#Francisco Morales x reader

[undercoverpena]

16. apple green

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter sixteen of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.7k chapter warnings: dad!frankie. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. FLIRTATION TO THE MAX. an: this chapter made me beam from start to finish. like my face hurts.

prev chapter | series masterlist

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

It’s long, your exhale. Stretching out slow and full, cheeks still tingling with the lingering ache of laughter as you gaze at the horizon.

Just where the sun dips; its final rays painting the sky in lavender and rose. You're joined by a gentle, warm breeze whispering through the air, carrying the salty scent of the sea and the soft hum of waves caressing the shore's golden sand.

The air is cooler now under the encroaching dusk, as the tide steals the footprints, making them vanish.

And it’s perfection. All of it.

A moment you wish you could pause and live, exactly like this, for a handful of hours.

The sound of flip-flops meeting soles is what eventually ruins it.

It pulls your glance over your shoulder, watching his approach—shades shielding his eyes, hair loose in slightly longer curls, it almost dry from your earlier fun in the water.

Then you see his smirk. The one which grows as he nears, knowing what you’re thinking, even if you try to hide it. Because if you had gone to grab pizzas, you’d be face down in the sand—food ruined, embarrassment smothering over your cheeks. But, he carries it one-handed like it’s nothing. A bottle of soda under his arm and a plastic bag dangling from his wrist, as you shift on the blanket that’s still warm from the sun, arms reaching up to help.

“Hey, Butterscotch.”

“Hey, Mi lluviosa.”

You don't even fight how you beam at your nickname's new variation. The one that had slipped out when he'd turned his alarm off, eyes all closed with your face buried into his neck.

The jingle of his car keys sounds as he throws them to the edge of the blanket, watching him join you as the scent of melted cheese, tomato and toppings greet your nose before you even open the box.

“Smells so good.”

He utters a soft agreement as your knee abuts his; periodically glancing at him as you grab a slice, chewing with a smile as he wrestles with his toppings and strands of cheese from tangling in his beard.

By the time you’re both full, the chill of the evening air is making you shiver, when you gently slot the cardboard lids back into place. Tenderly, as you watch another wave rise and crash against the beach, your palms tenderly brush up and down your arms.

He notices—or must do. Moving onto his knees to dig around the duffel you’d both brought—a jacket pulled out, before sliding it around your shoulders, coming to sit behind you. Legs on either side as the scent of him joins you.

Toes wiggling in the sand, his hands sliding over your legs, you turn. “Would you rather be a jellyfish or a starfish?”

Exhaling a groan, your back comes to rest on his chest. Eased there, guided. Your ankle accidentally nudges one of the half-empty pizza boxes in your movements—a thing you hope remains sand-free from when you get back to his and decide you wish to nibble on a little more.

Blowing out a puff of air, it tickles against your ear as his arms come around you. “Jellyfish.”

“Is it because they glow in the dark?”

Laughing, kissing the side of your head. “No. But that is a good reason.”

“You want to sting people, don’t you?”

Sliding your hand around the back of his neck, fingers scratching at his hair, smiling, biting down on your lip as he presses another kiss.

“Maybe.”

“Deviant.”

Softly blowing against your ear, drawing shapes along his scalp as he whispers, you love it.

And you do.

Fuck you do.

Do you think I need to reconsider jeans and a black tee for what we’re getting up to today?

No, you’ll be fine. I’m putting up some shelves is all.

Does this mean you’re going to tuck a little pencil behind your ear?

Do you like the idea of that?

Might do.

I’m beginning to worry you’re with me for my hobbies and not me.

How about you stop looking so hot when you do your hobbies?

I’ll try. It’s hard to turn off.

HA HA HA.

HA.

You're there, in a stranger's home, for all of ten minutes before you realise that you’re not needed. Not that Frankie says anything.

Only confirming it when you ask, “You sure you don't need me to hold this?” Voice-breaking the quiet hum of the electric drill he’s holding.

Carefully re-positioning one of the wooden shelves against the wall, his brow furrows in concentration, a single dark curl falling over his forehead as he glances from the step-ladder, eyes nothing short of warm and twinkling despite the overcast light. “I've got it, but your company makes it easier,” he replies, tone nothing short of affectionate, sweet, truthful.

“Francisco Morales, did you want me here as eye candy?”

He buries his answer with the drill as you wander over to the window smirking, seeing that the sky is still a thick blanket of grey, clouds heavy with the threat of rain. Even without the window open, you know the air is cool, likely damp, carrying a hint of petrichor as you turn on your heels, watching from your new position.

You don’t suppress the small smile that plays on your lips—something comforting about the sight of him so focused, so intent on getting everything just right.

“Could you just pass that for me?”

Smirking, you quickly move over to pick up what he’s gesturing at, turning it over in your hand. “This?”

“Please.”

Biting your lip, grinning. “What do I get for it?”

“The knowledge I’d be done earlier.”

Tilting your head from side to side, you scrunch your face—almost wanting to twirl the tool.

“What if I wish that you'd do me yourself, Morales?”

Pausing, the wood in his hand lowers down the wall as he turns his head, staring, mouth falling open before he eventually rests the plank against the wall. Slowly coming down the steps, across the plastic-covered floor, it all scrunching under his boots. “That what you want?”

His hands slide around your waist, palms flat, dragging along the fabric that covers your skin, rippling fire out across your body as you curl in, arch, ghosting your mouth over his.

“We can’t fuck in this person’s house, Frankie.”

Groaning, low, deep in the back of his throat, you smile—mirroring the one he traces across yours. “Remind me why?”

“You make me messy.”

Grunting, pressing it to your neck. “Yeah?”

Nodding, biting your lip, pulling his face up by your palms on his cheeks, mouth ghosting over his. “Really messy.”

Inhaling, you feel him agree. Mouth meeting yours, before you ease his nose to your lips, pressing a kiss. “Finish drilling, Morales. Then we can go home and you can drill me.”

He mumbles something in Spanish under his breath.

Guess how my morning has been?

Wonderful? Full of coffee and people asking for tips on how to twist a screw in.

No, not everyone is you. Harold has asked me three times when he’s next seeing you.

Oh yeah, I should really return his call for our second date.

I know you’re joking, but ouch.

Don’t worry, Francisco. He’s just a side piece. You’re the main. I want to get lunch, do you want me to bring you some and then you can pee around me so he knows?

Please. He keeps asking if you like diamonds.

Tell him I’m not mad at a diamond.

Shooting a wink at Harry, he lifts his chest up from his leaned position on the counter. Head dipping, fingers sliding across his lips as though they’re a zip before tapping his nose.

That familiar scent greets you just as graciously. All fresh-cut wood, spilt paint and lemon disinfectant, as well as Harold's aftershave. The one change—the biggest—is the missing crackle of the radio, you had found a compact, newer one a few weeks back, placing it on the counter with a big red bow and a card for Harry.

Bag swinging in your fingers, it’s a hunt to find him. Peering down aisles, eventually spotting him crouched—cargo trousers doing their utmost to remain stitched across his thighs.

You’re grateful he wears an apron that covers his groin. Half-fearful of the eye contact you’d give the area in what he’s currently wearing.

Digging your hand into the bag, and retrieving the top plastic carton, you do a little wiggle down the aisle with it.

“What’s this?”

Shrugging, stopping just before him as he stands. “Cake?”

Placing his clipboard down, narrowing his eyes as he takes it, turning it over.

“Butterscotch—that’s the flavour.”

Scrunching his face, he sighs. “I… I don’t know if I like it, baby.”

“Well, more for me.”

Smiling, pressing a kiss to your cheek, he motions to peer in the bag. “You like it?”

“Well, I like you.”

“Not sure it’ll taste like me.”

Tongue in your cheek, looking him up and down as he straightens, you wait a beat, and then another, before adding, “Shame. Guess I’ll have to keep eating you then.”

“Menace.”

Moving close, lips almost touching his, you whisper the same words he said to you only a day or two ago, you love it. A low whine leaves his lips, stifling it against your mouth, a crooked finger under your chin, making kissing a little easier.

“Wanna eat in the office?” he asks.

“I was thinking we could eat as you cut wood. I love sawdust seasoning.”

Pinching your side, not able to stop the giggle, he turns you on the spot, leading you back down the aisle you’d come down. “Go in, I’ll be a moment—just gonna tell Harold that I’m going on break.”

Nodding, twirling on the spot, you wink. “Tell him I love him.”

His palm manages to catch you on your ass as you roar with laughter.

Butterscotch Morales.

I’ve been first named.

Did you put flowers on my car?

Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t.

You lured me there to be romantic?

Well, it is very hard to be romantic when you’re at my house.

I can go home early if you want.

Don’t you fucking dare.

Noted.

I also think you’re doing just fine in the romantic department. For one, they’re gorgeous. And the deep clean you gave me in the shower this morning still has my thighs shaking.

I don’t think you know how good you look with soap suds on your skin.

I have an idea now.

You fancy anything particular for dinner tonight?

Can you be on the menu?

I think it can be arranged for dessert.

Okay. Then tacos?

Double helping for me then.

Francisco!

You’re smirking I can feel it from here.

You know before you open your eyes what day it is. A mixed blend of emotions that flood you as you wake to the thick scent of freshly brewed coffee, breakfast—maybe eggs, you can’t be sure.

Heart both full and heavy as it coaxes you from your sleep, your lashes flutter, eyes blinking as you stretch your arm out across his dark bedsheets. You hate that you can feel the warmth fading. Dismay flutters in your chest, as you begin to fight the urge to roll face down into his sheets and glue yourself to his mattress.

“Morning, baby,” he whispers, interrupting, eyes finding him in the doorway, leaning, head resting against his bicep, a slither of his stomach on show as his top pulls up. “I’m making us breakfast.”

“You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” he replies, palm patting against his thigh. “If you want a shower, you have time.”

“Telling me I smell?”

Tongue sliding over the front of his teeth, he smiles—mischievously. “Maybe I just want you to smell like my soap for when you go home.”

Home you think. A tightness in your chest all but inflicted by the word. Four letters. Barely anything. Yet, you have to bite down on the inside of your cheek when he kisses your forehead and heads back out of the room.

It bubbles as you glance around the room—his room—taking in the cosy armchair with your jacket laid over it, the photograph of you and him surrounded by ones of Luca, Frankie and Luca or his friends.

Then, you hear him singing. The sound makes your heart throb at the same time as it brings a smile to your face as you head to his bathroom.

You find that the only benefit to showering is wrapping yourself in his cosy robe before you make your way to the living room.

Frankie lounges on the sofa, hand patting the spot beside him. You eagerly curl up next to him, nestling your head against his chest as his arm wraps around you, the other hand resting on your knee, thumb tracing soothing circles.

The tray of breakfast sits on the coffee table. You reach for a piece of toast, nibbling as you settle in. After a moment, you taste it—the eggs cooked just how you like, the toast perfect, just the way you love it. Of course, he has.

Frankie watches you with a tender expression, his fingers continuing their gentle caress on your knee.

“You excited?” you murmur between bites, “He’ll be here soon.”

Hand stroking over your leg, he swallows. “Yeah, I’ve missed him,” he replies, his voice a low, comforting rumble.

You look up at him, your heart swelling with love. “He’s going to have so many stories.”

Snorting, he runs a hand down his face. “Oh, I know.”

You smile, let the tranquillity of the moment wash over you, savouring the simple joy of being with the man you love. Curled up together. “Thank you for letting me see him before I go.”

His cheeks flush slightly, and he leans down to kiss the top of your head. “You know you don’t have to go.”

Staring at him, thumb swiping over his upper lip, removing the crumb from a slice of toast. “I should. Before I never leave.”

The tip of his tongue peeks out, swiping across his lower lip as his fingers do a dance on your leg. “That doesn’t sound half bad.”

Rolling your eyes, picking up your coffee. “You can ask me better than that, Morales.”

You don’t add that you hope he does.

Draining more of your coffee as you stare at him over the porcelain, placing it down before kissing his cheek.

“I should go pack.”

His groan follows you as you head back off to dress—folding things, shoving others into a bag and cleaner clothes back into your drawer.

It’s a try, an almost fail to not feel a sting of tears as you leave your bag on the bed.

The embers of it flickering inside of you even when you take over cleaning for him when he tells you Sam’s car is pulling up. It almost douses it, his joy, drying the mug in your hand when you peer into the living room as the front door is flown open and you see Frankie bear-hugging Luca as Sam follows in behind him.

Miss you’s turn into excitable tales. Occasionally translated by Sam as you wipe the side free from water, closing a cupboard quietly and drying your hands.

Then, when you’re about to slyly move into the room discreetly, you hear her call your name.

For a second, your head turns, but you don’t move. Just glancing, pulse pounding in your ear as you find Sam smiling, waiting, brows slightly raised as though you hadn’t made it up that she’d spoken your name.

“Can we talk… outside?”

It takes all of your restraint not to flick your eyes to Frankie.

For what, you’re not sure—reassurance, need, it all blurs into a stew inside of you as you reply, following her through the living room and out of the front door.

Nails digging into your palm, you try to breathe. In and out, out and in. But it builds.

And it builds.

And it builds.

Unable to stop the anxiety shifts into something thicker, less easy to keep down. It rises in your throat, choking you. Something similar to bile, as your head runs through a thousand things—whether you’d been too much with Luca, whether Frankie hadn’t shared that you’d be here, whether and whether and—

“I wanted to thank you,” Sam begins, smiling, hands linked together in front of herself, “Frankie… he’s a great, great dad—”

“The best,” you add. And then shame blooms over the anxiety at interrupting.

Sam, though, doesn't seem fazed. If anything unbothered. “The best. I’m very lucky to co-parent with him. But—”

Your stomach knots. Tightens.

A ball swelling inside of you as it becomes harder to breathe, to take full ones that fill you with air and rational thinking.

“I know he didn’t help make all those things.”

Oh, you think.

Shoulders unlodging from your ears, sliding down to their normal place.

“You must have spent hours on them,” she continues, a soft line in her forehead appearing as her face lightly scrunched, “All of them. The t-shirt? The candle? The card—the card, was so, so nice. It was so thoughtful. I can’t… I am not ashamed to admit I cried my fucking eyes out.”

Shifting your weight, a smile breaking out, “It was all Luca’s idea. I just wanted—”

“I imagine some of it was, but not all of it.”

You blink. It’s that or let your eyes fill up too. Seeing her staring, watching, with nothing but gratefulness on her face.

“I’m… I’m glad he has you,” Sam says quickly, almost hurriedly. “Luca. And Frankie.”

Her hands come around her waist before relaxing at her side, lips rolling, looking as nervously as you did moments ago.

“Thank you, for helping him with the gifts,” she continues.

Swallowing, you nod. “Anytime—if that’s okay? I… I don’t want to be anything but Rainy to him.”

Smiling, she inhales. “I know.”

“Good.”

A beat happens, the two of you finding yourselves admiring the other when you hear Luca’s laugh echo out of the house.

“So, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what is it with Rainy?”

Laughing, you press your hand to your face, watching her smile, waiting—patiently. “It’s a stupid joke, Frankie’s doing.”

Sam raises her brows, and stares in waiting, gesturing for you to continue.

“Okay, well—”

The next time it rains, can you kiss me in it?

Baby I’ll kiss you whatever the weather. Am I allowed to ask why?

It’s romantic, isn’t it?

Are you watching a movie?

Maybe.

And we haven’t kissed in the rain. We’ve kissed nearly everywhere else.

Well, I’d hate not to have kissed you everywhere, baby.

What’s happening in the movie?

Lots of declarations.

Ah. Lots of when we first met, I wasn’t looking for someone, I was running from it. But, you really wanted to try and build something, and before I knew it, I was falling.

That kind of thing yes.

I miss you.

I miss you too, baby. The bed feels strange without you asking me random questions.

I think watching this was a bad idea.

Answering his call, you don't pause the movie—just turn the volume down. Curling further into your couch as you tug the blanket up your neck, bringing his voice to your ear.

“Hey.”

“Hey, baby. Is the movie making you sad?”

Nodding, you swallow back the lump in your throat. Tears springing, the ones that had already fallen.

“You choking up so much you can’t reply to me?”

Laughing, tears spluttering, you sniff, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand as you grin—half-shaking your head. “How’d you know?”

You hear rustling, imagining him in bed. In the middle of the place, the two of you have been sharing. Wondering if he can smell your perfume, whether he misses the extra warmth of your skin like you currently miss him.

“‘Cause I know you. And, you do this little sniffle you try to hide and—”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupt, hearing him laugh, it tickling down your ear, making your chest go all warm like it usually does.

Like it always does.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have put this on.”

Snorting, it’s followed by a groan. One you now know he does when he stretches, when he’s trying to loosen the tightness in his back.

“Why did you?”

Because I miss you, you almost reply. Unsure how he couldn’t know, wouldn’t. A horrid thought burst through everything, standing all determined in the wake of nothing but only joy and happiness for days. Making your heart hurt, shrink and fall somewhere along the pit of you. Because maybe he didn’t know, because he didn’t miss you.

Maybe he felt happier that he had his home to himself, his bed, his things—

“I miss you too, Rainy.”

A gasp escapes, one enriched in emotions, fresh tears falling as you pause the movie, curling up more, knees pulled up as he repeats it.

“What do you miss?”

He snorts again, but more full of tease, “Fuck, where do I even start?”

“At the beginning of the list.”

“Oh well, firstly, I miss the fact I’ve not been asked if I would rather be a cactus or a house plant.”

And you smile. It stretches out, sliding into your cheeks—for the first time since you came home to emptiness—you feel happy again, even as another tear rolls down your cheek and you ask, “Well, what would you prefer?”

Frankie laughs. It flows down the phone, somehow brightening your own home, even if he’s not inside of it. It makes you kick off the blanket, stand up, turn the television off—and the lights—and walk the lonely route to your own bed.

Half-wishing you’d taken him up on the offer of staying one more night.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Cramps

Summary: After going off of birth control, your periods have been a little more intense than you're used to. What starts out as a stressful morning between you and your husband, very quickly turns into a night that bodes very well for the both of you.

Paring: Husband Frankie Morales x Wife f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.4K on the dot (idk how we got here)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) PERIOD SEX, unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also they want a baby so), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, again, you're on your period but our pussy eating king Fransisco Morales is an unstoppable force of nature), creampie, praise kink, big fat nasty breeding kink (it's who I am now, I won't apologize for it), Frankie's got a NASTY mouth, Frankie is the best husband, reader is on her period/has period symptoms, talks about family planning/not being on birth control, use of nicknames (hermosa, quierda, cariño), reader has no physical descriptions besides that she can wear Frankie's clothes

A/N: Well... This was gonna be a drabble... and then it was just gonna be fluff.... and then it was gonna be just some implied smut... and now, we're here??? Idk, don't ask me 🥴 self indulgent bc I just finished my period (and my periods have been whack since stopping bc) and what better way to heal myself than imagining what Frankie would be like taking care of you 🥺 also pls be nice to me this is my first time writing Frankie and I'm v nervous EEK I hope you enjoy!!! sorry Javi bby, I still love u

Bitchy. 

You wished you had a better word to describe your mood for today, but truth be told, bitchy was by far the most accurate. 

You and Frankie were hoping to start trying for your first baby soon, and had recently gone off your birth control after your doctor had told you it may take a few months for your body to regulate itself before you had a better chance at getting pregnant. Your doctor had also  warned you about many of the symptoms and side effects that stopping the pill could have, one of those being becoming more aware of your emotions and mood swings throughout your cycle. That, you were prepared for. 

What you were not prepared for, was to feel like an absolute psychopath in the days leading up to your period. 

 Your cycle had  been wonky the past few months as your body began to sort itself out- you had a feeling your period was probably about to start soon, but hadn’t thought much about it, considering your terrible and grouchy mood had overshadowed it. You had tried your best to pull yourself together the past few days, chalking up your grumpiness to long hours at work, or just being in a weird funk, but today, you woke up with a fire in your gut, ready to fight, and poor Frankie was about to be your punching bag. 

Sweet Frankie had been nothing short of a saint when it came to just about anything, but dealing with your newly heightened emotions right before your period really should have earned him some sort of Presidential Medal of Bravery, considering that your newly discovered highs and lows while PMS-ing were just as frightening as any time he had spent during his time in the military. 

Unfortunately for your husband, despite his best efforts, he had been on your nerves all morning. Not because he was really doing anything wrong, but because the little things that you were normally so good about letting go, or the patience you frequently had seemed to have flown out the window, and you were convinced that if Frankie even breathed the wrong way, you were going to absolutely lose it. 

So when unsuspecting Frankie decided to ask you a simple request about after work plans, there was very little he could have done to prepare for your response. 

“Morning, Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, emerging into the kitchen, his hand rustling through his untamed, sleepy brown curls as he let out a yawn and a stretch, the slight softness of his stomach peeking out between his t-shirt and pajama pants as he raised his arms above his head before settling behind you. He wrapped himself around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder as you finished putting the last of your lunch in your bag for work, trying to force yourself to focus on his sweet good morning, rather than the empty bowl of cereal in the sink that had greeted you first thing when you woke up, already starting you off on the wrong foot in your already irritable mood. 

“Morning, babe.” You grinned, forcing yourself to forgo the annoyance hidden behind your smile as you pecked a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips before gathering the rest of your things for the day scattered across the kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to make you breakfast this morning because I was running late, but there’s extra scrambled eggs on the stove if you want them. I’m really sorry, Frankie, I gotta head out, have a good day, I’ll see you later okay?” You sighed, slinging your work bag over your shoulder, your hands full of your coffee mug, water bottle and keys, your cluttered grip and running behind schedule only adding to your frustration. 

“All good, Querida, no worries. Hey, actually baby, before you leave,” He paused, setting down the coffee mug he was just about ready to take a sip of, as if a little lightbulb had just gone off in his brain, “do you mind picking up stuff to make that really good buffalo chicken dip for Benny’s tonight? I told ‘em we’d bring like, an appetizer or something, if that’s okay.” 

For Frankie’s sake, you couldn’t have been more thankful that you had your back turned to him, because if looks could kill, Frankie Morales would have been a dead man. 

Every rational part of your brain knew that even though his request perhaps wasn’t the best timing, stopping by the store and making dip to bring to Benny’s for game night really wasn’t that much time or effort out of your day. But today, it seemed like every part of your brain but the rational one seemed to be functioning properly, and the raging, irrational part might as well have heard that Frankie wanted you to prepare and cook a Thanksgiving meal for 74 after you got home from work. 

You took a deep breath, your grip tightening around the items in your hand, praying with every bone in your body that someway or another, you had misheard your husband. 

“Tonight? As in, like, today, after I get home from work?” You questioned, trying to do your best to keep your tone from sounding too condescending. 

“Yeah, we don’t have to be there until 7, I just don’t think I’m gonna have time to since I probably won’t be outta work until 6:30.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another swig of his coffee 

Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.  

You let out a deep sigh, even more over dramatic than you had intended it to be, arms crossed over your chest and stark frown spread across your face as you turned towards Frankie. 

“Oh, perfect! That’s a great thing for me to find out about at 7:45 A.M. the day of, Frank!” Your voice oozed with ferocious sarcasm, now slamming your things back down onto the table to run your hands over your face. “No, that’s great, because there’s nothing I wanted to do more than to come home and make buffalo chicken dip instead of all the other shit I needed to do today before we left! Amazing! Thank you!” 

At this point, you were almost positive that if your eyes rolled any further, they’d be in the back of your skull, letting out another angry huff as you shook your head at Frankie, who was looking absolutely petrified as he leaned back against the counter, eyes darting to the floor to avoid yours, running his hand over the wispy curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie began to stammer, trying to defend himself from your wrath. 

“Hermosa, I’m- I’m sorry? I know it’s last minute, but you normally make it every time we go over there, I just- I figured it’d be easy for you to do? You can get something else, or I can try to stop by the store really quick on the way home, I just might-” 

“Nope, you want buffalo chicken dip, apparently I’m making buffalo chicken dip!” You groaned, collecting everything back into your hands, swearing under your breath as you tried to balance everything in your grip. “Jesus, okay, I need to go to work, just- I don’t even know. I gotta go, Frankie.” 

“Querida, I-” Frankie pleaded, beginning to trail behind you as you made your way to the front door. 

“Frankie, whatever, it’s fine! I’ll make the stupid dip! I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” You could feel the muscles in your jaw beginning to clench as you gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you to keep from exploding as you headed out of the house. Without even a kiss goodbye, you left Frankie in the doorway, watching you throw your things in the car and slam the door behind you as you drove down the driveway. 

But as soon as you were on the road and your house was out of view, you could instantly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, slowly streaming down your cheeks as you began to sob, wondering why you had ruined the morning over as stupid as an appetizer, and even worse, that you had been a complete asshole to your husband about it. 

You couldn’t have been more thankful that work had been quiet today- no meetings on the schedule, and no one coming to bother you, leaving you plenty of peace and quiet to continue sulking and brooding in your unpleasant mood. 

Right around lunch time, you found yourself eating alone in your office, wishing your lunch was about ten times saltier and chocolatier than it was, crying to yourself as you watched a video of a dog meeting its new human sibling for the first time.

Just as you were beginning to pack up the rest of your lunch and start back up with your work, you felt a terrible twinge in your lower stomach that had you just about keeled over in pain, followed by that all too familiar feeling in your underwear. 

Frantically scrambling, you reached into your bag to pull out a tampon, hurriedly shuffling to the nearest bathroom, only to reveal the murder scene equivalent as you pulled down your pants. 

Your period had come.  

In that moment, as much as you were dreading the pain and misery that was the next few days to come, you couldn’t also help but feel a slight sense of relief, realizing that you were in fact, not actually a crazy person for the way you were feeling, you were just PMS-ing out of your mind. You couldn’t also help but feel absolutely awful for your unjustified freak out at your husband this morning, your heart sinking with guilt as you made your way back to your desk, immediately grabbing your phone to text Frankie. 

“Hey… I’m so sorry about this morning. What you were asking me to do wasn’t a big deal at all and I totally freaked out on you. My period just started, I think that’s why I’ve been such a bitch this morning. I’m sorry, Frankie, I love you.💕 ” 

It was almost instantly after you hit send that the reply bubble popped up in your message, your heart pounding anxiously waiting for your husband’s reply. 

“It’s okay, I kind of had a feeling 😉 babe, you weren’t being a bitch- I should have talked to you about it sooner. Shitty timing on my part. I’m sorry. I love you too, Querida.” 

Before you could even respond, another message popped up below his first. 

“Don’t worry about going to the store or making anything tonight. I already texted Benny and told him we couldn’t come. We can spend the night in, just the two of us. I can pick up takeout on the way home if you want and we can pick a movie to watch.” 

You could feel your frustrated facade beginning to melt away as your lips shifted from a pursed frown to a small smirk reading Frankie’s text, your thumbs quickly tapping across the screen of your phone to reply. 

“Thank you. You’re the best.” 

“Of course. Hopefully none of your co-workers ask you to make buffalo chicken dip before you leave 😘” 

“Oh shut up, meanie.” 

“Just kidding. Have a good rest of your day, love you. 💙

“Love you too. 🤍” 

Although the rest of your day was nowhere near enjoyable, given the fact you felt like you were getting punched repeatedly in the uterus and your personality resembled that of Oscar the Grouch, you knew that your night in with Frankie was your light at the end of the tunnel, and only needed to make it a few more hours before there was at least some sweet relief finally headed your way. 

Despite the constant stabbing pain in your lower stomach and back, your drive home from work had you in much better spirits than your drive there, now not only having an explanation as to why you had felt like such a mess, but also knowing the rest of your night was going to be dedicated to nothing but cuddling up in your comfiest clothes and snuggling up next to Frankie on the couch. 

As you pulled down your street, you were surprised to see Frankie’s truck already parked in the driveway, wondering what he was doing at home almost an hour earlier than he had mentioned he would be this morning. Gathering all of your things out of the back of your car, you quietly entered your home, confusion scrunching in your brow as you called out for your husband. 

“Frankie? Babe, are you home?” 

Before you could even kick off your shoes or hang up your coat, Frankie had already appeared at the front door to greet you, boyish grin spread across his face as he grabbed your things out of your hand, carefully placing them on your entryway table before engulfing you in a bear hug, his broad arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer into his chest. 

You could feel all the muscles in your body instantly relax as your face rested against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, soaking in the familiar woody and savory scent of him, letting yourself be consumed by every ounce of his embrace. 

“Hi Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, running his hands up and down your back as you looked up at his sweet brown eyes shining down at you. 

“What are you doing home so early? I mean, not that I’m mad about it at all, I just thought you said that you had to work until 6:30 and-”��

“Told my boss I had to head out early for a family emergency.” Frankie smirked, laughing at you playfully rolling your eyes from his so-called excuse. 

“Last time I checked, your wife being a grump because she’s bleeding out of her cooch doesn’t classify as a family emergency, Fransisco.” You teased, giving him a little shove, making the two of you giggle in tandem. 

“Eh, close enough. I’m really sorry about this morning, querida. I was a dick for not talking to you about plans beforehand and just assuming you could go do it. It wasn’t fair of me.” 

“It’s okay, Frankie. What you were asking for wasn’t a big deal and I made it one because I’ve been a psycho all day. I’m sorry, too.” 

“Well,” Frankie paused, pressing another kiss onto your cheek, the width of his palm gently cradling your jaw as you stared up at him and his sympathetic smile, “number one, you are not a psycho. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now, so even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Number two,” he paused again, shifting his kiss from your cheek to your lips, his thumb delicately swiping across your skin, “you’re my wife and I love you more than anything, and if I can take a little time off to help make you feel better, it’s the least I can do. So, why don’t you go change into something comfortable, and when you get back down here, I will have pizza and ice cream, whatever movie you wanna watch, and a back rub ready for you, okay?”   

“Okay. Thank you, Frankie. God, you’re the best.” You grinned, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your mouth meet Frankie’s, the plush pout of his bottom lip swiping across yours, lingering just long enough to let the butterflies in your stomach begin to swirl, heat creeping through your cheeks in the tenderness of the moment.

“Of course, cariño. Te amo. Now go get changed.” With one last peck on his lips, you wiggled out of Frankie’s grasp to make your way up the stairs, grinning to see that your husband had already set out your favorite of his oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants, neatly folded on the bed for you to grab, quickly shuffling out of your uncomfortable work attire and exchanging it for Frankie’s clothes, your smile growing even wider at the feeling of perpetually being wrapped up in the essence of him. 

As you made your way back downstairs to meet Frankie, you found your heart skipping a beat again to see that the better part of the living room had been turned into a cozy sanctuary- lights dim and candles lit, both parts of your couch squished together, filled with every pillow and blanket you owned, and Frankie sitting in the middle, giant box of pizza, tub of ice cream and your handsome husband waiting for you. 

As if your emotions hadn’t already taken you on a wild roller coaster of a ride today, the adorable sight in front of you had you on the verge of tears again, wiping the wetness pooling in your eyes with the back of Frankie’s sweatshirt sleeve drooping off your arm before crawling into the blanket fort he had constructed for the two of you. 

“Frankie… You didn’t have to do this.” You sniffled, curling up next to Frankie as he draped a blanket over your lap and his arm over your shoulder, passing you a plate with 2 large pieces of pizza. 

“It’s the least I could do. I put on Hercules for us to watch, but if you wanna-” 

Before you could let him finish the rest of his sentence, you were running your hand across the scratchy stubble of his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you planted a kiss on his lips, feeling your smiles melt into one another's as your mouths met. “That sounds perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky?” 

“I could say the same thing, mi amor. You ready to start the movie?” 

“Only if you also pass me that tub of Ben and Jerry’s to go with my pizza.” 

“I think I can make that happen.” 

About half way through the movie, pizza and tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, your and Frankie’s bodies were tangled together in a sea of limbs and blankets, contently snuggled up with one another as Frankie’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back and shoulder as you laid against his chest. 

“You doin’ okay, querida? Need anything?” He cooed, his soft voice dancing in your ear. As if it weren’t enough that you had already been through the extreme highs and lows of almost every feeling under the sun today, the one you hadn’t been until this very moment was insatiably horny. While the mood swings you had mentally prepared yourself for with your new period symptoms, the constant other kind of ache between your legs you had not, and feeling the low rasp of Frankie’s words tickling your neck had been just enough to flip the switch to make you desperately needy. 

Letting your leg slide over Frankie’s lap, you pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, running your hands through the dark curls of his thick, brown hair, and down his broad chest, your fists bunching the worn fabric of his shirt in your hands as your mouths became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth. 

“I need- fuck- I need you, Frankie, please.” You pleaded between muffled moans, his tongue swiping in the parted space where your lips melted together as one, instinctively beginning to grind your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants starting to grow beneath you. 

“Fuck- You sure, baby?” Frankie rasped, reactively bucking up into you, making you whine as his hands dug into your hips, guiding you as you swirled over the tented fabric of his bottom half rubbing against your covered core. 

“Please. Please, Frankie.” You were all but whimpering at this point, nodding frantically in approval as Frankie used the grasp on your hips to guide you onto your back, making you cock your head in confusion as Frankie scampered to the other side of the couch, back turned to you as he reached over the ledge, pulling out a thick, black towel with a smug grin on his face. “Did you seriously have a towel ready incase I wanted to have sex?” You snorted, shaking your head at Frankie, now crawling back to you, caging your body under his with an electric kiss as he shimmied the towel underneath you. 

“Maybe.” Frankie smirked, breaking from your kiss to let his lips trail down your body, his hands toying with the edge of his sweatshirt covering your body as he pushed it up your stomach and chest, helping you to shimmy it over your head, leaving your top half exposed. He gently palmed at your breasts, taking each pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking at the buds with his tongue before letting his kisses travel down the soft skin of your stomach and waistband of your sweatpants. The clothes on your bottom half soon joined your sweatshirt in a crumpled pile as Frankie nestled himself between your legs, gently nudging your hips to let your thighs part, revealing your pussy, slick and shiny for him with your juices. 

Even though Frankie would eat you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a late night snack, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still found himself between your legs during your time of the month, considering any other man probably would have scoffed at just the thought of going down on you on your period. 

But, then again, Frankie Morales wasn’t just any other man. 

“Frankie, baby, you know you don’t- Oh fuck!” You gasped, cut off in surprise as Frankie’s tongue licked a long, broad strip across your cunt, making you shudder in pleasure as his head perked up, revealing the devilish grin spread between his cheeks watching your chest already heave in heavy, shaky breaths. 

“Oh I know I don’t have to, sweet girl. But I want to. Relax, baby, lemme take care of you.” 

Before you could agree, protest, or anything in between, Frankie was back between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs as they draped over his broad shoulders, digging his fingertips into the plush softness of your skin, dragging his tongue through your folds with the exact grace and precision that he knew made you fall apart in seconds. 

With flat, firm presses of his mouth latched against your clit, you could already feel your bottom half writhing under him, the perfect pressure of his tongue dancing around your sensitive bundle of nerves making you moan in pleasure. As your head dipped back, falling into the couch pillow behind you, your hand shot down, fingers burying themselves in the wild curls of Frankie’s hair, tugging at the thick ends for any sort of release as he worked relentlessly at your aching cunt. 

“Fuck, Frankie, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your praise only intensifying the way your husband drank every ounce of you up, two thick fingers now gently pressing inside your heat, curled deliciously as they rocked in and out of your entrance, nudging against your g-spot. 

Frankie had spent enough time worshiping the altar that was your pussy to know exactly how to make you crumble beneath him, leaving you chanting his name like a prayer as his lips latched around your clit, ferociously sucking as his fingers prodded at the soft, spongy spot that made your cunt begin to clench and heat in your belly pool. 

“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Frankie groaned, his words humming deep in his chest, placing chaste kisses on the inside of your thighs before drinking you up like a man starved, adding a third finger into your heat, the added fullness and stretch, combined with Frankie’s relentless pace, enough to have the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine now washing through every inch of your body. Your orgasm began to crash through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins, making you cry out Frankie’s name over and over. 

Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum again, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become, your pussy slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the Frankie and fucked you senseless with just his tongue. 

Wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand, Frankie tugged the sweatshirt covering his own body over his head, followed by his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock as it slapped against his stomach, his tip red and leaking with precum as his broad body loomed over yours, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as you whimpered his name. 

“Frankie, holy fuck.” 

“Such a good girl for me, querida. You still want me to fuck you, baby?” He mewled, the metallic and tangy taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he kissed you, laughing to himself at the way you found yourself frantically nodding your head to tell him yes before your words could. 

“Jesus Christ, yes. Fuck, please Frankie, I need to feel you.” 

Reaching down to stroke himself, he lined his cock up with your entrance, easily sliding into your heat and brushing his tip against your cervix, taking a moment to let you adjust to his fullness. The whine you let out as Frankie filled every inch of you was nothing short of ragged, digging your nails into the skin of his broad back as he ever so slowly began to thrust in and out of you, dragging his length against the slick of your cunt. 

“Oh fuck me- Fuck, you hear how wet you are for me, sweet girl? This what you needed, baby? To fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” Frankie groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, his sweaty curls now starting to stick to his skin as he pounded into you, rutting his hips at a faster and faster pace. 

“It’s all for you, Frankie- Oh shit- only for you.” You moaned, your fingers wrapping around the width of his biceps, flexing deliciously as he hovered over you, sucking you in to a long, deep kiss, fucking into you over and over. 

Even with the years between you and the ring on your finger, the possessive part of Frankie’s brain would never get over how the primal and all consuming feeling of knowing you were his, forever, your words shooting straight to his dick as a low groan rumbled in his chest, silently cursing to himself through gritted teeth, watching you fall apart below him. 

Readjusting himself, Frankie sat back on his heels, hooking his arm under one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, the new angle stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as Frankie rammed into your g-spot and began thumbing at your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm. You could already feel the heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, your leg beginning to tremble hoisted over Frankie’s shoulder as he dug into the meat of your thigh with a bruising intensity. 

Just like he would never get over the fact of knowing you were his, Frankie would never get over watching you begin to crumble under his touch, taking the time to memorize every twitch and twinge your body made as you came closer and closer to your end, always savoring in the moaning mess you’d become as you fell apart around him. 

“Fuck, Frankie, Fuck, oh my god- I’m close, baby.” You were all but rambling at this point, your brain barley stringing together coherent sentences as you felt your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, the lewd noises of your moans, wetness and skin slapping together as your hips met filling the room at a borderline pornagraphic rate. 

“Meirda, I’m not gonna last much longer, hermosa. Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Frankie growled through gritted teeth, his eyes locking on yours and telling him everything he needed to know without you saying a word. 

“Inside. Fuck, please Frankie, I want you to cum inside me.” 

Your confirmation was all it took to flip the switch in Frankie that sent him absolutely feral, the thought of being able to actually knock you up now that you weren’t on birth control anymore, giving you a baby, proving another way to the world to mark you as his? The thought alone was enough to have him bracing every bone in his body to keep him from cuming right then and there. 

“Fuck me. You want me to fill you up, querida? Fuck me full of you? Fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, huh?” Frankie moaned, grunting with each thrust of his hips, his rhythm becoming more frantic and shaky as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling them in frantic circles to make sure you came before he did. 

“Fuck, yes. I need you too, holy fuck- wanna make you a daddy, Fransisco.” 

You could feel the tightly wound knot in your core starting to snap, your legs trembling and breath shaking as Frankie fucked into you, finding yourself on the verge of collapse- but not before Frankie’s filthy mouth got the last word in. 

“Jesus, fuck- Fuck, hermosa. That’s what you want, pretty girl? I swear, I’m gonna fuck myself so deep into you it’ll fucking take. Get you fucking pregnant tonight.” 

That was all it took to have you orgasm come crashing through you, every inch of your body radiating with pleasure as you came, crying out Frankie’s name as you gushed around him, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head, your mind going blank and numb, the only thing grounding you were the incoherent ramblings of your husband as he followed suit behind you. 

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, fuck, fuck-ahhhhhh.” With one final thrust, Frankie could feel himself spilling against your walls, coating you with his spend as his cock pulsed, making sure he milked himself of every last drop deep inside your cunt before even thinking about pulling out. Moving your leg, Frankie slumped into you, splaying himself across your body as your chests rose and fell in sync, laying in silence as you let your breathing steady, coming back down to Earth from your high. 

With a shallow grunt, Frankie carefully pulled his softening cock out of your heat, leaning back to admire the mess he had made between your legs, his cum dripping down the inside of your thighs and pussy glistening with the mixture of your arousal. You let out a soft hiss at the loss of Frankie’s fullness inside you, only to quickly be replaced by a gasp as he buried his two fingers back into your cunt.  

“Gotta make sure every last drop stays in there, hermosa. Gonna keep you full of me all night, baby.” He mewled, carefully gathering his spend and pushing it deep inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pulsed his fingers back and forth, pulling away his hand to lean back into your body, engulfing you with an electric kiss. 

“Holy fuck, fuck me. Jesus, Frankie.” You laughed to yourself, your head dipping back on the pillow as you buried your face in your hands, at a loss for words at how euphoric you now felt in your post colital bliss. 

“Wow, again, already? Gotta give me a few after that querida.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his joke as you playfully swatted at him, making him lean in to pepper your body with kisses, leaving you squealing and squirming in delight. 

“You are absolutely ridiculous, Fransisco Morales. If you keep fucking me like that, then yeah, absolutley.” 

“If I keep fucking you like this, I have a very hopeful feeling that next month, we’ll have something else to care about besides period cramps.”

“I swear to god, if one of my cravings ends up being buffalo chicken dip once I’m pregnant, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Taglist:

@bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog @jaciejay13 @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @lola8888673 @persephone-girl @copperhalfcent @innerpersonunknown @messinadresss @devineconjuring @endlessthxxghts @cool-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @messinadress @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @ilovepedro @pascalscoffin @missladym1981 @munson-hargrove-barnes86 @angel98624 @anoverwhelmingdin @pimosworld @nandan11 @iloveenya @survivingandenduring

[burntheedges]

and then they kiss

Frankie Morales x f!reader | 18+ | 14.6k words masterlist | ao3

summary: After 6 months, someone finally moves into the house next door – a very, very hot someone and his adorable little girl. (or, Frankie Morales and his daughter move in to the house next to door (and then into your heart))

a/n: it’s here! This is the fic you all voted on from my followers celebration. Thank you to @undercoverpena for the original prompt in the fic title ask game! And thank you to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always. I hope you all enjoy it. 

tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, Frankie has a daughter (Elena, age 6), neighbors to friends to lovers, food and drink mention, reader has a cat, reader is a middle school teacher, dancing, pet names (baby, hermosa, bebita, cariño, handsome), smut: kissing, cuddling, grinding, fondling, fingering, oral (f!receiving), p-in-v sex (protected by birth control, discussed), brief mention of reader’s chest area but no mention of breasts, reader has no description other than having a vagina and she/her pronouns, no ages mentioned but reader has a fully established teaching career so take that as you will, Frankie speaks Spanish, so does reader, reader can wink (author cannot), no use of y/n

...

