#frankie x you

[jksprincess10]

Are we out of the woods 1. The cabin

Summary : Your father is a dangerous man who has a lot of enemies. One day, you’re taken from your home by force to go to a safe cabin in the woods to be protected from an unknown danger by three of his men: Ironhead, Pope and Catfish. You’re not really a nature enjoyer, but in your boredom, you discover a new love for nature. You also get to know the men working for your dad and interest sparks between you and the mysterious and silent Francisco.

CW: canon-like violence, explicit smut, reader is kind of a princess at first, talks of divorce, drugs & alcohol, talks of addiction, slight age gap (reader in her mid 20s, frankie in his late 30s), jealousy, tension, frankie is a mess.

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"Dad, I can take care of myself you don't have to -"

"I'm sorry sweetie. You just don't realize how much danger you're in."

You knew your dad wasn't really in the military. He and his boys did kill people... but not to protect the country. Let’s just say your dad wasn’t the most innocent businessman, but you didn't want to know all the details. You were just happy to have a roof over you head and anything you wanted whenever you wanted. You wouldn't have to work a day in your life if you didn’t want to.

"This is Ironhead, Pope and Catfish. They will take you to the safe house and they will watch over your safety."

The three men are all shades of handsome. Ironhead is the classical pretty boy, blondish hair, and pale eyes. Pope is a tan Latino with dark hair and a dark stubble. Catfish is a shy looking man with patchy facial hair and pretty brown eyes.

You don’t acknowledge them at all, and you stop listening as your father gives them precise instructions. You barely have time to pack your bags before they enclose you in the backseat of a truck, next to the man called Catfish. Ironhead is driving and Pope oversees the map. You hope your neighbors don't see the commotion. Outside of your dad's job, you just wanted a normal life.

"Where are we going?" You ask.

You stopped recognizing the scenery a long time ago. You were rolling on rough country roads and the view was filled with trees with bright orange and deep red leaves. The earth was dry and yellow where there were no leaves.

"Somewhere safe." Pope responds pragmatically.

"I wish I could have stayed home." You roll your eyes and cross your arms against your chest.  

"I'm sorry ma'am, but we have orders. Your dad pays us, not you." Ironhead says, looking at you from the rearview mirror.

"Fine. Wake me up when we're there."

Catfish is the only one not talking, his mind seems to be elsewhere.

The house is more of a cabin in the woods than anything else. You expected a bunker or something sturdier, but not this house made out of dark wood. It looks very remote and boring. Good thing you brought your kindle because counting the logs that composed the house would get boring very fast.

"At least it's not a tent." You grumble to yourself. The boys laugh.

"Sorry it's not a castle." Responds Pope. "Let's get settled."

The cabin is much larger on the inside. The boys would share a room with bunk beds, and you would have your private quarters. Thank god. You couldn’t imagine sleeping in the same room as three sweaty and probably snoring men.

You discover your room: it has no personality, but the bed seems big and somewhat cozy. There’s a small window, from where you can admire a calm lake. You leave your bag on the mattress and start unpacking. You brought a few changes of warm clothes, not knowing if you’d still be here after the snow started falling from the sky. When you’re done, your hunger manifests with a low grumble in your stomach. You go to the cabin’s kitchen to fetch something to eat.

"She's a spoiled brat."

"She acts like she's 12. What do you think, fish? "

Frankie sighs.

"Boss don't pay us to have an opinion. I'll take first watch."

When Catfish comes out of the bedroom where the boys are settling down, he finds you opening the cupboards with a sigh.  

"You guys okay with...butter pasta?" You ask holding up your poor findings, a grimace on your face.

"Yeah. The guys eat whatever." It's the first time you hear his voice. It's slightly rough from his lack of talking. You wonder if he’s always so quiet and mysterious. He seems more interesting to you than the two other men.

You nod and get the water to boil. “Where are you going?” You ask as you see Catfish putting on his coat.

“Taking first watch, ma’am.”

“… Wait… My dad doesn’t really ask you to stand watch outside like a guard dog, does he?” You ask awkwardly. All of this was too much.

“Yes, he does. And I will do what I’m paid to do.”

With that, he’s gone. You shrug, even though you feel bad for the man standing outside in the cold fall night. Pope and Ironhead interrupt your thoughts.

“He’s always doing too much, don’t worry.” Pope offers with a smile as he sees Catfish through the small window of the door.

“I see.” You go back to staring blankly at the boiling water. “We’ll need food.”

“Hm. Respectfully… Didn’t know you could cook…” Ironhead says with a teasing smile. You roll your eyes not so subtly.

“You thought I had a private cook?" You take their silence for a yes. Your mother taught you how to cook and take care of a home so you could take care of your dad as well as she did. "Well, we’re eating plain pasta.” You drop the bag of noodles in the warm water and stir. “Do I have to call you guys by your stupid code names or...?”

“Guess not, since we might be here for a while. I’m Santiago, this is William and the guy with the sad eyes and the old cap is Francisco.”

You tell them your name, so they stop calling you “ma’am”. Not that you don't enjoy that sort of power you have.

"He's so dramatic." Santi sighs. Frankie still hadn't come back in, even though the pasta was getting colder and colder.

