#frankie morales x OC female

[raspberrybesitos]

birthday girl | frankie morales x plus size latina reader

Main masterlist

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~3.5k

Summary: It’s your birthday, and Frankie celebrates his favorite girl.

Warnings: established relationship, unprotected PIV (wrap it up y’all!!!), oral (f receiving), fluff, pet names (princesa, bebita, querida, hermosa, baby, etc), Frankie being in love, slightest hint of insecure reader, reader is female, reader is plus sized, reader is Latina, but no mention of hair type/skin color/height, reader understands Spanish, NO USE OF Y/N, translations available at the end.

A/N: it’s my birthday meaning this is completely 100% self-indulgent lol no other reason behind this. i wrote it with me (a plus size latina) in mind, but i hope you can still find relatability in it! y’all know Frankie is one of my favorite P boys, and i’ve been thinking about him a lot lately. shoutout to @mandoisapunk for hyping me up to post this one ilysm <333 anyway, happy frankie friday!! i hope y’all enjoy!! i’m off to pamper myself, then get plastered at the club 🪩💃 this was written very quickly. not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. 🏃‍♀️

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Daylight peeks through the blinds, bleeding through the curtains. A gloomy morning, typical around this time of year. Stirring in the sheets, you feel around for your boyfriend. Instead, you’re met with cold sheets on his unmade side of the bed.

He must’ve been up a while ago.

You swipe your phone from your nightstand, catching a glimpse at the time while unlocking it.

10am. He’s definitely been up for a while.

Frankie is an early riser, waking with the sun. While you prefer to sleep in as much as you can, being a night owl and borderline insomniac.

Rubbing your eyes, you scroll and respond to the birthday texts you received throughout your sleep. A few missed calls, you make note to call them back later.

Sitting up, you stretch and let out a yawn. The urge to crawl back under the covers grows strong as the chilly air hits your skin. Just as you’re about to get out of bed, you hear those unmistakable footsteps.

The door gently swings open, there stands your Frankie - beaming with a tray in hand.

“Happy birthday, hermosa,” he says through his dopey grin as he walks towards the bed, balancing your breakfast. You let out a soft hum, touched by the sweet gesture.

“Babyyy, you didn’t.”

“But I did. And I don’t want to hear any complaints, it’s your day, let me spoil you.”

“But you always sp-,”

“Ah ah! Let me spoil you, bebita. It’s what you deserve. I even made your favorite,” he says, setting the tray down in front of you. A tiny gasp bubbles over your lips.

“Frankieeee,” you whine, bottom lip jutted out as tears well in your eyes.

It’s a simple meal, nothing extravagant, but not one you make too often with how time consuming it can be. Your favorite childhood breakfast - chorizo con huevo y frijoles and homemade tortillas - one your abuelita would cook on the mornings you went to her house as a little girl.

You’d told him about it one morning when he found you downstairs making tortillas from scratch to go with breakfast. A labor of love from both of you, as you taught him the same way your abuelita had shown you - a way to honor her legacy.

He remembered.

“You remembered,” you whisper, voice wobbly as you’re overwhelmed with the simple, sweet gesture. Glossy eyes meeting his soft gaze.

“Of course, baby. I remember everything you tell me,” he says, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your head.

“How did you make the tortillas?” you ask.

He chuckles, sitting down beside you.

“I told you, I remember everything you tell me,” he says while fishing out a crumpled up index card and placing it in your hands. It’s got all your abuelita’s instructions, measurements, and ingredients scribbled on it in his chicken scratch.

He’d written everything down.

“Wrote it all down after that morning. It took some trial and error, and they’re nowhere near as perfect as yours and your abuelita’s, but…”

“I- Frankie…” you sigh, tears pricking your eyes as you’re nearly rendered speechless. Cupping his face softly in one hand.

“This is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me. Thank you,” you sniff, a stray tear cascading down your cheek as you smile at him through watery eyes.

He swipes his thumb on your cheek, wiping away your tear.

“Of course, baby.”

You capture his lips in a languid, sweet kiss. Sighing into each other as you wrap a hand around his neck, carding your fingers through his hair. Frankie cupping the back of your head, deepening the kiss.

Parting for air, he rests his forehead against yours - toothy grins adorning your faces.

“Come on, princesa. Eat before it gets cold.”

The two of you share breakfast in bed before getting ready for the day.

Frankie spends the rest of the day spoiling you - taking you to a surprise nail appointment he’d booked. He’d headed home unbeknownst to you, setting up something else.

He picked you up, and the two of you landed in Barnes & Noble. Letting you go rampant, Frankie bought every book you wanted. He’d tucked them away safely in his trunk, reminding himself to take them out in the morning. You’d both decided to grab some dinner before heading out to the bars with some friends.

The bars are loud, particularly this karaoke bar. Although he despises karaoke, his love for you trumps his disdain. Seeing you sing your heart out on stage with your friends - the people who always show up for you - makes his heart swell. Your happiness is his.

Frankie nurses a glass of whiskey the entire night, allowing you to have your fun with everyone. He can sense your exhaustion, your telltale yawn is his silent cue that it’s time to call it a night.

Bidding everyone good night, you and Frankie walk hand-in-hand to his truck. Heading home after a day well spent. Giddiness radiating from both of you on the drive home, excited to finally have some privacy.

You two could barely keep your hands off each other the second you stepped out of the truck. Both of you stumble into the house, giggling through the tender kisses. Frankie tosses the truck keys onto the table in the foyer and flicks on the lamp before cupping your face again. Both of you refuse to part for air as he attempts to stealthily guide you into the living room.

Something brushes against your head, making you break away and whip your head around. A soft gasp is punched from your lungs, your eyes glimmering at the sight in front of you.

Balloons hang throughout the living room leading into the kitchen as a bouquet of flowers sits on the coffee table. Frankie grabs your hand, pulling you out of your trance, weaving through the trail of balloons as he leads you into the kitchen. Tears well in your eyes at the gesture. A small cake in your favorite color sits on the table, next to a card and another vase of flowers - tulips specifically, your favorite flowers.

He fishes for a lighter in his pocket, showing you how prepared he was for this moment. Lighting the candles, he pulls you into his embrace, your back flushed against his chest.

“Surprise, princesa,” he whispers. A watery chuckle bubbles from within your chest, sniffling while he softly sings his own rendition of ‘happy birthday’ in your ear as he sways you side to side. The glow from the candles illuminating the blinding smile on your face.

“Make a wish, birthday girl,” he whispers, placing a tender kiss to the shell of your ear.

You close your eyes, wishing for this love, this life with him for eternity. Leaning forward slightly, you blow out the candles before falling back into Frankie’s arms. He gives you a gentle squeeze before turning you around to face him.

Gently kissing you, you yelp in surprise when he swipes frosting on your nose.

“Couldn’t resist, sorry, bebita. Que le muerda,” he says with a wink. Playfully scolding him, you reach behind you to scoop frosting on your fingers and smear it on his cheek.

Frankie smirks, “Oh you think that’s funny?” You nod, snickering as you lick your fingers. He reaches for the cake, gathering more frosting on his fingers. Smearing it all along your lips and chin, you burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Normally, you hate the tradition of taking a bite of the cake - it usually leads to having your whole face smashed into it, makeup ruined. But with Frankie, it’s not done with malice, not done to embarass you. It’s playful, fun - like the life you’ve built with each other.

Before you can retaliate, Frankie swoops in and slots your lips together. The sugar from the frosting combined with the glass of whiskey he had at the bar makes for a full-bodied kiss. Giggling like a pair of school kids, you and Frankie clean each other up with some paper towels.

"You missed a spot, bebita," he says, gesturing to the bottom of your lip.

"Oh!" You swipe your lip. "Did I get it?"

He grins. "Almost. Let me help you, hermosa," he says before crashing his lips onto yours.

Shared laughter resumes as he guides you into the living room, never letting your lips part. He accidentally bumps into the coffee table as he moves onto the couch. He smiles into the kiss as you laugh at his clumsiness. He plops down, grabbing your hips and tugging you onto his lap.

His large, rough hands squeezing your plush thighs before giving your ass a firm squeeze. Eliciting a surprised hum from you, you part from him with heavy eyes and a dopey smile. Frankie mirroring your expression.

“You have a good day today, baby?” He asks softly, timidly awaiting your answer.

You fervently nod. “The best. Thank you so much, baby - for this, for everything.” You say, gesturing to his hard work.

“Of course, bebita. Least I could do,” he rasps against your skin, littering kisses along your neck. A content sigh leaves your lips, basking in the love he showers you in daily.

“Baby?”

He hums in response.

“When did you find the time to even do all this?” You ask, carding your fingers through his hair as you straddle him, his lips still connected to your throat. He lifts his head, locking eyes with you.

“Did it all this afternoon while you got your nails done. I bought all the balloons and blew ‘em up on my lunch break yesterday and just kept ‘em all at work. The flowers, I went right after I dropped you off at your appointment to get them before I went to pick up the balloons and your cake from my fridge at work. Knew I could surprise you one day,” he explains with a wink.

You feel your heart grow 10 sizes bigger, a swarm of butterflies flutter throughout your tummy.

He’d done all this for you.

Tears sting your eyes again, a soft smile on your face - one only reserved for him.

“Frankie,” you whine in protest, your gaze shifting to the side as guilt floods you.

As if he can read your mind, Frankie grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Uh uh. I don’t want to hear it. I wanted to do this for you. It’s your special day. Now I know this day isn’t the easiest for you, but I want to make it easy. I want to make everyday easy, the same way you make loving easy. You deserve the whole world and more. And I’ll work everyday to give it to you. Let me celebrate my favorite day, my perfect girl. Because on this day those years ago, the world got brighter. And 2 years ago, my world did too.”

Overwhelmed by his devotion, you shamelessly let your tears fall. Love seeping from your eyes and onto your cheeks, Frankie draws you in gently. Kissing you with such tenderness, cradling your face as if you were the most delicate diamond in the universe, your cheeks wetting his. He pulls back, swiping those tears, mirroring each other's small smiles.

“I love you, bebita,” he says, his voice hushed and husky.

“I love you too, Frankie. Thank you for today, for all of this, baby. This was the best birthday I’ve ever had, all thanks to you. You always make me feel so loved, and I hope you know just how much I love you. Eres el amor de mi vida,” you choke out.

“Of course, baby. I’d do anything and everything for you, princesa. Loving you is the easiest thing in the world. I do know how much you love me, you show me everyday, bebita. I’ve got you, baby. Always. Eres mi amor, mi luz, mi vida, mi luna y todas mis estrellas. Eres mi todo. Te amo mucho, con todo mi corazón, bebita,” he whispers against your lips.

Melding your lips together, your combined hums ring in the air as you vehemently consume one another.

He shifts his grip to your thighs, tightening his hold on you as he rises to his feet.

“Frankie, stop! I’m too heavy, you’re gonna hurt your back!” You yelp as he carries you up the stairs, the whispers of insecurity creep into your head.

“Hush, bebita. My back is fine. I’ve never thrown it out any of those other times I carried you before, and I’m not about to start now. You’re never too heavy. ‘Sides, how many times have I tossed your sexy ass around in bed? Hm?” He asks as he turns the corner, leading you to your shared room.

He immediately rids your mind of any insecurities as he’s met with your silence. Bashfulness coursing through your veins as you tuck your head into the crook of his neck..

“Exactly. That's what I thought,” he says as he kicks the door open, tossing you onto the bed. You yelp as you bounce in the air, Frankie’s pupils dilate - blown black and wide.

Your head resting on a pillow with dress ridden up your thighs, exposing your panties to him as your breasts nearly spill over the low neckline.

He pulls your shoes off, his following suit as tosses them off to the side. Snaking his hands up your thighs, he grabs the hem of your tights.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” he warns before yanking them down, tearing them in the process. It’s unbelievably feral, how swiftly he ripped the tights in two. You gasp as another wave of arousal pools in between your thighs.

He hovers over you, hands trailing up your tummy and cupping your breasts. He captures your lips in his, patience thrown to the wind as his tongue invades your mouth. Sucking in your bottom lip between his teeth, you moan as he bites down. The slight sting only sending more slick to seep from your weeping cunt.

You eagerly fumble with the hem of his shirt as you moan into his mouth. His chest rumbles with a small chuckle, before parting from your lips. He quickly yanks it over his head and tosses it to the floor, refocusing on your lips.

He snakes his hands down to your waist where your dress is bunched up. Slowly raking it up your body, you lift yourself up so he can pull it off you. Frankie licks his lips. He knew you’d been wearing one of his favorite lacy bras, but it’s such a sight for him every time.

Sloppy kisses are exchanged while he slickly maneuvers to unhook your bra, lifting you slightly and discarding it on the floor. He kisses down your bare breasts, sucking a nipple in his mouth while he fiddles with his belt. Frankie releases your nipple with a lewd pop and shucks off his jeans and briefs, his hard cock throbbing.

Both of you bared naked, on display for each other.

“So fucking beautiful, baby. The most beautiful woman on Earth,” he rasps, nearly to himself.

Heat radiates throughout your body, your heartbeat thrumming in your ears and a fire simmering in your belly as he slides down to position himself in front of your bare sex.

Frankie insatiably licks his lips, feasting his eyes on your glistening folds. As if he’s about to devour the finest meal. He peppers kisses along your soft thighs, making you twitch under his grasp.

Your clit throbs, aching for attention. Whining, your hips buck up into his face as he presses a tender kiss to your mound.

“I got you, bebita,” he whispers against your core. He dives in, tongue licking languid stripes up your folds. Frankie groans at the taste, something he’ll never get enough of.

Flicking your clit combined with the vibrations of his groans draws out a high-pitched moan from you, your head sinking further into the pillow. His tongue prods your entrance, slurping up your slick.

“S-so fucking good, Frankie. A-always so f-fucking good to me,” you keen as the flames in your belly fan into a fully-fledged fire. Panting and whimpering, you squirm beneath his hold as he relentlessly flicks your pearl.

He grips your thighs tighter as he suckles your clit between his lips, humming into you. Stars burst behind your eyes as you're engulfed by your orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum, Frankie! I’m gonna-,”

You're cut off by a never-ending stream of moans, babbling incoherently about how good Frankie is. Tugging on his hair as you fall over the edge.

He lets out an animalistic groan as he laps at your slick, slurping up every last drop. Savoring the tangy sweetness seeping from your aching cunt, his eyes rolling to the back of his head at the taste. He takes great pleasure in getting you off.

A thin sheen of sweat covers your body, glistening in the warm glow of the room. Frankie presses a chaste kiss to your thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze before towering over you.

Your eyes heavy and glossed over with bliss. Whimpering into him as he presses his lips to yours, tasting yourself on his tongue.

“Sweeter than any fucking cake, bebita,” he jokes, getting a giggle out of you. You bring him down to meet your lips again. Humming as you feel his hard length graze against your bare sex.

Precum weeps from his tip, lightly smearing on your mound. A soft moan slips from you as Frankie lines his cock up with your pussy. He swirls the tip around your mound, gathering your slick on his cock as he teasingly prods your entrance.

“Frankieee, please. Need you inside me,” you whine, rutting your hips seeking relief.

“Relax, hermosa. Like I said, I got you.”

He slowly slips inside, your dripping pussy welcoming him in with ease. Your walls flutter around him, adjusting to his size. Moaning in tandem as he slides home, bottoming out. He’s so big, he’s already kissing your cervix.

You clench around him, panting as the sting from the stretch of his cock morphs into pleasure. Frankie lets out a moan, huffing as he tries to keep his composure.

“Don’t do that, baby. Or else it’ll be over before it even started,” he grunts above you.

“Then how about you fuck me, Morales? ‘S my birthday, I want you - need you, baby,” you whine.

“Oh I’m gonna fuck you, baby. Gonna have you fucking stumbling all over the place after this,” he slurs, nearly drunk on just being inside your warm walls.

Without preamble, he swiftly draws his hips back before slamming into you. You unabashedly scream, not caring that your neighbors will probably hear you.

Your noises drive Frankie wild, spurring him on to bring you to your orgasm. His pace picks up, unrelenting as he cants his hips into yours - pushing himself deeper and deeper with each thrust as he hovers above you.

His chest brushes against yours as his thrusts grow sloppy.

“Feel good, bebita? Huh? Feel me here, in your stomach?” He taunts, pressing down on your stomach as he punches your g-spot. The added pressure makes the coil in your belly tighten, burning white hot as he fucks in and out of you.

“Answer me, baby,” he growls against your lips, the angle he’s at hitting that spot just right.

“Y-Yes, Frankie! Feels s-sooo fucking g-good! Gonna feel you for d-days,” you shriek, hiccupping as tears prick the corners of your eyes. Squeezing around him as your second orgasm rapidly approaches.

“That’s right, baby. Your pussy feels so fucking good, so fucking tight. I could live between these fucking thighs. Like you were made for me,” he babbles, moaning as you clench around him.

“Made for you, Frankie. Only you,” you whisper, the air being punched from your lungs with every thrust.

“Cum for me, bebita. Dámelo, wanna see your gorgeous face when you soak my cock. Come on, baby,” he grunts, holding out on his orgasm - set on making you cum first.

His words toss you over the edge. The coil snapping in your belly as you writhe beneath him, riding out your orgasm, gushing all over his cock.

“Fuck yes, bebita. Good girl, good fucking girl,” Frankie grits as he continues to fuck you through your high. His own orgasm not far behind.

“Cum, Frankie, f-fill me up, baby, please!” You beg breathlessly as you come down from your high.

He moans, chasing his high as he ruts into you. Moaning in tandem as he fills you with his load. Both of you sticky and clammy, covered in sweat and cum. He topples over you, caging you in between his broad biceps.

Small lingering kisses trail along your neck as you bask in each other's proximity and warmth. The post-coital bliss sinking in. You wrap your arms around his taut back, running your fingers through his disheveled curls.

“Love you so much, Frankie," you whisper into his ear.

“Love you so much more, princesa."

Translations:

Que le muerda - bite it

Eres el amor de mi vida - you are the love of my life

Eres mi amor, mi luz, mi vida, mi luna y todas mis estrellas. - you are my love, my light, my light, my moon and all my stars. You are my everything

Eres mi todo - you are my everything

Te amo mucho, con todo mi corazón, bebita - I love you so much, with all my heart, baby girl.

Dámelo - give it to me

hehehehe can you tell Frankie is rotting my brain?

this was definitely my most vulnerable piece yet, as it contains aspects authentic to me so i was very nervy to post. like i said, i hope you found some relatability, and enjoyed!

anyway, happy frankie friday!! thank you so much for reading!! 🩷

tag list: @nostalxgic @sweetercalypso @undrthelights @gracieheartspedro @sapphic-gardn @bastardmandennis @party-hearses @tinygarbage @mandoisapunk @pedrostories @harriedandharassed

[pimosworld]

Santa’s a home wrecker

Pairing-Triple Frontier boys x f!reader

Summary- A little kiss leads to a Christmas morning misunderstanding.

CW-18+, Fluff, so much fluff, Kissing Santa, Pregnancy hormones, tf boys being great parents, polyamorous relationship, navigating a mixed family.

WK-1.6K

A/N- Set in the story of us universe but obviously in the future. We jumped way ahead here folks but I hope you love this fluffy snippet into their future lives.

Not beta read

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

It’s a little easier now since they let you sleep on the end, but it’s still a chore to roll out of bed with your heavily pregnant belly in tow. You sit on the edge for a moment trying to soothe yourself as the kicks come in quick succession. 

  You try as quietly as you can to make your way out of the bedroom, stealing a glance at Ben’s large form sprawled across Frankie in the most uncomfortable way. 

  You're wrapped up in your fluffy red robe, an early Christmas gift from the boys that you’ve been living in for the last month or so while you grow out of everything else you own. 

  The house is quiet and warm as you shuffle down the hallway and smells like cinnamon apples from the pies you made for Christmas Day. 

  A peek into the spare bedroom shows you a glimpse into most of your nights when it's Santiago’s turn to put the kids down for bed. 

  He’s snoring in the chair that sits between Camila and little Santiago’s beds. Both children slumbering away as they dream about the most exciting day of the year. 

  Some rustling is coming from the living room and you round the corner to a site that will never cease to make you smile. The boys take turns being Santa every year and they never do anything halfway. Your arms are crossed as you lean against the wall staring at the rich, dark red velvet material bent over in front of the tree. Deliberately placing gifts from the giant red bag in various spots. 

  You let out a low whistle as you make your way towards the bearded man. “Santa has a nice ass.” 

  He chuckles and stands gesturing with his arms for you to come to him. It’s a bit of a struggle now to be held but he still makes you feel all warm and fuzzy as you sway in the living room in front of the lowlights of the tree. You humm as he rubs your belly, somehow the kicking stops as if the baby taking up home inside knows whose hands are caressing you. 

  “How’s mama doing?” He asks as he kisses your neck, the fluff from his beard tickling you slightly. 

  “I’m tired…someone keeps kicking me.” You sigh into his touch as he drops to his knees, his fingers kneading that spot in your back that he knows pains you throughout the day. 

  “Hey little guy.” He speaks so softly in some adorable voice he’s made up. 

  “He’s a big guy, Will…a very big guy.” You know well enough having been told ad nauseum Miller babies are big.

  “Hey big guy…I need you to give your momma a rest so she can enjoy tomorrow okay?” He holds his ear to your belly and nods. When he looks up at you all you can make out is those piercing blue eyes nestled between the red hat and white beard. “He said okay.” 

  A small tear escapes as he kisses your belly and stands again. You can’t even blame it on the hormones. 

  “Go lay down, I’ll bring you some tea when I finish here.” One last kiss to your lips and he’s shooing you away so he can complete his Santa duties and enjoy his peanut butter cookies special request. 

  ****

  Frankie stacks the pancakes high on the plate next to the stove, as he moves on to the eggs and bacon. 

  Ben hasn’t said a word just eyeing the food as you enjoy your morning tea, surprised the kids haven’t graced you with their presence yet. 

  Santi’s creaking bones enter the kitchen before he’s seen as he cracks his back in the hallway. Frankie laughs from the stove as he flips the bacon perfectly somehow never burning it. 

  “Laugh it up hermano.” He leans down and kisses your forehead before heading over to the fresh coffee pot. 

  “I’m not the one that keeps falling asleep in the chair.” 

  You hear the sound of hurried footsteps down the hallway as Camila quickly emerges into the kitchen beaming from ear to ear. She barrels into Frankie hugging him from behind as he reaches around and ruffles her long black curls. “Buenos Días papá.” 

  “Buenos Días mi amor.” 

  Frankie kisses her forehead and she makes her way over to you and Santi to say her good mornings and receive hugs and kisses. 

  She climbs into Ben’s lap forgoing an open seat as she waits for breakfast to finish. The way the two of them could eat you were worried about welcoming another Miller into the household for lack of food resources. 

  “Good Morning daddy.” She wraps her little arms around him and it’s a feeling he’ll never get used to. 

  “Good morning honey.” She stole your nickname early on when she could look so sweet at them and instantly get her way. 

  There was a rule from the beginning that there would be no distinction unless medically necessary between the fathers. They were all fathers and that’s all that mattered. 

  “Sweetie, where's Santiago?” She looks slightly uncomfortable as she leans in and whispers something in Ben’s ear. 

  “He’s not coming?” Ben looks over to you as Santi looks to Frankie now done cooking breakfast. 

  She leans in again whispering something as Ben’s eyes widen. He has to bite his cheek to keep from laughing at the situation that he knows will need to be handled swiftly. 

  “He doesn’t want to open presents from a home wrecker.” 

  You’re grateful you hadn’t taken a sip of your tea or it would’ve been all over your new robe. 

  Frankie flicks off the stove and heads over to the table. “How do you even know that word, young lady?”  

  Ben leans in whispering something in her ear and she relaxes slightly. 

  “Well…ugh.” She’s in the hot seat by way of Santi much like her father often does to other people. You lay your hand on hers and wince slightly cursing this baby for picking the most opportune moments to make himself known. 

  “Camila it’s okay, you can tell me…you’re not in trouble.” 

  “Tia Marí said Tio John kissed a homewrecker and that’s why they’re not together anymore.” It comes out all rushed and flustered and you're trying not to giggle at her panicked confession. 

  Frankie points at Santi while he still looks on confused. “Your sister is off babysitting duty for a while.”

  Santi scrubs his hand down his face. “I'm still not following.” 

  Ben places his hands over her ears so she can’t hear. “Will was Santa last night.” He grits out as she giggles.

Santiago must have woken up and seen you kissing “Santa”.

  “Daddy I can’t hear anything.” He starts tickling her as she squeals in delight. 

  “Good because if you did, you wouldn’t get any presents.” They continue their giggles as you let out a long sigh. 

  “We’re gonna eat breakfast while you two go handle that.” Frankie starts serving up plates as Ben and Camila clap in excitement. 

  ****

  Santiago is face down in the blankets when you enter his room. He was a deep sleeper so it was pretty obvious when he was pretending. His little breaths are coming in shallow like he just ran here and plopped himself down. 

  You have a seat on the edge as Santi sits in the chair beside him. 

  Santi rubs his back hoping to calm him a little before he speaks. “Hey bud, you want to tell me what’s wrong?” 

  Inaudible mumbles come from the pillow and you bite down on your tongue at the mirror image. Payback for all the time Santi made someone chase him for a simple misunderstanding coming back ten fold. 

  “I didn’t hear you mijo, que pasó.” He slowly rolls him over as Santiago rubs his red eyes. 

  “I…don’t want…I don’t want.” He’s sniffling and Santi tries to calm him so he can catch his breath. 

  “Deep breaths bud.” 

  He shakily inhales and wipes his little hands on the blanket. “I don’t want Santa to break up our home.” 

  You could kill Maria for almost ruining Christmas morning, but you know one day you’ll get to tell this hilarious story to your children when they’re all grown up. You let Santiago take the reins even though you did kiss Santa. This was not your mess to clean up. 

  “Santiago, no one is breaking up our home. I love your mama very much.” Santiago crawls over to you as you wrap him up in your arms, kissing his unruly brown locks. 

  “You promise?” Your heart breaks a little as those little puppy dog eyes look up at you. 

  “Yes we promise.” He exhales as he relaxes in your arms and you look up at Santi incredulously. 

  “Santa is my friend…he’s allowed to kiss your mama.” Santiago looks up at his dad with pure shock written all over his face. 

  “WHAT!” He balks at him as you burst into a fit of laughter. 

  “HO, HO,HO…” The boisterous sound echoes down the hallway from the living room. 

  Santiago scrambles off your lap as you fall back with an oomph. Your belly won’t allow anymore movements like that so you succumb to the comfort of his tiny car bed, as his father chases after him. 

  ****

  Camila is standing in front of the tree as Santa hands her the first gift. 

  “Well hello little boy, would you like a gift from Santa?” 

  He runs up to him with his hands on his hips as he pokes him in the surprisingly hard belly. “Next time just drop off the gifts and go.” 

  Will looks up confused by his son's words as Frankie and Benny are losing it in the kitchen. 

  Santi stands there in the same stance. 

  “Don’t worry I’ll explain later.” 

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[joelswritingmistress]

Oh Captain, My Captain: Chapter 10

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Your brother covers for you after spending the night at Joel's place while on vacation. You suspect everyone is on to your lies, though you put it in the back of your mind when you go to meet Joel that evening.

You felt like a new woman when you walked back into your temporary vacation home. A smile lingered on your face as you peppered the stairs that led up into the living room area where your brother sat trying to instruct your sister on how to do something on the Playstation.

"Well, well.." Your younger sister turned briefly in your direction before re-engaging in the game, "Where have you been?"

"None of your business," you said lightheartedly as you slung your purse down over the back of one of the chairs at the small high top table against the wall. As you scampered into the kitchen to retrieve an apple from the fridge your sister continued with her teasing.

"Someone's got some extra pep in her step."

"Maybe I do, so what." You took a bite of the fruit and sat cross legged on the couch opposite the two of them.

"Mom was asking questions," your brother informed you.

"Like what?"

"I held her off a little, but-" He stopped mid-sentence when the door opened and then shut at the bottom of the stairs. You exchanged a glance and a few seconds later your mom and aunt wandered up the stairs, chatting with smiles.

"Hey, Mom." You smiled, "Aunt Jo."

"Well, hello, Ms. Thing," Aunt Jo said with her hands on her hips, "Feeling okay?"

Before you could answer your brother intervened, "She hasn't thrown up since like 11 last night."

Thrown up? Oh! The cover up. Got it.

You put a hand on your forehead, going along as best you could with whatever lie your brother had told your parents. "Yeah. I.. woo.." Why am I such a terrible liar?

"Threw up?" Your mom asked, her eyes widening. "Honey, if I'd have known you were throwing up I would have come over. I just thought you were a little under the weather." Her eyes met your brother's with just mild accusation.

"Oh, I didn't tell him I actually threw up until today," you butted in, trying to cover for him now. "I think it would have grossed him out."

"Yeah I would've jumped ship and stayed at your place," he added, motioning to your mother.

Aunt Jo looked back and forth between the two of you, pointing a finger in each of your directions. "Why do I get the feeling that you two are hiding something?"

You took another bite of the apple and shook your head. "No," was the lone word that left your mouth with the oversized bite in it that you began to chew.

"I'm the intuitive one," Aunt Jo added, "I used to lie for the two of us all the time." She nodded toward your brother with a grin, "I was like you. I was the better liar."

You and your brother looked at one another again and exchanged a laugh.

"And it was usually over boys." Aunt Joe nudged your mother and it made your laugh a little louder.

"Mom, sneaking out to see guys before Dad tied you down?" You asked.

"When are you gonna teach me, Aunt Jo?" Your sister asked.

"Never," your mother added, smiling, "That's ancient history."