It was a hot, sunny Sunday towards the end of summer when someone finally moved into the vacant house next door to yours.

It had been empty for about 6 months, ever since Mr. and Mrs. Park had packed up and moved to Florida to be closer to their grandkids. You knew they’d been having trouble selling it, somehow, even though it was an extremely cute and well-kept two-bedroom with a nice yard.

You were enjoying your slow morning with a cup of coffee and mindless TV when you saw the moving truck back into the driveway next door. Curiosity peaked, you stood and tiptoed closer to your window, peering through your light curtains at the commotion. The men you assumed were the movers hopped out of the cab and started to get ready to unload. At the same time, you noticed another car with out of state plates pull up and park on the road behind the truck. You sank onto your window seat to get a better look, still mostly hidden by your curtains.

At first the only thing you could see was the back of the driver’s head as he stood on the other side of the car, and you lost sight of him again when he ducked into the backseat. When he rounded the front of the car, you realized he had a little girl with him.

You also realized he was the hottest man you’d ever seen. He was tall, with a baseball cap that didn’t disguise the way his dark brown hair curled over his ears. He took off his sunglasses as you watched and hung them on the front of his shirt, drawing your eyes down his neck and along his collarbones. You swallowed roughly. Your eyes traced back up over his handsome face as he smiled down at the girl you assumed was his daughter. He had a scruffy beard and some of the widest shoulders you’d ever seen. 

He walked hand-in-hand with the little girl over the grass and laughed when she launched herself into happy spins, giggling as she fell onto her back. He pulled her up and tossed her in the air, catching her easily and spinning her around. You could hear her happy shrieks through the window, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his smile.

“Shit,” you muttered aloud. “He’s so hot.” Thankfully no one heard you but your cat, Ursula, who was curled up on the window seat below you. She flicked her ear in your direction dismissively and went back to sleep. 

You shook your head. You weren’t expecting such an adorable scene next door when you got up this morning. You weren’t expecting new neighbors at all, you had no idea they’d finally sold the house. You wondered if or when you should introduce yourself. Maybe some time this week? You didn’t want to interrupt what you knew would be a busy day of unloading and unpacking. 

You watched as your new neighbor picked up his daughter before starting to direct the movers, and then forced yourself to move away from the window. If you kept staring you were going to get caught. 

You put the handsome man out of your mind and decided you’d try to introduce yourself soon. If you peeked out of the window a few more times that morning, well… no one seemed to notice. (Not even Ursula.)

…

In the end, you didn’t have to wait long at all. You were scrambling out the door the next morning, keys and travel mug in hand, when your new neighbor’s front door opened, too.

“Vámonos mija,” you heard him call out as he stepped sideways through the door, looking back into the house. You shivered – his voice was deep and you could hear the smile in it.

You blinked and froze next to your car door. He was facing away from you and your eyes caught on his shoulders again – he was wearing a denim collared shirt and it was tight in all the right places. Your eyes traced over his curls at the back of his neck, over his shoulders and down the curve of his back to admire how tight his jeans were.

It was a nice view.

Before you could unfreeze, he turned and his eyes found yours. Because you were staring. You blinked and tried to look less obvious about it.

“Oh! Good morning, neighbor.” He smiled warmly at you and you felt yourself start to smile back. “Headed to work?”

You nodded. “Hi,” you replied, and you felt your cheeks heat. You mentally groaned at yourself. Come on. “Er, yes. Running a little bit late actually.”

He tilted his head at you curiously. “You must work early, it’s barely after 7.”

You nodded again. “I’m a teacher, we’re prepping before the students come back next week.”

His face lit up with a grin as his daughter came barrelling out of the house past his legs. “Oh, so maybe you’ll meet this one soon?” He gestured at her as she noticed you and came to a stop.

“Not quite yet,” you shook your head, still smiling. “I teach at the middle school.”

“Ah,” he nodded and squeezed his daughter’s shoulder reassuringly. “So you’re a saint, then.”

You laughed. It wasn’t the first time someone had said that to you. “Nah, they’re fun. Most of the time.”

You watched as he laughed and felt a warmth start to spread through you – you’d made him laugh.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself.” He started down the steps towards his driveway and his daughter followed along with a curious expression. “I’m Frankie, this is Elena. ‘Lena, this is our new neighbor.” He looked down at her as he gestured at you and you smiled at her as you introduced yourself. 

You heard Frankie repeat your name and you looked back up to find him looking at you again. For a moment neither of you said anything, until Elena tugged on his arm. You felt your heart rate pick up as you startled into motion.

“Well,” you started, gesturing towards your car. “I have to get to work. Do you want to, um.” You bit your lip. “Maybe I could make you two dinner this week? As a welcome to the neighborhood thing?”

Frankie grinned and Elena smiled shyly. “We’d love that.”

All three of you headed off to your cars. You looked over your shoulder right before you got into yours, and found Frankie watching you with one corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. 

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face the whole drive into work.

…

You, Frankie and Elena waved and said hello to each other a few more times during the week, whenever you ran into each other in your driveways. They seemed to be focused on unpacking – as far as you could tell Frankie hadn’t started work quite yet, and you knew school would start the following Monday.

You caught them coming home on Thursday afternoon from what looked like a trip to shop for furniture and succeeded in inviting them over for dinner on Saturday night.

“Elena needed a new, well. A new everything,” he explained when you asked what they’d been up to. He smiled ruefully. “She’d grown out of her bed and I promised she’d get to pick out new things when we got here.”

“What’d she pick?” You looked over at where she was sitting on top of the pile of long cardboard boxes in their driveway and kicking her feet against the cement.

“A matching bed and dresser set – pale wood with flowers painted on it.” He shook his head with a smile. “As soon as I saw it I knew she’d pick it. It’s exactly her style.”

You smiled. “Sounds lovely.”

He nodded. “Now I just have to find time to build it.”

You bit your lip to keep yourself from offering to help, either with the building or with Elena. You thought maybe it was too soon for that, but probably not for dinner.

“Did you two still want to come over for dinner? Maybe on Saturday?”

Frankie grinned at you. “Absolutely. And don’t worry, Elena isn’t too picky.”

You hummed. “What about tacos? So she can build her own?”

“Perfect.” Frankie stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “What time?”

“How about 5? I know she probably eats early.”

He smiled again. “She does. Thank you for thinking of it. 5 is great.”

“Great,” you repeated, smiling at him.

You both stood there, smiling at each other, until Elena appeared suddenly at Frankie’s side. 

“C’mon, dad! I want to build my new bed for tonight!”

He laughed. “Mija, the mattress isn’t here yet. What are you gonna do, sleep in the middle of the frame on the floor?”

She shrugged. “Daddy! Come ooooon,” she dragged out the last word as she pulled his arm, and you laughed.

“Better get to work, Frankie.” He turned back to catch your eye and you noticed he was blushing a little bit. 

“See you on Saturday, neighbor.”

…

On Saturday you spent most of the afternoon scrambling around your house as you cleaned and prepared to host guests. You kept walking through the living room and seeing something else you should tidy up or put away or organize until it was almost 3:30pm and you hadn’t started cooking.

By the time Frankie and Elena rang your doorbell, the food was ready, at least. You had everything set up in a little buffett on your counter and it did look pretty nice, in the end. 

You, on the other hand, looked exactly like you’d just been cooking for an hour and a half. 

“Shit.” You hovered in the hallway for a minute, looking down at your shirt and wishing you’d worn an apron. You heard Elena ask Frankie if she should ring the doorbell again and sighed.

You walked quickly over the door and opened it. “Hi! Come on in.” You stepped back to invite them in and hoped you didn’t actually look like you were utterly covered in food.

Elena smiled a little shyly up at you and said hi back. Frankie smiled and you watched as he took in the evidence that you’d been cooking. 

You winced a little bit. “I’m sorry, I was caught up in the kitchen – come on in and let me go change real quick. You can sit on the couch or explore a little, whatever you’d like.”

Frankie caught your eye. “Hey, no worries. And I think you look nice.”

You scoffed a little as you turned and waved them towards the couch. “I’m literally covered in tacos.” He huffed a laugh. “I’ll be right back.”

You ran upstairs and changed quickly, not wanting them to feel awkward waiting too long in your living room. When you came back down you found Elena looking at Ursula and you could tell she badly wanted to pet her.

“That’s Ursula. You can pet her, she’s very chill.” Elena grinned and brushed one hand lightly over her back. Ursula stretched out on the window seat and started purring so loudly you could hear her from the doorway to the kitchen. “See, she likes you already.” Elena giggled and kept petting her.

You looked over at Frankie, finally, and found him looking at you. “I told her she had to wait for you to come back first.” He smiled. “I thought she might give in, though, Ursula was putting on a pretty cute act over there.”

You grinned. “Yeah, she does that. The ‘no one has ever pet me before in my life’ routine.” He laughed, and you admired how nice it looked when he did.

“Well, you ready for some tacos?” You turned back to Elena and she turned and nodded. 

“We sure are.” Frankie looked at his daughter as he replied and held out his hand for her. “Let’s wash our hands, mija.”

You showed them the kitchen and they both headed for the sink to wash their hands. You were glad you’d taken the time to clear up some of the dishes, even if it had meant you yourself weren’t ready yet when they arrived.

“What would you like to drink? I have water, apple juice, orange juice, and iced tea.” You saw Elena perk up at the offer of juice, and smiled when she asked for apple juice (which Frankie had told you she liked). The three of you put your tacos together (Elena with some help from Frankie) and soon enough found yourselves sitting around your table, ready to eat.

You watched as they dug in and smiled when they both made appreciative noises over the food. Elena started kicking her heels against the legs of her chair, focusing hard on holding her taco just right.

“So how was your first week in town?” You glanced between them, but Frankie answered.

“Alright. I don’t have to start work until after Elena starts school next week, so we had a lot of time to explore and unpack. Find the grocery store, get library cards. School supplies.” He shrugged. “It’s still pretty chaotic inside the house but I think we’ll be ready.” 

You laughed and nodded. “Chaos is normal this time of year, I think. For parents and teachers alike.”

Frankie smiled back at you. “We went to the open house yesterday, at the elementary school. ‘Lena, what was your favorite part?” He nudged her with his elbow and she chewed and swallowed dramatically before answering. From the way Frankie laughed and nodded at her, you assumed chewing before talking was a point of contention between them. 

“I like the playground.” You nodded. The elementary school had just gotten a grant for a new playground a few years ago, and it was pretty impressive. “And my classroom is cool. We have a snake.”

“Oh! So you have Mrs. Li.” 

Elena perked up. “You know my teacher?”

You nodded. “I do. I know most of the teachers, really, but Mrs. Li and I went to college together. She’s great. And Wilbur is a very friendly snake.” You glanced at Frankie and could have sworn you saw him repress a shudder.

Elena looked more excited, then. “She said we’re going to learn all about how to take care of him and everything.” 

“Yep. And you’ll get to visit the other animals, too, in the other classrooms.” Elena looked like she was about to vibrate off the chair with excitement. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool.” You looked back up at Frankie and found him watching you with a soft smile. 

“It seems like a good school.” He raised an eyebrow at you, and you nodded.

“It is. They have a lot of cool programs. They just got a grant for a few new field trips this year, but I’m not sure what the final plan is.”

“They mentioned that. I might have already signed up to chaperone.”

You laughed. “They got you that quick, huh?”

He shrugged with an easy smile. “Hanging out with my daughter all day? I’m not hard to convince. I’d rather do that than work.”

Elena giggled and you smiled, too. “What do you do for work? I don’t think you told me.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think I did. I’ll be teaching at the flight school at the airfield.”

You blinked. The airfield as in the air force base? You didn’t think there was another one nearby. “Oh! Military?”

He looked like he was going to nod, and then didn’t. “Was. Haven’t been active duty for a while. The school is for military and civilians together. They have some college students taking classes, too.” 

You nodded. Sometimes seniors from the high school took the classes, as well. “What will you teach?”

“Daddy flies helicopters!” Elena interjected, and you grinned.

“Oh yeah? That sounds fancy.”

She nodded as her dad handed her a napkin to clean up her hands. “It’s cool. He gets to wear funny headphones. He took me flying before and I got to wear them, too.” 

You laughed. “Very cool.” You raised your eyebrows at Frankie and he smiled, a bit sheepish.

“Yeah, mostly helicopters and small planes, for these classes. I can fly other things, too, just won’t be teaching that right now.” He shrugged. “I’d rather fly them myself, but the rest of the job that goes along with that isn’t worth it.” He glanced over at Elena and you thought you understood. He wanted to be around more for her. 

“Definitely sounds cooler than my job.” 

Frankie shook his head. “Nah. I don’t think I could teach middle schoolers much of anything.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “Well, I don’t think I could fly a helicopter.”

He huffed a laugh and nodded, ceding the point. 

“Can I go pet Ursula again?” Elena had one foot on the ground, half out of her chair already. Frankie nodded.

“Wash your hands first, please?” You asked, and she headed for the sink. “Cats can’t eat everything that was in these tacos, so just in case.” Elena nodded, looking serious. You smiled and watched her bound into the living room to find the cat again.

You turned back to Frankie and found him looking back at you. Again. “She’s pretty adorable.”

He grinned and blushed a little bit. It was extremely cute. “Doesn’t get it from me.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “Pretty sure you have the exact same smile, Frankie.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Ok, I have heard that before. But she’s a lot like her mom.”

You nodded and hesitated, wondering how to ask. He must have noticed because he continued, “it’s ok. We do have shared custody, but I’ve got primary. Her mom got a great job offer that includes a lot of travel, and we agreed she should take it. Whenever she’s home she’ll get a place here in town and see Elena as much as she can, before she has to leave again.” He shrugged. “It was the offer of a lifetime, basically, and they talk pretty much every day. It’s working ok. We figured it won’t be like this forever, but her mom and I get along pretty well, these days. We’ll be able to figure it out again once she’s less mobile.”

This was such a refreshing outlook to hear from a parent that at first all you could do was blink. “That sounds like a really good co-parenting setup.” You realized you’d put on your teacher hat, just a little bit, and smiled ruefully. “I meet a lot of parents.” 

He nodded. “I figured. You must hear some interesting things.”

You leaned forward and rested your chin on your hand as you considered how to respond. “I mean, sure. We all do, really, but the schools here have a lot of support for families built into the programming. I like working here and I like the people in town.”

He leaned forward on his elbows, too, and you realized you were suddenly much closer to him. You tried to look cool even as you felt a shiver run across your shoulders. 

“That’s really good to hear, actually. I knew the schools had a good reputation, but she’ll be in first grade. It’s all new to both of us.”

You smiled and reached out to squeeze his forearm without thinking. “Her school is great, and so is Mrs. Li. She’ll be in great hands.” 

Frankie covered your hand with his free one and squeezed your hand in response. You sucked in a breath and hoped it wasn’t noticeable. “Thank you.”

You weren’t sure what to do next – he was basically holding your hand – but thankfully, you didn’t have to figure it out. Elena came skipping back into the kitchen and you sat back in your chair, missing his hand even as it slid away from yours.

“Daddy, can we get a cat? Ursula is so nice.”

Frankie shot you a look and you grinned at him. “Mija, we talked about that. We have to settle in and figure out our schedule before we can get any kind of pet.”

She slumped, looking extremely put out, and you tried not to let it show how cute it was. “Ok.” She sounded utterly dejected.

You glanced between her and Frankie, hoping you weren’t overstepping. “You know, you can come over here and hang out with Ursula any time I’m home. As long as your dad says it’s ok.”

Elena perked up, eyes sparkling with excitement. She looked at her dad and clasped her hands together. “Daddy, please?”

Frankie was looking at you again. “You don’t have to–”

“It’s ok, really.” You cut him off. “I’m usually home by 4:30. So if she wants to come say hi to Ursula, that’s fine with both of us.” You gestured to the cat who had just trotted into the kitchen and was winding herself in little figure-8s around Elena’s legs. 

Frankie sighed. “Ok, mija. You can come visit Ursula, but only when we both say it’s ok.” She cheered and sat on the kitchen floor to let Ursula climb into her lap.

You laughed. “It really is ok. My car will be here if I’m home, so you’ll know.” You looked down at Elena. “Sometimes I might be going out to dinner or something, but I’ll just tell you. You can still say hi to Ursula.”

You looked back up at Frankie and saw he looked a little thoughtful. “Are you, um.” He cut himself off and hesitated. “Going to dinner with anyone?” He immediately looked like he regretted asking. You smiled and tried not to get your hopes up about the reason he did.

You shrugged. “Just with friends, sometimes. My best friend is a lawyer and we try to see each other a couple of times a month, at least. And I have a book club.” You watched as Frankie started to smile again. “That’s about it, really.”

“No other hobbies?” He tilted his head.

“I go to the farmer’s market on Saturdays,” you offered. “Oh! Do you two want to come next week?”

Elena looked up but Frankie was shaking his head. “I have work next Saturday, but maybe the one after?” 

You nodded. “Sure.”

“I won’t usually be working on Saturdays, it’s just part of the whole first week thing.”

Ursula got up and trotted back towards the living room and Elena followed. When she was out of earshot, Frankie murmured, “you don’t have to let her come over whenever, you know.”

You smiled at him. “I meant it, Frankie, it’s fine. I’ll just tell her if she can’t for some reason.” You paused, and realized maybe he was the one who wasn’t comfortable with it. “That is, if it’s ok with you. I know we just met–”

He shook his head and interrupted you. “No, it’s ok. I’ll be home by then most of the time anyway. I just didn’t want her to intrude. And maybe it’ll help me put off getting a pet a bit longer.” He grinned.

“Well, don’t worry about it. She’s welcome. You both are.” You felt your cheeks heat and you suddenly felt flustered. You stood and started to gather dishes, but Frankie waved you back down and took them from you. 

“Let me do that.” He started to pile dishes in the sink. “You cooked, so it’s only fair.”

“Thank you.” You admired the way his shoulders moved in his flannel shirt as he moved around the kitchen. 

He shrugged. “Thank you for dinner. I think I can speak for both of us when I say we had fun.”

“I’m glad.” You smiled. “Hopefully it was a good welcome to the neighborhood.”

Frankie nodded and turned to look back at you. “It was. Thank you.” He turned back to the sink and started washing your dishes, so you got up and moved to stand next to him so you could dry. “Not sure we could have asked for a better neighbor.” 

You ducked your head when you felt your cheeks heat again and picked up a hand towel. You decided to change the subject. “So, what kind of pet does Elena want?”

He groaned, and you laughed. “After meeting Wilbur she started saying she wants a snake but that is not going to happen.” He shuddered. “Not a chance.”

“Frankie,” you started, turning towards him and leaning your hip against your counter. “Are you afraid of snakes?”

He glanced at you. “No.” You raised your eyebrows. “Ok, maybe. Look, they’re fine if they’re outside. I don’t want one in my house.” 

You laughed again. “Fair.”

He shook his head. “I think we’ll go with a cat. But I want to wait a little while, first.”

“Makes sense.”

You fell into an easy silence as you finished up the dishes. You weren’t sure what to say next – you realized, then, how much you liked Frankie and Elena. You would never have expected something like this to happen when you got new neighbors. You could feel the beginnings of a crush stirring inside of you but you tamped it down. 

You needed to get to know him first. You needed to let it happen and not get ahead of yourself.

Frankie cleared his throat, suddenly, and you turned to meet his eyes again. He opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted as Elena came barrelling back into the kitchen.

“Dad, Ursula is so cute. I think I want a cat just like her.” She wrapped her arms around his leg and he grinned so wide his eyes crinkled. Cute.

“Just like her, huh?” He dried his hands quickly and reached down to tousle her hair. She squealed in protest. Frankie glanced up at you and then past you, eyes widening.

“Oh! It’s getting late.” You turned back to check and saw that it was already 7. “Almost someone’s bed time.” Elena moaned and started hanging off his arm. You grinned, enjoying that she’d relaxed enough in your presence to act so normally around you. “Come on, mija. Say thank you for dinner.”

Elena turned towards you, suddenly shy again. “Thank you for dinner. It was really good. And I loved meeting Ursula.”

You smiled. “You’re welcome, Elena. Thank you for coming over.”

Frankie sent her towards the door to say goodbye to the cat and turned towards you again. “Really, thank you. Can we repay the favor? Have you over for dinner, maybe next week? Give us a little more time to get everything organized over there. It’s a mess right now.”

You were nodding before he finished talking. “I’d love that, Frankie. Just let me know when.”

He smiled and reached out to squeeze your arm. “Perfect. Wait, let me give you my number.”

After exchanging numbers you held the door for the two of them and watched them cross your yard towards theirs. You could hear Elena telling Frankie all about how cute and cuddly Ursula was, and all the funny things she did with the toys she’d found. You smiled.

Just before they went inside, Frankie turned back to you and waved. When he smiled you felt something warm start to burn inside you. Maybe this is actually going somewhere good.

…

Over the next week, you ran into Frankie and Elena almost every day, if only for a few minutes at a time. You rarely saw them in the mornings – you left for school much earlier than they did – but often in the afternoons. Elena came by to say hello to Ursula on Wednesday, and you were surprised she’d managed to wait so long. (That is, until Frankie told you he’d said no on Monday and Tuesday to give you a break after the first two days of school, which was so thoughtful you were momentarily speechless.)

On Friday you had plans to meet up with your best friend, and you were in the middle of getting ready when there was a knock on your door. You weren’t surprised to find Frankie and Elena on the other side. 

“Hi,” Elena grinned up at you. “Can I play with Ursula?” She jumped up and down on her toes with her hands clasped together, and you couldn’t help but grin back. 

“Of course,” you said, as you stepped out of the way so she could dart past you into the living room. You looked up to meet Frankie’s eyes and found him looking at your outfit, which was fancier than anything he’d seen you in so far.

“You look nice,” he said, voice sounding a bit rough. When he met your eyes again you noticed there was a bit of color in his cheeks.

You smiled. “Thank you. I’m meeting my best friend for dinner soon.”

Frankie hesitated as he stepped inside. “We can get out of your hair–”

You waved him off. “No, it’s fine. I’m not leaving for another half an hour. She can hang out with Ursula until then. I mean, if that works for you.”

He nodded, and hesitated again. “Would you–” He cleared his throat. “Would it be ok if I came back in about 15 minutes? I was in the middle of cooking dinner when she just ‘had to see Ursula, please daddy, it’s Friday’.” You laughed at his imitation of his daughter. “Everything’s fine over there but I can finish up and come back and get her.” 

You were already nodding. “Of course. I’ll finish getting ready but it’s just down the hall, I’ll keep the door open and let her know.”

Frankie stepped in past you to let Elena know he’d be back, and you turned to find her sitting cross-legged on the floor with Ursula flopped upside down over her lap. You laughed. “I think we’ll be fine. I’ll be just down the hall, ok?” Elena nodded without looking up from Ursula, who was purring so loudly you could hear her from where you were standing. “Come get me if you need anything, or honestly I’ll hear you fine if you just talk to me from here.”

After Frankie left you returned to the bathroom with the door open so you could finish getting ready while listening to Elena and Ursula. You smiled at the cute noises she was making as you messed with your hair. 

As you were finishing up you felt Ursula rub against your legs and noticed a little face peer around the edge of the door in the mirror.

“Hey, what’s up?’ you asked, meeting Elena’s eyes in the mirror. She stepped inside and looked around your bathroom.

“Are you going on a date?” She swung her arms a little when she asked and then bent down to pet Ursula again.

You shook your head when she looked back up at you. “No, just going to meet my best friend for dinner. She and I usually go to dinner after the first week of school so we can catch up.”

Elena nodded. “What’s your best friend’s name?”

You smiled. “Leticia, but I call her Leti.”

Her eyes lit up. “That’s my cousin’s name! Does she know Spanish, too?”

“She does,” you nodded and grinned. “I know some, too.”

Elena grinned. “We speak Spanish a lot! Me and daddy. But my mommy only knows English.”

“Cool. Leti helps me practice so I don’t forget.” 

Elena nodded and smiled when Ursula rubbed against her leg again. “She sounds cool. I don’t have a best friend here yet.”

You were finished getting ready, so you gestured towards the living room and Elena got up to lead the way out. “Well, you just met everyone this week. I bet you’ll get to be friends soon.”

She shrugged and did a little spin before flopping onto your couch next to Ursula. “One of the boys in class tried to get Wilbur out of his cage without Mrs. Li seeing.” 

You snorted. “How did that go?”

Elena rolled her eyes. It was extremely cute. “She turned around when he had his hand inside the cage and he got in trouble.”

You nodded. “Sounds about right. Did you have a favorite thing this week? Like a class or something you did?”

She screwed up her face in a thoughtful expression that made you smile. “I like our classroom. Mrs. Li said she made all of the stuff on the walls. It’s really pretty.” She thought for a moment and you waited. “I like music class. And the library.”

“Going to the library was always my favorite, too.”

You were interrupted from finding out anything else about her first week at school by a knock on your door. 

“Sounds like your dad is back.” You stood and glanced through the window. Frankie was indeed standing outside your front door.

You opened it and smiled. “Welcome back.” You stepped aside to let him in but he didn’t immediately move. 

“You look–” he cleared his throat and tugged off his hat with one hand, running his fingers through his hair with the other before putting it back on. “You look nice.” 

You bit your lip and couldn’t help but tease him a bit. “You said that before.”

His cheeks turned pink and you smiled. “Well,” he said, smiling ruefully, “it’s still true.”

For a moment the two of you smiled at each other until Frankie cleared his throat again. “So I was going to see if you wanted to come over to have dinner with us, but I know you’re busy. What about tomorrow?” He raised his eyebrows hopefully as he stepped past you into your house.

“Tomorrow sounds great, Frankie.” 

Before he could answer Elena came running around the corner and threw herself at his legs. He made a dramatic oomph noise on impact before lifting her and throwing her over his shoulder. Elena squealed, delighted, and you smiled as he turned to face you again. 

“How about 5:30?” You nodded, and he winked at you as he started to carry his daughter out the door. “Anyone seen Elena? All I could find was this gremlin.” He tickled her behind her knees with one hand (while keeping a firm hold with the other) and she giggled. As he passed you she turned her head sideways and waved at you, upside down.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the picture they made crossing your lawn. “See you tomorrow!” you called, already looking forward to it.

…

You and Frankie traded dinners a few times over the next month. You went to theirs for dinner that Saturday, and then Frankie and Elena joined you at yours a few days later. And then again the next week. Elena appeared to be thriving at school, if her stories were any clue, and you were enjoying watching her settle in. Frankie seemed to be enjoying his new job as well, or so he told you when you asked about it. 

On a Thursday evening about six weeks after they moved in, a knock at the door told you Frankie and Elena had probably arrived. You’d been working on dinner and expecting the two of them to arrive soon. 

The knock was a bit sharper than usual, though, and you answered the door with a furrowed brow. When you saw Frankie’s face you grew more concerned. He looked worried, face drawn, hands twisting together.

“Frankie, what is it? Is everything ok?” You skipped over a greeting and stepped closer, reaching up to squeeze his bicep gently, hoping to offer some reassurance.

He smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. “I’m sorry to do this, I just got a call. I have to head back in to work. Some kind of emergency with one of the planes coming in.”

You shook your head and squeezed his arm again. “That’s ok, Frankie, it’s fine. We can reschedule.”

A little bit of the tension went out of his shoulders, but not all of it. 

“Well–” he cleared his throat and glanced down before meeting your eyes again. “I was wondering if Elena could come over here, until I get back?” You started nodding, but he kept talking. “I thought the two of you could still eat, at least, and you know she’ll love seeing her best buddy.” He gestured with his chin towards Ursula and you smiled. 

“Of course she can. And I’ll save you some food.”

This time his relief was almost palpable.

“Thank you, you have no idea–” he shook his head. “Thank you. I’ll be back in a few minutes with her and her things.”

Before you could say anything else, he jogged back towards his house. You tidied up around the kitchen and the living room in preparation for hosting Elena, and soon enough they were back.

“Hi!’ She chirped, crossing your threshold and walking straight up to Ursula. You smiled and looked back to find Frankie already looking at you.

“I should be back in a couple of hours. I’ll text you if anything changes.” 

You nodded. “That’s fine, Frankie. Don’t rush.”

You felt more than saw him step forward and press a soft, quick kiss to your cheek. “See you soon.”

He was gone before you could react. As you watched him walk away you felt the heat flood your cheeks and you turned quickly to close the door. You leaned back against it and pressed the backs of your hands to your cheeks, taking a deep breath. 

Elena popped her head around the corner and frowned at you. “What are you doing?”

You smiled and dropped your hands. “Nothing. Are you hungry?”

She nodded. “Why were you holding your face?”

You tripped in surprise but caught yourself on the door to the kitchen. “What?”

“You were holding your face like this.” She put her hands on her cheeks like you had and you smiled. “And you’re sweaty. Like daddy after he lifts something heavy.” Her tone was very matter of fact and you couldn’t help but grin.

You snorted. “Oh yeah?”

She nodded as she slid into a chair at your table. “Yep. But you didn’t pick anything up.”

You shook your head as you started to put together plates of food for both of you. “No, it just got pretty warm in here when I was cooking.”

Elena regarded you skeptically and didn’t seem convinced, but she thankfully let the subject drop.

After dinner you agreed to watch a movie – Moana, one of her favorites – and you got her to giggle and laugh so hard she got the hiccups at your impression of Hei Hei. By the time Frankie returned (just a little bit later than he’d hoped), she was asleep on the couch next to you.

His knock was so soft you almost missed it, but you managed to get over to the door and open it without waking her up.

“Hi Frankie,” you greeted him with a smile, “she’s asleep.”

He looked tired but very happy to be home. “I figured.” He sighed. “Thanks again, he–, um, thank you.” 

You shrugged. “Anytime. We had fun. Got to watch Moana again.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes. “I think I see that movie playing on the back of my eyelids when I’m sleeping.” 

You laughed, and then glanced back at Elena to make sure you hadn’t woken her up. “She liked my impressions.”

He raised one eyebrow at you. “Oh? Watch out, she’ll demand them every time, now that she knows.”

You smiled. “I’m used to it. Little cousins.” 

Frankie nodded and stepped past you when you moved out of the way to let him in. He walked over to Elena and you remembered the food you’d set aside for him. You ran to get it and met him back at the front door, Elena in his arms. 

“I saved you some dinner.” You held out the bag with tupperware and smiled. “Just have to heat it up again.”

Frankie blinked, and then smiled softly. “You didn’t have to–”

You shook your head. “It was supposed to be for you, anyway. Take it.”

He nodded and you looped the bag over the hand supporting Elena’s knees. “We’ll see you soon?” He murmured the question so as not to wake her.

You nodded and leaned against your door as he started to walk away. “You know where to find me.”

He turned to look at you over his shoulder and your breath caught at the look in his eyes. “Sure do. Good night.”

…

Over the next few weeks you watched Elena two more times but didn’t have another dinner together until Frankie, in his words, managed to pin you down for a Sunday evening. It was true that you’d been busier, but there’d been a lot of events at school that you had to be at as fall settled in.

You headed over to their house with a plate of cookies and a smile on your face. You knew you’d started to like Frankie, maybe too much, but you couldn’t help it – he was so charming, and sweet with his daughter, and capable. He’d fixed a broken faucet in your bathroom last week and you’d tried not to let it show on your face how impressed you were by the whole thing (and not a little bit turned on).

But whatever you were feeling, you were trying not to rush into it. You liked having them as neighbors, and you knew he’d want Elena to be comfortable more than anything else. And you thought he might like you, too, but neither of you had made anything resembling a move.

You knocked and the door flew open almost before you moved your hand away. Elena opened it with such force she swung with it.

“Hi!” her eyes zeroed in on the cookies in your hand and then grew. “Cookies?!” She sounded delighted and you laughed.

“Cookies!” you confirmed, and she cheered. “But dinner first, right?”

She sighed and nodded. She led the way back to the kitchen where you found Frankie at the stove wearing a bright yellow apron with daisies printed on it. You blinked.

“Is that new?” you asked, starting to grin.

Frankie rolled his eyes at you. “It was a gift, thank you.”

Elena smiled up at you and you figured you knew who the gift was from. “It looks very nice,” you told her, and she preened.

“Yellow is daddy’s favorite color.” She scooted onto one of the kitchen chairs and you joined her. “That’s why I picked that one.”

“Well it looks great on you, Frankie.” You winked at him when he turned to give you a long suffering look. 

He laughed and turned back to the stove. “Sure, he– sure. You ready to eat?”

You and Elena both said “yes!” with such enthusiasm that all three of you laughed.

After dinner, Frankie prevented you from washing dishes (not yet, let’s hang out with Elena before she goes to sleep) so you found yourself on the couch with her while Frankie sat in the chair nearby. She was telling you about her new favorite movie, one you hadn’t seen yet.

“--and my favorite part is the end when they dance, her dress is sparkly and the sky is purple and they look so pretty. Daddy and I danced along but it wasn’t the same because I’m so short.” She looked put out for a moment and then perked up suddenly. “Hey you and daddy are tall! You should do it!”

You glanced at Frankie, not sure what she was asking, and blinked at how you found him, startled. He was frozen in his seat and bright red.

“What do you mean?” you asked her, tearing your eyes away from her dad. 

“Look! I’ll play it and then you can do the dance right there behind the couch.” She gestured at the open area behind the couch that led into the entryway. She squinted at the TV as she fast forwarded through the movie. You could tell she’d done this many times before.

“Ok, here, look.” You watched the scene with her and had to agree that it was cute. You couldn’t help but notice that Frankie hadn’t said anything yet – he seemed to have relaxed a bit, at least. “See? I’ll play the song and you two dance and I’ll tell you what to do.”

“Frankie?” you asked, looking at him again. 

He finally met your eye and smiled. “Come on, then. You know she won’t rest until we act it out.” You laughed in response and took his hand when he offered it.

Like a tiny drill sergeant, Elena arranged the two of you into the same stance as the couple on screen. You were so close you could smell him – something warm and woodsy that made you want to lean in and rest your forehead on his shoulder. You felt Frankie’s hand, large and warm against your hip, and bit your lip. “Ok remember – you have to spin! Daddy, just like we practiced.”

“Am I going to be able to do this?” you asked him under your breath. 

He smiled and nodded. “When we’ve been practicing,” he said the word like it was in quotes, “we’ve just been spinning in place with a little bit of flair.” 

You laughed. Ok, that didn’t sound so bad.

And Frankie was right – when the music started he led you in a small, easy circle, turning you and adding in some side-to-side movement that looked more like the movie. Elena cheered, so you figured you must be doing something right. 

“Now spin, daddy!” 

Frankie grinned and released you into a slow spin. He tugged you back in and you found yourself closer in his arms than before. You could feel the heat of his body along your front and your breath caught as your eyes met again. You felt something warm starting to build inside of you and when Elena whooped behind you, you both smiled.

The music swelled, and you figured the song was coming to an end. But you couldn’t look away from Frankie, and the look in his eyes turned into something warm, something more intent. Something that made the moment around you feel slow and syrupy. You felt a shiver move up your spine and wondered if he could feel it, with you wrapped in his arms like this. 

The music hit the crescendo and you felt breathless as Frankie spun the both of you around one more time. You stumbled as you came to a stop and he tugged you closer to keep you upright. You found yourself with your chest almost brushing his and your faces only inches away from each other. You could lean in, if you wanted, and brush your lips right–

You jumped a little as Elena’s voice came suddenly from your left, excited with her final stage direction.

“And then they kiss!” she shouted.

Before you could react in any way, before you could do anything other than process her words, you felt Frankie’s lips press gently against the corner of your mouth. 

Both of you froze as Elena cheered louder than you’d ever heard her. As she started proclaiming how well you did, and how it was just like the movie, Frankie leaned slowly back to meet your gaze. He looked worried, studying your reaction, eyes sweeping over your face. 

But his worry didn’t last long. You had no idea what expression you were wearing but whatever it was seemed to reassure him. A slow smile spread across his face at the same time as an answering one took over yours.

Grinning, Frankie tensed the hand he had around your waist and leaned just a tiny bit closer. You sucked in a quick breath and he smirked when he felt it. He opened his mouth to say something and your eyes dropped, not wanting to miss it.

“That was amazing!” Elena cried, suddenly wrapping her arms around both of you. “Can we do it again?”

Frankie laughed and released you. You stepped back, a little bit dazed. “No, mija, you know what time it is.”

“Awww, daddy!” She pouted a little and you tried not to smile. 

“‘Lena, we can dance another time. Come on, say goodnight.” He rubbed her back a bit in consolation and she sighed. 

“Next time,” you promised. She smiled a little and nodded. 

“Good night!” Elena waved and headed upstairs. 

Frankie turned to you and you felt his fingers catch against your own. “I’ll be right back, hermosa.” His voice was deeper than usual and you shivered again. This time you knew he saw it when his eyes darkened. “Don’t go anywhere.”

You shook your head. “I’ll be right here, Frankie.”

He hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged when he heard Elena calling for him. “10 minutes, max.” 

As he reached the top of the stairs, you thought you heard Elean say, “Daddy, it work–” but he cut her off with a shushing sound. You shook your head and headed into the kitchen to do the dishes while you waited.

You let yourself sink into the memory of Frankie’s arms around you and couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you cleaned up the kitchen. It seemed like the two of you were on the same page, after all. As you washed the dishes, you replayed the feeling of his hand on your waist, his hand in yours, his guidance through the dance. His arm slipping around you to catch you, and the brief press of his lips against the edge of yours.

You were so caught up in the moment you didn’t hear him come back.

You startled and almost flung the sponge in the air when two large, now familiar hands came to rest on your hips. You felt Frankie lean into you and the brush of his mustache as he murmured in your ear, “you didn’t have to clean up, hermosa.” He nuzzled his nose against your neck and you sighed, letting your head fall to the side to give him more room.

“You knew I would.” You felt his smile against your neck and you shivered again. His smile grew wider.

“Dance with me again, hermosa.” He squeezed your hips and you sucked in a sharp breath. 

“Frankie–”

“Please?” He pressed a soft kiss to the skin behind your ear. “Dance with me. Without the peanut gallery, this time.” 

You laughed and nodded, quickly rinsing your hands so you could turn in his arms. When you did he was close, so close, close enough to kiss again.

“Hi,” you whispered, breathless. 

“Hi,” he murmured, smiling.

“I’d love to dance with you, Frankie.” You lifted your hands and rested them gently on his chest.

He swayed forward but stepped back, taking your hands in his. “C’mere, then.”

Frankie walked backward and led you into the open space behind the couch again. He quickly queued up a song on his phone and set it on the low table next to the couch. Soft, slow music started to play as he pulled you back into his arms. Much, much closer this time.

You found yourself with your arms around his neck and his around your waist. His eyes were dark and intent and you could almost read the desire in them.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” he admitted, smoothing a hand up your back.

“Dance?” you teased, smiling.

“Well,” he said, smirking, “I do like dancing with you.” He spun the two of you a bit and you gasped. “But I meant, well. I’ve been wanting to tell you. To ask you out.”

You bit your lip and started playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. “Yeah?”

He nodded and his eyes dropped to your mouth. “What do you think? Can I take you out, hermosa?”

You smiled, wide. “Yes, Frankie.” You hesitated, and you watched his brow furrow in response. “Is, um, what about Elena? Is this ok?”

Frankie smiled softly at you. “Hermosa, this?” He moved one of his hands to squeeze your hip and tugged you closer. “This was all her master plan.”

Your jaw dropped. “What? What do you mean?”

He looked a bit sheepish and his cheeks turned pink. “Well, she knew I liked you. She’s been teasing me about it – apparently I look at you like one of the characters in her movies. And I talk about you a lot.” You laughed, charmed. “So she said I had to do something romantic. The dance was her idea, we’ve been practicing. I didn’t mean to kiss you, though. I mean, I wanted to kiss you. I–” he cleared his throat, suddenly much pinker. You smiled at him encouragingly. “We’ve been practicing with a kiss on the cheek. I just, it was habit, but then I wasn’t sure what you’d think, or if that was ok–”

“It was more than ok, Frankie.” you interrupted, and he smiled, relieved. You ran your thumb up and down the back of his neck and grinned when he shivered. “I can’t believe Elena was the mastermind of this whole thing.”

“She likes you,” he said with another soft smile. You were starting to get attached to the way he smiled at you. “So yeah. To answer your question, it’s ok with Elena.”

You bit your lip on a smirk and said, aiming for an innocent tone, “you know, maybe we should practice again. Make sure we get it right for next time.”

He tilted his head. “What, the dance?”

You shook your head and let yourself grin at him again. “No, not the whole thing. I was thinking we could just practice the ending again.”

Frankie grinned at you and pulled you closer in his arms until you were pressed against him. The warmth of his body made your breath catch in your throat. “Hermosa, I would love to practice with you.”

You tangled your hands in his hair and leaned in, but Frankie met you halfway. This time when his lips met yours you were right there with him.

As he moved his mouth gently against yours, you felt yourself sinking into the steady warmth of Frankie, sinking deep into his embrace. He hummed against your mouth and you opened for him, deepening the kiss. The gentle touch of his tongue against your own drew a soft whine from the back of your throat. Frankie’s grasp on your hips tightened and you were suddenly aware of the press of his hips against your own.

You didn’t know when or how he moved but you felt the back of the couch suddenly against your thighs and propped yourself up on it so that he could step between your legs.

Frankie groaned when his hips came to rest against yours. You felt his cock, warm and huge in his jeans, and let out a moan of your own.

“Shit,” he murmured, pulling away and dropping his forehead against your shoulder. “We can’t, hermosa, not with Elena upstairs.”

You nodded. He was right. “Ok, let me–” you took a deep breath, “why don’t we sit on the couch? Less kissing, more talking?”

He laughed and agreed. Once you were on the couch, though, he tugged you close so that you sat with your legs across his lap and his arm around your waist.