"He's doing too much." William agrees. "I don't think there's many dangers out here right now. Besides a few squirrels and maybe a bear. Maybe we should go get him, so he doesn’t die from starvation."

"I'll go." You take the bowl of lukewarm pasta made with butter, salt and pepper. It was the blandest thing you ever cooked. You open the front door and see the man sat on the front porch, gun in hand.

He looks up at you with those pretty dark eyes that shine even brighter under the moonlight.

"Francisco, is it?" You try to sound as pleasant as possible, as if not to scare a stray cat you were trying to pet. "Food is getting cold. I brought it for you, it's pretty bland but - anyway, I think the boys want you to come inside."

You leave the plate beside him and open the door, but his rough voice stops you.

"How do you know my name?"

"Santiago told me. I can call you Catfish if you want, even though it's not flattering at all."

There's the shadow of a smile on his lips. "Just call me Frankie. Only my mami calls me Francisco."

“Alright, Frankie.”

His name sounds so sweet on your lips. And frankly, it’s too cute for the man in front of you, who looks like he had seen better days. You don’t know if you’re hallucinating because of the warm light, but you swear you can see his cheeks getting red when you say his name.

“Well, good night, Frankie. You should come in soon.”

And he wants to follow you badly. But he has a job to do.

You close the door behind yourself, and he waits until you’re out of view to grab the plate and eat the bland pasta. Still, it was better than anything he could cook.

“No luck, boys.”  You say as you come in.

“We’re not surprised. Thanks for trying.” Santi responds nicely.

William is already up and taking care of the dishes for you.  You decide to go to the living room and to get a fire started. You imagine yourself spending long nights here, reading. The couch is old and torn in some places, but large enough for all of you to fit. There is a fluffy carpet on the cold floor and a coffee table, a perfect place where to place warm drinks. It's very cozy, very homey.

Your gaze rests on the window offering a view on the porch, where you imagine Frankie sitting. You don't know if he's actually there, the curtains are drawn, but you have a feeling he probably is.

Your stay might not be too bad after all.

[fooled-around-and-fell]

I was thinking about Pedro open monologue and his porny voice. What if Frankie accidentally called a phone sex line and talks to someone and keeps calling just to talk to her. And it ends up being someone we kinda knows . Like i was like someone write this!!!!

a/n: Love this idea! Hope you like this, love 💖 and I am SO SORRY it took me forever

Pairing: Frankie Morales x female reader

MINORS DNI

Masterlist

-----

Frankie was nervous.

He had never done anything like this before, but there was an urge, a want, a need.

He gulped as the line connected. He didn't know what to expect from the other end of the line, it could even be a prank, but the tightness in his pants defied any morality he had left.

He didn't know what to expect, but he was definitely not expecting an angelic voice that lured him in.

"Hey, how are you?"

Throat dry, hands sweaty, he's sure his grip on his phone was so tight he might break it. "Uh.." was the only thing he could muster.

"I understand this is your first time calling me.. I'm glad you chose me." He heard a light chuckle, "are you nervous?"

"Yeah, just.. just a little bit." Frankie looked around to check if anybody was near even though he's alone in his own house.

"That's okay," Your voice was smooth and calming. It made Frankie's heartbeat race. "Why don't you lay down for me, love?"

Frankie did as he was told. "Okay."

"There we go, more relaxed?" You asked. "Now, how about let's get to know each other first?"

Frankie blinked in confusion. "Um.. I like beer."

"That's nice, I'm a whiskey girl myself," You chuckled, "Anything you like to do in the bedroom? Or be done to you?"

At this point Frankie could hear his own heartbeat. It was loud, so loud that he couldn't speak.

"How about I start, hm?" You said. "I like a dominant man who'd do things to me."

It piqued Frankie's interest. "What.. what things?"

You smiled at the other end of the line. "Mm..punish me if I did something bad, play with me as he pleases... tell me if I'm being a good or a bad girl.. and.. well, I think you can imagine the rest."

"Fuck." Frankie cursed, his other hand palming his pants.

"Tell me more."

-----

Frankie kept calling you after that. Just once every few days. He was captivated with your voice, what you could do with just your voice... it was like you were there with him.

You never told him your name -- not like he told you his. But he found himself wanting to call you more than just babygirl these days.

You couldn't help but think of this mystery guy, sometimes. You've asked for his name several times but he never told you. You've resorted to calling him sir, daddy, or love.

There was something about his voice that sounded familiar, like you've heard it before, and you liked it. He was shy at first, but then he really opened up to you and told you the things he liked, things he wanted to do, the things he could do to you if you two met in real life.

"Fuck, baby, what I'd give to have you right here with me. Right now."

"I want you, too." You weren't lying. "I want you so bad."

"Are you touching yourself?"

A pause, cause you knew you shouldn't. You're the one working. "..Yes."

"Bad girl." Frankie chuckled, "You know you're not supposed to."

"Can't help it. You're just.... fuck. There's something about you." You pulled your shorts up.

"I feel the same way." He sighed, "Well, if you see a guy with a hat, a shirt -- mostly greasy shirt, and a mustache everyone is clearly jealous of.. that's me."

You chuckled. "Must be quite the mustache you have."

"One of the many great features I have." Frankie joked.

You described yourself to him, truthfully. You weren't sure why, but he made you want to be honest with him, made you want to show him who you really are.

