Fix You - Chapter 14: Enjoy The Silence

Fix You - Chapter 14: Enjoy the Silence

Gif by @hunterschafer

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

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Read on A03

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Chapter Summary: The final heat...

Word Count: 7k

Rating: R

Chapter Warnings: Cussing, violence. I will not be warning anything else due to spoiling the story. We are all grown. You can stop reading when you want to.

A/N: Has it really been a year? I wish I had a better excuse than "I haven't been doing great." But that's what it is. I've had huge changes in my life. New job, new career, new goals, and a greater sense of self-worth. I'm feeling a lot better. But my new schedule is busy! Hopefully you can forgive me for such a long cliffhanger.

Finally, a heads up. This has been the arc I have been working towards for almost two years, and I'm not going to waver. Just stick with me like you have been. It’ll be worth it.

I also did the absolute most and made a specific playlist just for this chapter here.

Forever thank you to everyone who commented, reblogged, shared, boosted, made content for, and supported me. It meant a lot and definitely kept this fic in the back of my mind. As always, most love to my girl @musings-of-a-rose who has tolerated me being a shitty friend for a whole ass year, and always talking things through with me in life and in this fic. Cheers.

Suggested Songs: Depeche Mode "Enjoy the Silence", Fitz and the Tantrums: "Out of My League", Lizzo "Truth Hurts", Michael Kiwanuka "Cold Little Heart", Cigarettes After Sex "Cry", Guster "Demons"

Frankie and you decided to break your apartment lease starting October 1st. Fall term started on the 30th of August, and you wanted time to settle into your schedule before planning a move. You spent almost all your time at his house anyway, only stopping back at your apartment for more clothes. Frankie had already given you a row of drawers to keep your things in.

You’d honestly never been happier, both on cloud 9 and it never faded, you were incredibly excited to begin this new start with Frankie and Gabi. It all seemed to have happened so fast. It had only been five months, you hadn’t even told your family about him yet, mostly to avoid comments on the age gap. 

You were relieved the hiccup in your relationship settled, you didn’t like feeling unsure or that someone resented you. When you started feeling secure again, you clung to it. That sparkle of joy was hard to keep in check.

You picked your Fall schedule out together and spent the remaining weeks of summer basking in your relationship, playing with Gabi, going out with the guys, and constant fucking. But your most favorite thing was still lying on the couch with Frankie, teasing each other and watching bad TV.

“This is simultaneously the best and worst movie I have ever seen in my life. I don’t understand how they achieved this.”

Frankie shrugs, reaching to your lap for the giant bowl of popcorn, his eyes still glazed to the TV where Mad Max: Fury Road is playing. “I dunno. Who cares? It’s cars and chaos!”

“And Tom Hardy. And Charlize Theron.”

He pinches you on the waist, acting threatened by your thirst just to tease you. “You ever been to a demo derby? This kind of reminds me of it.”

You sit up from where your back is resting against his chest. “Um, no? Isn’t that kind of…for rednecks?”

He laughs, his eyes crinkling. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but Benny and Will are rednecks. But no, it’s for anyone who likes cars crashing into each other. There’s actually one at the fair every year. We always go to it. You should come.”

“I’m not going to a demo derby.”

“Aw come on! It’ll be fun! First time for Gabi too, and there’s rides and games and funnel cake and fried oreos—” He pauses as you hold your hand up to silence him.

“I’ll go. You had me at ‘funnel cake.’”

The fair is packed. The final hurrah of the summer before kids return to school and university students dive back into their studies. The derby started at 8 PM sharp, you, Dali, and the boys got there plenty early to look around a bit, get some food, and find seats.

You forgo any typical entree and go right for the funnel cake, heaping fruit and extra powdered sugar on it until the plate is a big mound of sweet. The guys had talked you up on this for days, Benny wouldn’t shut up about it, and you found yourself excited to watch. Your legs bounce impatiently as you scarf down your cake, breaking off pieces here and there to feed to Gabi and your boys.

The seats were bleachers, hard metal planks that hurt your butt and back and caught vibration from every footfall, but Pope sat behind you so you could lean back against his legs to be more comfortable. 

It’s a long wait. The bleachers eventually fill up, you certainly had the best seat in the house (thank you Will), and you could see the hoods up of participating cars behind the commentator podium. The air is musty, the odor of wet dirt from a quick August shower earlier that day.

When the first round of vehicles start revving their engines, Frankie pulls some earphones for Gabi and secures it to her head. Once he’s sure she’s comfortable, he quickly runs you through the basic rules. “So there’s several ‘heats’, and which heat you’re in is based on how many cylinders the car has. Last car moving is the winner, but you can’t just avoid the other cars the whole time. No continuing if your car starts sparking from the engine, no hitting the driver side door, and no hitting anyone who’s already out.” 

“Wait, cars catch on fire in this?”

Before Frankie can answer, the announcer calls out the first heat and you almost choke at the state of the cars coming out. They were completely dilapidated, windows punched out and hood frames reinforced with extra steel. It looked like each entry had about 5 different parts all from different cars, horrendous paint jobs, and one of them even had a stuffed dinosaur duct taped to the hood. Some of them looked like they had already been hit by cars, parts hanging off and bumpers pressing in on itself. None of these cars would last at all. There’s no way...

The rink was surrounded by giant cement cinder blocks creating a large “rink” type area. The contestants lined the front bumpers of their vehicles up parallel to each other at the barricades separating the cars from the bleachers, alternately revving their engines during the countdown.

“Okay, so, usually we all pick the car we think is going to win.” Benny says. You lean forward to look over the assortment of jacked up cars for this heat, eventually settling on an old Toyota Corolla painted a matte black. Benny chooses the dino car, Will chooses a Dodge Stealth with it’s headlights hanging outside the socket, Dali and Pope argue over a Ford Taurus whose back end was already smashed into the back seats, and Frankie chooses a Chevy Impala, which you immediately regret not taking because it has such a long front and back end. Lots of room for smashing and being able to keep going.

Gabi jumps up and down on Frankie’s lap as he points out things to her over the sounds of engines and a countdown, and then the cars are off off, engines roaring and dirt kicking up as they all reverse at full speed, several of them crunching up in the middle while others circle around the perimeters.

It soon becomes clear to you that there is no rhyme or reason to which car makes it and which doesn’t. Pope’s Taurus didn’t even start and is eliminated after 2 minutes of no movement, and whoever is driving the boxy piece of shit Honda Accord that Dali had to select is a fucking maniac, winding and weaving at full speed backwards, hitting whoever gets in their way. Her choice is the winner of that heat. 

Most of them are driving backwards, and Will tells you it’s because they are trying to protect the engine. You deflate in your seat a little in disappointment, but he assures you that as the heat winds down and there's fewer cars taking up the space, the drivers and announcer will get impatient and they will hit each other head to head.

You’re shocked at how much you enjoy it. At one point a car hits the passenger side door of another so hard that it is pushed up and onto the barricade wall from the inertia, hanging from an angle as the crowd jeers and shrieks in excitement. One car flips over completely, another’s engine bursts into flames and the crowd all starts crying out caution because the announcer can’t see it. You’ve never seen anything like it before and there was so much fire you were sure the whole thing would blow up, but the driver slid out the glassless driver’s side window like it was no big deal and walked it off.

There is something satisfying about two cars hitting each other at full speed, the bodies of them crunching, wheels hanging off axles, bumpers being dragged behind and run over by other drivers, cars with mangled pieces becoming stuck to each other so they can’t separate until another car hits them, tires completely gone and cars only moving on its hubs. It’s chaos in a safe format, a way to experience destruction and violence in a way that feels good and unharmful. 

Gabi has never been so amazed in her entire life, her mouth hangs open and she wriggles against her dad to see everything, laughing every time a collision happens. The audience oohs and ahhs and boos and screams and cheers and teases, you and your friends join the clamor as you have your own mini competition with yourselves.  

Giant fork tractors come into the arena area to lift the cars that can’t move anymore, some guys are able to get theirs back up and running, driving them to the sides to shape up for the final Battle Royale.

The final heat is fucking wild. All the cars that were already battered enough before they even began to come back out, returned to do another round for the final winner. With all the action you’d barely even noticed that contestants whose cars were still driveable had spent the remaining heats beyond the barricades hammering and reforming their vehicles enough to compete again. 

And at the end, the winner of all faces the crowd, pulls off their helmet to reveal a thick curly mass of long hair.  The winner is a woman. You and Dali cheer until your throats hurt.

It’s over too soon. There’s a mass exodus the instant the derby is over, the packed stadium standing and pouring down the stairs pressing so tight that you and your boys decide to hang back until it thins out. You lead the way, Frankie’s large and warm hand grazing your waist as you slowly move down the stairs and back out into the fair, turning to wait for the rest of your friends to make it out.

“What next?” Benny says when you are all reunited. “More food? Games? Rides?”

“I’m not eating more before getting on rides, let's do those now.” Says Frankie, grumbling as he hears you tease him with Benny. He whips his head around to glare at you. “Just you wait until you get older and start getting sick on rides, I cannot wait to make fun of you back.”

The wait for the ride tickets is long, but it leaves plenty of time for the group to decide how many are needed. Who is riding what, who isn’t, what pairings and who will watch Gabi on the rides she can’t do. You’re surprised when Will and Pope back out of the Zipper, leaving you and Benny as a pairing for that.

Riding it was a mistake. The ride is basically a giant airborne conveyer belt with completely enclosed containers for people hanging off it that were 360 degree capable. And it lasted FOREVER. You lose some of your funnel cake behind the ride out of sight, threatening violence on Benny if he outs you to the others. 

But it didn’t stop you from riding The Freak Out immediately afterwards, a rotating pendulum swing that made you feel like you were going to be catapulted out of your seat. The ride seated 4 groups of 4 so that in between squeezing your eyes shut, you could catch watery glimpses of Benny red-faced and cackling hysterically, Will’s chants of “ohfuckohfuckohfuckOHfuckOHFUCKOHSHIT FUCCCCCCK!”, and Frankie looking…absolutely fine. It was almost disturbing really, he was calm and collected, the only hint that this might have been something other than a nice drive in his truck was his giant smile, the tears leaking from his squinted eyes, his chocolate curls whipping around in the breeze as his hands clutch his hat in his lap with a steel grip.

“How the fuck were you so calm?!” You gasp as you stumble off the rickety landing platform. You hadn’t moved yet you felt like you had run a mile, your heart was beating so fast from the adrenaline it almost felt like you might have a heart attack. 

Frankie shrugs. “Feels like a copter in a bad air current.” 

You simply stare blinking. 

“No, he’s always like this. Like this one time, we were flying in a helo over the Andes mountains, and—”

A sharp stare from Frankie that he tries to hide from you makes Benny backpedal. 

“Uhhh yea we were flying over some mountains and the air current was wild but we got over the mountains just fine and everything was fine and we were fine.”