“When can I take you out, hermosa?” he ran his fingers up and down your calves over your clothes and you sank into his embrace again. 

“How’s Friday?” 

He nodded. “Perfect. Elena’s mom will be here, she’ll have her the whole weekend.”

“Oh!” You sat a little straighter. “Is this the first time she’ll be in town?”

“Yep,” he confirmed. “Elena’s over the moon with excitement.”

You laughed. “I bet. That’s great.”

He smiled at you. “So, 7 on Friday, hermosa?”

You nodded, but decided to finally ask about the pet name. “You’ve been calling me that since you kissed me.”

Frankie looked a bit sheepish again. It was charming. “Well, I’ve been wanting to call you that for a while. Almost did a few times, not just recently. Feels like I’m finally allowed. You are beautiful, you know. So fucking beautiful.” He leaned forward to kiss you, gently. “Almost said it that night you were going out with Leti. Way too soon.”

It was your turn to look sheepish. “When I saw you through the window when you were moving in I said ‘shit, he’s so hot’ out loud. To myself. And Ursula, I guess.”

Frankie laughed, a bit incredulous. “You think I’m hot?”

You furrowed your brow at him. “Frankie. You are hot. So fucking hot.”

He turned pink again, and you smiled and pressed a kiss to his warm cheek. As you pulled back he turned and caught you in another kiss. You felt yourself getting carried away again and leaned back.

“I should go home. Have to get up early tomorrow.” 

He sighed and nodded with a wistful smile. “I know. Let me walk you out.”

At the door, Frankie leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips one more time and then pressed his forehead against yours. “Can’t wait for our date, hermosa.” 

“Me neither.” You slipped your arms around him in a tight hug. “Tell Elena she did a good job with the plan.” He laughed and you grinned. You said good night, and when you reached your front door and looked back, you found Frankie leaning against his own front door watching you. He smiled and waved and you stepped inside with the grin still on your face.

…

You ran into Frankie and Elena a few times during the week, but you were all busy and there wasn’t a lot of time to talk (or visit Ursula). You were thankful for your upcoming date and the guaranteed time you’d have with Frankie all to yourself.

He knocked on your door at 7pm sharp on Friday evening. You were scrambling on the other side of it to put on your shoes and grab your bag. When you found yourself hopping in place you paused, took a deep breath, and put your shoes on as calmly as you could. 

By the time you opened the front door he’d been waiting for a few minutes and had his hand raised to knock again. 

“Hi, sorry, I was just putting my shoes on.” You released the whole sentence in one breath and then smiled, sheepishly.

Frankie was frozen with his hand raised. He blinked and dropped it and smiled back at you. You swore you felt his eyes as he swept them over your outfit. “Hi there. You look gorgeous.”

You felt your cheeks heat and bit your lip. His outfit finally registered and you noticed he was wearing dark jeans, a dark red button up, and no hat. His curls were tousled and your fingers twitched with the desire to touch. “I like your outfit, Frankie.”

“Yeah?” He tugged at one of his cuffs. “Elena helped me pick it out.”

You grinned. “She has good taste, then. You look handsome.” You stepped outside and turned to lock the door. When you turned back towards Frankie, he hadn’t moved far and was only a few inches away. You leaned in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. 

He smiled and you felt his hand slide over your lower back. “Ready to go, hermosa?”

“Lead the way.”

Frankie guided you to his car and opened the door for you. Soon enough you were on your way, turned slightly in the passenger seat to watch him drive. It was a nice view.

“So, where to?”

He glanced over at you and when he found you looking, he turned a little bit pink. “One of my coworkers told me about this little Indonesian place across town, next to the river. Have you been?”

You sat up straighter, excited. “No! It’s new. I’ve been meaning to go.”

He grinned. “No? Good. Well, then we can try it together.”

You leaned back into your seat and smiled as Frankie started to tell you about his week at work. It sounded like his classes were going well. He’d told you back when you met that he was worried about teaching, and had even asked for some tips. But it sounded like he was doing a pretty good job. (And you knew he’d been reading about teaching when he could.)

The conversation carried you through the ride and into the restaurant, which was small with cozy tables and warm lighting. When Frankie gave his name the host led you to a small table in the back corner that had a “reserved” sign on it.

“This place is cute,” you observed. Frankie nodded, smiling. 

After you both took a minute to look at the menu and order, Frankie reached across the table to tangle your fingers together lightly. “I’m glad you said yes to this date, hermosa.”

“Me too, Frankie.” You squeezed his fingers and he smiled.

“I wanted to ask for a while. Almost from the beginning. That first night you had us for dinner I almost blurted it out, but Elena interrupted.”

You smiled, slow, and he watched. “I would have said yes.”

He blinked. “Even then? I figured I’d have to show you I wasn’t a total mess, first.”

You tilted your head and frowned a bit. “Frankie, I’ve never thought you were a mess. You’re… well. I think you’re great.” You bit your lip and watched as his expression turned soft.

“Yeah?” 

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, I think you’re amazing. You’re so smart, and funny, and you’re amazing with Elena. She’s been saying she wants to be a teacher when she grows up, you know.”

You raised your eyebrows, surprised. “Really?” He nodded. “Didn’t she say she wants to be a pilot, like, last week?”

Frankie laughed, and you grinned. “She did. But that’s just her backup career. It’s the one she says when she isn’t sure, I think.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe she really does want to.”

He shrugged. “Could be. She can do whatever she wants. I’m not pushing anything.”

You smiled at him again. The arrival of your food interrupted and for a moment you sat in comfortable silence, other than commenting on how delicious it was.

“How’s Elena doing with operation BFF?” You and Frankie had started calling it that when you told him about your conversation about best friends, and after seeing Elena’s clear focus on finding one. It was very cute.

Frankie laughed. “Well, she’s been hanging out more with Anil and Min. Apparently the three of them have the same favorite movie, so that’s been important somehow.” You smiled. “But my money is still on Mateo. They are both way too into having a ‘secret language.’ Even if they’re not the only ones in the room who speak Spanish. I watched them on the field trip the other week, just constantly whispering to each other.”

You nodded. “I can see that. It’s probably also comforting to be able to switch if she wants to.”

He smiled and shook his head. “But she also told me they’ve been teaching some of the others during recess. So maybe a not-so-secret language.” 

You smiled at the mental image of Elena teaching some of the other kids in her class on the playground. “That’s pretty adorable. She would think of something like that, I can totally see it.”

Frankie grinned down at his plate. “She surprises me every day. I have no idea where she gets it from.”

You rested your chin in your hand as you gazed at him across the table. “Frankie, she gets it from you.” You tried not to let your tone say “duh” but it was difficult.

His head lifted quickly and he met your eyes, clearly surprised. “Gets what?”

You smiled and reached across the table with your free hand to tangle your fingers together again. “That kindness, that makes her want to teach her friends her secret language. The initiative and drive to do something like that herself. Her curiosity and joy in new experiences that make operation BFF something exciting instead of something stressful. She gets all of those things from you. I can see all of them in the way you are with her and your students and everything else.” You squeezed his fingers and watched as his blush bloomed from his cheeks down his neck. 

Frankie ducked his head, but after a moment he peeked up again to meet your gaze. “You really think so?” His tone was tentative, and you felt something clench around your heart at this man who was so wonderful but seemed to have no idea. 

“I do, Frankie. I really do.”

He lifted his free hand to trail his fingers down the side of your face and then your arm, which was still propping up your chin. “I’ll try to believe you.” You smiled, and his answering smile made something warm start to burn inside you. “I don’t know what I did to get so lucky as to move next door to you, hermosa.”

You felt your own cheeks heat and bit your lip. Whatever response you might have made was interrupted by the server returning to clear your table. You leaned back from each other and let Frankie grab the check (while extracting a promise that you could pay next time).

You stepped out of the restaurant into a lovely, warm evening. The fireflies were starting to come out and for a moment you simply admired the atmosphere. When you looked at Frankie you found him already looking at you.

“Do you want to walk around a bit? I know there’s a park on the next block.” You nodded, smiling at the suggestion and the idea that neither of you were ready for this to end quite yet. Frankie slid his arm around your waist as he turned to start walking. Your attention narrowed to the warm feeling of his hand on your hip and his thumb as it moved gently back and forth over your clothes. 

When he said something, it took a moment for you to respond. “Sorry, what?” Your cheeks burned. 

He grinned. “I asked, are you going to be at the PTA fundraising thing next weekend?”

“Oh!” You nodded. “Yes, all the teachers are, pretty much. Did you buy a ticket?” He nodded. “Great. Maybe I can get us seated together.”

Frankie winked at you and you felt something flutter in your chest. “You wanna sit with me?”

You nudged him with your elbow. “Of course I do.”

“Good,” he replied, tucking you closer into his side as you turned into the small park. “Because I definitely want to sit with you.”

You laughed. “It’ll probably be more fun that way. It’s not a bad event, but it can be sort of boring. Lots of speeches about all the good things the district is doing so people will volunteer or donate more. And then the auction of the different projects from the classrooms at the elementary school.”

He nodded. “Elena told me about theirs. Apparently it’s snake themed.” He shuddered dramatically and you grinned.

“Well, you’re obviously going to bid on that one,” you teased, and let out a tiny squeak when he stopped and tugged you to stand in front of him. His hands came to rest on your hips and you realized he’d navigated the two of you under a large tree, just off the path.

He smiled. “I promised Elena I would, but I’m going to bid low on purpose. Don’t tell her.”

You nodded and tried to look serious instead of laughing. “I promise I won’t tell your daughter that you intentionally did not win her class project.” 

Frankie squinted at you. “Hmm ok. Let’s say I believe you.”

You laughed, and his answering grin drew your eyes like a magnet.

“You know, Elena told me I should pick you up in a limo for this date.” 

“You’re kidding,” you said, laughing again. “Why?”

He shrugged and squeezed your hips. “Apparently that’s the most romantic thing I could do. She was mad when I didn’t.”

You smiled. “Well, you can tell her I didn’t need a limo. I think you’re pretty romantic without it.”

“Yeah?” He asked, one side of his mouth lifting in a smile.

You nodded, swaying a bit closer to him. 

“Hey, hermosa,” he started, voice teasing, and you tilted your head at him curiously. “Can I kiss you?”

You grinned. “Frankie, you don’t have to ask.”

He leaned in with a little smirk playing around his mouth. “Good to know,” he murmured just before his lips met yours.

It was just as good as the night at his house, when you’d danced and cuddled on his couch. No, it was better. 

His lips pressed softly against yours and you lost yourself in the gentle sensation. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around you. You slid your palms up his chest and around his neck, tangling your fingers in his loose curls. He moaned when you tugged lightly and you felt a shiver run up your spine.

You opened to him and suddenly the kiss went from soft (and safe for public consumption) to heady (and edging towards too much for a public park). Frankie slid his hand down to cup your ass and you broke the kiss on a gasp.

“Frankie–” you sighed his name as he pressed a soft line of kisses down your neck. “I think we should get out of here before we get in trouble for public indecency. Or we run into any of my students.”

He snorted against your shoulder and you grinned. 

“Sorry, hermosa,” he murmured, lips still touching your skin. “Couldn’t help myself.”

He lifted his head to meet your eyes again, and you smiled as you took in his reddened lips and heavy lidded eyes. “Take me home, Frankie.”

He raised his eyebrows in question, and you nodded. He still asked, “home? To your home?”

You smiled and slid your hand down to tangle with his. “Yours, mine. Whichever one you’d like.”

Frankie grinned and started to lead the way back to his car. “Let’s go to yours, baby. I’ve got my phone if they need me.”

The two of you almost jogged back down the sidewalk, giggling when you ran into each other as Frankie maneuvered around a light pole. When you got to his car you were both grinning widely. He crowded you against the passenger door and pressed his smile of yours.

“Come on, Frankie,” you whispered against his mouth. “Take me home.”

He hummed and pressed his forehead against yours. “Whatever you want, hermosa.”

The tension only built higher in the car. Frankie drove with his left hand while his right stayed firmly clasped with yours on your thigh. Every few seconds he would glance at you and you watched with great interest as his eyes darkened.

When you pulled into his driveway, you were out of the car and moving towards your front door before he managed to get out. You looked back at him and smiled and he laughed. He jogged to catch up with you in front of your door, slipping his arms around you from behind and kissing your neck.

“In a hurry, hermosa?”

You smiled again as you unlocked the door. “Maybe just in a hurry to get inside where I can kiss you as much as I want.”

He hummed in agreement as the two of you stepped through your door. As soon as it shut behind you he turned you around and pressed you back into it. “Hi there,” he murmured against your mouth. 

You smiled into the kiss. “Hi Frankie.” He deepened the kiss and you welcomed it, falling into the feeling of Frankie and nothing else.

His hands came to rest on your hips again as he stepped closer. You could feel the heat of him all down your front and sighed as you let your head fall back against the door. He worked his way down your neck with firm kisses and a bit of teeth.

“Can I make you feel good, hermosa?” He squeezed your hips as he worried a small mark inside of your neckline.

“Yes, Frankie,” you breathed, tangling your hands in his hair.

He pressed forward with his hips and you felt again how hard and big his cock was in his pants. “Can I use my mouth on you? Please, baby. I’ll make it so good for you.” 

You gasped at the sudden mental image of Frankie on his knees in front of you, that smirk winding you up as he leaned forward. “Yes, Frankie,” your voice was thin and breathy and you felt him smile into your neck. “Please, yes.”

He slid his hands from your hips and tugged yours from his hair so he could tangle your fingers together. He started to walk backwards and you followed easily, kicking off your shoes by the door. “Come sit on the couch for me, bebita.” His eyes were locked on yours as he guided you to sit. When he knelt in front of you, you whimpered.

“Look at you,” he murmured, eyes sweeping over you as you sucked in a sharp breath. “So fucking beautiful.” He slid his hands up your legs and over your hips with a smirk. “You know that, right? You’re beautiful.”

You bit your lip and smiled. “I– I like it when you tell me,” you said, feeling a bit shy.

He deftly unfastened your pants and began to slide them down your hips with your underwear, guiding you to lift up your hips and ease the way. “You’re so beautiful.” He began pressing kisses along your thighs as they were revealed. “Can’t wait to see every part of you.” He nipped lightly at your thigh and you gasped. “Been dreaming about this.”

“Dreaming?” You repeated, head swimming from the feeling of his lips and his words.

“Dreaming,” he repeated as he tossed your pants behind him, “of the way your pussy tastes, bebita. Of making you fall apart on my tongue.”

Your hands clenched in the fabric of your couch at his words and your mouth fell open. “Fuck,” you whispered, and he grinned.

“C’mere, hermosa. Legs open.” He tapped your left thigh and you let your legs fall open to either side of him. His eyes locked on your pussy and darkened. “I knew it. So fucking pretty.”

Without hesitating, Frankie leaned forward and licked a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit. You moaned.

“That’s right. Let me hear you, bebita.” You felt his lips move and the vibration of his deep voice against your pussy and moaned again. He hummed and dove back in with enthusiasm.

Frankie pressed an open mouth kiss to your entrance, teasing around it with his tongue. When your hips twitched forward he took the invitation and slipped his tongue inside. He slowly thrust it forward once, and then twice, lips closed over your pussy. Your head fell back against the couch at the feeling of his tongue slipping inside of you, at the obvious pleasure he took in the act when he moaned. You could feel the vibration inside and gasped. 

He slipped his tongue from inside you and licked upwards towards your clit. You felt his fingers start to tease around your entrance at the same moment his tongue started to circle your clit, and you threaded your fingers through his hair. 

“Frankie,” you sighed, overwhelmed. “Yes, shit, Frankie–” you cut yourself off with another moan as he slipped two fingers inside of you and curled them upwards just right.

You began to lose yourself in the feeling of his fingers thrusting inside of you and his tongue working your clit expertly, devastatingly well. You felt a tingling at the base of your spine that climbed up your back. Your hands twisted in his hair as you felt yourself hurtling towards the cliff you knew awaited you, so close and coming closer.  

He twisted his fingers and pressed his tongue firmly to your clit and your back arched off the couch. “Frankie, I’m–” You tried to warn him, but it was already there, you were already teetering over the edge of the cliff when he closed his lips around your clit and gently sucked. 

Your eyes flew open as you fell over the edge and you keened his name, gripping his hair and almost pressing his face into your pussy as your orgasm swept over you. As it rushed from you your arms fell limp at your sides and you stared at the ceiling as you started to come back to yourself. 

You felt something come to rest against your hip and, with great effort, looked down to find Frankie grinning smugly at you, lips and chin wet and glistening.

“You are so fucking beautiful when you come, cariño.” His voice was deeper than usual and you shivered.

“H–” you tried to talk but had to clear your throat. You took a deep breath and tried again. “Holy shit, Frankie. You are really fucking good at that.”

You watched, charmed, as his nose crinkled with the size of his grin. 

“Yeah?” He asked, but you could tell he knew he was good at it. You poked him in the shoulder. 

“Yes, Frankie.” You bit your lip. “C’mere, handsome.” You tugged on his shirt until he moved, pulling him up and over you on the couch. You both turned until you were lying down with him above you and you tugged him into a deep kiss.

He thrust down against you and you realized you were both still clothed, other than your pants. You smiled and broke the kiss. “Take your pants off, Frankie.”

He smiled down at you. “Only if you take your shirt off, hermosa.”

You laughed. “Ok, new deal – no more clothes allowed. And maybe we move this to the bed.”

Frankie grinned and nodded. He stood and tugged you up alongside him, catching you with a firm arm around your waist. You could feel his cock still hard in his pants and smiled into a quick kiss. 

The two of you stayed tangled together as you walked towards your bedroom, giggling occasionally when you tripped over something or bumped into a wall. Each time he was there to catch you, strong arms holding you up.

By the time you reached your bed you were naked, and Frankie let his shirt drop to the floor just before he crawled over you. Your eyes roamed over his naked torso, and you opened your mouth to compliment him when you caught sight of his cock and froze, mouth wide.

He followed your gaze and preened, just a bit.

“Jesus, Frankie,” you breathed. “You’re fucking big.”

You met his eyes again and saw that he was grinning. “It’s ok, bebita.” He leaned forward to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I promise it’ll fit.” A shiver ran up your spine and you swore you felt yourself somehow get even wetter than before.

“I was going to say,” you started as he leaned closer, hovering over you on his elbow, “you are so hot, Frankie.” You ran your hands from his broad shoulders down his sides and reached around to grip his ass with one. 

He blushed again and you smiled at the juxtaposition of his easy confidence about his skills in the bedroom and his shy response to any compliments about his looks.

“It’s true,” you insisted. “You’re hot. Deal with it.”

He laughed, and hid his face in your neck. His cock brushed against your pussy when he moved and you sucked in a sharp breath. 

“Well,” he pressed a kiss to the spot where your shoulder met your neck, and you tilted your head to the side to give him more room. He continued, lips brushing against your skin, “you’re so beautiful it takes my breath away. Clothes or no clothes.” He brought his free hand up to run his fingers lightly over your chest as he spoke and you sighed. His fingers slipped lower until they brushed over your slit. “Let me in, bebita.” You opened your legs for him again and he smiled against your neck. “Just like that.”

His fingers teased at your clit before sliding down to tease at your entrance, and you sighed when he slipped two inside of you. “Gotta make sure you’re ready,” he murmured, moving back up to capture your lips in a kiss. You met him eagerly, opening your mouth to tangle your tongues together. His hips thrust forward and his cock nudged against your thigh.

Frankie broke the kiss and took a deep breath. “You’re so wet, bebita.” He twisted his fingers inside of you and your eyes fluttered shut. “Just for me?”

You nodded, and he let out a soft moan. “Fuck, hermosa.” He kissed you again, hard and quick. “Wanted this for so long, and now you’re here, fuck–” He ducked his head to rest against your shoulder and you tangled your fingers in his hair again. He hummed.

“Wanted this too, Frankie,” you tilted your hips and felt his cock slide against your thigh again. “Want you inside me.”

He shivered and you felt his cock twitch where it was trapped between you. You grinned. 

“Condom?” He rasped, lifting his head up to catch your gaze.

You bit your lip and his eyes dropped down to watch. His fingers thrust into you again and you sighed. 

“I’m on birth control,” you started, and he groaned.

“You sure? I haven’t had sex in, well. A while. And I had to get a full work up and physical for this job.” His slid his fingers from inside you slowly and your hips chased them. He smiled.

“I’m sure, Frankie.” You smiled at each other until Frankie shook his head and began to move. He centered himself between your open legs and his cock slid over your pussy, making you gasp. 

“Ay, cariño,” he moaned, eyes falling shut. “You feel so fucking good.”

You tilted your hips and on his next thrust the head of his cock caught on your entrance. Frankie’s moan mixed with your own. 

“Ready?” He leaned down to kiss you and you nodded into the kiss.

“Yes, Frankie.” 

He captured your mouth again as the head of his cock slipped inside of you. Your hands flew up and around him again, one tangling in his hair and the other grasping at his back. His cock slid forward slowly but steadily and you lost yourself in the stretch, in all of the ways he was touching you, with his body and his cock and his mouth.

When he bottomed out, you were already floating upwards towards another peak.

He broke the kiss, breath heaving as he stopped moving with his cock fully inside of you. “You feel so good, bebita. Fuck.” You could hear the strain of staying so still in his voice and your pussy clenched around him. He shivered. 

“You’re so big, Frankie,” you murmured into his ear. “Feels like you’re everywhere.” 

He pressed a smile to your cheek and then your neck behind your ear. “That’s where I want you, bebita,” he broke off to nip at your neck, “everywhere.”

Frankie started to move, slowly, pulling backwards until just the head of his cock was inside of you. When he thrust forward again you moaned. You opened your eyes (when had you shut them?) to find him watching your face as he found a slow but devastating rhythm. He smiled, slow. “You’re so fucking amazing,” he said, tone full of wonder. “You’re beautiful on my cock, bebita. And you’re taking me so well.” He thrust forward again and you gasped.

“You feel so good, Frankie.” You had to tell him, too, you wanted him to know how good he felt inside of you, how good he was making you feel. “I’ve never–” He thrust forward again, eyes dancing over your face, and your breath hitched. “It’s never felt so good.”

He fell forward to kiss you again, and you began to move in unison, both chasing the feeling you knew was waiting just out of reach. It started to climb up your spine again, started to tingle through your body and you broke the kiss. “I’m close, Frankie–” he kissed you again, cutting you off. 

“I know. I can feel it.” He pressed his forehead to yours as you both worked towards your climaxes. “Just like that, shit.” Frankie reached down to tug your leg up around his hip. It changed the angle just enough that his next thrust sent sparks dancing over your skin. “Come on, baby. Give it to me. Please.”

Your breath caught and on his next thrust, you came. You reached the peak and toppled over the other side, arms tightening around him, pussy clenching around his cock. You felt the muscles in your torso tense and the strength of your orgasm as it swept through your body. You were breathing hard when you came back to yourself, to the sound of Frankie’s voice in your ear coaxing you through it.

“Just like that, hermosa. Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful. The way you come, fuck, never seen anything better, never felt so good.” His hips sped up and you clutched at him, urging him on.

“Frankie,” you breathed his name, and felt him shudder. “Come for me, handsome. I want to feel you.”

Your words tipped him over the edge and on his next thrust you felt it, watched his face as he tipped over the edge. Your eyes danced over his expression, not wanting to miss a single moment.

You both breathed hard for a moment, quiet, until Frankie’s eyes opened and found yours.

“Cariño,” he breathed, starting to smile. “That was amazing.”

You smiled, feeling some warm emotion start to fill your chest at the wonder in his voice. “It was so good, Frankie.”

He grinned so wide his nose crinkled, and you decided that was your favorite of his smiles. The one so big he couldn’t hold in the joy.

He leaned down to kiss you gently and slid his cock from inside of you as carefully as he could. You still gasped, lightly, when he slipped from you completely. He pressed a soothing kiss to your lips. “Let me get you cleaned up.” He was up and in your bathroom before you could blink, returning just as quickly with a warm washcloth and a soft smile.

Soon you were tucked into your sheets, legs tangled with Frankie’s, head resting on his chest. His hand rested lightly on your head and your arm looped securely around his waist.

“Frankie,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his chest. He hummed in response. “This was the best first date of my life.”

You knew he was smiling without looking up to check. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Mine too, hermosa.” He kissed you again. “Not to get ahead of myself, but–” he cut himself off abruptly and didn’t continue. Curious, you lifted your head to catch his eye. He looked happy but a little wary. 

“What is it?” you leaned forward to kiss him encouragingly and he smiled. 

“Well,” he kissed you again. “I was just thinking. Elena is going to be so smug when she realizes her plan got us together.” He swallowed, looking a little hesitant. “I mean–”

“Together?” You interrupted, and he nodded, expression a little shy. You smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

Frankie grinned, wide, your favorite smile spreading across his face again. “Good.” He tugged you closer again. “Me too.”

...

a/n: let me know what you think? and let me know if you don't want to be on the tag list going forward. 🧡

tag list: @harriedandharassed @jupiter-soups @ilovepedro @auteurdelabre @anoverwhelmingdin

@myloveistoolittle @iknowisoundcrazy @beezusvreeland @screechingphantommaker @bigboiseason123

@joelalorian @untamedheart81 @ashleyfilm @jessthebaker @jeewrites

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@littlevenicebitch69 @secretelephanttattoo @pigeonmama @vickie5446

@glizzymcguirex @verymiraclemiracle @friskispunk

[ilovepedro]

just married | frankie morales x f!reader

Main masterlist

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~2k

Summary: You and Frankie just tied the knot. Half way through the reception, your insatiable husband whisks you away for some much needed privacy.

Warnings: fluff, oral (f receiving), fingering, exhibitionism (sex in a private bathroom), unprotected PIV (wrap it up y’all), creampie, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N.

A/N: happy frankie friday! this is based off this post, i could not for the life of me shake this from my head. literally wrote this in an hour, i’m telling y’all i’m actually going insane. the brain rot is actually concerning. FRANKIE NATION RISE! 🫡 anyway, i hope y’all enjoy! 🫶🏼 i loveeee me some frankie 🫠 not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. 🏃‍♀️

Divider by @saradika

“Come on, hermosa,” Frankie rasps in your ear, moving his hands from your hips and grabbing your hand, a small smirk playing on his lips. Music booms from the DJ’s speakers, the dance floor lively and vibrant.

“Where are we going, baby?” You ask, your gown flowing freely as your new husband swiftly maneuvers you through the crowd. “You’ll see,” he shouts over the thrumming music. Your body buzzing with excitement and a smile, so big it hurts, adorns your face.

Leading you out into the hall and racing up the stairs, giggling like a couple of school children. Frankie drags you to the bathroom at the end of the hall, flinging the door open and guiding you inside.

He grips your hips and crashes his lips onto yours, swallowing your dissipating giggles as he presses you up against the door and locks it. You whimper softly as his hands begin to roam your body.

His hands roam your backside, making his way down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “Frankie!” You squeal, breathlessly, laughter bubbling over your lips as you pull back for a bit of air.

A toothy grin breaks out into his face. “I’ve missed you, hermosa,” he pants, the both of you breathless from running and desperately kissing each other.

“I’ve missed you too, baby.” Not having had a moment to yourselves this whole day, you two bask in this brief moment of privacy.

He brings you in for another insatiable kiss. Your hands tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, making him groan into you. Snaking his hands down your waist, he cups your mound in one hand. You moan into him as your brows scrunch in pleasure, grinding against his hand.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day, baby,” he groans, guiding you to the sink, pressing your backside up against it as he peppers kisses to the column of your throat. “You look so fucking gorgeous, baby, this goddamn dress is driving me crazy,” he whispers, nipping your neck. 

“You’re driving me crazy, Frankie,” you gasp. “Look so fucking sexy in that tux, baby.” He smiles into your skin, working his way back up to draw you in for another kiss. You moan into his mouth as he slips his tongue inside, arousal pooling in your panties and sticking to your sex. Swallowing every moan that pours into his mouth, he pulls back, your lipgloss staining his lips. 

Crouching to his knees, he bunches your gown up over his head and moans at the sight of your lacy panties paired with your garter. 

“Fuck, baby. So fucking wet for me all fucking the time,” he whispers huskily as his large, warm hands run along your thighs. He slides your garter down your leg, tucking it into his back pocket. 

Propping you up onto the sink, he spreads your legs and presses a kiss to your sex. You moan at the feeling, aching for more. One of his thick fingers prods at your entrance, parting your lips and allowing your husband a view of your glistening pussy.

“Please, Frankie,” you plead breathlessly, tossing your head back. 

“Yeah? My pretty little wife wants me to eat her pussy? Huh, mi esposa?” You moan, eagerly nodding as you clench around nothing. Frankie doesn’t miss the way your thighs squeeze together.

“What my wife wants, my wife gets.”

Without warning, Frankie dives in and licks broad stripes up your folds, gasping as you bite back a moan with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, attempting to be quiet. 

“No no, baby. I wanna hear you. They can’t even hear us with the music, it’s just us, baby - just me and you,” he says before diving back in and licking through your folds, his strong nose nudging your clit and your eyes flying open.

“Oh fuck, Frankie!” You moan loudly, eyes squeezed shut as you toss your head back, caution blown to the wind. You snake a hand into Frankie’s curls, tugging at them and eliciting a groan from your husband. The vibrations against your cunt send a new wave of arousal seeping from you, Frankie lapping up every drop as he drowns in your slick.

His tongue prods your entrance, fucking into you. He groans at the way you clench around him, chest rumbling in satisfaction. 

It’s sloppy, and hungry the way he laves at your weeping cunt. His tongue circles your clit relentlessly, your cries filling the air. His lips wrap around your swollen bud as his grip on your thighs tightens. Your hips involuntarily buck up into his face. He snakes his left hand up to your stomach, ring-adorned hand pushing you down and holding you in place. 

“So f-fucking good, F-Frankie, oh my god,” you keen above him, legs wrapping around his back as you try to brace yourself for your impending orgasm. His relentless pace creates a cloud of stars in your eyes. 

“I’m close, Frankie! So close, don’t stop! Please don’t stop, baby,” you yelp, tears of pleasure stinging the corners of your eyes as the coil in your belly tightens.

A sudden intrusion pulls a sharp gasp from you. Two of his thick, long fingers crook into that spongy spot with every stroke as he sucks on your clit. 

His fingers, his mouth, the ring on the hand which pins you down overwhelms you - he’s all-consuming. 

Your vision flashes hot white as the coil in your belly snaps, cumming all over your husband’s face and his fingers. Frankie laps at your juices as you grind your cunt into his face, thighs trembling while riding out your high. He groans as he slurps you up like the sweetest nectar, not wasting a single drop. Your whines fill the air along with a squelching sound as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you. 

He pulls back and rises to his feet, his patchy beard glistening with your slick. Slamming his lips onto yours, the two of you moan into each other. The taste of yourself on his tongue makes your head spin.

Frankie ruts his hips into yours, his clothed cock brushing against your exposed cunt and a loud cry pouring from your lips at the sensitivity. Wrapping your arms around his neck to draw him closer, you buck your hips against his, seeking more stimulation.

“Lean back for me, baby.” he rasps as he pulls back, gently pushing you back against the mirror. He makes quick work unbuckling his belt and shoving his pants to his ankles. You suck your bottom lip in between your teeth, mouth watering at the sight of your husband’s angry, leaking cock. Unable to resist, you palm him in your hands, smearing the dribbles of precum along his throbbing length. Frankie stifles a moan, moving your hand away and lines up his cock at your dripping hole.

Swirling small circles around your entrance, gathering the new wave slick that pours from your cunt on his length.

“Frankieeee,” you keen. “No teasing, please, amor,” you huff, on the verge of tears as your desperation grows.

“I got you, amor, don’t worry,” he whispers in your ear. He slides in slowly, but smoothly in one go, your slippery folds allowing him easy access. Both of you moan in tandem, Frankie’s brows pinched together and your lips parted.

You’re so full, relishing in the dull sting as he stuffs your wet heat to the brim. “Move, baby. Please move, mi amor,” you plead, breathless and desperate, seeking some relief.

“Shh shh, it’s okay, baby. I’m gonna take care of you, I always will,”  He says, voice hushed and husky, placing a kiss to your forehead. 

You know his words run deeper than just the matter at hand, having promised to love you eternally just hours ago.

He slowly drags out of you ever so slightly before snapping his hips into yours, his tip punching your g-spot. His hands rest on your waist as he picks up his pace. The room sounds pornographic - filled with the sounds of your squelching pussy, skin-on-skin, moans, and pants.

“I’m the lu-luckiest man ever. Got the prettiest girl ever to m-marry me. Knew you’d make a beautiful bride, hermosa. Most beautiful f-fuckin’ bride in the world, my pretty little wife. Get to, shit, get to love you and fuck this tight little pussy every goddamn day for the rest of our lives. Fuck,” he rambles, hips canting into yours.

Clenching around him at his words, more slick drips from your weeping cunt and onto the counter. An endless string of moans tumble from you and into the air.

“S-so fucking good to m-me, baby. So l-lucky to be your wife,” you keen, pressing your forehead against his. He hungrily captures your lips in a ferocious kiss, teeth clashing together as neither of you care how messy you two will look after.

“My wife. You’re mine, baby, you’re mine forever,” he moans as his tip kisses your cervix. Your walls flutter around him, your second orgasm rapidly approaching.

“Come on, baby, come on, baby. Let go, hermosa. I know you’re close. Let me feel you, I got you, baby,” he babbles almost incoherently. You wail as your orgasm washes over you, convulsing under his grasp, twitching uncontrollably as slick endlessly streams from your cunt. “There we go, baby. Good girl. So fucking good, hermosa. Always feel so fucking good,” Frankie groans against your lips, his thrust growing sloppy as your slippery cunt sucks him in.

“Love you so much, Frankie,” you gasp. “Love you too, hermosa,” he grunts. You can feel him throb inside of you.

“Cum, Frankie. Fill me up, please, baby,” you beg, still riding out the high of your climax.

“Yeah baby? Want my cum? Want me to stuff you full and walk around our wedding with my cum dripping out of your tight little pussy?" 

A high-pitched moan escaping your lips, you squeeze tightly around him. “Yes, Frankie! Wanna feel it dripping down my legs under my dress,” you squeal, overstimulation starting to sink in.

"My dirty fucking girl,” he rasps, punctuating his words with every thrust as he shoots warm ropes of cum into your cunt, coating your walls with his seed. A guttural groan rumbles from deep within his chest. Slowing his pace, you whimper as he fucks his cum into your used hole.

He rests his clammy forehead against yours, breath fanning each other's faces. Post-coital bliss settling amongst you two, the faint humming of the music from the reception rings in the air.

“Do you think they’ve noticed we’re gone?” You ask, panting. A deep chuckle rattles his chest, making you laugh. “I’m pretty sure they have, hermosa.” You pull him in by his tie, kissing him languidly. He pulls back and presses a playful tap to your thigh.

“Come on, baby. Let’s go before the guys start talking shit,” he says, helping you to your feet, and wiping his spend from your mound and in between your legs. He settles your gown into place as you fix your makeup in the mirror. He fixes his hair while you adjust his suit and tie back into place. You beam as you lock eyes with his, love shimmering in the corners of them. He entwines his fingers with yours as he leads you out the door and back downstairs to the reception.

It seems nobody has noticed you two were gone, or just don’t question your absence, as you two mingle your way back into the crowd.

“Hey! Where the hell were you two?! It’s time for the bouquet toss!" You best friend, and maid-of-honor, screeches.

"And the garter toss!” Santiago, the best man, chimes in. They drag you both to the dance floor. Women crowd the dance floor as you toss your bouquet over your shoulder, your best friend catching it and eyeing her partner. 

Music blares as Frankie leads you to a chair in the middle of the dance floor. He teasingly lifts your dress to remove your garter, to be met with nothing. Your eyes bug out of your head, heat coursing through your veins.

“Where’s my garter?” You ask him. Santiago appears behind Frankie, taking something out of his back pocket and holding it out to Frankie. “Here it is!”

Laughter erupts amongst your guests as you hide your face in your hands, an embarrassed smile plastered on Frankie’s lips, meekly waving to the crowd. He pries your hands from your face, playfully rolling his eyes as he brushes off the embarrassment while helping you to your feet. Cheering and whooping fills the hall as you smile apologetically to the crowd as they roar, Frankie cupping your face and pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

Frankie is rotting my brain today obvi. this one's for all my Frankie girlies out there, shout out to y’all 🩷

thank you for reading! 🫶🏼

tag list: @undrthelights @gracieheartspedro @jenispunk @amanitacowboy @bastardmandennis @nostalxgic @tinygarbage @party-hearses @mandoisapunk @harriedandharassed

[milla-frenchy]

Morning waves

3k7 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Frankie Morales | ao3

Summary: you meet two men who are on a road trip. You like the same things: the ocean, surfing, dancing and having fun

Warnings: 18+ mdni. threesome MFM, praise kink, fingering, public sex, oral (m/f), piv, dp, anal play, rimming, anal, spit as lube, creampies

No age specified

a/n: this is a contribution to Jamie’s ocean challenge @mermaidgirl30 thank you for this great idea 👌🙏

I've wanted to write Frankie for a while, and even more so after reading “Down the hall” @frannyzooey 😍😍 and this challenge was perfect to introduce him as my new Pedro boy. 

Dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏

@aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing, for the ideas, and for holding my hand with this one, as always 💕 🫶

Masterlist

*********

The first rays of sunshine were already warming you through the windows of your car. You were driving towards the ocean, ready to enjoy its waves. Every morning, very early, you were going to your favorite surf spot. This morning like the others, a few other surfers were also present. Between each set, you were all waiting on your boards, straddling them, letting yourself be carried away by their calm movement.

“You’re impressive”, you heard behind you.

You turned around, and met the most beautiful, sweetest brown eyes you had ever seen.

“Frankie, another set is coming.” You didn't look at the man who had spoken, immediately turning your gaze towards the horizon and new waves that were forming. You surfed that set and a few more. 

When you were returning to the beach, you saw the man called Frankie taking off his wetsuit. The man next to him was doing the same. They smiled at you, when you approached them.

“Hi! I’m Joel, and this is Frankie.”

“Hi, guys!”

“Nice waves!” Frankie’s smile was really sweet. And cute.

“Yeah! Where are you from? I’ve never seen you before. And with that drawl…Texas, I guess?”

Joel laughed and replied “yeah, Austin. We’re on a road trip. Coming from northern California, heading to the south. Are you from here?”

“Yeah, I live here. I’m on holidays, enjoying the ocean.”

“That’s great! Seems like heaven here. Do you know any cool bars? We’ve just arrived, and we’re gonna stay for some time in this place,” Frankie asked. 

“Yeah, there’s ‘The lagoon’. I'm gonna be there around 6 p.m., if you wanna join me?

“Sure! We’ll see you there.”

You spent the evening with them at the bar. Frankie and Joel had been friends for a long time, they told you about their trip, their lives in Texas. Joel worked as a contractor and Frankie was an ex-military, doing jobs with Joel from time to time. They were nice, cool, and made you laugh a lot. They were not flirty nor pushy, and you felt good and safe in their company.

Joel had a certain self-confidence, and was more direct than Frankie. His brown hair was shorter. His smile was devastating. Every evening, when the three of you met again, he wore jeans and a blue or black T-shirt which accentuated his torso and biceps.

Frankie was a little shyer. His slightly longer hair called for your fingers with its brown curls. His eyes and smile were incredibly soft. He often wore lighter pants, gray or brown t-shirts. A cap that he only took off to surf. Both men were beautiful.

You spent the next evenings with them, dancing and drinking shots at The lagoon. Every day you looked forward to seeing them at the beach, then at the bar. They were doing pretty well at surfing, asking for some advice from time to time, and making great progress. 

One night, the three of you were on the beach, hoping to catch some Northern Lights. And you weren't disappointed. The sky was colored with pink, purple and blue lights, while you were lying next to each other on the sand, a little closer than usual. And when Frankie kissed your forehead and Joel your cheek as you were lying on the blanket between them, you felt heat in your core. You saw them differently for the first time.

The Lagoon was crowded. You sat on a stool at the counter, sipping your cocktail until you saw Joel enter the bar. He smiled at you and you wondered how many hearts he had broken. He was so hot. He joined you, hugged you and said “hey, sweetheart” with his Texan drawl.

“Isn’t Frankie here?” you asked him.

“He should be soon. He went to get a tattoo.”

“What, now?”

“Yeah”, he laughed.

You two danced, his hands settled on your hips. Slightly more intimate than usual. He smelled good. He smelled like the sun and the beach. He ran his hand over your back, which your summer dress barely covered. And when your eyes met, something was different.

You walked back to the counter, and he was smiling as he was drinking his beer. His eyes were fixed on you.

“What?” You asked him, smiling too.

“You’re damn pretty, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened slightly, hearing him. It was the first time he told you something like that. So directly. Even though last night, on the beach, the atmosphere was different between the three of you. Even though two minutes ago, when you were dancing, you felt the warmth of his fingers on your skin, and your hair stood up from the desire for him.

He waited for a few seconds, checking on your reaction. Took another sip. When he saw you smile at him again, he leaned towards you, his nose brushing against your cheek, his hand resting on your waist. You felt goosebumps again. Some electricity between you. And you saw in his eyes that he was feeling the same thing.

“Wanna have some fun tonight?”

You felt heat reach your cheeks but you nodded and murmured, “yeah.”

“Yeah?”

He got up, stood between your knees while you were still sitting on the stool, and leaned forward to kiss you. You felt your heart rate speed up. He placed his hands on your bare thighs and caressed them, slightly pushing the fabric up, as you ran your fingers over his biceps. Then he slipped one hand between your legs. Slowly. Stroking your inner thigh. You whimpered when his fingers brushed against your pussy through your panties.

“You want more, darlin’?”

“Yes, Joel...”

“You gonna let me finger you in here?” he asked, his cheek against yours. His soft beard against your skin.

“Yeah…”

He slid your panties to the side, and his fingers brushed against your folds, making you moan into his neck. He looked up and said, “hey, Frankie.”

You felt shy and tightened your thighs against his legs. He kissed your cheek then said in your ear, on the side where Frankie was standing to make sure he would hear “I’m sure he’d love to touch you too,” before looking back at you. His fingers were still brushing against your delicate skin, and you really wanted to feel him more. To calm the fire, burning you from the inside.