"All I hear is beautiful."

Your legs were kicking under your table, a smile was on your face, and you realized you might be crushing on this man whom you've never met before.

You didn't even know what he looked like! How could hearing his voice make you this excited?

"Serious question though," Frankie cleared his throat, "How'd you start working here?"

You blinked a few times, "Are you trying to get to know me?"

Frankie let out a nervous laugh. "Sort of.. haha, is that so bad?"

"Mm. I don't know. I don't even know your name."

"What, calling me sir or daddy isn't satisfying you enough?"

You laughed, "You know that's not what I mean."

He smiled cheekily, "Well then say it. Call me daddy."

-- it wasn't like any other session. Usually with your other clients, you'd roleplay into this character you knew they liked, try to help them build their ideal scenario until they finished and you get your pay.

But with this man... it felt more natural. It felt like you're two people in a long distance relationship, talking at the end of your days, catching up, and just longing for each other.

It felt good, but you wonder why he was doing this. And if he, like you, wanted more.

-----

You were out at a party, one of your friends was hosting a BBQ night at his backyard, and you were more than happy to join in. Spending the entire day studying for school and then with your side job as a phone sex operator.. wasn't easy.

"Hey!" Santiago hugged you, "Sorry, I was busy helping Ben with the grill. Anyway, come on, you haven't met the guys in a while."

You and Santiago are friends because of your brother, who used to be his childhood friend. When your brother died in the field, Santiago treated you as his own little sister, taking care of you and making sure you're okay every time he's not busy.

Santiago knew about your side job, and he doesn't mind. You know it can be quite taboo, but it also pays your bills and you live very comfortably off of it.

"Guys, you remember Y/N." Santiago brought you over. "She's like my little sister, so don't mess with her."

"Relax, gramps." You chuckled, "You're only 3 years older than I am."

"Oh, they grow up so fast." He faked a tear.

"So, how's the studying going, kid?" Tom went along with the joke.

"Pretty good, actually." You chuckled, "If everything goes well, I should be able to be a nurse soon."

"That's great!" Tom said, "You can finally let being a phone operator go."

You laughed, "yeah, maybe. It does pay really well."

"It's a tough job, I don't know how you do it." Ben said. "How do you deal with a bunch of horny men desperate for... for release??"

You shrugged, "I got used to it, just gotta get to know them and have fun."

You were having a good time talking to the guys, having great food, reconnecting with people and just.. socializing. It's been a while since you did that, but you can't help but feel there's a pair of eyes staring at you.

And that pair of eyes managed to catch you off guard, alone in the kitchen while you were grabbing something to drink.

"I was wondering when you'd talk to me."

That was a complete lie. You had no idea who it was until you turned around -- Frankie.

He put his hands in his pockets. "Didn't want to bother you while you were havin' a good time is all."

You smiled. "How have you been, Frankie?"

"Good, mostly. And then I found out you're the one I've been calling."

You almost choked on your drink.

That's why he sounded so familiar, of course.

"Oh shit." You cursed. "I.. I didn't think this could happen."

"Me neither." Frankie crossed his arms.

"So what now?" You asked.

He shrugged, his expressions somewhat lead you to believe he's a little disappointed. "I stop calling you, and.. we pretend this ever happened. And.. I'm sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable during our.. yeah."

"That's it?" Now you're a little disappointed.

"Is that...not what you want?" Frankie asked.

You put your glass down. "I don't know, I was hoping to meet you in person. Get to know you.."

"Knowing what I like in bed isn't enough for you, sweetheart?" He joked.

"That's not what I meant!" You laughed, "I didn't know who you were or what you looked like, but I liked you anyway. And now that I know who you are... I kinda like you more."

Frankie stepped closer and trapped you between his arms. "I'm actually glad it's you -- panicked for a little bit, but now I'm glad."

Laughing, you and Frankie stared at each other. It was definitely him.

"That is a very good mustache you have."

"Mm." He hummed. "Mind if I kiss you?"

"Are they looking?"

Frankie glanced outside. "Yes. Do you care?"

"No."

"Good."

[gracie7209]

Mood board by the lovely, wonderful, and insanely talented @wildemaven

Complete!

Amaryllis Masterlist

Triple Frontier AU

Pairings: Frankie x f!reader, Tom x wife!Reader

A/N: (Reader is of Hispanic descent and is originally from Cuba, but moved at a fairly young age. There are mentions of some ethnic traditions/customs as well etc) This started as a Waitress AU that I completely lost control of and it has now become THIS lol I’ve posted snippets, but have been working on this for the better part of 2 years and I was determined to see it through. Originally had Ana De Armas as a face claim for Reader which is why the character is Cuban. No physical descriptions other than Reader has a light accent.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, smut, fluff, heavy angst, drinking, there are some heavy topics here so please heed chapter warnings, domestic violence, Tom is a piece of SHIT, cheating, infidelity, oral (f & m receiving), pregnancy, pregnant sex, maybe slight lactation kink?? fingering, unprotected PIV sex, therapy mentions, childbirth mentioned (no description), first time (with Tom 🤢 but necessary to the story), Tom is just literally the fucking worst, but Frankie is here to make it all better, leaving out some things so as not to completely spoil the plot. Will update each chapter with more specific warnings

Description:

As a sheltered wife to an emotionally abusive husband, you find yourself in an impossible situation when you learn that you’re pregnant. Up until now, you were content with the way things were, but a child didn’t deserve this life that had been chosen for you. What little outlook you had on life was as good as gone; But then a chance meeting in an unlikely place finds you potentially looking toward a very different future.