Your heart seizes in your chest, that same feeling of not being told something creeping up. You hate it. You push it back down, swallowing heavily to center yourself. “So I assume you were fine.”

“Yea. Yea. Cat is a good pilot.” 

You hum, the panic still not leaving your chest.

Frankie grabs your hand as you walk. “It happened a lot, I just got used to it.”

“It happened a lot?”

“Yea. I mean, sometimes we were flying through shit climates, sometimes even pursued. Doesn’t make for a smooth ride. I’m just used to it. They always scream bloody murder though.” Frankie smiles softly.

“Oh.”

You go silent, continuing to walk to the next destination: the scrambler. You had already established you would not ride and Dali wanted some funnel cake herself, so she heads off while you stay off to the side with Gabi to watch, lost in your own thoughts.

“Just don’t fucking talk about that, none of that. That never happened.” Frankie seethes to Benny as they are strapped into the ride. 

“Sorry dude, I can’t read your thoughts. I figured she knew.”

“No. I don’t want her to know. No one else needs to know about it.”

Benny falls silent, looking to Will beside him. Pope lowers his head, choosing to say nothing.

“Catfish…you have to.” Says Will.

“No the fuck I don’t. I never want her to know. If she knows…she’ll actually see ‘real me’. ‘Fuck-up me.” And I don't want her to yet. I don’t want to lose her yet. I don’t want her to be afraid. Stop fucking looking at me like that.”

They stop. But only because the ride starts, and they can’t see anything other than blurs.

You hate this feeling, this fluttering in your stomach like something is wrong but your heart knows, it knows it’s fine. It has to be. Your mind is spinning, trying to combat the rising anxiety clenching in your chest, doing gymnastics to find reasons to not be alarmed.

He’s not lying about something. He’s not. …He promised….I’m just overthinking this…

You can’t. You refuse to even think about it. Confronting the terrible possibility that you might’ve done it again, you might have thrown yourself all in to someone only to—-no. 

He’s not lying. He’s not. …He promised….he’s different. I’m just overthinking this…

You can feel butterflies bubbling in your stomach and you feel like you might throw up. Fucking men. You huff in frustration and try to distract yourself with your surroundings, watching people on rides, sharing funnel cake. Your eyes scan over two men staring at you silently by a skewered chicken cart and in your current mood it makes you furious. “What the fuck are you staring at?!” You growl at them. They say nothing and slowly walk away, disappearing into the crowd. Fucking. Men.

You try not to let your emotions show. You sit back while Gabi goes on some rides for her age, using the time to rehydrate and calm yourself down. Living through Gabi’s joy helps.. She’s having a blast, choosing a different person to pair with for each time ride. Pope in the Wacky House, the Helicopters with her dad, Benny on the mini Viking ship. Once you feel better you join in to play bumper cars (Will and Gabi win) and ride the high-rise swings with her seated in the cool metal chair next to you, Benny singing along to the ambient speakers playing “Out of My League” so loud eventually all the other teens on the ride join in.You enjoy the mini coaster more than you thought you would considering it’s for kids Gabi’s age, you and Dali are the only others who can fit in the seats, no matter how hard Benny tried. It was easy to quickly forget.

After the coaster, Gabi begins to slow down, so you hit the fried oreo stand, paying for several batches despite protestation and alternately feeding everyone as the group slowly walks through the agricultural parts of the fair. It’s calmer here, the air warm and quiet. The pathway is less crowded so Gabi is able to frolic around on the walkway in front of you safely. 

You walk through every barn, stopping to pet every animal. She’s a natural with them. Completely fearless, not one flicker of apprehension as she approaches cows and horses that are easily 6 times her height, paying close attention to her dad in how to not spook them. Everyone finds the goats to be the favorite because of the sounds they make. Even more so when Frankie engages in a screaming contest back and forth with a bunch of them until someone shoos them out of the pavilion.

Soon, all the sugar Gabi consumed rears its ugly head in the rabbit barn, she throws a fit when Frankie won’t let her get a pet rabbit and you only just catch her upper arm in time to keep her from collapsing on the filthy barn floor. You’re surprised she held out so long. Even you were crashing and getting tired. Also, the rabbits were ridiculously cute.

“Listen Gabi, how about we ride the ferris wheel? Would you like that?” You kneel before her, swiping the tears off her cheeks as she catches her breath. “It goes really high! Higher than the swings!” She nods, sniffing in a snot bubble as she takes your hand. The two of you lead the way, and as you get closer and closer, you start to regret your decision. 

It’s much taller than the Freak Out. By more than 100 feet. It doesn’t look very stable either.

“Wait...this…this looks kind of high, don’t you think?” You turn to the guys, trying to conceal the wavering in your voice. You were scared enough at 70 feet. This was more like 200.

“Height requirement says she’s fine. And it’s enclosed, goes really slow. Come on.” Frankie takes you by the hand and your heart leaps into your throat, your feet skidding across the lawn as you try to pull back. 

A light shove pushes you forward and you turn to glare at Will as he smirks down at you. “If you don’t go I’m never going to let you hear the end of it. Not after you called us “old and broken down.”

Well shit.

“Fine.”

You’re shaking when it’s your turn, the group mad dashing to three cars next to each other so you could talk throughout. Benny pairs with Pope, Gabi is vibrating with excitement as she’s put into a carriage by Will and Dali, and Frankie is beaming as he motions you towards the left car. He pats your butt as you gingerly step in, waiting until you’re seated before joining you and taking your hand. 

“Babe…are you okay?”

You swallow, grateful it’s dark enough he can’t see you trembling. “Yep. I’m good.” 

He leans forward in his seat, the glowing phosphorescence of the lights of the ride and around the fair bathing him halfway in a multicolored glow. tThe colors and shadows fold into the angles of his face like rainbow chiaroscuro, an angular stained glass window. He takes your hand again, yours is swallowed in his palm and you close your eyes as he rubs his thumb across the top. The dark beat of Depeche Mode pounds against your chest and echoes in your ears and you briefly imagine this is what it must feel like to drop acid.

“Your hands are really sweaty…and you’re breathing really fast. Are you sure you’re okay? Hey…” He squeezes your palm and you open your eyes to meet his. “It’s okay if you’re scared. I won’t joke anymore about it, I’m sorry.”

You swallow. “It’s just really really high.”

Frankie watches the ride operator out of the corner of his eye passing their car as he makes sure everyone is safely locked in before tugging on your arm slightly. You slide forward minutely, he meets you more than halfway with his large limbs and rests his hands on your hips. You gasp as the ride jolts and begins rolling, lifting the cabs up in the air. His calloused fingertip pushes your head back up.

“How about I distract you.” He murmurs, shifting forward one inch more, tilting his neck as his soft pouty lips meet yours. 

You close your eyes, trying to lose your self awareness into him and his mouth and the soft skin of his nose that bumps your cheek and tickles your nose with its little breaths. 

The lift mechanism suddenly shudders, clunking over something and it feels like when you run over a squirrel in your car. You inhale sharply against Frankie’s lips as your cab jostles back and forth. Not much, but enough for you to slam yourself back against your seat and clutch the seat bottom as hard as you can. Your heart beats wildly and you imagine the ride breaking and dropping you on the ground to be crushed to death by this stupid fucking metal cab.

You feel pressure on your knees and look down, focusing hard to not see double from fear. Frankie cups both in his hands, thumbs lightly stroking the inside of your thighs. “It’s okay.” He reassures, squeezing your knees once more. “Probably an under-greased cog, it’s nothing. They test these things like 50 times a day.”

You simply stare, forcing yourself to nod. 

“Close your eyes.”

You open your mouth to argue then close it and obey. You trust Frankie, and it can’t be any worse. 

“Just focus on me. And…you hear the music? It’s called “Enjoy the Silence.” I was obsessed with this song when it came out. And can you hear Benny below us? I can hear Gabi laughing too. We’re all okay, you’re okay too.”

You bite your lips into your mouth, focusing on the song and Frankie’s husky voice. The meditative synth pop calms you, and the carefree voices of your friends below does help calm you, but you can’t slow down your heartbeat. 

“I’m okay. Just too much adrenaline.”

The hands on your knees slide up your bare thighs and wrap around the bottoms of them. Frankie pulls you forward in your seat with a smirk. “I’m feeling a little amped up too.”

“Frankie.”

He doesn’t respond, his sole focus on your thighs as his hands slide up and up and up until he is just able to slip the tip of one of his fingers under one leg of your shorts. For some reason, it pisses you off.

“Frankie!” You hiss. “People could see us.”

“Nah…” He shushes you, his finger sliding lower. 

You clamp your legs shut and push his hand back in his direction. “Frankie, I don’t want to right here.” 

He sits up. “Oh.”

Suddenly you hear Benny’s voice from below. “Hello we are underneath you guys! I don’t want to hear any hooking up sounds!” He trolls, and you fully push Frankie back to his side, your cheeks burning in embarrassment.

It’s the first time you can remember that it’s ever been uncomfortably awkward between the two of you, and you’re not sure why. The silence seems so much more noticeable and weird against the clanking of the Ferris wheel gears and the chattering of random other people.

You’re not even looking at each other, you realize. When did that happen? Your neck cranes to the left as you gaze at the stars, and when you turn back towards Frankie, he is looking to the right and down at the fair. 

“…Is everything okay?”

His eyes snap back to yours. “Yea? Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Cause I pushed you away, and…I dunno, you’re being weird..”

“Oh, I’m sorry, that’s not intentional. I’m not upset, c’mere.” He opens his arms wide to you, scooting on his bench so there’s enough room for you.

You hesitate. “Won’t it…won’t it throw off the balance?”

You feel ridiculous asking but he doesn’t laugh at you, just shakes his head slightly. “Nah, they wouldn’t be able to run this ride if people couldn’t sit on the same side.”

You balance awkwardly on the edge of your bench overanalyzing what exact moment during the track of the ride to launch onto his, but you overthink it and end up jostling the cab more than necessary. Frankie’s arms pull you into his side and you burrow your face in his neck as the cab continues to rock. The music fades from Depeche Mode to Lizzo to Lil’ Nas X (Will clearly enjoys that one) and then back to Lizzo, and you forget all about your uneasiness.

He was right. It did feel better being with him. 

The ride does one more pass then rolls to a halt, letting off you with Frankie and Benny with Santiago. You hover at the exit for Will and Gabi, who have to wait for their cab to reach the platform before dismounting. Frankie takes your hand as you wait.

Gabby’s adrenaline rush runs out fast, and you spend the remainder of the fair eating more fried Oreos and playing games. Somehow you manage to beat them all at the water shooting game, which amps up the competitiveness to the point you’d rather just watch.

Which is how you end up at the “star” game. 