You looked at him, then turned your head towards Frankie. His stare was still soft, but not only. You saw the desire for you in his eyes. 

“Do it Frankie”, you told him. At that moment you didn't care about anything else anymore. The crowded bar. The people who could see you, and wonder what the three of you were doing. Or knowing too well what you were doing.

“Are you wet, baby?” Frankie asked.

You nodded and whined, the second Joel pushed a finger in your core.

“She’s soaked”, Joel said, nuzzling your neck, and you bit your lip. 

“Damn, baby,” Frankie moved closer, the two men now standing in front of you. When one of Frankie's fingers joined Joel's in your pussy, your fists clenched their shirts. One of them stroked your clit with his thumb, but you didn’t know who. It turned you on even more. Their fingers slid into your wetness, pumping your pussy at the same rhythm, and you tried to hold back your moans even if it was getting more and more difficult.

“You're gonna come for us?” You shook your head “I…I can’t. Not here. Too many people.”

“Forget about them. Soak our fingers, baby. And then we’ll have some time together in our van if you want.”

“Yeah…Yes. Fuck.” You felt their eyes fixed on you. They were close to you, so close, protecting you from the eyes of others. Your pussy tightened around their fingers and you were trembling more and more. You felt another thumb near your clit that soon replaced the other one, and whimpered. Your pussy was trickling, and they could have pushed more fingers in easily.

“Come for us, sweetheart. Right here, in this bar. God, you’re fucking hot.”

You bit your lip as you came on their fingers, your pussy clenching desperately on them. They kept fingering you through it, until one of them put your panties back in place, then your dress. You watched Joel lick his finger with a look full of desire, and your arousal increased even more. 

“Take me to your van, please. I need…I need more”, you breathed.

Frankie kissed your cheek, and Joel placed his hand on the small of your back as you got off the stool. Your legs were shaky and he held your elbow until you reached the parking lot then the van. Frankie offered to come to the back with him, on the mattress that they had already set up for the night, without knowing how it would end. You both lay there as Joel started driving. You didn't know where and right now you didn't care. Frankie was already leaning towards you, kissing your cheek then your neck. Your fingers ran through his soft curls. His hand rested against your face at first, then he brought it to his mouth. Licking the finger you had come on, just as Joel had done a few minutes before.

“Damn baby, you taste so good. Can I go down on you?”

“What, now?”

“Yeah. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”

“Fuck…Ok.”

The van was swaying on a bumpy road when Frankie knelt between your thighs, and took off your dress, then your panties. He brought them to his nose and breathed them slowly, keeping his eyes on you, and the vision was intoxicating. The way they wanted you was driving you crazy. He turned the front of his cap backwards, and lay down between your thighs. He growled as he licked a long stripe between your folds.

“Jesus Christ, Frankie…you lucky bastard”, Joel said.

Frankie was already lapping at your pussy, and he was good at it. So good that you already felt a new orgasm building, while he was drinking all your wetness, his thumb twirling on your clit.

“Frankie…oh my god”, you whimpered. 

You heard Joel unzip his jeans and pull out his cock. “You’re so hot that Joel can’t help fisting his cock while driving, baby” he said, before licking your folds again.

“Fuck, of course I do. All these moans are killing me. How does she taste? Tell me.”

“The sweetest taste, man...” He grabbed your thighs to pull you closer to him. As if he wanted more, always more, and you couldn’t stop moaning.

“Jesus...” Joel growled, as you heard the sound of his wrist fucking his cock.

Your fingers were lost in Frankie’s brown curls, while his nose rubbed perfectly against your clit and his tongue roamed your pussy.

“Frankie…”

“Yeah baby, tell me.”

“Your fingers, please, need your fingers.”

“Like this, mmm?” he asked, pushing two fingers in you.

“Yeah…your tongue too, please.”

His lips surrounded your clit, sucking gently, before giving way to his tongue. His wrist gently pumped your pussy and you felt your wetness running down your folds to the sheets.

“Fuck, baby…I can hear the pretty little noises of your pussy from here, you’re so fucking wet.”

“I know, I know, oh my god, Frankie!” You squeezed his head between your thighs when you came, letting him lick your folds until you stopped shaking. The van's engine was off, but you didn't realize you had stopped. You heard the sound of the waves as Joel opened his door to join you in the back.

“Fuck sweetheart, look at that… he ate you good, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah…fuck”, you breathed out.

Frankie shifted aside slightly and Joel lay down, his shoulders between your knees. He caressed your folded thighs, and delicately licked your wetness, being careful not to stimulate your overly sensitive clit.

“You taste so fuckin’ good, darlin’. Lemme eat ya just a little, ok? “ he said, moving his hand up your sweaty stomach, to a breast that he grabbed. Frankie kissed your thigh, while he caressed your other breast. You moaned again, your stomach rising rapidly with your heavy breathing. Joel’s beard rubbed against your inner thighs. He ran his tongue flat through your folds, sometimes down to your tight ring. Before going back up again, tirelessly. You imagined their hard cocks and you couldn’t wait to feel them in you. 

“You want us to fuck you, baby?”

You nodded, “yeah, need your cocks.”

“Damn, could do this for hours. How do you want us?”

“I huh… I don’t know, I’ve never done that…with two men.”

They looked at each other then Frankie said “we’re gonna undress and we’ll see how it goes, ok?”

“Yeah, seems good.”

“If you’re not comfortable with something, you tell us right away, ok? We’re all here to have fun. Ok, darlin’?”

You nodded and smiled. They were so considerate and careful with you. You helped Frankie unzip his pants and take them off, then his boxers, and held your breath when you saw his cock. “We’ll go slow,  baby”. “We?” You widened your eyes and turned to Joel, already in his underwear, taking off his t-shirt. “Oh fuck”, you said when you saw his bulge. You brushed his crotch and he spread his thighs wider. He was so hard, and so big too. You whispered “fuck...” again, before getting on all fours, facing him. You took his cock out of his boxers, the precum glistening on his red tip. You spread it with your thumb and jerked his cock, while Frankie was caressing the roundness of your buttocks, kneeling behind you. You licked the tip, letting Joel’s taste run down your mouth and then your throat.

“You’re ready for me, baby?”

“Yes, Frankie.”

He nestled his cock at your entrance, pushing in. You whined when he thrust deeper, gripping your hips as leverage. And for a minute you didn’t move, Joel’s cock in your hand, catching your breath. Frankie kept thrusting until he bottomed out. Pushing on your walls.  And you started to suck Joel’s cock, his hands on your head, but letting you lead the pace.

You moved your hips back and forth, fucking yourself on Frankie’s cock. He wasn’t moving, letting you lead too. Your mouth on Joel’s shaft followed the movement of your hips at the same pace as you impaled yourself on the cock, piercing you.

“Fuck, fuck. Sucking me so good.”

“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight. So good for my cock.” You loved how they were praising you. Frankie’s hands roamed your body. Your back, your waist, your hips, as your thumbs caressed Joel’s balls, your head still bobbing on his shaft, your lips gradually getting used to his size.

You pulled him out of your mouth and licked his tip, looking at him you asked, “Frankie, will you let Joel fuck me?”

“Of course, anything you want.”

You lay on your back, inviting Joel to come between your thighs. He lay there, his cock in his hand, and pushed in. Frankie lay against you, and turned your face towards him. Kissing you as Joel thrust in.

“Damn, sweetheart…Frankie was right, you’re so tight. Squeezing me so hard, fuck…”

You whined in Frankie’s mouth while Joel was kissing your neck. He thrust in slowly before pulling back. Repeating the movement endlessly, while your legs spread wide gave him full access. Frankie leaned down and took one of your breasts in his hand, sucking on the nipple, his lips wrapped around it. Joel gave you a forehead kiss, his thick cock buried in you. Sometimes Frankie would slide his hand up to your clit, rubbing it lightly, and your pussy would contract on Joel's cock, making him groan. Their mouths and hands were brushing your skin constantly. 

They took turns between your legs, drawing two new orgasms out of you. Seeing them, feeling them fucking you, one then the other, was turning you on desperately and your pussy was weeping. When one of them was kissing you, searching for your tongue with his, the other was kissing your neck, your cheek, sucking a nipple. You loved feeling their mouths on you at the same time.

They fucked you, one then the other, and they never seemed to get tired, filling your pussy perfectly each in their own way. Until you wanted more, and needed more.

“More? Tell us what you want, sweetheart.”

“I want you both…at the same time.”

“Oh, baby. You want our two cocks filling your two holes?” said Frankie, his cock buried in your cunt.

“Yeah, I’d like to try…”

“It’s ok, baby. We’ll go slow.”

“Yeah. Frankie?”

Frankie nodded, pulling out of you. 

“Get on me, sweetheart.”

Joel lay on his back and you straddled him, grabbing his cock and sinking on it. You brushed his cheek and kissed him, before pressing your chest against his, giving free access to Frankie.

He spread your buttocks, your ring was glistening by the wetness that had been flowing there continuously. He passed his thumb slowly, lingering very lightly over it, as you rolled your pelvis slowly towards Joel. Then Frankie leaned down and started to lick it, pointing his tongue against your tight muscle. His hands now gripping your ass, he softened it under the tip of his tongue. Sometimes dropping his saliva on it, and lightly pushing his thumb in. Then a little deeper. He did it patiently, taking his time to prepare you. He was feeling his cock twitching. Your head resting on Joel's shoulder, you were moaning continuously, overwhelmed by the cock in your pussy, and the tongue opening you little by little. They were so hot, they took care of you so well since the start of the evening at the Lagoon. Attentive to your desires, to your reactions. Slightly changing the pace or position depending on your respiration, the pressure of your hands.

Eventually, Frankie pulled away. “You still want it, baby?”

“Yes, yes. Just…go slow, please, Frankie.”

“Of course. Lemme wet my cock in her pussy a little, Joel”, he asked. You pulled away from Joel slightly and he pulled out, his cock rubbing against your clit. Frankie pushed his cock easily in your dripping pussy, fucking it with one hand on your hip, and his thumb on your ass. Joel placed his hand on your neck, his forehead against yours, and murmured “you gonna take us both, sweetheart?”

“Fuck, yeah…Yeah, I’m gonna take you both, oh my god I can’t believe it’s happening…”

Franck grabbed his cock in his hand, and positioned it against your ring.

“Kiss me, sweetheart”, Joel muttured, stroking your hair. You looked up at him, his hands cupping your cheeks before coming to press his lips to yours. Quickly, his tongue sought yours, just as Frankie pushed in. You felt the muscle resisting at first, then gradually giving up. You whined in Joel’s mouth, his tongue never stopping brushing yours. You knew he wanted to make you forget the pain. Then he nibbled one of your lips, before licking it. Kissing you again. Until Frankie bottomed out, his balls against Joel's cock. He didn't stay buried and pulled back as slowly, before thrusting in again.

“Oh, fuck. Baby…it’s so good, fuck…”

“I can feel your cock Frankie, damn…are you ok, sweetheart?”

You nodded, unable to speak. Overwhelmed by all these emotions you were feeling. Your body was in the middle of theirs, and you felt fulfilled. Their hands were all over your upper body. Frankie’s mouth placed a thousand kisses on your shoulder blades and the back of your neck. Joel's hands caressed your breasts, your ass, your thighs. You heard them grunt and moan, in turn or together. You felt a new orgasm building, from rubbing your clit against Joel's lower abdomen.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come”, you whined.

“Come on baby, come again. Fuck, your ass is so good, baby.”

“Come on our cocks, sweetheart. Then we’ll fill you up. We’ll fill that pussy and that ass.”

“Oh fuck”, you whimpered, coming on their cocks, clenching them. You wondered if you hadn’t fainted, for a moment. 

You heard Frankie growling, and Joel calling you a “good girl”, just before he pulsed as deep as possible in you, followed by Frankie. 

You all froze, panting. Catching your breath. Then Frankie pulled back, placing one last kiss on your back. You pulled away from Joel after kissing him, and you lay against him. Frankie lay against you on the other side, spooning you, his hand on your hip. Their cum flowing from both of your sore holes.

You slept there, sometimes waking up during the night, feeling their bodies against yours or their arms around you. Snuggling against one of them then the other. 

When the rays of the sun woke the three of you and Frankie opened the van door, you had a direct view of the ocean. Its color was perfect. The most beautiful blue. And also these pastel, pink colors of the sky, at dawn. 

You spent the day with them. You surfed, took photos. Frankie’s freshly tattooed forearm with the word “adventure.” You looked at them so many times during that day. And every time your eyes met, you all blushed and giggled, thinking about the night you had spent.

You returned to the Lagoon, and didn't leave them until they finally gave up on the idea of going all the way to Southern California. They called you “our girl”. Their hands, tongues and cocks roaming every inch of your body, just as yours on theirs. They stayed with you until they had to return to Texas.

The day before, Frankie went to get another tattoo. Joel told you Frankie always got one at every place they visit, a tattoo of the best thing there. He showed it to you when he came back: a surfboard with your name on it. You hugged him so tight that he could barely breathe and couldn’t stop laughing, squeezed by your arms.

At the airport, they held you until the last minute. And your heart sank when they left.

A few months later, you were sitting at the same airport. Ready to board for Austin. So that they, in turn, could introduce you to their lives.

You looked at the sun through the large windows of the airport, and smiled. Life offers good surprises sometimes. Yours was Joel and Frankie.

***************

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[joelsgreys]

more hearts than mine

Frankie Morales x Female Reader

summary: Frankie promises you he’s not going anywhere.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. no physical description of reader, no mention of her age, reader has both of her parents, reader has a little sister (15 and unnamed), reader has a close relationship with her family (cannot say i am writing this from experience oop), reader is from a small, unnamed town somewhere in the midwest (state not specified), established relationship, mention of ex-boyfriend, mentions of alcohol consumption, reassurance, fluff, smutty themes towards the end but no smut.

word count: 2k

a/n: this was not planned and very spur of the moment. i think i needed a palette cleanse from writing so much joel. it’s my first time writing for frankie but i like the way it turned out. <3 i it’s 3 am, i wrote this in an hour and it is not proofread, so please excuse any errors. this is based on a song called more hearts than mine by ingrid andress.

“It’s late,” you worry. “Where could they be?”

Amused, your mother watches you anxiously pace back and forth in front of the dining room table. “My darling, can you please relax? They probably hit some traffic on their way back home from the lake. I bet you anything those two will be walking through the front door any second now,” she assures you. At that precise moment, her cell phone vibrates on the table, the loud buzzing noise garnering her attention. She picks it up and raises her eyebrows in complete surprise. “Oh. Or maybe not. Your father just texted me and said they’re stopping for a couple of drinks at the bar. He says not to wait up for them.”

Halting mid pace, you whirl around and stare at her. 

“You��re kidding?”

“Nope.” She shows you the text. “See?”

“Jesus,” you mutter. Shaking your head, you drop down into the chair across from hers.

“That’s a pretty good sign. Don’t you think so, honey?”

It is because your father taking your boyfriend out on a fishing trip and then taking him to his favorite bar for drinks afterwards means that their time alone together has gone well. But, even though your father had clearly taken a liking to him, he won’t ever show it. Sure, he’ll buy him dinner and he’ll buy him drinks, he’ll check his tires and take a look underneath the hood of his pickup truck to make sure everything looks good, but he’ll do it with a scowl on his face and a standoffish attitude.

“He hates me, baby. Your old man hates me,” Frankie declared after his first dinner with your family. You had both arrived in your hometown that same evening after a gruelling, sixteen hour drive to the midwest. Despite being exhausted from the trip, he’d put his best foot forward for them—he’d charmed your mother and your little sister, had them both wrapped around his finger by the time dessert had been served. But your father, oh he had been much harder for him to win over. “He barely said two words to me all night.”

“My dad doesn’t hate you,” you swore to him, rubbing a soft, soothing circle into his broad back. “Do you want to know how I know that?”

“How?”

“Because he poured you a drink.”

He’d snorted. “What, and that means he likes me?”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” you joked with a giggle. “It’s still too early to tell if he likes you. But one thing is for sure, he doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t break out a bottle of whiskey for someone he hates, Frankie.”

Sighing, you lift your legs, pulling your knees up to your chest.

Poor Frankie. He’s probably spent the better part of the whole day just trying to figure him out.

“I like him,” your mother says after a minute. “I like him a lot.”

“What a coincidence,” you grin. “I like him a lot too.”

She laughs. “I’m serious! He’s incredible, darling. He is so handsome. He’s sweet. Seems like he’s got a really good head on his shoulders—”

“Are we talking about Francisco?” Your sister walks into the dining room with can of Dr. Pepper in one hand and her cell phone in the other.

“As a matter of fact, we are.” Your mother smiles. “Isn’t he great?”

“He’s kinda perfect, actually.” She takes a casual sip of her soda and raises an eyebrow at you. “I have to admit though, I’m afraid to get attached to Frankie. You know, after what happened with Jake—”

You wince at the mention of your ex-boyfriend’s name.

Your mother hisses her name, angrily.

“I’m just saying! When he broke up with you, it’s like he broke up with all of us. It sucked.” She shrugs, adding, “I mean, even dad was sad about it for months. Wasn’t he, mom?”

“Don’t you have a paper to write?” Your mother glares at her.

Your sister starts towards the staircase, but stops and glances over her shoulder. “I like Frankie,” she tells you, smiling wryly. “And I really hope he sticks around.” With that, she disappears upstairs.

Sighing heavily, your mom turns to you. “Don’t listen to her. She’s only fifteen, she doesn’t know any better. She doesn’t understand what happened—”

Pushing away from the table, you stand up. 

“I’m going to take a walk,” you murmur. “I need some fresh air.”

“Hermosa?”

You stir at the sound of Frankie’s voice.

“Baby. Hey. Wake up.”

“Mm?” you mumble sleepily. “Frankie, what are—ow!”

You groan when he switches on the lamp on the beside table. Rolling over, you bury your face into your pillow.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, chuckling softly. The twin sized mattress squeaks, dipping as he somehow squeezes himself beside you on your childhood bed. He’s staying in the guest room down the hallway—you parents, who were incredibly old school, had insisted the two of you sleep in separate bedrooms during your stay. Draping his arm around you, he leans down and nuzzles into the side of your face. Even with your nose buried in your pillow, you pick up the scent of sunscreen mingled with beer. “Just wanted to tell you I’m back home.”

Lifting your head, you blink furiously until your blurred vision stabilizes.

“What—what time is it?”

“Eleven.” Frankie’s cheeks and nose are red, sunburned from having been out on your dad’s boat all afternoon. You’re willing to bet he’d forgotten to put the sunscreen on his face. Even though you’d warned him a hundred times not to forget.

“What?” You sit up, prompting him to do the same. “It’s eleven and you only now just got back?”

“Your old man took me to Gordon’s,” Frankie explains, referring to one of the only few bars your small town had to offer. It was the place where you would meet with your old high school friends to catch up with each other whenever you were home visiting. At some point this week, you would be sitting in a booth at that old bar with them, introducing Frankie, and squirming when they began to tell him embarrassing stories of all those crazy nights from your senior year. “We went in with plans to have a couple beers before coming home, but then we ran into some of his buddies there. He introduced me, they bought us more drinks, and we played a game of pool. Your dad whooped my ass, of course.”

“How did fishing go?”

“Great. Y’know, once he stopped looking at me like he wanted to throw me overboard.”

You let out an amused huff. “He would never.”

“I don’t know. That man is pretty hard to read.” Frankie reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “One minute we’d be talking, shooting the shit while we waited for the fish to bite, and the next he would look at me like he was seriously thinking about pushing me off his boat and into the water.” He squeezes your hand, a deep laugh rumbling through his chest. “I spent all goddamn day with him and I still can’t tell if he likes me yet or not.”

Lifting his hand, you press a tender kiss to the back of it, a sweet token of affection.

“He likes you, Frankie,” you murmur against his skin. “I know it. My whole family likes you. Except my mom—”

He stiffens. “What?”

“She loves you.”

Frankie turns to you. Despite your smile, he can see the hint of concern in your eyes. “Baby, what’s the matter?”

You hesitate.

After what your sister had said earlier that evening, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d made a mistake and brought him home too soon. You and Frankie had been together for about six months now, and besides having a drawer of your things at his place for when you stayed overnight, you two hadn’t really sat down to talk about what the next step in your relationship would be—you and Frankie hadn’t discussed the possibility of a future together. Truth be told, you had never felt the need to question him about where this was heading. You’d been perfectly content in allowing things to unfold between you without putting any kind of pressure on yourself, or on him. At least, up until now, you had been content.

You’d been silly to think bringing Frankie home to meet your family wouldn’t be all that big of a deal, that it wouldn’t make you consider what came next. But you had forgotten how easily your mother falls in love, how quickly your little sister can form an attachment, and how your father, despite being rough around the edges, feels every heartache you go through as if it’s his own.

You think back to when your previous relationship went down in flames, you remember the helpless look on your father’s face whenever he would see you crying. “I never liked him,” he’d said, pouring himself a glass of whiskey over ice. But that had been a lie. He’d seen him as the son he never had. He lost something, too. Your whole family had to heal from that loss along with you.

Part of you is afraid that it could happen again.

“Amor?”

Frankie’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

You glance down at your hand in his. “Frankie, the last thing I want to do is scare you off,” you start to say, a nervous edge to your tone. “Or put any kind of pressure on you to give me anything more than what you have already given me. But now that you’ve met my family, I can’t help but worry a little bit.”

He frowns. “What are you worried about?”

Sighing, you confess, “My last relationship—it didn’t end very well, Frankie. My family loved him, adored him the way I can see they’re already starting to adore you. When he broke up with me, he broke more hearts than just mine.” You force yourself to look up, and meet his gaze with a wistful smile. “I guess there’s a part of me that’s scared it’ll happen again.”

Frankie’s dark brown eyes soften. “Oh baby, there’s no need to be scared. That’s never gonna happen.”

“How can you be so sure it’ll never happen?”

“Easy, because I love you. And I know you love me.” He reaches over with his free hand and he cups the side of your face, his thumb grazing over the soft skin of your cheekbone. “I’m in this for the long haul. I wouldn’t have driven sixteen hours across the country with you to come meet your family if I wasn’t. I’m serious about you—I’m serious about us, baby.”

Frankie leans in, gently pressing his mouth to yours in a chaste, but sweet kiss.

“Do you wanna know what I see when I look at you?” he mumbles against your lips.

“What do you see?”

“Mi futuro,” he tells you. “I see my future.”

Warmth blossoms in your chest. “You do?”

“I do. Believe me, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, and so is your family,” Frankie grins. “Your dad is gonna have plenty of opportunities to contemplate throwing me off his boat and into the lake.”

You giggle as he kisses you again before trailing his lips down to your neck. “Frankie,” you say his name warningly as he pushes you onto your back. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he says innocently, positioning himself on top of you. He plants his hands on either side of your head and dips his head, nipping lightly at the tender flesh over your pulse point. “How thin are these walls?”

“Francisco Morales, no, you are not fucking me in my parent’s house, not in my childhood bedroom—”

His bulge brushes against your thigh and you gasp.

“Guess I’ll head back to the guest room, then,” Frankie murmurs, feathering one last kiss onto your neck.

He starts to climb off of you and your hands shoot out, curling around fistfuls of his shirt to stop him.

“I can be quiet,” you whisper, biting your bottom lip. You take one of his hands and guide it underneath the hem of the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing to the apex of your thighs. “Can you?”

“Hermosa,” Frankie groans, running a finger along the damp cotton of your panties. He slips it beneath the fabric, his blood rushing south when he meets your slick folds. “God, I fucking hope so, or else I’ll actually end up at the bottom of that fucking lake.”

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

[tightjeansjavi]

worship

A/N: last night..I was hornknee on the main and this was the result

~word count: 1.5k~

Summary: cock worship with Frankie Morales

Pairing | Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: smut with no plot, cock worship, body worship, handjob, mutual masturbation, filthy talk, oral (female receiving) subby!frankie vibes, intimacy, established relationship, fluff, soft!frankie, boyfriend!frankie, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions such as skin color or body type, translated Spanish from both Frankie and the reader. Pet names: querida, cariño, princesa, hermosa. +18 minors dni!

paciencia - patience

No es necesario mi amor - not necessary, my love

es necesario para mí, Frankie - its necessary to me, frankie

tócame, querida. Por favor - touch me, darling. Please.

“Baby, I want tonight to be all about you, okay?” Your boyfriend, Frankie Morales has always been a people pleaser in every aspect. Even though you have reminded him at least 100 times in the bedroom that his pleasure is also important, he always brushes it off and turns the attention back on you.

Well, tonight is going to be different. You’re going to show him just how much he really means to you.

“Hermosa,” he softly rasps. “I feel good when you feel good. You don’t have to provide me with any special attention, baby.”

You lean over his chest and gently press your pointer finger against the seam of his plush lips. “Shh. Please, Frankie. I want to show you just how much I really love you, and your cock.”

He’s stunned to say the least. His brows raise in unison as he brushes his hand across the apex of your bare thighs, stroking his thumb back and forth in a soothing motion. He visibly swallows hard, eyes flitting upwards to meet your gaze. “Querida, No es necesario, mi amor.”

You replace your finger with your lips, kissing him sweetly as your fingers gently skate across the patches of his beard. “es necesario para mí, Frankie.”

He licks into your mouth at a snail's pace so he can really get a taste of you on his tongue while your hand drifts slowly to his lap where his half-hard cock lay beneath the soft confines of his sweats.

“Hard for you already, querida.” His breath catches in his throat when you delicately trace the outline of his cock with the tip of your nail. His hips shift upwards, already desperate for more contact.

“I know, baby.” You smile into the kiss, letting out a breathy, soft sigh when he gradually presses your thighs open further for easier access. The panties adorning your body are a pair that he picked out himself, and you looked so beautiful in them.

“Can we keep these on, princesa?” He hums, low and deep as his fingers toy with the little pink bow at the hem of your panties. “The lace looks so pretty on you, baby.” He hooks his thumb through the elastic and snaps it back playfully, eliciting giggle to slip past your lips while your own fingers trail upwards, drawing patterns through the dark, coarse hair on his happy trail. His stomach clenches inwards from your feather light touch.

“Cariño.” You coo, “This night is about you, Frankie. If you’d like for me to keep them on, then I’ll keep them on for you.” You lightly gasp into the connected kiss when his fingers slowly glide upwards against the covered seam of your pussy. He breaks the kiss away momentarily, only so he can glance down and see just how wet you’ve grown for him already. He licks his lips, wetting them before he’s drawn back to his own pleasure as you nip playfully at the junction where his neck meets his collarbone. Teeth graze his bronzed skin as you bite down, drawing blood to the surface. His head tilts to the side to allow you better access to his skin. His lashes flutter shut, lips parting as he moans softly.

You trail your lips further, teasing, biting at his collarbones, and slide your hand southwards. His cock twitches in excitement as you make quick work of pushing his sweats down just enough to free his cock.

His hot breath fans your face when one large hand comes to grasp your jaw, pulling your face back upwards to his lips to meet in a bruising kiss.

“tócame, querida. Por favor.” He whimpers through the kiss, hips bucking upwards when he doesn’t immediately feel your soft touch.

There isn’t a minute in the day where Frankie doesn’t yearn for you, and your touch. He thinks about you morning, afternoon, night, and even in his dreams.

“Paciencia.” You tsk playfully under your breath and slowly slide your hand down the underside of his cock, feeling every vein and ridge beneath the soft pads of your fingertips.

He huffs through his nose, a chuckle vibrating up his chest as he shakily inhales your tongue licking into his mouth. “That’s my line, querida.”

“Hush, baby. Let me take care of you, Frankie. Let me take care of you and your pretty cock.” You drop your hand further, gently cupping his balls, squeezing them delicately, earning another breathy moan to escape his lips.

His head slowly falls back against the plush pillows. If his eyes weren’t shut in bliss already, they would be rolling back into his skull. His fingers begin to toy with your covered clit in languid, circular motions. He loves playing with you like this, feeling your slickness begin to build, and your pussy flutter.

“I’m so fucking hard for you, cariño. And your pretty pussy is so wet for me.” He’s already salivating for a taste, to bury his head between your thighs and delve into his favorite meal of the day; you.

“Feels so good, Frankie.” You praise him adoringly. “Does it turn you on when I say that you have such a pretty cock? It’s so beautiful, cariño. You’re so beautiful.” You gush, kissing him deeper as his hand cradling your face pulls you in even closer. If he could, he’d crawl inside of you and stay there forever.

“Fuuck.” He skin flushes from your words, cheeks turning ruby red, heart swelling in his chest as his thumb gently strokes your jawline. “Tell me I have a pretty cock again, please.”

You drag your hand upwards once more, hand wrapping around the base of his cock as you slowly twist your wrist in a corkscrew motion. You can feel him growing harder in your palm as your thumb swipes across the ruddy head, collecting pearls of precum that have begun to leak and dribble down the underside of his shaft.

“You have the prettiest cock I have ever seen, Frankie.”

His hips buck upwards into your hand pathetically as he whimpers your name over, and over again.

His mental state is at the most vulnerable, yet he has never felt more safe than with you. His lips break away from the kiss, a string of saliva keeps you both connected for a moment, like an invisible string. His head tilts down, cheek resting against the crook of your shoulder, hot breath kisses your skin as he lets himself fully indulge in unabashed pleasure.

“I’m so lucky to have you, cariño. Y-you’re so beautiful, and good to me.” He chokes out, teeth grazing your shoulder as he bites down. His fingers on your pussy begin to pick up their pace, wanting you to feel the same level of pleasure that he is experiencing. His attention stays focused on your clit, and between the steady pressure, and the fabric adding friction, you’re close to hitting your own high.

“You’re so pretty, Frankie. Always so pretty, but even more when you’re on the edge of coming.” You whisper as your freehand rests along his bare shoulder, before slowly sliding into his hair, playing with the soft curls at the back of his head, nails scraping at his scalp.

Perspiration has already begun to build and pool along his bronzed skin. Shiny, wet, slick, needy.

He bites down on your shoulder harder, drawing blood to the surface, eyes squeezed shut, whimpers falling against your skin.

“Oh fuck. I’m going to come, querida. I’m—I'm so close, baby.” He groans as you pump your wrist faster, feeling his cock tense and pulse around your palm.

“Good boy, Cariño. Come for me, Frankie.” You breathlessly request, and he obeys, letting himself go, crying out your name as he paints your hand and his bare stomach in his release.

His softened cock laid still against his stomach, chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to catch his breath. You kissed him sweetly, brushing a few stray curls that were stuck to his forehead with sweat.

His eyes were hooded as he watched your lips descend down his body, between his pecs, down his stomach. You dragged your tongue through his release, lapping every drop up from his sweat stained skin before his strong arms were pulling you back up to his face.

Even in his post-orgasm haze, his kisses were desperate as he tasted himself along your tongue.

“My turn.” He whispered and grabbed ahold of the hem of your ruined panties and yanked them down in a haste.

You couldn’t help but giggle when you felt his curls tickle the inside of your thighs, and the light, gentle scrape of his patchy beard against your sensitive skin.

He spelled his name out against your clit, over and over again, till you positively had nothing left to give him.

In the midst of it all, he found himself growing hard again, and eager, very eager, but now he focused on worshiping you, the same way you worshiped him. He came again with his hips rutting into the comforter as you leaked onto his tongue.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

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[theywhowriteandknowthings]

frankie is a long time friend of a friend/runs in the same circles as you, and you both have a hate boner for one another. it all comes to a head bc he's the only one in the group chat who answers your call for aid when your [insert some busted appliance/plumbing fixture] and you're going to either fight, fuck or fumble this night.

WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE.

You ask, ye shall recieve. Thank you "nonnie" ;)

This blog is a 18+ space, Minors, do not engage. If you are under the age of 18 you are not welcome here. Your reading and consumption of my work is your responsibility but I will endeavour to mitigate any discomfort for you, the reader, as possible. Once again, this is a 18+ space and minors should not interact. Specific warnings: Enemies to Lovers, Angst, alcohol consumption, drug addiction, coke addiction, Frankie being mean/an asshole, Whiny Frankie Supremacy, weed smoking (medicinal), Ken Burns?, Country Music?, pining, angst, M!Masturbation, sub!Frankie.

Thank you @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for beta-ing this real quick. Word count: 2.3k  

Frankie Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3

Frankie pops his first beer of the night as he starts the next episode of the Ken Burns ‘Country Music’ documentary. He started it out of sheer lack of something better to do a few nights back, but now he’s hooked. He’s ready to settle in for the night, rolling a joint as a new message in the group chat comes in.

He checks it, only to see its you.

He locks his phone and turns it over; no way is he entertaining your bullshit tonight.

~*~

You sit there for what seems like forever, not a soul answering your cry for help in the group chat. You know it’s Friday night, you know everyone is likely to have plans, but the way water has flooded your kitchen is no joke.

So much for the joys of home ownership.

You lament as you wish there was a super contractually obliged to fix this mess. But it’s a week away from your next paycheque and you cannot afford to call in an emergency plumber. You’re about to give in and get your credit card out when a message comes through.

~*~

The credits roll at the end of the documentary and Frankie hums in approval, he realises he’s barely touched his beer, and his joint is similarly untouched, long gone out. He’s ready to put the next episode on and re-light as his modest buzz settles him into the recliner. Since quitting coke he’s found weed to be a welcome mellow fix that never tempts him too far but lets him mute the cravings otherwise. It has meant he’s gained a few pounds from all the munchies, but he takes that as a win. He was getting too skinny and working out is near impossible when so under-fuelled.

Absently he checks his phone again and his stomach drops.

No-one has answered your call for help, it’s been almost two hours. He shouldn’t care, the two of you butt heads on everything, you’re the Lex Luthor to his Superman. He hates you, at least, that’s what he tells himself. You challenge him in a way the other guys don’t. You don’t take his bullshit.

He swipes the message across to reveal the “Seen” tab, and his stomach drops. Everyone in the group chat has seen it, Alyssa, Barry, Benny, Santi, Will… the list goes on. There’s a pang of guilt in his gut as he realises just how desperate you must be right now.

He grumbles as he turns off the TV and snaps his lighter shut, putting his ashtray and joint aside. He’ll be damned if he leaves you hanging like this, no matter how much he claims to hate you.

~*~

You pace your hallway, waiting for the bane of your existence to arrive. You’re trying to put on a brave face, trying to ignore the coil in your gut. You play it off as anxiety, but you know it’s more than that.

You’re nervous because as much as you try and hate Frankie, he always gets under your skin. You’re always left wondering what his scruff would feel like on your skin, grazing your jaw, your neck. You hate Francisco Morales, but only as much as you secretly find him hotter than the sun.

He’s not a bad guy, you know he’s struggled with addiction, you know he and the guys saw some shit in the military. But there’s a rudeness reserved only for you when it came to social gatherings and interactions in the group chat.

You’d initially put it down to you being a new addition to the group – by way of Santi – after you two hit it off at a quiz night last year. But in that year, he has only seemed to close you off more and more. You’re almost at the point of looking for a new group of friends, if you’re completely honest with yourself. And you resent him for it.

You’re jolted from your thoughts as a fist pounding on your front door signals his arrival.

I have a doorbell asshole.

You grumble inwardly, but you tell yourself to play nice, Frankie’s doing you a favour here.

“Coming!”

You pause at the door, not wanting to seem too eager as you feel a nervous flutter in your stomach. You take a deep breath and swing it open to reveal Frankie in all his glory. Your chest constricts as you feel the inevitable bloom of desire in your core.

He’s wearing a floral pink and white Hawaiian shirt with a dark tank underneath that stretches across his soft belly. His sinful calves are on display under his tan cargo shorts and you try not to ogle him further as you welcome him into your home.

“Hey, thanks for doing this,” you start as he steps over the threshold, eyeing up your house with a methodical gaze, “Look, I know we’re not-,”

“Don’t worry about it, just show me where the sink is.”

He cuts you off, not looking at you as he speaks, and you bristle at his tone. It’s like he’s speaking down to a child, scolding you no less.

“This way,” you snap as you lead him into the kitchen and gesture at the sink, the cabinets below open ready for him. You feel his gaze on you. It makes you squirm, but you do your best to ignore the pooling of arousal in your panties.  

“You turn the water off?” Frankie asks as he notices the multiple bath towels on the floor, sodden in your failed attempt to try and dry the place out. You’re just glad the kitchen is tiled.

“Yup.”

“Good,” he says almost to himself as he strips off his shirt, throwing it onto a countertop before getting on his knees. You prop yourself against the counter and wait, trying very hard not to stare as he gets on his back. He bends his knees to brace himself as he grabs the adjustable wrench that you’d been battling the U-bend with for the last hour. You try not to imagine how he’d look similarly stretched out on your sheets upstairs.

“Ok so good news, it’s not the U-bend,” Frankie says with a huff as he pops the entire faucet unit up and out of the basin, he rolls up onto his feet. You’re a little annoyed that he was able to determine the issue in minutes after you had spent over an hour googling and trying to fix it yourself.

“Oh?”

You are genuinely curious, so you push off from the counter to see what Frankie’s doing. He holds up the underside of the faucet, showing you a broken rubber ring sat at the neck of the mechanism. His shoulder brushes yours and you feel the fizzle of heat under your skin. Your heart flutters and you think he’s going to move away at the contact, but he seems only to lean in further.

He smells good. A faint hint of weed, which you know he has a prescription for, and his cologne, earthy and rich. It blends together into a smell you know by heart, something so uniquely Frankie, it makes you salivate. You hate how much you want a man who seemingly thinks so little of you.

“This happened to me last month,” he explains as he brings the offending washer into your eyeline, “Damn contractors used cheap fittings so they’re all going, Santi’s went last week.”

“So, I need a new tap? It’s that simple?” You groan in frustration, you’d been ready to spend hundreds of dollars to get this fixed, and here’s Frankie swooping in to save the day.

“Yup, but you’re not likely to get anything now,” Frankie looks at his phone, it’s way too late to be getting something decent. His eyes flick up to meet yours and you see his pupils dilate. There’s something in his deep, sinfully dark eyes that makes you wonder if you’ve been wrong about his feelings towards you all this time. But you avert your gaze, you’re probably just reading into things too heavily.

“Yeah, shit,” you sigh, “At least I’ve got bottled water, so I won’t die of thirst.”

“I can come by tomorrow to pick up and fit a new one if you want?”

The offer is out of Frankie’s mouth before he can stop it, his good nature tumbling out in an unusual display of kindness towards you. You furrow your brow, shocked by the sudden good will from him. It makes you nervous.

“Why’re you being nice to me all of a sudden?” You scoff, something about Frankie being so cold to you for the last year, only to play nice when you’re in distress makes your stomach turn. Like he’s trying to take advantage – or worse – pitying you.

“You needed help and no-one else was responding so I thought it was the right thing to do.”

He grumbles bitterly as he turns his back to you grabbing his shirt from the counter and hastily pulling it on as he turns to leave.

“You could have just left me hanging,” you snap, “What’s different today? Is it so you can lord this over me? Saving the poor little damsel in distress, another tool with which you can ridicule me with?”

“Ridicule you?” Frankie snaps, turning to face you, his face pained as if you’d struck him with a physical blow.

“Don’t play dumb,” you growl as you square up to him, “I hear the snide comments you make about me when we’re out with the others. Desperate this, lonely that.”

Frankie winces, he remembers exactly what you’re talking about now. That night months ago at a club in Orlando. You were dancing with someone you’d met at the bar, and he’d gotten jealous. He brushed it off to Will and Alyssa, going on the offensive instead of letting slip that he’d have done anything for it to be him you were grinding against. He just didn’t know you’d heard him as you went to get another drink.

“That was one time,” he growls but it’s a weak rebuttal and he knows it, “I was in a bad place.”

You know that; you know he was only a few months sober. He wasn’t in a good place when he first met you. But that’s no excuse to continue to treat you like he has ever since.

“Sure, but ever since you’ve looked at me like I don’t belong,” you hold his gaze, even as your eyes start to fill with tears, “Always dismissing my comments, rolling your eyes if I dare speak up in your presence, it gets tiring Frank- Francisco. You don’t have to like me, but they’re my friends too, don’t make me lose them just because you can’t stand me.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way I swear.”  

“Yeah well, save it,” you say, pointing to the door, “I don’t need you to save me Francisco, and I sure as hell don’t need your pity. Get out of my house.”

“That’s not how it is, I promise,” he pleads but you’re not looking at him now, your cheeks are hot with embarrassment and you’re trying not to say something you’ll regret.

“Please, just leave,” you snap as you feel tears welling in your eyes.

“Yeah, ok.”

Frankie sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair, he brushes past you, and you hear a soft “I’m sorry.” As the door clicks shut behind him.

You feel your body tremble with rage as you find yourself unable to process the whole interaction. You pull out your phone and message the group chat.

You: Crisis averted.

You think you should add that it was Frankie who helped, but you’re feeling petty. All he did was show you the problem, he didn’t actually fix anything.

If anything he made things so much worse.

~*~

Frankie slumps back down in his recliner but he doesn’t turn the TV back on. Instead, he sits in silence and broods. He re-reads your message to the group chat and scowls. He has no right to be mad, not really, he knows that. But he really wishes he’d dealt with the situation better.

He looks down to his tented shorts and curses himself, the moment he showed you the faucet you were so close to him. The moment your arms touched he felt the rush of desire he suppresses every time he sees you. Now he’s worried he’s fucked it up completely. He can still smell you, the scent your bodywash he’s committed to memory now clings to his skin.  

He forces himself upstairs and into the shower, running it ice cold, just to try and make his erection go away. But it doesn’t help. He’s painfully hard as he tries to think of anything else.

All he can think of is the way your skin felt against his, the way you called him Francisco. It was meant to spurn him, but he loved it. The way his name rolled off your tongue with derision. It’s all he can think of as he turns on the hot water and grips his cock. He pumps himself slowly as he feels the hot burn in his gut, he’s already so fucking close.

“Fuck,” he groans under the hot stream, “I’m sorry.”

He growls as he fucks himself harder to the thought of you putting him in his place. He’s never considered himself a sub, but it’s all he can think of now. He’s whimpering as he fucks his fist faster and faster at the memory of you chewing him out. He deserved it, and that makes it all the sweeter.

He wants you to make him suffer. Atone.