That is, until it’s all ripped away from you.

How far are you willing to go to keep a promise you made as a child? And how much are you willing to sacrifice to protect the ones you love most?

A/N: This fic is complete, just doing some finishing touches. There are 12 chapters and an epilogue. Chapter lengths range any where from 1k-9k words. Also, I just have to give my thanks to @just-here-for-the-moment Who basically held my hand and guided me throughout this entire process. I genuinely mean it that I don’t believe I ever would’ve finished this story if it wasn’t for her. Claire you are a Godsend and I appreciate you more than you know!

*******

*Chapters containing smut will be labeled with 🔥

Drabble

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 - Wednesday

Chapter 3 - It’s a…!

Chapter 4 - Tom

Chapter 5 - It’s Been Awhile

Chapter 6 - Want 🔥

Chapter 7 - The Mission

Chapter 8 - The Call

Chapter 9 - The Return 🔥

Chapter 10 - Safe House

Chapter 11 - Stay 🔥

Chapter 12 - Home

Epilogue

A/N: I don’t have an official tag list, but if you would like to be tagged, just let me know!

[mylostloversbookmarks]

Hello lovely lady - I'm obsessed with these prompts - how about ❛ you’re leaving already? ❜ for Frankie?? <3

I only pray, Don't fall away from me

Summary – You wake up in an all too familiar bedroom and things don’t quite go as expected...

Word count ~ 2.3K

Warnings/Tags 18+ only. Minors dni. Typical canon language, a lil touch of angst (wouldn’t be like me hehe) arguing, mentions of abandonment, hurt feelings, possible reconciliation, soft/Frankie, pleading/Frankie

A/N ~ Hello, my lovely! Thank you so much for sending me this prompt, and I apologise that it has taken me 3 business years to respond, lol. I hope you enjoy...

Also, a huge thank you and cuddle to my two angels @darkroastjoel and @cutesyscreenname for reading and encouraging me to post. I love you both.

Divider credit to ~ @saradika

You’re woken to your skin pricking. Unable to focus on anything but how overheated you are. A bright stream of sunlight heats your face as you faintly register the sound of birds chirping in the distance.

This would be a pleasant way to wake up in any other circumstance, but the pounding of blood in your ears, the throbbing pain in your temples and the dryness in your mouth is stealing all the pleasure from the moment.

Slowly coming to as you attempt to stretch your heavy limbs – chasing that achy pleasure of a first thing in the morning stretch – but your movements are stopped abruptly. Your brain lurches into alertness and you’re suddenly very aware of the long limbs tangled with your own and the hot breath dancing lightly against the soft skin of your cheek.

“Fuck,” you whisper internally, cursing your weak will power for allowing you to wind up in this situation...again.

Taking a deep breath, you pry one eye open. Immediately squinting in pain at the brightness of the large room. Allowing your tired eyes to adjust whilst attempting to wriggle out of the furnace that is currently holding you hostage in his bed.

Managing to slide your legs out from where they are sandwiched between his, reaching up with your free arm to carefully remove his from where it was resting over your bare chest. Staying absolutely still until the light snoring resumes.

Once completely sure there is slim chances of your jostled movements waking him, you slither gently out of the queen-sized bed and silently gather your purse and clothes from where they where strewn over the floor, furniture and with a deep pang of mortification your lacy underwear from atop the bedside lampshade.

Padding down the hall to the bathroom to quickly splash some cold water on your face and chest in an attempt to cool down. You considered jumping in the shower but the last thing you wanted was to risk waking him. Spying a bottle of Listerine in the cabinet above the sink and take the opportunity to rinse your mouth, suppressing a gag at the overpowering minty-alcohol flavour that clings to your taste buds.

Dressing quickly, thankful that last night’s catch up with the girls was only intended to be a casual dinner with a few drinks, so you had worn a casual flowy black linen t-shirt dress and a pair of strappy sandals. At least with this outfit, it wasn’t going to be completely obvious to the outside world that you were, in fact, doing the ‘walk of shame’.

With hesitation, you dare to look at your reflection in the vanity mirror, thankful you had managed to remove what little makeup that had survived the night, only the slightest smudge of mascara still remained around your tired eyes.

Digging in your purse in the hopes of finding the hair tie you used to tame your wild hair back into a loose bun at the nape of your neck last night but coming up short. With a sigh you settle for your sunglasses, pushing them to the crown of your head to keep your hair out of your eyes.

Creeping out of the bathroom, shoes in hand, you head down the hall towards the living area. Too busy scrolling on your phone attempting to find an uber, you trip on the crumpled hall matt which sends you clattering to the floor.

"Oh, for fuck sake," you curse a little louder than necessary.

Wincing as you hear a groggy voice calling your name from behind the bedroom doer which you had left slightly ajar, afraid the click of the door closing would waken him.

"Are you alright?" the gravelly voice called again, sounding like it is growing closer.

" Uh yeah, I'm fine, I just tripped," You explain quickly, embarrassment colouring your tone.