“We’re so fucking good at this game, it pisses them off every time.” Laughs Benny, as he shoots the entire Star out perfectly with the gun that is specifically not given enough ammo to achieve this. You hop up on the far side of the counter to watch, noting the way each of you boys handles their weapon and the differences in each. Benny held his gun loosely, like he was relaxed and self assured. It almost seemed like you would be able to slap it out of his hands but you knew he still had an iron grip. Will was precise and, as you expected, “perfect form”. You could tell just from Pope’s posture change that he was the best shot on the team, you’d never seen him look so focused. Frankie held his with a tense white knuckle grip, the folding stock tucked against his shoulder joint. The tension carrying up his arms as his veins popped out in his forearms and biceps. He looked fucking good. And you wouldn’t consider yourself a “gun person.” In fact, you kind of hated them. But there just was something about a strong non-douchey man holding a rifle like that that activated you. Damn the patriarchy. Even Dali is a great shot, though not as good as the guys.

After a few rounds, the carnie finally stopped allowing your posse to keep playing, frustrated that somehow the rigging system didn’t work on your group. You lean back on your hands, your legs swinging against the wood counter, observing Benny arguing with the carnie with a smirk. Gabi is passed out in her stroller next to you as Frankie sidles up to you, feeding you a piece of Fried Reeses, then promptly kissing you so the taste floats between you. 

He hums deeply, stepping closer to you til he’s between your legs. His hands rest low on the top of your thighs. “This ok?”

You smile. “Yes. More than okay. And I want more.” 

Frankie beams and cups your face, his lips crashing into yours as he all but breathes you in. You tilt your head and poke his mouth with your tongue. He responds immediately and opens for you, meeting you halfway. You whine softly as his hands leave your cheeks and trail down your back, one hand sneaking a bit lower to discreetly cup your ass. You’ve just wound your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck when you hear a shrill voice cut through the din of the dwindling crowd.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Your heart slams to a halt so fast it hurts. You recognize that voice. And so does Frankie. Your heads both snap to the left as a disheveled looking Lex stands there with a bunch of her friends.

Frankie simply stares. She repeats herself. “Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me. The BABYSITTER? Are you fucking your BABYSITTER??? Oh Frankie…come on…how pathetic can you be? She’s like a child!”

You look at Frankie, receding into himself like a silent, terrified puppy. You’ve never seen him like this before, it unnerves you.

“Excuse me.” You snap back. “I am 28.”

She scoffs. I fucking knew something was going on with you two. And you’re doing this in front of my child?”

“Well, actually, Gabi is sleeping. At least she was, until you came ranting and raving.” You make eye contact with Pope, who reads your perfectly and starts steering Gabi’s stroller away so she can’t hear. “We made sure to be careful for her but why do you even care if we are fucking? You left him! You didn’t want him anymore, so it shouldn’t fucking matter who he dates.” 

“He’s a drug addict and a pathological liar. He will NEVER change.”

“Yea? And you are a drunk, controlling, OCD bitch who can’t mind her own fucking business. He’s happy with me. I trust him. Unlike you. Bye.” You couldn’t help yourself, you just fucking hated her.

But that set her off. “Did he tell you why he was suspended?”

“Yes, he—“

“Did he tell you he was high, flying a family and he almost injured everyone from a sloppy landing? Did he tell you how he would take Gabi to his drug dealers house with him? How he went on a STUPID fucking mission with these idiots to burglarize a fucking drug lord completely off paper? That I deliberately asked him not to because we had a new baby? That he crashed their helicopter, dropped all their money and shot innocent villagers to keep them from getting it? At children and old men adn women? That because of that, Molly’s husband was shot in the fucking head by one of those people? And then they couldn’t even bring the money back so it was all for no reason?”

She’s shouting now, spittle flying from her inebriated lips. One of her friends tries to grab her arm but she shakes them off. People in the crowd are starting to stop and watch. “Then, THEN, he treated me like shit, saying horrible things to me just when he was mad, throwing things, scaring me!”

You feel like you can’t breathe, it’s too much information all at once. “...What? I don’t…No. no, he said he was on a delta mission–”

“Oh sweetheart,” She sneers condescendingly. “He was on a greed mission. He was retired from delta. This was like a year ago. They all wanted to get rich and robbed a fucking drug kingpin and Frankie shot innocent people to make sure he got alllllll that money. And because of that, his friend was shot and killed and his family has NO idea why. He lied to you.”

You turn to look at him, and all his friends. Everyone is silent, trying not to look up from the ground. Dali looks as bewildered as you. “Frankie…?” Tears water in your eyes and you feel like your heart is going to burst. You thought he told you it was an enlisted mission, but on top of everything else you just learned your thoughts are rushing so fast you can’t seem to remember specifics. 

Frankie can’t even look at you. And that’s how you know. 

It’s true…

“Lex. Stop.” Will’s Southern drawl cuts through the silence, the commanding officer in him coming out. “It’s over. This shit between you two has to stop. Enough.” His eyes shift to Lex’s friends, who are nodding and repeating the same thing. Lex finally allows them to pull her away muttering under her breath, sending one last glare in your direction.

The walk to the truck is silent. The ride home is a foggy blur. But the minute you step into the house, you crack. 

“Frankie please tell me all this is not true.” You can’t read him at all, his face is completely blank as he moves around you towards Gabi’s bedroom to tuck her in.

So you wait.

His hackles are already up when he comes back out.

“Frankie–”

“Yea.”

“Well?”

“Yea. It’s true. We tried to steal money from one of Pope’s cases and it backfired and Tom got shot.”

“Because of you.”

His expression changes then, from blank nothing to vicious defensive anger. “Yea. Because of me. I fucked up the flight back and we crash landed and these fuckin’ villagers were gonna take the money! And it was an accident!”

“You ‘accidentally’ shot innocent people?”

He swallows, his jaw clenching and unclenching. You can see he’s doing mental gymnastics in order to avoid accountability. 

“Did your finger slip?”

No answer. 

“Frankie. Did your finger slip on the trigger?”

You already know the answer before he says it. And somehow it’s like he morphs into a Disney villain as he says it. “No. My finger didn’t slip.”

It burns, the sharp pain in your heart that makes you feel like it’s having a seizure or forgot how to pump blood or is pumping too much blood. “How many people did you kill.”

He shrugs. “I dunno.”

“You don’t know? How can you not know?! Frankie, you told me this was your job! You- you fucking lied to me! I-I I asked you if you were hiding anything else from me and you fucking lied to me!” You can’t help your voice raising, the tears spilling out of your eyes as you realize how fucking stupid you had been. Somewhere in the background you can hear Gabi has woken and is hysterically crying. Frankie, clearly having enough, turns back towards her room. But you continue, screaming at his back. “And that’s why Tom is dead? And his family doesn’t know why?!”

Frankie doesn’t answer and suddenly you are enraged. You run behind him and shove him forward. “I’m fucking talking to you! How can you just be so fucking blase about this??? And…all that other shit???—I feel like I don’t know you at all!”

He whirls around, that furious murderous face you ‘ve seen him give others is finally directed at you. “Because you don’t!” He screams back, his teeth nash and he shoves a finger one inch from  your face. You flinch.

“Frankie, you’re scaring me.”

“I’m scaring you? Really? I thought this was your thing?” 

You blink, confused, tears stalling on your face. “Don’t–”  You plead softly.

“No, Lex is right. You’re a naive little girl who thinks she can save worthless idiots like me and live some fucking fantasy happily ever after. You won’t. You can’t. I’m unfixable.”

“How can you say that!! Frankie, I love you!

He scoffs. “I know you think you do. And I know you aren’t stupid, you told me you’ve done this before. But guess what sweetie, you aren’t better, you’re still doing it because you’re so fucking desperate for someone to love you. You don’t love me. You just want to feel like some fucking savior.”

“No! No… I didn’t, I don’t…you told me you loved me!”

“I wanted to fuck you.” His eyes are black as far, it’s like you don’t even recognize his face anymore. Lex was right. Lex was right. How…did you make all of it up in your head?

“You…You’re a fucking psycho…I feel like you emotionally manipulated me into caring for you only for you to play games with me! I specifically told you I couldn’t go through this again and you fucking did it anyway!”

“Hey, you kissed me. And you were fun to fuck, I will admit that. Let me do fucking anything. But we both knew this would happen. You set yourself up. I did shoot those villagers. I caused Tom’s death. I just wanted the fucking money. And I wanted to kill a bunch of kids too, when they got in my way. Fuckin’ teenagers and I told Pope to fucking shoot them all.  And you know what else? We went back and got all that fucking money we hid, and we are fucking swimming in it. And I didn’t share a goddamn dime with my ex. You’re right. I am a psycho, so it’s a good thing this is over. Pack your shit and leave me alone.”

“Fuck you Frankie.”

You don’t wait another moment. You don’t need to be asked twice this time. You shove him aside on your way down the hallway, doing everything you can not to let the second round of tears fall. He’d seen enough.

You slam the door of the master bedroom behind you, frantically bouncing around different points in the room to grab all your shit. When did all of this stuff even get here? Anxiety bubbles up your chest until you can’t take it anymore and say fuck it, he can just throw anything else out. I have to get out of here.

You rush back down the hallway like a speed demon, praying to whatever that he won’t be standing in the hallway still. He isn’t. He’s sitting on his couch facing away from you, his head in his hands. You hate yourself for wanting to go comfort him. He’s right…I’m

not better…

You pause on the front doorway, struggling to say what needs to be said. Don’t be weak. Don’t keep letting people do this to you over and over. “Don’t contact me.I never want to see you again.” You say to his back.

He doesn’t move a muscle, or even look at you. “You won’t.”

You were able to make it halfway across the lawn before the grief fully hit. By the time you got to your car you were gasping like you were no longer able to breathe. And the minute your car door shut you broke, a wailing sob bursting from your lips as you bury your face in your palms. 

Again. It happened again. And it’s just as crushing as every other time, except now it feels like you never healed from the others and now they are all piling on top of the other with this one as the final blow.

Why. WHY? Was there something wrong with you? Why were you never enough? Why couldn’t you make them stay? What did you do to keep having to go through this? It almost killed you last time, your eyes squeeze shut as you remember the look on your parents face as they watched you writhe on your bed screaming and crying hysterically from your latest breakup.

And why did you let yourself fall into it again, like you had never learned a goddamn thing. It was like you were masochistic, you told yourself you would never need someone again so badly, you wouldn’t enmesh yourself so fully that when it fell apart you could barely function. Your heart was once again ripped out of your chest and thrown to the floor, the cracks from before making this shattering into pieces so small you know it can’t get repaired again.

With a trembling whimper, you pull your face out of your hands and wipe your eyes, your nose. You realize you’re still sitting in Frankie’s driveway and you immediately look to see if he's at the window, concerned for you. He isn’t. You hate yourself for it but it breaks you even more. 

It’s over.

You drive home mindlessly, your Spotify on shuffle and you aren’t aware of anything else. Just get home. Just get home and then you can cry, try to move on. But you already know you won’t. 

