The Only Way Out Is Through

Frankie seemed like a perfect boyfriend. Loving, attentive, hot, sweet, loyal. He showered you with love, actually listened when you talked to him, ate you out and fucked you so good your legs would shake after. For a few months everything had been going great until he started to be … too much. Too needy, too jealous, too overbearing. He wanted to spend all your free time together, wouldn’t give you space, constantly called you when you were out with your friends. His fits of jealousy were flattering at first but soon began to annoy the hell out of you. Not expecting things to get better, you decided to break up with him.

Frankie begged, cried and pleaded on his knees the day you did it. His strong reaction saddened you but you were adamant. You’d never let a man control your life.

You’ve been single for about a month, so you’re spending Valentine's Day with your friends at a bar. You’ve just taken your third tequila of the night when someone taps on your shoulder.

It’s Frankie.

After the break up he had texted you a lot, wanting to see you again, talk things over, but every time you refused. Now with alcohol coursing through your veins you think ‘let bygones be bygones,’ and throw your arms around his neck with a shrill ‘Heyyyy!’

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear in the noisy bar and you feel your panties dampen. Yeah, he turned out to be an insufferable boyfriend but he’s still hot as fuck.

Frankie gives you a sweet smile and you drown in his beautiful eyes. Making it really hard on you, he takes his cap off and runs his fingers through the soft curls, his arm muscles bulging. Just like the first time you met, your heart flutters when he shyly looks into your eyes.

Your mind on the other hand reminds you of all the spying, the mistrust, the lack of freedom that ruined your relationship but you’re tipsy and your pussy cares little about the past, purring at the sight of your ex.

“How you been?” You ask, taking a step back, creating a distance between you two. Frankie shrugs, his smile faltering.

“Missed you.”

“Ohh,” you nod slowly, while guilt is scratching at your heart. Frankie rubs his cheek, glancing at your friends, and offers,

“Wanna catch up? I’m over there. My friend couldn’t come so I’m drinking alone.”

He motions to the furthest table, away from your friends in the bar crowd.

You feel your bestie’s hand on your shoulder, and knowing well that she’s number one Frankie hater, reply with an apologetic smile,

“Maybe some other time, Frankie. I'm with my friends.”

Frankie takes your hand and leans closer, your eyes locked.

“Just a few minutes, darling. Please.”

His kicked puppy eyes as always melt your heart and you cave in.

“Ok.”

Frankie beams at you and steps aside while you’re turning to your friends.

They want to go to a club not far from the bar and you say that you'll find them there. Your best friend rolls her eyes and makes you promise that you won’t become a cliché and sleep with your ex on Valentine's Day.

“‘Course not,” you assure her but she throws you a sarcastic look before leaving with the others.

An hour later you’re still chatting with your ex. The conversation is flowing, the sparks between you are flying, and you catch yourself hoping that he’s changed.

“Shots?” Frankie offers, and feeling adventurous, you agree.

Soon he returns with two shots of vodka and hands one to you,

“You first,” he says, giving you the alcohol.

You slam it and chase the burning liquid with a curly fry.

“Good girl,” Frankie praises you, watching you closely.

“Really, Frankie?” you giggle, your eyes big, your pussy wet. “You never called me that before.”

“You love it, huh?” He searches for your eyes, sliding his hand over yours. “Love being my good girl.”

You smile weakly and grab the table with both hands, your head dizzy. ‘Damn, that vodka is strong’, you mumble and Frankie quickly wraps his arm around your shoulders, holding you up.

“Easy, baby.”

You try to say something but your tongue won't move. The whole bar goes silent, the whole world turns dark.

You wake up on a bed in an unfamiliar place, wearing the same clothes as last night.

“Morning, sweetheart.” You hear Frankie’s soft voice and see him sitting on the edge of the bed by your side. A window behind him tells you that you’re somewhere in the woods.

“Frankie?” You rasp, trying to sit up, but to your horror find yourself handcuffed to the bedpost.

“What the hell?”

You tug at the chain but of course nothing happens.

“What the fuck?!” You repeat louder, glaring at your ex. He reacts to your question with a sympathetic smile,

“Don’t, sweetie. You’ll hurt yourself.”