He comes with a whine as his spend splatters against the tiles and slowly washes away down the drain. He pants desperately for some time before washing himself off. He heads back downstairs to re-light his joint and watch another episode of his documentary. On a need-fuelled whim he texts you.

Frankie: If you want me to fix your sink, let me know, I’m free all day.

Frankie Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3

[undercoverpena]

spell out miss you against my skin

frankie morales x f!reader

gif credit to @perotovar - thank you bby 🩷

summary: frankie is back now, and he wants to make you feel good.

wordcount: 1.1k warnings: 18+ smut. oral (receiving) <- lots, because he has a good mouth and a need to please and i was horny. frankie also has a lot of inches. we established in this, but how so? you'll have to see muhahahah.

Six months he'd been gone.

Six months of phone calls, webcam dates, and longing, and now he was finally on his way back to you. To his home. Your home. The one you both chose, the one he's been away from for so long. Sleeping in a bed different from the one you bought together, brushing his teeth in a bathroom he hadn't retiled, using towels he hadn't chosen.

It had been important, you knew that. When the work offer came, those brown eyes looked at you, held your hand, cupped your cheek: Say the word, querida, and I won't take it.

You hadn't said the word, both for the opportunity he'd been given and because of the new kitchen he promised you.

None of it mattered now. Not when you'd felt his hands slide across your thighs, parting your knees.

When you'd seen his eyes turn glassy, blown with lust, swallowed by it as he licked his lips at the sight of the evidence of how much you'd missed him.

He'd dug his fingers into your calves, flattened his mouth to the inside of your left knee, whispered again how much he'd missed you. Pressed it to your skin, traced it up your inner thighs, wiry beard scratched it against softness before he whispered it again. And again, and again—

You almost whined when he placed a kiss at the top of your thigh, breath blown out across your slick core. Brief memories of the night before came to you. How you'd teased; how you'd intentionally stripped for the call, taunting knowing he wanted to wait, and not have you talk him through it one final time. I've only had my fingers, Frankie. You'll have to take your time. His groan had made your hips buck just at the thought of it. That and the deep gravel of his voice through the speaker, I’ll get you ready for me, querida.

And you'd believed him. Now you were seeing the proof of it.

Your toes curling, digging into your mattress as he taps your ankles to remain flat on the bed. There’s sweat sticking to the back of your thighs, knees, shoulder blades—skin clinging to the bedsheets as his lips remain latched to your clit, with three of his fingers working themselves inside of you.

You know you’re going to come again. Make another mess. Just like he wants—

Come in my mouth, hermosa. Wanna taste you. 'missed you, querida.

Slick and spit making a mess of the sheets, your chest heaving, panting, and you're aware of how you're dripping, gushing for him. Conscious, in some ways, of the sounds you're making, the vulgar and sinful ones your body is producing. And it turns you on more.

An old version of yourself would have been ashamed.

But not this version. The one loved, doted and admired by him; the one who has never felt more attractive than you do right now. Just from the way he groans, the way he moans right into your pussy, his hips grinding against the pillow on the end of the bed.

The sight makes you light-headed. That and the eager way he laps up everything you're giving him. The obscene sounds blend with your moan as his fingers curl inside of you, making you clench, grind against him.

You feel nothing but bliss.

Back arching, pussy grinding against his touch, his tongue, his entire face as your fingers grasp at his curls, soaked in sweat from determination, perseverance and effort.

—just wanna make you feel good, querida—

Mouth hanging open, you find no sound escapes. Lost, never wanting to be found as his tongue flicks and then flattens, as it presses harder against your swollen nerves and makes you buck your hips.

Almost ready to find your body burning in that electric way he somehow always makes you feel. Over the phone, miles away and now, here, at his mercy, tongue laving and swirling. Moaning and hissing—

Then he sucks and your entire body tenses.

You can hear him, distant, like you've been plunged underwater—

That’s it, squeeze my fingers, querida.

He croons it into your pussy. Likely smirking, beard and lips stained with your arousal and desperation.

You don't care. Not as you fall apart. As pleasure floods through you all over again and another moan-cry-whine hybrid of his name rips from your throat as you gush. Your body twitches, tenses, thighs fucking shaking before you admit defeat and collapse back to the bed as he soothes.

As his face eases from between your clenched thighs and stares up at you like you're a goddess, when it's him you suspect is a god.

You're only able to blink the spots from your eyes when his mouth meets yours. Your body more liquid than solid; lips barely reciprocating his movements, when he asks you:

Can I fuck you? Can I make you feel good?

You want to argue that it’s all he has been doing. Your body wrecked, thoroughly worshipped from it.

But you nod. Biting his lower lip as he chuckles, watching as he leans back on his knees, hand wrapping around his hard cock.

"You're gorgeous, Frankie."

He snorts, chin lifting, eyes closing as he strokes himself. Your gaze drops to his hand, catching sight of the metal band on his left hand that glides up and down his cock. His tip leaks as your eyes take in each impressive inch that makes up your husband as you lick your lips.

As you part your legs a little further for him.

As you run your fingers over your breasts, pushing them together, making him moan before he slides a hand over your thigh to get you to stop.

"Gonna fuck me?"

Nodding, "Gonna fuck you, querida. That what you want?"

Yes. Yes. And yes, and yes you cry as he lines himself at your slit. As he teases the tip from hole to clit.

"Need you, esposo."

His groan reverbs around the room. "Yeah?"

Nodding, you bite down on your lip, raising your hands above your head, crossing them at the wrist. Just for him. All for him. "Ruin me, esposo."

Frankie groans, deep in the back of his throat, before he slides each inch in one deep thrust, mouth latching to yours as he swallows the moan you both emit in unison.

dedicated to @thetriumphantpanda who never minds when I message her and go “wanna hear my brain rot”

those who expressed interest: @thesluttylittleknee @wordywarriorwrites @luxurychristmaspudding @hellfire-state-of-mind

@gingerspjce @socklessria @eh-nothanks @naranjoenflor @sheepdogchick3

@fictional-men-have-my-heart @theshipissinking8

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Maybe, Baby?

Summary: You and Frankie aren't trying for a baby just yet, but when your weird symptoms start to throw your body for a loop, you start to wonder if you actually might be pregnant

Pairing: Husband!Frankie Morales x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), Unprotected p in v sex (wrap before u tap, silly gooses), creampie, praise kink, size kink (if u squint), unintentional breeding kink (lmaoooo, it's me, sorry not sorry), birth control/family planning, pregnancy (or maybe not? part 2 maybe? hehe) symptoms, Frankie and reader mention being closer to 30 than 16 (turns out when you're an adult, it's not a teen pregnancy anymore), reader has hair that can be played with, Frankie being the sweetest husband alive (all the gold stars for him), Frankie is so excited to be a dad that I just may pass away

A/N: I know y'all voted for me to finish chapter 20 but i lied (I'm so sorry), but I wrote this in a day and husband Frankie was really speaking to me on this one 😭 This one is brought to you by my raging baby fever and perhaps some real life inspiration WHOOPS, art imitating life on this one ig 💀 Poorly beta'd bc that's how I roll!!!

Ever since getting off birth control a few months ago, your body had felt… different. 

While you were glad you had made the change for yourself, you still found yourself shocked every month when a new sort of symptom decided to appear at some point in your cycle that you had never dealt with before- acne in new places, weird cramps, and crazy mood swings that showed up out of nowhere before your period were just a few of the things you were learning to manage as you figured out your body post birth control. 

Another symptom you hadn’t expected was that now, you were insatiably horny. 

All the time. 

While Frankie had been more supportive and caring in helping you deal with all of your not so pleasant symptoms than you could have hoped for, he was also more than happy to help you with your newly found positive one, too. 

The only problem was, after so many years of not having to worry about the consequences of your sex life on birth control, you and Frankie were finding it very hard to adjust to be more… careful. 

As you got hornier and hornier, the box of condoms that Frankie had bought after you stopped taking the pill had been seeing less and less use, and to be honest, hadn’t really seen the light of day from the back of his nightstand drawer in about a month an a half- and if you were being even more honest, on top of that, Frankie’s pull out game was almost nowhere to be found. 

You both knew that you wanted a family in the future- That was a part of your reason for getting off birth control to begin with. The two of you had agreed to hold off at least for a little longer to try and get your life more in order before bringing a baby into it, but with with your new lack of protection when it came to sex, and constant horniness around the clock, you both were beginning to have a feeling that that your agreed upon timeline for having a baby might be harder for you to maintain that you thought. 

Especially when you found yourself morphing into an unspeakably horny monster when you were ovulating. 

So little did you realize, that as you were brushing your teeth in the bathroom as the two of you were getting ready for bed and you caught a glimpse in the mirror of Frankie, stripping out of his shirt and jeans, leaving him only in his boxers as he searched around in your dresser for pajamas, that was the reason you nearly spit out your entire mouthful of toothpaste to try and get a mouthful of something else. 

You couldn’t help but ogle at your husband's broad body and freckled tan skin, muscles flexing as he shuffled through your drawers, pulling out an old, worn gray t-shirt and tugging it over his head, running his hand through his messy, curly hair before searching for his pajama bottoms.

At this point, you had honestly braced yourself on the edge of the bathroom counter to keep yourself from falling over at how mouth-watering he looked, already feeling the wetness beginning to pool in the cotton of your underwear at the thought of wanting to rip his clothes off just as fast as he had put them on. 

Letting out a yawn, Frankie raised his hands above his head so a sliver of his soft belly peaked out between his waistband and shirt hem before making his way into the bathroom, sleepily padding along the tile floor until his body was behind yours, chest flushed against your back and arms wrapped around your waist. Even more prevalent, his bulge pressed against your ass, making the wet spot in your underwear grow damper by the second. 

“You ready for bed, querida?” Frankie cooed, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder and smiling at your reflections in the mirror. 

While you were absolutely ready to get into bed, sleeping was not going to be your activity of choice.  

“I think that maybe…” You paused, turning around to face Frankie, his body caging yours against the counter, palms splayed flat on either side of your hips, looking down at you with his sweet, brown eyes, “I think that maybe we should do something else before we go to sleep.” 

“Something else, huh?” Frankie smirked, raising his eyebrows at you as your hands began to run up and down his arms, slightly squeezing the muscles of his biceps as your fingers crept under the fabric of his shirt sleeves. “And what might that something else be, Hermosa?” 

“You know exactly what it is, Fransisco. You expect me to watch you just roam around shirtless in our bedroom and not get all hot and bothered? God, you’re so fucking hot.” You moaned, letting your hands run up his shoulders and around his neck, pulling him in for a long, electric kiss. 

“Damn, what’s gotten into you, babe?” Frankie chuckled, trying his best not to blush at your comment, sliding his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“I don’t- Fuck, I don’t know, I just know that if you don’t fuck me right this second, I think I’m gonna explode.” 

While your statement may have had a flair for the dramatic, it was just about as close to the God’s honest truth as you could get- You were so worked up, you felt practically feral, the ache in your core so strong that you really did feel like you were on the verge of implosion. 

Before you even gave Frankie time to respond, your lips were crashing into his with a ferocious intensity, your hands grabbing fistfulls of his t-shirt as you stumbled back towards your bedroom, bodies bumping and bouncing against the walls and door frames, mouths never parting as the back of Frankie’s knees finally hit the mattress, forcing him to fall backwards onto the bed. 

Crawling overtop of him, you were already straddled over his hips, grinding your bottom half on the bulge growing in his pajamas as your hands crept under the hem of his t-shirt, running along the tanned, soft skin of his chest, making him let out a low groan that rumbled in his throat. 

Frantically shuffling himself further onto the bed, Frankie’s hands dug into your hips and over your ass as your hands slid down from his chest to his waistband, fingers tugging at the elastic to shuffle his bottoms and boxers down his legs, quickly followed by your own, dropping to a crumpled pile on the floor. 

Feeling your fingers wrap around his cock, already painfully hard, you swirled the precum leaking from his tip with your thumb before dragging your hand up and down his length, leaving Frankie sitting up in surprise while he watched you begin to hover over him, dragging his dick through your folds. 

“Hermosa, are you sure you don’t need me to-” But before Frankie could finish the rest of his protest to make sure you were ready to take him, you were already sinking down onto him, whimpering at the sweet sting and stretch of his fullness, followed by the ragged moan escaping Frankie’s lips. 

“Oh fuck… Nuh uh, Frankie. I need to feel you, baby. Needed to feel you inside me.” You whined, taking Frankie cock inch by inch until he had bottomed out inside you, his tip kissing your cervix, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure. 

Normally with Frankie’s size, you would have needed to warm you up first, but with how wet and worked up you already were, you were able to take him with ease, desperate to feel him buried deep inside you. 

“Jesus fucking christ, queirda, you’re so fucking wet. Fuck, baby.” Frankie moaned, feeling you begin to slide up and down his length, coating him with your arousal with each swirl of your hips. 

Arching your back, you jutted your hips forward, bracing your hands on Frankie’s strong thighs, circling your bottom half against his, whimpering at his fullness and the hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your clit, selfishly already longing to chase your own high to ease the ache that had been burning in your core. 

“Fuck, Frankie, you feel so good. Feel so fucking full with you in me.” You whimpered, bouncing even harder and faster on Frankie’s cock, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping his and wetness dripping from your heat coating the walls of your bedroom. 

“Yeah? This what you wanted, pretty girl? Wanted me to stretch this pretty little pussy out and fill you up?” Frankie groaned, gritting his teeth as he began to jut his hips up into yours as you rode him, the added depth of his thrusts making you cry out in pleasure. 

And for as fucking good as it felt, the horny monster you had morphed into had you greedily craving more- to have Frankie stretch you open in a way that had you seeing stars, so much that you could still feel the next day, long after the two of you were finished. 

“I-I want more, p-please, baby. Fuck- Fuck me harder, Fransisco.” You cried, your sweet voice whimpering his full name turning him almost as feral as you were, letting out a low growl as he grabbed you by your hips, flipping you so that your back hit the mattress and he was caging his broad body over yours. 

Practically ripping the t-shirt still covering your upper half off your body, Frankie dove face first between your breasts, groping one while hungrily sucking at the other, flicking your pebbled nipple with his tongue, his free hand reaching down to line his cock back up with your entrance, sliding back in to your aching core with ease. 

Frankie let himself sink all the way back in, filling you to the brim before hooking his arms around your knees, pressing your legs against your stomach, smirking to himself at the ragged moan you let out as the new angle opened you up even further. 

“You want me to fuck you harder, Hermosa?” Frankie mewled, slowly dragging his length out of your heat, looking down to see your shiny slick soaking his cock before looking back at you and the wrecked expression plastered across your face, frantically nodding in desperation. “Tell me how badly you want it, sweet girl.” 

“Fuck, I need you so bad, Fransisco, please.” You begged, damn near close to tears with how deeply you needed to feel Frankie ease the emptiness inside you. “Please, baby, I- oh fuck-”  

Before you could even finish the rest of your plea, your breath was already hitched in the back of your throat as Frankie began to pound into you at a relentless pace, tightening his grip around your thighs while he pressed them closer to your chest, grunting with each rut of his hips into yours. 

“This what you want, querida? Meirda- so fucking wet and tight, baby girl. You feel so fucking good, holy fuck.” 

It didn’t take long for the all too familiar tingle at the base of your spine to start spreading through your body like a wildfire as Frankie continued to slam into your g-spot, making you chant his name like a prayer, your brain at a loss for any other words than “Fuck, Fransisco.” 

And as if you already weren’t close enough, when Frankie reached down to thumb at your clit, rubbing in relentless circles against your sensitive nub, you knew you were a fucking goner. 

“That’s it, Hermosa. Cum for me, baby. Want that- oh fuck- want that prefect pussy to fucking soak me.” Frankie groaned, feverishly pounding into you, desperate to feel you come undone for him giving him long enough to fight off his own high that was rapidly building in the pit of his stomach. 

A few more thrusts were all it took to have the coil snapping in your belly, crying out Frankie’s name as you came, orgasm ripping through your body with a blinding intensity, eyes scrunching shut and jaw hanging open while pleasure and euphoria flowed through every ounce of you. 

Still blissed out and wrecked out of your mind, your eyes shot open as Frankie’s mouth crashed into yours, swallowing your whimpers and moans in a messy dance of tongues and teeth. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty when you cum. Jesus fuck-  fuck, I’m close too, baby. W-where do you want me, Hermosa?” Frankie asked, barley holding on long enough for you to answer, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier as his hips began to stutter, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brow with every ounce of self control he had left. 

Still barley coherent enough to form a sentence, your brain blurted out the only thing you could think of, and the only thing that you really wanted in the moment. 

“Inside, Fransisco. Fuck, cum inside me, baby.” 

That alone was almost enough to send Frankie over the edge, letting out a long, low groan, sloppily rutting into you as his brain went blank alongside yours, starting to babble incoherently. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck- you want me to fill you up, queirda? Fuck, I’ll fucking fill you up so good you’ll be dripping out of me for days. Oh fuck, shit baby, fuck, oh I’m gonnaahhhhhh-“ 

Just like that, Frankie took one last thrust, spilling deep inside you, coating your walls with his spend as his body slumped into yours, the pair of your chests rising and falling in sync as you both came back down to earth. 

“Jesus Christ… Holy fuck, Frankie.” You giggled quietly to yourself, blissfully filled with post orgasm ecstasy as your husband carefully pulled himself out before rolling over next to you on the bed, pulling you close against his chest. 

“Fuck me, Hermosa, holy shit.” Frankie chuckled, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead, tracing small circles on your back as he held you, heat radiating off of each other's sweat-ridden bodies. “God, I love you. We should probably get you cleaned up. You wanna shower?” He asked, smirking as your face lit up at his nearly rhetorical question. 

“Only if you’re up for round 2, Morales.”   

“My eyes are up here, Fransisco.” 

“Hmmm? What did you say?” 

“Exactly my point. Can you stop looking with your man eyes and look with your normal, helpful people eyes to help me decide on a dress for Benny and Victoria’s wedding?” You sighed, laughing to yourself as you raised an eyebrow at Frankie, his gaze still fixed on your chest. 

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll be helpful.” Frankie huffed, overdramatically rolling his eyes at you, playfully throwing his hands up in defense as he leaned back against the dressing room door, looking you up and down in one of the cute floral dresses you had picked to try on for your friends’ upcoming wedding. “It’s just that… Nevermind.” 

“It’s just that what, Frank?” You asked tilting your head in confusion at your husband as his eyes traveled back to your breasts, furled look in his brow like he was really staring there to prove a point. 

“It’s just that- Baby, I don’t know if it’s just the dress or what, but your boobs look huge. Like, they always look good, believe me, but like… Whew.” Frankie whistled, practically shaking his head in disbelief at how good you looked. 

“Really?” You asked, turning around to face the mirror in the dressing room, gently cupping your breasts, grimacing as you held them in your hands. “Yeah, I guess they do… Honestly, I was gonna complain about how sore they’ve been all day. I wonder if maybe my period is just coming early?” 

“Maybe? You did ride me pretty hard the last couple nights and put on a good show, so maybe they hurt from all that bouncing and-” 

“Frankie! We are in public!” You playfully scolded, giving him a flimsy slap to the chest to cut off the rest of his thought, the two of you quietly giggling to yourselves and trying to “Shhhh” each other from drawing too much attention to your dressing room stall. “The dress, you goofball, yes or no? Sooner we pick, the sooner we can go get food, because your wife is starving.” 

“I vote yes on the dress. You look beautiful in it, querida.” Frankie smiled, stepping behind you to press a kiss on the side of your head. 

“You just like it because it makes my boobs look huge.” 

“What? Can you blame me for wanting to stare at my gorgeous wife’s boobs all night?” 

“God, you are ridiculous, Fransisco. Fine, boob dress wins. Now let’s get out of here and go get some food before you get stuck in a titty trance and I die of hunger.” 

While the rest of your Saturday was spent enjoying the delicious Mexican food that you had picked up on the way home and a much needed night in on the couch with Frankie, there was a tiny part of your brain that couldn’t seem to shake his comment from earlier about how big your boobs looked. 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t agree with him, because truth be told, they felt huge, too. They had been sore since you had woken up this morning, and while you had chalked it up to what you and Frankie had been up to the past few nights, or bad PMS symptoms, there was still just something about you that felt off. 

Later that night, during your movie marathon, you had paused whatever new action movie Frankie had been begging to watch since it had popped up on Netflix a few days ago for a popcorn refill. 

While Frankie meandered around the kitchen waiting for the next bag of popcorn to finish popping, you stayed curled up with your blanket in your corner of the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, until a sharp twinge began to cramp in your lower stomach. The feeling took you by surprise, digging your fingers into your side to try and ease the dull and achy sensation as your face scrunched in confusion, wondering why in the world you had what felt like period cramps in your belly. 

“Hey, you okay, Hermosa?” Frankie asked, returning with popcorn in hand, his face painted with concern to see the pained look scrunched between your brow as you curled deeper into the couch. 

“Oh, y-yeah, I’m fine. I just um, I just had a weird cramp I guess. Probably just ate all that popcorn too fast.” You replied, trying to convince yourself just as much as you were trying to convince Frankie that you were overthinking whatever mystery symptoms had just flashed through your lower half. 

“Here, lemme just set this popcorn down and then I can rub your back while we finish the movie, okay?” Frankie smiled softly, setting down the bowl on the coffee table before crawling back under the sea of blankets on the couch with you, laying your head against his thigh like a pillow while his hand traced up and down along the small of your back. 

“Thanks, Frankie.” You whispered quietly, taking a few deep breaths as the familiar warmth of your husband’s palm worked up and down the worn fabric of his shirt that you had put on earlier. 

“Of course, baby. If you need anything else, just let me know, okay? Just promise me you’ll take it easy on the popcorn if you have any more there, Killer.” 

The two of you laughed quietly as Frankie leaned down to press a soft kiss into your messy hair laid across his lap before picking up the remote to let the rest of the movie play as your eyelids began to get heavier and heavier as you slowly drifted off to sleep. 

“What’s inside this box?” 

“Open it up and find out! It’s a surprise for you!” 

“Okay? Huh, why is it just a pregnancy test in there?” 

“It’s yours! Congratulations! You’re having a baby!” 

“Ahhhhh!” You shrieked, panting as you woke from a cold sweat, shooting up from the couch. “What the fuck…” You whispered to yourself, coming to and realizing that you were now awake and had only been dreaming moments before this. Running your hands over your face, you blinked a few times to be greeted by the dim light of the TV still flickering in the background, Frankie sprawled out and snoring by your side where the two of you must have fallen asleep on the couch during the movie. 

“What a weird fucking dream…” You sighed to yourself, shaking your head as you quietly pushed yourself off the couch to stumble to the bathroom, pulling your phone out of your sweatpants pocket to check what ungodly hour of the night it had to be since the two of you had crashed on the couch. 

2:07 A.M. 

You let out a low grumble, pushing your sweatpants down to your ankles as you sat down to pee, blinking your eyes open wider to look through the notifications piled on top of each other on your lockscreen. Mindlessly swiping through a few junk emails and text messages from group chats, one notification in particular caught your eye, rousing you from your half awake state. 

“Feeling down? As you begin your Luteal Phase of your cycle, it’s normal to be less cheerful compared to last week when you were Ovulating! Click to track your cycle symptoms for today!” 

Oh shit.  

You could feel your heart beginning to race as you opened up the app, scrolling to the calendar tracker for the month. Swiping through the days, it didn’t take you long to realize that despite all of your weird symptoms you had been chalking up to PMS, you were almost two weeks away from starting your period. Frantically scrolling backwards, you began to try and rack your brain of all of the times in the past week that you had sex with Frankie while you would have been ovulating, and out of that number, how many times he hadn’t finished inside you, let alone even attempt to pull out. 

And that number was a big, fat zero. 

That’s when it hit you like a fucking freight train- You weren’t PMS-ing.

More than likely, you were pregnant. 

“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, your voice trembling and heart pounding as you buried your face in your trembling hands, your mind flooding with a million different thoughts all at once. 

How could you not remember that you were ovulating? Would Frankie be upset? The two of you weren’t even trying for kids right now. Would you be a good Mom? What were you even going to need to do to prepare? Your house was starting to get small for just you and Frankie, let alone a baby. How were you going to find a new place to live in 9 months? And get a new car? How were you- 

“Baby, you good in there?” Frankie groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he stumbled into the bathroom, letting out a yawn as he opened the door, bright light flooding into the hallway and revealing the sobbing mess you had become, still pants down, hunched over the toilet. 

“Woah, hey, hey, hey. Baby, baby, what’s going on? Talk to me, Hermosa. Are you okay? What happened?” You could feel Frankie’s demeanor immediately switch as soon as he saw you in the bathroom, instantly dropping to his knees by your side, his hands gently grabbing your face to shift your gaze towards him, carefully swiping his thumb to dry the tears that had been streaming down your cheeks. 

“Frankie, I- I- Fuck.” You stuttered, gulping hard as you tried to catch your breath, fighting back your nervous sobs as you locked eyes with Frankie, wondering how in the world you were ever about to brace him for the news you were about to tell him. 

“Hermosa, what is it? Please, tell me baby, what’s wrong?” Frankie pleaded, softly squeezing your face in reassurance as he waited for your response. 

You took a few more deep breaths, composing yourself enough to at least try to get a coherent thought out, swallowing hard as the words left your mouth. 

“Frankie, I-, Frankie, I think- I think I’m pregnant.” 

Frankie’s eyes went wide, his jaw practically hanging open as he tried to process what you had just told him, wondering if he hadn’t heard you right in his groggy state. 

“W-what?” 

“I think I might be pregnant, Frankie.” 

Before you could even bear the thought of looking at his face again, filled with fear that it would be a look of shock and disappointment, you buried your face in your hands again, fighting with everything in you not to cry and keep your composure. 

Frankie sat quietly for a moment, his hand covering up the gaping hole his jaw had made as it nearly hit the floor, shaking his head in disbelief before wrapping his hand around your wrist, pulling your hands to look at him. 

“R-really? You- fuck- You really think you’re pregnant?” 

As your eyes met his, you couldn’t believe the look on your husbands face- Not only was Frankie practically grinning from ear to ear, the sweet brown of his puppy dog eyes were welling with happy tears of their own, waiting on your every word as if he still didn’t believe what he was hearing. Silently, you began to slowly nod your head, biting down on your tongue, your heart feeling like it was about to shoot out of your chest. 

“You’re...y-you’re not upset?” You stammered, sitting up a little taller at Frankie’s reaction. 

“Upset? Hermosa, why in the world would I ever be upset?” Frankie laughed quietly, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear as his other hand cupped your jaw. “Querida… There’s nothing more I want on this earth than to have a family. And-fuck- The fact that it gets to be with you? That you might give me a family? How could I ever be upset about that? 

“Well it’s not like we were really trying for a baby, Frank. We said another year or two. With the house and money -” 

“Hey. We’ll figure it all out, okay? I promise, we’ll be more than okay.” Frankie smiled, his goofy grin still stretched wide between his cheeks, finally easing some of your worry. 

“I don’t even feel like I’m old enough to have a kid. I feel like I need to call up MTV to tell them I’ll be on the next season of 16 and Pregnant.” The two of you snorted, shaking your heads in awestruck disbelief that a stupid joke about a reality TV show could soon become your reality. 

“Well considering we’re married, have a house, and most importantly, are much closer to 30 than we are 16, I think they may have a hard time pitching the show “Married Couple Has a Baby”.” Frankie teased, giving you a playful nudge as the two of you laughed, giving you a few seconds to catch your breath before trying to dig into details. “Did- Did you take a test? How long have you known?”

“No, I don’t know for sure yet, Frank. It’s… It’s just a feeling, I guess. But the huge, sore boobs, weird, period-like cramps and the fact that we really haven’t been the most careful are all pretty good clues.” 

“Well, I mean, I don’t know, we’ve tried to be care-” 

Before Frankie could even finish the rest of his thought, you were already giving him the sassiest look you could muster in your overwhelmed and sleepy state, making the two of you laugh again he let out a sigh of defeat. 

“Okay, yeah, we really haven’t been that careful at all. Sweetie, listen, I- I know it’s not what we had planned, but… I mean, if you are pregnant…” Frankie paused, smiling at your stomach as he gently place a hand over your belly, tears welling in his chocolate brown eyes, “Baby, I would be so excited. Nervous as hell, but so fucking excited.” 

“Me too.” You sniffed, looking down at Frankie’s palm splayed across your stomach, heart swelling at the thought of Frankie being dad, thinking of how sweet and caring and perfect he’d be as you grew your little family together. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled Frankie in close, letting out a shaky sigh, whispering your words through happy tears. 

“I love you so much, Frankie.” 

“I love you so much too, Hermosa. More than anything.” 

For the sake of Frankie’s shoulder, you pulled away to wipe your tears to keep from soaking your husband’s shirt, quietly laughing to yourself at the fact that this whole time you had been talking to Frankie, you had still been pantsless, hunched over the toilet. 

“It probably would have been way more romantic to tell you all of this not at 2:30 in the morning, pantsless and hunched over the toilet like a little gremlin.” You snorted, Frankie following suit as he shook his head, running his hand through the sleepy curls of your hair. 

“I wouldn’t want it any other way, mi amor. C’mon, let’s get you up to bed.” 

As the two of you sleepily trotted your way upstairs, curling together under the warmth of your comforter with Frankie’s chest pressed against your back, you couldn’t help but smile as his arm draped over your stomach, hand resting on your belly while his thumb traced soft circles on your skin, imagining what it would be like if a few months from now if you really were getting ready to add another member to your family. 

The next morning, as the sunrise began to spill through your curtains, casting bright orange and pink shadows on your bedroom walls, you couldn’t help but stir as the familiar scent and warmth of Frankie’s body was missing from his side of the bed.

 As you sat up in the sea of blankets and comforters, softly rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you saw Frankie’s frame quietly sneaking through the bedroom door, fresh mug of coffee and bag of breakfast in hand with a stupid smile plastered across his face as he was greeted with your barely awake grin. 

“Good morning, beautiful.” Frankie cooed, setting down the coffee and breakfast down on your nightstand as he sat down next to you on the edge of the bed, pressing a tender kiss into the sleep-ridden ends of your hair before wrapping his arms around you in a long embrace. 

“Good morning, handsome.” You yawned, stretching your arms over your head, letting out a little grunt and laying your head on Frankie’s shoulder. “What’s all this for?” You asked, gesturing towards the coffee and oversized McDonald’s bag, assuming it was the reason for Frankie’s absence when you woke up. 

“I- I don’t know, I uh- I was just really excited when I got up this morning. It was early, and I didn’t wanna wake you up, so I made a trip to CVS to buy some pregnancy tests for you and figured I’d pick up breakfast on the way home.” Frankie smiled sheepishly, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, brushing past his untamed morning curls. “I know- I know you can’t really take the tests yet- I spent a lot of time reading the boxes in the store and wasn’t really sure what the best one was to take, so I got like, 4 different ones for when it's time.” 

“God, you’re so sweet. You’re the best, you know that? It’s about to be a long week of waiting before I can take one of those. Do you- fuck, Frankie, do you think it could really be positive?” You asked, tears beginning to well in your eyes again as you smiled up at your husband, already beaming back at you, picturing the two pink lines showing up on all of the tests he had bought for you. 

“Maybe, if we’re lucky.” He smirked, gently cupping your face, swiping his thumb across your face. “But if it’s not, then maybe… Maybe we start trying for a positive one on purpose.” 

“R-really?” You grinned, biting down on your lip in excitement. 

“Really, really.” Frankie replied, bringing his lips to yours in a long, slow kiss, soaking in the sweet taste of you on his tongue. “And maybe…” 

“Maybe, what, Fransisco?” You giggled, bringing your mouth back to his in a sweet and sloppy kiss. 

“Maybe…. We start trying right now, ya know, just to be sure. Wouldn’t want all those pregnancy tests to go to waste.”

Taglist:

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[juletheghoul]

Castaways (Part 1)

AN: Before I get into the notes for this - I want to say a quick thank you to everyone who took the time to send me a message / comment on my post, it meant a lot to me. 💜💜💜 As for this story, I started writing it in Sept of 2022, after watching the Harrison Ford movie, Six Days, Seven Nights lol. I had a lot of it down pretty quickly but eventually, I stopped. Now that new ideas aren't as bountiful as they once were, I started combing through all of the half-finished works in my docs and I fell back in love with this one. Hopefully you enjoy it. I have an ending planned out so there will definitely be a part 2! Shout out to @wheresarizona for betaing and just general wonderfulness, to @just-here-for-the-moment for screaming at me through comments in this doc. Enjoy xox. 

Pairing; Frankie Morales x f!reader (Princess as a nickname)

Warnings;  C o m p e t e n c y - a very brief snake…encounter?-piv sex (wrap it up), swearing, dirty talk, Frankie eats pussy with gusto (when doesn't he), creampie, longing, yearning, a helicopter crash (nothing too graphic), reader is spoiled at first and generally kind of snobby- enemies to lovers? Bit of a slow burn! let me know if I missed anything.

Word count; 13k 😅

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist

The click of your heels sounded throughout the airy hangar with a purpose, the echoing sound of it heralding your journey to give someone—anyone hell. 

A quick flick of your wrist reminds you how late you already were for the retreat booked in your private slice of paradise; the private jet your father paid a fortune for had made an emergency stop in Puerto Rico- some nonsense about a storm. 

Unacceptable. 

An imperious sigh leaves your mouth -not a single person to lay into anywhere in sight, and it leaves you no choice but to head outside to see if there is a plane you could commandeer. 

—

He wipes the grease onto the legs of his well-worn work coveralls, his previous scowl gone and replaced with a triumphant smile - finally got that fucking bolt off-

“Excuse me-” He turns toward the sound and is greeted by a very annoyed-looking woman. “Hi, do you know where I can find a pilot? There’s no one in the hangar.” She drags a very expensive-looking suitcase behind her with one hand, the other holding a ridiculously large hat onto her head. 

“Hi, yes I’m a pilot - most of the staff have gone home, a big storm coming soon-”

“Perfect, can I hire you to fly me to this island?” Her fingers flew across the no-doubt latest model of smartphone in her hands - ignoring the shocked expression on his face at being so rudely interrupted. “This one here, I need to be there like three hours ago, and I would be there now if we hadn’t stopped here - you know where this is, right? Can you take me?” She all but shoves the phone into his face. 

“No.” He carefully moves her manicured hand away from his face, and a tiny, cruel little part of him enjoys the shock in her expression - he very quickly gets the impression that this girl is not used to hearing the word. “As I was saying - everyone has gone home, a lot of people were grounded here, myself included. There is a big thunderstorm coming. Not safe to fly until it passes. Shouldn’t last too long - a quick squall - come back tomorrow, and I’ll happily fly you there.” He then turns to continue his work. 

“Money is no object, but I need to leave now,” she says it through a huffed breath, and his eyebrows raise. 

“And yet, my answer is still no.” He’s annoyed now. In truth, it was a fairly quick flight - he knew the island she’d shown him, had made the trip before, and it would be less than an hour, but her attitude was a black mark against her. Her phone trills then, a cheery tone, momentarily snatching her attention from him. 

“Hi, Dad, yeah, I know. I’m at the hangar, looking for a ride.” She taps her foot, and it sets his teeth on edge. “There is a pilot here, but he says he won’t fly me.” She narrows her eyes at him when he turns to look at her, listening to the other half of the conversation he wasn’t privy to. “I’ll tell him- Sorry-” She inspects his name tag, “Francisco, my father says if you get me to the island within the hour, he’ll make it worth your while. Name your price.” 

“I don’t know what part of it isn’t safe isn’t registering-” She raises her voice and speaks over him. 

“He’ll pay you ten thousand dollars.” Her tone is loud but bored. “Besides - the skies are gorgeous - I’m sure we can make it before anything happens.” She waits a moment, “Plus another five grand when you land. And you can have accommodations until tomorrow - room service, the works. Just please - get me there.” Her eyes are hopeful, and for a brief moment, he acknowledges how pretty she is, or - would be, if she wasn’t such an insufferable princess.

He knew he should have said no. Knew he should have turned her down and followed the guidelines, but that kind of money would change his life. Change their lives- it would have been insane for him to turn it down. 

“Fine.” He relents, shoving down the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. “I’ll be your pilot. We’ll be out of here in ten minutes.” She almost jumps with joy, and he can’t hide the annoyed expression on his face.

“Done - okay, I’ll be there soon, Dad! Bye.”  

-

He was covered in grease. 

You had to remind yourself not to wrinkle your nose at him. You supposed he could be handsome, in a scruffy, working man way, but that's beside the point. He was your saving grace right now, and that counted for a lot.

He fiddles with the engine of the helicopter for a moment more while he leaves you to wrestle your suitcase in by yourself, thankfully without breaking a nail. 

“Alright - just going to perform a couple of checks, and we’ll be in the air.” He got in and began flicking switches, turning knobs, and checking over all manner of gauges while you made yourself as comfortable as was possible in the cramped little aircraft. It was hard, though, with your suitcase practically digging into your back behind you. 

It’s fine. I’ll just have to get a massage once I land.

“Okay, we’re off.” He has his headset on, and you are in the air within a few moments. That, unfortunately, seemed to be the end of your good luck. 

Whether by some cruel design, by the fates or gods, or whatever entity dictated the events of your life - it didn’t take twenty minutes in the air for the sky to turn a foreboding gray. 

“That doesn’t look good,” he says, the words loud enough to be heard over the noise, his eyes quickly scanning the horizon, no doubt taking in the dark clouds flanking either side of the already rickety helicopter. 

“It came out of nowhere.” One minute, the sky was blue, and the next, lightning forked the sky in the distance. 

“No, it didn’t - I told you a storm was coming. This is too dangerous - I’m going to have to turn around for our safety.” He maneuvers the controls, and you have no choice but to agree despite your annoyance.

It all happened so fast. 

Something strikes the aircraft, the sound of it booming in your ears so loud it hurts, and then he’s frantic. Manically pressing buttons and calling through the radio, but from the frustrated and frankly terrified expression, no one is answering. 

“Fuck, tighten your seatbelt, we’re going down!” He grits his teeth, and all of a sudden, you are spinning, a scream being ripped from your throat - your heart falling out of your ass. “Impact coming - brace yourself!” he screams before the world goes black. 

-

Someone is making noise, a low groaning noise that pulls him out from the depths of unconsciousness, he’s only mildly surprised to realize it is him.

The helicopter - his helicopter wasn’t making any noise, which was bad. 

Under normal circumstances, it would be broadcasting out a signal beacon that would bring in a rescue team, but as it stood right now - without blinking lights or a working radio - it had gone completely silent. 

Lighting must have fried it. Fuck.

He took stock of his situation. Luckily, he doesn’t feel any injuries aside from horrible whiplash. No blood, no broken bones. A softer groan comes from the woman beside him; she’s still out, and he couldn’t see any injuries- he’d know when she woke up. 

I could kill you right now.

He thought the words, sighing loudly to himself before finding a way out of the cockpit. He’d managed to move most of what he had in the helicopter out onto the sand by the time she woke. 

“Jesus Christ - what the hell happened?” She stumbles out, barely managing to stop herself from eating shit in the process, unfortunately.

“What happened is the storm I warned you about many times caught us in the air and grounded us here.” He’s laying out his supplies, lengths of rope, his toolbox, and empty water jugs. He has a small case with a flare gun, an emergency kit filled with first aid supplies, and a massive tarp. There are a few more things to go through, but it is important they find a source of freshwater soon, or they won’t last two days, especially with the heat making his clothes stick to his body.

She sighs loudly, struggling to make her way through the sand in those ridiculous heels she’s wearing

“And now we’re stuck here, on an island when, where I should be, is home with my-“ 

“Can’t you call mayday or something? My father is expecting me. I’m sure he’ll have an army looking for us.” She’s digging through her purse frantically, ignoring the scathing look he’s giving her.

Spoiled little brat, you only care about yourself, huh?

“Wow. You know what? That’s a great idea! Why the hell didn’t I think of that?” He can’t hold back. “Oh! I know, it’s because we were struck by lightning, and it fried everything, so whatever army your father sends won’t find us -there is no signal to hone in on.” He scowls at her, annoyed that she isn’t paying attention to him even now. “Doesn’t help that a lot of these islands that are usually full of tourists are uninhabited after the hurricane that hit a few months ago.”

“So we’re stuck here???” Her eyes are wild as they look past him, to the beach just beyond, and then to the thick greenery behind them. “This cannot be happening right now,” she spoke to herself. 

“Where the fuck is my phone??” She moves and makes her way back into the cockpit, all but ripping the aircraft apart before- “Fuck! You have got to be fucking kidding me! Don’t you have some kind of satellite phone or something??” She’s tapping at the deeply damaged screen, it completely destroyed. 

He couldn’t help but bark out cruel laughter. 

“I don’t know what planet you’re on. People - regular people don’t just have satellite phones, sweetheart.” He got up from his place in the sand, making sure to put the flares back in the helicopter.

“Great. Just great.” She sighs loudly, “So we’re stuck here. Do you even know where here is?” She fishes into her bag once more, pulling out a bottle of what looks to be sunscreen, and squeezing out some to spread over her exposed skin. 

“No. I don’t, but the heat is going to kill us if we don’t find water soon. Grab one of those jugs, and let’s go find water. You might want to change your shoes.” He pushes her suitcase at her, ignoring the shocked look on her face. “Chop chop, princess, let’s move.” 

-

This couldn’t be happening, this could not be happening!

Right now, you should have been mingling with Louis, the gorgeous, billionaire bachelor your father invited to your private resort. You could almost picture it, the classy yet sexy outfit you’d be wearing while you flirted over a drink by the infinity pool. Broadening your horizons and nailing down the rich husband you deserve.

Instead, you’re here - stuck in the sand with the world's grumpiest pilot, trying desperately to get your phone to work, but it’s no use. 

You can almost see the frantic look on your mother's face now that it was obvious that you hadn’t made it at the scheduled time, she and your father were probably coordinating with the military right this second, with the Navy.

What the fuck am I going to do-

The jug hits your lap, scaring you half to death.

“Come on, princess, let’s get moving. We have to find fresh water before we die of dehydration out here.” He’s standing a few feet away, staring at you with his perpetual scowl. “Change your shoes, and let’s go.”

“What’s wrong with my shoes?” They were pretty sensible as far as your sandals went, respectable heels, and relatively comfortable. His scowl deepens.