Racing to pack the contents of your purse back to their rightful places, you hear the creak of the bedroom door and footsteps making their way towards you. Glancing at your phone willing the little spinning circle to load a car, but it just continues to spin. Why the hell is there no ubers in this area?!

The footsteps come to a halt behind you, and despite how hard you try, you cannot help the way your shoulders slump in defeat. Knowing that the conversation you were trying so desperately to avoid is inevitable now.

Turning to face him, the Smile that pulls at your still swollen lips comes of its own accord. He’s tousled, with his hair adorably messy, and his eyes squinting from the morning light. He’s wearing only a pair of sleep shorts, and you can’t help but acknowledge that, despite everything, he’s undeniably attractive. You mentally chastise yourself for not learning from past experiences with this man.

"Hi Frankie," you say shyly, unable to meet his eyes.

"Morning amorcita " he responds quietly, you can feel his eyes studying you intently.

"Don't do that, don't call me that okay?" You said bitterly.

He ignores you completely. Glancing at your fully dressed form and your bag slung over your shoulder.

" You're leaving already? " His voice is low with disappointment, eyes pleading for you to stay.

“Yes, I am leaving Frankie, I told you the last time that this couldn’t happen again!” You half shout, exasperated you all but rip the sunglasses of your head and run your fingers roughly through your tatted hair.

“And yet here you are. We always end up here Amor, why are you fighting this?” he reasoned, and you could see he was trying is best to control his temper, but you just didn’t have it in you anymore.

You could feel the rage bubbling in your stomach, your hands felt clammy and your neck was damp with sweat.

“Because you left me Frank! You fucking left me and I didn’t know if I would ever see you again.,” you screamed the words at him without even really knowing what you were saying.

You have wanted to say those words to him for so long but never had the guts to speak them aloud. Now they were out, hanging in the air like a thunderous storm waiting to break. The room fell silent, the tension thickening with each passing second. You couldn’t believe you let those words escape your lips, but there was no taking them back now.

Frankie’s face contorted with a mixture of surprise, hurt and regret. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, struggling to find the right response.

“I never wanted to hurt you. I had to go, and it tore me apart, but I owed Santi and I thought it was the right thing to do at the time." he finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, stop it! Don’t bring Santiago into this. You know he would have understood if you said no, but you didn’t! Don’t pretend that you went for anyone but yourself. You...you didn’t even say goodbye,”

“Your right. I was selfish I know and I’m sorry, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. It wasn’t fair to you,” he replied, his gaze finally meeting your tear-filled eyes.

“I never meant to cause you pain.”

“You think an apology makes everything okay?” you snapped, your anger reaching a precipice.

“Do you have any idea how much I struggled to get over you? To move on with my life?”

Frankie’s shoulders slumped, his remorse becoming more evident. “I didn’t expect you to wait for me. When I got back, I thought it would be better for both of us if I just disappeared.”

“Better for who?” you asked, tears threatening to spill over. “You didn’t consider how I would feel, how much it would hurt to have someone I cared about disappear without a word.”

He took a step closer reaching out tentatively as if wanting to comfort you, but you instinctively backed away. His hurt expression only fuelled your frustration.

“I loved you, Frankie. Fuck I still love you,” you admit, your voice choked with emotion. “And I have tried so hard to forget about you, to move forward, but every time you come back into my life, I can’t help but be drawn back in again and again.”

Frankie’s expression softened, and he looked like he wanted to say something, but he seemed to be grappling with his own internal conflict.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you said, wiping away a tear that escaped the corner of your eye. “I can’t keep falling into this vicious cycle with you. It’s not healthy for either of us.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of the emotions in the room was suffocating. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

“Goodbye, Frankie,” you said finally, your voice steady but laced with sadness. Without giving him a chance to respond, you turned on your heel and walked towards the front door. Leaving him standing there in the midst of the shattered pieces of what was once your relationship.

“Please, wait” he croaked; the tears brimming his eyes mirrored your own. As he caught you on the doorway, his hand gently wrapped around your wrist, his thumb stroking back and forth.

“Amorcito, I love you. I cannot lose you again. Por favor.” He pleaded, tears flowing freely. “Can we please talk, I’ll make breakfast?” He asked desperately gesturing to the kitchen behind him.

It felt like hours passed as you stood in the doorway, head at war with your heart. You know you should leave, hold your ground and walk away for good this time. You knew this would only end up hurting in the long run.

“Okay,” you replied, your voice softening despite the turmoil in your heart. His touch and the sincerity in his eyes made it impossible to turn away from him completely. With a mix of hesitation and hope, you allowed him to lead you back inside and to the kitchen.

As Frankie scrambled to make breakfast, you found yourself sitting at his dining table, lost in your thoughts. The memories of your past with him flooded your mind, and you couldn’t help but remember the good times – the laughter, the shared dreams, and the undeniable connection that you still felt with him. But those memories where now overshadowed by pain.

Frankie placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of you, but you found it hard to eat, your appetite suppressed by the emotional whirlwind surrounding you. He sat across from you, fidgeting with his own food, seemingly at a loss for words.

Finally you broke the silence, unable to bear the tension any longer. “Frankie, we can’t just pretend like everything is okay and go back to the way things were. It’s not that simple.”