"So, who's the guy?" Aunt Jo asked, causing you to falter for just a second. Your mother hung open and you took a bite of your apple. When you didn't answer, she snickered. "I knew it."

"I just grabbed some dinner with an old friend," you lied. "Nothing romantic."

"Who?" Your mother asked.

"Um.. Rafe," you lied, name-dropping one of the people you used to see on vacation every year in the Vineyard. Your parents and his parents had become friendly over the years.

"Oh." Your mother raised her eyebrows. "Oh, okay."

"We have zero chemistry so don't even starting thinking anything happened." You weren't about to disclose your relationship with Joel in this setting in front of everyone. You would talk to your mother privately.. and soon. But not right then.

"Rafe?" Your brother asked, squinting his eyes and scrunching his nose in disbelief.

"Yeah." You bit your apple again and stood up, walking back into the kitchen. "Like I said, it was just to catch up."

The group finally seemed to leave you alone, at least for the time being; though you knew individually they would all have their questions. Your siblings both knew you had spent the night at someone's place. You figured you would start there and tell them the truth so they wouldn't think you had the hots for your old friend - who they were fairly certain you weren't particularly fond of to begin with.

You removed the phone from your pocket and looked down at the screen, smiling when you saw a text message from Joel.

We on for tonight? He asked.

A smile formed on your face and you began typing away.

"You were never a huge fan of Rafe," Aunt Jo interrupted, smirking to herself when she knew she had caught you off-guard in the middle of the message.

"Oh, yeah.. I know. I was just being nice," you lied.

She eyed the phone in your hands and then looked you back in the eye, still grinning. "Okay."

You smiled back and then sent Joel another message before hurrying to your room to get showered and pack a bag. You knew you had to talk to your mom. She had always been in your corner, even if she didn't realize how serious you were about your art. There was never a time she didn't have your best interests in mind; and that was the part that scared you a bit. Would she try to push you away from Joel because you lived so far away? Because of his age? Or because of his income?

A sigh escaped your lips and decided you'd get to it whenever you could get to it.

***

A knock at your door made you jump and you hurried to open it. Both of your siblings stood there looking for answers without asking a single question.

"Okay, fine," you said quietly, noting your mother and aunt had left, "It's not Rafe." You indulged in the cliff notes version of your budding relationship with the boat captain.

Your siblings hadn't given you a hard time, though your brother did express his concern.

"From a guy's perspective," he began, but you quickly silenced him and explained that Joel was forty. He wasn't just toying you around or looking for a summer fling. While he didn't wholly buy it, he put up his hands and let you win.

"Forty?" Your fifteen year old sister shouted. The age difference must have seemed astronomical to her. "That's like.."

"He's thirty-nine," you corrected her, "And that makes him fifteen years old than me."

"The exact amount of time I've been alive!" That one made your brother laugh, but he ultimately was the voice of reason and, currently, your rock of support.

"Look," he said, "You've always been a free spirit." His lips twisted into a smirk when he said, "But, and don't run with this too far, I think it's cool."

"You do?" You asked.

He shrugged. "Yeah. You don't just follow the crowd and.. I think it makes mom and dad respect you."

"What?" His words were more than you had expected, "Really?"

"I said not to run with it."

"So, gut feeling," you couldn't believe you were asking your slightly-younger brother this, "What do you think?"

"I don't know the guy," he said, "But if you think it's right then go for it."

A smile formed on your face. One person's approval was all you needed for a little confidence boost. You hugged your brother, "You're an old soul, yourself, sometimes you know that?"

He scrunched his nose at your sign of affection. "Ehh.. I guess. Next time I need something.."

"I got you." You pointed at him and smiled before checking the time and heading out into the evening to go meet Joel.

Walking out that front door made you feel free. Not that it was stuffy or anything. It just meant that you were on your way to see, what felt like, the man of your dreams. 

You got to the docks early, catching Joel in between shifts as he wandered from the boat back to what looked like an oversized shed for boats that had two giant bays, enclosed a dock up the middle and looked outward into the ocean.A little giggle formed in your throat as you stalked him unsuspectingly. 

Joel took off his hat, wiped his forehead with the back of his arm and replaced it on his head as he entered the pavilion-like structure.

You snuck up behind him and wrapped your arms around his midsection, making him jump and curse at first until he saw it was you.

"Hi," you said with a little laugh, making him chuckle. Joel's eyes smiled right along with him.

"Hi." He pulled you into his arms and the two of you shared a long, closed-mouth kiss.

"I know I'm about fifteen minutes early-" You smiled into his lips when he kissed you harder, sending your back into the wooden wall behind you. "Don't get yourself fired," you whispered.

"I've earned a makeout session in my twenty-something years here," Joel whispered against your lips.

"Well, okay, then," you whispered back, linking your arms around the back of his neck as the two of you kissed heatedly in a nook of the place. You closed your eyes when he slowly raised your arms above your head and pinned your arms against the wall. Your eyes closed and all you could hear was your own heavy breathing.

"Stay over tonight." Joel's lips grazed yours as he spoke.

You would be his willing prisoner if he asked, and so you replied without hesitation. "Okay."

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[penvisions]

the melting point {chapter 14}

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Baker! Reader (ex EMT! Reader)

Summary: The group takes the day off and goofiness ensues on the beach!

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: slight sexual tones, teasing, play fighting, play wrestling, kissing, love confessions (oh yeah, i went there)

A/N: just a little something to get back into the swing of things with this story, these characters mean so much for me but it is one of my less angsty fics and my life has been a little hectic so it was hard to focus on them, but they are back and i hope you like this installment

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist

The restaurant was fancy.

It must’ve taken a lot for Frankie to get a reservation here, you mused as you were led by the hostess to the bar to get a complimentary drink while they cleared a table for you. You were in a black, sleeveless dress and chunky heeled boots. Frankie was in a dark green button down that had faint, black paisleys dotted on the fabric. The lighting was low and soft, creating a nice environment to take in the way he looked across the booth from you. He had forgone hid cap tonight in favor of slicking his hair back in a delicious way.

“I’m so glad I can finally do this, you deserve it.” His smile was a little shy as he looked over the menu in his hands at you. You felt a blush creep up to your cheeks, a nervous giggle sparking into the air. You had no idea why you were nervous, this was Frankie. One of the most easy-going people in your life, one of the most important. But your revelation of feeling so much for the man had been in the back of your mind since it had made itself very apparent. Your nerves were alight with the realization, turning you into a bashful mess of a person.

The drinks had just been delivered to the table and your appetizer order was placed when a server was approaching you with a cool, professional air.

“Excuse me, but there is someone requesting to stop by your table.”

You and Frankie shared a puzzled look, unsure of who would know where either of you were let alone ask to approach. He was stealthy as his eyes roamed the visible part of the restaurant but when he didn’t notice anything out of place, he brought them back to you. Your expression was slightly controlled though there was a furrow to your brow that he could see behind the frames of your glasses.

“Request accepted, I’m curious.” You smiled politely but not unkindly at the server who had begun to shift their weight from foot to foot, the situation obviously being something they had yet to encounter.

It was a few minutes after they left when the food critic from the other night approached the table with a martini in her hand.

“Darling! I’m so happy to have run into you out in the wild,” You stood as soon as you recognized her, wanting to properly greet her. The drink in her hand was lifted away from her middle as you both leaned in and embraced loosely. She leaned in and did the whole air kiss to both sides of your face and you mimicked her friendly greeting with a smile. You were glad to see her, truly.

“I’m so glad you came out the other night, it meant so much to me!”

“Of course, I never pass up a chance at something new and exciting in this city.” She took a sip from her drink and her eyes wafted over the table, making sure you had your own. “It was such a good time, but you simply have to introduce me to this handsome gentleman. You two were the focus of attention once things had concluded.”

“Oh! This is Fransisco Morales, he’s-“

“Her boyfriend,” He had stood, sliding himself out of the booth at the attention. He took her hand but was pulled forward in a loose wrapping of arms around his shoulders and the same movement of air kisses she had done with you. He didn’t seem phased by the forwardness of the woman. Being cordial and kind, though you could see the twinge of pink that had bloomed on the back of his neck. You tried to keep the wide smile from taking over your entire face, warmth washing over you at his words. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“You two are the cutest!” She held her drink up and you retrieved your own from the table as did Frankie, clinking the glasses together in a toast for whatever notion she had popping into her head.

“I’ll let you two get back to your evening,” She caught sight of the server approaching the table once again with your appetizer and two sharing plates. “We’ll be in touch, I’ll let you know when the article is due to come out, should be next months edition and a blurb in the paper!”

She was gone in a flurry of her long dress, short gray hair catching the low light as she sauntered off as if she hadn’t just told you incredible news.

“Querida, did she just-“

“The next edition. Holy-oh my god. Frankie, she’s going to put my event in the next edition of Edible,” A poof of air left the booth as you settled heavily into it.  He busied himself with unwrapping his utensils from the cloth napkin and reached over to do the same for you. “That’s-I think I’m going to cry.”

His head shot up at your words, concern flitting across his large, brown eyes as he watched you bring a hand up and press a finger to the bridge of your nose just below where your glasses sit. You closed your own eyes and he could tell you really were trying not to shed tears. He was standing and rounding the table in heartbeat, situating himself beside you with an arm wrapped around your shoulders, the first bite of the evening forgotten on his forgotten fork.

“It’s okay, sweet girl.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, resting his forehead against the side of your face after he did so. “This is good news, you did such a good job with the event and she loved it. Let her tell the world. You deserve to be seen.”

“Frankie, I-“ You turned to look at him, resting your forehead against his own as he ducked his head down to allow you to. “This is so amazing. I never anticipated any of this….I never anticipated…you.”

“You’ve got me, sweet girl.”

The rest of dinner went smoothly, filled with easy conversation and jokes, anecdotes about childhood antics and favorite fall activities. When the bill was asked after, by a very gentlemanly Frankie who insisted on paying, the server told you that it had been taken care of.

You found yourself pressed up against the side of his truck outside the restaurant, his plush lips devouring your own before he began to trail open mouthed kisses down the length of your neck.

-

The next few weeks flew by, the end of summer approaching fast despite it meaning little in the way of a weather change. You had hit a few milestones.

With the bakery, you had hired two more counter employees. Allowing you to teach Louise the basics of the kitchen and how to mise recipes she wasn’t comfortable or confident in completing herself for you to pick up. You still did a majority of the decorating, something she was struggling to get just right, but she and the girls delighted in sampling the treats that didn’t make it into the case. The September issue of Edible had come out and in it was an article on your bakery with a blurb about you and the upcoming events similar to the first one you wished to host in the remaining time frame of the year. It brought an influx of tourists in and allowed you to make the most of your time in the kitchen. The last farmers market would be the one after next and you were excited for the lull of responsibility. It was still a lot to be around so many people, the shop filling and lines becoming a normal occurrence on Saturdays.

With your injury, you were free of those pesky stitches and had gotten back to standing and walking normally. You hadn’t been cleared for running quite yet with your knee still a little tender, but had picked back up with the arm and upper body workouts to keep up some of the muscle tone you had left over from working in the medical field.

With Frankie, things were great. He was more attentive and you had actually gone over to his home for family dinners with Lex a few times. She was always excited to make desert with you while Frankie cooked dinner, she liked you and she had told you as much after each meal. Once you’re cleared for it, she wanted to go hiking and camping with you. Something she and Frankie did once a year.

It was Sunday and you were so excited to be going to the beach with your friends, everyone deeming the last drawl of summer something to celebrate. You were checking the tote bags over and over again, Lex following your every step as she ‘helped’ to make sure everything was set for the trip. It would be a few hours drive down to the coast, Frankie’s truck loaded down with umbrellas, beach chairs, towels, and a cooler or two. His backpack was the heaviest, while Lex and you had opted for tote bags for your own things.

She had shown you the packet of temporary tattoos she spent her allowance on earlier that week and had all but dragged you into her bathroom when you arrived the night before for dinner. She had insisted you help her apply them to her arms and legs with childish joy, the flowers and butterflies ‘soooo pretty, we’re going to match!’. Frankie had watched from the doorway as you two sat on the lip of the tub and made sure they were exactly where she wanted them, a soft smile on his face the entire time.

You had looked over to him at one point and blushed upon seeing the goofy way he was watching you and his daughter bond. Thinking about it now made butterflies blossom in your stomach, nervous excitement encompassing you as you thought of how happy he looked in that moment and that you had brought that side of him out.

She was already in her bathing suit, a one piece that she had thrown a pair of shorts over and a baseball cap much like her father’s. Her new brightly colored temporary tattoos on display much like your own as you were in similar clothing.

“Tio Santi! Look, I got a hat like papa’s and tattoos like Pastel!”

She had taken to simply calling you ‘cake’, it was rather endearing and you loved the nickname. You were beginning to love her like she was your own, quiet nights in her family home helping to establish a close bond. You would both tease Frankie about his cheesy movie choices but then get way into them and gasp at all the jump scares, Frankie was a big fan of monster B-movies, something about the hokey nature of them riveting to the beautiful man.

“Oy dios mio, you do, mi amor! You look perfect!” Pop leaned down and caught her mid lunge at him, hugging her tight and swinging her around. He would be riding with you and the Morales’ family. While Will, Benny, Morgan, and Luciana would be riding together. Everyone was coming, it was going to be a good day.

-

The sun was warm on your skin as you laid out, bikini allowing for all of your tattoos to be out in the open and it was a good feeling. The shade of your sunglasses allowed you a bit of privacy as you gazed out over the amazing setup the guys had assembled out on the sand. Morgan was beside you, laid out much the same way you were atop a large blanket that had been put down on the sand. Off to the side was a collapsible shade and some lawn furniture. There was a table set up as well, where the guys had loaded down with stuff to grill and snacks. You had even made some cookies and the cooler was full of plenty of drinks.

Your gaze was trained on a shirtless Frankie, who was currently trying to show Lex how to balance on the boogie board she had insisted on bringing along, but every time it gained buoyancy, she let out shrieking laughter and bailed out. It was a rather funny scene, Frankie too large to show her how to operate it properly. With a grin you stood and removed your sunglasses, but you had grown up around the ocean so you felt comfortable without the aiding prescription.

“Lex, wanna try the board with me?” You moved to pry your surfboard from where it had been settled in the sand, already waxed up and ready. She looked over to you and quickly ran off from her father. He heaved a sigh, smile on his face even as he dove to retrieve the board she had abandoned as a wave began to pull it along into the ocean.

“Pastel, that’s dangerous! Papa said that waves can be scary!”

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll keep you safe if you wanna go out. Or do you wanna watch me first before you make up your mind?”

“I wanna see you do it! Papa isn’t the best at balance.”

“Hey! That’s not fair! I’m more attuned to the sky, and you know that, Alexia.” His hands were on his hips the second he deposited the abandoned board underneath the shade. His mock serious voice had her giggling and she ran over to him and jumped up, he caught her and proceeded to fake body slam her in the sand. “You think your papa isn’t strong? I’ll show you.”

Benny appeared beside them, leaving Will and Pope to start the grill and make sure it was all set for cooking. He slide into the sand and acted as a referee for the play fight, watching for any ‘infractions’ as close as possible. With a very real groan, Frankie found himself the target of a hard kick and he laid out on his back, Lex quickly took advantage and climbed up on his chest and raised her arms in victory.

“We have a winner!!” Benny make a racket as he cheered on before scooping the girl up into his arms to allow Frankie the chance to catch his breath. You kneeled down beside him and placed a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips.

“Wow, you really lost to a child. How’s your ego?”

“’s fine, got you to help inflate it.”

“Oh-o, is that right?”

Suddenly he was lunged up and forward, pinning you in the sand much like he had done with his daughter, his swim trunks hushing with the movement. His hat went flying from his head when you managed to gain your bearings and he found himself on his stomach with your hips straddled over his backside, his hands pinned behind his back. You were giggling like mad, the sound only fueling the way he felt so encompassed by you, his cock stirring in his trunks. He was thankful you pinned him down on his stomach, because he was sure to never hear the end of it if he popped a boner in front of literally all his friends. No matter the stimulation of his beautiful girlfriend easily manhandling him and pinning him down in a mock fight.

“We have another winner!! Mante – one. Fish – negative two.” Benny announced as he set Lex down atop the blanket beside a watching Morgan and Lucianna, handing drinks to each of them.

“To be fair, I woulda let her pin me down too.” Pope hollered as he used a pair of tongs to carefully place slabs of ribs atop the grill, the sizzling immediately smelling delicious. His words made you realize the way you were sitting left very little to the imagination, your bikini bottoms having ridden up high on your thighs, pulling the fabric taut over your bottom half. The momentum of movement having jostled your chest and Frankie was quick to tell him to shut up as he glanced over his shoulder at you.

“Sweet girl, you gotta get offa me or I’m gonna have to drag you away…”

“Nope, gotta show Lex what’s what with the board.” You made a show of leaning down to place your hands atop his shoulders, whispering in his ear as you did so before pushing off of him. You were well aware that he could feel the softness of your chest along his back and the wetness that had gathered at the front of your bikini bottoms as you did so, but you winked at him before gripping the board and taking off toward the shoreline.

He just lay there for a moment, not moving.

“Fish, you good?”

“Just…give me a minute.”

Laughter rang out from the entire group.

“Papa, you got beat by two girls. But it’s okay, we still love you.”

More laughter sprung up.

-

You were wading out on the water, getting a feel for the current and watching as small waves built up before cresting in just the right way. A shadow out of the corner of your eye caught your attention and another person on a board drifted over to you. It was Mark and another person, boards facing your own as they approached. There was the sweet, smiling face of his daughter settled in front of him, a friend of his beside them on his own board.

“Well, hello hello!”

“Hi, nice cake lady!” The little girl enthusiastically waved at you, her wet hair hanging in a mess from the top of her head. “Daddy won’t let me surf all by myself, but this is still so cool!”

“Howdy,” You smiled at them, aware of the way his friend’s eyes were trailing down you body and focusing on the way your bottom was securely sat were you straddled your board. “It’s a good day for it, I’m sure he’ll let you take over if you ask nice enough, sweetie!”

“That event really was something, sorry I had to leave so early,” Mark seemed more reserved, though no less focused on you. “Someone had a lil anxiety about her first sleepover-“

“And daddy came rescue me!” She was so cute with a slight blush on her face. “This is uncle Randy!”

“Pleasure to meet you,” You reached over and extended a hand toward the man. He looked remarkably similar to Mark, same dirty blonde hair and tall build. He was attractive, but not your type, too young for you, you mused. He leaned over to take your hand in one of his own, a wide grin showing his teeth.

“Mark goes on and on about you, about your bakery. Pleasure is all mine.”

“Oh gosh, it’s just a way to pay the bills, but thank you all the same.”

“Looks like a wave is beginning to crest, daddy!” The little girl pointed off into the distance.

“Well, boys, gotta catch this one. See y’all later!”

You maneuvered your board to face the shoreline and began to lean down across the top of it, paddling to line yourself up as it neared. You pushed off, board catching the current that it was creating as it gained momentum. You faintly heard to two men chatting as your board moved with the wave, gaining speed. The wave crested, creating a tunnel at the far end and you jolted up to your feet, stanch wide for balance. The race against the curling of the tunnel had adrenaline coursing through your veins in the only way that surfing could provide you and a large smile broke out across your face. You reached a hand out and the tips of your fingers caressed the curve of the wave as you rode it out.

The tunnel closed in around you and you wiped the board up the wall of it before managing to escape the chase of it after you, the board bouncing with the force of the whitewash behind you. You rode along it for the faint few minutes of its life before it waned. Lowering yourself back to the length of the board as it vanished into the smooth ocean once again, you looked out toward the closer shore and spied the group of people you called family cheering you on. Lex was atop Frankie’s shoulders, her arms waving over her head as you faintly made out her excited words of being next.

The rest of the day was just as lovely, the cookout exquisite. Mark, Randy, and Sophia, you learned was her name, joined your group and even brought over their own modest set of chairs and towels to make it a larger group. You took Frankie’s hand with your own and guided him down to the shore where the sun was beginning to set. He was watching you with such a soft look that it made your heart stutter in your chest and the words were bubbling up before you could help it.

“Frankie, I-“

“I love you, sweet girl.” His plush lips gave voice to the very same thought that had been consuming you for days now. You felt heat rise to your face despite the familiarity you had with the man beside you, and you ducked your head to brush your hair back behind an ear. One of his hands came up to cradle your chin and he lifted your face so he could see the shy smile you were sporting. “I mean it, I love you so much and I want to make you happy.”

“I-I love you too, Frankie.” You leaned into his space, his arms wrapping around your body to pull him flush against his front. His lips found yours and you could feel the wide smile he adorned himself. You teased him as you parted, the feel of him all-encompassing and making your body buzz with warmth and a heady, dizzying feeling you wanted more of. “I’m so lucky I death glared at you the first time we met and got your attention.”

His full body laugh jostled you and you tucked your head into the crook of his neck and your own, soft laugh mingled in the air with his own.

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[redahlia-writes]

you make loving fun. | frankie morales x ofc

five. songbird

content (for this chapter): family feels (a lot), implication of cheating (in previous relationship), references to a past bad relationships, parenting, benny is their honorary child actually, talks of pregnancy and fertiliy, self-doubt, some suggestive language

word count: 5.2k

a/n: this chapter is a little shorter than the previous ones, with more, kind of quicker scenes, but i really wanted it to be out there before i start exams because i don’t know how soon i’ll manage to write the next one. i love my silly little family

reblogs and feedback are always greatly appreciated. you can send it here, too

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“Well, Camila’s crying so I’ll have to keep it brief or I might start doing the same. My brother and Pope said a lot about you, but they forgot the most important part: your heart. Your big, wonderful heart that had space for all of us, for Alba, for all our shitty baggage. Sorry, I know, I’m sorry, I just–I think we take it for granted sometimes, how much you’ve done for us, too. Not just by loving Frankie the way you do, but by being there for us–for me. You took care of my bruises when we’d only just met, you spent nights awake on your couch just listening to my complaints even though you had work in the morning, you overfed me on multiple occasions, and–I warned you I was going to cry. Alright, Cami, you–I love you, thank you for everything, but mainly for being you and taking care of us when you really, really didn’t have to. And Fish–Frankie, thank you, too. Yes, because you brought Camila into our lives, but also for you. You were the first of us to make it out, to get your shit together–sorry, again, I’m sorry–what I’m trying to say is you made me realize love was still a possibility for people like us, that we could have a new life, if we put in the work. I’m grateful for that, and I’m grateful for you–both of you. Now, maybe we should go back to some of those stories Pope was mentioning–”

The Sunday morning crowd made the café feel smaller, a little more chaotic than they were used to, and Frankie did not lose sight of Camila as she gathered their orders while he sat at the small table with Alba–the same table they always sat at, from that first morning still hungover. The people there had started to recognise them, smile at them, linger in small-talk, so it wasn’t all that odd one or the other would be held back for a few moments.

But Frankie noticed the tight line of Camila’s shoulders, the guy in front of her wrapping his arms in a quick hug–she seemed to try to reciprocate, but her arms were stiff at her sides, back pinched together. He frowned, while Camila nodded and responded to whatever it was the other guy had told her, and her gaze flickered towards him and Alba, a tight-lipped smile in their directions even with her eyes a little wider–it took him everything in him to not get up and reach for them both, especially when the guy’s eyes moved from him to the child and back, eyebrows slightly arched, and back further to Camila.

The talk was cut short by a blonde woman pushing a stroller and simultaneously holding a second child on her hip. Camila’s posture went even more rigid, though her gaze softened at the two kids, and with a quick movement of her head she gathered the small tray and walked away, a goodbye thrown over her shoulder as she made a beeline towards the table.

When she returned to the table, sitting between Frankie and Alba, she exhaled heavily and reached for one of the fuming cups of coffee–he bumped his knee with hers, making her glance up with a worried gaze. He frowned again.

“You okay?” he asked, soft enough that some tension left her but not so much so she couldn’t hear him from above the noise.

“Yeah–yes, of course,” she tried and failed to plaster on a smile, another sigh escaping her afterwards as she sagged in her seat. Frankie placed his hand on the table, palm up, and she immediately let her own fall into his, picking it up to bring it up to her face. She brushed her lips to his knuckles in a quick kiss, and he leaned in closer.

“You can talk to me, baby. What is it?” he reassured softly, and this time her smile was true though softer, pushing her cheek against the back of his hand and looking up at him. She cleared her throat then, taking a slow breath in.

“That was Jason,” Frankie looked back towards the man, then at Camila again. “Yes, that Jason,” she added before he could ask. “The very same.”

The same guy who’d broken up with her after a decade because he was bored; the same guy that didn’t like when he could hear her–in their everyday life, or in the bedroom, the reason why she had started singing a little louder, had stopped holding back; the same guy that, despite the years, had still an influence on her sorrys and her fears, although less so now. The same guy who had told her he didn’t want a family, but now pushed a stroller out of the café.

“With a kid?” was the first thing he could ask, baffled.

“With two kids,” she replied, bringing the cup up to her face. “And a wife. Of almost three years, give or take,” she added before taking a sip, flinching at the warmth of the drink.

“Of–wait, what?” he frowned again, glancing over his shoulder as if he could still see them.

“The first kid, too–he’s around Alba’s age, little older maybe,” she smiled at the kid that waved her hands at the mention of her name, placing down the cup to give her the other hand.

“Mila,” he called gently, bringing his chair closer.

“I’m fine, honey, I swear, just a little–” she trailed off, then scoffed with a grimace. “It’s not even confused–it’s not like I didn’t know,” she shrugged, turning to look at him with a softer smile, almost to reassure him. “I did not lose anything after he left, only gained. The loss was all before.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said gently, leaning in to rest his chin over her shoulder, their joined hands falling onto her lap. “You can be disappointed–God knows I wouldn’t be if I found out Sophie has a family now.”

“I don’t think I am, though,” she admitted, tilting her head to look down at him still resting against her. “It feels odd, sure, but I don’t think I care,” she brushed her lips to his forehead quickly, then turned to kiss Alba’s hand, pulling a giggle out of her just as she tilted her head against Frankie’s. “I have all I need, Frankie.”

That same night, when Alba was fast asleep and the house was quiet, Frankie reached towards the other side of the bed and found it empty. Still half asleep, he pulled his head up from the pillow and turned to look at the vacant spot, patting it lightly as if to make sure before sitting up.

“Mila?” he called, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He waited for a response a few moments longer before getting up, padding quietly outside the room.

The door to the bathroom was open, lights turned off, and when he looked to the other side he saw Camila sitting on the floor by Alba’s ajar door, her eyes wide as she nibbled her bottom lip, crossed legs bouncing ever so slightly in agitation. Frankie walked up to her quietly, and when she didn’t look up towards him–when she kept staring at the door instead–he kneeled by her side, ignoring his legs protesting at the movement and position.

“Camila, baby, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, reaching to take one of her hands she fidgeted over her lap, picking at her nails. She blinked rapidly at his touch, gaze flickering unfocused for a moment from the door to him before lingering on the tilt of his head.

“Sorry,” she murmured, giving a quick squeeze to his hand. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I was just wondering where you were,” he shifted back slightly, trying to alleviate some of the pressure to his knees. “Did something happen with Alba?” he asked then, and Camila shook her head quickly, offering him a tight smile.

“It’s nothing, go back to sleep,” she reassured. Frankie didn’t budge, arching his eyebrows slowly, and she sighed, looking down. “You’re awfully stubborn, Francisco.”

“And you’re sitting in front of our daughter’s bedroom and staring at it as if it’s about to catch on fire,” he retorted, returning her smile a little wider–there was a flicker in her expression he almost missed, a light quiver of her bottom lip and her gaze shifting back towards the room. “Come on, let’s get up.”

She hesitated just a moment longer as Frankie stood up, offering her both his hands, and then let him hoist her up and wrap his arms around her, pulling her up–enough so that when he walked forward and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her legs dangled just above the ground. She chuckled softly, letting her forehead fall to the curve of his neck.

“You’re gonna strain your back, Frankie,” she murmured, and he scoffed lightly.

“Are you calling me old?” he put her back down at the top of the stairs, hands sliding down her sides and back into her hands as she chuckled again, eyes fluttering open.

“I would never,” she said in mock offense, tipping her chin up. He caught her pouting lips in a quick kiss before leading her down the stairs, their hands joined behind his back.

He could feel her hesitate every now and then, lingering a step behind and turning her head before he squeezed her hands, encouraging her forward without turning to look at her. She’d done the same for him the times he’d woken up from a nightmare, clinging to her breathlessly until she woke with a startle, shushing him gently and coaxing him up and out of the bedroom, the kettle already on the stove before he fully came to it sitting at the kitchen counter–he did the same now, her eyes following him around as she sat on the counter itself.

The silence that accompanied his presence seemed to be doing part of the work already, her posture relaxing as her legs dangled and rocked slowly–he slotted himself between her knees before placing the fuming cups at her side, the tags of the tea bags wrapped around the handle. When he looked up at her, her eyes had softened, hands searching for him again now that he was within reach.

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” he hummed the same question she asked him those nights, his hands running up and down her thighs slowly, a soothing motion that had her leaning forward. Frankie kissed her cheek, chaste and delicate, coaxing a quick smile out of her.

She basked in the feeling a moment longer, eyelids shut as she rested her hands over his, palm to knuckles–he hooked his thumbs between her thumb and forefinger, stopping rubbing her legs when she tapped against the back of his hands, exhaling slowly.

“He changed his mind,” she murmured, looking back up at him. Frankie frowned lightly.

“Who?” Camila sighed again, tilting her head back.

“Jason,” his name sounded almost like a groan, and Frankie kept his frown up a moment longer. “Or maybe he didn’t and he just happened to knock her up, the poor girl,” she scoffed, shaking her head lightly. “Or it was just me he didn’t want a family with, which–fine by me, that’s not what bothers me.”