“You cannot stumble around the island in those, you’ll break an ankle, and I am not fucking dealing with that.” His eyes narrow. “Tell me you brought a pair of runners in that giant trunk.”

“Of course I did,” your tone is icy as you get up with a huff. You quickly changed into them, and then you were off. 

The terrain got more and more treacherous the further you got from the powdery white sand of the beach. Dirt and bramble gave way to thick, almost jungle-like vegetation, making the trek harder and harder as time slogged by. 

The sound of running water greets the two of you like a siren song, spurring your tired, sweat-soaked body to move quicker, and the sight that meets you once you break the dense treeline could've made you moan. You jump into the water to cool your heated skin, ignoring the warning from Francisco. 

“You should get out of there.” He’s at the edge of the clearish water, filling the jugs quickly.

He seems to be determined to infuse his sour attitude into everything, your mouth opened to tell him to relax when something brushes past your leg. At first, you think it might be a piece of underwater flora, but it becomes apparent very quickly that it’s something far worse. 

“Francisco.” His eyes met yours, “Francisco, something just swam into my shorts, I-I think it’s a snake.” Your voice trembles slightly, hands itching to pull whatever it was out, but his voice cuts through the urge.

“Don’t move- are you sure it’s a snake?” He put the jugs down beside him, moving closer to you, descending slowly into the water.

“Yes, It’s coiling around my thigh, moving up - I need it out right now, I wanna just grab it-“ Your head tilts down, but he stops you.

“Don’t move! It could be venomous.” He wades into the water towards you slowly, too slowly. Your heart’s racing, hands shaking as you wait for him to reach you.

“Help me, get it out, get it out!” your voice is almost manic, desperation colouring every single inch of you. 

“Okay, okay, calm - deep breath.” You followed his example as best you could, trying yet failing to ignore the slithering against your skin. “Slowly pull your waistband away from your body, and I’ll see if I can grab it,” his tone had lowered, a soothing timbre reminding you for a moment of how a teacher would speak to a student. 

It helps.

You did as he asked, pulling at the waistband of your shorts, all thoughts of propriety forgotten, and within a moment, his hand was shoved down deep - a rather large hand fighting with whatever it was that had made camp in your pants. 

He bit his lip in concentration, bodily pulling you towards him as he struggled. A moment later, he was raising it up triumphantly.

A huge shiver went down your spine at the sight of it, spurring you to get out of the water as fast as humanly possible. 

“Jesus Christ, it’s just one fucking thing after another,” you spoke as you made it out without incident, ignoring the huge sigh he let out behind you. “Thank you for that.” He was following closely behind you, not interested, it seemed, in having a similar experience.

“Don’t mention it. Let's fill these and get back to the beach.” He hands you a couple of empty jugs, and you reluctantly got to work.

-

All things considered, they were lucky. Frankie knew that. His helicopter - albeit small - was surprisingly well-equipped to handle being stranded. He had an emergency survival kit, purchased partly under the insistence of his mother but mostly so he never had to relive what had happened to him a few years ago. He’d tried not to think about it, but walking through the foliage back to the crash site had brought it all back. Vividly. 

He pushed it away, shoved it down deep where he kept the rest of his issues - instead choosing to focus on what they needed to do. They needed some form of shelter, and soon. 

“I am sweltering,” her voice was low behind him, whiny with the distinct tone of someone who had never truly been uncomfortable a day in her life. “Fucking starving.” 

“Most likely, you’re dehydrated. Once we get back to the beach, we can figure out the water,” he spoke over his shoulder. “Have to make camp if we’re going to be here for a while.” They broke through the treeline, seeing his helicopter on the beach like a pile of old bones broke his heart a little - his only connection to home, to his little girl. He pushes it all away again. 

“So how do we get this water drinkable?” she huffs out the words, dropping the jugs next to his laid-out supplies with great effort. 

“We have to set up a purifying system, filter it, and then boil it.” He crouches down towards his supplies, looking for something clean he could use as a sieve. Luckily, he always kept an overnight bag with him, in case of being grounded somewhere, but he only had three shirts in there, he couldn’t burn one since he didn’t know exactly how long they’d be stuck there. 

“I don’t have much in terms of clothes - you got anything we could use?” He looks up at her, “Something simple, a cotton t-shirt? Something we could use to strain the water.” He walks towards her trunk, waiting for her to open it up. 

She opens it reluctantly, rifling through her things for a moment before handing over a simple white shirt. “Any chance I’ll be able to wear that again?” her voice is vaguely annoyed. 

“I’m sure Daddy won’t mind buying you a new one.” She gives him an expression that could curdle milk. He ignores it. Instead, he busies himself, setting the jugs of water somewhere relatively level. He felt her eyes on him, and it compelled him to explain what he did as he worked. “We have to let the water settle for about an hour, let the sediment sink to the bottom, then strain it, then boil it.” Not for the first time in his life, he was happy to have his military gear within reach. 

-

He works fast - you have to give him that. 

As much as he grumbles and looks at you like you are the devil incarnate - you couldn’t deny that he was incredibly intelligent. Within a few hours of getting back to the camp, he had built an impressive fire, filtered the jugs of water, and had boiled most of it. 

“Tomorrow, we’ll get to work building some sort of shelter,” he spoke after he finally sat down, the first break he’d taken all day. “Have to go about looking for food too, I saw some fruit trees - we’ll grab them on the way back from getting more water.” His eyes are heavy, you can see it in the way he blinked slower and slower. 

“We have to make that trek again?” your voice is shrill, he sighs loudly. 

“We’ll have to make that trek every single day until we’re rescued. Water is the most important thing. No delivery service here, princess,” his voice is sleepy, the usual bite in his words softened by the need for sleep. 

“How will anyone find us?” The worry is evident in your voice.

“I have a flare gun and three flares - we’ll be able to signal someone. Go to bed, we have a lot of work to do tomorrow.” He gestures to the helicopter–lovely, this will be comfortable. 

—

The knock on the helicopter window ripped you out of sleep, your heart racing as you clutched at your chest. 

“Wake up, princess.” He taps on the glass and through bleary eyes, you take note of the smile on his face as he wakes you up, “We have work to do.” He taps one last time and then leaves you. 

You flash him the middle finger as he turns and laughs, annoying you even more.

You join him on the beach a little later, ignoring the ache in your body from sleeping in a half seated position. God I really need that massage.

“I’m going to make the trek for more water, while I do that you are going to gather palm fronds.” He had a jug in his hand as he moved towards the treeline. For a moment you panicked, the thought of being alone causing your heart to sink. 

“Wait, you’re leaving me alone?” You moved a few steps towards him, catching yourself before making it to him. “I mean–um,” You raised your chin at the surprised look on his face, ignoring it. “How many fronds?” There was an abundance of them, both on the ground and in the trees just beyond the sand. He paused, giving you a curious look. 

“As many as you can, we’ll need way more than you think.” He turned then, and left you to it. 

Time crawled by while you were alone, with only your thoughts and the sound of waves to accompany you. Sweat dripped down your brow as you gathered, gathered and gathered some more. Enough fronds that it made a huge pile beside the fire pit Francisco had made. Your stomach growling almost constantly now–the hunger so intense it was making you light headed. 

Branches snapped, drawing your gaze towards his form. He had the jug in one hand and a stalk of bananas in the other. It was enough to make you moan. 

“This is good, but it’s not enough. We have to gather more - have to cut down a bunch of bamboo too.” He put the jug next to the others before joining you where you sat. “Here, you must be starving.” He ripped off a handful of the glorious fruit and tossed them into your lap. 

Nothing had ever tasted so good. 

“Jesus Christ, I thought I would pass out.” You knew you had fruit on your face, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. “Thank you.” You peeled another, eating it just as quickly as the first. 

“Don’t mention it. Okay, let's get to work.” 

-

Your fingers were sore, your back was sore, every single part of you was sore. Hours crawled by with the sun beating down on you both as you weaved fronds together. He had you create sheets and sheets of it, had you help him cut down enough bamboo to build a house. He did the heavy lifting and made what looked like a crude rope tying together the bamboo in layers strong enough to hold both of you. 

Wordlessly, he worked, the sweat dripping down his face, soaking through his shirt like a marathon runner until it was a hindrance and he took it off, used it as a rag that hung limp over his shoulders. This was much worse than a marathon, though, much worse than any workout you’d ever done in your life, and although you’d never say it out loud, you were incredibly thankful he was here. 

I probably would have died by now. 

It was a terrifying thought that without him, you wouldn’t survive - you shoved it away. It wouldn’t matter soon because your parents would be looking, and they wouldn’t stop until they found you.

“Come lay on this, I want to see if it’ll hold both of us.” He stood over the platform, laying on it as you came closer. It held. “Perfect. We’ll be elevated off the sand, less chance of bugs or crabs biting us, and it’ll be cooler than the helicopter.” He let out a weary, tired sigh.

“You’re expecting us both to sleep on this?” You couldn’t help your tone, and instantly you felt bad. He’d worked very hard on this. His brow furrowed. 

“You’re welcome to sleep where you want. I’ll be on this.” He got up, his scowl now back in place, “I’m going to finish here and then go fishing. Keep weaving.” 

Quietly, you got back to work.

-

In all his years, Francisco had never met someone so spoiled and self-serving - even though he’d expected it from her, it still hurt. He didn’t know why - why it would matter that some spoiled rich brat was acting like a spoiled rich brat; maybe it was the lack of gratitude. He was useful, he was smart and he had skills that he knew for a fact she’d die without. 

He stewed over it as he swam towards a large boulder protruding out of the water near the shore. A perfect spot to catch the fish that swam around in the reef below the surface. 

I should let her starve. Find her own food and her own water.

He wouldn’t, though, he couldn’t. All his life, he’d been taught to be a good person, to help where he could and after what had happened in that jungle - he shook it off, pushed it down. Ignored the cruel, petty voice in his head and set about catching something to eat. All the while keeping an eye on the horizon for a boat - for any sign that people were looking for him. That his people were looking for him. 

He let himself think about them, really think about them for the first time since the crash. His parents, his little girl, let himself feel the emptiness of being without them. He let the waves of it crash over him just as the ocean around him crashed into the shore, and then he put it away. 

She was still working when he came back with his catch, her face scrunched up in concentration - ignoring her, he went about doing what needed to be done.

“Is this enough?” Her voice cut through his concentration, and he nodded noncommittally - leaving the prepped fish on a relatively clean piece of driftwood he’d found.

“Hold this.” He stood at the corner of the raised bed and had her hold a tall, sturdy piece of bamboo. His plan was to make a small frame around the base, use the tarp in order to waterproof it, and lay the fronds all around to protect them from the winds that blew through here in bad weather.  

She watched him work in silence, standing where he told her to stand, holding what he told her to hold and eventually, finally - they finished. It was as solid a structure as he could manage without planks of wood or nails, strong enough to survive against a moderate storm and to keep them off the sand. 

He’d used the tarp to cover the roof and three sides, leaving one open for them - him to enter. On top were rows of fronds to catch rainwater and prevent it from pooling in the tarp, the rest of the unused woven sheets she’d made laid inside to use as bedding. With the emergency blanket and his military bedroll this would make a decent bed.

All in all, he was proud of himself, he took the raw materials he’d found on this island, and fashioned himself – themselves a shelter. 

His stomach growled. It was time to start that fire.

-

Your stomach was screaming out in hunger. The bananas had been wonderful, but they weren’t enough. 

“Are you sure that’s safe to eat?” You watched him wrap the fish in banana leaves and put it into red hot embers; you couldn’t help but be slightly dubious about eating something he’d just pulled out of the ocean. He sighed loudly before answering.

“You don’t have to eat it,” he sounded tired, and you supposed he must have been with how hard he’d worked. “It’s edible. I’ve caught this fish before.” He wiped at his brow with the shirt around his shoulders, his skin slightly pink from the sun. 

You didn’t say anything, still unsure, but when the time came for him to unwrap the blackened leaves, your stomach growled loudly. It looked very good. 

He didn’t offer any, instead, he snatched a piece of the steaming, flaky fish and popped it into his mouth, relishing the taste with a loud groan and a big smile. A nice smile, in truth. 

“Maybe I’ll try a little bit.” You scooted closer to where he sat in the sand, unable to resist it.

“Here, careful - it’s very hot.” He tore a piece of a fresh banana leaf and gave you a decently sized filet, and with singed fingers and zero patience, you took a bite.

It was, without a doubt, the most delicious thing you’d ever eaten. 

“Good?” He ate quickly, his expression amused at your very obvious enjoyment of the ‘dubious’ fish. 

“It’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever had.” You meant every word, and licked every last morsel off your fingers.

It was incredibly dark by the time the food was eaten, and the fire had died out. Francisco was attaching a piece of netting to the open side, and once he was done, he climbed in without another word. 

The helicopter felt safe, enclosed and a space you could lock, but the shelter would have airflow. It would be infinitely cooler to sleep in. You knew that, eventually that helicopter would turn into a greenhouse that felt more like an oven. Not to mention how horrible it was to sleep sitting up. 

Every second that passed made the shelter look more and more appealing, and after quickly changing into clean clothes, you slipped in silently, but it didn’t even matter, he was already asleep.

—

He woke to the feeling of soft breath on his back, the air was significantly cooler than it had been during midday, and now, in the early dawn of the morning she was seeking him out for warmth. It was in him to pull away, to deny her, but instead, he stayed motionless. Let her even breath comfort him for a few moments before he eventually rose to bathe in the ocean. Her hand was draped around his middle, pressing herself flat to him while she slept, completely oblivious.

He thought about how scandalized she’d be to know she was being so intimate with him; it almost made him laugh, but soon, that internalized mirth shifted to something bitter, something close to anger. He was only too aware that when she looked at him, she saw ‘the help’; someone like her could never see him as anything other than someone else to pay off, the person hired to do things below her. She shifted in her sleep, burrowing closer, her soft puffs of air ruffling the hair curling at the base of his skull. 

Why does that bother me? I don’t even care about this person.

He sighed, confused with himself over these baffling feelings of inadequacy, frustrated that being close to another person felt good. Annoyed that he didn’t want to pull away - no matter how much of a brat she was. If she woke now and saw them tangled, she’d be embarrassed, perhaps even disgusted, he knew this for a certainty. So he left her.

-

Dawn found you almost frustratingly well-rested, as well as alone. All doubts that may have lingered about the craftsmanship of the shelter evaporated like the morning dew. A long, much-needed stretch is the catalyst that moves you out of the shelter, making sure to close the netting on your way to grab your toiletry bag when he catches your eye from his place in the water. The early morning sun lit up the surface like diamonds. He was running his hands through his hair, wringing out the shirt he’d been wearing the day before. His skin was golden, the high planes of his face kissed by the sun's rays, his shoulders too. You watched him for a time, unable to ignore the breadth of his shoulders - the pleasant sight of his thighs and it was hard not to stare at him when he rose out of the water, the droplets from his golden skin casting a sort of spell on their way back down to earth.

His hands were something else altogether, weaving their own magic the closer he came to shore, from the way they wrung out the shirt easily to the way they adjusted his considerable bulge as he walked, and you looked away quickly, ignoring the curious heat crawling up your chest. 

He found you brushing your teeth, pointedly looking away. 

“I’m going to go look for more fruit.” He spoke as he put the wrung-out shirt to dry next to some of the other things he’d washed before changing out of his wet boxers behind the cover of the helicopter. “You should gather more firewood, things to burn for tonight.”  When he came back around, he was dressed in a clean white tee and a pair of shorts. Looking for all the world like a man on vacation. 

“I’m coming with you.” You rose from your place in the sand quickly, shuffling to reach him before he left you. “I’d rather not wait around.”

“Fine, come on then.” With that, you both set off into the trees.

The morning was full of birdsong and sunlight, bright buttery shafts of it cutting through the trees while the former echoed around you. 

“This would be a gorgeous place to vacation.” He echoed your thoughts as you followed a faint path in the brush. 

“I guess, would need a vast improvement.” Like a hotel, and an actual landing strip maybe. He laughed low, his eyes looking high into the trees.

“I don’t know, I don’t mind it being a bit rustic.” He pointed ahead, a few coconut trees catching his attention.

“This is more than a bit rustic I’d say. God I can’t wait until my parents find me. I should be by the pool right now, mingling with Louis.” Your palm smacks against the first of surely many bites rising on your skin. 

“That your boyfriend?” He’s serious now, scooping a couple of coconuts from the floor and dropping them into your arms.

“No, but he should be. He’s an insanely wealthy man my father invited to our private island, where I should be right now.” You sighed loudly, annoyed at the situation all over again. “Soon. Soon, I will be back where I belong. God, my mother is probably worried sick, you know?” You stood there, holding onto the coconuts he stacked in your arms before moving on to find more fruit.

“Sure.” He all but grunts, moving carefully through the brush. “I get it-“

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the military is out searching for me right now.” An image of handsome Louis frantically joining the search with your parents makes your stomach flip. 

I wonder if he is worried about me?

“Focus.” His voice rips you out of your daydream. “Let’s grab some more bananas, and head back.” He seems annoyed - he’s always annoyed.

“I hate this.” Your arms ache from holding the heavy coconuts. “Shouldn’t we be building a signal fire or something?” You can hear the whining tone, but you can’t stop it. Must everything be so hard?

“And just what are we meant to signal? Seen a bunch of planes, have you?” His tone is icy, his expression angry. “Cruise ships sailing by us every hour?” He finds a banana tree and cuts down a stalk, his movements aggressive.

“Well no-“

“Exactly. We’re on our own, which means until the military or whoever is looking for you finds this island- we have to work.” He props the bananas against his shoulder and turns back towards the camp, pointedly ignoring the way you struggle to keep up with him. 

-

You’re already covered in sweat by the time you make it back to camp, breathing hard and soaking through your clothes.

“Jesus Christ, I cannot with these things.” You dump the coconuts next to the water jugs, shaking out your aching limbs. He sets the bananas next to them before moving to grab some firewood from the tree line. Your eyes scan the beach, the waves gently lapping at the shore; it would be pretty enough without the eye sore that is the helicopter.

“I cannot wait to be away from this hunk of junk.” His movements stop at your words.

“That hunk of junk was my entire fucking livelihood. I don’t have a rich daddy to just buy me a new one.” He tosses the wood pieces angrily into the pit, ignoring the recoil his tone inspired. “Not everyone has it so easy, princess.”

“No, I guess they don’t, sorry-“ he spoke over you.

“Forget it.” He let out a sigh. “Let’s just do what we can to survive until someone finds us.” His expression was cold, and you can’t help the guilt that blooms in the pit of your stomach.

“Sounds good.” The rest of the day passed by in silence.

—

The days both fly, and crawl by and Frankie works each and every one of them. He works to find them food, he works to reinforce their shelter - to make them as comfortable as he possibly can, all while trying his hardest not to lose his mind. The picture of his little girl burned a hole in his heart when he looked at it each night. He only hoped she knew he’d come back to her.

Being stuck on an island by himself would have been bad enough; the loneliness, the isolation would no doubt be detrimental to his mental health, to his hopes of being found, but this? This had to be worse.

She helped, but only because he pushed her to. He knew that if it were up to her - they would have long since starved. He watched her as he braided more palm fronds to pad the sleeping platform, she was washing some of the clothes she’d worn as best she could, and he couldn’t help but admit that she was pretty. Her face was pleasant to look at when her nose wasn’t turned up. He can’t help but like the shape of her, imagining her skin would be soft and silky - he’d definitely been on this island too long. 

Doesn’t matter how attractive she is, she doesn’t want you, and you don’t want her.

He didn’t know if he was reminding himself, or convincing himself. 

A noise in the treeline behind him stops him mid-braid and for a moment, he thinks there might be someone else on the island, but he realizes what it is and grabs his knife. If he plays this right, tonight they’d eat like kings. 

-

A new appreciation was born of having to wash your own clothes, for electricity, for washing machines and dryers, for Tide pods. For the maids who did your laundry and for the people who did your drycleaning, for the neat drawers full of clean clothes waiting at home. 

For now, these would have to do. They wouldn’t smell like your favourite fabric softener, but they’d be clean enough to wear here at least. Francisco had set up a makeshift laundry line from the helicopter to a leaning palm tree, his things hanging as you added your own, and you briefly considered folding his things for him when his absence caught your attention. 

“Francisco?” you called out to him, ignoring the way your heart raced. Usually, when he went off to get water or fruit, he let you know; it was unlike him to leave without a word. There had to be a reason. He wouldn’t just abandon you, would he? 

Grab a hold of yourself, where the hell would he even go?

He crashed through the trees, triumphant and laughing, and you shoved away the altogether too-big feeling of relief that washed over you to see him. 

“Good news, Princess, there’s wild boar on the island.” It was the happiest you’d seen him, well, ever. “It’ll be hard, but I think I can catch one.” He was making his way towards his supplies, and very quickly, the relief turned to dread. “We’re going to feast-”

“You’re going to kill a wild pig?” It was very hard to keep the worry out of your tone, or off your face. 

“What’s the matter, never had pork chops?” He frowned now, his hands on his hips facing you. 

“I mean, yeah, but this is a little different than going to a butcher and grabbing a few chops. You’re going to hunt down the animal and kill it? I’m not into that. I don’t know if I could eat it.” He narrowed his eyes at you, no doubt preparing to rip you a new one. “It’s also incredibly dangerous - they have a tendency to gore people.” His expression changed at that, real consequences seemed to get through to him. 

“I mean, it’s not that different, but fine.” The wind had gone out of his sails, “I’ll see if I can catch something in the water - you okay with that?” He grabbed his fishing gear, raising an eyebrow, and you nodded before he made his way towards the water. You knew he was probably cursing you for ruining whatever he imagined cooking, but still, you couldn’t help but consider it a victory. 

Babe, the pig wouldn’t be dying on your watch, and neither would he. Instead, he returned to the camp a few hours later with a fish, a few crabs, and a look that said you better not have any complaints. You didn’t. None that you’d say out loud anyway.

Dinner was a quiet affair, tasty and filling with the fish and the added protein; you both went to sleep full, and ungored. 

-

Something loud dragged you up and out of the haze of sleep. It was still dark, and the sun had not risen yet. The sound was definitely something loud - probably just a plane. You shot up, scrambling out of the shelter to see if what you were hearing was real, Francisco barely moved. 

It was high up, but it was definitely a plane. 

“Francisco! There’s a plane. Where are the flares?” You all but barrelled into the shelter to shake him out of his dreams. 

“Hmmm, tired baby.” He was out of it but strong when he pulled you closer - you ignored the way your stomach flipped on its ass at his pet name. 

“Francisco, let me go, there’s a plane!” You smacked at his face lightly, just enough to wake him up.

“Huh? A plane?” your words broke through his sleep-addled brain, and he shot up. “What kind of plane?” He was out and grabbing at his bag momentarily before he swore loudly, a sigh filling the quiet of the dawn. “You called me for a commercial plane? You didn’t actually fire a flare, did you?” The blood drained from his face momentarily.

“No, I would have, but I didn’t know where you put the flare gun.” You frowned at him, annoyed. “I thought they’d see it.”

“Thank Christ.” He took a deep breath, his hands on his hips, “That Is a commercial flight, and if you’d fired the flare, it would have not only been a waste of a flare, but you could have burned the shelter down, could have ruined our supplies.” He seemed angry, and that, in turn, pissed you off. 

“I didn’t think about that, I was trying to help-“ You crossed your arms, ignoring the annoyed look on his face.

“With the altitude that plane has, it wouldn’t matter if we had a thousand flares; come to me before you try to signal anyone, got it Princess?” He didn’t wait for a response, instead, he got back into bed and didn’t mention the incident again. 

You got back into the shelter, laying in the pre-dawn glow - conflicting feelings fighting for dominance within you. You stared at his back, at the soft curl of hair he wore like a halo, and the fluttering of your stomach won out for just a moment. The solid press of him holding you close while still asleep was strangely welcome, although you’d never admit it. His condescending tone came to mind then, he had a habit of speaking down to you, and while you could admit you weren’t the most knowledgeable in survival, you still deserved to be spoken to like an adult. 

You fell asleep fighting the urge to both press yourself close, and smack him upside the head.

-

When morning well and truly came, it found you both in a terrible mood. 

He was quiet, much like he always was when he was annoyed, so you left him with his thoughts and set off to find more fruit through the path you’d both taken to traveling every few days. Luckily, the island was bountiful, and there were plenty of bananas, coconuts, and even some mangoes, but there was only so much you could take and you decided to venture out a bit further, keeping your eyes peeled for something different. 

After a while, you found a berry bush, a small variety you didn’t recognize at once, but they were a very gorgeous, deep purple colour. Thinking he might appreciate a change as much as you, you picked a few handfuls and wrapped them up in a banana leaf before continuing your scavenging. 

This was where your luck ran out, however, and if there were other varieties of fruit, they weren’t for you to find. Instead, you picked up a few mangoes and a coconut on your way back. 

You found him looking through his things from the helicopter, a scowl on his face. 

“Hey, I found some berries-” He looked up at the sound of your voice, his brow furrowed at the smile on your face. “I figured you were probably getting sick of the same fruit we’d been eating. I was hoping to find something else, but no luck.” You set them down in front of him. 

“You didn’t eat this, did you?” his voice was curt and you frowned. 

“No, I thought we could share them-”

“These are toxic.” He tossed them into the sand, burying them with a heavy sigh. “Do me a favour and don’t grab shit you don’t know for sure is edible. You could have made us really sick.” He turned then and continued with his inventory. Embarrassment and annoyance burned through your veins. 

“You don’t have to be such an asshole about it, you know.” The words came on almost by themselves, bubbling up in your throat at the sanctimonious look on his face. 

“What?” He paused and turned to look you in the face. 

“You don’t have to be so fucking mean to me all the time.” You crossed your arms, holding in the frustration that seemed to expand in your lungs like a horrible balloon. “All you do is talk down to me. I said I was sorry about almost using the flare-” He huffed out an almost amused laugh and it boiled your blood. “It’s not funny! I’m stuck out here with you and all you do is yell, or talk to me like I’m stupid. I’m a person, and I deserve basic human decency-”

“What’s my last name?” He crossed his arms, his voice calm, but his question stole the words right out of your mouth. 

“What?” 

“You heard me - what is my last name? What do you know about me? Aside from the fact that my first name is Francisco, and that I’m a pilot.” He stood, knocking the sand off his shorts. 

“I don’t think you told me-”

“No, I haven’t - do you know anything about who might be looking for me? Do you have any idea if I have anyone waiting for me to get home?” Your stomach sank, the anger slowly bleeding away and being replaced with shame. “Any idea if I’m married, or if I have kids?” He’s angry now, the scowl bigger than ever before. 

“No, I-I don’t know.” You took a step back. 

“No. No, you don’t. You don’t know that I’m divorced, that my parents are probably worried sick. You don’t know that I have a daughter, that her name is Tatiana, and that she’s probably thinking her dad abandoned her, or worse - that he’s dead.” You recoiled at that. 

“I didn’t know you had a daughter.” Your voice feels small, and the shame in your belly grows, vines of guilt wrapping themselves around your throat.

“How could you? You’ve never fucking asked me a single thing about who I am as a person! All you’ve done is complain. Complain and talk to me endlessly about how much money your parents have, how you should be on a private island, and how much of a fucking eyesore my livelihood is, and any time I’ve opened my mouth to respond or explain how we’re both stuck here, you’ve spoken over me.” His words cut at you - you don’t know this man at all, and you never ever cared to ask. You don’t respond. 

He was well and truly angry now, kicking sand away from himself in his frustration. 

“I’m sorry-” He put his hands up. 

“Don’t. I don’t need you to apologize. I need you to pull your weight, and maybe realize that I’m also a person, and that all your money means jackshit to me. I need you to treat me like a human being, not just a sounding board.” He walked away, leaving you with your guilt - a sad balloon deflating alone.

-

They were both quiet that night. With Francisco, it was mostly out of anger. The feelings of inadequacy and frustration he’d been bottling up had finally been spoken aloud, and now he was processing them, all while still being stuck on this godforsaken island.

For her, he could see it was pure guilt. From the subdued expression, from her quiet words and general withdrawal, he knew no one had ever been so honest with her before. He would have almost felt guilty, if he hadn’t been so annoyed and hurt at the way she’d treated him. Instead, they both avoided each other for the rest of the night - a silent shared meal before wordlessly falling asleep in the shelter.

He woke the next morning to the feeling of her pressed against him again.

Her deep, even breaths against the back of his neck were embarrassingly welcome, and he ignored the way his body responded. He let out a low, deep sigh, grateful that he was facing away, a shudder passing through his body at the thought of having to explain why he was as hard as a rock. 

His hand traveled down to where her leg was draped over his hip, unable to resist feeling her skin for just a moment before he slowly untangled their limbs, and made his way towards the water. 

—

Days passed, and they passed without much conversation. This particular morning was somehow even more quiet despite the constant sound of waves lapping at the shore. The anger had fizzled out, and what was left was more akin to silent resignation. The two of you danced around each other, performing what were now everyday tasks without uttering a single word. The hours slipping by wordlessly, that is, until your scream cut through the silence. 

“What is it?” He was at your side quickly, his eyes wide with something that looked suspiciously like worry. 

“I think I stepped on a shell-” The sand around your foot was turning pink, your eyes widening at the sight.

“Okay, take a deep breath and sit here-” He guided you with surprisingly soft hands towards one of the logs around the burned-out fire. “Don’t move - try to keep your foot out of the sand.” He stood then, walking away.

“Where are you going?” Your voice sounded strange, almost whiny, and you ignored the little pang of despair. 

Get a hold of yourself.

“Just going to get the first aid kit.” The cut throbbed as you waited, and soon he returned with one of the water bottles and a big red case. He walked with purpose, the look on his face shamed you to have been so clueless. This was a man that had obviously dealt with many a scraped knee. “Okay, let's see what we’re dealing with.”

He kneeled on the sand before you, taking your foot into his hands. You hissed when he softly brushed the sand away.

“Tsk, come on now Princess. I know you can be braver for me than that.” His hands were soft, and so was his tone, and it filled you with something, comfort amongst other, less wholesome thoughts. You shook them away, chewing on your bottom lip, watching as he played nurse. “Nothing too crazy, just a little cut.” 

He rinsed the sand carefully, his brow furrowed in concentration. 

“Okay, this might sting a little.” He rifled through the open case beside him, grabbing a little pack of what looked to be antiseptic. “Deep breath for me.” He watched you then, waiting until you let the breath go before wiping the wound clean. The sting almost slapped you across the face, every instinct screaming to pull your foot away from the mean man. 

“Okay, okay - you’re okay.” his hands engulfed your ankle, holding you firmly in place. “Good job, we’re almost done.” he spoke low, opening up a waterproof bandaid and carefully covering the tiny wound. “There we go. All done.” He pressed a small kiss to the top of your foot, his eyes widening after. “Sorry- force of habit.” He laughed awkwardly. 

“Thank you. It feels much better.” You felt the heat in your chest and in your ears and ignored it, ignored the whole mess of feelings blooming in your gut for him. 

“Yeah, sure.” He collected his things before scratching at the back of his neck and it thrilled you to realize that he looked as flushed as you felt. “I’m going to go catch something.” He got up quickly, moving with purpose away from where you sat, curtailing any further discussion. 

-

He hadn’t expected it, but she’d taken his words to heart. He’d felt terrible after going off on her. The embarrassment on her face at how she’d treated him, although completely warranted, pulled at his heartstrings. He couldn’t exactly say why - it wasn’t something he could explain, not something he wanted to delve into. Whether that was for his benefit or hers, he couldn’t be sure. 

She no longer had to be told to fetch fruit, or water. She did her best to keep the camp organized, she no longer spoke about her wealth, or Louis. She was quiet most of the time, in fact, and he wasn’t sure if it was better, or worse. 

Where she mostly avoided his annoyance throughout the day, she still clung to him at night. He never told her, convincing himself it was to spare her further embarrassment, ignoring the little part of him that knew it was because he was terrified that if she knew, she’d stop. 

-

Things were different, that was for sure. The days passed and you had to admit to yourself that you’d been such an ungrateful, horrid little - well, Princess. He’d been completely right about you, and he’d had the patience of a saint. You saw him with different eyes now. You saw a competent, strong, intelligent man who up until now, was the only reason you’d survived on this godforsaken island as long as you had. It was well and truly humbling. 

Instead of complaining, now you did your best to pull your weight. The goal was to show him that you were grateful, that you weren’t just some spoiled rich girl, that you could be something other than that, anyway. You wanted - needed to prove to him that you weren’t a burden. 

-

It had been a particularly hot day, the sun beating down on the both of you with a vengeance. Sunset couldn’t come fast enough, and once it did, you cherished it like never before. 

He dug around in the helicopter while you sat on the log, enjoying the tiny, but very welcome breeze coming off the water. 

“Oh wow, I forgot about this,” You heard the smile in his voice, “How would you feel about a drink?” He held a bottle in his hand, making his way over to your place in the sand. 

“I’d feel great actually, if you don’t mind sharing.” 

“Bottle’s almost full, more than enough for both of us.” He sat next to you, taking a generous sip of the amber liquid before handing it to you. It was warmer than you would have liked, but the burn was pleasant enough that you didn’t care. “Good, right?” His smile is as breezy as the ocean, and just as welcome. 

“Very good,” you couldn't help but admit before taking another long sip, “I can already feel it.” You smiled, handing it back to him. 

“We’ll be cheap drunks tonight, that’s for sure.” He took another long swallow, and you couldn’t help but stare at the way his throat worked. You watched the fire instead, focusing on the embers as the drink settled in your stomach. The heat spreads through your limbs, making you feel heavy where you sit beside him. 

You both sat in silence for a time, passing the bottle back and forth until most of it was gone, and your head felt like a balloon barely tethered to your body. 

“This would be such a beautiful place…without the whole ‘being stranded’ thing.” He held the bottle loosely, his eyes no doubt taking in the gorgeous sunset.

“You mean you don’t love being stuck out here with me?” You bumped his shoulder, and it vaguely registers how much you missed physical touch. He laughed, full-throated. 

“Oh yeah, this is definitely heaven.” His expression is exaggerated, “You know what I mean.” He gestures to where the water laps at the shore. “This is a paradise, just needs a resort, and an airport.” He sighed, his mood is the friendliest you’ve ever seen. 

“Yeah, it would definitely make a difference.” You leaned back and listened to the water. “Happy you’re here though, woulda died without you.” You didn’t mean to say it, but it’s absolutely true.

“Oh, I don’t know-” He shrugged, modest and much kinder than you deserved.

“Yes, you do-” You shoved at his arm softly, “You’re the only reason we’re still alive, super nice to me despite the fact that I can be a spoiled little brat.” You laughed. 

“Can’t argue with that.” He laughed, “I like brats, though.” He smiled, and something that feels very much like butterflies fluttered around in your stomach. He didn't say anything else, and neither did you, the butterflies lingered, though, well into the night, and they only seemed to get stronger whenever his eyes found yours. 

“It’s getting late-” He puts the bottle down, “-we should get some rest.”

You nodded, not trusting your voice, instead, you just followed him towards the shelter. 

It’s a strange, unfamiliar dance you’re both doing - the polar opposite of how things have been between you. Shy smiles replace cold stares, and a curious longing takes hold of you. It would embarrass you to fall prey to your baser instincts - there’s something in the way his eyes tracked you that says you weren’t alone in your feelings. 

-

Something has shifted, he can feel it in the tense energy between them. A pleasant buzz flowed through his veins, danced along his nerves like a current, beat through his heart, and into his loins. She was so close, he could practically feel her warmth. 

She sighed beside him, her legs rubbing together like a cricket and he knew in his gut, she felt the same energy. 

“Good night, Frankie.” She whispered the words, as though someone might overhear. His eyes clenched shut at the feel of her breath ruffling through his hair, closer than she’d ever let herself get, awake anyway. 

“Night-” Everything in him wanted to turn over, to feel her fingers ruffle through his hair, but something held him back. He stayed still, his body tense despite how relaxed the alcohol had made him. 

“It’s a bit cold–” Her voice is a bit closer, so close he felt it in the shell of his ear, “-okay if I scoot closer?” Her hands pressed against his back, her legs tangled with his, and he knows in his bones, it’s just a ploy, but he stayed still nonetheless. 

“Sure-get close.” He took her hand and wrapped it around his middle, holding it well above his waist, letting out a deep breath.

“Oh-okay.” She pressed her face into his shoulder, and every cell in his body screamed at him to turn around, to kiss her, bury his tongue in her mouth, and then trail it down, bury it between her legs, but he shook his head, convincing himself she just wants this.

“Night.” His voice cracked, but he said nothing more. He felt her staring at him, letting out a little sigh of her own. 

“Night, Frankie.”

—

The days following your drunken night passed by in mostly silence, with a polite avoidance from him, and an annoyed quiet from you. 

It was no secret that you had the power to annoy the hell out of him, but you’d thought there’d been something else. The look in his eye when he’d told you he liked brats, the sound of his voice when he’d held you close, the considerable boner pressing against your ass when you’d woken up to him wrapped around you that next morning. 

Maybe you’d misread him, maybe it wasn’t flirting, maybe he’d just been stroking your ego, being nice to you, and you’d practically thrown yourself at him only to be.. What? Ignored? 

-

The wind whipped around as you both ate dinner a few quiet days later, the sky dark and pregnant with the promise of a heavy rain, filling you with worry. The shelter was sturdy, you knew that, but you didn’t think it would hold up against a storm like the one that had blown you both onto the island to begin with. 

“I don’t think we’ll be enjoying a fire tonight,” His eyes stared at the sky, same as you, “we should bring the clothes into the shelter; it’s going to pour soon.” He got up, tossing his banana peels into the fire pit just as the first few drops of water sprinkled down on top of you.

A nervous current flowed through your body as you made yourself comfortable within the shelter, making you acutely aware of his closeness. 

The rain came down in sheets as you both lay there, filling the silence with its rhythmic pattering against the tarp. Lightning flashed, illuminating the space between you. A shiver ran through you at the look on his face. 

“You okay?” His hand shot out, landing softly on your arm, raising goosebumps as it slid down towards your elbow.

“I’m fine.” You shudder, but all at once, annoyance springs up at his rejection the other night - you turn to give him your back. 

“Are you… angry at me?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“Why would I be angry at you? It’s not like I threw myself at you or anything.” 

“What?” His voice sounded incredulous, “You mean, when we were drinking?”

“Yes!” You sighed, “I was all over you. I guess I was wrong.” All at once, you’re embarrassed, and desperate to get away from his incredulous expression. The storm, however, holds you both hostage.

“Hm.” He sounded almost amused, and your stomach dropped, “Well, if I’d known that all you needed was to be fucked, things would have been different.” 

Your stomach did a backflip onto its ass, shock, and pure adrenaline coursing through your body at his words. You turned slowly to face him.

“Sorry?” It came out almost stupidly, and he smiled a very self-satisfied smile.

“I said, if I’d known, that in order for you to stop being such a brat,” He moved in closer, forcing you to lay back and make space for him between your legs. “All you needed was for me to fuck you, I would have done it sooner.” He hovered above you, close enough that he must’ve surely felt your heart pounding where his chest met yours. It’s with Herculean strength, that you composed yourself, albeit nervously.

“Well, I guess I just thought you were more perceptive.” The bold words were completely at odds with the tremor in your voice; he laughed, full-throated, and it sent a current across every inch of you. 

“Or maybe, I thought you’d open that pretty mouth of yours, and say what it is you wanted.” He pressed forward, dragging his lips across your jaw before capturing your mouth in a kiss. It started soft, and for a moment, the storm disappeared, your hands finding themselves tangled up in his messy waves, and then his tongue pressed forward, and it pulled a moan from somewhere deep inside you. 

There was no more talking. Only the feeling of your heart racing, your cunt aching, and his comforting weight pressing you into the shelter, that is, before he shifted his hips and the considerable heft of him was slotted perfectly against where you needed him most. 

The slip of his warm palm from the trembling skin of your belly raised goosebumps in its wake, and pulled a gasp from your mouth into his when it glided under your shit and landed on your breast. Those deft fingers you’d seen working away on all manner of things on this island, now plucked deliciously at your nipple. 

It was almost violent, both the storm outside, and your haste to divest him of his clothes. The need to feel that golden skin on yours was a hunger pang, both terrible and euphoric, that burned as brightly as the flashes of lightning that lit up the shelter. His eyes shone with the same intensity you felt, and instantly, he moved away to help you, too, the two of you scrambling with a ferocity that bordered on anger. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot–” He hissed the words onto your face before kissing you again, and any softness was gone, his teeth clicked against yours before his tongue took yours and laid down the law. Your skin burned with want, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back before you moved your hand down between you to finally grasp his cock. He pulled away from your mouth to stare down where you held onto him, drunk with the sight of just how big he looked in your grip. 

“Is this what you’ve been wanting?” He held himself above you, watching as you stroked him slowly. 

“God, yes, I wanted this - I want you to fuck me–” you swiped your thumb over the head, fat pearly drops of his own arousal making it slippery, “I want you to come inside me, make me feel good-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence before his mouth claimed yours once more and pulled your hand away in order to slip himself between the lips of your sex, coating himself in you for a moment before he finally slipped inside. 

“Jesus Christ, man.” You breathed the words onto his face at the stretch, at the way he seemed to have taken up every inch of space inside you, making you overflow with him. He didn’t give you any time to adjust, his hips snapping in a toe-curling rhythm. For a few minutes, there were no more words left, the only thing you can manage is to whimper, then moan in earnest when he ducked his head down to capture a nipple in his mouth. Your fingers like talons in his hair, keeping him close to your breast while your cunt soaked him in your want.

He let go of the perky bud with a pop, his eyes glazed. 

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna come so fast,” he almost slurred his words, pussy drunk, “your tight little cunt is gonna make me fucking come–” He sped up, his cock punching into you hard enough to make your breasts bounce, hard enough to make a lewd noise where you’re joined and you desperately wanted him to slow down so you can catch up. 

“Wait–” Your legs squeezed where they’d hitched up high on his hips, “Frankie–” His rhythm stuttered for a moment before he thrust again, deep, filling you with his come, and you almost cried at the thought that he might be done so soon.