Still pulling at the chain as hard as you can, you push,

“Why am I handcuffed to the bed? Where are we?”

Frankie ignores the first question.

“We’re in my cabin. Bought it a couple months ago. Before… you know.. before you dumped me.”

A smile spreads across his face as he adds, “I bought it for us. A surprise. Wanted to celebrate Valentine’s Day here. With you.”

He looks out of the window and then turns back to you.

“And we are celebrating.”

“Huh?” Your heart is beating loudly in your chest, your wrist is getting sore from the metal and you take a deep breath hoping that he’s confused or drunk. Or both.

“Frankie,” you say in a softer voice. “We broke up. I can’t … I’m not going to stay here.”

“But you’ll love it! I have it all planned out.” His eyes light up as he speaks eagerly, “We gonna have a barbecue, then take a nice walk around the lake.” Frankie’s carefully reading your face. “Then we can make a campfire and when it’s nighttime we’re gonna stargaze. Remember our first night together?” He asks, scooting closer to you. “We slept under the stars. Well… we barely slept then so… Tonight we can recreate that night.”

He chuckles with a wink and anger burns your stomach, your scream rings loudly in the room.

“Frankie! You kidnapped me, handcuffed me to the bed and now you think that I’m gonna do all that romantic shit with you?! Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

Your ex’s expression changes — his smile drops, his brows furrow, and looking hurt, he mumbles,

“Let me try to get you back, sweetheart. Please.”

His puppy eyes aren’t doing shit to you at this moment.

“Fuck you!” You shout. “You won’t make me spend another second by your side!”

You violently start pulling at the handcuffs, not caring about the pain in your wrist.

“Stop!”

Frankie’s never shouted at you before and his raised voice makes you freeze.

“I can make you,” he says calmly now, his dark gaze sliding over your body. “I can make you do whatever I want.”

Your blood runs cold when you see him pull out a gun from behind his back. The one he taught you to shoot a few months back at a shooting range. The one with real bullets.

“Frankie…” you whisper, your eyes darting between your ex’s face and the weapon in his hand. “Are you using again?”

The question immediately pops up in your mind. You can’t believe that your sweet, gentle Frankie would threaten you like this, and you’re searching for any excuse for his insane behavior.

“I thought I needed drugs before,” he says softly. “Then I realized… I only need you.”

You swallow hard, staring at him with disbelief and fear. ‘He’s gone mad,’ you think, panicking.

Frankie grabs something from his back jeans pocket and hands it to you. You jerk away, scared.

“Shhh,” he calms you with a little smile. “It’s just a Valentine’s card.”

You take it with a shaky hand and read the message, lots of red hearts around it.

♥️I love you today

tomorrow

forever♥️

‘Forever.’

The last word sends chills down your spine and you realize — you’re in big trouble.

Thank you for reading!♥️ Comment and reblog if you liked the story. It’ll make my day💕

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“Can I buy you a drink?”

You look up from your phone and your breath catches in your throat. The guy looking down at you with a shy smile is so gorgeous it makes your chest ache.

You’d spotted him across the bar as soon as you’d entered, playing pool in the corner with his friend. Of course you’d known you never stood a chance with him, but he was so nice to look at you’d been chancing glances over at the pool table all night from the little booth you and Angie had occupied. A fact that Angie had not failed to notice and tease you for.

“Let’s go over and introduce ourselves,” she’d said following your eyeline. “They’re cute!”

When you’d shaken your head, horror struck at the suggestion she’d just chuckled and rolled her eyes before heading to the bar for another round. Of course in her head such things were simple. She was tall and slim and beautiful and everyone fell in love with her the instant they met her. She’d never know how it felt to be you. Nothing special. Plain and fat. Most of the time it felt like people would look right through you. You could only imagine the mocking look you’d get if you went over there. No one would ever choose you when you stood next to Angie. No one ever had. And those who you had ended up with had always ended up making it known that you were the consolation prize.

And yet here he was here smiling at you as your brain scrambled to figure out what was happening. He was still looking at you expectantly and you belatedly remembered he’d asked you a question.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thank you. Just a beer,” you managed to respond, brandishing your almost empty bottle at him.