He sighed, looking down at his plate. “I know and I don’t expect it to be. But can we at least try to talk about what happened and see if there’s any chance for us to move forward?”

You thought for a moment, contemplating whether this conversation would lead to more heartache or if it could bring some closure. “Fine, but no more avoiding the difficult questions,” you said firmly.

Frankie nodded, his eyes locked on yours in a mix of vulnerability and determination. “You deserve an explanation, and I’m ready to give you one. I thought leaving was the right thing to do for both of us at the time. When I got back, I was so fucked up I didn’t want to burden you with my problems, and I didn’t want to hold you back from pursuing your own dreams,”

“But Frankie, we were a team,” you interjected, your voice wavering. “We supported each other through thick and thin. You where my partner in everything. When you left, it felt like a part of me was missing.”

He swallowed hard his throat tight with emotion. “I should have come to you, told you I was leaving...said goodbye. And I will regret that for the rest of my life.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his heartfelt confession, You could see in his eyes that he meant every word that was pouring from his beautiful mouth. But you know that rebuilding the trust that you once had in him would take a lot of time and effort.

“Frankie, I still love you, I don’t think I ever really stopped loving you, but love isn’t enough to fix what’s broken between us,” you admitted. “We need to figure out if we can move forward without repeating the same mistakes.”

He nodded solemnly, taking your hand across the table. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right, to earn back your trust. I can’t lose you...not again.”

The pain in his words struck a chord deep in your heart, and you could feel your resolve weakening. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but a part of you wanted to believe that people could change and grow.

“I need time to think,” You said softly, gently removing your hand from his. “This is going to take time, I wasn’t expecting this to happen and I’m so hungover,” You sighed a breathy laugh into your hands as you rub your temples vigorously.

“Oh that’s right, I interrupted your sneaking out didn’t I?” Frankie gave his own chuckle in response.

In that moment, you saw a snippet of the man that you fell for all those years ago and thought to yourself that your Frankie might still be in there after all.

[pedroscurls]

Third Time’s A Charm (Part 13).

Character(s): Frankie “Catfish” Morales, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Victoria, Reader (female, second person POV)  Summary: You and Frankie move forward together, while Victoria still looms in the background. Word Count: 2,568 Author's Note: I wanted to write just a fluffy chapter because our bby boy deserves to be happy lol (i mean look at that smile!!!)  Warning: None.

A week later and Frankie had slowly started to move more of his things into your apartment. It was easy how well you both slipped back into routine, almost like no time had passed at all. Every night and every morning, he would make sure to express his gratitude in ways that you couldn’t even imagine, and each time, he left you a complete mess of yourself, always panting, legs shaky, and unable to say anything else but “fuck”. 

Aside from the sex, though, you had missed everything about him. You had hoped that you and Frankie would get another chance to do this again, to be together again, but you had lost hope when he had gotten married. He was separated from Victoria, already in the process of speaking with a lawyer to settle on the divorce. At a time that might have seemed stressful, Frankie was the actual opposite. He seemed lighter, like the weight on his shoulders had finally been lifted. 

And after Frankie broke the news to Victoria, you still had your job, but every time you went to work, you felt like any day could have been your last. Part of you wanted to tell Frankie, to finally come clean as to why you had kept your distance for more than a year, but another part of you didn’t want to bring up something that would only anger him. 

“Hey,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms. “What are you thinking about?”

“Hm?” you answered, looking up at him and snuggling even further into him. “Nothing.”

“Liar.” Frankie chuckled. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

“Just thinking.” 

“You regretting this?” he asked honestly.

“What?” you shook your head and sat up on the couch, bringing your legs underneath you as you turned to face him. “I just– I still can’t believe it, that we’re here.”

Frankie nodded, moving an arm at the back of the couch as he looked over at you. “Me too,” he admitted. “Keep feeling like I’m gonna wake up and this is all gonna be a dream.”

You smiled to yourself. You knew exactly how he felt. You would be lying if you said that you weren’t waiting for the other shoe to drop, to have the universe throw a wrench in your relationship with Frankie (yet again), but for some reason, this time felt right. 

“I’ve missed this, missed you,” you said, reaching for his hand and placing it in your lap. You gently played with his fingers, dropping your eyes to your lap. “I thought– I didn’t think we’d get another chance at this after… After everything.”

“Funny how life works, huh?” Frankie said, pulling his hand from yours. He sighed contentedly and lied back, resting his head on your lap as he looked up at you. You smiled to yourself and ran your fingers gently through his curls, seeing his eyes fall shut. 

“I love you, Frankie.” you whispered. “I never stopped loving you.”

Frankie smiled, placing his hands on his chest. “Hearing those words coming from you… Oh, hermosa, I haven’t felt this good in so long.” 

You leaned down and pecked his lips. When you pulled back, he was staring at you with soft eyes, the same brown eyes that had lured you in the moment you met him. 

Frankie couldn’t look away. He was telling the truth; he hadn’t felt this good, not even on his wedding day with Victoria. While that entire situation was stressful to even think about, he just couldn’t wait until everything was officially over. It had taken him a complete week to realize that the things she had said were only said because she was hurt; Frankie had to take responsibility though. He shouldn’t have married her in the first place, shouldn’t have committed to her when his heart was elsewhere. 