“Fuck-” He ground himself as deep as he could, milking himself inside you for a moment before pulling away abruptly, hissing through the oversensitivity to look at his handiwork, “that’s so fucking pretty baby, look at me dripping out-” He smiled at you, almost laughing at the look of anguish on your face at the emptiness, “what’s wrong?” His hand rubbed at your belly for a moment before it slipped down, and two big fingers filled you back up. “I know you didn’t come, but you don’t think I’m just going to leave you like this, right?” He pumped slowly, making you keen when he pressed against something holy inside of you. “No, I got you, baby.” 

One moment he was kneeling between your legs, and the next, he was flat on his belly, his face pressed up against your pussy, tongue right on the button of your clit. 

The moan you let out was obscene. His tongue circled your clit with devastating precision, over and over again, until you were staring down at him with your mouth open, begging and praying incoherently for him to keep going just like that. His eyes were bright, laser-focused on you just like his tongue, and his free hand came up to hold onto your breast, pinching at your nipple, and all of a sudden, the sting snapped, the wave crested, and you practically folded in half, swearing loudly as you gushed around his fingers.

-

You weren’t sure how much time passed, but the storm got a little stronger, and louder as you both lay in the shelter, quiet and content to hold each other. Lightning turned the darkened skies into day for a moment before the boom of thunder shook you to your core. 

“It’s okay, just loud.” He said it softly into your ear with the same patience he’d had when he bandaged your foot, the comforting words dads usually used for their children.

“I know, it just startled me.” 

“Force of habit.”

“Your daughter, is she scared of thunderstorms?” You turned towards him, making yourself comfortable in his embrace.

“Only at first.” His smile was wistful, “She always jumps from the first big boom but then laughs,” his eyes crinkled, and it was hard not to notice just how handsome he is, the care and love he has for his daughter shining out through his eyes. “Sorry, I just miss her a lot.” It faltered, that handsome smile, and it made you sad for him.

“Don’t be sorry. I can’t imagine how hard all this must be for you.” Guilt swirled in your chest at the way you’d treated him before, at your general attitude towards everyone up until getting stranded. “I’m sorry about how I was–” He shook his head no, much too kind, kinder than you deserved, and you pushed through. 

“No, let me say it. I’m sorry about how I treated you - I was horrible.”

“You weren’t that bad.” 

“Yes, I was, so spoiled and insensitive, I didn’t even give your situation a second thought. All I cared about was myself and I can’t even believe it now. I’m sorry. I’m really lucky to have you here.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, one of his palms rubbing your back soothingly, “you’ve definitely had a big turnaround.” He laughed, and you smacked his arm playfully. “I’m lucky you’re here too. I would have been miserable by myself.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but sigh at the simple comfort human touch could bring. “Not sure you would have ever agreed to go out with me had we not been stuck here together.” 

His words were light, and for a moment, you wanted to protest, but you didn’t think you could, and it shamed you further.

“Oh god, what a moron I was.” You groaned, pressing your face into the warm skin of his neck. 

“You weren’t a moron, maybe a little oblivious, and I don’t mean that in a cruel way. You and I are in very different circles. I doubt our paths would have even crossed, but I’m glad they did because as much as you have the power to drive me nuts, I really like you.” His hands continued their comforting sweep across your skin, lulling you into the most relaxed state you could remember being in, in a long time. 

“I would have been an idiot to not give you a chance. You’re so sweet and smart, and so strong, so fucking handsome, too. You take care of me and make me laugh, and you have done your best to keep us both safe and sound and I’m just - I’m ashamed that maybe in the past I would have been too shallow and stuck up to notice.” The storm abates as you confess some feelings you’d been harboring. 

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. I think I probably would have dismissed you just as quickly for similarly shallow reasons. As gorgeous as you are, I most likely would have written you off as some rich trust fund-baby.” He half-shrugged.

“I’m still sorry. It’s because of me that we’re here.” 

“I could have said no.”

“I pressured you with money. I pushed even though you’d said it was unsafe.”

“I still could have said no. Let’s just forget it all, everything that happened before we got here. Point is we’re here, and we have to keep it together until someone finds us.” His hand kept its rhythm, sweeping over any and all skin, casting its spell of comfort until both it and the storm lulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

-----

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[flightlessangelwings]

Drowning in You

Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Word count-2.5k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), exes to lovers, alcohol, pining, feelings, f receiving oral (all hail Frankie the pussy eating king!), overstim, sexytimes in a car, reader is able bodied but otherwise not described other than body parts, no use of y/n

Prompts- Both/all parties get caught in the rain. / "Kiss me in the rain. Please?"

Notes- Written for @undercoverpena April Showers Challenge! Getting this in on literally the last day of the month too lol! But I had fun with this one so I hope y'all enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to also follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

Moodboard made by me

~

You never expected to see him here. Especially after all these years. You had broken up with Frankie so long ago… or had he broken up with you? Honestly it had been so long that you couldn’t even remember. Were you upset about one of his deployments? Was he upset that you worked too much? Was it something so inconsequential that you drew a blank? At this point, it didn’t even matter anymore.

As you stared at Francisco Morales- Frankie- from across the bar, all your old emotions bubbled up to the surface. He had more lines on his face than the last time you saw him, but it only made him more handsome. He still wore that same ratted baseball cap, but his hair looked a little longer as brown wavy locks poked out from under it. And his smile… even from far away you saw how his smile lit up his face. It made your heart flutter in your chest like you were a lovestruck school girl all over again. 

But time felt like it stopped when you and Frankie locked eyes from opposite sides of the room. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the temperature rise around you. All movement that surrounded you felt like it was in slow motion as you and Frankie just stared at each other, both as dumbfounded and surprised as the other. 

You hadn’t changed a bit. No, you were even more beautiful than the last time Frankie saw you. And the way your lips parted as you wore a stunned look across your face only brought up all the feelings he fought so hard to bury. The truth was not a day went by that Frankie didn’t think of you. So many times he picked up the phone to dial your number only to hang up before he could hit the call button. He couldn’t even remember why the two of you broke up, but he knew that letting you go was the biggest mistake of his life.

And he wasn’t about to let that happen again.

“Hi,” Frankie tried to sound smooth as he approached you, “You look…” he cleared his throat as he messed with his hat, “You look… Wow,” he breathed as a crooked smile lit up his face.

“Wow yourself,” you shimmied your shoulders subtly as chills ran up your spine from hearing his voice again. You fiddled with your fingers for a moment as nerves overtook you, “It’s good to see you, Frankie,” you said, “How have you been?”

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets, “You?”

“Same old,” you sounded playfully dismissive, as if neither of you cared about the past. All that mattered was the present, and maybe the future. “How are the guys?” you asked.

“Nothing’s changed.” It was a lie; so much had changed since the last time Frankie spoke to you. But now wasn’t the time for that. 

“That’s good,” you grinned. Shifting your weight from side to side, you felt like there was so much in the air between you two that needed to be let out. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to voice any of it. The tension was palpable, and even the strangers in the room could notice.

There was so much Frankie wanted to say, and yet none of it felt relevant. What could he possibly say to you after all these years? His chest felt tight and he felt like his throat was dry as he tried to swallow. And he was sure it got warmer in here since he came over to talk to you.

Frankie finally settled on, “Can I get you a drink?” 

Your eyes lit up and it made his heart pound in his chest, “Yes,” you breathed.

It was as if no time passed at all as you and Frankie shared drink after drink together. In an instant, you remembered what made you fall in love with him, and Frankie felt the same way about you. Both of you lost yourselves in each other as you talked and caught each other up on where you were in your lives.

“Hey, I bet I could still kick your ass at pool,” you shimmied your shoulders playfully as you motioned over to the empty pool table.

Frankie took a big swig of his drink and smiled widely, “You’re on!”

Heat built up between your bodies as you took turns shooting the balls into the net on the table. Every time Frankie came close to you, you felt your skin warm and tingle. And especially when he leaned so close against you that you thought he was going to kiss you. For a brief moment, you almost gave in as you unconsciously leaned in and glanced down at his lips as he teased you for missing a shot.

But, before you could make a move… 

“Alright love birds, last call,” the bartender interrupted you and Frankie, “It’s closing time.”

“Oh shit,” you laughed as you took a step back, “I didn’t even realize it got so late!”

“Me either,” Frankie’s eyes never left your figure as you put the pool sticks away. He flagged down the bartender and paid for both of your tabs before he returned to you, “Can I walk you to your car?”

“I actually didn’t drive here,” you admitted sheepishly, suddenly embarrassed about being out so late on your own. But you weren’t on your own, were you? You almost forgot about the friends you came here with, and you were sure they all left hours ago as you were catching up with your ex. 

“Can I give you a ride home then?” he asked, hopeful.

You smiled at him, “Yeah.”

It was dark as you and Frankie walked through the parking lot of the bar. Most of the cars were gone, and those that remained were about to drive away. Only Frankie’s truck parked on the far end of the lot was left.

“Still got that shitty old truck, huh?” you jested.

“Hey, this piece of shit has done me good,” Frankie laughed, “She may be getting up in years but she’s still got some life left in her.”

All you could do was grin widely. Yep, he was the same old Frankie that you fell in love with all those years ago. The same Frankie that you missed every day. The same Frankie that you wished you could get back and be the way things used to be…

“Well,” Frankie groaned as you both reached the passenger side, “Your ride waites,” he made a scene about hamming it up for you, making you burst into laughter.

“I’ve missed you, Frankie.” The confession slipped out before you could stop it.

He froze. 

Under the low light of the streetlamps, you looked stunning. Even in the darkness, Frankie could see the way your eyes shone. The tone shifted as he reached out and cupped the side of your face, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“I missed you too, baby,” he murmured softly.

Your lips parted to let out a deep breath as you found yourself drawn closer and closer to his face. You glanced down at his lips for a moment, remembering the way they were always so soft against yours. But, just as you felt his breath on your skin, it suddenly started to pour.

“Shit!” Frankie hissed as you both found yourself soaking wet in the downpour that came from nowhere, “Quick, get in!”

“Wait,” you grabbed his shirt, “Kiss me!”

“What?!”

“Kiss me. Right here, in the rain,” you sounded more sure of yourself this time, “Please?”

Frankie exhaled sharply as he hovered his lips over yours, “I can’t say no to that.”

With that, Frankie crashed his lips against yours in a deep and desperate kiss. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, feeling your soaked body against his. Swallowing the moan you let out, Frankie let out a groan of his own as he tasted you for the first time in years. And it was way better than he remembered. Instantly, Frankie was addicted to you again.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmured against your lips as he broke away briefly only to kiss you again.

“Frankie…”

“Baby,” he cut you off, “I gotta tell you… Now that I’ve had a taste, I fucking need more…”

“What’s stopping you then?” you smirked as your tone dropped, your tone obvious.

“Now? Fucking nothing,” he smirked against your face as he grabbed you as yanked you towards the backseat. Fumbling with the door, Frankie quickly ushered you inside before climbing in on top of you and shutting the door behind him. Laughter erupted from both of you as you clumsily tried to situate yourself in the cramped backseat of Frankie’s truck. 

“Feels just like old times,” you mumbled in between frantic kisses as you felt yourself stripped of your soaking wet clothes.

Frankie let out a short laugh, “Like when we were younger and I’d fuck you in my back of my old beat up piece of shit car for hours,” he groaned as he yanked your bottoms off of you, “Fuck…” he breathed in awe.

All you could do was moan as you felt the heat of Frankie’s gaze warm you from the inside. Suddenly, the cold rain felt like a steamy mist on your skin as he looked at your pure pure need and adoration. 

“Shit baby,” Frankie purred before he dove into you in a flash.

You threw your head back and screamed as his lips made contact with your pussy, immediately sending you into a state of ecstasy. Pleasure overwhelmed you as Frankie’s tongue worked your fold with expert precision that you knew and loved from him. Moans filled the truck as your hands landed in his hair, pushing the cap off his head so you could bury your fingers in his tick locks.

“Fuck… Frankie…” you moaned as your eyes rolled back into your head. 

The rain continued to pound on the roof of Frankie’s tuck as he devoured you like a man starved. And perhaps that’s what Frankie was. Ever since the day you left, he wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms again, to taste you again. And now that he had his wish, he was not going to let you go.

Frankie’s emotions overwhelmed him as he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer against his face. He felt no need for air as he licked and slurped greedily at your pussy, savoring your taste and every sound you made. With every flick of his tongue, Frankie felt his cock stiffen more. But he ignored it. All he cared about was drawing in your pussy, drowning in giving you the pleasure you both craved after so long apart. 

“Oh baby… Fuck…” you cried out as tears filled your eyes.

As much as he wanted to coo soothing words, Frankie found that he couldn’t pull himself away from you. Licking down your folds, he darted his tongue in and out of your entrance a few times before he ran back up and sucked hard at your clit. The action pulled a cry from you that drowned out the pouring rain and you tugged at his hair harder.

That’s it baby, Frankie thought as he groaned into your body.

Your hips bucked against Frankie’s face on their own. Up and down, up and down, you rocked your hips against his face, feeling the combination of his tongue and his nose against your folds that created a pleasure unlike anything you ever felt before. You cried out in ecstasy as you felt a tingle emanate from your core.

“Fuck… Frankie… I’m…” you moaned as you felt your climax quickly approach.

Frankie didn’t let up. Instead, he grabbed you even tighter and picked up his pace with his tongue. Flicking your clit over and over again, he pushed harder, knowing exactly which spots drove you wild. Your moans and cries were music to his ears, highlighted by the sound of the rain that continued outside, surrounding you in your little pocket of bliss. 

“Fran…” you couldn’t even get his entire name out before your orgasm crashed into you like a wave hitting the beach. Your legs trembled on either side of his head as you threw your head back and screamed loudly. You felt like you were floating, with only Frankie’s tongue and hands to keep you grounded.

Even as your peak hit, Frankie still didn’t stop. He was too consumed with you to even think of breaking away. Instead, he kept going. Even as you whimpered from becoming overstimulated, he kept going. Frankie sucked and slurped at your cunt like he was eating a melting ice cream. And to him, you were just as sweet, if not sweeter.

Tears fell down your cheeks as your mind went blank. Even the uncomfortable cushion of his backseat didn’t bother you as you let out a desperate whine. In the break between your screams, you heard the rain hit the roof of the truck… as well as the obscene slurping of Frankie in between your legs. Picking your head up, you saw the outline of him in the dim light, his head bobbing up and down as he refused to let you go.

“Oh fuck…” you moaned as another climax hit you out of nowhere. Your body went limp as you cried out in bliss once more, feeling the overwhelming pleasure that Frankie’s tongue brought you. “Fuck!” you screamed as you yanked on his hair, letting him know you finally had enough.

With one final loud pop, Frankie finally broke away from your body. His eyes were glazed over and his chin glistened from your juices. He stared at you in silence, the only sound being the rain outside as you both caught your breaths. The windows were so fogged up that no one could see inside even if there was anyone out to peer in, and Frankie could barely see out.

“You alright, baby?” Frankie asked, breaking the silence. 

You blinked your eyes open and your heart fluttered in your chest from the way he looked at you, “Never fucking better,” you grinned.

Frankie leaned over, pushing himself forward to cover your body and take your lips in a slow yet still heated kiss, “Me too,” he murmured against your lips.

You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him in closer, “I missed you so much, Frankie,” your voice was like a plea.

He cupped your face, “I missed you too, baby,” he replied, his tone soft. Frankie’s thumb brushed a tear off your cheek before he spoke again, “Hey,” he started with a hint of a smirk in his voice, “How about we go back to my place and make up for lost time?”

You grinned widely, “What are we waiting for?” you kissed him again, savoring the taste of him on your tongue. 

“Absolutely nothing,” he replied with a grin of his own and a bright future ahead for both of you despite the downpour outside. 

[burntheedges]

Worth It For Once

Frankie Morales x f!reader | 18+ | ao3  chapter word count: 9.6k Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge, song: Slut!

summary: After months of the whispers, rude comments and snide glances from people around town, you’re fed up. You’re trying not to let them get to you, but it’s getting harder to shake it off. And then you meet Frankie Morales.

a/n: this is part of @beskarandblasters' Taylor Swift Drabble (lol) Challenge! My song is "Slut!" from 1989. Sorry, Kel, this isn’t exactly a drabble. Spanish translations provided in parentheses. Thank you as always @katareyoudrilling aka the best beta 🧡

tags/warnings: flirting, banter, food and drink mention, reader has no description other than having a vagina and brief mention of breasts, able-bodied reader, reader’s ex spread mean rumors about her, small town gossip, bartender!reader, derogatory language used in a derogatory way (slut, other things) (not by Frankie), Frankie speaks Spanish and reader understands, pet names (hermosa, baby, querida, bebita), smut: kissing, groping, hickies, oral (f!receiving), p-in-v sex (protected), fingering (f!receiving), cuddling, oral against a wall

...

You could hear them talking about you.

You’d heard your name, which gave it away, but also the words “Chris”, “easy,” and “slut” and, well. You knew.

It’s not like they tried to hide it, really. But you always knew when they were talking about you. If the glances and overheard words didn’t give it away, the laughing whenever you walked by did.

You sighed as you gathered the glasses from the newly empty table by the low stage at the back of the room. “Just ignore them,” Laura had whispered to you earlier. “They’re not worth it.”

As always, it didn't really help.

You carried the dirty dishes back behind the bar and ignored the sudden, ostentatious hush from the corner booth full of guys that you had to pass to get there. They could at least try to be less obvious about it. You locked eyes briefly with Laura, the other bartender on duty that night and your best friend, and she frowned sympathetically. You shook your head in response. You both knew there was nothing you could do about it.

Once you were done dropping off your load in the kitchen, you allowed yourself one brief moment of leaning against the wall of the dark hallway that led back to the bar. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. 

“Fuck them,” you whispered to yourself. “And fuck him.” You shook your head and heaved yourself back up, heading back to work.

…

“You’d think they’d get tired of it,” Laura remarked, pushing her way back behind the bar with the signed tab from the corner booth. After a couple more hours of irritation they had finally left. 

“Not so far,” you sighed. “And it’s not just them. They’re just the worst ones.” Chris’ friends hadn’t let up in the 6 months since you’d been broken up and didn’t show any signs of losing interest in making your life miserable.

Laura furrowed her brow and made a disgusted noise. “They’re such assholes. At least he knows better than to come here.”

You nodded. It was the one silver lining around the whole situation – Chris would never set foot in this bar again, if he knew what was good for him. “Bill would kick him out and he knows it.” Bill was your boss and the owner and he had hated Chris even before you’d started dating.

Laura laughed, darkly. “He may be able to lie to most of the town, but Bill would never believe him.” She sighed as she started cleaning up behind the bar. “I don’t know why they all believe him anyway.”

You shrugged. You’d had a lot of time to think about this question, and you were pretty sure you knew the answer. It was simple, in the end. “He’s from here. I’m not.”

With a huff, Laura rolled her eyes. “That’s so stupid. You’re from here, too. You were six when your parents moved to town.”

You smiled a little. She was a good friend, but she was wrong about this. “That’s not enough for them, and you know it.” Them being all the old money families in town, the ones who hadn’t thought you were good enough for Chris in the first place. The ones who heard about your break up and clucked like satisfied old hens, finally proven right. The ones who gossiped about you over brunch and at the golf course every weekend. She was never right for him anyway. He can do better. You knew that’s what they thought – some of them had said it to your face.

But at least your bar wasn’t really their scene. 

“God I hate this town,” Laura muttered, violently shoving the dishwasher closed. “How’d we get stuck here, anyway.”

You laughed and nudged her with your elbow. “It’s not so bad. Just have to ignore them.”

She eyed you. “Is that working for you? Ignoring them?”

You bit your lip and turned, trying to hide your face from her scrutiny. “Most days, sure.” You felt her arms come around you from behind and smiled at the hug.

“My offer to punch him still stands.” 

Your smile turned into a grin. She’d offered the day of the break up and reminded you often ever since.

“Thank you, but I’ll pass.”

Laura grumbled as you both got busy cleaning up behind the bar and turned to talking about your plans for your upcoming day off. One more day of work and you had almost a whole free weekend, for once. You tried to shrug off your tension from a night of dodging the looks of the many people in this town who’d decided you were worth about as much as a bit of dirt on the bottom of their shoes. It sort of worked.

…

The next day was your last day of work before your day off, but you didn’t work until the evening. You celebrated by sleeping until almost noon.

Once you were awake and showered and feeling generally more alive, you decided to head to the coffee shop downtown for a late breakfast. You ignored the possibility that you might run into one of Chris’ friends there – you’d decided months ago not to let them keep you from doing what you wanted.

You were pleased to see that it wasn’t too busy when you arrived and your favorite table by the window was open and waiting for you. You ordered quickly and snagged it, settling in with your current book.

You glanced up as the door opened with a light jingle a few minutes later and did a double take. 

It was him.

Not your ex, thank God, but him – the man who’d been slowly taking over your thoughts and daydreams for the last month or so.

Frankie Morales, recent arrival in town and newbie-turning-regular at the bar you worked at. He’d been flirting with you since the moment you met, and you were living in fear of the day he would hear the rumors and stop. 

As he stepped into the shop he removed his hat and ran his hand through his curly hair, which caused it to fluff up and fall cutely around his face. He replaced the hat quickly, though, and glanced around the shop. You started to look away, afraid to be caught, but he met your eyes and grinned.

Changing course, he turned from the path to the counter to walk towards your spot at the window.

“Fancy meeting you here,” his brown eyes twinkled at you as he came to stand next to you. “You busy? Can I join you?” He nodded hopefully towards the empty chair across from you, and you started to smile.

“Sure, Frankie,” you felt hesitant but you didn’t want him to leave. You started to rearrange your belongings to give him some space.

“I’ll order and be right back.” He gestured back over his shoulder at the counter.

You nodded and smiled and tried not to stare as he turned and walked away from you.

There was a short line at the register. You tried to keep from watching him wait there but only succeeded in limiting it to quick glances at him out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t help but trace your eyes over the way he looked in his jeans and denim shirt. He was so broad. You shook your head, trying to clear it.

Frankie was next in line when the door jingled again, and to your dismay two of the guys who’d just spent the entire previous night laughing at you at the bar walked in. You ducked your head, hoping they wouldn’t notice you. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched in growing horror as they came to stand behind Frankie. You clenched your hands in your lap and tried to breathe.

One of them clearly spotted you and a smirk came across his face that sent your stomach plummeting to your feet. He elbowed his friend and you couldn’t hear what he said, but Frankie clearly could.

His back stiffened and his hands clenched into fists. You desperately wanted to know what they were saying and you really didn’t want Frankie to hear it. You were frozen, wondering if this was it, if this was the end of whatever had been building between you since you met. Wondering if it was over before it even began.

Frankie ordered and you could see the tension in his frame as he tried to ignore the two men behind him when they started to laugh. You couldn't take it anymore and closed your eyes, hiding behind your hands.

Just a moment later you heard footsteps returning to your table.

“Hey,” his voice was low and soothing and you couldn’t help but look up at him. He was still tense, but his face was gentle as he looked at you. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You swallowed, mouth dry. You couldn’t tell if he was offering to go somewhere together, but you shook your head regardless. 

“I try not to let them make choices for me about where I go or what I do.” You twisted your fingers together, wondering if that was too direct, too much of an admission. Did he know?

Frankie nodded, a thoughtful frown on his face as he sat across from you. His eyes darted behind you to your right and his frown deepened. You resisted the urge to turn and look. 

“Is it always like that?” As he asked, he slid his right hand across the table to touch the back of yours lightly with his fingertips. You shivered.

“Not with everyone.” He slid his hand over yours and squeezed gently. You continued, “but with some people in town, yeah. What–” you cleared your throat. “What did they say?” You needed to know what they’d said in his hearing, but at the same time, you never wanted to know. You’d heard enough.

Frankie shook his head, scowling. “I’m not gonna repeat it.” 

You winced.

“Hey,” he squeezed your hand again, leaning towards you. “I’m not listening to them, alright? I promise. I haven’t, and I won’t.”

You blinked, taking that in. He hasn’t? Past tense? “You mean, you’ve heard something– I mean, something else? They said something? Before now?”

Frankie ran his thumb gently over the back of your hand, searching between your eyes for something. “Yes. But I haven’t paid them any attention. I promise, ok?”

You took a deep breath and tried to push back the pricks of emotion you felt building behind your eyes. “I’m sorry, Frankie, I don’t know what you heard but I can imagine, but it’s not–”

“Shh,” he hushed you gently and scooted his chair around the small round table towards you so he could take both of your hands in his. “Hey, no. I promise, I’m not listening to them. I know what small towns are like, hermosa. I know what small people are like. I’d rather hear about you from you. I–” he smiled, a bit sheepishly. “I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to ask you out for weeks.”

You grasped at his hands, clutching where he was already holding them. “You have?”

“Yeah, I have. Just wasn’t sure you’d be interested.” You scoffed and he smiled. He said your name quietly and leaned forward. “D’you want to go out with me?”

You bit your lip. “Are you sure? You know they won’t– they’ll talk. I don’t want them to start with you, too.”

Frankie frowned and looked down. When he met your eyes again his gaze was fierce. It pinned you in place.

“They’ll talk anyway, and I don’t give a fuck what they think.” He squeezed your hands. “I only care what you think. Can I take you out, hermosa?”

You nodded and started to smile. 

He smiled back. “When are you free?” 

“Well, tomorrow’s my day off,” you started. He grinned when you continued, “how’s tomorrow night?”

He nodded, looking excited. “Baby, I’d love that. Mind if I drop by your work later today, too?”

Baby. You shivered and nodded and as he started to plan your date, you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face.

…

You headed into work that night with the smile still on your face. Frankie had promised to come by the bar that night, so you’d be seeing him soon. That thought combined with your excitement for the date had you floating through the doors of Bill’s bar.

Laura took one look at you and demanded details, which you happily provided as you got ready in the back together. 

Laura knew him too, since Frankie and his friend Santiago had first visited the bar almost two months before, when Frankie had first moved to town. His best friend had helped him move and stayed in town for a few days while he got settled, you’d learned that night. Among other things. (Like how pretty Frankie’s eyes were when he smiled at you, and how he hadn’t stopped smiling at you the whole night. How he’d been looking at you like that ever since.)

You knew you’d been standoffish in the beginning. You’d wondered if he’d figured it out, if he’d heard the things they said about you and seen the way they looked at you in town. And now you knew he had, but as you thought back over the time you’d known him, you realized you couldn’t figure out when that might have been. He’d never treated you differently, never stopped flirting with you. Never hesitated, never looked at you with anything but delight and wonder in his eyes.

“So, a date with Frankie, huh,” she nudged you with her elbow as you walked back towards the front together, ready to start your shift.

You nodded. “He’s coming by tonight.” You felt the smile tugging at the edge of your lips where it had made its home since you saw him at the coffee shop. “Not sure when, though.”

She went through the door first, and you heard her laugh. “Now.”

“What?” you asked as you came through. You turned to see what she was looking at.

“Now. He’s already here.” Laura kept laughing as she headed to the other end of the bar and you grinned as you locked eyes with the man waiting for you at the bar. He smiled back and watched you approach. 

“Frankie, didn’t you just get done with work like half an hour ago?”

He shrugged. “Wanted to see you, hermosa. Just went home to change and figured, why wait?”

You laughed. “You know I won’t be able to talk to you much, right?” You wanted to stay and chat but you knew work would pull you away, repeatedly.

“I know.” He nodded. “I’ll be here when you’re free.”

The idea of Frankie wanting to see you so badly he’d sit here alone made something twist in your chest. “Ok, Frankie.” 

It wasn’t busy yet, so you stayed to chat until some of the regulars started to arrive. Somehow, even with the interruptions of you needing to actually do your job, you felt connected with him like you were on two ends of a string. You’d pour a drink and glance up, and find him already looking at you. Or think about him and look over to find him smiling down at his drink, looking like maybe he was thinking about the same thing.

Laura teased you mercilessly about the smile on your face that you couldn’t seem to get rid of.

Your good mood lasted through the first couple of hours of your shift, but right after the dinner rush you turned towards the taps to find Laura in front of you, scowling.

“What is it?” She shadowed you as you started to pour a couple of pints for the guys at the other end of the bar.

“They’re here,” she whispered, gesturing with her head towards the back corner. 

Your shoulders climbed up around your ears at the news. “Of course they are. Which ones?”

She crossed her arms and huffed. “Jared and his buddies.” Jared was Chris’ best friend, and usually the ringleader whenever he wasn’t around. 

“Great,” you muttered.

She helped you carry the drinks back. “Hey, you know I’ve got their table. Don’t worry about it.” You nodded and bumped her hip with yours in thanks.

Laura headed over to meet them and you tried to put them out of your mind. They were all the way across the bar from where Frankie was sitting, and you moved back towards him. 

He was studying you as you walked up and you knew he’d probably seen them come in. “Is that more of them?” he asked, voice low. You nodded. He sighed. “I’m glad Laura’s got your back.”

“Yeah,” you agreed as you refilled his water. “I usually don’t have to talk to them at all.”

Frankie tilted his head, thoughtful. “Do they come in here just to bother you?”

You sighed and leaned towards him, crossing your arms. “I think so. They never came here before.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Before?” He repeated, obviously curious.

“Before I broke up with their friend. He’s not here, Bill won’t allow it.”

“Good,” Frankie murmured, brow furrowed. “But they keep coming back?”

“At least a few times a week,” you confirmed. 

He glanced across the bar at them, frowning. “What do they do?”

You shook your head and reached out to turn his head back to face you. He smiled and tilted his jaw so that his cheek rested against your palm. “Mostly just stare and talk about me. I can’t hear them, usually, but they make it obvious.”

You could tell he wanted to ask why. Why they bothered you, why they did all this. The surprising thing was how much you wanted to tell him.

“I’ll tell you about it later, ok? Not here.” You brushed your thumb over his cheek and his smile grew.

He nodded. “Ok, baby. But you don’t have to tell me anything, it’s like I told you. I want to learn about you from you. There’s no rush.” 

You smiled, warmed by his words, and headed back to work.

…

A few hours later, the crowd was winding down and Laura waved you off when you offered to stay and close with her. 

“We don’t need you,” she said, gesturing down the bar towards Sean, whose shift had started later than yours. “Go take your man home.” You laughed, and glanced back at Frankie, but he wasn’t looking at you. 

He was frowning and looking off to his right because Jared was walking straight towards him. 

You squeezed Laura’s arm and she turned to look. “Shit,” she muttered. “Maybe he’s just going to the bathroom.”

You both winced as Jared stopped right beside Frankie’s chair. You started to move towards them, but Jared was already speaking. 

“... you shouldn’t bother with her, man, she’s a real piece of work.” Jared’s snooty tone grated on your nerves. It’d been a while since you had to listen to it.

“Excuse me?” Frankie’s voice was low and you could hear the anger in it. He looked absolutely furious, mouth drawn into a straight line, brows furrowed. His hands were clenched on the bar in front of him.

“Hey, ready to go?” You spoke only to Frankie, ignoring Jared, who huffed. “I’m off for the night.” Frankie nodded, visibly taking a deep breath and releasing his fists.

Jared sneered and you caught it out of the corner of your eye. “You know, even for one night she’s not worth the–” 

You cut him off before he could say whatever vile thing he was thinking. “Get lost, Jared.”

He huffed again and turned from you to Frankie. “Look, man, I get she’s probably fine in bed, given where she’s been, but I promise you, you don’t want to touch this one with a 10-foot pole.”

Frankie looked like he was thinking about putting Jared on the ground and you decided enough was enough. 

“C’mon, Frankie,” you slipped out from behind the bar and tugged him towards the back with you. “Let me grab my stuff and we can go.”

“Hijo de puta,” (son of a whore) Frankie muttered. He made a low sound almost like a growl and you startled. He looked immediately apologetic. “Sorry, baby,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your hairline. It was the first time he’d done anything like that, and you almost froze in place at how nice his lips felt on your skin. “Let’s go.”

Jared scoffed behind you, but you were already turning away. “Fine, man. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you about the town slut when you regret this later.”

You heard Sean start to threaten to throw Jared out so you grabbed Frankie’s arm and dragged him back to the staff area. He immediately gathered you in his arms as soon as you let the break room door fall shut behind you.

“Mierda,” (shit) he breathed, burying his face in your neck. “That’s the type of shit you’re dealing with? I am so sorry baby.” He pulled you in tighter, and you relaxed into his hold. “I promise I can keep it together. Just took me by surprise, how bad it was.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered. “I’ll tell you about it. But let’s get out of here first.”

“Hey,” he started, pulling back. “You don’t have to–”

“No, I know,” you interrupted, gathering your stuff. “I want to.”

He nodded and slid his hand into yours as you turned to leave. “Wanna go out the back?” He squeezed your hand gently as he asked.

You sighed and nodded. “Might as well.”

The two of you slipped out the back of the kitchen and turned to walk around the building to your cars. “Follow me home?” You asked nudging him. 

Frankie smiled. “You sure?”

“Yes.” You leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “C’mon.”

Soon enough the two of you were pulling into your complex and walking up to your door. You felt his hand come to rest on the small of your back as you dug for your keys and you leaned back into it for a moment. The way he’d started touching you more today since you agreed to a date was sending your mind spinning. You hoped he’d still want to, after your talk.

“Come in, Frankie.” You invited him in and he followed your lead in removing his shoes before you both dropped onto the couch. 

“Wait, sorry, do you want something to drink?” You started to stand again but he stopped you. 

“No, I’m fine. Just had plenty of water from a very attentive bartender.” He winked, and you laughed. “C’mere.” He tugged on your hand and you slid closer until you were settled on the cushion next to him, slightly turned towards him. You let yourself relax, leaning sideways against the back of your couch. He looked so warm and broad and comfortable in your home – you wished you felt up to leaning on him instead. But you needed a little bit of space for this. 

You sat for a minute, trying to figure out where to start. As if he could sense your hesitation, he reached out and took your hand in his again, and you sighed. “Ok, well. I guess I should explain.” 

“Whatever you want to tell me, I’ll listen.” He started to rub the back of your hand with his thumb and you smiled. 

“Ok. Here we go.” You drew in a deep breath and tried to let his presence ground you. You stared down at your joined hands as you spoke. “I was dating Chris for almost a year. It went ok, I guess, for a while. But it turns out he’s a massive asshole.” Frankie squeezed your hand. “Yeah, I should have known better. I’ve known him all my life. But he was never mean like some of them.”

“Them?” Frankie asked. You could feel that he was looking at your face, but you couldn’t look away from the way his thumb was caressing your hand. 

“The rich kids. The ones whose families have been here since forever, the ones with land and big houses and so on. They were always mean to anyone who wasn’t like them. And I was never like them.” With your free hand you started to idly pick at a stubborn thread that was sticking out of your couch cushion. It refused to budge and you bit your lip.

You sighed. “But he wasn’t mean, back in school. So when he asked me out I gave him a chance. We’d all been away to college and come back. I figured he’d probably grown up some. And it seemed like he had, for a while.” You shrugged. The thread started to wiggle a little and you tugged at it harder. “But he’s not different. He used to bring me to family stuff, and his parents always treated me like shit and he swore he didn’t notice. Then at the end I found out he’d been cheating on me for months, almost the whole relationship. And when I confronted him he caused a scene and flipped it around on me.”

Frankie stiffened and you closed your eyes. “Like a hundred people heard him yell that I’d been cheating on him with his friends, that they all told him it was true. I couldn’t believe it at the time — it was a side of him I’d never seen before.” You laughed to yourself, darkly. “He’s a great actor. And then on my way out of the house his mom accused me of stealing some jewelry — the earrings I was wearing. Which he had given me a gift.” You opened your eyes, finally, and saw that you’d tugged so hard the thread was pulling away from the fabric of the couch, but it looked like it might create a run in the fabric. You knew you should stop tugging on it, but you couldn’t. “But it was enough. Now the rich people in town who all go to the same country club treat me like shit and whisper behind my back. Chris started dating some new girl a few months ago but she’s rich, too.”

Suddenly Frankie’s free hand smoothed over yours, and he gently pulled yours away from where you’d been about to create a hole in the fabric of your couch cushion. He tugged both of your hands into his lap. “What’s up with the guys who come to the bar, then?”

You groaned and finally looked up to meet his eyes. “I have no idea. I can’t figure out if they know he was lying and just decided to protect him, or if they believe him and decided to make my life miserable. Maybe they just hate me for some reason. Whatever it is, I just try to ignore it.”

Frankie frowned, gently, and squeezed both of your hands. “You deserve better.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you. I know.”

He nodded and finally smiled. “Good.” He looked at you for a moment, studying your face. “Thank you for telling me.”

You nodded, not sure what to say. But Frankie continued, “I promise not to lose it on those guys.”

“They’d deserve it,” you laughed as you agreed. “But they’re not worth the trouble.”

Frankie looked thoughtful as he lifted both of your hands to press soft kisses along your knuckles. “Well, hermosa, I’m glad you agreed to go out with me.”

You perked up and tried not to look anxious. “You still want to go out? Are you sure?”

He shot you a look and you laughed a little. “Of course I do, baby.” He leaned a little bit closer and continued, voice low. “I mean it, you deserve better. And I want to give it to you, if you’ll let me. I want to give you everything.”

Your breath caught in your throat. All you could do was nod. He grinned. “Good.”

…

The next night, you were anxious.

Frankie said he’d pick you up at 6pm, so at 5:55pm you were standing nervously behind the front door of your apartment, getting a text pep talk from Laura.

He seems like a good guy. But if he says or does anything weird just text me. I’ll come get you.

You smiled. This was your first date, the first time you’d really dressed up, in six months, and you were nervous. But Laura was right – Frankie seemed like a good guy. You rocked back on your heels as you waited by your door. Maybe this would work out, after all.

Just then, someone knocked, and your smile grew as you flung the door open.

Frankie looked nervous on the other side of it and your breath caught in your throat as you took him in. He had on dark jeans, a button up shirt, and his hair was styled without a hat. 

“Frankie, you look–”

“Hermosa, te–”

You both laughed when you talked over each other. Frankie stepped forward to tangle your fingers together. 

“This is gorgeous on you, baby.” With his free hand he ran his fingertips down your side and you shivered. 

“You’re looking pretty handsome yourself, Frankie.” He blushed in such an adorable way that you wanted to kiss him before you even got out of your apartment. You cleared your throat. “Shall we?”

Frankie nodded and stepped backwards to lead you out of your apartment. He kept his fingers laced with yours as you locked the door and made your way to his car.

“So where are we going?” You asked once you were settled in the passenger seat. Frankie had wanted it to be a surprise, and you wondered what he picked. 

“Well, hermosa, I thought you might enjoy getting out of town for a bit.” You looked at him, surprised. He shrugged. “I heard at work that there’s a restaurant in the next town over that’s pretty amazing, thought we could try it. Got a reservation and everything.”

You smiled and reached out to take his hand again. “Sounds perfect, Frankie.” 

On the way to the restaurant he updated you on his coworkers’ shenanigans – he usually visited the bar at least weekly and gave you the update then, and you felt a little thrill at the idea that you and Frankie were spending time together outside of where you worked. He wanted to spend time with you. He knew, and it still felt as easy and warm as it ever did with him. You sank into it with a smile.

“I’m really glad you asked me out, Frankie,” you told him in a lull in the conversation. You watched as he blushed again and grinned. 

“Me too, baby.” He tugged your hand up to press a kiss to your knuckles, the same way he had the night before. You bit your lip. His lips were so soft and you wondered what they might feel like somewhere else. It sent your head spinning and you took a deep breath. You knew this was only the beginning of the night. 

When you arrived, Frankie met you by the passenger door of his truck. He slid his hand around your waist until it came to rest on the small of your back, walking next to you into the restaurant. 

“Two for Morales,” he told the host, stepping away from you briefly. You took the opportunity to study the restaurant, since you’d never been. It was all deep, rich tones of green and brown, with dark wood floors and low lighting that flickered like candlelight. The tables were far enough apart to feel cozy and romantic and you smiled a little bit to yourself as you thought about Frankie seeking out a place like this for your date. 

The host gestured for you to follow and you started to weave through the restaurant towards a small round booth in the back corner. As you did, though, you heard a voice you recognized.

“What the devil is she doing here?” She wasn’t shouting, but then, she never had to to be heard. 

You tried to glance discreetly to your right and felt the blood drain out of your face. Chris’ new girlfriend and a bunch of their friends were seated at a long table near the front windows. You didn’t see Chris himself, thank God, but this wasn’t much better. 

Your foot came down funny on your next step. You felt yourself start to stumble and it kicked off a spiral of anxiety inside of you – you were going to hit the ground in the middle of this fancy restaurant, and they would see it, and –

But you barely wobbled before Frankie’s arm slipped around your waist again and supported you, keeping you upright. Somehow you both continued forward as if nothing had happened.

You could hear them whispering behind you as you moved farther into the restaurant and you struggled to take a deep breath. Frankie tightened his arm around you and leaned in. You could feel his lips brush against your ear as he whispered, “fuck ‘em. They don’t deserve even a glance from you, querida.” 

He guided you into your both and slid in next to you, and you realized you couldn’t see them from here. Frankie could, but he was only looking at you. You looked back and you felt the tension in your shoulders start to slip away.

You knew what they thought. You knew what they were probably saying, what Chris had told them about you after you broke up. But somehow, for once, it really didn’t matter. They might have been looking at you, but suddenly you couldn’t feel their stares. You had Frankie’s eyes on you, only for you, and that was worth more than anything else. Your spine straightened and you leaned forward to tangle your fingers with his on the table. 

“You’re right, Frankie.” You smiled. “There’s only one person I want to look at in here, anyway.” 

He grinned and ducked his head. “I know you’ve caught me looking at you at the bar, hermosa.” 

You bit your lip. “Maybe. But only ‘cause I was looking back.”

Frankie laughed and lifted your hands to press another kiss to the back of yours. “Well, good. Having your eyes on me is all I’ve wanted.”

You felt your own cheeks heat as his words. You’d been suffering under the unwavering attention of half the town for months, slowly shrinking into yourself even as you tried not to let them get to you. But somehow the attention of this man was doing the exact opposite. You felt like you were glowing under his gaze, like you were emerging out of a long darkness into the sunlight at last. 

The rest of dinner felt the same. You lost yourself in the low lights, the warm room, the soft touches, the rumbling sound of Frankie’s voice as he flirted and laughed and whispered in your ear. You felt like you were in your own world with him in the booth as the sounds of the restaurant swirled around you but never quite reached you. The flicker of the soft light across his face captured your eyes and he smiled whenever he caught you looking at his mouth.