His smile got even wider and you wanted to melt under his gaze. “Sure thing, be back in a mo,” he told you before turning towards the bar completely clueless of the internal spiral he’s sent you into with one simple question.

You try to stifle the smile that wants to break out over your face. The warmth that is spreading outwards from your chest.

Your joy is short lived however as you scan the bar and spot Angie over by the pool table with your mystery man’s friend.

A heavy weight sinks into your stomach. Of course. He’s not interested in you. He’s just being a wingman. Keeping the chubby friend occupied so his buddy can shoot his shot with Angie.

You battle against your disappointment as you see him heading back towards you, beer in hand. At least he’s being polite about it. Sometimes the guys that get sent over to distract you can barely hide their contempt. Wanting to make it overtly clear to you that they’d rather be anywhere else. So it could be worse. And Angie has always been so good to you. You want her to find a nice guy and be happy.

You put a polite smile on your face as he sits down opposite you.

“I’m Frankie,” he tells you, passing you your drink.

You give him your name and drink in the smile he’s giving you. He really is so handsome. The little dimple on his cheek as he beams at you makes you weak at the knees.

You try to reign yourself in. Remind yourself that he’s not interested. But he seems interested. Asks you about yourself, where you’re from, what you do, about your family and offers the same information up to you eagerly when you ask.

When you learn that he’s a helicopter pilot you nearly swoon.

“Was in the forces for a good long while but got out a few months back. Got a job flying the air ambulance.“

“Frankie that’s amazing,” you tell him breathily, trying your best to force your mind away from Frankie in a flight suit. But good Lord, the fleeting picture in your mind is enough to dampen your panties.

He gives you a wry smile, “yeah, after I got my discharge I wanted to do something good you know? Give back a little.”

He’s perfect. So sweet and charming and you find yourself wishing you were better. Worthy of him. But the sound of Angie laughing at his friend, who you now know is called Benny, is enough to bring reality crashing back in. But maybe if Angie and Benny hit it off, you can at least get to spend some more time with Frankie. And maybe if you could get your shit together and lose some weight, maybe one day he’d see you differently. You push the thought down before you can drown in the want.

Conversation flows so easily between you that you completely forget about your nerves, about how self-conscious you are. You forget where you are. You forget how this started. You forget about Angie and Benny. Until Frankie drops a bomb.

It's when you ask if he has any vacations planned, he tells you about a trip up to some cabin with the boys from his unit.

"We go every year, all of us, partners too and we just spend the week, hiking and out on the lake. It's awesome. So beautiful. Benny's actually planning on proposing to his girlfriend while we're up there."

You feel as though you've been doused in icy water. You don't hear anything he says after that. Your brain has done a full detour. Benny has a girlfriend and is still out here hitting on Angie. And Frankie. The guy you had thought was so perfect was just totally fine with that. You want to be sick.

Flustered you just cut him off mid sentence, "need to use the bathroom."

You bolt out of the booth and beeline over to the pool table. You catch Angie's eye, "going to the ladies, you coming?"

Angie's eyes light up, no doubt excited to tell you about the man she's spent the last hour or so with. She smiles at Benny, "back in a sec," and hands him her cue.

She slips her arm through yours and you all but drag her to the bathrooms.

"Hey what's the rush?" she asks as you pull her into the ladies. "How's it going with Frankie? He's cute! Seems like you've been getting on very well." She wiggles her eyebrows at you and you can't even answer her, you just have to get it out.

"Benny has a girlfriend!"

She chuckles, "I know, he's going to propose, showed me a picture of the ring, it's beautiful."

You feel like you're in the twilight zone. Of all the reactions you had anticipated, that had actually been nowhere on the list. Your brain stutters like it's malfunctioning, trying to work out the appropriate response.

"What?! And you're ok with that?"

"Um, yeah, why wouldn't I be?" She looks at you like you have two heads. You're not entirely sure that you're not looking at her the same way.

"Uh because he sent his friend over to wingman me so he could hit on you?"

"Wingman you?" She bursts out laughing and you start to get annoyed.

She manages to get a hold of herself but just barely, little peels of laughter still breaking through. She grabs you by the shoulders and makes you look at her. The annoyed look on your face almost breaks her resolve.