“What is it, then?” drawing small circles over the back of her hand with his thumbs, Frankie brought her gaze back to him, his head slightly tilted, his eyes soft.

“He changed his mind,” she repeated, a worried edge in her voice. “So what if–if Sophie does, too? What if one day she just changes her mind and wants Alba back, and–she’s still her mother, Frankie,” the last sentence was whispered, eyes wide and glossed over. He sighed softly, letting go of her hands with one last squeeze to bring his own at the sides of her face, pulling her closer to kiss her forehead.

“She surrendered parental rights, you know that,” he started, voice gentle–still, Camila scoffed softly, looking down at her hands as she began picking at her nails again. It used to be a sore subject for Frankie, the way Sophie had cut ties so drastically, the I don’t want to have anything to do with either of you–not even for his sake, but for Alba’s, the possibility she might search for her mother one day and have to face the reality of the situation, maybe blame it on him. But not ever since Camila had entered their lives.

“She carried her, still, she–” a shuddering breath caught in her throat and she shook her head again. “Where would that leave me, then?” her voice cracked, cheeks flushed. Frankie picked up one of her hands again, stopping her picking, and bringing it up to his mouth, a delicate kiss to her knuckles.

“You’re her mom, Mila, in all the ways that matter,” with their joined hands, he brushed across her cheek, stopping the few tears that had escaped her. “How about this,” he said then, pushing gently underneath her chin to make her lift her gaze, “we’re going to take the day off work tomorrow, keep Alba home, and go sign some papers. I think it’s about time.”

“What?” it was her time to frown, sniffling slightly as he locked their hands together, fingers intertwined still under her chin.

“We’ve lived together for over a year now, no? That’s enough time,” he said, shrugging a little. He tilted his head when she did, too, as if perplexed, and smiled softly. “You are her mother, Camila. Just because you didn’t carry her doesn’t mean you’re not,” he added, careful to hold her gaze.

“I know,” she sighed, then shook her head again with a soft groan. “God, I know, I know–I just can’t help but think she’s not mine, and that terrifies me.”

“She’s yours just as much as she’s mine,” he let his free hand brush across her cheek and through her hair, pushing the dark locks away from her face and, in doing so, keeping her head upright. “And I meant what I said–we can go tomorrow morning, and it’ll be down on paper, too.”

“What about Alba? If she doesn’t–” Camila sounded a little breathless still.

“Mamá?” Alba sounded just like Frankie when she called her that–the same tilt of the voice, the same accent, too. She stood at the entrance of the kitchen and rubbed her eyes, hair standing on edge from where she’d rested on the pillow while she slept.

“Hi, sweetling,” she wiped her cheeks and eyes quickly, and Frankie helped her off the counter so she could walk up to the child. “What is it? You alright?”

“You weren’t up,” Alba pouted, arms extended towards her as soon as she was within reach. Camila picked her up right away, holding her on her hip–the kid let her head fall on her shoulder, buttheading her chin gently as she settled into the curve of her neck.

“I’m sorry, baby–dad and I were craving something warm,” she said just as softly, gaze flickering towards Frankie–he was holding both their mugs now, his eyebrows arched and that same smile softened furthermore, looking at them with a shimmer in his eyes. “Did something happen?”

“Sueño,” she mumbled, one of her hands wrapped around the collar of Camila’s pajama shirt.

“Buen sueño o mal sueño?” she asked, slowly rubbing her back as she began rocking side by side. Frankie got closer, her gaze lifting up to him, as he focused a moment longer on Alba.

“Bad,” the child said, a clear pout in her voice. Camila brushed her lips to the top of her head, sighing softly.

“How about,” she said, hoisting her up a little over her hip so that the child would look at her, “tonight we protect you in the big bed?” Alba was already nodding, tugging the collar of her shirt as Camila smiled. “Is that what you wanted? To stay with us?”

“Yes,” she nodded again, and Frankie chuckled softly, leaning in to leave a kiss to Alba’s head first, then Camila’s.

“Come on then,” he said, his voice softer than before. “Mama and I can have our drinks upstairs. Do you want anything else?” Alba shook her head, arms winding around Camila’s neck as she cuddled against her once more–Frankie looked at the woman then, still smiling, and gently bumped their hips together. “I think that answers your question,” he added in a whisper, to which Camila sighed.

“Thank you,” she murmured, and Frankie leaned in again to press a gentle kiss against her lips, brief and tender.

“Song,” Alba demanded, tugging Camila’s shirt twice with a tight fist.

“Song?” she asked in return, one last look towards Frankie before she turned for the stairs. The child nodded firmly, making her chuckle. “Of course, baby.”

Frankie lingered a few steps back, watching their heads bent together, dark hair of one and the other blending together as Camila began humming a song soft-voiced–she’d first sang Songbird for Alba to calm her down during a thunderstorm, both of them curled up on the child’s small bed (Camila had then complained about a backache). He’d watched the tears dry up on Alba’s face as the song went on and then started again, Camila’s gentle caresses across her face and head to soothe her furthermore, until she’d fallen asleep in spite of the storm raging on. When she could not sleep, Alba would ask for the song again–Frankie had tried, too, but she’d just started giggling, claiming it was not like mama’s. He couldn’t argue with her.

That night, he stayed awake a while longer, watching them sleep–Alba was curled into Camila’s chest, head notched underneath her chin, still clinging to her shirt. Camila had one arm wrapped around her, keeping her close, and the other extended towards Frankie, fingers hooked into the sleeve of his shirt as if in the process to bring him closer yet.

When sleep crept up to him, he turned to his side, sandwiching the little girl in the middle of them, and wrapped his arm around them both, leaving one last kiss to each of his girls’ heads.

Frankie believed he was seeing double. Maybe triple. 

Camila held Alba’s hand tightly in the middle of the airport, while her other arm was wrapped around a woman’s shoulders with such strength he could see the strain in her muscles, head bent towards hers and a light shake in her shoulder, as if she was about to cry.

“Ya, ahora, ¿dónde está mi nieta?” the woman said, a gentle pat to Camila’s back as she pulled away. It was uncanny, really, the way the two looked alike–Camila’s mother hair had more gray, tied in a knot at the nape of her neck, and lines crossed her face, but other than that it seemed like a mirror. And Alba, with her dark curls and big brown eyes, a continuation of the picture. “Hola, muñeca,” Emilia said softly, the words almost lost in the chaos of the place.

Alba clung to Camila’s arm, shuffling to hide behind her leg when the woman bowed to her height, pressing her cheek into the fold of Camila’s skirt. The women chuckled softly, and Camila crouched down next to the child, one arm wrapped around her to keep her close while the other rubbed gently at her chest.

“Don’t you recognise her, nena?” she asked gently, a smile on her reddened face. 

“’puter,” Alba said, wide-eyed, shying towards her mother’s touch. Camila's smile widened, holding her close to her side.

“That’s right–you saw her in the computer, that’s my mama,” she nodded, encouragingly.

Video calls with Camila’s mom had been frequent, Frankie shying away more often than not until Emilia demanded to see him, the same scowl on her face that Camila had when something did not go the way she’d planned it. She’d given him the talk over video call, met Alba and Santi, too–they’d celebrated one of Camila’s birthdays with her on the screen, and eventually invited her over for the next one.

They hadn’t seen each other physically in years.

“Mama?” Alba frowned, looking from one to the other. Emilia was smiling, too, her eyes shimmering as she watched the scene play out. “Yaya?” Alba asked then, and Camila scrunched up her nose with a soft laugh.

“Yes, sweetling–your yaya,” she nodded again, dropping the hand that was resting over her chest before tilting her head. “Wanna say hi?”

“Hi,” the child said, wide eyes lifted towards the older woman while she still partially hid behind Camila’s skirt, fist tightened around the folds. Frankie chuckled from his position a few steps behind, shifting forward to rest his hand on top of Alba’s head.

“Cami was the same,” Emilia shook her head softly, looking up at Frankie, grinning almost conspiratorially. “Tímida,” Camila huffed, a pout pulling at her lips as she stood, picking Alba up with her. Her mother arched her eyebrows as if to highlight her point, then stepped forward, opening her arms. “Come here, you.”

Frankie shuffled forward, placing Emilia’s back down carefully before leaning into her embrace–she was quick to pull him down, the hug leaving him slightly breathless in the tight wrap of her arm, one hand patting his back right between his shoulders.

“Gracias, mijo,” she whispered, a kiss to his cheek that reminded him all too much of his mother’s. “Me la has traído de vuelta.”

His breath stuttered, gaze flicking up to Camila’s face–she held Alba against her side, the girl looking up at her face while she looked at them, eyes shimmering and face flushed. Most of all, I missed my mother, whispered in the nights they’d spend talking about the days before.

Before–that’s how their lives were timed now. Before and after them.

Before, Camila had left home for college, to find a job, and had gone back once in 15 years. Before she didn’t miss home, but she did miss her mother, especially those days when she felt particularly alone. Lovely. Left back. Frankie would wish they’d met earlier then, perhaps their lives would’ve been different then, both of them less beat down by it.

“But we wouldn’t have Alba then.”

Alba clung to her, wide-eyed, a crease between her brows that made her look so much like Camila as she looked at her first, then Frankie and Emilia. Emilia, still patting his back with words of gratitude he’d heard before through a screen. You brought her back to me, as in you brought her back to life.

“Come on now, let’s get home,” she said, walking up to them. Emilia mumbled something that sounded vaguely like impaciente, fondness in her voice as she released Frankie and turned around, hooking her arm with Camila’s. At the same time, she reached for her mother’s bag, gently nudging Alba towards her father. “You got her?”

“Yes,” he picked the child up, not wanting to risk the airport crowd. Alba’s arms fastened around his neck, a small pout forming on her face as she watched the other two walk ahead. “What is it, nena?”

“Is mama sad?” the little girl asked, her voice small. It took Frankie everything to not start laughing, the earnestness of her question catching him by surprise. “She’s crying,” she added, a justification of her pondering. He chuckled softly, leaving a quick kiss to her cheek.

“She’s not sad, sweetie–those are happy tears,” he explained softly, and the frown returned to the girl’s face. He reached up to smooth his thumb over the crease, something he’d do with Camila, too, when she focused too much on papers from work. “See, she hasn’t seen her mom in a long time, and now that they’re together again–that makes her happy.”

“Oh,” Alba kept pouting slightly, then tightened her hold on Frankie abruptly, bringing herself close to him. “I wanna keep seeing mama,” she said quickly, clinging to him. Frankie couldn’t help his laughter again, louder this time, to the point Camila looked over her shoulder with a questioning look. He smiled at her.

“Don’t worry, your mama’s not going anywhere.”

The backyard was lively with chatter and soft music, sun setting slow above their guests. Friends from Camila’s work would come and go, old friends from her college days who seemed to adore Frankie stayed longer, chatting mostly with her, or her mother, or Frankie himself, or the boys who, as always, had arrived first and would be the last to leave.

With Alba on her hip, a glass in her other hand, Camila laughed with Will and her whole face brightened up. Frankie smiled, silently walking up to them–Will was the first to notice him, reaching out for Alba and turning her around before she could spoil the surprise, but said nothing otherwise. Not until Frankie shifted forward, wrapping both his arms around Camila and pulling her back against his chest–she squealed and extended her arm as the drink spilled from the glass, letting out a laugh right after as he placed her back down.

“Let’s go bother your uncle Santi,” they heard Will tell Alba, while Camila turned to look up at Frankie. Her face was bright, cheeks flushed with laughter and smile lines etched at the corners of her eyes and mouth.

“Hi,” she hummed, the empty hand falling to his hip while she curled the other over his chest, glass now half-emptied held carefully between them. Frankie leaned in, leaving a quick peck to her mouth.

“Hi, cumpleañera,” she scrunched up her nose, following the slow rocking rhythm he’d set with his arms wrapped around her, fingertips tracing slow lines up and down her spine. “So–your mom just ambushed me.”

Camila’s eyes widened as she leaned into Frankie’s embrace, her head tilted back to look at him–her smile faltered slightly, brows knitting with worry as she mumbled a, “Oh, God.”

“Asking if Alba’s getting a sibling anytime soon,” he went on, slightly amused. Camila groaned softly, her head falling forward against his chest, her eyes screwing shut before the impact–chuckling softly, he wrapped his arms around her tighter, rubbing her back.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled with a light shake of her head. “I asked her not to, but–”

“Baby, it’s alright,” he pressed the words with a kiss to her temple, nudging her head to look back up. Eyes big again, a small pout formed on her lips as she did, and he left another kiss to her forehead before shifting slightly. “Have you ever thought about it?”

“Have you?” she asked tentatively, her voice unbelievably small. Frankie shrugged.

“Few times,” he admitted, and she tilted her head to the side just a little, inquisitive. “Alba’s almost four and–I don’t know, maybe it’d be nice for her to have a sibling. Not now, but maybe eventually.”

“Eventually?” it was her turn to chuckle, while a flush slowly crept up her neck–she looked around at the people around them, celebrating her, the ridiculous pile of birthday presents resting by the growing rosemary plant. “We’re not getting any younger, honey.”

“You calling me old?” she scoffed with a playful push against his chest that did nothing but make him laugh, his grip on her never faltering as he stepped back, bringing her with her and resuming the slow almost-dancing. “Is that what worries you?”

“Maybe,” she nibbled her bottom lip, taking a moment before looking back at him. “My mom had me when she was really young, and I always thought after 30 I just wouldn’t–” she sighed, leaning a little more into him, the hand holding the glass sliding up and past his shoulder, so they were standing chest to chest. He kept caressing her back slowly, tenderly, encouraging. “I did think about it.”

“You never said,” she sighed again.

“You forgot to feed yourself multiple times when we first started going out, Frankie,” he grimaced. “You were so worried for Alba, all the time, I just–I didn’t think you’d want to do that again.”

“Of course I was worried,” one of his hands traveled up her back, resting underneath her hair right between her shoulder blades. “I thought I was gonna have to do everything alone, I was terrified of fucking up.”

“Well, we could still do that,” she pointed out, and Frankie let out another laugh, shaking his head. “We could!” she protested, words cut short by the quick kiss he left on her lips.

“I don’t believe that–and I know you don’t, either,” he spun them around carefully, turning his head to where Alba was, playing with Santi under Will’s careful gaze, her laughter loud and contagious. “Look at her. I think we’re doing a pretty good job.”

“Yeah,” she rested her head against his chest, looking at them a moment longer. Though he couldn’t see it, he heard the soft smile in her next words. “Yes, you’re right.”

“We don’t have to make any decision now, baby,” he murmured, brushing the nape of her neck. “There’s no expiration date.”

“There is, actually,” with her cheek pressed against him, the words came out a little slurred. Frankie scoffed, the low rumble of his laughter bringing her closer, as close as she could get.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he chided, the feeling of her cheek being lifted with her smile widening making him shake his head. “Still, if one day we’d want to, we can try.”

“And if it doesn’t work out?” she didn’t move, her steps getting smaller, the music almost forgotten in favor of simply moving together. Frankie shrugged again, the movement small.

“Then it doesn’t work out,” again he guided her head back so she could meet his gaze. “I love our family as it is, Mila. You and Alba–this is more than I ever thought I’d get. I must’ve won some sort of existence lottery for having found you,” her smile returned, wide and a little trembling at the corners.

Lowering his head, his hand still cupping the nape of her neck, he kissed her tender and slow. Camila relaxed fully in his arms, her body almost limp in his hold as the arm over his shoulder curled around his neck, and he ignored the condensation dripping from the glass down to his shirt, deepening the kiss furthermore, making her lean backwards in a mock dipping motion. She chuckled into it, but didn’t tighten her hold.

She trusted him not to drop her.

“Although,” he mumbled, so close still she could feel the words twisting his lips even after he’d broken the kiss, “I am starting to think of giving it a try. Just now.”

“Now?” she giggled again, the tip of her tongue darting between her lips. He nodded.

“They won’t notice if we’re gone a few minutes, right?” brushing his lips across her cheek, he shifted until he was murmuring in her ear. “Bedroom’s just upstairs. Don’t even need to get you out of this dress.”

“Francisco,” though she was reprimanding him, he could still hear the laughter in her voice. She pulled her head back to look at him, cheeks red, and he grinned. “Behave,” she scolded.

“It was worth a try,” he shrugged, and her laughter returned more vibrant than before, head tilting back as he straightened them both. “Come on, Benny’s dying to give you his present–I haven’t seen him this excited in ages.”

next

[pennyserenade]

NO NORMAN ROCKWELL PAINTING

pairing: frankie morales x female oc, frankie morales x female unnamed oc rating: m (mature) tags: fluff/comfort, some angst, talk about depression, talk of sex, some language  word count: 3.5k summary: when frankie asks her a question she never expected him to she looks to the past. or: frankie asks her to marry him and she revisits all the moments in their relationship where she would’ve said yes in a heartbeat.  a/n: i just found this in my drafts and finished it up. it’s been a very long time since i wrote these two - from the losing dogs series - but i hope you all enjoy it <3

The first time he kissed her bare collarbone with his warm lips, and touched the small of her back with his large hand, she thought: I needed someone to do that. 

A body that has gone too long thinking of love only as an option is usually the body that needs it the most. Accordingly, because she had for so long thought she could survive without it, hers folded into the warmth of his arms and the crevices of his half-together life before she should’ve let it. 

She is lucky. Frankie has handled her body - and by extension, her heart - with generosity and care. The first kiss on the collarbone was a precursor, not a full stop; she is happy to say that he is brimming with love for her, and that all of his kisses feel that comforting, especially on bad days. 

He has been more patient and considerate than most have been with her. He could say that he fell into her life before he should’ve but he wouldn’t, because Frankie is kind. He is a warm smile in the morning, and he is the man who holds her hand underneath the table at restaurants. Even before they allowed themselves to want each other, Frankie showed up. He held her in showers while she cried and whispered I love you when it was such a foolish thing to say, because it was the one thing he knew he would always have to give. 

God only knows why, after all they’ve been through, she wouldn’t say the one thing she knows he needs, and the one thing she knows she could give. Just a simple yes. When he got down on his knees on the green grass of their shared background, and pulled out a ring too expensive for his salary, she should’ve said it in seven different shades of ecstatic. She should’ve kissed him on the lips and weeped. Anything. But she had looked at the ring in that little box, and she looked at his face and she had paused for too long. What came out, when it did come out, was “Maybe.” 

Life is a whirlwind of poor decision making and tripping over one’s own feet. They know this better than most. Frankie has had his fair share of fuck-ups: anger he gave way to when he shouldn’t have; times when he said yes when he always meant no; second guessing the good things and never the bad; and entertaining lifestyles not completely within his reach. She too knows her fuck-ups: the bad boyfriends she loved too long and the good ones she loved not at all; those bad years, which she would always feel had undone what had made her good by being mentally unwell; and the reluctant pause and subsequent ‘maybe’ she gave Frankie when he had asked her to be his wife. 

It wounded him. She could see it immediately in the fallen expression that flashed across his face when he recognized she hadn’t said the enthusiastic “yes” he imagined she would’ve. Now they’ve shared six whole days of near silent meals and quiet evenings that say too much. When they do speak, it is the talk of people who haven’t shared many years of life together. They are conversations that extend mostly to “Do you know where I put my coat?” and “I’m going to work now.” They remind her of the years when they played at not caring. She hates herself for doing that to them. 

It would’ve been yes if she was a more perfect person, but she isn’t and he knows this. And the six days of silence haven’t been borne out of her hesitance, but because she knows him too: if she had said yes directly after the maybe, he would’ve thought she did it because she felt she had to. If she had said it during the five days that followed it, he wouldn’t have understood or wanted it.

He is angry, upset, hurt. The ring is shoved under piles and piles of underwear in his drawer, and he only comes to bed when he is too tired to stay in the living room. Sometimes, when he doesn’t think she’s paying attention, he stares at her like she’s a puzzle he’ll never figure out and then he looks down at the ground, frowning. 

If only he knew how it has been six days of nonstop thought for her. She has prepared her I’m sorry speech for every situation conceivable: before work, after work, catching him in the hallway, the moment he crawls into bed at night, the dinner table. The words have been rehearsed and rewritten and beaten to death. Until today, they’ve always sounded wrong, slightly off. 

Today she tries her hand at pure and honest exasperation: “Francisco I know you’re angry with me, and you’re right to be, but I am sorry. If I could go back and take those words from my mouth and put the right ones in, I would. I want to marry you and I don’t know what stopped me from saying that.”

The spoon he stirs the cream into his coffee with continues on, but the muscles in his back seem to relax. She thought it would be easier to say that with his back turned to her, but not seeing his reaction immediately worries her–makes her feel like she did when she said maybe. Poor. Foolish. Out of step and dizzy. 

“Frankie,” she pleads, her voice giving way to worry. 

He turns around, eyebrows furrowing. “I don’t know what to say,” he tells her. He doesn’t sound angry or mad, just honest. Her stomach turns viciously and she regrets that second cup of coffee. 

“Do you still want to marry me?”

Frankie takes a careful sip of his coffee and she feels like he’s doing it slowly, deliberately. She watches his mouth, sees how the liquid goes down his throat. “I want you to want to marry me,” he tells her, “and I’m sorry if it feels like I’ve been angry with you. I have been but I’m not anymore. Not really. I know I shouldn’t have asked you that, especially because we’ve never really talked about it. I just thought...”

She frowns. “Yes you should’ve. You thought right.”

“Then why did you say no?” he asks, frustrated, placing a hand on the counter. He leans back against it. 

“I said maybe.”

“That’s right: maybe.” He takes another long drink of his coffee, staring at the hardwood floors.  “You’re allowed to tell me no. I think the fact that you said maybe is what made me so angry with you, like you couldn’t even trust me to handle no. I know now that’s probably not the truth, but I kept thinking about it like that.”

“But it wasn’t no, Frankie. It was yes but I was…I don’t know. Shocked.” She shrugs remorsefully. “You know it hasn’t been easy between us–or for us in general. There are some things you learn to forget about after a while, and I think that was one of those ideas I had parted with when it came to you. You’ve already been married and I don’t know–I felt like you had enough of it for a while.”

He smiles, showing a hint of his dimple. “I’m feeling a bit like an ass right now, talking to you about it.”

She laughs. “I love you, Francisco and I want to marry you. I’ve said yes to you a thousand times in my head.” 

“Wish I could’ve been there,” he jokes, pushing off the counter. She scoffs, throwing the paper towel next to her at the table. He dodges it, watching them bounce off the cabinet. They begin laughing with each other, happy laughter, laughter that spills from their lips and heals the cracks created by anger. It fills the kitchen with warmth, like thawing out the ice after a bad winter. 

She looks up at him laughing and she knows that she wants him, that she always will. 

She knows that she always has. 

———

The summer night sweltered outside of her cracked bedroom window. Their naked bodies, warm and damp with sweat, pressed into each other. Frankie’s arm held her body upwards, his arms wrapped just below her breasts, pressing her back into his front. He groaned quietly as he thrusted into her. She tugged at his curly, unruly hair, and kissed the side of his mouth clumsily when it tried to meet hers from an awkward position. The crickets from the yard filled the spaces that their moans, shared and separate, did not. It was too early for the words ‘I love you’ to spill from their mouths the way it would later,’ but it occurred to her at that moment - two months after she had first met him in that bar -  that it was growing inside of her. 

Frankie. Sometimes when she was alone, the idea of him excited her. Not sexually, but romantically; she enjoyed kissing him, enjoyed the way he pulled her close, held her like he was then. They had agreed that what they were sharing was sex and friendship - they laughed over beers and pretended that they didn’t kiss until they were - but she understood that when they were together like this, a shift occurred. He held her so tightly, and pressed into her so slowly at times she imagined he felt his loneliness more deeply than she did hers. The sex brought them pleasure but something else, too. Understanding. 

When he filled the condom inside of her, he nibbled at her earlobe and his warm breath fanned across her goosebumped skin. Closing her eyes tightly, she imagined the sound of it rising in his throat, spilling out lovingly: I love you. And when he put his fingers between her thighs and rubbed her clit without guidance, she felt it rise in her own. But she didn’t say it, because she knew she didn’t mean it. It was only a want, a silly desire she had played out with other men, too. 

It was only when Frankie held her close on between the cotton sheets - their bodies now damp - and told her that he went to meetings with men who had said they found God, that she knew she wanted him differently than she had other men. He confessed that it made him angry when they said that; that he couldn’t understand how someone could go through something like he had and feel like God was the answer. Frankie admitted that he was too much of a coward to really abandon the idea all together. He was Catholic before. Frankie had told this to her without making light of it. In her bedroom, he felt he had the right to his emotions without needing to laugh at them first. 

She thought, as she aimlessly stroked his hand, the one with the tattoo: So he wouldn’t want a church wedding. 

That was the first time she knew she would say yes. 

——

Black-and-white movies made Frankie feel anxious. As a child his mother had sat by the television and repeated the words that fell from the lips of the actors in them. It was her heavy accent that frustrated her sometimes to tears, but he thought at the time it was these movies with no color. He would sit on the couch and watch her struggle with the words and when she would stop her echoing of the dialogue, he would know that she had given up for the time being. 

Even long after he had learned that she had done this to learn better English, and that the tears were products of frustration, he found the movies still discomforted him. The worlds, so devoid of color, made him bounce his leg and remember every syllable his mother had tripped over in front of him. 

Frankie had never told her about this bit of his childhood, not until his stomach could handle the movies without turning and his leg had long stopped bouncing. 

When she was sad, she loved to watch them. They were colorless worlds with colorful characters and they were simple: you moved from point a to point b in the plot with little thought needed. She liked to listen to the syrupy sound of a made up accent fall from the lips of people who didn’t seem quite real, too. The actors were more like fairy tale creatures than tangible beings, people with showy names that were more important than their characters. She never knew the name of the characters, only the actors who played them. He learned them: Bette Davis, Henry Fonda, James Stewart, Ginger Rogers. 

One night as The Lady Eve played on the TV in her bedroom, Frankie laughed at one of the jokes. “I used to hate these,” he confessed, laying his head across her lap, “But I’m kinda fond of them now. They’re so stupid.”

When he said that, she nodded, smilingly. Frankie said stupid affectionately, like she did. He meant: they make me laugh, even though I shouldn’t. 

After the movie ended and she ended up crying because she needed it, Frankie told her about his mother and about how he had only just recently begun to like the movies. “Because of you,” he had added, hoping it would make her feel better. It did. 

That day, as she curled into his body, she imagined that he would make a good husband. She knew that if he ever asked, the answer would be yes. 

—

Led Zeppelin. Bob Seger. The Rolling Stones. Cheap Trick. Creedence Clearwater Revival. Prince. 

These bands and artists used to belong solely to her. She had a vast collection of records she had picked up over the years, and gradually, as Frankie found himself taking more space in her life, they became his bands and artists too. He flicked through the collection with deliberation every Sunday morning he spent with her, adding comments and asking her questions about all the various things he found. Jokingly she called this time “Frankie’s College Hour” because he reminded her so much of one of those college radio hosts with too many unfiltered thoughts and too much time to himself. 

That Sunday morning Frankie had his head between her thighs as the Janis Joplin record he picked out spinned. 

Sometimes it happened like that: on the couch, in the daylight, when both of them were either too sad or too happy to deny they wanted to be touched. Today it was too happy. He had picked out the record after she had made him breakfast, and they had sat talking about the music. He had realized just how very much he liked her, as he sometimes did, and she could see it in his eyes. Frankie didn’t want to be her friend, so he did the next best thing he knew to do, aside from confessing: he spread her legs and pressed his tongue against her. 

When he made her cum to the sound of Janis Joplin, she turned her head and saw their discarded breakfast plates on her table. At that moment, she knew that if he asked her to be his wife, she would’ve said yes. That Sunday morning was so domestic, she wanted it to be real. 

——

She hated his friends. Well, most of them anyways. There was one, named Ben. Benny, Frankie called him. She didn’t mind him so much because it was obvious how much Frankie adored him. Frankie hadn’t come to her with much: a truck, a kid, an ex-wife, and Ben. She gave way to Ben because she understood Ben came with Frankie, whether she liked it or not. 

One night she had gone to Frankie’s house for dinner and Ben was there too, watching football with him. She had met him a handful of times before but she had never really sat and talked to him. Over dinner he had told her a handful of amusing stories about their time in the service, and she had managed to forget this man was the one who Frankie had endured most of his troubles with. 

It became obvious later that night that Frankie hadn’t told him what kind of relationship it was they shared. Benny had asked her whether she had a boyfriend or not after they had chatted for a little while. She had said no, partially because it was true and partially because Frankie hadn’t told someone so close to him what she was to him. That hurt her.  

He had asked her to come see a boxing match of his sometime and she had said, smiling too warmly, that she would love to. When Benny had left, Frankie pretended it hadn’t happened. It was easy for him to disregard things like that, especially when it came to Benny and her. Frankie viewed Ben as being kiddish, someone who needed guidance, and he viewed her as too kind, too capable of saying what pleased people. He hadn’t expected her to really go to that match, just as much as he hadn’t assumed Benny to really be flirting; it was just what they did. 

The crash never came but a realization did, when he really did run into her at one of those matches. She looked so pretty, wearing a summer dress and strappy sandals, holding a beer. Benny had gotten them seats next to each other, somewhere near the front, and every time Ben staggered or a blow landed to his head, she flinched closer and closer to Frankie. 

Frankie could’ve been angry, could've been possessive and bitter. A part of her hoped he would be, even though she knew it was wrong to want that. But Frankie said nothing. He took them out to a burger joint afterwards, and paid because Benny had won his match and only managed to get one busted eyebrow in the meantime. Benny had sat next to her in the booth, Frankie on the other side. 