It had always been you. For Frankie, it was always you. When you left for California, he thought you were better off, thought you were going to find someone better than him. California was always your dream and he couldn’t get in the way of that so it was a mutual decision to end a relationship before allowing distance to ruin it, but he wondered… Constantly, he wondered what life would have been like if you both decided to have just stayed together. 

And you both knew… You both knew it would have worked. 

But again, you were both too scared to make that commitment. Your relationship with Frankie had been the best you had ever experienced and neither of you wanted to ruin that, so ending it before it could even get to a point of no return led you both to today, back to each other. 

“We both always believed things would work out, didn’t we?” you said.

Frankie nodded. “I’ll admit I did lose hope there for a moment…”

“Me too,” you admitted. “I didn’t think we’d ever get another chance at this.”

Frankie then sat up and pulled you onto his lap, causing you to squeak in surprise. His hands immediately went to run along your thighs as he stared up at you. Your hands moved to wrap around his shoulders, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“You’re my dream come true, hermosa,” he whispered, leaning up to gently peck your lips. “Life with me–”

“Is an adventure,” you interrupted. “I know what I’m signing up for, Frankie. You don’t have to warn me.”

“I just–” he sighed. “Still have a lot of baggage that I have yet to deal with.”

“Then we deal with it together, one at a time.” 

Frankie’s eyes softened, biting his lower lip. “You still want this? Want me?”

“More than ever, Frankie.” you leaned in to rest your forehead against his, sighing quietly. “I know that it’s not gonna be easy, but I’m in this. All of it. No matter how hard it gets, I’m here.” 

“I love you,” he whispered. “More than you’ll ever know.” 

“Oh, I think I’ve got an idea,” you laughed quietly. “You got me, Frankie. You always have.” 

Frankie nodded and buried his face against the side of your neck, his hands moving to wrap around your waist as he pulled you flush against him. He held you like this as his mind raced of endless thoughts. His mind drifted often, but you kept him grounded. The urge to relapse, to forget and numb the painful thoughts were becoming less and less frequent when you were around, and even when his mind would drift, you were able to catch him just at the right moment before he fell even deeper. 

You had promised before that you would always help him out of a rut, always be there to pull him out of it, to remind him to keep going and even now, you hadn’t broken that promise. If he wasn’t thinking about Victoria and the things she had said a week ago, he thought about Tom, and if he wasn’t thinking about Tom, he thought about the handful of horrific things he had done while he was still in the service. 

Frankie really needed to talk to someone about this, about his thoughts, about what lingered in the shadows whenever he was alone. He was sure that Benny, Santiago, and Will experienced exactly what he was experiencing, but he wasn’t sure if talking to them about it would even help. If anyone knew how important it was to talk about it, it was Will. So, he made a mental note for himself to reach out to the other man once things settled down. 

“I’m so lucky I’ve got you,” he said, his voice muffled against the crook of your neck. 

“I’d say I’m lucky too.” You kissed his cheek and stood from his lap, taking his hand in yours as you motioned towards the hallway. “Let’s go to bed?” 

Frankie nodded, standing up from the couch and scooping you up into his arms. He smiled to himself as you buried your face against him, your arms immediately coming up around his neck. 

“Showing off those muscles, huh?” you teased.

“Only for you, baby.”

—

Victoria didn’t know what to do, or rather what she could do. She had always found you threatening, always felt so jealous of you and your bond with Frankie and the rest of the guys. She should have known, shouldn’t have pressured herself and Frankie to get married when she knew that he was still hung up on you (despite him reassuring her that there was nothing there). 

She should have known, should have seen all of the red flags before committing herself to Frankie. And now, here she was… Heartbroken and on the path to divorce. 

Victoria believed that you were the reason for all of this, for everything that had gone wrong in her marriage with Frankie. She thought she had gotten rid of you a year ago and it went well… for a while, until Frankie started spiraling. He had grown distant and he barely slept, always on constant edge and truthfully, Victoria didn’t want to deal with it. She had grown tired of him coming home late, falling asleep on the couch, leaving the house before she could even wake up. This past year with Frankie had been difficult and it certainly didn’t help when she found out that he was on probation from work because of cocaine. 

He had told her that he was struggling, that his mind just wouldn’t shut off, and that when he slept all he could see was the people he let down, the people he hurt, the people that died because of him. To Frankie, cocaine was a simple solution to his struggles and Victoria just couldn’t understand why. She didn’t think she would ever truly understand what Frankie had to deal with, the things he had to see or do, but all she wanted was for him to get better so that they can just be that happy, married couple like when they first got married. 

She yelled at him. A lot. Victoria knew where the root of her anger was stemming from, but Frankie was an easy target. After all, he was the reason why they had been having marital issues in the first place. Even now, Victoria didn’t think anything was her fault. She was used to getting her way and now, she felt hopeless. She didn’t have Frankie anymore; she wasn’t happy… 

Victoria was absolutely miserable and she was determined to make your life a living hell. So, the day Frankie left after telling her the bad news, she was quick to call her friend at the university. She spewed hateful lies about you, more than eager to talk badly about you. Her friend promised her that he would handle it, taking these matters seriously, which was one “positive” thing to come out of this. At least you would be without a job, more specifically, a job that you considered to be something you had always dreamt of. 