You finally tire yourself out of tears, and you try to talk yourself up, turning up the music and chanting “it’s okay” to yourself. 

It’s Coldplay. You always liked Coldplay. 

When you're too in love to let it go

But if you never try, you'll never know

Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you…

Tears stream down your face

When you lose something you cannot replace

Tears stream down your face, and I–

You slam the on/off button so hard you actually cause the auxiliary cord to malfunction, so you rip it out of your phone and throw the damn thing on the passenger seat. You drive home in silence.

It’s dark in the lot when you arrive. You park in a spot along the side and towards the back because the lot is mostly full. The only light shining is the pole yards away, the bulb switches off and on opposite of the dark one right above you. 

You feel numb. You can still feel sticky dried tears on your face, but your ability to utter a sound is gone. You close your eyes and try to compose yourself, simply sitting in your car in the dark. You’re avoiding going upstairs, you know. You’ve pretty much been living at Frankie’s. Walking through that door would make it feel too ‘official’. You cover your face with your hands and rub the tears tracks off your raw face, and are about to take a breath and gather your shit when a THWACKING sound bursts right in your left ear.

You startle with a yelp and look out your window, prepared to tell off whoever is messing with you, but freeze when you find yourself face to face with the barrel of a gun, the only thing separating you from it is the shitty window glass on your cheap car.

»»———————►

Post A/N: Don't yell at me lol

Tranquility.

You're not good at keeping secrets from the boys. Turns out, Will isn't either.

Pairing - Will Miller x female reader. Benny Miller, Santiago Garcia, Frankie Morales x female reader.

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - Brief allusion to sexual content. No cursing in this one!!

Word Count - 4.3k

Author's Note - hi lovelies. here's another triple frontier fic for you all!! i love writing these boys so much. we all know by now that i am a total will girly, so it's no surprise he takes the lead in this one. but all the boys are included - i can't leave them out <3. as always, if you have any specific requests or thoughts, send them over!! lots of love x

my other triple frontier fics - Tethered. and Time.

Masterlist. Requests.

“Baby, we gotta go!”

“Coming!” you yell, running down the stairs with a duffel bag in your hand. “Almost forgot my toothbrush.”

“You’d forget your head if it wasn’t on your neck,” Will winks, nudging you with his shoulder.

“Shut up, Miller,” you tease, no real malice in your voice. You lean up to peck his lips gently, before he takes a step back.

“We can’t be late again. I can’t make up another excuse – last time was bad enough.”

“That was literally your fault! You were the one that couldn’t keep your hands off me, like some sort of teenage boy,” you laugh.

“It was the green dress’ fault, not mine. I don’t regret it,” he chuckles.

Will winks at you again before picking up your bags and walking outside to pack up the car.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Four days by the lake with your boys sounded like complete and utter bliss. When Frankie had suggested it, initially, everyone had laughed it off. Realistically, it wouldn’t work. You all struggle to plan a day off at the same time, never mind multiple. It sounded like a sweet little idea. Nothing more.

Then, life got stressful. Work was tough on everyone, families causing issues, deadlines looming – the mundane routine of every day wearing the five of you down. Eventually, it was Santiago that snapped.

“We’re going to that damn lake house,” he exclaimed one evening in Benny’s backyard. “I don’t care what we have to do. I don’t care if we all have to call in sick. We are going to the lake house.”

He looked around at his friends, expecting them to instantly shut him down. Instead, he was met with unanimous nods of agreement.

That was months ago. It was a logistical nightmare, working out your schedules to intertwine with each other, but you did it. You were ridiculously ready for four days of swimming, drinking, sunbathing and laughing with your favourite people in the entire world. It sounded like the well deserved break everyone needed.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Will’s warm palm meets the bare skin of your thigh as he drives. The roads are long and monotonous, but you don’t care. Everything is an adventure with him.

“You still sure about not telling ‘em?” he asks, blue eyes flitting over to you briefly. He’s got a gentle smile on his face. He always does when he’s with you. It’s like his default setting.

“Yeah, I think I am. Are you?”

“Yeah. Think we should live in paradise a little longer.”

“Paradise, huh?” you tease, squeezing his hand.

“You know it is. I’m on cloud nine every moment I’m with you, baby.”

His words make your head spin, and you’re glad you’re sitting down already. You wonder everyday how you got so lucky. It’s rare, to know with full certainty that you are someone’s favourite person in the world. The centre of their universe. Sometimes, it’s overwhelming. Mostly, it’s astounding. It warms up your bones, settles itself carefully into your ribcage, pumping your heart to the beat of Will’s love. What a gift.

Which is why you’ve decided to keep the two of you a secret from the boys. You know that it won’t change anything between the group, not really – but you’re a little worried nonetheless. It’s scary, altering a dynamic that works so well. The five of you, stuck like glue, know each other like the lyrics to your favourite songs. You know each others strengths, weaknesses, favourite ice cream flavours, middle names, star signs, families – everything. It’s the kind of friendship that binds you together for life. Changing that in any way would break your heart. Will’s too. You know, deep down, that they’ll be perfectly accepting. But the fear still lingers, ugly and unwavering.

Also - you and Will didn’t take the most conventional route into a relationship.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The two of you met in Delta Force. Co-workers, first. Comrades in arms. He had your back, you had his. You saved each other’s lives countless times. You’d stitch up each other’s wounds, carry each other back to base, share your water even though you only had a drop left. You were a team.

Then, you became friends. It’s hard not to, when you’re thrown into a life-or-death situation. You spent 24 hours a day together, wherever you were sent – sometimes Asia, sometimes South America, sometimes Africa. You got to know each other, learnt one another’s quirks and habits and likes and dislikes. The five of you bonded quickly and effortlessly. It made you a slick team, your missions running like clockwork. You could all predict each other’s movements, finish each other’s sentences. It’s what made you so successful, so revered.

After Delta Force, you became friends outside of work. Forced proximity friendship is one thing, but actually making the time to see each other back on home soil is another. You were worried that you were going to drift, and all of the trust built would perish. That wasn’t the case. The five of you quickly adjusted to being home together. You’d all spend Saturdays in Frankie’s backyard, Friday nights on Santiago’s porch, Sundays in Will’s kitchen. You’d pop by and see Benny on a Wednesday night after work, ready to watch another episode of that reality show you both couldn’t get enough of. You’d see Will any chance you got. Sunday morning farmers market trips and early swims and pancakes for breakfast and why don’t you just stay over? It’ll save you driving home.

You’d been best friends with Will for years before you realised how you felt about him.

It’d hit you, all of a sudden, one Sunday morning. You drove over to Will’s to pick him up, ready to go to the flea market downtown. You were going to grab lunch after, maybe cook some dinner together later. Just an average day.

You let yourself in to his house using the key he’d had made for you years ago. You had keys to all the boy’s places – just in case. You found Will at the stove, shirtless, golden skin on display. Whatever he was cooking smelled heavenly, and you wondered for a minute how it was fair that he was talented at everything.

“Morning, Miller,” you sing, throwing your bag down and striding over to him.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he replies, turning around to face you. He opens his arms and you step into his space, wrapping yourself around him and resting your head on his bare chest. You inhale, breathing in his scent deliberately. He smells like warmth and sleep and sunshine and promises.

You take a step back, craning your neck to look at him. The morning sunlight is gleaming through the windows, casting a gold hue across the room. Will’s hair is glowing, illuminating him like some sort of halo. Angelic boy.

Those ocean blue eyes survey you carefully. He rests his hands on your hips, pulling you in closer.

“What’s on your mind? I can see it runnin’ a mile a minute,” he murmurs. You try to look down, but he catches your chin with his thumb and forefinger, gently guiding you back up.

How do you explain that you’ve just realised that you’re completely, utterly, irreversibly in love with Will Miller? That it’s just dawned on you like a sunrise, warm and promising? How do you tell someone that you’re quite convinced you’ll drop dead if you don’t kiss them immediately? Is it even possible to explain these feelings? Is it possible to put all of these emotions into words? Are there enough words in any language to explain the enormity of what you’re experiencing?

Instead, you simply say,

“I’m in love with you.”

Will’s pupils blow wide, and he sways slightly, as if the weight of your confession has knocked him off balance. You steady him by cradling his face, forcing him to look at you.

“You don’t have to say it back,” you continue. “But I’ve kind of just put the pieces together, and it seems stupid not to tell you. You of all people know that life is short and fragile and can change in the blink of an eye, so I just thought –”

Will cuts you off by smashing his lips against yours. The kiss is passionate and tender and so full of love you’re convinced you could get drunk off it. He pulls back for air and looks at you earnestly.

“Don’t have to say it back? Sweetheart, do you know how often I’ve dreamt of you saying those words to me?”

You can’t help but break out into a grin. You feel like you’re floating, levitating above ground, held up purely by the love William Miller has for you.

“You have?” you ask, disbelief written on your features. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was waiting for you,” he beams. “I knew you’d figure it out eventually.”

You smile at him ear to ear before jumping into his arms. You kiss him again, legs wrapping around his waist to anchor yourself, closing the distance. He spins around the kitchen with you in his arms, the joy of being in love filling the room.

Suddenly, Will puts you down.

“Stay here,” he tells you, before sprinting upstairs.

Usually, you can predict Will’s every move. But not now. Now, you’re more confused than you’ve ever been.

He returns, placing a kiss to your forehead, before getting down on one knee in front of you.

“Marry me,” he says, complete certainty in his voice. You’ve never heard him this assured.

“Will… what?” you ask incredulously. You confessed your love for each other ten minutes ago, and you’ve skipped straight to marriage, apparently.

“Listen. I know it’s crazy. I know it seems fast. But we’ve loved each other for years, sweetheart. I realised when I met you that I was never, ever going to love anyone else again.”

He pulls out a box from the pocket of his pyjama pants and opens it to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring. It’s understated and it’s elegant and it’s just so you.

“I bought this two years ago. Maybe you think I’m insane, and maybe you’re going to run out of that door the minute I stop talking. But I’ve never been surer of anything in my entire life.”

You’ve been trying to catch your breath unsuccessfully for the past few minutes. It feels like everything is moving in slow motion, and your brain is trying to keep up.

“Will, we aren’t even technically dating,” you tease playfully. You already know your answer. You just like hearing him bear his truth to you like this.

“We’ve been dating for years, technically,” he rallies. “Everyone always thinks we’re a couple. We’re together every weekend, we go on dates, you sleep over… we went grocery shopping last week!”

You grin, remembering how you’d jokingly argued over whether to get the red or the green grapes, and how you’d ended up getting both. It was all so domestic it made your heart ache.

The two of you sit in the silence for a minute, Will still on one knee. He’s looking up at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. There’s no doubt in your mind what you’ll say.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Will. God, yes. The easiest yes of my entire life.”