The only signal Frankie gave her the entire night was a barely perceptible shake of the head when Benny got up to go to the bathroom. Frankie wasn’t mean, didn’t get a hard look in his eye as he looked at her. He was apologetic, pleading. Please, the look told her. And then he asked her how she liked the match, like nothing had happened. 

Frankie went home with her that night, after he had dropped Benny off. They had sex in the garage, unable even to climb out of his truck to get into her bed. It was not sex that was quick and harsh, like it could sometimes be. Their bodies came together slowly and his mouth almost never parted from hers. After she had told him she was sorry for being such a bitch to him. He had told her, softly, affectionately, “It’s okay, honey. I know. I get it, and I’m sorry too.”

And he meant it. 

She wanted to marry him so badly, it had created an ache in her. 

——

She takes the blue box from his hand giddily, making sure the emotion is apparent on her face as she opens it up this time. Frankie laughs, shaking his head. “Oh, c’mon, don’t make a mockery of it. I’ll put it back in the underwear drawer.”

She smiles as she puts it on her finger, liking the way it looks despite the fact that she doesn’t exactly love how much she knows it must’ve cost him. This is months of his life on her finger, a luxury he couldn't afford but did. It is one more sacrifice he made willingly, happily, stupidly in his love for her. 

“Do you like it?” he asks quietly, staring down at her finger. He holds it between his own fingers for a moment, inspecting the ring. “I can get a different one if you don’t like it.”

She looks up at him, sees the vulnerability in his expression, and her heart softens for him once again. “Oh Frankie,” her voice cracks. “ I love it. Really. Thank you.”

He brings her hand up to his lips and kisses the inside of her palm. “You sure you really want to marry me?” he mumbles against her skin.

She nods her head without a second thought. It comes to her just as it did all those other times and she knows it to be true.

 “I’ve never been more certain of anything, Francisco.” 

“That’s good,” he whispers, the grin meeting his dark brown eyes. “That’s so good, really, because I don’t know what I’d be without you, honey, and I don’t want to know.”

“I know,” she tells him softly, because she gets it too. She wishes she was better with words because if she was, she would tell him that he was always the man she would marry. Instead she says, “Thank you so much, Francisco. Thank you.”

The way the skin around his eyes crinkles tells her that he does get it, though and she knows just looking at him that she will want to marry him many more times before she actually does. 

That body that thought it could live without love now survives because of it. And she thinks: It is good to be alive. 

[jb2856]

Hands

Uhhhhh smut? Just a little sexy bluuurbbbb - A person admires their partners big strong hands. Imagine whoever you like ya know? Lol*cough cough*im.partialtojoelmiller

18+ ONLYYYY pls thk uuuuu

Fem!reader x male!partner

Ok bye enjoy

I often think of his hands, the way they caress and hold me reverently.

Long, thick worn fingers that give way to wide, warm palms. I like to suck on his fingers after he teases them inside me. I like when I find myself on my knees, my watery eyes glancing up at him hazily, my shaky hands gripping the meat of his wiry thighs. His hands often end up in my messy hair, gripping tightly, but he holds back as he fucks himself into my mouth, afraid to let go. But I want it, I yearn for the display of his strength. I want to see him let go and lose control, to thoroughly enjoy it.

And I gasp for air as he pulls away, his hands always end up somewhere on me. They soothe, they search, and they adore. His thick thumb and forefinger will tuck themselves under my chin and tilt my head up purposefully so our eyes can meet.

“Fuck baby girl,” He would tell me, his fucked out voice, seductively deep. Enticing.

His piercing eyes would have a shining glint of admiration in their gaze, my own staring back blearily, a tear wet on my cheek. His thumb would gently brush it away, his fingers lowering, splaying out and cupping my throat gently.

“You’re so pretty when you cry.”

Oh, fuck. This man and his hands.

[boogiewrites]

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Javier Peña x OFC

Never Break the Chain 5 Part Series (Javier Peña and the original character Esme) Complete

The story follows the moments in their relationship in which things change, carrying the story of their romance from being young and in love in Texas at age 18 to the modern Narcos timeline. We follow Esme on her rise to being a top thief and Javier Peña's rise in the ranks. We see how their paths inevitably intersect in Columbia and how they handle coming face to face after a faked death and decades apart. It's dramatic, it's a cop loving a criminal and them being torn between their ways of life and their love. There's a happy ending among the angst.

Part One  Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Another Man (One Shot)

You see Frankie in a new light, and that light just started a fire inside you.

Explicit 18+ : Dirty Talk, Rough sex, p in v, oral f receiving, talk of bodily fluids, ownership.

Din Djarin x Reader

Burning Star Din Djarin is a long-time associate and friend. When faced with the truth about the creed he's taken, doubts begin to grow in his mind about his choices. He comes to you, looking for a confidant and he finds more than he bargained for.Begins latter part of S2, porn with plot. A growing romance between two characters that thought of themselves as solitary creatures now wanting to no longer be alone. But with The Mandalorian being who he is, things can never be so simple.

Chapter 1

[absurdthirst]

The Cupid Shuffle {Frankie Morales x F!Reader x Pope x F!OC}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: Exhibitionism, voyeurism, bisexual women, mentions of past sexual relationships, little bit of putting on a show for the boys, women making out, mentions of fantasies, oral sex (male and female receiving), partner swapping, unprotected sex, cum eating

Comments: Inviting Pope and his girl over for a low-key Valentine's night movie turns in to something much more.

A/N: Valentine's Day foursome? More likely than you'd think!

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Babe. I was talking to Santi and he’s cool with a movie night tonight. Him and his girl are going to go out tomorrow like us because tonight is always crazy busy. So it’s a quiet one in for Valentine’s Day.” Frankie says as he comes up to you to caress your waist, leaning in to kiss your neck. “You wanna go get some snacks? You know Santi will eat us out of everything if we don’t buy extra.” He jokes and you turn your head to kiss him, smiling against his lips. “What time are they coming over?” You ask and he murmurs, “seven.”

You grin, happy that this is happening. Santiago Garcia, or ‘Pope’ as Frankie calls him, is dating your friend from college. You had been the one to set them up, absolutely in love with your helicopter pilot boyfriend and Pope had always been a flirty, fun time when he was in town. After he’s moved back permanently, you had set them up and the rest is history. “Perfect. A low key night is just what we all need.” You promise, kissing him again 

and smirking. “And after, I’ll give you your present.”

Frankie smirks, loving how eager you are and he’s excited to get you in bed after the movie ends and Pope and his girl are gone. “Baby, you’re already my present.” He murmurs, nipping your ear as you lean back against him. “Let’s get everything set up and we need blankets for the movie.”

You decide to have groceries delivered instead of going out, allowing you and Frankie to clean up and get ready to have them over. It’s not necessary, but you set out some of the candles Frankie got you for Christmas and light them, enjoying the romantic glow with the soft blankets strewn around for couples to cuddle under. “This is better than battling the craziness of a restaurant and a movie theater.” You decide, smiling at Frankie. You know that he hates crowded places and is constantly on alert for threats, so it’s easy to accommodate him and do a romantic night in on the busiest day for most fine dining restaurants.

Frankie nods, “it looks great, babe. I prefer this than going out and battling the crowds. We got some movies saved on the tv so we have a few options. You gonna make that dip?” He asks, biting his lower lip with a pleading expression. You nod and he groans, his hands caressing your side, “fuck yes. I can’t wait for that.”

You laugh quietly, swearing that dip is what made Frankie fall for you. Eating your dip at a party to the point where he almost made himself sick. “I’ll go make it now, I’ve got everything I need.”

Frankie playfully smacks your ass and you gasp, making him chuckle. His life was so dark before he met you. You brighten his days, make him believe in a hopeful future. You saved him. He’d be lost without you. “I’ll go get the drinks ready.” He says, making his way to the garage to grab the ice bucket and drinks for the movie marathon you have planned. Pope and his girl will be arriving soon.

The other food arrives and you set the store bought wings out on a tray and pop the pizzas into the oven and dump a bag of cheddar popcorn into a bowl. Just as you are setting it and the dip out, the doorbell rings out. “Oh! They are here!” You squeal, excited to see them.

Frankie heads to the door before you, opening it to greet his best friend and your best friend. You’ve been on quite a few couple dates, enjoying each other’s company during game nights. It’s been a perfect combination so far. “Hermano. Todo día más feo.” Pope teases Frankie as he pats him on the back in a hug and Frankie affectionately rolls his eyes as your best friend steps around the men to greet you.

“Hey!!!!” You and Dara throw your arms around each other and squeeze tight. Always happy to see each other and it’s such a joy to see your friend so happy after having so many shit boyfriends before Pope. You had constantly moaned together that it seems like there weren’t any good men anymore, and now you are both with ones that are completely amazing. If Pope had been kind of a playboy before, he had focused all that flirtatious energy into making sure your friend was head over heels for him. “How are you? I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had time to call!” You apologize and look at her once you break apart. 

She grins at you, “I’ve been so busy with the new job and honestly, going to Pope’s nearly every night. I’m hoping he’s going to ask me to move in soon since I basically live with him by now anyway.” She says, squeezing your hands as she glances over at Pope who is telling Frankie about his latest client in his security business. “We need a brunch to catch up.” Dara giggles and you nod, “yes we do. You want a drink? I got that vodka that you like.” Dara nods and lets you drag her into the kitchen with a smile.

“It going okay with your girl?” Pope asks Frankie who nods, glancing back at the door you disappeared through.

“She’s everything.” He murmurs, a silly smile on his face that Pope understands.

“Sooooooo.” You grin as you pour the vodka and add juice to it for Dara before mixing up one of your own. “Tell me, how is basically living with Pope?” You ask. “You look happy, really happy. And I love that for you.”

Dara grins, her cheeks hurting from how much she’s been smiling, “honestly, he’s so good. In every way.” Her voice lowers slightly, “he flirts like crazy with me and only me. All that attention makes a girl crazy in love.” She confesses and you squeal quietly, the ice cubes in your drink shaking as you bounce a little.

“Love?” You ask and she nods in confirmation.

“Who would’ve thought? Both of us in love? Especially when we were lonely and horny and used to-” Dara is cut off as the boys come into the kitchen to grab their beers, “you ladies ready for an epic movie marathon?” Pope asks, leaning in to kiss Dara on the cheek.

“Let’s do it.” You wink at Frankie and he nods, walking back into the living room to get the movie up on the streaming service. Pope and Dara take a seat on the large sectional, snuggling into each other and Frankie holds his arm out for you to curl into his side.

You fold into his arms easily and pull the cover up over your laps. The snacks are out and you smile over at Dara and Pope as they curl together near you, Dara closest to you. “Let me know when you need another drink.” You murmur to Dara before the movie starts.

The movie is some superhero movie the boys wanted to watch. The next movie is your choice. The explosions are loud and Frankie glances over at Dara and Pope whose eyes are on the screen. His hand slides down from your shoulder until he’s squeezing your breast. Your eyes flick up to his face and he is smirking slightly, knowing you can’t make a noise otherwise the others will know. His hand slides a little lower, brushing past your stomach until he is sliding his hand under the hem of the dress you’re wearing. His fingers trail along your thigh, slow and teasing, and you spread your legs a little for him. Covered by the blanket, his fingers slide higher until they are pressing against your clit through your panties.

Your breath catches and you bite your lip so you don’t moan, not wanting Dara and Pope to know what Frankie is doing to you. You aren’t focusing on the movie, having no clue what is going on as your boyfriend starts to rub tight circles on your clit, teasing you as he touches you. Frankie loves to make you cum and you have no doubt that he will right now, regardless of the other people in the room.

Pope smirks as his hand sneaks under the blanket, teasing his girlfriend as he caresses her through her clothes. She offers him a warning look, knowing that they are in someone else’s home. All thoughts of propriety leave her mind when his finger finds her clit, rubbing through her panties under her shirt. She bites her lip and focuses on the screen, unaware that you are doing the same thing. Frankie can feel how tense you are, trying to control yourself and that urges him on, rubbing your clit a little faster and you put your leg up, acting like you’re getting comfortable when you’re really giving him more access to you.

Pope glances over at the two of you, noting the smug smirk on Frankie’s face and he grins. He knows that look, and with the way you are squirming, you’re doing exactly what he and Dara are doing. He leans in and presses his lips to his girlfriend’s neck. “Dirty girl. Just like your friend.” He whispers playfully, biting her ear.

Dara stiffens slightly until she looks over at you and Frankie, knowing that look on your face. "Looks like you had the same idea as us." She declares and you rip your eyes away from the screen to look at your friend just as she pulls the blanket away from her lap to expose Santi's fingers rubbing her clit under her underwear. 

"Jesus." Frankie hisses, his cock already hard against your side as you lean against him. You smirk and pull your blanket off too, watching as Santi continues to rub Dara's clit. 

"Damn, baby. What a sight." Santi coos and Frankie doesn't stop his movements. The four of you watch each other, the movie forgotten as you moan softly. 

"Wanna have some fun, like old times?" Dara asks, her eyes flicking between you and Frankie.

Frankie’s eyes widen, gaze darting between you and his mouth is hanging open. 

“Baby?” You turn to look at him and lean in to kiss the bare spot on his jaw where his whiskers never grow. “Do you want to see me fool around with Dara?” You ask him, turning to look at Pope with a questioning look. You think it would be sexy, but if your boyfriend or Santi isn’t okay with it, you wouldn’t touch her.

Frankie is a little dumbstruck and he nods, looking over at Santi who grins and says “fuck yeah.”

Frankie leans in to kiss you softly, “yes. I want - want whatever you are comfortable with.” He murmurs, pulling his hand from your underwear to give you the freedom to touch Dara how you want. 

Dara grins, “like those lonely nights back in college.” She teases, leaning in to cup your cheek after Santi pulls his hand away from her and she leans in to press her lips to yours.

You are familiar with her mouth, accepting the kiss eagerly and curling your hand around the back of her head and sliding your tongue into her mouth. There were plenty of nights that you had done this and more, because you were bored, lonely, curious and finally just enjoying yourself. You hear the way the boys groan beside you but you are enjoying the way you know they are staring at both of you.

Santi reaches down to squeeze his cock through his pants, not noticing Frankie do the same as the two men watch their girlfriends kiss. Every guy’s dream honestly. Frankie caresses your back, squeezing your ass as you slide your tongue against Dara’s until she pulls back with a grin. “I wanna - do you want to switch?” She asks breathlessly, glancing behind you to Frankie.

You know that Dara has always been interested in how Frankie is as a lover and despite him being your boyfriend, you aren’t jealous. This woman has been a lover on and off for years and you have no jealousy. “What do you think, baby?” You ask Frankie, reaching down and pulling her tits out of her shirt and sneezing them. “Do you want to touch Dara like this? Show her how good your tongue is, like I’ve bragged about since the first night we’ve fucked?”

Frankie is torn, wondering for a second if this is a test, but your eyes are dark with lust and he glances at Pope to make sure he’s on the same page. His best friend nods, “as long as I get to see what these blowjobs you rave about are like.” He teases and Frankie smirks, “just you wait, hermano.” 

Dara giggles, leaning in to kiss you again. “Any of us have an issue, we say it.” She says, setting the rules as she shuffles around you towards Frankie, reaching down to squeeze his cock through his pants. “You weren’t lying when you said how thick he is.” She says and Frankie blushes slightly.

“I would never lie about that.” You coo as you crawl towards Santiago. “My baby is packing, and he knows how to fuck a girl until her legs are jelly.” You bite your lip as you straddle your friend’s boyfriend. “Just like I’m curious to find out how Santiago fucks you so hard you pass out.” You caress his cheek and lean in, the movie forgotten in the background. “Can I kiss you, handsome?”

Santi nods, his hands immediately finding your waist and he groans when you grind down onto him, leaning in to meet your lips in a kiss. Frankie inhales sharply when Dara reaches down to undo his pants, reaching in to pull his hard cock out. 

“Fuck, she wasn’t lying. You are packing. And uncut like Santi. Love that.” She murmurs and grips him, leaning down to take him in her mouth as her eyes focus on his while he watches her.

You look over as Frankie’s head drops back to the couch cushion and he moans loudly. You love the sounds he makes when you are blowing him and now you get to see him from another view. “You want to have a little competition, Dara?” You coo. “See who can get the guy to the brink of cumming the fastest?”

She pulls off of Frankie’s cock, a smirk on her lips as she looks over at you. “You’re on, baby. Let’s blow their minds.” She grins and you peck Santi’s lips as you slide down his body until you are working his pants open. Dara pumps Frankie in her hand and his eyes watch you as you take Pope’s cock out. Jesus, he feels his cock twitch in Dara’s fingers as your eyes meet his.

“Fuck, you weren’t lying when you said he has a beautiful cock.” You hum, pulling the foreskin back and looking at the bead of precum that has built up at the tip. “I can’t wait to hear him moan.”

Santi watches you as you take the head of his cock into your mouth, “mierda.” He curses and looks over at Dara who has taken Frankie back into her mouth with a moan. The men’s eyes flick between their partner and the woman sucking their cock. Groaning as Santi caresses your head and Dara chokes as she tries to take Frankie deeper.

You know Dara knows how to give head so you put everything you’ve got into sucking Santiago’s cock. Wrapping your fingers around the base and pumping while you work him deeper, making sure that you make him wet and keep your palette soft.

“Fuckkkk.” Santi pants as you take him deeper and Jesus, your mouth feels so good. He hisses and Frankie nods, “damn good. So fucking good.” He pants as his hand comes up to grip the back of the sofa, trying to keep himself from thrusting up into Dara’s mouth.

You moan around Santiago’s cock, enjoying the way he throbs and pulses in your mouth when you swallow around him. Reaching down and gently cradling his balls when you let go of his shaft and completely engulf him in your mouth until your nose is pressed against the short hairs at the base of his cock.

“Holllly fuckin’ shitttt.” Pope hisses, his fingers curling in the edge of the sofa cushion and his toes curl as you take him deep. “Fuckkkk.” He exhales shakily, eyes rolling into the back of his head as you blow his mind.

Dara chuckles around Frankie’s cock, knowing how good you are, and she ups her game, bobbing her head a little faster so Frankie hisses at the pace. "Holy shit."

You have to let up, needing to watch Frankie’s eyes roll back in pleasure. You hum around Pope’s cock and reach for his hand, pulling it to the back of your head. Encouraging him to thrust up into your mouth or push your head down. Wanting him to completely lose control.

Pope groans, keeping you still as he thrusts up into you, his cock twitching as he pushes down your throat. Fuck, no wonder Frankie looks dazed whenever he comes back from his lunch break. “She’s good, hermano?” He asks and Pope nods, panting slightly.

You don’t know if Pope plans on cumming down your throat but you don’t let up. Bobbing your head and swallowing around him, keeping the suction tight around his cock as he throbs on your tongue.

He doesn’t want to cum down your throat. He lets out a strangled choke and grabs the back of your neck, dragging you off of his cock and he watches you stay connected to his length with a line of spit. “Holy fuck.” He gasps, trying to calm himself down and he looks over at Dara who is taking Frankie down her throat.

“One day, you need to cum down my throat.” You gasp as you try to catch your breath, grinning up at him before you look over where Dara is still sucking Frankie’s cock. “Fuck they look so sexy, don’t they?” You moan, sinking a hand between your thighs and inside your panties. “I don’t know which one is sexier right now. And I’ve fucked them both.”

Frankie pants, turned on by your statement. He knows your history with Dara, you’ve talked about your sex life and Frankie must admit that he’s jerked off thinking about you and Dara messing around. He hisses when Dara pulls off of his cock, knowing he won’t want to cum, and Pope moves fast to drag you up his body. “Whose cock do you want to sit on?” He asks you with a smirk.

“Weelllllll, I think I want to sit on your cock, baby.” You lean in and press your lips to Santi’s. “I want to hear Dara squeal Frankie’s name while I moan yours.” You are dripping at the idea and reach over to grab your friend’s face and pull her close for another kiss. “Do you want to lick your boyfriend’s cum out of my pussy, baby?” You ask her breathlessly.

She nods, a whimper escaping her lips and she grabs her shirt to pull it over her head. You follow suit with your dress, leaving you both in panties that are soon shoved onto the floor. You straddle Pope, caressing his chest through his t-shirt, feeling his heart thumping in his chest. “Goddamn. You’re gorgeous. Fish is a lucky fucker.” He compliments you, his hands finding your ass to squeeze your cheeks until he slaps them.

“You’re lucky too, hermano.” Frankie groans, stroking his hands up and down Dara’s back before cupping her tits. “Your girlfriend is fucking breathtaking. Too good for your ugly ass.” He jokes, leaning in and biting her shoulder.

Dara whimpers and reaches down to grip Frankie’s cock. You know she has an IUD and is clean. She knows you are the same. She trusts everyone here and she’s excited to have a good time. She’s dripping wet so notching Frankie at her entrance isn’t hard work. He slips into her as she sinks down onto him with a low moan.

Both you and Santi watch, eyes blown with lust as your boyfriend and his girlfriend start to fuck. “Fuck,” you pant as you look back at Pope. “I need you inside me.” You beg, reaching down and gripping his cock. “Will you fuck me, Pope?”

Santi nods, his hands sliding down your back until he’s squeezing your ass again. “Take what you want, bebita.” He orders and you shuffle closer, swiping his cock through your folds a couple of times before you start to sink down onto him.

Frankie groans as he watches you take his friend’s cock. The way your jaw drops and he twitches inside of Dara. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” She murmurs to him, her eyes watching her boyfriend and her best friend.

“Fucking amazing.” Frankie groans, unable to believe this is happening. “You are so tight, hermosa.” He praises, rocking his hips up and slapping her thigh gently. “Never thought I would get to do this.” He huffs, groaning again when she squeezes him hard enough to make him twitch.

You watch Frankie and Dara, clenching around Pope’s cock hard enough that he hisses. “You like watching them, baby? You like watching them fuck each other?” He coos into your ear, biting down on your earlobe. “You’re so fucking wet around me. Always wondered what you’d be like. Frankie said he’d give me a chance with you.”

You moan softly, wishing you had known about those conversations before now. “He has.” You hum, clenching down around him. “How do you like being inside your best friend’s girl?”

“Fucking love it.” Santi groans, smacking your ass with both hands. He hisses your name and rocks you a little faster on top of him. “You enjoying it?” He asks you, leaning in to nip your jaw.

“Yesssssss.” You whimper, closing your eyes and tangling your fingers into Santiago’s hair while you start to bounce on his cock. “Always wondered what it would be like to fuck you. Imagined you and Frankie both railing me. Now I want that and to see you both rail Dara.”

Santi groans at the same time as Frankie, imagining that dirty thought. They have shared women before during time stateside but he loves the idea of sharing you with his friend and his girlfriend more often, watching you all like his own private porno. “Goddamn.” Frankie hisses, cupping Dara’s tits and pinching her nipples to make her gasp.

You giggle quietly and look over at your boyfriend. “You like that idea, baby? Fucking me and Dara with Santi? Being complete sluts for the two of you? I know you would want to have Dara sit on your cock while I sit on your face.”

Frankie groans, cock twitching inside of Dara, “and Pope can fuck her ass.” He smirks, knowing his friend has a big thing for anal.

Dara chuckles, “double? Fuck yes.” She groans, “then I can play with that gorgeous pair of tits and kiss your girl. Keep her satisfied while you suck on her clit like I used to.” Dara smirks until her jaw drops when Frankie thrusts up into her.

“Fuuuuuuck.” Santiago hisses and his hands tighten on your hips. “You never told me that.” He huffs. “I’d have had you telling me all about it while I was making you scream.” He has had quite a few ideas of fucking you and Dara, but to know that you used to eat each other out? It’s sexy as fuck. “I’ll want to see that while I recover enough to fuck her.”

“We can show our boys how to eat pussy, can’t we baby?” Dara winks at you and moans when Frankie thrusts up into her again. “Oh do that again.” She begs, knowing he has found the right angle and Frankie obliges her, keeping her still while he fucks up into her like it’s the last thing he will do.

“He’s so good, isn’t he?” That’s not to say Santi isn’t a good lover and he steals your attention back to him with the next thrust. Making you moan and turn back to crush your lips to his while you start to ride him again in earnest.

Dara watches you kiss Santi and it sends her over the edge, she cries out against Frankie’s shoulder as he thrusts up into her with vigor, grunts escaping his lips as he jackhammers up into her until she is squealing. Shaking against your boyfriend as she cums, soaking him and her nails digging into his shoulders.

Santiago actually stops thrusting into you, although his cock is pulsing harshly, twitching inside you as he watches his girlfriend cum all over Frankie. “Jesus Christ.” He hisses, so turned on by the sight he almost cums himself. “Now it’s your turn.” He promises, kissing you passionately and starting to move when Dara collapses against Frankie’s chest.

Frankie stops thrusting once Dara is worked through her orgasm, wanting to watch you cum on Santi’s cock. He doesn’t want to cum too soon so he strokes Dara’s back as they both watch Santi start to thrust up into you. “That’s it, Bonita. Want you to cum for me.” Santi coos, his hands squeezing your ass to help rock you on top of him.

Your boyfriend encouraging to cum throws you over the edge. Tossing your head back, you cry out in pleasure. “Santi!” Your walls clamp down around his cock and you soak him as your body shakes.

He groans as you clamp down on him, squeezing him tight. 

“Holy shit, Fish. Like a goddamn vice.” Pope hisses and works you through it by rocking you on top of him. His cock is throbbing inside of you. “Wanna - don’t wanna cum yet.” He admits and Frankie nods. 

“Get on your hands and knees. Both of you.” Frankie orders, smacking Dara’s ass.

It takes a moment for you to move, but when you are on your hands and knees by Dara, you lean in and kiss your friend. “Fuck.” You giggle against her lips. “Isn’t this the fucking dream?” You ask breathlessly, looking over your shoulder at the two men and smirking. “They are both so fucking hot and want to fuck us.”

Dara smirks back, “a girl’s fucking dream, baby. Remember when we used to talk about something like this happening?” She asks and you nod, leaning in to kiss her again, sliding your tongue against yours. The two men groan, slowly jerking their cocks before they shuffle forward, notching themselves at the dripping wet cunts and pushing back in.

You don’t know exactly who is inside you for a moment while you are kissing Dara. Eyes closed and trying to guess because your cunt is already a little abused from the fucking. Until his hands grip your hips and he drills forward hard enough to make you gasp into your friend’s mouth. “Frankie!”

Your boyfriend chuckles as you gasp out his name and he slaps your ass. "Want you to cum for me, hermosa." He demands, knowing he can pull you apart easily. He hisses when you teasingly clench around him. 

"That's it baby." Pope groans when Dara grinds back onto him and he thrusts into her, making her moan into your mouth before she sucks on your tongue.

Dara nods, knowing it won't take much. She hisses as she rocks back onto Pope, his fingers rubbing her clit, but when you lean in to kiss her, your fingers pinching your nipple, she's sent over the edge. "Fuck!" She squeals into your mouth as she cums, clamping down on Santi's cock.

Both men groan at the sight of the two of you locked into a kiss when Dara cums. Santiago grips her hips tights to continue fucking her and Frankie moans as his own pace quickens. You know they are loving the sight and you swallow her sounds as she comes apart.

Frankie wants you to follow, his hand squeezing your tit as he rocks into you. “Fuck baby. Want you to cum for me.” He demands, pinching your nipple as Dara pants against your chin.

His cock is shredding against something wonderful inside you and you know you won't last long. You never do when he's hammering into you like it's the last thing he will do. Your body starting to stiffen with each thrust until you let out a loud cry, unable to stop yourself from tumbling over the edge and drawing out your pleasure.

“Fuckkkk.” Frankie groans when you squeeze his cock like a goddamn vice. “That’s it, hermosa. Jesús Christ.” He hisses, trying to hold off from filling you up. He pants your name and caresses your stomach, enjoying the way you soak him.

Dara groans and pushes back against Pope's cock. "Need you to cum, baby." She begs softly. "Both of you. Want to see cum dripping out of both of our cunts."

Pope grunts, jaw clenched as he pounds into your best friend, his nostrils flared as he seeks his orgasm.

Frankie groans, smacking your ass when you clench him, egging him on. “Fuck fuck fuck.” He hisses, pushing deep as he fills your walls with his hot seed in one of the most intense orgasms he’s ever had.

“Fraannnnnnnkie.” You whine his name, rolling your eyes back in pleasure as he paints your walls with his cum, hearing Pope hiss out Dara’s name beside you as he is the last one to cum, his hips stuttering and his entire body jerking in pleasure as he fills her. “Oh god.” You pant, collapsing down onto your cheek and look over your friend and her boyfriend as he slumps over her back and kisses along her spine. “That was amazing.” 

Frankie leans over you to kiss you, his tongue sliding against yours and you kiss him back as hungrily. Dara chuckles breathlessly, “now I wanna taste your cum from her pussy.” Dara smirks at you, “wanna sit on my face like we used to?” She asks, biting her lip.

“Fuck yes.” You moan, clenching around Frankie and the thought of her tongue against your cunt. Frankie is amazing at eating your pussy, but Dara was just as good, if not slightly better. “I want to taste Pope’s cum too.”

The two men shuffle from behind you, pulling out slowly, and move to sit on the other side of the sofa, eyes eager. Dara shifts to lay down and she smirks at you, tapping her cheek and you shift to straddle her face, stretching your body over hers so you can push her legs apart, finding her creamy cunt. Dara doesn’t hesitate to lean in, sliding her tongue through your folds with a groan.

It takes a good bit of tilting her hips, but your own tongue quickly follows suit while both men groan around you. Watching as you two sample their cum from their girlfriend’s cunt with an eagerness that borders on feral. You love the saltiness of Santiago mixed with the sweet tang of Dara, licking the mixture from her swollen folds and holding her legs apart when your tongue swipes over her sensitive clit. 