"Hey, what's so funny? I can't believe you're ok with a guy hitting on you when he's about to propose to someone else."

"You're so clueless, it's adorable. Frankie wasn't wingmanning you." You open your mouth to protest and she shushes you sternly but softens when she sees how confused you are.

"Frankie wasn't wingmanning you, Benny was wingmanning me."

You open your mouth and close it again. You don't know what to say. She's wrong clearly. You start to shake your head as if the action alone is enough to prove her wrong.

She catches your chin in her hand, making your head still and making you look at her.

"When I came out of the bathroom Benny intercepted me, told me that his friend was crushing on you bad and asked if I'd play a game of pool with him to give Frankie a chance to go over and talk to you. And then it looked like you two were getting on so well, we just left you to it."

It doesn't feel real. But Angie wouldn't lie to you. She's far too sweet to play such a cruel prank.

You feel all at once overjoyed and terrified. How can you face him again now? Your time with Frankie has been so enjoyable, but now that you know he's interested in you, you're right back to feeling awkward and worthless. ‘He can do better’ is the only thought in your head. You have the batshit idea of climbing out of the bathroom window to avoid seeing him. So that you never have to watch that realisation dawning behind his eyes.

Angie shakes you gently by the chin.

"Hey, look at me." She waits until you do. "What's going on?"

You feel tears welling in your eyes and feel even more stupid. You're such an idiot.

"Why the hell would he be interested in me?"

Angie face looks pained as she pulls you into a hug.

"Because, you idiot, you're a beautiful, interesting, kind, caring woman."

"Angie!" you whine, wanting to argue with her assessment.

"Nope, you're going to be quiet and listen for a minute." She pushes you out so she can look you in the eye.

"I need you to hear me ok? I know you've been treated like shit in the past. But those losers didn't deserve you. Frankie saw you across the bar and thought you were so beautiful he couldn't take his eyes off you. And he's been sat listening to every word out of your mouth for over an hour and giving you heart eyes the entire time."

She smiles when you take a deep breath and bite your lip. Was that true?

"Just give him a chance ok? He seems like a good guy. And he seems to really like all these curves if the way he was watching you walk away is any indication." She slaps your ass for emphasis and the pair of you burst into giggles.

"Ok?" she asks.

You nod. "Ok." She dries your tears and helps you fix your make up before you head out.

It's only when you see a concerned looking Frankie leaning on the pool table, nervously nibbling on his thumb that you realise just how long you've been in the bathroom.

The second he sees you he pushes off the table and comes straight to you. You see his hand twitch at his side, almost like he wanted to reach out to you. Angie walks back over to Benny, leaving you to it.

"Hey, are you ok? I'm sorry if I said something to upset you."

You smile at him. He's so sweet. You feel bad for making him worry.

"Can we go outside for a minute, I could do with some fresh air."

He nods and follows you out. Its quiet outside thankfully, the standing tables all empty. You make your way to one over to the side, tucked away next the wall. Frankie follows, staying close but not pressuring, not being pushy.

He looks at you with the saddest puppy dog eyes, "I really am sorry if I -"

"Frankie," you interrupt him. You know it's rude but you also know you need to say what you need to say now or you might lose your nerve. "You didn't do anything wrong. It was me, I think I got the wrong idea when you came over."

You see the confusion on his face but you keep going. "I thought you came over to give Benny the chance to hit on Angie, I thought you were only trying to distract me to help him out and then you said he has a girlfriend and I freaked out."

You see some of the tension ease from his shoulders as you explain your weird behaviour. "No, it wasn't - it was, it was the other way around," he tells you with a shy smile, reaching out and taking your hand. The touch of his skin against yours sends a shock through you like a live wire and you have to fight to keep from throwing yourself at him.

"Angie told me. I'm sorry if I freaked you out. Just… I'm not really used to guys showing interest."

"I find that very hard to believe," he tells you softly, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand. It's not said to flatter. The sincerity in his voice puts a lump in your throat that has you cursing yourself even as your lips twitch upwards.

"There's that pretty smile," he whispers, stepping closer. You can feel the heat of his body now and you want to just slump into his chest and let him hold you and tell you everything will be alright. But you somehow manage to restrain yourself.