He jumps up to grab you, spinning you in circles. You kiss him with so much force he stumbles backwards. Will takes your left hand, and carefully slides the ring onto your finger. It looks like it’s always belonged there.

You always knew it’d be Will Miller. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

That was months ago. The other boys know that you and Will spend a lot of time together one on one, so no one has suspected anything out of the ordinary. You have no doubt they’ll be happy for you both, but you’re content to keep everything a secret a little while longer. It’s easier, that way. It means you and Will get to keep living in your bubble of bliss, unphased by the outside world. You’ll tell them soon enough. You’re just trying to savour every last second.

“We’ll tell them soon,” you reassure Will, interlocking your fingers with his where they rest on your leg. “We’ll make it a whole thing, if you like. It feels like something that warrants a celebration.”

“Oh, definitely,” he grins, turning his eyes back to the road. “We’re almost there. So, you’re gonna have to act like you’re not totally head over heels in love with me for four days. You think you can manage?”

You scoff playfully, and squeeze his hand.

“I’m sure I’ll be okay,” you tease. He chuckles, and the melody of it is music to your ears.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You arrive at the lake house only ten minutes late, which you and Will agree is not entirely unacceptable.

“Finally, they’re here!” Benny yells as he bounds over to the car. He envelopes you in a bear hug, picking you up off the ground accidentally.

“Frankie is inside,” Santiago reassures when he catches you looking over his shoulder. You turn to give him a hug, and he kisses you on the cheek. Old habit.

“Santi, did you pack bug spray? You know the mosquitoes love you,” you wink, running your hands through his hair affectionately. He has greys coming through, and they suit him beautifully.

“Yes, hermosa, I got your text reminding me,” he smiles. “Thank you.”

You and Will grab your bags and make your way inside, where Frankie is making margaritas.

“Hola, mi amor,” he greets, wrapping his arms around you. “How was the journey?”

“All good, Francisco,” you reply. “I have a very reliable chauffeur.”

Will laughs from behind you, and it makes your knees weak.

“Bad news, you guys!” Benny interrupts, jumping to sit on the counter. “You two have to share a room, since you were the last ones here. Finders, keepers, and all that.”

That really isn’t the inconvenience that the boys think it is, but you and Will play along nonetheless.

“Damn it. He snores, you know!” you laugh, looking over to where Will is pretending to be offended, hand over his heart.

“That’s what you get for being late, losers!” Benny retorts, throwing his head back in amusement. Everyone laughs along with him, and all the tension melts from your body.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s day one, and you’re already struggling. You’re all relaxing on the dock, soaking up the sun’s rays. Will is wearing his forest green swim trunks with a ridiculously small inseam, his strong thighs on display. You so badly want to kiss them, lick them, bite down on them in the way you know he likes. Instead, you sip your margarita and settle for ogling him over the rim of your sunglasses.

He dives into the lake elegantly, and a bead of sweat drips down your neck. He breaks the surface, coming up for air, and pushes his hair back, water cascading down his golden skin. He’s glowing, beaming, gleaming in the sunlight like an ancient marble statue. You’re practically panting. Santiago notices.

“You okay, hermosa?” he asks, giving you a once over.

“Yeah, Santi, I’m good. Just super warm,” you lie. He seems to buy it, because he moves to grab his book, fanning you with it. Admittedly, the light breeze does cool you off, and distracts you from Will. Double win.

“Thank you, kind sir,” you joke, as he pretends to tip his hat towards you.

“You should join us!” Benny shouts from the lake. When did he even jump in?

“Yeah, come on, darlin’” Will chimes in, watching you with a slight smirk on his face. He’s not going to pass up the chance to see you sun soaked and dripping wet.

“Fine!” you huff jokingly, pulling your oversized t shirt (which you’re realising belongs to Frankie – when did you steal that?) over your head. You’re left in a bikini that leaves little to the imagination, the bright colour accentuating your skin beautifully. You look good. You feel good.

Will looks you up and down and takes a deep breath. You’re just friends, remember? He’s trying to convince himself, attempting to make the act somewhat believable. You break him out of his thoughts by running along the dock as fast as you can, and diving into the lake with a surprising amount of grace.

The five of you spend all afternoon in the water. Benny thinks it’s hilarious to pick you up, placing you on his shoulders before jumping backwards, sending you both flying through the air. You all play catch, laughing when Frankie misses the ball and accidentally punches Santi right in the stomach. You and Will easily fall back into your old habits of being friends, but you can’t help but notice the way his eyes linger just a second too long every now and again. You’re sure nobody else clocks on, all of the boys too busy splashing each other like children.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

When the evening comes, you all shower and dry off while Will and Frankie make dinner. You, Benny and Santi curl up on the couch, trying to warm each other up after hours of being in the water. You eat, you laugh, and you all swap stories about the things that you’ve missed since you last saw each other properly. It’s bliss. Perfect tranquility.

The sun sets, and you all move outside to the deck. Santi starts a campfire, and the five of you grab beers, settling into the warmth of the crackling wood. Everyone is relaxed, not a care in the world. You wish, for a moment, that life could always be like this. As if reading your thoughts, Will reaches out and brushes your cheekbone with his thumb in a fleeting moment, before retracting his hand as if nothing happened.

“I’m gonna make us some warm ciders,” Frankie decides, rising from his chair.

“I’ll come and help you. You always put way too much alcohol in - these idiots can’t handle it,” you signal towards where Benny, Will and Santiago are sat. They all scoff at you, laughing because they know it’s true.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You sit atop the counter next to where Frankie begins gathering his ingredients. When a strand of hair falls into his eyes, you move it away gently.

“Will you let me cut your hair tomorrow? It’s getting in your way,” you ask him softly.

“Of course, mi amor. Wouldn’t trust anyone else.”

He smiles at you, and your heart swells. You love this man so much - some days you wonder how you got so lucky. All five of you are bonded for life, best friends until the end. But there’s no denying that you and Frankie have always understood each other on another level.

He stops making the drinks, moving to stand between your legs. He looks at you intently, as if he’s trying to solve something.

“I like seeing you happy like this,” he murmurs.

“How can I not be?” you whisper back. “I’m with my favourite people. I have everything I could ever want.”

“Yeah, but this is different.”

You scrunch your brows in confusion, and he chuckles. He begins to draw slow circles just above your bare knee. You can tell he’s thinking carefully.

“It’s Will, isn’t it?” he asks, gentle smile on his face.

In this moment, you could lie. You could feign innocence, deny it with your life, maintain that you and Will are just friends. But what’s the use? Why hide the best thing that’s ever happened to you from one of the people you love the most in the world?

“Yeah,” you grin. “It’s Will.”

He’s practically beaming at you now, equal parts proud of himself and you.

“Knew it,” he murmurs, careful to keep his voice down. “Did something happen?”

You realise now that there’s absolutely no point in lying to Frankie. You’ve come this far. Might as well tell him the truth.

“We’re engaged,” you whisper, grinning from ear to ear.

He pauses for a moment, processing the news. You can see the shock registering on his face. Then, he lunges forward, wrapping his arms around you.

“Oh my god, hermosa! You’re kidding!”

He’s squeezing you so tight you can barely breathe. You hear a shout from the boys outside and remember where you are.

“We haven’t told anyone yet. We’re just living in our little bubble of happiness for a while.”

“Hey, I get it,” he reassures. “I’m so happy for you. Both of you. I knew it’d happen eventually. It was just a question of when.”

You hug him again, so overwhelmed with love. What a miracle, to be loved like this by so many brilliant people.

“We’ll tell everyone soon, I promise. We were thinking of making it a party, a whole celebration.”

“Of course. Just tell me when, and I’ll be there.”

He pinches your knee playfully, before making his way back to his drinks, smile still plastered across his face.

“Hey, Francisco?” you murmur, still aware of the volume of your voice.

“Yeah?” he turns, giving you his full attention.

“So, I know it’s not traditional, but, I mean, when have me and Will ever done traditional?” you both laugh, and you continue. “I was just thinking – and you don’t have to say yes… I’d love it if you did, but really, you don’t have to – “

“Spit it out, mi amor,” he teases gently.

“Will you be my best man?”

He stops in his tracks, suddenly serious, and you’re worried you’ve made a mistake. Then, he breaks out into a grin, practically running over to bear hug you again.

“Of course I will,” he confirms into your ear. “I’d love nothing more.”

“I love you,” you tell him earnestly.

“I love you too, hermosa. So much.”

Frankie kisses you on the forehead once, then again, and begins to pick up the drinks he’s made.

“They’re gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long. You know how they get,” he winks, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You sit in your happiness for a little while, just basking in the glow. You’ve never felt so at peace.

Will wanders into the kitchen, immediately coming over to stand in front of you. His warm palms find your hips, and he leans in to kiss you softly.

“Hi, sugar,” he murmurs against your mouth.

“Hi, handsome,” you mutter back.

“You okay? You disappeared,” he asks, fingers moving in warm circles on the bare skin of your waist.

“I’m good. So good,” you smile, kissing him again.

It’s then you realise what you’ve done. You broke the rule – don’t tell the boys.

“Will?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I have something I need to confess.”

He pulls away so he can see your face, and smiles at you gently, before putting the pieces together in his head.

“You told Frankie, didn’t you?” he asks, still smiling.

There’s a pause before you bare your truth.

“Yes. I’m sorry! He kind of figured it out himself, and he asked, and I didn’t have the heart to lie to him. He’s my best friend, he can see right through me at any given moment. I know I was the one who said we shouldn’t tell them and I know this makes me a hypocrite and I’m sorry – “

Will cuts you off - just like that day in his kitchen - by smashing his lips to yours.

“It’s okay. Sweetheart, it’s okay,” he reassures when you pull away.

“Really?”

“Yes. I promise.”

He rests his forehead against yours, and allows you to breathe him in. Then, he chuckles softly.

“What?” you ask.

“We’re idiots,” he replies.

“I mean, yes. But why?”

He chuckles again, clearly amused, before answering,

“I totally just told Benny and Santi while you were in here telling Frankie.”

You process the information, before bursting into a fit of giggles. He joins you, the both of you laughing like fools.

“You’re kidding!”

“I wish I was. Benny made a comment, said he’s kinda noticed that something has changed, and I just sort of confessed.”

You’re both laughing so hard your sides hurt. What are the chances? It all feels like fate. The two of you, together. The timing of the evening. It couldn’t have worked out any more perfect.

“We’re idiots,” you agree, throwing your arms around his neck. Will pulls you off the counter and spins you around, making you shriek. It’s the most beautiful déjà vu.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The two of you make your way back out to the deck. As you walk over to the boys at the campfire, you’re suddenly caught off guard by two of them rugby tackling you, the three of you barrelling into the ground with a thud. Benny and Santiago are crushing you beneath them, shouting as they do it.

“Congratulations!”

“Hell yeah, sweetheart!”

“How did you even keep this a secret for so long?”

“Yeah, when were you planning to tell us, huh?”