“Fuck me.” Frankie murmurs, watching you both writhe and lick and suck. It’s primal and his spent cock rests against his thigh but his stomach twists with arousal at the erotic display.

“Mierda.” Pope murmurs, watching just as intensely.

You love the fact that they are watching, but this is honestly for you and Dara. They have cum and it will be a little while before they can fuck again. You clench around nothing when you hear Frankie groan, and suck a little harder on your friend’s clit. 

Dara squeezes your ass, loving the way you rock back onto her tongue. Her hips tilted so you can lick deeper into her pussy. It’s intoxicating and everyone is feeling the intensity of this moment. “That’s it baby. Lick her clit. She likes that.” Frankie coaches you, seeing Dara’s reactions.

You hum, grinning into her folds as you obey Frankie. It’s no hardship, especially since that’s exactly what she likes. You suck her clit into your mouth and give it a series of kitten licks that makes her moan into your cunt.

Dara’s tongue gets faster, anxious to make you cum like you used to. She laps at you, sucking on your clit and swirling her tongue around it while the boys continue to watch with rapture. “Look so good, bebita. Wish I could take a a fucking photo.” Pope groans, watching with dark eyes.

She pulls her lips away from your clit for a moment, making you whine. “Do it.” She moans before she dives back into your cunt. You moan your own agreement and nod. You trust the boys not to share that, and you would love to see how sexy this looks from their perspective.

Pope scrambles to find his pants on the floor, getting his phone and he looks over at Frankie who nods enthusiastically. “Do it, hermano.” He insists and Pope smirks as he takes a photo of you and Dara. “So fucking hot.” He groans softly, taking a couple more.

You whimper when Dara sucks on your clit again, so close to cumming as you rock your hips back. Pushing down onto her tongue. Your hand slides up and you push two fingers inside her, knowing how much she loves to cum around something.

“Fuck.” She cries out against your folds, her lips slick with cum and your arousal, and the boys watch in awe as her thighs start to shake around your head. “Cum for her baby.” Santo orders, his cock twitching in interest.

It only takes another few moments of sucking on her clit and pumping your fingers into her cunt before she is crying out. Her walls clenching down around your fingers and soaking them with her cum.

The boys hiss, watching Dara cum, and Frankie leans forward on his elbows, planting them on his knees as he watches Dara ride her orgasm on your fingers. “Your turn, hermosa.” Frankie rasps and Dara nods, her tongue pushing back inside of you, her chin against your clit as she tries to push you over the edge.

You whine, eyes fluttering closed and your mouth drops open when she flicks her tongue inside you, sending you over the edge. Your entire body bucks and you squeal in pleasure as the waves of bliss crash over you, making you gasp out as you grind back onto her face.

The guys groan, their cocks half hard at the sight in front of them. Pope smirks, biting his lip as he watches you cum. “Beautiful. Fucking beautiful.” He coos to both women. 

“Goddamn.” Frankie murmurs, watching Dara work you through it before she shifts to pull her mouth back.

You sit up and shift off of her, smirking at Dara and pulling her in for one last kiss before looking at the boys. “Happy Valentine’s Day, boys.” You hum playfully, making Dara giggle as she clings to you and it might be the best Valentine’s Day that you’ve ever had. Definitely one to repeat.

[tightjeansjavi]

ℙ𝕖𝕕𝕣𝕠 ℙ𝕒𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕝 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝔽𝕚𝕔 ℝ𝕖𝕔𝕤 ♡

𝓑𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓫𝔂 𝓣𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓙𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓼 𝓙𝓪𝓿𝓲

𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 (+18) 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙧, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩/𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩. 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙗𝙚 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡.

ᴊᴏᴇʟ ᴍɪʟʟᴇʀ : ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ + ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ

♡ @chaotic-mystery

dbf!joel series (Dbf! Joel Miller x f!reader)

Warnings: mature (+18) smut, fluff, implied age gap (legal)

If you are looking for some nasty, toe curling smut, look no further because Maddi has mastered the craft! dbf!joel is just so hot.

___

♡ @loquaciousferret

Country Lovin’ (pre!outbreakJoel Miller x F!Reader)

Warnings: mature (+18) smut, alcohol use

Master list for other Pedro works

Love me some pre!outbreak joel

___

♡ @mishasminion360

In an Instant (Joel Miller x fem reader)

Warnings: mature (+18) canon typical violence/angst/death

Master list for other Pedro Works

this story absolutely shattered me. Ripped my heart out and stomped all over it. Beautiful writing.

___

♡ @lovers-liability

Close Your Eyes (Joel Miller x AFAB reader) *series*

Warnings: mature (+18) mentions of death, smut/fluff

Jaw dropping, stunning depictions of finding love during the apocalypse

___

♡ @forever-rogue

The Locket (Joel Miller x Fem!reader)

Warnings: mature (+18) TLOU canon typical violence, language, angst, mentions of death

Master list for other Pedro works

absolutely heartbreaking read. I loved it so much, I went back for seconds.

ꜰʀᴀɴᴋɪᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴀʟᴇꜱ : ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ + ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ

♡ @peterhollandkait

Everything I Know Leads Me Back To You (Frankie Morales x AFAB reader/ OC *series*

Warnings: mature (+18) addiction,angst, triggering themes, smut

Master list for other Pedro works

Frankie + Sunny = your heart getting crushed.

ᴊᴀᴠɪ ᴘ : ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ + ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ

♡ @loquaciousferret

Little Games (Javier Peña x f! Reader)

Warnings: mature (+18) smut

Master list for other Pedro Works

One word: delicious.

ᴊᴀᴠɪ ɢᴜᴛɪᴇʀʀᴇᴢ : ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ + ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ

♡ @mirasantidotes

Messy Annotations (Javi G x fem!reader) *series*

Warnings: none, tooth aching fluff,shy!javi G + sunshine! reader

Cutest shit I have read in awhile. Javi G is to die for in this one.

ᴅɪᴇᴛᴇʀ ʙʀᴀᴠᴏ : ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ + ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ

♡ @fuckyeahdindjarin

Consent Series (Dieter Bravo x Intimacy Coordinator F!Reader)

Warnings: mature/explicit content (+18) smut, gloriously douchey Dieter Bravo

Master list for other Pedro works

Cee’s writing of Dieter makes me absolutely feral. I would let this man ruin me any day of the week

___

♡ @whatsnewalycat

psychomanteum (Dieter Bravo x F!Reader) *series*

Warnings: mature (+18) alternating POV, death, drug use, alcohol use, spooky stuff

Master list for other Pedro works

This story deserves to be in it’s own category to be honest. Totally unique, eccentric, a must read!

ᴊᴀᴄᴋ (ᴡʜɪꜱᴋᴇʏ) ᴅᴀɴɪᴇʟꜱ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ + ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ

♡ @fuckyeahdindjarin

Palomino Series (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)

Warnings: mature (+18) flirting, eventual smut, lots horsey details

Master list for other Pedro works

Cee and I became pals after I started reading this story. As a horse girl/equestrian, Palomino just itches my brain in the best way. Oh, and Jack is pretty delectable as well.

ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴅᴀʟᴏʀɪᴀɴ/ᴅɪɴ ᴅᴊᴀʀɪɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ + ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ

♡ @theidiotwhowritesthings

Familiar & Unfamiliar (din djarin x female!reader)

Warnings: mature (+18) attempted assault on reader (not by Din), canon violence, angst, fluff, light smut

Din Djarin Masterlist

This is one of my favorite depictions of Din. Protective, soft, and still a little dom. Chefs kiss

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♡ @frannyzooey

Take Me To Church (Din Djarin x Fem!Reader Western/AU)

Warnings: mature/explicit (+18) smut on smut on smut

Master list for other Pedro works

AU anything is so good, but this one? Takes the cake. Absolutely delicious in the every way possible.

[lady-bess]

LadyBess' Masterlist 📖

Hello, and welcome to my Masterlist! Grab a snack, two fingers of whiskey, and take a look at what I've got to offer! 🥃

I write predominantly for Pedro Pascal characters at the moment, but this is a multi-fandom blog, so characters in and out of the 'Pedro-verse' are featured here too!

My works are often 18+ and each fic comes with its own content tags and warning. Minors, please DNI ✨

For ease of navigation, I have used a Traffic Light System to rate these works 🚦

💚 Green is for General/Teen rated content 🧡 Orange is for more Mature works 💋 Red is for anything rated Explicit

My writing is mainly reader-insert content, but I have a mix of Female, AFAB, and Gender Neutral (GN) reader inserts 💜

Not all of these works are on Tumblr yet, but feel free to check out my A03 profile for all works!

Please enjoy, and come back regularly to see what's new!

Current Series: Fallout (Jack Daniels x F!Reader) Most Recent One-Shot Release: On The Nature of Daylight (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

One-Shots

"Petals" - Jack Daniels x F!OC (Tumblr Ask/Prompt) "Something Sweet" - Jack Daniels x F!Reader (A03) "Departure" - Jack Daniels x F!Reader "After Hours" - Jack Daniels x GN!Reader (A03) "Fright" - Jack Daniels x F!Reader (A03) "Swing" - Jack Daniels x F!Reader (A03) "The Perfect Fit" - Jack Daniels x F!Reader (A03) "A Preposterous Thing" - Jack Daniels x F!Reader "Homeward Bound" - Jack Daniels x F!Reader "Restless" - young! Jack Daniels x F!Reader "The Lodger" - Jack Daniels x F!Reader "Dessert" - Jack Daniels x F!Reader (A03) "Chasing The Sun" - Jack Daniels x F!Reader (A03) "Afternoon Intrusions" - Jack Daniels x F!Reader (A03) "A Lesson Learned" - Jack Daniels x F!Reader (A03) "Closing Time" - Jack Daniels x F!Reader (A03) "Bound" - Jack Daniels x F!Reader (A03) "Disciplinary" - Jack Daniels x F!Reader (A03)

Multi-Chapter/ Series'

"Jack-mas Christmas Drabbles" - Jack Daniels x AFAB/ F!Reader (A03) "Fallout" - Jack Daniels x F!Reader

One-Shots

"Birthday Wishes" - Joel Miller x F!Reader "The Headache" - Joel Miller x GN!Reader (A03) "Foolish" - Joel Miller x F!Reader

One-Shots

"Getting In A Pickle" - Javier Peña x F!Reader "Take A Seat" - Javier Peña x F!Reader "Hot Nights in Colombia" - Javier Peña x F!Reader (A03)

Multi-Chapter/ Series'

"Monday Morning" - Javier Peña x F!Reader (A03) - collaboration with @joels-darlin 💕

One-Shots

"Drive Me Wild" - Frankie Morales x F!Reader (A03) "Return To Me" - Frankie Morales x F!Reader (A03) "Longing" - Frankie Morales x F!Reader (A03) "Sundress" - Frankie Morales x F!Reader (A03)

One-Shots

"Birthday Boy" - Javi G x F!Reader (A03) "Behave Yourself" - Javi G x AFAB!Reader (No pronouns used)

Multi-Chapter/ Series'

"Heist" - Javi G x F!Reader - COMING SOON

One-Shots

"Three's A Crowd" - Jack Daniels x Joel Miller x F!Reader "Watch & Learn" - Dave York x Javi Gutierrez x AFAB!Reader

Multi-Chapter/ Series'

"Just A Date" - Multiple Pedro Character fic x GN!Reader "Mutually Beneficial" - Javier Peña x Frankie Morales x F!Reader (A03)

Much loved characters, but so far only 1-2 fics to their name 💜

One-Shots

"Understanding" - Marcus Pike x F!Reader (A03) "Now You See Me" - Marcus Pike x F!Reader (A03) "Clean Up" - Max Phillips x F!Reader (A03) "Hypercharged In Hyperspace" - Din Djarin x F!Reader (A03) "Trust" - Din Djarin x F!Reader "On The Nature of Daylight" - Din Djarin x F!Reader "Rookie Mistake" - Tim Rockford x F!Reader

Multi-Chapter/ Series'

"A Brand New Start" - Agent Ortega x F!Reader (A03)

One-Shots

"Salvation" - 11th Doctor (Doctor Who) x Clara Oswald (A03) "Run" - 11th Doctor (Doctor Who) x F!Reader (A03) "Rose Petals Blossom" - 11th Doctor (Doctor Who) x Rose Tyler (A03) "Precious Moments With You" - 11th Doctor (Doctor Who) x F!Reader (A03)

Multi-Chapter/ Series'

"Paint The Town Red" - Ginger Ale (Kingsman) x F!Reader

[prolix-yuy]

So if you’re feeling it, i would love a fic about Frankie’s first time as an escort…Thank you and love you lots💕

Mari my darling, this ask is sooooooo delicious! Especially because as much as we've alluded to Frankie's work, we haven't actually seen any of it yet. Though I'm gonna pull a little bit of a fast one on you in regards to the wording here, but I think you'll enjoy where it takes us.

Frankie's First Time

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x F!OC "Lily"

Summary: What was Frankie's first time like?

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, grinding, oral sex (f receiving), we are dedicating another 2k words to Frankie's kitty king skills, fingering (f receiving), safe PiV sex, a whisper of ass play, Frankie AND Lily's filthy mouths, watch me make up shit about sex work.

Notes: This was a blast to explore how Frankie "auditioned" for Pope's, and how he got the reputation we all know and love. I also got to explore things from Frankie's POV, so we get some insight into exactly why he's so competent in places. Even though Ms. J is sitting out this story, we know she's thanking Lily for her service well into the future.

Cross-posted on AO3

Sex Worker!Frankie AU Series Masterlist

He’s not sure if he’s supposed to knock on the chipped blue door or let himself in. The whole situation feels weird, like an audition for a play he never learned the lines for.

Well, at least the metaphor’s pretty accurate.

“Come in,” floats through the wood, answering his question, and with a deep breath and a turn of the knob Frankie steps into a whole new world.

She’s walking to greet him when he steps over the threshold, a bright smile on her face.

“Pope said you’d be punctual,” she says, one hand on her hip as she surveys him. Now that he’s here and actually doing this - really considering sex work - his jaw locks up and hands wipe nervously back and forth against his jeans. He nods quickly, grimaces a smile, and scuffles his feet on her doormat. 

“Oh, you are a cutie, you don’t need to be this worked up around me. I don’t bite,” she says, taking the last steps to rub her arms firmly up and down his biceps. Her touch is comforting, the raise of her eyebrows and nod a well-earned reward. “Let’s sit down and chat. Do you want water, coffee, iced tea?” She coaxes Frankie further into her apartment, waiting for him to toe off his boots with a mumbled apology before sitting him on her maroon couch. Leaving briefly, she returns with two iced teas. Frankie gulps his down fast enough to make her smirk.

“So you’re friends with Ironhead and Golden Boy? And Pope too, of course.” Frankie’s eyebrows knit together in confusion until he makes the connection.

“Will and Benny, yeah. Pope sent them to you too?” he asks, twisting the cup in his hands to give them something to do. 

“What can I say, I’ve got a lot of experience vetting the talent,” she quips back, turning to tuck her knees onto the couch and face Frankie more fully. He takes a moment to actually look at her more than quick glances. She’s pretty but in a way that’s disarming, a way of watching him that makes him feel like she knows his secrets but won’t share. Her chestnut hair flows over her shoulders in silky waves, complimenting her warm skin and umber eyes. He thought she’d be in some tight little tube dress but the lightweight tank top and shorts compliment her natural beauty with a realness Frankie didn’t know he craved. Her toes are painted baby pink.

“You’re making me nervous you swallowed your tongue, honey, can you tell me how you’re feeling right now?” she says, and Frankie coughs out a laugh. 

“Sorry, I’m feeling…shit, way out of my depth,” Frankie says, leaning forward to put down the glass. He remains hunched, head in his hands as he takes a deep breath.

“One step at a time, baby, let’s start off easy, okay?” she says, and that firm hand on his arm directs his attention back. “They call me Lily. Not my real name, you know. Will and Benny picked their own, you have one in mind?”

Frankie leans back and slaps his thighs.

“No idea, my call sign was Catfish but…nothing much else.” Lily laughs, and the noise is soothing to his frazzled nerves.

“Catfish it is. Was it the whiskers?” she asks, reaching over to scritch her fingers lightly into Frankie’s scruff. The touch is surprisingly welcome, her demeanor calming. He didn’t think he’d be ready to be touched yet.

“Long story. You don’t think that would weird out…uh, clients?” 

“Might make them more intrigued.”

Her hand moves to settle on his thigh, and the familiar stirrings of intimacy through touch rumble under Frankie’s skin. But it’s too fast, brings too much of the artifice of this situation to the forefront, and Frankie balks.

“So where are you from?” he says, voice booming in the small room. He winces at the volume, but Lily doesn’t move her hand.

“Colombia. Came over with a bunch of other girls.”

Frankie remembers this part of the story.

“One of Peña’s informants?”

“More or less.”

“But you’re still…?”

Lily scoots closer to him, and Frankie tries to relax into her proximity. She is pretty, long limbed and smooth skinned and smelling of sweet soap. 

“I get to do something I enjoy and I make money. And this is the nicest place I’ve ever worked, though much quieter than I’m used to.” She taps Frankie’s thigh to turn his attention back to her. “If you don’t think you’ll enjoy it, I would recommend you not start. It’s not easy. If you’re not looking forward to the good parts, the not-so-great ones will make you miserable.” 

Frankie nods, thumb worrying at the denim stretching across his thighs. 

“What are you afraid of happening?” Lily asks, and now her knee is pressed against his thigh. The tension starts to bleed out of his shoulders. She’s good, no wonder why she’s Santi’s best girl.

“It’s, ah…it’s a lot of things,” Frankie starts. She waits, her hand moving to stroke soothing circles. “What if someone finds out that I don’t want to know? And what do I do with the…clients? Like how do I plan out what they want or figure it out and what if they don’t like it? Or don’t like…me. Am I…” Frankie pauses and looks, really looks at Lily. “Would anyone actually want me? I get Will, and Benny. But I’m not…” 

The rest of Frankie’s concerns slide back down his throat as he sighs and rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes. Lily lets the silence stretch for a moment longer.

“I’d recommend keeping the work between you and as few people as possible if you’re afraid of being found out, but it’s a risk you’re taking no matter what. A client could out you as much as a stranger.” Frankie hums and nods as she continues.

“As for what you do, Pope will give you some background. You’re not going in blind, which is a big plus to this setup. Are you taking all clients, or being selective?”

“I, uh…hadn’t thought about that. Probably women to start, and then…I’ll see.”

Lily’s lips curl at the corners.

“Full of surprises. Women can be hard if they don’t know what they want. Part of what we’ll do today is find your boundaries so Pope knows how to schedule your clients. If you don’t do men, he won’t give you any. If you might do something out of the ordinary if you have clear direction, he’ll talk it through with you. And if there’s something you’re very good at, you’ll be his go-to guy.” Lily’s fingers tap up his forearm thoughtfully. “We’ll find those things too. I’m a discerning lady, and if you’re good I’ll know.”

Frankie sighs and finally lets go of that last bit of tension holding him hostage.

“As for your last question…” Lily says, lifting up on her knees. “Can I sit on your lap, honey?”

Frankie’s eyes go wide, but he nods slowly at the request. Lily swings a leg over and settles on his lap, big hands going to her hips immediately. She smiles down at him and lets her fingers wander through his hair, tugging the Standard Oil cap off to free his curls.

“You’re worried they won’t want you, or like what you bring. But from my perspective, a broad-shouldered man with huge hands and the most kissable lips I’ve ever seen is underneath me, and if those big brown eyes are anything to go by, you’re a thorough, and attentive lover.” She swipes her thumb over his lips as he parts them. “When they open the door and see you standing there, big boy with soft eyes, their pussies are gonna throb.”

“Fuck,” Frankie breathes out, shuddering against her touch. 

“Soon enough,” she quips back. “First, ground rules. You never jump right into fucking. Always make sure you’re both clear on what she wants and how she wants it. Check in, make sure she’s not feeling pressured.”

“Of course,” Frankie says, confusion flitting across his face. “I thought everyone did that.”

“Oh sweetie, you are a slice of perfection,” Lily giggles, and Frankie’s hands tighten on her hips. 

“Take your time. Don’t rush it. You know how long she’s paid for, so give her every last moment. You might be the first person to ever give her undivided attention, and that will keep her coming back.”

“You ever get attached?” Frankie asks, his cock filling at her hot body pressing into his lap. Maybe this wouldn’t be so difficult. He’s certainly having a good time with her now.

“Yes, once or twice. You redirect those emotions into something useful. Channel those feelings into care for the person. You love how happy you get to make them feel. You’re attracted to how they open up and trust you. You’re giving them a valuable service and you enjoy that.” 

Frankie rolls his hips below her, and she tugs his hair with a cheeky smile.

“Lastly, before I see what you bring to the table, always be safe. Condoms always. If she wants something risky, for herself or you, that hasn’t been discussed, you respect your boundaries. And you walk away if it’s getting out of hand. Pope will always have your back.”

“Okay,” Frankie murmurs, his eyes hooding as his gaze licks over her body.

“Now,” Lily says, her voice dropping into a sultrier register. “I’d like to kiss you, Frankie.”

“Yes, please,” he murmurs back, tilting his head back for her descending lips.

She’s perfectly soft against his mouth, but firm as she cradles Frankie’s head. He moves his lips against hers, the gentle presses he usually starts out with before he deepens the kiss. She sighs into his mouth, hips rolling slightly as he strokes his fingertips up her spine. The pebbling of her flesh swells pride in his chest. 

“Mmm, feels good, Frankie,” she hums, backing off just enough to signal Frankie it’s his turn to show her what he can do. Splaying his large hands on her back, he leans up to meet her lips again, another chaste press before he slips the tip of his tongue along her bottom lip. She opens for him, and he thanks her with soft little laps, barely touching as his hands roam her back, the strong muscles of her thighs, weave through her hair. They’re rocking together in a rhythm neither consciously chose, Frankie’s cock starting to ache at the lack of pressure. 

Her nails scratch across his scalp, tugging his curls just shy of painful, and he delves his tongue deeper into her waiting mouth. She groans, sliding down his thighs to finally fit her core against his straining length. The welcome friction drives his kiss deeper, her teeth sinking into his bottom lip, tongues sliding more fervently. She finally breaks away, lips shiny and eyes bright.

“Mmmm, you’re a very good kisser. Let’s take this to the bedroom,” she says, lifting off Frankie’s lap. A small noise of protest leaves his lips at the loss, but he obediently follows through a plain hallway to a sparsely decorated bedroom. The nightstands are simple honeyed wood, a matching headboard behind the king-sized bed. The bedspread is an inoffensive dark gray, crisp white sheets folded primly at the head. Lily turns around and stands at the foot expectantly.

“I, uh…do you want me to just…” Frankie stammers, the confidence waning. 

“How about we do what you normally do, and I’ll chime in as needed. Show me your moves, handsome.” Her coquettish smile entices him to step forward and cup her face in his hands, brushing their noses together again before he parts her lips with his own and drinks from her. She melts against his front, fisting his t-shirt as he gathers the hem of her tank top in his bigger hands.

“Can I take this off you?” he asks, tracing his nose along her cheek as she nods. Pulling the thin fabric over her head, he takes in a sharp little breath that she’s not wearing anything underneath it. His hands travel up just below her pert little breasts, dark nipples tightening at his touch.

“I’d like to put my mouth on you,” he pants into her ear, waiting patiently for her breathy, “yes, Frankie,” before he guides her back, banding an arm around her waist before laying her down. On his knees between her spread legs he drinks her in, parted lips and hazy eyes and a body he wants to take apart until she’s a shuddering mess.

“Frankie,” Lily calls lightly, a smile brightening her face.

“Sorry, you’re just…beautiful,” Frankie says, allowing a little of the awe to creep in as he hovers over her prone body.

“I like it when you say what you’re thinking,” she replies, fingers back in his increasingly messy hair. He makes a note to keep it a little longer if this is the treatment he’ll get.

“I think there’s a lot more I want to taste than just these,” he purrs, lowering his mouth to wrap around her nipple and softly suck. Her back arches, legs caging in his narrow hips as she sighs at the clever licks of his tongue and drags of his lips over the supple flesh. Frankie loves breasts of all shapes and sizes, and her small handfuls are no different. He loves how his whole hand can dwarf their size, how large his thumb looks swiping over her puckered nipple. He switches to the neglected one, his thumb and forefinger rolling the wet bud in the absence of his mouth.

“Yes, Frankie, that’s so good,” she mumbles, thighs tightening around him. He drops his hips into the cradle of her sex, a shallow grind relieving some pressure while driving her pleasure higher. With a satisfied hum he lifts to capture her mouth again, lips plumper and reddened from his thorough work. She accepts with fervor, nipping and sucking at him until his hands find hers and he presses them into the mattress.

“You taste so fucking good,” he groans, dipping to lave his tongue along her neck. She squirms underneath him, reedy moans making his head spin. “Not faking any of this, are you?” he huffs, breaking the heady tension. Lily fists his hair again and pulls him to eye level, a sardonic smile on her swollen lips.

“Not a chance in hell, honey,” she rasps, and Frankie can practically feel his dimple pop out at her breathless admission. 

“Want to taste you here too,” he admits, rolling his hips against her hot core. “Want to make you cum on my tongue. Would you like that?” he asks, bolder in his question now that he’s coming into his wheelhouse.

“Yes, Frankie, fuck, definitely yes,” she pants, hands coming to tug at his offending clothing. He shucks his flannel and t-shirt, a brief moment of self-consciousness following. He knows he’s got a little bit of a softer stomach, no six-pack like Benny, and his hairless chest might be a little less manly than he wished, but when her eyes widen and her tongue comes out to lick her lips the thrill returns.

“Knew there was a tasty fucking body under there,” she teases, fingers tapping against his belt buckle. “I bet when you’re on top you make all the girls feel small under you. Those broad fucking shoulders. Can’t wait to get my legs over them.” Frankie’s cock slams to attention at her filthy mouth, taking a moment to palm himself while he settles on his knees at the foot of the bed. If he does this often enough, he’s going to have to bring a pillow with him. Or a chair.

“I’d never keep you waiting,” he shoots back, testing the banter. To his delight her eyes darken, lifting her hips as he eases her shorts and panties down her legs. Her glistening folds make his mouth water, and when he pulls her down the bed to his waiting face her thighs shake under his capable hands.

“Relax, sweetheart. You said you were gonna keep an eye out for what I’m good at?” he says, innocence written across his face. She quirks a brow and nods. “Perfect, because I am very good at this.”

She might have been preparing for a scoff, or a witty comeback, but when he lowers his mouth to her pussy and licks a wide stripe over her throbbing clit all he can hear is her garbled groan as he begins learning her cunt in earnest. Circling her clit with the tip of his tongue makes her hips rock. Sliding down to her entrance with slow-steady strokes arches her back generously. Teasing just at her hole eases her back into steadier breathing, but breaching it makes her whole body shudder. Every movement, every reaction he gets from his oral onslaught he files away, content with taking his time to map out everything that makes her thrash and sigh.

“You are good at this,” she gasps out, locking eyes as he looks up at her from where his face is buried in her folds. “Holy shit, you look so fucking hot like that,” she stutters out, his smile pressing into her cunt. 

“Love doing this, s’my favorite part,” he garbles into her flesh, wrapping his lips delicately around her clit and pulling soft suction into his mouth. She cries out, fingers tightening in his hair as a chanted, “Oh god, oh fuck, fuck Frankie, I’m gonna, holy shit I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” tumbles from her lips. He keeps it up for a moment more before releasing, her breaths coming out in ragged sobs.

“Would you like to come, beautiful girl?” Frankie murmurs, hands stroking soothingly along her bare thighs. She laughs briefly before reaching down to stroke his sticky lower lip.

“Show me what you can do, big boy,” she challenges, and the glint in his eye is her final warning before he sets to his task. Long, firm strokes from her hole to just below her clit work her up, her hips rocking in time with his pace. He pulls her closer, legs draped over his shoulders as he bobs his head, eyes flashing up to catch her blissed-out face before she tips back into the pillows. When a whine grows in her throat he switches to tight circles on her clit, alternating directions and interrupting with quick flicks to keep her keening and arching into his mouth. 

“Frankie, please,” she begs hoarsely. He was never good at edging, always wanting his partners to cum now and cum over and over again. So with his mouth sealed around her clit he sucks and works his tongue over her tight little bud as her hands scrabble for purchase on the bed, his tousled head, the sheet he hears creak in her fists. When her body feels as tight as a bowstring he releases the pressure just enough that when he flicks over her clit she’s helpless to stop it. Her orgasm rushes through, thighs clenching hard around his ears, hips bucking hard enough he has to pin them down, and breathy shouts shooting right to his throbbing cock. If he could cum from this he would. If he had a hand down his pants right now he definitely would. But instead he slows his strokes, enveloping her slick folds with his hot mouth as she weakly releases his head and flops back to the mattress.

“Holy shit, Frankie, that was…yeah, I’d fucking pay for that,’” she gasps, his chuckle dark and deep against her core.

“Nah, that’s standard good fucking. What you’ll pay for is that I’m going to do it again,” Frankie says, and he almost can’t recognize the confidence in his voice. It’s making his skin crackle with excitement as he strokes a finger through her sopping cunt, savoring her scent in his mustache.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, handsome,” Lily says, propping up on her elbows to look at him between her thighs. “Sometimes less is…way fucking more than most girls are used to.”

Frankie lets a lopsided grin dance onto his face, enjoying how her own expression falters.

“You don’t think I can do it?” he purrs, shallowly breaching her with his fingertip. “Haven’t even tried to get your g-spot yet. Give me a chance to make you cum on my face again, and I’ll fuck you in any position you like. Even the challenging ones.” Lily contemplates his offer, carding his curls back from his face. He likes the way she plays with his hair. He’ll have to encourage that.