By the time you fought briefly over the check (Frankie won, but only because you secured a promise that you would pay for the next one) you felt like you were floating. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so wanted. You wanted to sink into Frankie and never come out.

He stood first and offered his hand as you stood from the table. You smiled up at him and took it. As he slipped his hand around your waist again you finally glanced back towards the front of the restaurant. You realized you’d completely forgotten they were there, but you remembered suddenly when you saw them again. They hadn’t left.

But you felt different than you had before. Frankie’s arm pulled you in and he started to walk towards the door. You looked at him and smiled, and felt yourself sink back into the connection the two of you had started to build over dinner. 

They might as well look, you thought as you walked past their table. You looked at Frankie again. I’d look at us, too.

You floated out the door and through the parking lot towards his car. You reached for the door handle but he stopped you, turning you around and crowding you back against the passenger door. 

Frankie’s eyes were dark and intent and you felt a shiver climb up your spine.

“Can I kiss you, hermosa?” He whispered into the air between you and you could have sworn you saw his words in the reflections of the lights and the stars above your head.

“Yes, Frankie,” you breathed. “Please–”

He leaned in and finally pressed his lips to yours, and you heard yourself moan into the kiss. His lips were soft as they pressed against yours, sending every thought and worry flying out of your head. You opened for him and he took the invitation, running his tongue lightly over your bottom lip. You gasped as he deepened the kiss.

After a few moments he broke away to press a line of kisses down your jaw and neck until his face was buried in your shoulder. “Fuck, hermosa,” he was breathing hard and you realized suddenly that you were, too. “You feel so good in my arms.” He kissed you again, on the spot where your neck sloped into your shoulder, and you shivered. “You looked so hot walking past those assholes without so much as sparing them a glance, you know that?”

You grinned up at the sky and tightened your hold around his neck. “I was just looking at you, Frankie.” You weren’t nervous anymore. You knew what you wanted. “Come home with me?”

He whipped his head up to stare at you. “Are you sure? I don’t– we don’t have to rush anything, baby.”

You nodded, warmed by his concern. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” You watched the grin take over his face, slow and sinful. 

“Me too, baby. I’d like nothing more than to go home with you,” he agreed, before kissing you again. 

“Then take me home, Frankie,” you mumbled against his mouth. He groaned and pulled away to do just that.

Your ride home was full of the best kind of tension. Frankie’s hand came to rest on your thigh and you resisted the urge to scoot it higher up your leg, holding it there under yours. You could feel the tension in his muscles as he held himself still.

By the time you reached your apartment you could have sworn you were both vibrating with the need to touch. 

As you unlocked your apartment door, Frankie stepped up behind you, just like he had the night before. This time he closed the distance and crowded up against your back, snaking his arms around your waist. You leaned back into him, distracted, until he lifted one hand to guide yours with the key towards the door.

You felt him huff a laugh against your neck. “Let’s get inside, querida. We’ve got things to do.” 

You laughed, charmed, as you finally opened your door. “Is that so?” You turned to look at him and his expression made something in your chest clench.

“It is,” he agreed, stepping towards you and closing the door behind him. He turned the lock and stepped forward again to pull you into his arms. “Hi, baby,” he whispered against your mouth, and you smiled as he kissed you. 

Frankie backed you into the wall by your door and you let your keys drop from your hands as you raised them to bury your fingers in his hair. His hands framed your face, flat on the wall on either side of your head as he leaned in. The kiss suddenly went from soft to searing as his body pressed yours into the wall. You could feel him everywhere, surrounding you, all down your front. You became suddenly aware of the hard length of his cock pressing against your hip and you gasped.

He kissed you again but then moved away to scrape his teeth lightly down your neck. He started worrying a mark on your neck under your ear, and you sighed.

“Frankie,” you breathed, tugging at his hair to bring his mouth back to yours. 

“Hmm?” He hummed into your mouth.

You reached back and tugged at one of his arms. “Touch me, Frankie.”

He was so close to you you could feel him shudder in response. “Is that what you want, bebita?” You nodded and felt him smile against your cheek. He moved his right hand from the wall to your side, squeezing your hip. “Where do you want me to touch you? Here?” He teased his fingertips down your hip. You shook your head.

“No? Here, then?” He leaned his weight on his left hand, using his right to trace idle designs up your torso until his fingertips came to rest just under your breast. Your breath hitched.

“Hmm, no, I don’t think so. I think you want something else.” Frankie slipped his hand back down your chest until his fingertips brushed over your core through your clothes. He turned his hand and cupped you gently. With his lips pressed to your ear, he whispered, “here?”

You gasped and nodded. “Yes, Frankie, yes—”

“Shhh,” he pressed kisses to your cheek and the corner of your lips. He gripped you firmly with his hand and you squirmed. “I told you, baby. I want to give you everything.”

You closed your eyes against the feelings he was drawing out of you, overwhelmed at his words. 

He kissed you again, quickly, but pressed his forehead to yours right after, meeting your eyes. 

“Can I put my mouth on you, bebita?” His voice was deep and warm and it melted down your spine.

Your hands flew up to grasp at his shirt. “Frankie, you–”

“I love it,” he murmured, looking right into your eyes. “I’ve been thinking about it. Will you let me?”

You started to smile. “Let you? Frankie, please.” 

He grinned and started tugging at your clothes gently. “C’mon, bebita. Quiero verte.” (I want to see you)

You soon found yourself leaning back against the wall of your hallway, completely bare from the waist down. Frankie dropped to his knees before you, mouth open, eyes wide.

“Fuck,” he whispered, crawling forward. “You are so fucking beautiful.” You felt the heat rise in your cheeks at his words and resisted the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. 

Frankie settled between your knees and smiled up at you. He winked. “Open up, bebita.” He lifted your left leg over his shoulder and you steadied yourself against the wall. “I won’t let you fall.” Frankie moved closer until he was framing you in place with his shoulders. He sucked in a sharp breath. You bit your lip.

“Qué cosita más linda,” (what a pretty little thing) he murmured, leaning forwards. He placed his left forearm over your hips like a bar and pressed a gentle kiss right above your clit. You sighed and slid your hands into his hair.

“That’s right, bebita.” His lips moved against you when he spoke and you shivered. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

You felt his fingers brush along your slit and then press you open. HIs tongue followed right behind as he teased you, licking from your entrance to your clit. You felt boneless, suddenly worried your leg wouldn’t hold you up. But he was pressing you firmly into the wall with his shoulders and his arm. You could see his muscles working in his shoulders and back and it made your head swim.

He flattened his tongue and licked again and you squirmed. He teased the tip of his tongue around your clit and your hips thrust forward before you could stop them. 

“Hey,” Frankie said your name and you blinked and looked down at him. You could see his eyes and the bridge of his nose and you felt your heart rate pick up at the sight of him between your knees like this. “That’s good, baby. Ride my face.”

“Frankie–” you started, breathless.

He moved his arm higher so that your hips could move more easily and leaned forward to slip his tongue through your folds again. You thrust your hips forward and he made an encouraging noise. 

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back against the wall. Frankie teased around your entrance with his fingertips as his tongue worked a slow rhythm on your clit, and on your next thrust forward his finger slipped inside. You gasped and you felt him smile against you. You clutched at his hair, suddenly much overwhelmed.

“Yes, Frankie–” you moaned, and he pressed a second finger inside, twisting both in a way that made you chase them with your hips when he pulled them back. His tongue was moving mercilessly over your clit and you felt it, starting to build at the base of your spine. With every thrust of your hips and curl of his fingers and slide of his tongue he was working you closer and closer, relentlessly driving you upwards towards your peak. You couldn’t catch your breath, you could only do as he asked and clutch at his hair as you ground your hips forward to ride his face.

You chased the feeling climbing up your spine and he urged you on with his fingers and his mouth. On your next thrust, Frankie closed his lips around your clit and sucked, gently, as his fingers thrust forward again, and you were there. 

You cried out as you curled over him, pressing his head into you with your grip in his hair, holding him there as you fell over the edge. His left arm curled around your back and urged you forward, holding you to him as he opened his mouth wide against your pussy. You quivered around his fingers, locked together as he worked you through it with his tongue.

“Fuck,” you choked out as you felt your leg start to give. Frankie caught you by the waist, slipping your leg off of his shoulder and easing you to the floor in front of him. Your eyes met, on the same level again, and your eyebrows raised as you took him in. His face was red and wet and his lips were puffy. His expression was both delighted and wrecked. He was grinning. 

“You taste so fucking good, baby.” You gasped as he leaned in and pressed his wet mouth to your neck. He left a trail of moisture behind as he kissed a path up behind your ear. “Better than I ever imagined. I could spend all night between your legs and never get tired.”

You laughed, slipping your arms around his neck as he leaned over you. “Never?” you teased, and he nodded.

“Can I do that again?” He pulled back and looked down at your pussy and your legs twitched. 

Again? You shook your head. “You can do that anytime, Frankie. But right now I want your cock inside me.” 

His eyes darted back to meet yours and his grin turned into a smirk. “Oh yeah?” He leaned in to kiss you and you smiled. 

“Yeah, Frankie. Take me to bed.” 

He stood and put out his hands to guide you to your feet. “Show me the way, querida.”

He followed closely behind you as you walked to your bedroom, spinning you around the moment you crossed the threshold. He pulled you into another kiss as he walked you carefully backwards towards your bed.

You ran your hands down his sides and realized he was still wearing all of his clothes. “Take these off, Frankie,” you murmured as you undid the button on his pants. He unbuttoned his shirt as you slid his pants down over his hips, and soon he was standing in front of you completely bare. Your eyes widened as you took him in. He was all golden skin and soft muscles – the kind where you knew he was strong without so much definition, with a soft midsection that you wanted to rest your head against like a pillow. You stepped forward and pressed your body against his and found he felt as soft and warm as he looked.

As your naked body came into contact with his, his breath caught and you felt it. “Fuck, hermosa,” he murmured as his hands slid over your back. “You feel so fucking amazing.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed kissed down the line of his collarbone. “So do you, Frankie.” 

As he pulled you in, you felt his cock standing proudly against his stomach. It was hard between your bodies and you squirmed, tilting your hips forward in a vain attempt to feel it against you.

He pressed his smile to your hairline. “‘S that what you want, bebita?”

You nodded, and he walked you back two steps towards the bed without releasing you from his embrace. His cock shifted between you and you sighed. 

“Lie down,” he murmured, guiding you onto the bed. You scooted back and he followed, crawling over you until he was perched above you on his hands and knees. “You look good under me, baby.” 

“You look good over me, Frankie.” You smiled and reached up to tug him down for a kiss. 

He lowered his body to yours slowly and you gasped as you felt his cock come to rest against your hip. You moved your hips, but he continued forward and to the side, coming to rest against you on the bed. “Not yet, bebita. Need to get you ready first.” You frowned and he smiled at you. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

He trailed his fingertips down your chest and stomach until he was teasing at your slit again.

“I’m ready, Frankie,” you insisted, reaching down to grip his cock in one hand. He was big. “You just fingered me by my front door, remember?” You raised your eyebrows at him and pumped his cock in your hand. His hips stuttered forward and you grinned.

He sighed and shook his head at you. “Let me just make sure.” He leaned down to kiss you as his fingers slipped inside you again, two this time, and you opened your legs to give him more room.

“Hmm,” he hummed as he twisted his fingers inside of you. “You were right, bebita. Ya estás mojada.” (you’re already wet) He kissed you as he slipped another finger inside and you arched your back at the sensation. 

“Frankie–” you started, but he interrupted you with another kiss. You could feel how wet you were around his fingers and you wanted more.

“¿Estás lista, bebita?” (are you ready, baby?)

You nodded and reached towards your nightstand and the condoms you knew were inside the drawer. You tried not to let out the whine you could feel at the back of your throat when he pulled his fingers from you gently. He reached over you and grabbed a condom, making quick work of slipping it on.

“C’mere,” he murmured, lifting your leg until it was wrapped around his waist. He bent your other knee and extended it to the side on the bed. You realized you were completely open to him, pussy on display. “Just like that. Fuck, you look gorgeous like this.”

You felt your cheeks heat and looked down to see what he was looking at. Your pussy was open, spread wide, and glistening with your arousal. His cock was mere inches away as he held his hips above yours. You swallowed hard.

“Hey, look at me.”

You looked up at his face and found him smiling softly at you. He tilted his hips forward and you felt the head of his cock nudge against your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath.

He nodded. “That feels so fucking good, baby.” You blinked, trying not to close your eyes. You wanted to see everything.

He shifted his hips until the head of his cock notched against your entrance, and you both gasped. “Ay, mira,” (look) he demanded, and you looked down to watch as the head of his cock pressed inside of you. Your eyes fluttered closed, you couldn’t help it, and you moaned.

“That’s right.” He pressed inside and you felt every inch of his cock as you stretched around him. “You’re taking me so fucking well. You feel so amazing.” He bottomed out and groaned. “Fuck.”

You realized you’d tangled your fingers in his hair, and you tried to tug him down into a kiss. He resisted long enough to pull back out, and the glide of him inside you was devastating.

On the next thrust, he leaned down to capture your mouth with his.

He kissed you as he established a slow, overwhelming rhythm that stole your breath away. You couldn’t feel anything but Frankie, inside you and all around you. Your head spun as you tried to keep up with the movements of his hips and the slide of his mouth against yours.

After a few moments he twisted, reaching around to tuck your leg tighter around his waist. When he did his cock slid in at a new angle that was just right and you gasped.

“¿Así?” (like that?) he breathed. “Right there?”

You nodded, and held him tight against you. “Yes, Frankie,” you sighed. He thrust forward again and your next breath felt like a sob. You could feel it building inside you again, pooling at the base of your spine and tingling down your arms and legs.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmured into your ear. “Let me see you come again. So fucking beautiful when you come.” He pressed a kiss to your neck and you held his head there with your grip in his hair. He reached down to press his thumb to your clit and you gasped. “Dámelo.” (give it to me)

On his next thrust, you did. You felt your pussy tighten around him as you sobbed out his name. You felt like the bed was spinning away beneath you while you were struck, unable to do anything but arch your back and scream Frankie’s name.

He suddenly picked up the pace, and you tugged on his hair to lift his head. You wanted to see his face when he came.

It was beautiful.

His eyes locked on yours as his mouth hung open, and you watched as his orgasm took him. After only a moment he slumped forward, slightly crushing you, and started pressing kisses anywhere he could reach. You giggled at the brush of his mustache against your skin..

“Fuck, hermosa,” he murmured against your skin. “Only our first time, and it was that fucking amazing?” He shook his head and glanced up at you, eyes playful. “Don’t know how we’ll survive getting any better at this.”

You laughed and kissed the corner of his smirk. He turned his head to kiss you back, gently, and you sighed into it.

“Was it as good as you hoped?” You couldn’t help but feel nervous. It had been so long since you’d had this kind of intimacy with someone, and the last one had ended so badly. But Frankie had been carefully taking care of all of your worries and insecurities one-by-one since you’d met, and this time was no different.

“Good?!” Frankie sounded incredulous as he cupped your cheek in his hand. “Baby, it was better. Better than I could have imagined.” He kissed you again, and you squirmed when you felt his soft cock shift, still inside you.

You smiled. “Alright, Frankie, let’s get cleaned up.” He nodded and pulled carefully out of you before heading to the bathroom. He looked back over his shoulder at you and you took a moment to admire his ass and the curve of his spine. “Can I stay? I don’t want to wear out my welcome, but–”

“Of course.” You cut him off. “I want you here.” He grinned and ducked his head.

After a few moments of cleaning up, you found yourself back in bed with Frankie. He had on only his briefs, and you tugged on an old, oversized t-shirt and nothing else. Frankie crowded up behind you in the bed.

“Thank you for going out with me tonight, baby.” He murmured into your neck as he wrapped his arm around your waist, spooning you.

You smiled. “Want to go out again tomorrow?”

You felt him grin against your neck. “Yes, how about tomorrow morning for brunch and then dinner and then, oh, every day this week. As a start.” 

You laughed as he tugged you closer. “Ok, Frankie.” 

He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. “I mean it, baby. This is just the start.”

As you closed your eyes, half asleep, you thought to yourself that you’d never bother paying attention to them again. 

Not when you had Frankie all to yourself.

...

a/n: let me know what you think? 🧡

tag list and some Frankie fans who I think might be interested: @jeewrites @islacharlotte @iknowisoundcrazy @beardedjoel @undercoverpena @goodwithcheese

[bitchesuntitled]

Between Us

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Summary: You and Frankie are dating but keeping it a secret from your daughters.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI! Go on, get! Kissing, fluff, secret relationship, time skipping, smut, oral(f and m receiving), unprotected PinV(don’t do this, make smart choices), cream pie, anything I left out let me know!

A/N: HAPPY FRANKIE FRIDAY!!! This is part 2 of Paint With Me but can be read as a stand alone! Thank you @noxturnalpascal and @beefrobeefcal for giving this a look over for me ❤️ Thank you @jay-zzle for giving this a read as well and the moodboard 😍

Masterlist||AO3 Link||Parents to Lovers

Divider by @saradika-graphics

“Fuck, right there,” you groan into Frankie’s pillow, gripping the wrist that’s holding him above you. His other arm wrapped around your shoulder, grabbing your breast while he pulls you back against his cock again, your ass meeting his hips in a steady rhythm.

“Oh fuck,” he quietly grunts into the side of your neck, feeling your walls sucking him in, “Feel so fucking good baby.”

It’s been four months since you and Frankie had that conversation in the painting class you attended with your daughters. Four months of sneaking around so that the girls don’t catch on to their parents dating each other. In front of the girls, you and Frankie are just good friends but behind closed doors, it’s a completely different story.

“Frankie,” you whimper, trying to stifle your moans, you can feel the warmth simmering in your lower belly, so close to tipping over the edge, “I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah, baby?” Frankie whispers into your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point, causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin, open-mouthed kisses placed along your shoulders as he feels your walls beginning to flutter around him. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.”

Your grip around his wrist tightens as his hand grabs your jaw to tilt your head to the side. He captures your mouth in a kiss, your tongues massaging each other. His thrusts start to get quicker and you can tell he’s getting close too.

“Fuck,” Frankie whimpers into the crook of your neck, “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

“Daddy?” You hear a wobbly voice say on the other side of the door and you both freeze. “Daddy, I had a nightmare.”

“Shit,” Frankie huffs into your neck, “Okay, be right there baby!” He hollers at the door.

You both hear the door handle turning and the door creaking open.

“Missy!” Frankie panics, “Don’t. I’ll be right there. Just give me a second.”

“Why?” Missy asks, trying to peek through the crack in the door. Frankie pulls the covers up onto his shoulders higher, blocking the door's view of you under him.

“I’m naked, Missy. That’s why!”

“Ew!” Missy shouts, running back to her room.

“Dad duty,” Frankie grumbles, pulling out and searching for his boxers, “I’ll be right back.”

—

“Nora!” You shout from the front door, trying to get your shoes on, “Come on! We’re gonna be late!”

“I need socks!” She hollers.

“There’s a clean basket of clothes in the laundry room,” you shout back.

“Mom,” Nora says, approaching the living room, “Why is there boy underwear in the laundry?” She asks, holding up a pair of Frankie’s boxers from the last time he stayed the night. Shit.

“Uhmm…” you start, trying to think of a quick excuse, “My friend had an accident and asked for my help.”

“What kind of accident?” Nora asked, scrunching up her nose.

“Just an accident, Nora,” you huff, getting your jacket on, “Now get your shoes and jacket on so we can go!”

Nora dropped the subject, thankfully, putting her shoes on and both of you were out the door. On the drive to Paint with Me you kept looking in the rearview mirror, you could see the wheels turning in your daughter's head about what had happened back at the house but still, she kept quiet.

“Hey!” Frankie greeted you with a warm smile, as you walked in the door to Miss Janice’s weekly art class. “Missy’s at our usual table,” Frankie said to Nora, pointing in Missy’s direction.

“Here!” Nora said, wrestling off her jacket, chucking it at you, and running to the table where Missy was. The girls are beaming with smiles at each other, hugging as if they hadn’t just seen each other a day ago when you all met up at the park for them to play.

“We might have a problem,” you say low enough for only Frankie to hear, hanging Nora’s jacket up on a hook and sliding your own off. He cocked his head to the side with a confused look, “Nora found your boxers in our laundry,” you whisper, hanging your jacket with hers.

“Oh,” Frankie says, eyebrows shooting up his forehead. “Uhm, how- how did that go?”

“Told her that my friend had an accident and he asked me for help.”

“Accident, huh?” Frankie grinned quietly adding, “We’ve been together for six months now, you know I’m potty trained.”

You both laugh, as you make your way to the table to sit with Nora and Missy. The girls are whispering to each other as you both sit down.

“What are you two gossiping about, huh?” Frankie asks, giving Missy’s side a small squeeze. Missy lets out a giggle.

“We think she has a boyfriend!” Nora says, pointing at you.

“What? Me?!” You ask, pointing to yourself.

“Yeah,” Nora says, “Why else would you have boy underwear in the laundry?”

“Is he cute? Is he nice? Wait, Is he rich?” Missy asks quickly. You can’t help but laugh shaking your head.

“Missy,” Frankie laughs, “Leave her alone.”

“What?” Missy asks, shrugging her shoulders, “It’s just a couple of questions.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you say, “No boyfriend for me.”

Frankie places his hand over his mouth covering that knowing smirk.

–

“I can’t wait til they get here!” Nora says, vibrating with excitement staring out the front window.

Frankie and Missy should be arriving any minute with the pizzas. Nora wanted to have a sleepover, so you figured why not have Missy over and invite Frankie to join for pizza and some movies for a little bit. He offered to pick the pizzas up on his way over.

“They’re here!” Nora shrieks, running to the front door and swinging it open causing it to smack against the wall.

“Damn it, Nora,” you grumble, watching her run to Frankie’s truck and opening the door for Missy to jump out. The girls are excitedly jabbering in the driveway while Frankie is trying to hold onto the pizzas and ushering them inside.

“Mom said we can camp in the living room tonight and fall asleep watching movies!” Nora says excitedly, “I bet you I’ll stay awake longer than you!”

“Whatever,” Missy says, “I’ll be the one up the longest!”

You and Frankie share a look both knowing that neither one will be up past 10. Frankie goes to the kitchen and sets the pizzas on the counter.

“Get the good stuff?” You hum, rubbing your hand across his lower back.

“Pepperoni and black olives?” He asks, opening the box and moving to show you, “Why yes, yes I did.”

“Gross!” The girls say in unison.

“No worries,” Frankie said, “I got a plain pepperoni and plain cheese for you two to destroy!”

“Yay!” They both yelled from the living room. You got plates down from the cupboard, getting slices of pizza set on each one.

“You guys get a movie picked out?” You ask, grabbing the plates meant for you and Frankie, while he holds the two for the girls.

“Uhmm…” Nora hesitates, looking at you while standing in the middle of the living room arranging blankets. “We got distracted by making our floor mattress.”

“Well,” Frankie says, observing the mess of blankets while setting the plates on the coffee table, “I’ll work on this and you guys pick out a movie.”

Frankie made their pallets on the floor, while the girls rummaged the shelf picking out movies to watch. Each picked out 5, playing rock paper scissors to see who got the first pick.

“Yes!” Nora shouted, raising her arms in victory, “Monsters vs. Aliens first!” 

You pop the DVD in while the girls get comfy on the makeshift beds Frankie made for them, both of them diving into their pizza slices. You plop on the other end of the couch, away from Frankie. He gives you a puzzled look as you bite into your pizza and nod your head towards the girls.

“Ahh,” he sighs out, “Gotcha.”

As the night goes on, you notice both girls yawning more frequently and Frankie inching across the couch to get closer to you. By the end of the third movie, both girls are passed out and Frankie’s arm is behind you on the back of the couch.

“Looks like they’re both asleep,” Frankie whispers in your ear. You turn to look at him with a small smile.

“Appears so,” you say, slowly standing up and quietly making your way to their pallet on the floor. You look at both girls, hearing their soft snores as you pull their blankets up to their shoulders.

Frankie stands, smiling, watching you care for his daughter. It’s been nine months of this sneaking around, meeting up when Nora’s at her dad’s and he can find a sitter, or you coming over while Missy’s asleep, making random play dates just so you have an excuse to see each other. I love yous have been shared, talks about one day all living under one roof together have happened, Frankie’s getting tired of keeping it a secret and hopes you are too. You follow him out of the living room, satisfied the girls are comfortable.

“Hey,” he whispers, grabbing your hips and pulling you against him. You can feel his half-hard member through the denim of his jeans against your thigh.

“Hey,” you whisper back, a smile gracing your lips, “Ya know, you don’t have to leave right away.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you reply, pulling away and grabbing his hand, coaxing him to your bedroom. Crossing the threshold of your room, you close the door behind you, locking it as you lightly push Frankie towards your bed, while he kicks his shoes off. The back of his legs hit against the mattress, pushing against his broad chest, he sits down, hands traveling to the nape of his neck playing with the soft strands there.

“Missed you,” you breathe against his mouth, kissing the corner of his lips, trailing your lips along the expanse of his throat. Frankie lets out a soft groan when you gently bite down, running your fingers up his scalp, giggling when you knock his hat off. His hands come to your sides, rubbing his palms against your soft skin while peeling off your shirt. He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you into a bruising kiss, licking into your mouth with fervor, arousal pooling in your panties.

“Missed you too,” he says, forehead pressed against yours. You start to push his shirt up, pulling it off the rest of the way, chucking it to the floor next to yours. Your fingers travel the expanse of his chest and he lets out a quiet hiss when you put more pressure on his nipples, fingers making their way over his soft belly to the trail of hair peeking out from his jeans. You’ve done this dance plenty of times; you remove his belt and undo his jeans like a pro, Frankie lifts his hips so you can slide his jeans and boxers off. His shaft slaps against his stomach while you sink to your knees, your head resting against his thigh, admiring his beautiful cock. You wrap your hand around him - your fingers unable to touch together - and give him an experimental tug, watching as a bead of pre-come escapes the flushed tip.

“Frankie,” you sigh, “You’re perfect.”

Frankie smirks, running his fingers through your hair. Your mouth engulfs his tip, tongue swirling around it as he lets out a moan.

“Fuck,” Frankie hisses, as you take more of his length into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, looking up at him. Those deep brown irises are blown black with lust as he watches you bob your head along his length, twisting your hand around the base of his cock in tandem. “Stop.”

Your head lifts off of him with a soft pop, he grins, motioning for you to stand, grabbing your ass, and pulling you towards him.

“Don’t wanna come down your throat baby,” he says, kissing along your collarbone, traveling to the tops of your breasts. He reaches behind you to undo your bra, letting the straps fall from your shoulders, and your bra slides onto the floor.

“Mmmm,” he hums, massaging your tits, pulling a nipple into his mouth and sucking sharply. You feel his wiry whiskers scrape along your skin and you let out a breathy whine.

“Frankie,” you whisper, your fingers running through his chocolate curls. He trails his lips down your rib cage, leaving goosebumps across your skin. He pushes your leggings and underwear down, fingers coming up to feel the arousal between your folds.

“So wet, hermosa,” Frankie purrs, grabbing your knee and bringing it against his thigh, shifting your body so you’re lying beneath him further up in bed. His cock rubbing against your folds as he sucks the skin of your neck into his mouth. “Wanna taste you, baby.”

You moan as Frankie makes his descent to your core, wide palms against your thighs pushing you open a little more for him, placing your legs on either side of his broad shoulders. He kisses and nips at your inner thighs, parting your lips to look at your glistening sex, and lets out a hum of approval before dipping down, flicking his tongue against your clit. You let out a shaky breath as he begins lapping at your folds like a man who hasn’t seen a meal in days, sucking your bundle of nerves into his mouth and swirling his tongue.

“F-fingers,” you manage to stutter out. Frankie begins tracing the tip of his finger against your entrance before slowly pushing in, massaging your inner walls, “Mm- more,” you whine and in response he hums, sinking a second digit along with the first.

“Oh god, Frankie,” you moan, raking your fingers through his hair, “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

Frankie lets out a moan as you tug on his hair, rocking your hips against his face, feeling his knuckles massaging that sweet spot. Your legs begin to shake, skin heating, walls contracting, feeling your climax approaching.

“Frankie,” you whine, dissolving into pleasure, your orgasm overtaking you.

“So fucking good,” Frankie grins, your release covering his mustache and chin. You bring his face to yours, kissing him with a carnal desire, tasting yourself on his tongue. “Messy too,” he laughs, as you wrap your legs around him.

“Fuck me,” you whine, “Frankie, please. I need you to fu-“

He pushes into you in one quick thrust, splitting you open, and you let out a loud moan. Frankie quickly covers your mouth, fearful the girls will wake up.

“Gotta be quiet, cariño,” Frankie hums with a grin etched on his face, slowly pulling out, groaning when he looks down at his cock covered in your juices. “Fuck.”

You whimper against his hand as he pushes back into your warmth, setting a languid pace. Nails digging into the muscles of his back, hearing the squelch of your pussy as he rocks into you.

“Fuck, baby,” Frankie grunts, smacking his hands against the mattress by your head, snapping his hips into you at a desperate pace. Your nails bite into his skin harder, crescent moons to be left behind as a reminder of you. “God damn it, I fucking love you.”

“I love you too,” you pant into his mouth, feeling that tingle at the bottom of your spine starting to flourish. He devours your mouth, swallowing your moans as you reach your peak once again, white-hot electricity flowing through every limb of your body. Frankie’s hips stutter as his warm release paints your walls, your name escaping his lips as he comes.

Frankie slumps against you, face in the crook of your neck attempting to catch his breath as your fingers trail along his back, tracing small patterns into his skin. He pops his head up, looking at you, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face, kissing your forehead, cheeks, chin, and lips. He moves off of you and lays at your side with a sigh, pulling you into him.

“You should probably leave,” you pout sleepily, “I don’t,” yawn, “-don’t want the girls finding you here in the morning.”

“Just a few more minutes like this,” Frankie hums, pulling you against him tighter. 

Sleep overtakes both of you before you know it.

You wake to the sounds of Nora and Missy playing in the living room. Your eyes snap open. Shit, you fell asleep. Frankie fell asleep, here. At your house, with the girls just down the hall.

“Frankie,” you hiss shoving against him, “You fell asleep here!”

Frankie wakes startled, looking around your room trying to put the pieces together in his sleep-addled brain.

“Fuck,” he groans, rubbing his eyes as you move getting dressed, “What do we do?”

“Uhh…” you say, looking around trying to think of the best possible option. Window. The fucking window. “Window.”

“Window?” Frankie asks with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Window. Climb out, pretend you just got here to pick Missy up.”

“What am I fucking sixteen?” Frankie laughs, standing up to stretch his back.

“Frankie,” you plead, “I don’t know what else to do here. This is not how they should find out.”

“Window it is,” Frankie says, getting himself dressed while you work on quietly opening the window. Frankie approaches you from behind, wrapping his arms around you.

“Even though I wasn’t supposed to stay, I’m glad we had our own slumber party,” he whispers against your temple.

“Me too,” you grin, matching the smile on his face when you turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck, planting a firm kiss against his lips. “Now shoo before we get caught.”

Frankie climbs through the window, landing softly on the ground.

“I wanna tell the girls,” Frankie says abruptly, looking up at you, hope dancing around within those Hershey orbs.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Frankie sighs out your name, “I love you and I wanna tell them. I think it’s time.”

“Okay,” you say softly, leaning your head out the window to give him one more kiss before you return to pretending he didn’t stay here the whole night, “I love you too.”

—

It’s been four weeks since Frankie snuck out of your room like a teenager trying not to get caught by your parents. You both had a long discussion about finally telling the girls about you two being together, what could change, how they’d react to the news, and every possibility you could think of. Frankie seemed confident that they would take the news just fine. Missy liked you, Nora liked him, and they were best friends. Just means they get to see each other even more, Frankie had said with a laugh.

You pulled up to the local Cherry Berry, one of the girls’ favorite places. No holds bar on toppings, Frankie told them both to go wild. You find a somewhat secluded table for this discussion, in case the worst happens. The girls come over with their massive piles of ice cream and toppings sitting next to each other like always. Frankie takes the seat beside you, digging into his ice cream as soon as he sits down. The girls begin chattering away about stuff that’s been happening at school, their teachers, wondering what the next thing they’ll paint in class is when Frankie clears his throat.

“So,” he begins, twiddling his spoon, “We wanted to talk to you guys about something.”

The girls look between the two of you, waiting for one of you to say something.

“We’ve been dating,” you explain looking at each of them, “Each other,” you add, motioning between yourself and Frankie.

“Yeah,” Frankie adds, “We just wanted to be honest with you and let you know. We don’t want to keep it a secret anymore.”

Nora and Missy look at each other and then back at you and Frankie. Nora starts to giggle and Missy soon joins her. Both of them are laughing like hyenas. You and Frankie share a look before glancing towards the girls again.

“We know,” Nora says once her giggles die down. Missy nodded her head at Nora’s words.

“What?” You and Frankie ask in unison, flabbergasted they would have caught on. You’ve both been so careful with how you are around each other.

“Yep,” Nora nods, “Remember the sleepover where Frankie came to pick Missy up and didn’t have his hat?”

You nod, processing the words your daughter is saying.

“I found his hat,” she says, holding in her laughter, “Under your bed.”

“Oh,” you say, stunned, looking towards Frankie who shrugs his shoulders.

“And I’ve seen that shirt in my dad’s room,” Missy says pointing at your chest, “And his room smells a lot better now too, kinda like vanilla, like you!” she exclaims.

You stifle your laugh, shaking your head.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Frankie mutters, “Got ourselves Starsky and Hutch over here.” 

[romanarose]

Cola

Chubby!Francisco Morales x fem!reader

Summary: Frankie loves how you taste so sweet…. “My pussy tastes like Pepsi Cola”

Content and warnings: Pussy eating like a mad man, ass eating, madly in love, desperately horny, feral Frankie, object insertion, fucked with a foreign object, don’t do this at home, premature ejaculation 💕

Immersivity: reader is AFAB and wears dresses, uses she/her

A/n: inspired by all them pics of Pedro in the Coca Cola shirt… yummy. Finals are DONE and it’s time for my return after a month of no fics!

Special thanks to @hornystan for proofreading and @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for this amazing header! Thank you for making my return so special

Support writers, reblog and comment!

*************

Surely, this was what heaven was like.

Sprawling green meadows and rolling hills, your handsome husband flying you out on a helicopter to a private property. A wicker basket full of a picnic he packed himself had been tossed aside in favor of you humping Frankie’s leg as you both laid on the quilted blanket.

“Baby,” Frankie chuckles, eyes closed tight and nose scrunched up a little as you peppered his scruffy beard with kisses. Sunshine warmed your back in your red sundress, Frankie’s large hands pushing it up and over the swell of your ass cheeks. “We haven't even had lunch yet.”

“Don’t care, need you.” You mutter between kisses, desperately rutting against your dear lover like a bitch in heat.

“But the ice will melt!”

“Don’t. Care.” You kiss his sweet, pudgy face covered in salt and pepper facial hair. “Need. You.”

Frankie laughs again, but his strong arms lift you off his full tummy. “Baby, it’s hot out,” he smiles and sits up, prompting you to do the same despite your cute little pout. “C’mon, have a drink.” He reached into the basket where a few cola bottles sat in a tin bucket? full of ice next to some sandwiches and fruit he cut up himself, just for you. Sweet, sweet man. You packed his favorite, homemade red velvet cupcakes. The cream cheese icing was sitting in the iced tin along with the cola, ready to be added to the cupcakes, nice and chilled.

He opens a bottle, placing the lid inside the basket, careful not to litter, but you don’t drink right away. Instead, you watch as his hands flex to open another bottle, tilting his head back to chug it. His profile was immaculate. Your eyes scan down, taking in the curve of his nose, his softened jawline, plush lips wrapped around the tip of the bottle… but quickly move to his throat. He was a marvel, Adam's apple bobbing and a small trickle of cola down his neck…

With a refreshed, “ah!” Frankie places his trash in the basket, folds in his creasing stomach twisting as he turns. When he looked back, his eyes went wide. First, his eyes went to your discarded panties. Then to you. There you sat, legs spread open and bent, holding your coke bottle in one hand and pumping your desperate, needy pussy with the other. “Jesus, baby…” He licks his lips and you lament the leftover sweetness on his skin wicked away before your tongue could taste how the sugar mixed with his sweat.

“Frankie…” You whine, desperate and mewling for his touch, your desire so intense there was no way you could wait for lunch to end. No way in hell. Tears pricked at your eyes from the burn of the sun and the overwhelming need you had for him. It was always like this with Francisco, intense and burning and all-consuming even after all these years. It didn’t matter, you still fucked like there was no one else on the planet. To him, and certainly to you, there wasn’t.

Frankie mumbled a swear under his breath, his own chest heaving and already tight pants growing tighter. He orders you to lay down and like a good girl, you obey but he stops you. Frankie takes off his hat and plops it down on your head. “For your eyes.” With that, he kisses your lips and you get to taste the lingering traces of his drink. Then, he pushes you down.

*

You clutch the cold, undrank coke bottle in one hand, Frankie’s sweaty brown curls in the other, the bill of his hat protects your eyes from the sun. You were two orgasms in, drenched in sweat and probably smelling terrible, but he didn’t care.

“Baby?” Frankie asked, making your eyes flick down to him. His eyes were wide and wet, intense and brown. Fuck, he was handsome.

You’re panting, but answer him. “Yeah?”

“I’m real thirsty…”

Normally, you would assume he’s talking about wanting to drink your cum, lap at your pussy as you squirt all over him, hips bucking against his mustache… but honestly, it was hot and you assumed he wanted a drink.

“Here” You hand him the coke bottle in your hands sweetly, sitting up as you do but Frankie orders you to lie down as he grabs it.

You look at him confused but do as he says. Frankie always took care of you, you trusted him, so you laid back down on the heavy quilt, feeling the grass move under the weight of your head.

Knelt before you, Frankie looked a bit of a mess. His curls were all over the place, brown curls every which way, as sweaty as his beard was wet. It wasn’t even that hot a day, but you were working up an appetite.

“You belong to me, right?” He asks you, eyes roaming over your body up and down in your pretty sundress. He looked like he was about to eat you alive, like it was taking everything in him right now not to pounce on you like a werewolf. Francisco’s hands move up and down your bent legs, a sheen of sweat gliding them down, fingernails lightly digging into the meat of you r thighs as if only a thread of sanity was preventing him from digging his claws in and making you subject to his insatiable hunger.

“Yeah baby.” You whisper, breathy but without hesitation. “Every inch.”

Francisco's eyes were locked into yours, pupils black as night, threatening to swallow the whites of his eyes. “Tilt your hips up for me.”

Confused but obedient, you feel your brows furrow as you reach under yourself and hold your hips up. Your eyes couldn’t leave his, not if you tried, his hands so steady and sure he didn’t even need to look down as he slowly inserted the tip of the opened coke bottle into your tight hole. You gasped, though not so much at the intrusion; his fingers hadn’t stretched you yet, but you were used to taking his whole cock. No, the bottle was cold. Not freezing, not after being out of the ice a few minutes, but cold. Francisco pauses, eyebrows cocked in a question of your comfort.

You didn’t want him to stop. “Keep going.”

With a growl, it takes everything in him not to shove the full bottle straight up your cunt, but he knows better. Instead, he took his time. The first time he inserted the foreign object. Once he knew you were okay, all bets were off. Francisco vigorously pumped you, forcing your eyes to tear away from his as you lost yourself in pleasure, feeling the cool drink pour into your channel.

“Such a needy little pussy… she’s so desperate, isn’t she? She just needs to be stretched and filled all the time…”

“Fuck! Frankie! Shit, that feels - ohmyfuckinggod - so good! You feel so good, fuck, I love you so m- shit!” You were approaching a third orgasm, the fizzing of the carbonation a strange sensation in your sensitive insides, and his cock hasn’t even been inside you yet. Frankie couldn’t stop staring at your pussy, licking his lips and palming the erection in his jeans. He had so far been neglected, edging himself in order to bring you, and subsequently him, as much pleasure as possible. Your pleasure was his, your lust was his, your pretty cunt was his to do as he pleased. He could play games with you, shove whatever he wanted into whatever holes and you’d let him… but Frankie didn’t get off on humiliation, he got off on you.

He watched your pussy lips repeatedly swallow the bottle, bits of coke and cum leaking out of you as he began to overwhelm your body. His hand squeezed his dick, throbbing in his pants and he knew he wasn’t going to last. He’d have to recuperate and fuck your face into the grass after lunch. Right now, though… he was thirsty.

Frankie yanked your hands out from under you, pulling the bottle out as you whimper and feel the leftover spill all over your pussy and thighs. That would be annoying later, but that didn’t matter now, not when your loving, adorable husband was dropping to his stomach and latching his lip around your hole. Frankie was drinking coca cola out of your cunt.

He lapped and sucked and licked and drank, the pop fizzling out on your pussy lips as Francisco, whining and crying into your cunt as he came, desperately licked every inch of you. He needed to make this last, he needed to taste every drop, tasting your thighs for the sweet you were so desperate to suck off his lips a moment ago. His tongue was impossible to please, spreading your asscheeks to taste what had trickled down. Only when he seemed to run out of energy, his orgasm satiated, did he slow. You could feel the wetness from his eyes on your lips.

“I just love you so fucking much.” He kissed your swollen, fucked out pussy and closed his eyes, head resting on your thigh as his eyes drooped. He must’ve really tuckered himself out. “So sweet for me.”

*************

Please consider reblogging, if this flops I’ll scream

Inspo comes from Ozzie’s amazing Joel fic, beer bottle insertion

If this does well I’ll write part 2 with reader licking that cream cheese off his dick….

Thank you to everyone who has been supporting me through a difficult month, it has not always been easy between school, and everything that happened, but I got through it and I’m looking forward to something new. I finished up all my assignments and papers even though it was absolute chaos lol and now all I have left is a couple online next semester and then I graduate. 💕💕💕💕

Each and everyone of you so so much, please take care of yourselves!

[reveluvjay]

in honor of it being Pedro's birthday, here are some reaction pics for when someone says some fuck shit to you!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY POOKIE‼️‼️

(Idk where you'd use the one of Oscar and Pedro fighting but that shit is funny asf)