“Can’t believe you’re marrying my brother. Oh my god, we’re gonna be family!”

“The five of us are already family, Ben.”

“Yeah, but, like, legally. Brother and sister!”

Benny’s hair is in your mouth and Santiago’s knee is in your ribcage and your earring is caught in someone’s shirt and the grass is scratching your back and you can’t breathe. Will and Frankie are watching from a distance, chuckling. You wouldn’t change it for the world.

Tranquility.

love is sour grapes | theo. nott

pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader

genre: fluff, angst (if you squint), unrequited love but not really, everyone is an idiot, self indulgent, not beta read.

word count: 5.9K

originally posted on ao3 on: 06/28/2022

"Uhm— would you like to—"

He turned to me calmly, the rest of his appearance devoid of emotions.

"—go out sometimes?" I finished. "As a Date?"

One, two, three beats passes and all Theodore did was look at me. No answer. No emotions. No words. Nothing.

Or Theodore is a quiet piece of shit and that leads to miscommunication and complicated feelings

Theodore Nott. The one constant thought that has been running through my head way too often for my liking. He was handsome, quiet, smart, lanky in all the right ways and never seemed to be engaged in a conversation —or at least one where he was talking instead of just listening and listening and listening.

Talking to him had always been one of my goals, it shouldn't have, really, it shouldn't. But somehow I had found myself more than just infatuated with him. 

Theodore was an observant person, if he noticed me studying him, he never confronted me about it. 

But, as my friend says it, Theodore Nott is sour grapes. Or, in better words, love is sour grapes. If this even was love that is. 

"I think you should just talk to him," Hermione says kindly. "I still don't think that he would be good for you but if you fancy him that much then go ahead." 

"If you want a death wish that is," Ron snickered. "Honestly, can't you have picked a better guy to fancy? I mean— Nott? Of all people."

"Do you want me to fancy Malfoy instead? Would that make you happy," I quipped, hearing Hermione hide a laugh between closed lips. "Or god forbid, you." 

Ron face contorted to one of offense. "I'm notthatbad." 

"Yeah sure," I murmured, with no malice. And turned to Harry who had been quiet about the situation ever since he found out. "What do you think?" 

Harry shrugged, looking startled. "I don't know," He said first, and then. "I think you need someone better than Nott. You're friendly and thoughtful—" he paused hesitantly. "—and you're quite awfully pretty." 

"Thank you, Harry." My eyes fell downwards with no real intention. I was none of those things. "But I don't think he'd agree." 

"What does it matter if he agrees," Hermione said loudly. "Harry's right. You're all of those things. It's his loss if he doesn't go out with you. You're fit, incredibly so. I would be happy if someone like you were to ever fancy me."

If Ron had a reaction to those words, neither Hermione nor Harry noticed. 

"Well," I said as a group of Slytherin walked into the Potions classroom. Potions would be starting any minute now, and I needed to head into class before Snape does. "I'll keep that in mind. If all fails, I'll just have to marry you, Mione." 

With a final smile, I bid them a quick goodbye and made my way into class. The three of them heading to which ever direction they needed to be. 

The class quickly starts, and Snape wasted no time in assigning me a potion to make. Invigoration Draught. The potion that energizes the drinker. How fun.

The ingredients were mostly easy to obtain. Peppermint, Honeywater, Stewed Mandrake then there's Dried billywig sting: my biggest nightmare.

I was only so tall and the shelves where the ingredients were stored stood so so high. I would've used a stool had it been free to use, but a Slytherin had already been occupying it and it would be rude if I were to take it away from them.

There was a cough behind my back, and then, a hand reached; over me and towards the exact thing I needed. Dried billywig sting: my new biggest enemy.

The person pulled back —jar filled with billywig in hand, and stood still as I turned to them. The jar had a decent amount of billywig in it, if they needed it I could still manage to ask for just enough for my potion. That is if they were kind enough to let me have some.

"Could I—" I paused mid-turn. There stood Theodore Nott in all his glory. Dark eyes, dark hair and facial features that looked like every part of him was chosen by Aphrodite herself, watching me with a raised eyebrow. "—uhm, could I have a few of those? I needed it for my potion but I couldn't reach it."

Theodore blinked once, looking unfazed and handed the jar over.

I blinked twice the time he did, opening up the jar; intending on taking out a few and handing it back over when he stopped me.

"I don't need it."

His voice.

"You don't?" I find myself asking, trying not to breathe too loud or to forget how to even breathe in the first place.

Theodore shook his head once. And reached up for something else. Had he seen me struggle and had gotten it just for me?

"Thank you," I tell him. Theodore nodded once, accepting it as it is. I think you should just talk to him. Goddamn it, Granger. "Uhm— would you like to—"

He turned to me calmly, the rest of his appearance devoid of emotions.

"—go out sometimes?" I finished. "As a Date?"

One, two, three beats passes and all Theodore did was look at me. No answer. No emotions. No words. Nothing.

Whether he was scrutinizing me or not, I didn't know. What I do know is that I was wrong and stupid. And my friends were wrong too.

He needed more than me. I might be friendly and kind and maybe quite awfully pretty. But Theodore needed more than me.

"You know what." I cleared my throat, smiling. "Forget I said anything. Have a good day, Nott."

•••

I had been down lately. My friends noticed that. Even Harry and Ron noticed it and they were as daft as they come. Whenever they asked me what was wrong I find myself telling them that I was just stressed over my O.W.Ls.

Which I was. But it was mostly a lie to cover up something I was more upset about. I had idiotically asked Theodore out and now I have to face the consequences of being rejected.

I think —in some ways— him having not even say 'no' or have given a clearer answer was more upsetting then if he had just said no out loud.

It was stupid of me to get my hopes up and think that anything else would've happened. It was stupid for me to even think I was in his league.

It was also late. I hated walking back to the common rooms in these hours but it was my fault for procrastinating my essay until the night before it was due so I had to rush the entire thing in an hour in the library. I had only hoped that Umbridge wouldn't punish me for being out pass curfew.

I had one more hall left to turn before I reached the Hufflepuff's barrels when someone shouted out my surname, halting me in my place.

Fast pace footsteps approached and then, donning from head to toe in pink was Umbridge. Fuck.

"What do you think you're doing out of your dorm at this time?" She asked quickly, her toad like face twitching with irritation.

"I was in the library and lost track off time," I quickly confessed. "I'm so sorry. My dorm's close by and I—"

"It was my fault professor." His voice. "I’d asked for her help and lost track of time. She was trying to head back before curfew but it seems like her efforts were to no avail. I can only hope you would excuse her and blame me for my faults."

Umbridge looked baffled. He talked? Theodore talked? She made that annoying noise that she can't seemed to get rid off. "Well." her voice laced with false kindness.

"I see no point in deducting any points." She then turned to me. "But I will be expecting to see you tomorrow for separating yourself from help at a time as late as this. Merlin knows, it's dangerous for a girl to wander alone at this time."

"Just me?" I asked, slightly confused.

Her eyes flashed with annoyance. "Do you expect Mister Nott here to be punished for wanting to make sure you got back to your dorm safe?"

That wasn’t what he— okay. Fine. Whatever.

"Now, go off," she said with a wave of her hand. "And Theodore, would you be so kind as to walk her back? I don't want to know the troubles she might cause when I let her out my sight."

Theodore nodded, doing as he was told and took a step forward. He looked behind his shoulders, his eyes meeting mine and tilted his head slightly: signaling that we should leave now before it gets worse.

I avoided Umbridge's eyes and stepped forward, trailing after Theodore. Detention. All because I was too lazy to finish my essay any other time I had.

I think I feel my eyes water. I think it feels harder to breathe. I don't know for sure how I feel exactly despite dejected and disappointed with myself.

If I had just made one different choice, I wouldn't have to have detention with the one professor known to physically harm the students. And to top it off, being walked back to my common room by the boy who recently rejected me whilst bottling up my feelings about everything I did wrong.

"You don't have to actually walk me back." I paid no heed to the crack of my voice. Theodore does though. "It's late." I pointed out the obvious. "You should go."

Theodore glanced at me quickly. His look was so quick that I suspected he had planned to only spare me a second of his time. But something about me, something about how vulnerable I must've looked, had him pausing.

"I shouldn't." He said slowly, his tone so attentively that it made me think that he had saw something in me that I never did. "I can't leave you."

"You can." I don't think I can handle being near him any longer, not when he was studying me so cautiously. "It's only a few steps away, I can assure you I'll be fine."

Theodore eyes flickered down the corridor quickly, finally tearing themselves away from me and looked forward, continuing towards the direction of my common room.

When we finally reached where we needed to be. Theodore stood back watching as I tapped the barrels carefully.

I looked over my shoulder once the path opens up. Smiling slightly when I found his eyes on me. "Thank you for taking the blame, Theo. You didn't have to and you did and spared me way too many house points. I really appreciate it."

He made a noise of acknowledgment, taking my word as it is. And then, as he was about to step away. "Goodnight."

•••

I think I hate life. I might be wrong but life sucks. Especially when you have to repeatedly write the same sentence over and over again with a magic quill that tears through your skin.

That can't have been a legal source of punishment but Umbridge made the rules so it was no use fighting her about it.

My hand hurts. Holy fuck, does it hurt. I don't even have to glance down at it for me to see my skin burning red, bleeding slightly. Curved out in the sentence. I will not be out pass curfew. 

"You alright there?" Came a voice. 

I looked up quick and abruptly, sure that I'll get whiplash from my actions; to find George Weasley watching me with interest. I smiled, subconsciously hiding away my hand. "I'm fine." 

"You sure?" He followed up. "You don't look too good."

I nodded, trying to look as reassuring as possible. "I'm fine, just got a paper cut is all." 

He fixes me a look of disbelief but let it slides. "You should go," he said with a small smile. "I think Ron's looking for you? Something about slimey snakes and what not." 

"Oh." The sound slipped out. "Thank you, I'll go find him." 

It was weird to see George without Fred but I decided that I didn't want to know why. They were probably setting up a prank and I had walked right through it. 

Bidding George a goodbye. I continued down the corridor, turned the corridor and found the trio standing by with Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott by their sides. This can't be good. 

Is this what George referred to when he said Ron was looking me about some slimey snakes? 

"There she is," Malfoy said with mild annoyance. "We've been looking for you." 

"You have?" My eyes drifted to Hermione but she only shrugged, looking as clueless as I was. "Why?" 

Malfoy took a steps towards me. "You've been with Professor Umbridge?" 

"Yes." I nodded. "Why?" 

"Did she give you the quill?" 

What was he playing at? Why was he interrogating me? "Yes." I repeated. "Why?" 

Zabini rolled his eyes and step up, seemingly having enough of Malfoy's dramatics. "Here." He handed out a bottle. "It's Murtlap essence. Suppose to help you with the cuts. Nott made it for you." 