“Even the positions where I fuck you, big boy? I’ve got loads of toys for that.” 

Frankie flushes deeply at that, face blazing hot as she laughs at his sudden turn.

“Teasing, only teasing. Though you shouldn’t knock it. I could make you see stars, baby.”

Frankie coughs and tries to get back into the moment, shaking his head.

“Maybe when I’m a little more experienced,” he acquiesces. It’s a little white lie. He wouldn’t be able to let someone make him that vulnerable for a handful of dollars. That’s something he’d only consider with someone he trusted deeply, and cared for just as much.

“Fair enough. Let’s see what you got,” she says, leaning back and propping some pillows behind her back. A wicked smile crawls onto Frankie’s face.

“I’ll give you my best, sweetheart.”

Frankie’s specialty is the second orgasm. The first is long, languid, learning. The second one has a pace all its own, both in the buildup and the payoff. He can’t go right back to torturing her overstimulated clit, or pumping his fingers into her, no matter how hard the idea makes him. Instead he drapes his arm over her waist, spreads one of his hands over her thigh, and lays heady kisses along her stomach. Her muscles twitch at the scratch of his beard, the teasing nips of his teeth, the self-conscious giggles he earns when he tongues a particularly sensitive spot. He lets his hands roam, kneading at her thighs, skimming his fingers up to splay across her chest. Their span is exciting to most, eyes widening when they see how far his thumb and pinky can reach. He basks in the relaxation of this moment, bringing her down from her height onto the pillowy comfort of his touch. 

“Frankie,” Lily murmurs, sliding her calf along his back. He slides up to kiss the inside of her knee, trailing his mouth down her thigh. “Frankie!” she giggles more urgently, wiggling her hips when he doesn’t speed up his movements.

“Impatient?” he hums into her skin, but he lets his fingertips dance closer to her core. “Thought you were going to let me try.”

“Didn’t realize you were going to take all afternoon for the second one,” she quips back. Mischief flashes in Frankie’s eyes, and he crawls up her body to ghost his lips over her earlobe.

“Are you turned on yet?” he whispers, testing a deeper bedroom voice. To his delight she writhes under him, fingernails lightly scraping up his back. He slides a hand down to cup her pussy, sliding one finger through her folds. “Mmm, yes you are,” he sighs, scraping his teeth behind her ear to elicit a shaky breath. Coating his finger in her slick, he slides inside as she takes in a shaky breath.

“Good?” he asks, holding still with his middle finger buried inside her slick heat.

“Yeah, fuck, Frankie, please,” she gasps, rocking her hips against his hand. A triumphant smile hides against her neck as he drags his finger out, then buries it back inside her. After a few careful strokes he finds a spot that arches her back, a quiet “fuck” escaping her lips.

“Oh yeah, there it is,” he coos, swirling the tip of his finger over it. Her nails bite into his shoulderblades, the pressure of his jeans against his cock almost unbearable but he’s so focused he pushes it to the side. “Can you take another one?” Lily nods quickly before he slicks his ring finger and slides both inside.

“Shit, Frankie, I don’t even really like fingering but this…” she says, pulling him down to settle more of his bulk on her. He draws one knee up to plant under her thigh, but lets his broad frame press her deeper into the mattress. His unoccupied hand slides under her neck, holding her while he dives in to kiss her deeply, sensually, in time with his methodical strokes. When her hips start moving in time he breaks the kiss, shuffling back down the bed.

“Gonna cum again?” he asks, only allowing a hint of smugness into his voice. Lily laughs breathlessly.

“Yeah, if you put your mouth on me I just might,” she teases.

“Yes ma’am,” Frankie says back before lapping fervently at her neglected clit. The warm passes of his tongue stiffen her back, thin moans growing into cries as he finds the pattern that drives all thought from her mind. Slick with sweat, her body roils under Frankie’s careful ministrations. When his knuckles pull too much at her sucking grip he spits on where they’re joined, licking where she’s stretched around him.

“Frankie, holy fuck, don’t…don’t stop…” she stammers, hands back in his hair as he rubs roughly against her g-spot and messily tongues her, audibly moaning to vibrate her clit and tighten her nipples. He wants to palm one pretty tit while he’s eating her out but she’s so close he can’t help himself. He clamps his hand down on his protesting cock as he swipes his tongue hard and fast, thrusting his fingers deep and devastating. Pride surges in his chest when her hips lock hard, bowing her off the bed as she wails. His hands fly to support her, holding her firmly against his mouth as he plunges his tongue into her spasming cunt and circles his nose on her clit. She thrashes against him but he holds steady, eyes burning up her body so when she finally opens her own she can see the raw need heating his face. His cock jumps again when her eyes roll back and another, softer pattern of pulses wrap around his tongue. 

Again, he thinks with wonder, she came again just looking at me.

When her body unlocks, trembling instead, he lowers her down to the bed, soothing his hands along her skin as he swallows down her second release. Her breaths are ragged, sending him to search for a glass of water for both their parched throats.

When he returns she’s positively wrecked, limbs weakly spread on the bed. Her head lifts and she blearily takes the water, letting Frankie hover at her side until she places the glass down on the bedside table. The silence stretches until she finally speaks.

“Holy fuck, Frankie, not only are women gonna pay for that, they’re gonna pay double,” she says, making Frankie’s shoulders shake with quiet laughter. “I’m serious, I don’t think I’ve ever had my pussy eaten that good. Who the hell taught you that?”

Frankie’s eyes go soft in memory.

“I had a girlfriend when I was a lot younger. It was both of our first times, and she’d never…she was all stressed out about cumming. Repressed upbringing, you know. I didn’t want to pressure her to do anything if she didn’t know what felt good. I’d been jacking it for a while before that, I knew what I liked, but she was so nervous. I told her we wouldn’t have sex until I made her cum first.” He strokes a hand absently on Lily’s forearm, her smile soft and kind. “Fingering was too intense, so I tried to eat her out. I was…ah, not good at it. And she wasn’t sure if it felt good, and was self-conscious about how long it took, if I liked it too. It stressed us both out for a while. I finally asked her if I could just try for as long as it takes.” 

“And how long was that?” Lily asked, turning on her side so Frankie’s wandering hand could stroke along her hip.

“About an hour. Took my time watching her body, seeing what she liked. Combining things, doing some things longer, more intensely. When she came I almost fucking passed out, I got so turned. And then, when she calmed down a little bit…I did it again. And again.”

“And now you’re a fucking god at it,” Lily concludes, wiggling her hips when Frankie takes a careful handful.

“I like doing it. Like the taste, how you smell, how responsive you are. It’s intimate, special. If someone puts their mouth, they want you to feel good. I like the intensity of that.” 

“Well I’ll definitely put that in your recommendation. But we should also take care of the final bit of business before we call our session complete.” Frankie’s eyebrows shoot up when Lily’s hand grazes his thigh, palming his neglected erection. “Hiding something big in here, are we Frankie?”

The confidence radiating off of Frankie dissipates a fraction, the earlier apprehension creeping back on his face.

“I- I know it can be a lot. I’ll go slow, we can take our time,” he stammers, backing off a bit to give Lily room. She smirks at him, sitting up and swinging her leg over Frankie’s lap to cage him in.

“Well, we’ll have to work on your delivery there. You say it like it’s a death sentence,” she giggles, and the tension eases enough for Frankie’s shoulders to lower. Her fingers glide along Frankie’s skin, skimming across his plush chest. “Say it like it’s the sexiest thing,” she challenges, leaning back to see what Frankie does. He ponders for a moment, then unbuttons and unzips his jeans to hang loosely around his hips. The dark boxers he’s got on underneath stretch across the soft V of his hips. 

When Frankie looks back up at her, his eyes are dark as sin with a smile to match. Crawling up her body, he gently takes her wrist and guides her inside his pants. Urging her fingers to  wrap around his girthy cock, he whispers in her ear.

“I know it can be a lot,” he purrs, apprehension swapped for smooth confidence. “I’ll go slow. Take my time.” With each new suggestion he rolls his hips into her grip, hot breath ghosting down her cheek. 

“That’s more like it,” she replies, an appreciative hum rumbling out of Frankie’s chest. Covering her with his body, he slides his jeans the rest of the way off, fitted boxer briefs generously tented. 

“Condoms?” he asks, her hand stretching out to tap at the bedside table. He shuffles in the drawer before pulling one out along with a bottle of lube.

“Probably a good idea to bring one of these with me?” he asks, half to himself. Lily plucks it from his hand and places it back on the nightstand.

“I’m plenty wet enough for you, big boy. But yes, always condoms and lube wouldn’t hurt. Better to be prepared,” she says, spreading her thighs to invite Frankie in. Rolling on the condom, he returns to the cradle of her hips, fisting his aching cock to tap against her clit. She arches, a delightful smile painting her face.

“Can’t wait to feel you stretch me,” she whispers.

“Fuck,” he gasps back, dragging the underside of his cock through her folds. “Shit, you feel good. How…how do you want me?”

“Any way you want, baby,” she purrs back, the plump head of his cock pressing at her entrance. 

Frankie enters her slowly, inch by blissful inch. Some of it is care; he’s watched the pinched expressions of women not used to taking a cock as thick and hefty as his, and he’s highly attuned to discomfort. If he catches it he drags back out, slow as syrup before pushing forward again into her blinding heat. Lily takes him so well he has to slow himself down, his mounting arousal pulling him too close to the edge. She’s moaning softly below him, fingers digging into his hips as he presses flush against her.

“Fuck, Frankie, you’re filling me up so good,” Lily moans, lifting her hips to grind on his buried cock. 

“You feel amazing. Fuck, yes, so goddamn good. I want to fuck you like this first, then make you cum on me again. Shiiiiit.” Frankie’s groans are positively filthy as he takes his first slick stroke into her cunt, the flutters of her walls around him pooling liquid metal in the base of his spine. Firming up his stance, he rolls his hips into hers, long languid strokes that speak to his stamina and patience. If her moans were filthy before, they’re downright crude now.

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuckFrankieeeee,” she whines, hands scrabbling along his shoulders and hair as he mouths at her pebbled nipples and palms her overheated flesh. When he’s wet with her slick, sweat sliding down his smooth skin, he slips two fingers between them to circle her clit, fast slippery circles making her quake around him.

“Oh please keep doing that, Frankie, fuck…” she whines, and Frankie’s teeth find the sensitive spot under her ear that makes her hair stand on end.

“Gonna fuck you so good you’ll be gushing around my cock, then I’m gonna pound you from behind until you strangle me again. Gonna be so deep inside you you won’t be able to think about anything else but cumming. C’mon, gorgeous, cum on my fat cock.” Frankie can barely register where the words spilling from his gasping lips are coming from, but they certainly land like sizzling oil on her skin. Eyes screwed shut, lips parted in a silent cry, her rhythm gets messier as Frankie brushes his cock over and over her g-spot, deadly accuracy in every thrust. With a few more targeted circles over her clit she bursts, legs clamped viciously around his waist as he grinds into her spasming cunt. The pressure rockets his orgasm close to the surface, his balls tightening up as wetness coats them further, but he thinks about baseball and those smoking commercials he hates and the crest ebbs back to a manageable pace. 

Once her legs unlock Frankie kisses her again, firm and exacting while she’s still on cloud nine. Humming into his mouth she strokes his scruffy cheeks, the sensation tingling up his spine. 

“Want you to cum, Frankie,” Lily whispers against his mouth, and the desire roars up inside his chest. With efficient strength he flips her, lifting her hips to meet his own, and slides back into her sopping cunt. “Oh fuck, Frankie, you feel ever bigger like this,” she chokes out, back arching as he takes one experimental thrust into her. She keens under his large hands, shuddering at the press of his mouth on her spine when he folds over to kiss her again.

“Gonna fuck you good and hard now, pretty girl. You’re gonna make me bust with this sweet fucking pussy,” he pants, admiring her round ass and sweet little hole. He presses his thumb lightly against it, earning a garbled sound of pleasure. 

“Please, Frankie,” she moans, and he could never deny her the pleasure he’s brimming to give. 

The first snap of his hips drive her face-down into the mattress, and the subsequent pounding buries her fingers in the sheets. Every snap of his hips to her thighs, his balls slapping against her clit, drives him even more wild, babbling to her about how fucking good her pussy is, how he’s gonna maker her cum on his big cock over and over again. She throatily agrees, backing up against his thrusts to drive him deeper, harder into the spot that will make her cum again. Frankie’s lips peel back from his teeth, throwing back his head to growl and gasp as he rails her into the bed, his orgasm just moments from toppling him over into his denied bliss.

“Cum with me, baby,” he orders, wrapping his arm around her waist to palm her dripping cunt. The heel of his hand combined with the smack of his hips rocks her clit over his palm, and that stimulation throws her off into the deep end of her fourth orgasm. This time her cunt is too tight, too fucking good to stop him from cumming, shouts devolving into ragged whimpers and sweet reassurances as they both come down from their highs.

Frankie eases Lily to the bed, stroking her sweaty hair out of her face and placing a chaste kiss on her temple. He disposes of the condom in the bathroom, taking a moment to check himself in the mirror. He’s flushed and rumpled, his hair an absolute mess, but damn if he’s not glowing as well. He runs the tap and slicks damp fingers through his hair, returning just in time to catch Lily downing the rest of her water.

“Frankie, baby, you are going to have a great career if you can pull that routine even once a week.” His scoff brings her hands up to scold. “I’m serious! You like making people feel good. I can definitely see this working out for you.” 

Frankie’s blush radiates from his cheeks to his chest, coming to sit beside Lily on the bed.

“I’m glad you had a good time,” he says. His fingers come to rest on her forearm. “What should I do for aftercare? I normally get some water, cuddle, help clean them up. Should I be doing something different?”

Lily gives him an approving smile.

“It’ll probably be a bit shorter than what you’re used to, but yes to all. Some girls may not want it, others may want more. So keep your eye on the clock and give them as much as you can. Believe me, they’ll get more out of that than the sex itself.”

Frankie nods, deep brown eyes coming to hers again.

“Which one are you? Aftercare or no?”

Lily leans back, settling into the pillows again.

“I could take a little cuddle before you go.”

Frankie ducks his head to hide his shy smile, tucking her into his side so he can stroke soothing paths up her side, weaving his hands into her hair and kneading at the back of her neck. 

“I had fun,” Frankie finally says, staring at the ceiling and chewing the inside of his cheek. “I wasn’t sure what I was walking into, but it was a lot of fun.” 

“It should be if you’re doing it right,” Lily quips, running her hand over his chest and twirling her fingers into his loose curls splayed against the pillow. 

“I can last longer than that, you know,” he murmurs, nosing into her hair when she lets out a breathy giggle.

“You lasted plenty long enough, big boy.”

“Well, I have my ways just in case,” he says mysteriously. Lily’s hand slows on his chest, her body hovering on a question, but it passes. Instead she lifts up to press a sweet kiss to Frankie’s lips.

“Now I’ll show you how to leave graciously.”

“So how did he do?”

Lily lounges on her couch, phone to her ear as Pope’s voice filters through.

“I gotta hand it to you, Santi, you only fraternize with men who are very competent at fucking.”

“Ha ha, Lils, but really? Frankie’s cut out for it?”

Lily pauses, the itch under her fingernails growing louder.

“Definitely has the right temperament, the right attitude. His confidence could use a little work, but he got into the swing of things. Eats pussy like a fucking god, and knows how to use that big cock of his…”

“Jesus Lil, a yes or know would have sufficed.”

Lily laughs into the phone. Riling up Santi is a rare treat.

“He’s a boyfriend experience guy, so I’d steer him to clients looking for that. He’ll make them feel like they’re his whole world for the hour. And he’ll make bank doing it.”

“Any concerns?”

Lily’s hands flex briefly.

“Has he ever had an issue with substances?”

The silence on the other end answers her question, but she still waits for Santi.

“Not in a while. So he’s told me.”

“What was it?”

Another pause, then a sigh.

“Coke.”

The word sinks deep into her stomach.

“You know I don’t fuck with that shit, Santi. Not after Colombia.”

“He’s not using.”

“Maybe not, or maybe not a lot. But if he’s got a proclivity to it…keep an eye on him, Santi.”

“I will. Thanks Lils.”

She lets her breath out, lightening the conversation.

“You gonna call him Catfish?”

“He told you that?”

“Could be a good play on words.”

“Ugh.”

“Swimming in pussy?”

“That’s awful.”

“Doesn’t need to breathe. Certainly didn’t feel like it after the second one.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Bye Santi, te amo.”

Santi chuckles at the saccharine endearment as he hangs up. With approval from Lily he’ll start giving Frankie work. Her warning echoes in his ears, his own apprehensions mixing with it. They all had their demons to face, but Frankie chose a path that worried his friends. Santi would have to keep an eye on him, keep Frankie safe and watch out for his clientele. But he trusted his friend, and wanted him not to worry so much when his rent came due.

“Seems like Catfish is on the menu,” he murmurs to himself, snorting at the unfortunate innuendo. He’d have to share it with Frankie next time he sees him.

END

[pimosworld]

The story of us- Final Chapter

Pairing-Triple Frontier boys x f!reader

Chapter summary-The boys find a way to make your birthday very special.

CW-18+, Angst,Fluff,lots of fluff, tears but happy tears.

WK-5k

A/N- This is my first completed series so I’m very proud of myself for that accomplishment. I’m not saying goodbye to this group so please be on the lookout for future stories involving them as their relationship progresses. Thanks for sticking around 🤍 all of you.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Final chapter-It’s my party

“Come in officers.” You don’t skip a beat as you move aside to let the two men enter your home. Your training won’t allow you to let on that your heart is beating a mile a minute.

  You gesture them over to your dining room table to have a seat. Of course the couch feels more personal and you don’t want them to be comfortable. The more comfortable they are, the longer they’ll stay. You want to be able to sit with your nervous legs concealed under a table versus on display for them to judge your movements. 

  They likely know as much as they can about you. Your military background and a basic knowledge of your schooling and home life. What they likely don’t know is you are no basic militant soldier and you’ve had them clocked since they stepped through the threshold of your home. 

  Any form of torture or interrogation you’ve been through will make this look like child’s play. 

  You have a seat at the head of the table facing the door. Not offering them something to drink was another tactic in making sure they were uncomfortable enough to make this quick. 

  “We just want to ask you a few questions regarding your boyfriend Michael’s disappearance.”

  “Ex.” The officer who couldn’t keep his eyes away from the low cut neckline of your tank top looks up at you finally. “Sorry to interrupt but we broke up weeks ago.” 

  “Well that would explain why one of his coworkers reported him missing and not you.” Officer Williams seems to be offering up information you don’t necessarily need but could definitely be used to your benefit. “She seemed to be under the impression you two were still together.” 

  “We got into a pretty big argument and I asked him to leave. He hadn’t been acting himself lately and he didn’t really react well to my questioning his odd behavior.” You hold his eye contact as he waits for you to continue. “I have a box of his things that he never came to get if you want to take a look.” 

  He perks up at that and you stand to head out of the kitchen towards your bedroom. You don’t miss the way the other officer watches you walk clearly not having any sense of decorum about him. 

  You linger in the hallway a moment listening to their hushed voices. “She doesn’t know anything, let's just go.” 

  “I know but I need to go through the routine.” He says through gritted teeth. 

  Your leaving gave you a moment to breathe and come up with some idea of what you were going to say when they inevitably brought up the boys. 

  You set the box down in front of the shorter officer and he goes for it like a kid being handed a toy to keep himself busy. Leaving you with the one who had some semblance of professionalism. 

  He tilts his head towards the ornate bouquets on your countertop. “Those all for you? You must be a lucky woman.” 

  “Oh my friends spoil me, they dropped those off earlier.” Not entirely a lie.

  “What’s the occasion if you don’t mind me asking?” I do mind actually.

  “It’s my birthday in a few days.” The mention of your birthday makes you wonder if you would even be able to see them or know what’s going on. 

  The other officer seems bored of looking through the box of his random assortment of clothes and paperwork that he left as he slides it forward. 

  “I don’t really see anything in here but I’d like to take it off your hands if you don’t mind?” You throw your hands up and he tucks the box under his arm as he stands seemingly ready to go. 

  “Well officer Williams and I should be getting out of your hair.” He offers a tight lipped smile at his partner who doesn’t manage to disguise his eye roll from you. 

  You’re torn between acting like you don’t care about his disappearance and not wanting to come off like you care too much about your ex boyfriend. It would be a little suspicious even without evidence that you’re involved that you could care less about someone you spent over six months with. Truthfully you’re relieved. 

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t offer you any more information.” They wave you off in your attempt to sound concerned. 

  “It’s probably for the best since he was involved in some pretty shady business dealings.” The more competent of the two turns around to hand you his card. “I’m sure you’re more than capable of handling yourself, but if anyone comes around here giving you trouble or asking questions about him you give me a call.” His wink suggests something else and now you’ve all but written off these two idiots, who are no doubt on a wild good chase. 

  “Those your delta buddies?” The other officer gestures to their photo on the wall with you strategically placed in the middle. 

  Annoyed at pointing out the obvious but forced to bite back a smart retort. “Yes, that was taken shortly after I joined.” 

  “Well I’m sure you could call on one of them if you run into any trouble.” They chuckled to themselves as they stepped out into your front porch. 

  You have no idea 

  ****

  Will closes the laptop just after you close your front door. He runs his hands through his hair as he stares up at the ceiling, breathing a sigh of relief. It’s done

  Santiago’s idea to purposely leave you in the dark offered you the chance to have a genuine interaction should the cops show up. Which they assumed they would since you were his most recent relationship. 

  Ben’s already left from the table, no doubt to start packing his bags because he knew once the cops left they were going to head home. Ben may have worn his heart on his sleeve but they were all holding on by a thread not being able to talk to you or see you in person. 

  The little glimpses of you they got through the camera only served as a means of torture. Watching you do the most menial task in the kitchen while dancing or kicking your feet on the couch when the book your reading gets interesting. They want to be there for those things everyday. 

  Someday

  The next mission, which they had days to plan out being holed up in the safe house was orchestrating your birthday. You always told them not to make a big deal about it. Just being with you boys is allI want. 

  They skated on that for too long. You deserved more for your birthday than the normal hang out at the bar in your usual spot. You are a big deal so they should make you feel like one. Especially if they were going to show you how committed they are. 

  Everyone had their specific tasks tailored to their skill level and you’d be a fool to think each of them weren’t going to treat this like the most important thing they’ve ever done. 

  All doubts about their relationship or what people would think were out the window before they even stepped foot into the safe house. 

  If they were willing to travel to another country and steal a drug lord's money, they could just as easily tell society to fuck off when it comes to you.

  ****

  You haven’t slept that well in a long time. Some may find it odd after being questioned by the police, but Mike being gone puts you at ease. Knowing whatever happened to him was not by accident and whatever they did, it was for you. 

  You were completely ruined for any other man when you stepped foot into their lives. It’s a shame it’s taken you this long to notice because you’ve wasted so much time. 

  Your relationships with each of them over the years have developed into something you can’t live without. You couldn’t put your finger on why your brain wouldn’t allow you to look at any one of them as just a friend. It made things difficult when your lives were on the line so you shoved it down deep somewhere to hide away and never resurface. Until Tom passed away and all those feelings came flooding back and instead of embracing it, you ran head first in the wrong direction. 

  It’s a little sick and twisted but you really have your ex to thank for pushing them back into your life and making all of you open your eyes up to see the most perfect thing was already happening right in front of you. 

  You're thankful you have work to keep you busy today. You know it’s highly likely they’ll be coming home from wherever they are and you don’t want to sit by your phone all day waiting for a call or text. 

  You hop in your shower letting the hot water (scalding) as Frankie would put it cascade over you. Washing the last few weeks away, the steam is opening up your lungs and you feel like you can breathe for the first time in a long time. You nearly choke on it as you hear your phone ping from the counter. Almost breaking your neck and towel rack in the process of jumping out to read your text. 

  Benjamin: I'll be seeing you this week honey

                                          When

Benjamin:😘

  You stand their half naked soaking the mat beneath you as you wait for a response. You look up and see your blurry reflection in the mirror and get a sneaky idea. Your hands brush quickly over the mirror streaking the glass but revealing you just enough. You pull the towel up slightly before you bite your lip and snap a photo. 

  Image 

               Benjamin: Sweetheart you’re killing me. 

                    Benjamin: I’ll see you on Wednesday 

 

  ****

  Wednesday couldn’t come soon enough. Thankfully you weren’t assigned to the ER today so you had time to rush home and shower, unsure of when Ben would be showing up or if he was planning on staying.

  You put on your  favorite leggings that hugged your curves perfectly and your old army tee shirt. After giving yourself a once over in front of the floor length mirror you dabbed on some new perfume that you treated yourself to for your birthday. 

  The doorbell rings and you try not to sprint to the door as you shuffle through your hallway, taking a slow deep breath before opening it.

  Your legs nearly buckle at the sight of Ben on your porch, looking the most nervous you’ve ever seen him. He’s shakily holding a piece of canvas paper in his hands as he sways back and forth. He has a blue polo on to match his eyes and a pair of tan slacks. His hair is combed back out of his face and he looks so handsome you could cry. 

  “I missed you.” He breathes out like it’s the first time his lungs have had air in weeks. 

  You can’t help yourself when you launch into his arms and he clings to you like his life depends on it. 

It feels like an eternity as you stand on your front porch just holding him, breathing in his scent. A new cologne you don’t recognize that washes over you. 

  “Oh shit the paper.” He reluctantly lets you go to smooth out the paper he dropped on the ground as you try to glance at it and he holds it back from you with a wink. 

  “What’s that?” You gesture towards it as he skims it over again like he’s reciting lines. 

  “It’s an itinerary.” He smiles at you then and your heart can’t take how much you’ve truly missed him. 

  You step aside awkwardly to let him in but he doesn’t move from his spot on the porch. “Are you coming in?” 

  “I’m not supposed to.” He sounds a little defeated as he says it which causes even more confusion for you. “Read the itinerary and leave…”

  “Oh so you’re here on strict orders?” You’re hoping the teasing will ease some of this tension. “So read it to me.” You step further into the house far enough away that he would have to follow. 

  “You think you’re slick?” You nod your head as you sit down on the couch with your legs tucked under you. 

  He mumbles something under his breath about getting in trouble as he sits next to you. “There will be a special delivery here, when you get off work tomorrow.” 

  “What..”

  “Obviously I can’t tell you what it is or that would ruin the surprise. Just be here to sign for it at 7.” He shifts a little on the couch so he’s facing you. 

  “Friday Maria is taking you to do some kind of spa day.” His emphasis on spa has you laughing. 

  Santiago’s sister Maria was always your number one fan. She was the woman you could confide in when you were constantly surrounded by men who just didn’t understand. You know she always secretly hoped you’d end up with Santi but you’re sure she has no idea what’s actually going on. She just recently moved closer to Santi after her divorce and you feel a little guilty for not having reached out sooner. You didn’t want to burden her with your own issues when she was just getting her life back together.

  “Saturday at seven a limo will arrive to pick you up and take you to a separate location for dinner.” He sets the paper face down on the coffee table and smooths his hands along his slacks. 

  “Ben, the first rule of kidnapping is never let them take you to a second location.” 

  “Don’t worry sweetheart, you can trust the driver.” He winks at you again and if he doesn’t stop you're going to have to glue his eye shut. 

  “So…I guess you have to go now right?” 

  “Ya…I should go.” Ben doesn’t move as he watches you fidget with a run on the couch thread. 

  His hand reaches out to still your movements and you finally look at him. It’s been so long since he took you on that date and by the way you’re looking at him it would be so easy to just walk you down your hallway. To the bedroom he’s been in so many times to simply sleep. He could cave like Santiago and you would let him. 

  He leans in, pressing you back against the headrest of the couch. His face is just inches from yours as you close your eyes. His fingers trace the outline of your bottom lip and then trail down your neck as he cups the back of your head and finally presses his lips to yours. It’s soft and slow, like you're just breathing each other in. He tastes like mint with a hint of your cherry lip balm that you left in his car ages ago. 

  He pulls away reluctantly and rests his forehead against yours. “I promise after Saturday, we won’t have to keep stopping this short.” 

  You groaned under your breath. “I don’t know what that means.” 

  He kisses your forehead and stands from the couch, pulling you with him. Without your shoes on it feels like he towers over you. You wrap your arms around him one last time, burying your face in his chest. 

  “You’ll know what it means soon enough hon’.”

  ****

  Texting the boys to find out what your special delivery was of course yielded no results. You resigned yourself to guessing throughout your work day as to what it might be. 

  Your house couldn’t possibly hold any more flower arrangements and you don’t think they would get you a pet. Or would they? You don’t think they would do something that rash for your birthday, but then again Mike was nowhere to be found and that wasn’t of his own doing. 

  You make it home just in time to make yourself a quick dinner, grilled cheese and tomato soup one of your favorites. You’re hardly paying attention to the show you put on when the doorbell rings. You bolt up from the couch and open the door hoping to see one of the boys. 

  A beautiful woman in a crisp black suit is standing next to a rack with black garment bags lined along it. 

  You look down briefly at your shorts and oversized shirt. You’re two for two opening the door to some very well dressed individuals, while in your lounge clothes. 

  I have a delivery, I’ll need you to sign off as she says your name. She hands you a small pad to sign and you politely step aside as she wheels it into your home. 

  “Is there anywhere in particular you’d like me to place this?” 

  “There is fine, thank you.” You haven’t torn your eyes from the rack as you try to decipher what’s inside.

  She offers you a courteous smile as she exits through the front door. You stand there briefly as you watch her walk to a sleek black delivery van and drive away. 

  You slam the door and push the rack to your bedroom so fast you almost knock it over. It’s safe to assume it’s clothing so you strip down to your panties and fish your nice bra out of your top dresser drawer. 