"I had a great time talking to you tonight, I'd really like to get to know you better, if you'd be up for that?" he asks, gentle and hopeful.

You feel your face heat and you can’t look him in the eye. “I-I’d really like that Frankie,” and you almost can’t bear the huge smile that breaks across his face, you need to make sure he knows what he’s getting into. “But look, I wasn’t kidding before. A-about men not being interested. I-I haven’t had the best experiences and I’m kind of a mess and-”

“I don’t care,” he interrupts you now, stepping even closer and wrapping his free hand around you to land on your back and pull you closer.

You squeak in surprise and he chuckles, your mouth opening and closing like a fish as you scramble to get your train of thought back on track even as your free hand comes up to clutch at his shirt, wanting to pull him even closer.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he tells you with a grin.

“Frankie,” you whine, “I’m being serious!”

“So am I,” he teases, bumping your nose with his, holding you so close but so gently. “I like you, I want to get to know you better, ok?”

“Ok,” you agree after a moments hesitation, waiting to see if he changes his mind. “I’ll try and reign in the crazy.”

“No!” he tells you sternly, his commanding tone making you clench your thighs together. “I don’t want that,” he’s softer now, hand coming up to cup your face, “if you’re upset, or scared or worried, I want to know. Even if you think it’s stupid. Especially then. Please don’t hide from me.”

“Frankie,” you sigh, as his forehead falls forward to rest against yours.

And it’s so nice. You feel so safe and warm. It’s hard to believe you’ve only known him for a short time. You want to believe him so badly. Want to be wanted by him.

“Been dreaming of having you in my arms like this since you walked in the door,” his breath is warm as it fans across your face. “Can I kiss you?”

You’re not used to this at all. The gentleness with which he handles you. The way he gives you so much grace. You nod against him.

“Need words honey, tell me it’s ok.”

“Please Frankie, kiss me.” Your voice sounds desperate and pleading but you’re far too happy to care as he calls you a “good girl,” and leans in.

His lips are warm and soft and plush as they press gently against yours. He doesn’t rush, just lets them linger against you for a moment. It’s heaven. And then he pulls away slightly and takes in your blissed out face before leaning back in and this time he sucks your bottom lip between his. And when you gasp he slowly reaches out his tongue and gently swipes just inside your bottom lip.

Your breath hitches and he feels you tugging him closer by the death grip you have on his shirt. It’s all the encouragement he needs to dip his tongue in further, still gentle and controlled, rubbing against yours as you melt into his embrace.

You don’t know how long you kiss for. What you do know is that at some point your back has ended up pushed against the wall, that his body is in full contact with yours and that kissing him is the best thing you’ve ever done. He tastes so good, and he smells even better and everywhere his hands touch - your arms, your back, your hips, your cheek, it leaves a trail of tingles that have you about to lose your mind. When he pulls back you chase him a little and a little whine escapes from your throat.

“Shhh baby, it’s ok,” he peppers quick pecks against yours pouting lips, “if I don’t stop now I’m not ever going to and unfortunately I have to work tomorrow.”

You chuckle and bury your head in the crook of his neck and he pulls you in close, placing a few soft kisses on the side of your head.

“It’s a 12 hour shift tomorrow so I won’t be able to see you but how about the day after?”

“That’s Valentine’s Day!” you blurt out, not sure if you have a point to make or if your brain is so mushified from the best make out session of your life that your mouth is just firing things out with no filter.

He looks down at you, a teasing grin on his face, “I guess it is, what do ya say then honey? Want to be my valentine?”

You lay your head back on his chest and listen to the rapid thud of his heartbeat. It makes you smile to know that even he is a little on edge.

“Yes Frankie, I’d love to be your valentine.”

///

My taglist is currently under construction, see this post, so for now, some npt:

‘The morning’ is always busy. Your five year old daughter Maya is sitting at the breakfast table, sleepy and cute, slowly chewing on her pancake, while you’re running around the kitchen, doing a million things at once.

You’re packing her lunch for preschool, when Frankie walks in already dressed in his t-shirt and jeans, his hair disheveled. It might be his pillow’s fault or it might be yours — you love running your fingers through his soft curls while he makes you feel insanely good with his skillful tongue.