"He did?" I asked, taking the bottle of Murtlap essence from Zabini's hand. I turned to look at Theodore, finding his eyes glued to my bleeding hand that was grasping the bottle. Jerking my hand back, I smiled, thanking him. "Thank you for this, I really appreciate and for uhm— thanks again for covering for me last night." 

Everyone —all but Theodore and I— brows raised upwards, surprised. So they didn't know about what had happened last night.

Theodore showed no outwards reaction, having just watch me with a straight face and patient eyes. Then he turned to Zabini and tilted his head slightly. Zabini seemingly understood, slapped a hand over Malfoy's shoulder and with a goodbye, steered the blond boy away. 

"Bloody hell," Ron said exasperatedly. "Did that really happen?" 

"Nott made you Murtlap essence?" Hermione asked more to herself than anyone else. "How did he even know you needed it?" 

"I—" I stopped, glancing at my hand. "—I was out pass curfew and Umbridge caught me. Nott took the blame for it. I think Umbridge was too surprised with hearing him talk to properly acknowledge that he too was out of the dorms pass curfew. She said she won't take away any house points but gave me detention as a punishment." 

"That's all?" Hermione said. "Why would Nott take the fall for it and then proceed to make Murtlap essence for you if there wasn't anything in it for him?" 

"I don't know," I told her, shrugging. "He also walked me back to my common room and wouldn't leave me when I insisted otherwise." 

"Do you think." Ron started. "Maybe that Nott fancies you?" 

"No." I was quick to shake my head in disagreement. "He's doesn't. He's made that clear already." 

"He has?" Harry asked loudly, brows knitted together. 

"Yeah," I murmured. "That day I talked to the three of you. I asked him during class if maybe we could go out on a date sometimes and he didn't say anything. Not a yes. Not a no. Nothing." 

"That's terrible," said Hermione sympathetically. "Honestly, what kind of person rejects someone then proceed to do things as if they cared for them." 

"Hermione," said Harry cautiously, eyes shifting between me and her. "I don't think that does anything to soothe her nerves." 

"Sorry." Hermione blinked in realization. "It's just— you deserve better. I don't understand a thing Nott's doing and I don't want you to get hurt in the process." 

"He could be figuring out his feelings," Ron suggested making Hermione shoot a sharp glare his direction. Ron tsked. "I'm just pointing it out." 

"Well it's not helping." Hermione said in an obvious tone. Her eyes drifted down to my hand, scanning the words then looked back up. "I think you should head back and take care of your hand. You don't want it to scar now, do you?" 

I nodded, waving. "I'll see you at dinner?"

Hermione let out an agreeing hum and went on her way, Ron pestering her from behind. Harry hadn't moved though, looking at me with furrowed brows. "Could I maybe have some of your Murtlap essence?"

"Yeah." I handed it over. "I didn't know you had to endure Umbridge as well."

"Didn't think it was important to mention." He pulled out an empty ink pot from his bag and twisted it open, pouring just enough essence to not overflow it. Harry put the cap back on and handed it back over. "Don't tell Hermione or Ron, will you? I don't want to be a bother." 

" 'course." I smiled. "I won't tell anyone." 

•••

What are the chances that I get caught being out pass curfew twice in the same week. Pretty fucking high because I was once again being called out late at night. 

Two sets of foot steps stops before me and it took me roughly five seconds to realize just how grave the situation was. Draco Malfoy stood tall and smug with Hannah Abott by his side looking tired —if a little irritated by Malfoy's presence. 

"What are you doing out, badger?" Malfoy asked. 

"I was heading back from the kitchens." Malfoy made a face and glanced down at my outfit that looked way too overdressed to be heading down to the kitchens. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes." It was clear that I was caught in a lie. Goddamn you, Radiohead concert. "I must've lost track of time." 

Hannah looked like she wanted to say something but bit her tongue. Not wanting any of her words to be counted as it being biased just because I was her dorm mate. 

And then, as I waited to hear Malfoy state just how many points he wanted to take away from my house. He said with annoyance, "you can go." Unfazed to the look of surprise that showed up on both mine and Hannah's faces. "Tell Nott he owes me one." 

•••

I don't think my head could —or will ever fully comprehend "tell Nott he owes me one." I don't know why exactly but that sentence feels way more ominous than it ought to be. 

ott does not owe him anything for letting me go. 

And I don't think I owe Nott anything for helping me be let go? maybe I could've phrased that better. What I meant to say is that: I owe Nott nothing for his friend's behavior towards me. At least I don't think I do. 

But things works in mysterious way. Like how —despite how ironic I find it— Nott always find out a way to help me out during potions. Especially when it came to the ingredients. 

Though that was the least of my concerns right now. My concern, for now, is revolved between the three books in my hand that I can't decide —for the life of me— which one to buy. 

On other occasions I would buy all three and went about my day but I had only brought enough money for one book and food for the rest of the day at Hogsmeade, and my friend didn't seem like they'd be heading back to Hogwarts for extra cash any time soon. 

I looked over my options once more, trying to figure out which one would be the bang of my buck. 

Option one: All Or Nothing, a novel about a girl trying to navigate relationships with the people she surrounded herself with and see whether they would react differently when she gave them her all, and then; how they would react when she gave them nothing. 863 pages. 

Option two: Glimpse Of Us, a novel about a boy who always —and I mean always, sees his ex in the girls he dates after her. 295 pages. 

Option three: Listen boy, a cheesy novel about a girl who had little to no interest when it comes to going on dates with guys but when her roommate compliments her on the socks she wore, she finds herself wanting to do nothing but go on dates with them. 530 pages. 

Both Glimpse Of Us and All Or Nothing seems like sad book. Maybe it's time for me to find some joy in my life —which seems to seize to exist after whatever happened between me Nott happened. As I turned, intending to put those two books back in their respective places. I was more than surprise to find Nott looking at me with a slight fascinated tilt to his head.

“Which is it?”

"Hmm?" I find myself humming. Should I pick All Or Nothing instead? Wouldn't that make me seem more intelligent than a book about a girl being in love with her roommate. 

"Which one have you chose?" He clarified, and I might've imagined it —no I definitely did because, Theodore Nott's lips did not just curve up at all. 

"This one." I lifted up whatever was in my right hand which just happens to be Listen boy. And there goes sounding more intelligent in front of Theodore. "It seems cute." 

"Is that all?" He followed up and it's then that I realize he was wearing a forest green that had no reasons to make him look as good as it did. Green really was his colour. "Nothing more?"

"No." I shook my head. "Ideally I would like two get these two as well," I told him truthfully. "But I only brought enough for one —technically two, if I stretched it out but that would mean no snacks for the rest of the day so it's a no." 

"I'll get it for you then," he says casually. Like it's something you say to someone you recently rejected. Like he was walking around, waiting for someone to tell him that they haven't brought enough cash for the other books they wanted. "Would you like anything else? I am more than willing to indulge you." 

"No, I don't." I stop myself. Yes, I mean. Because I really did want other books, especially if someone else was paying for it but I know that my poor heart cannot handle it. 

It is already breaking apart at how handsome he looked with his forest green jumper and black ironed pants. His hair, a usual dark brown, just the slightest tinge brighter under the sunlight (which is both a sight for sore eye and a rare view since I only ever see him in the dungeons, hunched over a bubbling pot and disgusting lightings) which flatters him in all the best way possible. 

And no, my heart is not picking up a million paces over I am more than willing to indulge you in that very tone of voice, in that very set of clothes, in very set of lighting, by that very Slytherin that I could not seem to get over.

"You don't have to," I insisted, trying to not shiver under his gaze. He narrows his eyes and it says way more than words could ever say. He knows he doesn't, he wants to. Oh lord save me. "Maybe this one? It's cheaper." 

"That was not my question," he said curtly. "I asked you if you'd like anything else, not which option was cheaper."

What are we even talking about now? Was he planning on buying me the three books in my hands and more or was he planning on letting me pay for my choice then pay for the others I couldn't afford. 

Is my face that much of an open book? Because, without even having to say it. Theodore had already answered my questions for me. "I'll buy you the three in your hands and anymore you'd like. I'd buy you the whole store if you wanted me to." 

I think I'm having a heart attack. Or dreaming. Or both. I can't tell. Maybe I'm dreaming while having a heart attack? Who knows. All I know is that Theodore Nott did not just say that. Did he? 

"No." I shake my head quickly, maybe even too quickly. "No, I— these three are more than enough. I promise to pay you back when we get back to school."

Theodore fixes me a look. One ridiculing me to the point that I wished —more than anything— that I was a bludger being hit so hard I pass through the most oblivious of oblivions. I'm so sure that that would be less stressful. 

"I mean it!" I press all three books to my side. "I promise, and I always keep my promise. I won't take advantage of your money, I will get it and find you as soon as I—"

I didn't see the point in finishing my words because he was smiling. And laughing. I think. It's a mixture of those two and it's so heavenly that I believe in everything ethereal alike. 

Theodore noticed my silence, the side of his lips curved the slightest bit (so so small and tiny that you couldn't even spot it), looking at me with clearly amused eyes. And then, "did you not hear me?" 

"What?" The words slipped out easily. 

"I told you I'd buy you the whole store if you'd like and you think I'd want my money back?" He said slowly. "I couldn't care less about the money. I just wanted to make you happy. Salazar knows, I've made you upset more often than I could count between my fingers." 

Now what the fuck was he on about. He has never made me upset —save for rejecting me that one time,  but I understood it, he didn't like me, that's that. I have gotten over. I think. But I'm more than sure that I could count that one event between his ten fingers.

Unless Theodore only had one finger? Does he? I cast a glance down to his hands and there are those ten fingers. Ten exactly. Not one short or one more. Ten and a couple of silver bands that made me want to do nothing but sit and stare at his long, pale, slim fingers. And how they would feel around my— nope, nope. Absolute not. 

"Merlin, we leave Nott alone and he goes around trying to find his girlfriend." Girlfriend? 

When the owner of the voice, Zabini, finally arrives before me and Theodore, I was no where near surprised to see the other Slytherins in their group by his side. 

Parkinson. Malfoy. And finally, Greengrass —whom I was actually friends with. 

"Well?" Zabini muttered, eyes shifting between me and Theodore, and then landing on him solely. "Are the pair of you planning on standing here the whole day?" 

"No," I said with narrowed eyes. "I don't know what he's doing here, I'm just trying to buy a book." 

Zabini raised a brow. "Is that all, princess?" 

"Pretty much." This feels like a trap. Is this a trap? "Are you planning on going somewhere with Theo?" 

"Theo," Zabini tsked with a smirk. "I've never once called him that and I've known him for about five year now. How cute is that." 

Yep. This is definitely a trap. I think I'm going to die now. 

Theodore, with a roll of his eyes, made his way to my side and pried at the books pressed to my waist. Confused, and a little daze at the warmth of his fingers grazing my hip, I let go of the three books and watched him with wide eyes. 