  The sound of the zipper and rustling fabric is all you can hear over the sound of your rapid breaths. Your hands are shaking with excitement as you open the first bag to reveal a navy blue satin dress. You take it off the hanger and notice the intricate straps on the back, opting to forgo those and just step into it. 

  You pull the thin straps over your shoulder as you look at yourself in the large mirror in your bedroom. It’s been a while since you got really dressed up, and despite your unkempt hair and no makeup you feel so beautiful in it. 

  You smooth your hands down the silky fabric and straighten up a little. 

  You look good

  Your excitement starts to build as you quickly realize you have several more items to try on. You delicately extract yourself from this dress so as to not damage it. There’s one way you get to keep all of these so you need to treat them very carefully until you decide what you’re wearing. 

  The next dress is a burnt orange color with a velvety smooth fabric. You brush your thumb across it reveling in the way it feels, knowing how good it will feel in your skin. 

  It is decidedly less difficult than the first and stretchy enough that you can pull it over your head. It has thicker straps and a slit going up your left thigh. The first dress was beautiful but this is leading so far. 

  You set his dress on the hanger and put it in your closet before moving on to the next. 

  The next is a bright yellow strapless dress. The fabric is chiffon and it’s so far the most revealing thing you could possibly own. It’s stunning when you pull it out but you’re also wondering how exactly you're going to zip this. It’s sort of origami on the top and has a train which you love. 

  You zip it as far as you can by yourself and even with it slightly agape in the back the boning in the bodice is cinching you in. You round your shoulders back with your hands on your hips as you marvel at the image before you. Part of you wanted to take a picture of each one and send it but now you’re certain they want this to be a surprise. 

  If picking the best of four was going to be your future you were going to have to get really good at making diplomatic decisions. 

  The final garment bag has a note attached to the top. 

  We know you’ll look beautiful in any of these but please pick your favorite to wear on your birthday. Don’t be worried about the weather or being in front of a crowd when making your decision. 

  As if they could read your mind. They know you might think twice about wearing a few of them in public and the humidity at times could be unbearable even with nothing on.

  They are all yours to keep. Happy Birthday Honey. 

  You feverishly wipe your eyes and set the note down on your bed. 

  The final garment bag reveals a sparkling red dress. You walk backwards as you pull it out and the layers of fabric trail behind it. You hold it up to your chest in the mirror and try your best to compose yourself. It’s all so overwhelming and exhilarating all at once. 

  You're careful with the straps as you step into the dress. They might as well be non-existent with how thin they are. The sweetheart neckline is doing wonders for your chest and the silhouette billows out into an A line skirt. You do a twirl in the mirror as the fabric rustles the ground. You feel like a princess in this dress and you find yourself staring for far longer than you want to. 

  You glance around looking for your phone, remembering you left it in the living room. You traipse through the house in your dress and find it sitting on the arm of the couch. It’s been over an hour. A text from Santi not long ago is your only notification. 

  Santiago: What ya doing cariño 

  You type out a quick reply and wait until you see those three dots. 

                          Playing dress up

  Santiago: How is it going

                            Very well

  Santiago: Which one are you wearing now

                            You know I can’t tell you

  Santiago: It’s the red one

                            Goodnight Santiago

  Santiago: Goodnight cariño 

  ****

  You're nervously pacing your living room, waiting for Maria to arrive. You haven’t seen her since the wedding and that marriage fell apart faster than it was conceived. You’re embarrassed that you haven’t reached out to see how she’s doing but Colombia happened around the same time and you both took a step back. Days turned into weeks turned into months and neither of you knew where to pick up again. 

  Your doorbell rings ripping you from your thoughts as you take a deep breath for the third time this week and answer the door. 

  Her back is to you, admiring the flowers on your trellis when you open the door. She turns to you with that same blank expression that Santiago has all but perfected. The tears brimming her eyes give way to the demeanor she’s clinging to. 

  Much like Santiago it doesn’t take much for her to break as she steps forward and pulls you into her arms. You can hardly understand each other as you mumble apologies through tears and a little bit of her hair is in your mouth as you cling to her. It’s sloppy and messy and you love it. You missed her so much and the relief washes over you at the realization that she missed you just as much. 

  “I think we both need this today.” She leans back and frames your face with her hands, wiping your tears with her thumbs. “Are you ready to be pampered?” 

  You nod, still too overwhelmed to speak without choking back tears. 

  “Okay Honey let’s go.”

  ****

  You’re thankful they booked you a couples massage. The thought of being alone right now after spending such a great day with your friend was paralyzing. 

  She had a lot of questions for you about your life over the last few years. You didn’t have a lot of answers for her but you did your best to put her at ease. 

  You're lying side by side on separate tables as two strangers try to rub years of stress and worry out of your sore muscles. It’s comfortably quiet for some time as you take in the tranquil white noise and smell the lavender and eucalyptus in the room. 

  “I’m glad you guys finally figured it out.” Her voice is slightly muffled with her head down on the massage table. You don’t know if she’s referring to Santi or if she even knows half of what’s going on. “I just have one question for you.” 

  “Sure…ask me anything.” 

  “Do you know what you’re doing?” You think for a moment at the weight of her question. You turn your head on its side so she can hear you clearly before answering. 

  “Not a clue.” 

  She turns her head to you and smiles. “Good…people who know what they’re doing scare me.” 

  You both laugh and she reaches out to lock her finger with yours as they dangle between the two tables. 

  ****

  You stare at yourself for the second time this week in this beautiful dress. It was perfect for whatever tonight had in store. 

  It’s five till and you're anxiously awaiting your ride as you stand by the door placing the strappy heels on your feet. 

  For the first time all week, you hear a light knock instead of the doorbell. When you open it you’re met with Frankie dressed in a tight black button down and black slacks. His hair is on display which you assume has some kind of product or gel. His brown curls frame his face perfectly as he smiles down at you. 

  He leans in, placing a kiss on your cheek. “You look…beautiful.”

  “You don’t look too bad yourself Morales.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment even though you didn’t pick my dress.” He takes your hand as you  step out onto the front porch. You turn around but he’s already got his spare key in hand, locking up behind you. 

  “You’ll just have to take me somewhere I can wear it.” 

  “That can be arranged.” He helps you down the steps as a long black limousine comes into view in front of your driveway. He opens the door for you and helps you slide in before he starts to close it. 

  “What are you doing?” 

  “Someone has to drive hermosa.” He closes the door, shrouding you in darkness until the car starts up and the back seats are lined with soft yellow lights. 

  This is by far the most extravagant display of affection and attention they’ve ever paid to your birthday. Every year you’d spent together you told them you simply just wanted to enjoy their company. 

  It didn’t bother you that you always went a little too hard on their birthdays because that’s how you show love. You think this may be their way of making up for doing just the bare minimum and then some. 

  It’s hard to tell where you're going with the sun having set and the dark tint of the windows. It’s not until you pull up to the airfield where Frankie works that you recognize your surroundings. 

  Coming into view is an open hanger with the boys standing in front. It’s a beautiful sight seeing them all standing there…waiting for you. Santi and Ben are talking to each other as Will stares down at a small piece of paper. 

  Frankie heads over to them before opening your door. Santiago looks at him and grins as he makes his way over. He has the most adoration in his eyes as he opens the door for you. 

  “Fuck…you look beautiful.” 

  He holds his hand out for you as you try to swallow the lump in your throat. Ben lets out a low whistle as you exit the car. You’ve been in hostage situations less nerve wracking than this moment. 

  They lead you to the open hanger and you’re taken aback at the romantic set up. A singular plane in the background.White roses and candles line the table set up for five. 

  “So…how did we do?” Frankie’s deep baritone voice settles into your bones as his hand rests against your back. 

  How do you tell them it’s the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for you? How do you tell them you’ve been waiting for this moment longer than you’d care to admit? 

  You turn to him then as he sees the tears in your eyes. 

  “Please don’t cry.” 

  “Don’t worry they’re happy tears.” You laugh as he wipes your cheeks. 

  Frankie pulls up a chair behind you and you sit as he goes to stand by the other three. 

  Will digs into his pocket and pulls out the piece of paper he was reading when you arrived. He opens it and folds it back quickly. 

  “I was going to read some things we all wrote down, but it doesn’t sound right anymore.” He pauses briefly as the others stare in confusion. “I’m sick of listing out reasons why this works. I can’t explain in words how I feel…how we feel about you.”

  “You’re doing great.” The sarcasm dripping from Benny’s voice has you chuckle. 

  You’re glad Will seems just as nervous as you are. He was always the one who had a way with words and now here he is unable to form a coherent thought. 

  “All I’m saying is, we want you to give whatever this is between us a chance. Life feels so much better with you in it everyday.”

  You can hear yourself saying yes before he even finishes what he’s said.

  “Did you expect me to say anything other than yes.” 

  “I don’t know sweetheart, I’ve never done anything like this before.” Ben claps his brother on the shoulder as they all surround you. 

  “So…what do we do now?” 

  Santi leans in and kisses your cheek. 

  “We have our first date.” 

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[joelswritingmistress]

Oh Captain, My Captain: Chapter 4

Chapter Summary: After reliving your unexpected first kiss, you agree to meet Joel again for another boat ride. While you're trying to remain level-headed, your hormones are in overdrive as you wonder where things are headed between you.

Joel x f!reader

The kiss was innocent enough. Closed mouth, a peck that lingered with eyes pressed shut. You could taste the Narragansett beer he'd be drinking down at the beach. But sparks went off like fireworks inside of you.

When you pulled back and opened your eyes, Joel's lips, his luscious lips, twisted into a smirk. His eyes, playful and kind, lingered on yours.

"Goodnight," you spoke with a smile of your own and glowing, hot cheeks.

"Goodnight."

"Will you be okay to get home?" The question felt silly but you couldn't help but ask. It made him chuckle.

"I'll be fine."

"Okay." You nodded and realized he was leaning back in.

"Okay," he echoed, closing his eyes again as he planted a second kiss on your lips.

You didn't want to part from him. Never in your life had you wanted to jump someone's bones so badly right after you met them. You'd never had a one night stand or slept with a guy right away, it just wasn't your style. But Joel. Joel would have been an exception to every silly little rule you'd penned in your imaginary rule book. You didn't want a one night stand. You wanted a one-hundred night stand - or more.

Calm the fuck down, you told yourself.

"Six o'clock tomorrow night?" He asked, still lingering close to your lips.

You swallowed hard. "Six o'clock."

"I gotta leave the dock then so don't be late." He smirked with another wink that made you swoon.

"I won't be late."

You hadn't realized your fingers were entwined with his until his hand parted from yours. You managed a deep breath, said your goodnights again and then headed upstairs.

...

"Taking the boat out to Block Island today," your Uncle Mark explained as he sipped on a fruity drink beside you on the beach. "Any interest?" He smoothed out his graying mustache.

You couldn't risk being late to meet Joel, but you pretended like you were thinking about it. "I might do a little shopping out here tonight."

"No problem. You kids are getting too old to hang out with the old dudes, anyway." He gave a laugh. "To be honest I miss being young and hitting the bars. Being able to do shots without feeling it for four days."

You gave a laugh. "My shot taking days are ending. Some beers and maybe a rum runner or two I can get behind, though."

Uncle Mark laughed and you gave him a fist bump. He was the funniest family member you had, and before you left the beach the two of you snuck in a shot of Fireball he kept in the cooler, just for good measure.

On the walk back from a day in the sun your brother caught up with you. "So, uh, who's the guy?" He teased.

"What?"

"Who's the guy?" He repeated with a smirk. "Late night. You asked me to lie for you. I did. You're not joining us on Uncle Mark's boat."

You chuckled and shook your head.

"I knew it."

"I'm meeting a guy tonight for dinner."

When he started singing the Grease song, Summer Lovin' you laughed and hit him. Sometimes your brother could be okay, despite his cringy antics.

"Thanks for covering for me last night."

"Yeah, yeah. You've had my back before and you always bought me beer before I could buy it myself." He laughed. "Just don't get kidnapped."

"I'll be fine." You smiled.

The vibe of the week had shifted tremendously. You went from being bored and then feeling guilty for being bored to completely alive.

Everyone had gone to Block Island on the boat, and your mother was the most disappointed that you decided to stay. A part of you felt guilty again because you knew she was trying to hold onto the bond you'd always had with her. Your parents weren't bad people, not by a long shot. You were just feeling a need to spread your wings now that you were fully submerged into adulthood.

Speaking of adulthood, you finally felt like you were able to let yourself go - socially and romantically. It was time to explore all avenues of your love life and Joel Miller was in your crosshairs.

You tried to pull off a look that showed you were trying but not too much. You put on some makeup, lip gloss and straightened your hair. You sported a sundress for the boat ride again and some flip flops.

At five-thirty you began the short walk down to the docks and saw the now-familiar boat beginning to approach the dock with a short line of people waiting to take their cruise. The crew from the hour before began to exit the vessel and, as they piled off, the first people in line piled on.

You held your breath. Butterflies were in your stomach and your eyes scanned the boat frantically. The excitement and anxiety wouldn't get back to an even keel until you saw him.

The dock rocked beneath you as you paced toward the boat. You spotted one of Joel's friends from the bar securing a rope from the boat to the dock.

Where is he? Where is he? The phrase peppered in your mind as you neared The Mist of the Sea. Your heart rate climbed and then, as the first passenger went to climb aboard, the captain emerged with a hand extended to help them on.

You swallowed hard. He looked even better than you remembered, sporting the same hat over a T-shirt that hugged his rugged upper body. He smiled genuinely as he helped the passengers aboard.

And then it was your turn. When your eyes met Joel's you noticed his Adam's apple rise and fall in his throat. His lips tightened on the corners at first and then a smile formed, big and bright, on his face.

His warm palm secured your hand to his, and when his fingers wrapped around your hand you felt a hit of infatuation. It was already addicting.

"Welcome aboard," Joel greeted. He grinned, and you smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Thank you, Captain." You allowed him to guide you aboard. Everything felt great in that moment. Perfect, even. You hadn't felt so naturally happy in a long time.

"The view from the top deck is stunning," he said as you headed for the ladder.

"Thanks for the tip." You glanced over your shoulder at him and felt your flirtation was successful as you took the ladder to the top deck.

Others had begun to get seated but you managed to make your way close to the front of the boat to be close to Joel.

He eventually made his way to the top, subtly letting his knee graze yours as he passed. A moment later he was on the boat radio, capturing the crew's attention as he promised a relaxing and informative forty-five minute ride around the island.

You enjoyed the ocean breeze, and of course the view of the captain. But you couldn't wait for whatever came next. Joel was so close, yet so far. After the hours of conversation and the pair of kisses the night before, you couldn't help but crave more. Selfishly, you wanted Captain Joel all to yourself.

He was really in his element. Joel was friendly and energetic. He had people laughing and asking a question here or there. He really was an islander, and you could hear the passion for the place he lived in every little detail he provided. It was dreamy.

I could do this over and over, you thought to yourself.

The forty-five minutes came and went. You tried to soak in as much of the history and little tidbits of the Island that you could. When Joel finally eased the big sea vessel back into its spot by the dock, he thanked everyone for joining and motioned for you to come to the front as the others piled out.

"So, what'd you think?" He asked. "Better the second time around?"

"I'd say you nailed it," you said with a nod, letting your hand drift across the steering wheel. "You got a standing ovation. They seemed to like you."

Joel gave a little grin and motioned to the wheel. "Think you could drive her?"

You huffed a laugh and positioned both hands on the wheel, looking out at the sea. "I'd probably take us to Ireland or something."

Joel laughed lightly and crept in behind you. He placed his hands over yours on the wheel.

You swallowed hard and your pulse quickened when you felt his body gently brush against yours from behind. You were struggling to fight the impulses you wanted so badly to act on. But to be fair, Joel knew exactly what he was doing.

"If I said starboard which side is it?" He asked.

"Um.." your brain was practically shut down and your body was working overtime. You went to move your hands on the wheel to the left but Joel caught you as you did and forced your hands in the other direction.

"Close," he teased. The laugh he let out ricocheted down the side of your neck. It caused you to turn partway to look at him.

For a second or two neither of you said anything, and then in a boyishly cute fashion, Joel simply said, "Hi."

"Hi." You breathed the word back and your gaze alternated, in rapid fashion, from looking into his eyes to down at his lips and back again.

That was when Joel recognized your hesitation and took the initiative. He grabbed you by the side of the face with one hand and kissed you. This time he *really* kissed you.

It was fierce and hot. Your tongue fought for dominance with his, but ultimately Joel took over with ease. You gasped when you took a breath and then dove back in for more.

Fuck, how would you stop? There wasn't a part of your body that had the will to stop.

And then came a whistle from below. It jolted both of you back to reality and you suddenly remembered where you were.

"Joel!" A voice called up. "You good?" It was one of the deckhands.

"I'm on my way down!" Joel called back. He turned back to you and sighed through his nose. His hand still rested on your cheek. "Come to dinner with me."

You nodded, knowing full well how crimson your face was and swollen your pupils must have been.

"Do you feel comfortable coming by my house first? I just have to take a quick shower. I'll be in and out in five minutes."

Joel's house? Him showering? Naked. With you there.

"If not," he went on, "That's fine. I could meet you at the restaurant-"

"No, it's fine," you blurted before he could suggest anything else. "I'll go with you."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." You couldn't hold back a smile.

Joel smiled back. "Alright, let me just get this boat secured and then we'll go."

"Okay." You took a breath as he exited your personal space. It felt empty without him there, especially in the throes of infatuation. Still, it gave you a second to process what the immediate future would hold as you tried to keep your cool about going to Joel's house.

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 5

[penvisions]

the melting point {chapter 6}

Pariring: Frankie Morales x Baker! Reader (ex EMT! Reader)

Summary: You finally go out for another drink with the guys and make another friend in the process.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: ptsd, trauma, mentions of gunfire, mentions of guns, nothing explicit, just the noises of gunfire, flirting, sexaul undertones, girls being overly friendly with each other, cigarettes, smoking, consumption of alcohol

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist 

“Don’t start with me.” You leaned against the main counter by the register, cradling a hot latte in your hands as you pinned the man across from you with a look. 

You felt his eyes watching not so subtly the entire time you made Frankie a latte for the road, the man taking a minute to freshen up in your bathroom upstairs before bidding you both a good day and inviting you to drinks later on that night. You two had kept your distance, Frankie taking in the display on the shelves of candles and packaged mixes you offered of some of your stuff.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything about your…coping mechanisms.”

“He’s the one they volunteered to bring me the flowers.”

“That was all Benny’s idea, good guy, thoughtful.”

“Yeah, he’s not so bad. Let’s me stay late after lock up sometimes if the bakery is busy and I can’t get there in time.”

“Loyal.”

“Yes, like you.” Your gaze softened as you set your mug aside and crossed the small space behind the counter where he had been leaning on the opposite counter by the expresso machine. You fit yourself in his arms, sighing as they came to wrap firmly around you in a warm embrace. “Te amo, I missed you.”

“I missed you too, darlin’.” He let his slight drawl decorate his words, knowing how much you got a kick out of it when it slipped into his voice. You both just stood there quietly for a few moments, letting the time go by with no real worries. When you moved away to go back to your now lukewarm coffee, you glanced at him, taking in the way he was watching you carefully.

“I’m okay, really. Just…shut down for a bit is all. Got overwhelmed, you know how I get. Too much happening all at once.”

“I know, but it’s also good to know you have a helper when it comes to getting some frustration out at being overwhelmed.” The smirk and teasing tone of his words made color blossom on your face and you ran your hands over your bare arms, still in your tank top from last night. “How long has that little fire been goin’?”

“Uh, it hasn’t, actually.” You busied yourself with gathering his empty mug and downing what was left in yours before moving the cups to the back kitchen sink. He knew to follow you, watching your legs carefully as you ascended the stairs, worried about your hip even if you didn’t say it was hurting you.

“That was actually only my second time interacting with him but he’s just so….”

“Dreamy, scruffy, perfectly broad and just oh so handsome with that sweet smile he flashes you as he looks up at you through his lashes?”

“Oh shut up, someone sounds a little jealous.” You teased, knowing you two were in a good enough place to do so.

“Darlin’, he’s your type is all I’m sayin’. It takes one to know one.” He winked at you, his wide grin filling you with a warmth you hadn’t felt since parting ways with him. “It’s okay to try and find a perfect copy of what you once had.”

“Oh shut up!” You plopped down on the couch, his form doing so on the other end.

“But seriously, the way he was lookin’ at you, he’ll be good for you. Even if you decide you don’t want it after a while, but…it’s okay if you want that too.”

You didn’t say anything but the blush on your cheeks said enough as Frankie’s face appeared behind closed eyes.

-

“Oye, oye, mira quién limpia muy bien! Mantequilla, te ves hermosa!” Pope let out a low whistle as he spotted you walking toward them. You had on an olive-colored sundress with a scoop neckline. The short sleeves of the dress allowed for your decorated arms to be seen, the neckline of it allowing for the leaves that weaved their way over your collarbones, symmetrical on your skin. The bodice on it was formfitting, the fabric allowing for your curves to be seen before it flared out in a soft, billowy skirt that fell right mid thigh. You had tamed your hair, letting it fall in natural curls. Light winged eyeliner and shimmery gray eyeshadow helped to make you look a little less tired than you felt. You had tried, for yourself….and for Frankie if you were being honest with yourself.

Frankie turned to see what Pope was fussing over and his gaze caught the way your hands flattened out the skirt of the dress as you walked up to them. You gave them a little wave, a nervous smile gracing your lips. He felt his heart thump hard in his chest and he brought a hand up to rub a thumb under his bottom lip as he watched you approach.

“Manté, you look amazing!” Benny shoved passed Frankie’s frozen form and scooped you up in a hug. He swung you around and the skirt billowed with the movement. He set you down gently, so as to not make you trip in the wedged heels that adorned your feet. He looked at you, his arms still around you as he spoke. “I’m so glad you’re okay. You had me worried there.”

“We were all worried, but we understand. Things are heavier some days than others.” Will spoke up, gently nudging his little brother out of the way to give you a hug of his own. He was all but shoved for Pope to move in and hug you, picking you up and twirling you around a few times to elicit a sweet laugh from you.

“Hermosa, you are just stunning, I’m tempted to eat you up.” Pope’s hands were settled on your waist as he set you down, his eyes meeting yours. His eyes softened at the nervous glint your own still held. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “You’re such a sight, wish you were mine but I know you gotta thing for Fish over there. He’s a lucky guy.”

The bloom of color across your cheeks had Frankie wondering what nonsense the man was whispering to you, the creep of jealousy in his chest not feeling too great as you leaned into the man to whisper something back.

“Who says it was just for him, maybe I wanted to impress the handsome man who shamelessly flirts with me all the time, hmm?” You winked at him as you separated. Frankie wasn’t sure how to greet you, especially with the flash of your pleasured face and the memory of a wanton moan gracing his mind as you finally made it to where they were clustered by the door. You reached out for him, an arm going over his shoulder in a gentle hug that sent tingles down his spine. Frankie didn’t do much other than bring a hand up around your back, his wide hand resting lightly on you as he returned the embrace.

“Thank you all for the flowers, they’re sitting in my kitchen and make me smile every time I see them.”

“Was just trying to reach out without being too much for ya.” Benny smiled, shaking hands with Taylor as the man approached the group, he had dropped you off down the street to go search for parking. “It’s nice to meet you in person. You sure weren’t lying about getting out.”

“My girl here needed me.” Taylor brandished your phone at you, it had fallen from your bag when you got out of the car in a rush. He gently pulled the strap of your crossbody bag to bring you closer to him and he snuck it into the larger pocket, his hand lingering on your hip to help steady you as he noticed your right leg drag a little at his motion. You tutted quietly at him, looking up at him with your back to them all for a second. Will shared a look with Pope, the both of them glancing over at Frankie at the casual display of comfortability. But he didn’t seem too bothered by it, if anything he seemed like it was perfectly normal behavior…

“She’s tough but she’s human.”

“Aren’t we all, let’s get this night started!” Benny led the way into the bar, holding the door open for you to go in first and motioning to the table they normally occupied in the back.

-

The sound of someone slamming down their shot glass had you ducking without a thought. The subsequent slamming of more after the first had your breathing and heart rate pick up, your eyes scrunching shut and your hands coming up to cradle the back of your head. The squeals let out by those who had taken the shots had you whipping around to face them, your hands going to your waist to reach for the stuff you no longer carried on your form, instincts to rush over to see if they were alright having you moving to stand. A gentle hand came down on your thigh before you could get up completely. You turned to look at a concerned Taylor, who was sitting to your left.

“You’re okay, darlin’. Just some rowdy people, no one’s hurt.”

“….right, sorry. Instinct.”

“It’s okay, you’re okay.”

You looked around the table, noting that it had fallen silent at your rustle of movements. The laughter that had just been filling the air at a dumb joke had stopped. The guys were trying not to be obvious in their concern, but you could see it in the way Frankie’s hands were tight around his pint. How Pope had one hand running through his hair as the other was flat on the table in his own reaction to the sound, how Benny and Will were having a silent conversation with a look. You let the breath you were holding go, reaching for your drink and downed the half that was in the glass.

“Excuse me.” You stood, Taylor’s hand sliding off your thigh at the motion. You reached for your bag and pulled out the pack of cigarettes that was in the outermost pocket before weaving your way through the bar and outside.

“So that’s why she doesn’t ever come out for drinks.”

“Benny!”

“What?”

“He’s right, though. Shot glasses being slammed sound like gunfire.” Taylor spoke, waving a hand at the busy waitress to let her know he was ready to order when she had a minute. She smiled at him, nodding to let him know she saw him and would be over shortly. “She’s not too big a fan of guns. Hates that I have them in the house, that I insist she has one in hers.”

“Guns are important for protection.” Santiago spoke up, wanting to make the point even in present company.

“Guns are also a number one trigger, y’all know that.” Will spoke up, not wanting to get into discourse over something they all hand in their hands or on their person for a majority of their lives.

“You and your girl need a refill?” The waitress saddled up the table, wiping her hands on the small black apron that was barely longer than her shorts. “Traditional vodka sour and a stout, right?”

“Yes, ma’am, that would be appreciated. I’d also like to ask you where the best parlor is, lookin’ to fill this space right here.” Taylor pulled the folded sleeve of his flannel up his forearm a bit to show the waitress the muscular line of his arm. “I have a feelin’ that floral piece peeking out from your hem was done locally.”

“You make a girl blush, talking so blatantly about staring when your girl sits right beside you.” She leaned down into his space in a challenge.

“She hasn’t been mine like that in a long while, sweetheart. So lookin’ ain’t hurting anybody.”

“Hmm, I’ll grab your drinks and the card for the shop, give me a few.” She winked at him before she moved away, her hips swaying a little more at her pleasure from the interaction.

“Ho-ly shit.” Pope patted the man on the back roughly. “She never even gives me the time of day anymore but you got her attention.” Her figure was intercepted by yours as you walked back into the bar and made your way up to the counter where the well was. You waved at her, your curls bouncing with the movement. As she came around the corner of the bar, you reached a hand out to gently touch her upper arm. You leaned into her space to say something and the guys watched with rapt attention as the bartender smiled wide and turned a bit to lift up her shirt and show you the floral piece that adorned her lower back. The movement allowed for her whole middle to be seen as her shorts were slung so low on her waist. She reached a hand out to guide one of your own to it, allowing you to run your fingers over the linework as she gushed about it excitedly.

You nodded along, listening intently. As she turned back into your space you reached down to grab the hem of your flowing skirt and brought it up enough to show the entirety of your right leg. The lace band of your underwear was very much visible and a nice mauve pink as you showed off the giant flower that decorated the side of your hip and upper thigh. You were both talking so fast but they couldn’t hear it over the hush of patrons, though they did very much see the way the woman’s fingers gently traced the ink as you had done on her.

Frankie’s mind short circuited as he recalled how soft you had been underneath him just this morning, the way his hands had run along the hot lines of your limbs and over the same ink the girl was now now tracing so innocently…. He coughed and turned away from the rather erotic scene, catching Taylor’s eyes as the man glanced at him across the table with a knowing smirk.

Not a word was said by any of them as you bounded back to the table with two drinks in one hand, held up by your shoulder and a colorful card in the other with a phone number and name scribbled on the back of it. Your smile faltered a little as you took in the way they were all staring at you as you approached.

“Y’all okay?”

They all cleared their throats and mumbled incoherently.

“That was…hot.” Benny’s words were blunt, causing a laugh to bubble up before you could stop it. The rest of the evening went off with a ton of laughs and easy going conversation.

previous chapter || next chapter 

[redahlia-writes]

you make loving fun. | frankie morales x ofc

three. everywhere

content (for this chapter): swearing (in multiple languages), chaotic siblings dynamic, insecurities, references to a past (bad) relationship, fluff, one black eye, a landlord being a landlord (derogatory), frankie being a little bit of an idiot, symbolism if you squint

word count: 6.2k

a/n: for santi's girl please refer to @lcvenderblues (i feel like i'm throwing you to the wolves), and also thank her because it's the main reason why camila and frankie came to be. i wanna thank you all once again for the response to the previous chapters, makes me cry a bit and ily all

reblogs and feedback are always greatly appreciated. you can send it here, too

series masterlist | masterlist

previous

“Frankie has always been the least impulsive of us. When we worked together, it was the two of us bringing down the rashness of the group–I think that’s why we went along in the first place. I looked at him and saw a wise, level-headed, considerate man–and then Camila happened. Sorry, I’m sorry, just a joke! But, truly, ever since she came into his life, Frankie became different–it took me a while to realize it was a good different, that it was, for lack of a better word, his healing. And I liked Camila, since the first day we met: she was funny, kind, smart, beautiful too–most of all, I’d never seen Frankie like that. None of us had. It was odd, I think, and she knew that. I’ve never met anybody as understanding as Camila, as able to read other people as she does, and I’ll admit it was a little scary, in the beginning. But I’ll never forget–and, Fish, you don’t know this–one night, we were out for drinks, and Camila pulled me aside; it was just a few weeks after we’d first met, she looked me straight in the eyes and told me William–swear to God, the first person to call me William in years–, I could never hurt him. She said it like she couldn’t even fathom the idea of doing so, and it was so easy to believe her. It became even easier as time went by, and she stuck not only with Frankie, but the rest of us. So Fish, thank you for bringing her into our lives–I know I don’t have to tell you how lucky both of you are.”