“Morning, ladies,” he rasps, joining Maya at the table, and then pulls you in for a kiss. You hum against his lips, remembering last night, but Maya diverts your attention with a question,

“Mommy, where's Fluffy?”

“He must be in your room,” you say, ready to go upstairs and grab the bunny she never leaves the house without.

“Nope,” Frankie stops you as his hands circle your waist and pull you back to him. “Sit down, beautiful. Have your coffee before it gets cold.”

“But Fluffy…,” you object, giggling, as he tickles your sides.

“I’ll find him.”

Frankie gets up and pushes down on your shoulders until you take a seat at the table. He pecks the top of Maya’s head and hurries upstairs.

Soon he returns triumphantly, carrying Fluffy like a baby in his big arms, and both Maya and you cheer.

You’re drinking coffee, feeling grateful to Frankie for making you take a moment for yourself. Now you have time to enjoy the company of your husband and daughter, smile at their synchronized yawns, look into their sleepy eyes, feel that you three are a family.

When it’s time to leave, Frankie puts his cap on and helps Maya tie her shoes at the door. You give her a big hug and a kiss. Breathing in the banana scent of her shampoo, you whisper against her ear, “Have a wonderful day, baby.”

Then you throw your arms around Frankie’s neck and your lips meet. His are so soft and addicting. You dream of holding him in your arms longer, of kissing him more, yet there’s no time.

There’s never enough time.

You watch them go to the truck, your heart bursting with love and happiness, but your eyes are already wet.

“I love you, mommy!” Maya shouts while Frankie’s buckling her to a carseat.

“Love you, mommy,” Frankie repeats, throwing you a playful wink, and you laugh, shaking your head.

You wave them goodbye as they’re driving off, and then return to the kitchen.

To your dismay you see Fluffy forgotten on the table.

“Shoot!” you exclaim in a silent house. They haven’t gone too far, Frankie has time to return for the bunny so Maya won’t be sad without him all day.

You grunt, failing to find your phone on the messy counters, panic rising in your chest little by little.

Then you hear a ring.

You finally find your phone under Maya’s book and frown.

“What the hell..” You stare at the screen, expecting it to be a call from your husband, but you don’t see ‘Frankie’ with a pink heart next to it.

Instead it’s an alarm clock going off. An annoying sound that usually makes people groan and hit Snooze.

The sound that always makes your blood run cold.

You open your eyes.

It's morning. A real morning. A morning you dread .

You sit up fast in your empty bed as if a bucket of icy water’s been thrown over you a second before - your eyes are widened, your heart’s pounding in your ears, your clammy palms are pressed to your heaving chest.

A chest with a huge hole in it.

It was a dream. Frankie. Maya. Family.

Future with the man you loved…still love.

Your future burned in flames when Frankie’s helicopter crashed last year. That crash took everything from you. Your fiancé. Your life with him. A child that you’ve never even had.

Maya only exists in that dream. The dream that torments you a few times a month, fills your heart with immense love and then rips it out of your chest with a cruel hand.

The dream is always the same, to every tiny detail.

The colour of Maya’s shoes, the smell of coffee, the warmth of your never-to-be husband’s arms. The haunting dream leaves you empty and heartbroken. Lonely. Depressed.

A symptom of PTSD, your therapist says, your mind is trying to cope with the loss that’s bigger than life.

Crying silently, you make yourself get up and drag your feet to the bathroom. With shaky hands you open the mirror cabinet and stare at a bottle of pills on a shelf. Your therapist prescribed them to you to stop the dream from coming, to make the painfully realistic fantasy leave your head once and for all.

The bottle is full. How can you say goodbye forever to Frankie and Maya? You can’t. You’d rather see them once in a while in that reoccurring dream. You’d rather go to work with your eyes puffy from crying than never hug them again. You’d rather have a family for some time than have nothing at all.

You wash your tears away and start getting ready for work.

You’ll kiss Frankie again soon, you’ll feel the warmth of his body. You’ll hug your daughter tightly. You’ll cherish every second you have with them in that dream.

Before it ends.

Thank you for reading! Please, don’t hate me😅 Instead comment and reblog if you liked the story. It's the greatest compliment for a writer💞

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