He seemed (and looked) unaffected by how everyone eyes were now on him. Walking around and picking another set of the exact books I'd picked out. Theodore paid for them without a word, asking for separate bags and handed a set over to me. 

And then, quietly he says. "Zabini's an idiot." He smiled a winsome one and I am so sure I'm dying and this —whatever this was— is just a figment of my imagination that my brain curated during my dying breath. "I like it. Don't ever stop calling me Theo." 

•••

Blaise Zabini is trying to be matchmaker. I'm sure of it. Or else he wouldn't be bothering me as much as he did now. I can't seem to peacefully spend time in the library without being interrupted by him. 

"Hello," he greeted, smiling as he sat opposing me. I raised an eyebrow and he was able to read me quick enough, telling me the reason he was here. "Just wanted to let you know that Nott finished those three novels he bought and he's looking for someone to talk it over with a cup of tea —or coffee, whichever one you prefer." 

Is he implying what I think he's implying? "Why is that any of my concerns." 

"I thought you might be interested." He shrugged. "Since you know, you fancy Nott and all." 

"I don't fancy Nott." I told him. An obvious lie, and Zabini knew that too. "And he doesn't fancy me so it's just a waste of time." 

"Nott doesn't fancy you?" He's laughing. He's actually laughing. What was so funny about the truth? "What makes you think that?" 

"He literally turns me down I when I asked him out," I said blankly. "It's pretty clear, isn't it?" 

"And what exactly did he say?" Zabini asked playfully, as if he was humoring me. 

"Nothing," I answered. "He just looked at me and said nothing, I don't think I need anything else to tell me that it's an obvious no." 

"Nothing?" Zabini repeated with a grin. "Have you heard of being speechless? Or better yet, you know Nott doesn't really speak right?" 

"That doesn't excuse him saying nothing when I asked him to go on a date," I countered.

"It doesn't," Zabini concurred. "But Nott's an idiot." Funny, Theodore said the exact same thing about Blaise. "Did you know Nott did Malfoy's work for a week without complain just because he let you go that one time you snuck out?" 

No. I don't say. Malfoy did say Nott owe him one but I hadn't thought it important. "What does that have anything to do with what you were talking about?" 

"Because," he says exaggeratedly. "Nott fancies you back. I suspected that he liked you since third year though he won't admit it. He won't even admit that he fancies you now but he's incredibly easy to read." 

I shut my book and looked at him. Really looked at him. Trying to gauge whether he was messing with me or telling the truth. "What am I supposed to do with this information?" 

"Ask him out again," he suggested lightly. "Give him another chance for being the biggest twat there is."

"And have him reject me again?"

"He won't," Zabini says calmly. "He'd burn the entire school down before even thinking of rejecting you." 

I hesitate. "I don't want to embarrass myself again."

"You won't," he says with a roll his eyes. "Look I know being rejected is hard, I think I get it. I've never been rejected before. But I also know that the both of you like each other just as much and it's getting tiring seeing you beat around the bush." 

"Nott won't make the first move. He thinks you hate him now for not answering when you ask so you'd have to ask again —if you still want to be with him that is. Do you? Or else I've been doing all this for nothing." 

Yes. I think. I'm pretty sure that I want to be with him. "Do you know where he is?" 

"Oh," Zabini said delightedly. "He's actually coming here right now. I told him I was coming to find you but never gave him a reason why. He'd be here any —speaking of the devil. Hello, Theo."

Theodore doesn't bother to return his greeting. Eyes heavily set on Zabini in a glare that had me shivering just from the side lines. Then his eyes turn to me and his glare on hardens. 

"Hi, Theo." I don't think I've ever since Theodore like this before. "What are you doing here?" 

"What did he do?" He asked instead. 

"Nothing," I said quickly. "He did nothing. We just talked." 

"About?" 

"Stuff."

"Stuff?" 

"Yes. Stuff." 

"What kind of stuff?" 

"Oh you know," I huffed. "The weather. Coffee. You." 

"Me?" 

"Yes." My lips fold itself into a thin line. "Actually Theo. Could I ask you something?" 

His gaze softens when he nods.I am more than willing to indulge you.I am so sure now, more than ever, that love really is sour grapes. 

"Uhm— would you like to—"

His eyes widened, large as saucers as he processed in my words.

"—go out sometimes?" I finished. "As a Date?" 

One, two, three beats passes and all Theodore did was look at me. No answer. No emotions. No words. Nothing. And I am briefly reminded of everything that happened. 

And then, "yes," he says. "Yes, I would." 

•••

Theodore really did read those books he bought me. This I knew now as I sat under the sun on one of Hogsmeade many benches with Theo to my left. 

This part of Hogsmeade was quiet, it wasn't too far from the shops but far enough for no one to frequent by. A few people passed by trying to move from destination to destination but none noticed the bench wedge into the middle of the place where two fifth years were sat, talking about everything and anything under the moon and stars. 

"So you liked it? You liked 'Listen, boy'?"

"I did." He was smiling and I wished more than anything that I'd had a camera to capture every smile he had given me during the pass hours. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes," I laugh and his smile widens. "It just doesn't seem like you. It's a cheesy and corny book and you're always so dark and broody about everything." 

"I'm not dark and broody about everything," he denied. 

"You are!" I countered. "You were even dark and broody when I'd first asked you out."

"That's 'cause I didn't know what to say," he says truthfully. "You could've said yes, that would've made it easy for the both of us," I told him. "I really couldn't. You don't deserve just a yes. You deserved everything, not something so simple." 

"But that yes would've made my week, Theo." 

Theo looked like he was about to say something before he changed his mind. "I'm sorry I didn't say yes when you'd first asked me. Could you ever forgive me?" 

I want to kiss him until his lips, his skin, his hands, his scent, every tiny bit of him is imprinted in my mind. "Yes." I say. "Yes, I think I could." 

Theodore chuckled, his nose crinkling at the motion and something between that laugh and smile of his causes me to lose it. 

My hand reached forward first, palm pressing against his cheek, pulling him closer to me and pressed my lips onto his. I kissed him once then as I reached to pull away; I find that both of his hands had found their way to my cheeks, holding me still as he kissed me back. 

Theodore pulled back, the tiniest of smile on his lips that had the smallest smudge of my lipstick attached to it. And he tells me, as if he had been thinking of this for days, years, lifetimes. "You are the prettiest girl I've ever seen." 

And when I smiled, Theo leans back in. Peppering quick kisses on my lips, my nose, my cheeks, my forehead, anywhere I would let him kiss me; he will cherish it. 

Once Theo finally pulls back —and this was for real this time, no more quick kisses. He looks at me and I know deep down that he will be the death of me when he says. "You are going to be the death of me."

— from bee: the thing about theo is that we know nothing about him so you can’t say that this is ooc :>

Pedro boys smoker matrix

Friendly discussion and even fiery debate welcome as always! 🔥

I'm back! In true Cee fashion, this idea attacked me from nowhere and I couldn't stop until I was done. This was so much fun to put together, and I have many thoughts to share under the cut.

• Masterlist •

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Chain smoker

Javier

The OG who makes these sucking on these cancer sticks look sexy AF, he is the only one out of the Pedro boys who deserves this accolade. Whether he's lighting up, talking around a cigarette, staring into space smoking on one - it doesn't matter what he's doing with it, he sells it.

Stress smoker

Tim Rockford, Dave York, Marcus Pike, Maxwell Lord

I wanted to put Tim in the chain smoker category, I'm convinced this stressed detective easily smokes a pack a day, but since we weren't treated to any evidence of his smoking habits, I decided to put him in this one instead. The others are pretty self-explanatory given the nature of their jobs, but can I just say - I would kill for a glimpse of Dave York smoking.

Social smoker

The Thief, Max Phillips, Nico, SNL Charlie

You know these guys wouldn't miss the chance to schmooze, especially over a cigarette.

Weed only

Dieter Bravo, Ezra, Oberyn Martell, Javi Gutierrez

I mean, if they had weed in Westeros, Oberyn would be all over it, it fits right in with his lifestyle. Both Dieter and Javi do recreational drugs in the movies, and Ezra? He gives the vibes that he grows his own weed.

Quit after kids

SNL Meemaw, Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Jack Daniels

Don't @ me, Jack didn't lose his baby and his wife, he had two more kids and is living happily ever after 😭 We saw Joel's reaction to Tommy smoking, and I like to think that Frankie quit smoking and drugs after his baby arrived. And you just know that Meemaw used to smoke cos she's badass.

Never smoked

Din Djarin, Pero Tovar, Edward, Ricky Hauk

Din for obvious reasons of his religion, and Pero because I did some *research* and the movie is set in the early 11th century, which is before tobacco was introduced to Spain or China. But I just know that Pero would be a chain smoker in another life. It's so much fun including the two baby P's in this compilation - I've never watched Buffy or Touched by an Angel, but you can't convince me these two literal angels have ever touched a cigarette.

Mother Knows Best - George Weasley

Pairing : (F/M) || George Weasley x Reader Word Count : 3.2k Warning : None. Notes : This story was posted first on my Ao3 account.  The Weasley family dinner might not just be another gathering this time as Molly Weasley invited his long lost lover. Set after the Great War. Fred is very much alive.

George curses as he looks out the window. The sun is already at its peak and he has yet to clean the shop for their family dinner tonight. Fred has excused himself for a night in with Angelina and Ron has an auror duty till late evening so he was left alone to clean. He couldn’t just flick his wand around as most of their products require fragile handling so manual labour would be required and seeing the tight window he has, he’s sure to be scolded by his mum later on.

Trying to make the best of the time left, he hurriedly cleaned and dressed himself before scrambling up the second floor to organise the new stocks that came earlier that week. The imported Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder has yet to be unpacked and a handful of other goods are scattered all over the place. He was supposed to make note of the inventories last night but the task slipped off his mind after a glass or two of alcohol.

He was indeed going through a rather rough patch.

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Fred Weasley - Outgrown

Pairing : (F/M) || Fred Weasley x Reader Word Count : 2.9k Warning : Arguments. Fred being a dick. Prompts : “I’d ask but judging by the look on your eyes, I can already tell that you’ve closed our chapter.” Notes : I’m sorry it took forever for me to post it. It’s a rather challenging request, I have to admit. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Time is a thorny thing to understand. One minute she’d wish to freeze it, pack it in a box and keep it under her bed to visit every once in a while. The other time she wished it would pass faster than the beat of her heart, unable to stand and watch as the situation unpacks right before her eyes. But most of the time, she wished that she could go back and relive the moments where things felt perfectly in place.

She’s spent every ticking of the clock each night to figure out when things started to crumble. When was the last time his hands felt perfect in hers? When was the last time his words sent blissful jolts to her spine? When was the last time his smile and laughter fueled her heart with delight? But those questions slowly turn into what. What happened? What made them strain this way? What did she do? What did he do?

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