The three men at the door looked at the woman in front of them with a dumbfounded gaze, looking between her and the young girl giggling in her arms. Alba wriggled in her hold, reaching her arms over towards the closest of the three of them.

“Does it take three people to deliver pizza now?” she wondered, her eyes flickering with amusement as she tilted her head to the side, loose strands of her braided hair falling across her face. Alba, turning her head towards her, squealed and imitated her as she looked back at the men, headbutting Camila gently in the cheek with a babble. “I know, baby–they don’t even have the pizza!” she hummed with a grin.

“Sorry,” the tallest of them managed to pull himself back from his haze, leaning forward slightly, “who are you?”

“Camila,” she readjusted Alba on her hip, her gaze wandering across them one more time.

“Mila, do you need–” Frankie called, walking towards the entrance. At the sight of the three men, he stopped in his tracks for a moment. “Carajo,” he muttered under his breath, then reached her side–his hand rose to the small of her back right away, a gentle caress up across her spine as one of Alba’s arms pushed out in his direction. “What are you doing here?”

“Interrupting somethin’, clearly,” the one at the front said, looking at Camila and Alba, then back towards Frankie, dark eyebrows arched. “Surprise?”

“Is this Morales?” a voice called from behind them, and all five turned. “Pizzas for Morales?” the delivery guy offered, tentatively.

“Yeah, sorry,” Frankie sighed, fishing the money from Camila’s cardigan pocket before pushing between the men to retrieve the boxes and pay him. He turned back towards her, his gaze darting between the three before settling on her–she shrugged lightly, her eyebrows arching a little, to which he tilted his head to the side, and only then she nodded. It happened so fast, the others simply stood staring, all equally perplexed, until Frankie sighed again. “So, are you guys staying for dinner?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” the boxes were quickly removed from Frankie’s hands as one of the men walked inside, lingering a moment at the threshold with a little smile on his boyish face. “Hi,” Alba babbled the word back, and his eyes shimmered slightly before he looked at Camila again. “I’m Benny.”

“I know, dear,” she said gently, her smile soft and incredibly warm. Benny tripped on the step to get fully inside, gripping the boxes a little tighter in his hands as he walked past with her free hand brushing his shoulder–he turned to the others, his eyes a little wide. “You’re Will,” she added, looking towards the taller of them–he nodded, his lips pressed a little tighter than before–and then turned to the last of them. “Which means you’re Santiago.”

“Christ, nobody’s called me Santiago in ages apart from my mother,” he muttered, and Frankie elbowed him in the ribs. “Ya basta, pendejo,” he complained, pushing the man aside before stepping forward. “Sorry, chiquitita,” he murmured towards a smiling Alba. “Yes, hi.”

“Ma’am,” Will nodded his head as he walked in, and Camila’s eyes widened a little before she snorted, sending the child in another fit of giggles. Will frowned slightly, his steps faltering as he turned to look over his shoulder at Frankie, right after him.

“Sorry, just–Camila is just fine, Will,” she said, shifting to close the door. Frankie moved at her side, his hand again reaching up her back before he had to grab Alba, her whole body tipping forward to reach for her father. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called ma’am in my life.”

“Get in here and make yourself useful, Miller!” Santi called out from the kitchen, and Will cleared his throat with one last glance in Camila’s direction before walking away.

Frankie bumped his shoulder gently with Camila’s, turning his gaze towards her and mouthing a quiet sorry to which she smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry,” she reassured softly, interlocking her arm with his and walking with him towards the kitchen, where plates and glasses clattered, quick and nervous chattering filling the space. “Besides, you did mention us meeting.”

“Yeah, just–” he took a slow breath in, exhaled when her chin brushed his shoulder. “I think I was hoping it’d happen as late as possible,” she laughed softly, placing yet another kiss on his stubbled cheek.

“Well, at least one of them likes me for sure,” she whispered, glancing at the three bumping into each other in the kitchen, and smiled. “I can work with that. I’ll be right back.”

He let Alba back down to toddle by herself in the kitchen, followed by him shortly–the three men stopped their chat and movements as soon as they saw him, Benny crouching down with his arms wide open to welcome the child.

“If we crashed date night you could just say it,” Santi said, eyebrows arched as he looked at Frankie leaning on the counter.

“She just came over after work, Pope,” he muttered in return, head hanging a little lower. “My place’s closer than hers and neither of us wanted to cook, that’s all.”

“That’s all,” he scoffed, mockingly, before mimicking the other man’s position–elbows on the counter, head slightly tilted to look at him. “You don’t want us here. You wanted to keep hiding her from us.”

“Pope,” Will chided, clear eyes hardening a little with the reproach.

“Hiding her?” Frankie frowned, pushing himself up. “You’ve all known about her for months, what are you talking about?”

“Yeah, six months,” Santi’s eyes darted towards the door and then back to his friend. “You do realize it’s been six fucking months since you first went out with her, right?”

“Don’t listen to your uncle, he can’t watch his mouth,” Benny told Alba, who sat on his bent arm and giggled whenever he looked back up at her. 

“Sorry,” Santi muttered, but quickly turned back towards Frankie. “All I’m saying is, you’re hiding her from us–or us from her, maybe.”

“I’m not hiding anybody, Pope,” Frankie sighed heavily, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “But if you must know, this is why I hadn’t introduced you yet–you’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion.”

“This whole thing? You mean your girlfriend, Fish?” Santi snorted, to which Frankie frowned again.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he mumbled, flinching when Benny, suddenly at his side, hit him in the arm. “What?”

“Dude, come on,” the younger Miller said, with a wide grin and his head tilted–Alba imitated him, too, tipping herself to the side. Benny’s hand reached up to balance her. 

“What?” he repeated, shrugging lightly.

“You’ve been spending all your time with her–we gotta start ambushing you to remember what you look like,” Frankie rolled his eyes, stepping back to fold his arms across his chest.

“I don’t spend all–I’m not having this conversation,” he exclaimed at last, shaking his head. “You’re here now, you’re meeting her, that’s it.”

“Still sounds like you don’t want to,” Santi retorted, to which Frankie threw his hands up in the air, head tipped back.

“Dios–you’re unbelievable,” he muttered. His position shifted almost immediately after, shoulders sagging a little as if in relief before he turned his head, just a moment before Camila stepped into the kitchen–she’d undone her hair, washed her face of any residual make-up, barefooted, and looked right at home. “Hungry?”

The three of them glanced at each other as a bubble seemed to form around Frankie and Camila, his eyes crinkling at the corners while she reached his side, nodding with her eyebrows arched. Frankie’s hand sought her arm, trailing down the large sleeve until it brushed her hand, fingers hooking almost as an afterthought. She leaned in, and brushed a quick kiss to Frankie’s lips. The others looked away quickly–it felt like something too homely to be witnessing. Too intimate.

“Starving,” she replied, bumping into his side gently, a smile grazing her lips.

“Mi-a!” Alba called, loudly, rocking herself in Benny’s hold. The woman’s eyes shimmered slightly, and she circled around Frankie to reach for the child–she all but fell in her embrace, with a giggle as soon as her face was buried in the waves of her hair, tugging slightly on the closest lock she could grab.

“Hey, how come you call for her but not your uncle?” Santi protested, reaching for both of them. “Ya pues, digas tío, chiquitita,” he leaned so that his face was a little closer to Camila’s shoulder, where Alba rested her chin and gave a toothy grin. “¿Puedes llamar a tu tío Santi?” the woman chuckled at his sweetened voice, looking towards him from above her shoulder.

“Sorry, Pope,” Frankie exclaimed, his hand coming down onto the man’s back in a mockingly reassuring pat. “Think she has a favorite Garcia now.”

“Yeah, yeah, must run in the family,” he scoffed, then reached over to poke Alba’s cheek. “Pequeña traidora,” he whispered, making the child squeal and hide her face into Camila’s shoulder. “Alright then–I’ll just have to win you back.”

“Oh, you’re making it into a competition?” Camila chuckled, stepping aside and towards the living room–Santi followed shortly after, bringing Alba’s high chair with him.

“Of course I am,” he declared, puffing his chest out a little. “For both Morales,” he added, and Camila’s laughter rang crystalline and loud.

Frankie’s gaze stayed trained on them, blindly reaching for the pizza boxes until another hit against his shoulder from Benny made him groan and rub against the offended spot, looking back at the younger Miller with a frown.

“Will you quit that?” he grumbled, to which Benny snickered.

“Not your girlfriend my ass, Fish,” he took the pizzas from him, walking backwards to the living room with a slightly wilder grin. “You’re not fooling anybody!”

Will, quiet until that moment, tilted his head as Frankie’s gaze moved from his younger brother to Camila–she was crouched down with Alba in front of her and Santi to the side, her hair falling like a curtain across her side profile until she reached up, tucking it behind her ear to reveal a smile. A quick one broke on Frankie’s lips, too, and Will cleared his throat.

“Looks pretty serious,” he commented, level-voiced, and Frankie looked back at him.

“Still figuring it out,” he admitted, occupying his hands by gathering the glasses one of them had already pulled from the pantry. “It’s–you know how it is. Better safe than sorry.”

Will wondered if Frankie was truly unaware there was no safe anymore–not with the way he seemed to be lured by her, eyes and body seeking her even though she was just a few steps away. Not with the way her gaze softened when she looked at him, too, her hand trapped in Alba’s ones.

“How much does she know?” Will asked softly–careful, always calculated Will.

Frankie shrugged, lowering his gaze before turning it to his friend once more.

“All of it.”

“The pilot license?” he nodded, tapping his index against the side of the glass he was holding. “Colombia?”

“All of it, Will,” he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, brows pinched together. “She’s known for a while, and she’s still here, and things are good. Actually good.”

“Alright,” Will said quickly, stepping towards him and reaching to squeeze his shoulder. Frankie exhaled heavily, face relaxing. “Alright, Frankie, I’m sorry,” he added, and sighed before taking the glasses from Frankie. “She does seem nice. I’ll tone it down.”

“Thank you,” he nodded once, and turned his gaze to meet hers across the room–a quick smile pulled at his mouth once more, instinctual and soft. “She really, really is. She’s good.”

Camila’s fingers gently scratched across his scalp, the images on the TV screen blurring with each passing moment–the movie played softly, sound muffled by one of his ears pressed against her thighs, one hand brushing small and slow circles over her knee from above the hem of her skirt.

Alba was asleep in her room, a reprieve from her ever growing vocabulary and the quickness of her steps that had left them both exhausted–Frankie knew that if neither of them made a move to get up and go to bed, they’d probably spend the night right there on the couch.

“Whose idea was it to go out today?” he mumbled, cheek squished against her leg that turned his words into a light slur. Camila chuckled, trailing the hand that was in his hair down to the nape of his neck, making him sigh softly.

“Yours,” he gave a gentle squeeze to her knee and groaned.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing himself against her a little harder–Camila chuckled again. “The park, too?”

“It’s such a nice day,” she responded, deepening her voice in a mock imitation of him. “The sun’s out, it’ll do Alba some good to be outside. Oh, let’s also invite the others!”

“That is not how I speak,” he protested, pinching her inner thigh–she snorted, wriggling a little underneath him. In response, he draped his whole arm over her legs, locking her in place. “Besides, you’re the one who brought that cake–the sugar high is on you.”

“Your mom gave me the recipe! I had to try it,” she retorted with an offended gasp, poking his shoulder with her finger. A buzz came from the coffee table in front of them–the nth of the evening–and the laughter in her words left space to a heavy sigh as she waved towards her own phone, its screen lit. “Could you turn that off?”

“Sure,” he murmured, holding onto her legs to reach for it. “Do you want to see what it is?” he asked, lifting it over his head to offer it to her–she made an annoyed noise from the back of her throat, and he twisted his neck a little to look back at her.

“No need, it’s just my landlord again,” she muttered, taking the phone from him with a grimace twisting her lips. He watched her as she pressed on the shut off button before throwing the phone aside, pulling her glasses over her head. 

“Everything alright?” he asked, once more softly, moving his hand over the top of her legs.

“Yeah, he’s just–breathing down my neck,” she sighed, sinking a little against the backrest. “Next rent payment is coming up–a few months ago work didn’t pay me on time, so I couldn’t pay him on time, and he started being an ass about it,” she scoffed, fingertips brushing through his locks again. “Texts me every single time, even though I’ve been punctual ever since.”

“Maybe you could not pay him,” the words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself, and he tried to play it off with a shrug that reverberated across her body, too.

“I still need the apartment, Frankie,” she chuckled softly, rolling the tip of a lock between her fingertips. “I can’t just decide to–” when his body tensed, Camila stopped and he felt her shift in her seat, leaning slightly forward. “Wait, what do you mean?”

Frankie’s ears started to burn as he felt her gaze on the side of his face, and he quickly cleared his throat to try and clear the knot that had formed.

“I mean, you’re here most of the time,” he murmured, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. “Half your stuff’s here already, and you’re closer to work, so I just thought–” he closed his eyes, drawing a slow breath in.

Silence wrapped around them, the only sound that of the now forgotten movie and his own heart thundering, blood rushing to his ears. There it was, he thought, the reckoning–he’d fucked up truly this time, had let himself run away with the comfort of their situation, but it had been too much, too soon, too–

“Frankie,” she tapped against his shoulder, voice and touch equally soft as she shifted on the couch and tried to slide from under him. Reluctantly, he pulled himself up, keeping his gaze lowered to where she was crossing her legs and turning towards him. “I need to be sure you’re asking what I think you’re asking,” her hand searched for his across the cushion. “Do you–are you asking me to move in? Here, with you and Alba?”

“God knows she wouldn’t be thrilled to have you here every day,” he scoffed softly, then slowly lifted his eyes. Her glasses were a little askew over her head, eyes wide and eyebrows arched as she let her gaze dart across his form. “I would too, and I know–” he locked his index around her small finger, pulling her hand up and towards his lap, “it’s soon, and quick, and maybe too much, I just thought–it’s convenient, is it not?”

“You’re not asking me just because it’s convenient,” he shifted his hand until they were palm to palm, her eyes moving from the point they were joined back towards his face, a flicker of doubt crossing her eyes. “Are you?”

“No, of course not,” he shook his head, and she moved closer across the couch, leaning in a little–he caught her side with his free hand, thumb rubbing at her waist, right underneath her ribcage. “You wouldn’t have to worry about rent–that apartment is awful, anyway,” he added with a quick, nervous laugh.

“Frankie, honey,” her free hand reached up to cup his jaw, and in doing so he met her gaze fully, drawing a quick breath in before melting towards her touch. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I am,” trailing up her side and arm, he wrapped his hand around hers right against his face, pressing his cheek into her palm. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s a big change, Frankie,” she kept her voice low, yet he still could catch the nervous edge on the tip of her tongue. “For you, for Alba–do you really want me here all the time? It’s–” she must’ve noticed the shift in his expression, the slow retreating of his expectant gaze as his lips dropped into a half-pout. Too much, too soon, too eager, too– “I need to know you’re actually sure. Because waking up next to you is the happiest I’ve been in almost two years–a little more, if I’m being honest–and I can’t get my hopes up if it’s just, I don’t know, a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

He had realized early on that Camila rarely held back–over the course of the months they’d kept seeing each other, he’d pieced together the messiness of her last relationship, the sorrys and moments of silence she carried after it, the uncertainties that still manifested in her sometimes-gazes towards him. A work in progress, she called it, trying to smile it off–but Frankie could see the frustration when she thought she’d done something wrong, and caught herself seizing up for it, searching his gaze for reassurance.

It nearly broke his heart.

Yet it made him understand why doubt was clinging to her like a second skin, why she sought more and more of him as they talked about it.

“This is it for me, Mila,” letting go of her hands, he reached for her waist and pulled her close–as close as he could before she had to move onto his lap. Her hands fell to his chest, gripping the collar of his shirt. “It is a big change, but I don’t mind it–and I can assure you, Alba won’t either. I do think she likes you more than me,” she chuckled softly, bottom lip trembling slightly. “And I’m absolutely sure–if you don’t want to now, then someday else,” he shrugged, squeezing her waist once in reassurance before smiling. “But, even now, I wouldn’t mind coming home to you every night–although actually, it’s you coming home to me, but still–” his sentence was cut off by her lips pressing to his, quick and a little messy in her hastiness.

Frankie’s arms wrapped around her, one hand shifting up across her spine as she almost toppled over to get closer and closer and closer still–he could feel her hands moving from his chest to his shoulders, up his neck, in his hair, shuddering breaths across his lips as she pressed herself into his front, moving onto her knees and straddling him.

“Is that a yes?” he slurred through the kisses, leaning against the backrest of the couch and bringing her with him–her lips trailed down across his cheek, his jaw, and he squeezed her hips once, twice, chuckling. “Mila–”

“Yes,” she mumbled, arms wrapping around his shoulders before she buried her head in the curve of his neck–all the tension left her body, and he blindly reached up to take the glasses from her head, the frame pushing a little into his jaw until he placed them aside. “Frankie?”

“Yes, baby?” he asked softly, brushing through her hair, nape of her neck and down her back. It was easier to confess while hiding against his collar, thumb brushing the side of his neck–his pulse jumped towards her touch, eyes closing as he sighed in response to her words.

“You’re it for me, too.”

And although he had been terrified in the beginning, Frankie knew there was no timeline where, as they kept seeing each other, he wouldn’t fall deeply, deeply for her. He’d known it, deep down, from the day he’d woken up with her in his arms for the first time; from the first time he’d seen her with Alba, and his heart had skipped a beat; even before, he’d known it when they were in his car, and her voice, loud, louder, had brought back to life a part of him he hadn’t realized he was missing.

“Should I see the other guy?” Camila took Benny’s face in her hands as soon as he walked out in the backyard, angling his head down towards her to get a better view of his left eye–bruised and slightly swollen, it made his eyelid droop a little. “Thought you were done with boxing,” she sighed, frowning ever so slightly.

“MMA,” he corrected, and she arched her eyebrows at him, tilting her head slightly to the side. “Sorry–it’s nothing, wasn’t a fight.”

“Sure looks like one,” she let go of him, stepping back toward the table set behind her shoulders–between more food than all of them could ever consume and drinks, was a bucket of ice she fished from, dropping some of the ice-cubes in a dishcloth that was resting at the corner of the table.

“I mean it, it’s nothing, it’s–” he hissed when she gently placed the ice against the corner of his eye, ducking his head. She held him still by the chin, keeping him so that he was looking down at her. “It’s stupid, really. Don’t worry.”

“A dude was being an asshole to some girl at the market and he stepped in,” Will called from behind his brother, and Camila’s eyebrows arched up again, gaze wandering from one Miller to the other–Benny’s expression was twisted, somewhere between guilt and coyness. 

“I see,” she nodded, her head tilted again. “You were being a knight in shining armor, then,” color crept along Benny’s cheeks, warming his face up a little. “Did you get her number?”

“That’s not–” he tried to argue, but bit his tongue the moment he met Camila’s gaze again, holding his breath for a beat before exhaling. “Yeah.”

She broke into a grin, shifting on her tiptoes to plant a kiss over his still bent head.

“Good boy,” she hummed before patting his shoulder. “Keep the ice on, and eat something–both of you,” she said then, stepping back.

“Yes, ma’am,” Will nodded, already half-way towards the laid out table. Camila scoffed, the back of her hand smacking against his shoulder before he could turn with a wide grin, his head bent towards her.

“Knock the ma’am off, Miller,” she pointed a finger at him, accusingly, and he quickly wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight before he lifted her off the ground, making her squeal with laughter despite her best effort. “This is the last time I’m warning you!” she exclaimed, ruffling his slicked back hair.

“Heard that before,” he chuckled, having now to tip his head back. She scoffed, a mock eye-roll before the smile took over again and she leaned her head down with a noisy kiss to his cheek.

“Where’s Santiago? Is he late again?” she asked, resting her arms over his shoulders, legs still dangling in the air. Will shrugged lightly.

“He’s inside with Frankie and his girl,” the moment the words left his mouth, Camila’s posture shifted, straightening her back as her gaze snapped towards the sliding door.

Frankie had gone to open the door while she finished setting the table for the impromptu almost-fully-moved-in celebration, as they called it, and in that moment she could almost catch a glimpse of his shoulders by the kitchen counter, his back turned on them.

“I’m sorry, did you just say his girl?” Will chuckled, and before she could even start wriggling out of his hold, he set her down and watched her sprint towards the kitchen.

“Pope’s not gonna like that,” Benny told his brother, words slightly muffled by the olive pit turning in his mouth and the ice pressing down his cheek.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” was his only reprimand.

Inside, Camila all but fell against Frankie, leaning forward as he was mid-sentence while holding onto his shoulders–he smiled right away, hands coming up to brush her arms before tilting his head to rest a kiss against her temple. In front of them, Santi held Alba with her arms tightly wound around his neck, and at his side a woman shuffled on the spot, lowering her gaze a little.

“Hi,” Camila said, interlocking her hands with Frankie’s.

“And this is the lady of the house,” Santi all but sighed, tilting his head to look at the woman by his side. “Although there’s not much on the lady part.”

“Cállate, cabrón,” she muttered in response, and Alba wriggled in Santi’s arms.

“Tío!” she called, enthusiastically–Santi’s eyes shimmered, his smile widening.

“You’re right, sweetie–it’s tío cabrón,” she nodded, her voice slightly lowered as she grinned. Frankie chuckled as she shook his head, while Santi’s face dropped in a deep frown that made the woman at his side hide her smile behind her hand.

“Hey, don’t take her side already,” he protested, looking at the woman from over Alba’s head.

“Oh, no–do take my side,” Camila detangled herself from Frankie–much to his dismay, his hand catching the ends of her hair as she brushed past him to reach the other woman’s side. “It’s nice to have some respite from all the testosterone going around in this house,” she added, leaning in almost conspiratorially. She chuckled, gaze darting from Santi–his expression turned in mock-offense–back to Camila.

“Glad to be of service,” she said, sweet-voiced. “And contrary to what he’s letting on now, Santi’s only ever spoken nicely of you–so it’s nice to meet you.”

“Betrayer,” the aforementioned man mumbled, making Frankie snort. Camila turned to look over her shoulder at him, sticking her tongue out and consequently sending Alba in a fit of giggles. “Camila, I’m warning you–”

“Yes, yes,” she waved her hand dismissively, locking her arm with the woman’s to lead her towards the sliding door, their steps matching–the woman looked back just once, a half-apologetic look in her eyes that was accompanied by a smile nevertheless. Santi sighed, defeated, watching the two head outside, back to the Millers.

“Fish, I swear that if your girlfriend does anything–”

“Not my girlfriend,” he interrupted, his gaze still turned towards Camila. With a roll of his eyes, Santi hit the man on the shoulder with the back of his free hand, regaining his attention with a flinch.

“Seriously? You literally live together,” he scoffed, as Frankie shrugged and reached for his daughter instead. The child all but launched herself into her father’s embrace, still giggling.

“We haven’t discussed it, is all,” at that, Santi rolled his eyes again. “So what? We lived together. Should I call you my ex boyfriend?”

“Very mature,” he tsked, shaking his head. “Don’t you think maybe it’s time you do talk about it? What’s the worst that could happen, she says no and moves back out?” he snorted at Frankie’s growing worried gaze, resting one hand over his shoulder. “I doubt that’s how it’ll go, man. Seriously.”

“So you’re gonna finally do the same?” he retorted, letting go of Alba as she squirmed out of his grip and called for Mila. “Be careful, nena–she’s right outside.”

“What are you talking about?” although he tried playing it off quickly, still an edge remained to Santi’s words–he cleared his throat when Frankie looked back towards him, his eyebrows arched. “I told you a million times, we’re just–”

“Friends, sure thing,” it was Frankie’s turn to clasp his hand over Santi’s shoulder. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Pope.”

Santiago hung back as the man made his way outside, and watched when, as soon as she saw him, Camila’s face broke into a smile, quick to welcome him in her embrace once again. Frankie kissed her cheek, her jaw, murmuring something in her ear with a grin that made her laugh, so loud Alba had to join in from her post on the grass.

At their side, lowering her gaze towards the tip of her shoes, was the other woman, hands falling down her sides with a shy smile before she stepped back slightly–and looked up. Their eyes met through the open door, her smile widening and his own returning quickly, instinctively, and something pulled at his chest–hooked underneath his ribs, brushing the edges of his heart, he felt it tug him forward and outside, unrelenting until he reached her.

“Are you sure about the couch?” Frankie called from the living room, his head turned towards the kitchen where he could hear Camila.

“You already have a couch, honey,” she walked in with the nth box in her arms over the course of how many days, weeks, the branches of the rosemary plant poking out from above the edge, purple flowers decorating some of its extremities. “A bigger, way more comfortable one, actually.”

“But it’s practically new,” he protested, placing his hands on one of the cushions, right by half-asleep Alba. “It’s just a pity,” Camila chuckled, placing the box on the ground and walking up to him. “We could put it in storage.”

“It’ll just collect dust in storage, Frankie,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around him and leaning against his back–he straightened himself as she did, her cheek pressing against his shoulder before shifting onto her tiptoes, hooking her chin over the bent of his neck. “We don’t need it–I got everything I had to. I have everything.”

He sighed, his eyes falling shut for a moment as he rested his hands on top of hers–he could feel Camila’s breathy chuckle against his skin before she lowered her lips to his neck, peppering soft kisses along the edge of the collar of his shirt, side to nape in a delicate brush. 

“It’s a really nice couch,” he murmured, and she smiled against his skin.

“I know, it’s the first thing I bought,” she said softly, moving then to his side–she went under his arm, and he wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her in as she took his hand, locking herself into his embrace. “It looks better here, anyway.”

“Is it too late to ask you if you’re sure about this?” he asked, their fingers interlocking.

“Yes,” she turned her head with a light smile, cheek pressed to his shoulder. “You’re not having second doubts, are you?” she asked then, voice softer.

“Of course not,” his response was immediate, turning as well to look at her–her smile widened at his words, shifting their intertwined hands towards her chest. “Just–making sure you don’t have any, either.”

Camila’s gaze softened, carefully unknotting them to move in front of him–still close enough she had to tilt her head slightly back to keep looking at him, pressing his hand to her chest a moment longer before lifting it to her lips. His free hand rose towards her side, brushing his fingers along her hip as she left a gentle kiss across his knuckles and then all but pressed herself to his front. He smiled when she bumped the tip of her nose with his, half-chasing her.

“No doubt whatsoever,” she hummed before their lips met once, twice, soft kisses that crinkled the corners of her eyes. “I never planned on staying here long, I just had to get away from that house, and him,” she shrugged, Frankie’s brows knitting slightly.

I spent so much time during that relationship staying quiet, staying still–he remembered the words clearly from their first morning together, and she’d reconstructed it piece by piece during the following months. Camila counted herself among the lucky ones–her body had never taken the brunt of his boredom, or annoyance. And still she carried some marks.

Still she’d practically ran.

“I would’ve moved in with you on the first night,” she admitted then, grinning.

“Because you liked the house,” he scoffed with mock-offense, and she turned her lips in a half-pout, tipping her chin up.

“Of course. Why else?” he saw her lips quiver with the attempt to hold back a smile, and leaned in to kiss her a little more harshly, making her laugh against his mouth as she brought her hand to his cheek. When he pulled back, she sighed. “Right–maybe for that. And the house.”

“I’ll take it,” he relented with a shrug, followed by an almost sheepish smile–she kissed it off his lips, once and twice and once more, a quiet laughter that she interrupted quickly, slipping out of his grasp before he could even protest it.

“Nena, don’t eat those directly from the plant,” she called softly, walking a bee-line towards the box left behind and Alba, sitting by the rosemary and trying to chew the flowers off the branches. “Here, look,” Camila said, kneeling at her side and plucking some of the small, purple flowers, placing them one by one on Alba’s palm. “My yaya would make candies out of these, but I think they taste nice on their own, too.”

“Can-y,” Alba tried to speak and put the flower in her mouth at the same time, butchering the word–still, with a smile, Camila nodded and mimicked her, placing the flower on the tip of her tongue.

“Yes, can-y,” Alba giggled at the slightly muffled mispronunciation, reaching with her hands towards Camila’s–she gave her another one of the flowers. “You know, if the plant sticks properly in the garden, next year we’re gonna have so many of these,” she added, saying it like a secret.

Frankie’s heart stuttered at her words–next year, we, given as a certainty.

He walked to them both, crouching by them–Camila offered him a flower, which he ate directly from her fingertips, making her scrunch up her nose in mock-disgust while looking at Alba, the kid laughing again and grasping Frankie’s pant leg.

“You sure you want to move it to the garden?” he asked carefully, hand coming down Alba’s head to ruffle her soft curls. The child lifted her arms to wrap them around her dad’s wrist, pulling his hand to her.

“I want it to take root,” Camila nodded, brushing her fingertips along the leaves of the plant. “I found its perfect home already–a great sunny corner. It’ll grow nicely,” she added, meeting his gaze with her voice a little lower. Again Frankie’s heart swelled, and he nodded as he leaned in, nose brushing her hair as he kissed her temple–the rosemary smell clung to her skin, welcoming him home.

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