If you could take away the one thing Victoria loved, then so could she. 

It had been a week since Frankie let her know that he wanted a divorce and as she was walking into a grocery store while on the phone with her friend from the university, she spotted Santiago in the ice cream aisle. After letting her friend know that she had to go and that she was grateful that he was going to speak with you later that week, Victoria had begun walking towards Santiago. He had always been so friendly, so charming, and she was sure that he was aware of what was going on. 

Maybe… Maybe if she could turn the guys on you, then maybe she could have another chance to get Frankie back.

“Santiago,” she called out, smiling. “Having trouble with choosing ice cream?” Victoria teased.

Santiago tightened his jaw at the sound of her voice. All he could think about now when he looked at her was the words she had threatened you with over a year ago. It surprised him that the rest of the guys never noticed, but you could be convincing if you wanted to. 

“Vic,” he said quietly. “Yeah, there are just so many options.” Santiago tried to remain neutral, tried to be polite, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as the seconds passed. 

“Well, you can never go wrong with Rocky Road.” Victoria laughed, looking over at the other man. “Hey, I was… I was meaning to reach out to you, but I’m sure you heard.”

Santiago nodded. “I did.”

“I just miss him,” she sighed. “It’s not the same without him.”

“Right,” he replied. “I’m sure Frankie’s hurting too.”

“Is he?” Victoria spat, rolling her eyes. “I’m sure he’s warming up to her.”

“Excuse me?” Santiago turned to face her; he knew exactly who she was referring to and he didn’t like it. Was Victoria this oblivious? Surely, she should have known how close you were with him and the rest of the guys. 

“Oh come on, Santiago. We all know that she’s with Frankie. I mean, she’s always been all over him,” she lied. “Always wanting more with a married man.”

“Soon to be divorced,” Santiago replied, gritting his teeth. 

“Maybe, maybe not,” Victoria shrugged. “I’m just saying… She’s never had any boundaries and–”

“Alright,” Santiago interrupted, shaking his head. “We’re gonna stop that right now.”

“I’m sorry?” she asked, confused. 

Santiago said your name, noticing the way Victoria tightened her jaw and narrowed her eyes, almost out of instinct at the mention of your name. “She’s a good woman, a damn good person too.”

“You don’t know her like I do.”

“I don’t?” Santiago laughed. “I think I know her better than you and quite frankly, if Frankie’s with her right now… Then, good for him.” Santiago knew exactly where Frankie was; in fact, the rest of the guys already knew that you and Frankie were slowly rekindling your relationship and they all agreed that it had been such a long time since they had seen Frankie like this. 

Victoria gasped, taking a step back. “Y–You don’t mean that!” 

“I know what you did, Vic. I mean, she has always been by our side and then you have the nerve to threaten her just because you were afraid to lose Frankie?”

She feigned confusion, shaking her head. “I don’t know what she told you, but that’s not true.”

“No?” Santiago asked, tilting his head. “What kind of person threatens someone else to stay away from her group of friends? And you know, she kept that shit to herself for over a year because she didn’t want any of us to think differently of you.” He took a step back and looked at Victoria from top to bottom with clear disgust in his features. “If it were me, I’d have told us and Frankie the minute it happened. You don’t deserve her kindness, especially since you haven’t shown any ounce of it to her or to Frankie.”

“But–”

“We’re done here. Frankie’s a good man and she’s a good woman. You, on the other hand? I can’t say the same.” Santiago turned on his heel, starting to walk away from Victoria before he stopped and called over his shoulder. “I wish you the best, Vic, but you never deserved Frankie.”

---

Part 14.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed, @tanzthompson, @casa-boiardi. @bitchwitch1981. @painitemoondust, @pedritosdarling, @vanemando15, @kittenlittle24​, @gracie7209​, @your-voice-is-mellifluous​

[juletheghoul]

The Date

AN: It's wild to me, that whenever I have a writers block - the cure is inevitably to write a pussy-drunk Francisco Morales. This is a sequel to The Party, couldn't leave these two without another meeting. I'm trying to reintegrate myself onto tumblr and to continue to work on my many projects - quick thank you to my girl @wheresarizona for beta-ing this fever dream and for generally being supportive and amazing. Hope you enjoy xox.

Pairing; Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings;  piv sex (wrap it up), swearing, dirty talk, Frankie eats pussy like the champion he is, let me know if I missed anything.

Word count; 2k

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist

----

It had been months since your interlude at the party Maureen had dragged you to, months since you’d let the gorgeous, married man fuck you in the back of his truck, and if you were honest with yourself - you never actually thought he’d follow through and call you. But he did. 

He’d called. 

It had happened a few months later, after a particularly rough day, and had you not brought your phone into the bathroom with you while you ran your bath, you might have missed it. It rang loudly as you shut off the water, your annoyed sigh melding with the sweet-smelling steam in the air at the thought that your overeager coworker might be calling you after hours. 

The sigh turned into a gasp at the flash of his name across your screen, and that roller coaster feeling in your gut froze you in place; it almost made you miss the call. 

“Hello?” Your voice echoed through the small room, accompanied by the steady drip of water into the warm bath. 

“Hey-” His voice sent a shiver down your spine, the sound of it in your ear bringing your thoughts back to his truck with crystalline clarity.

“Hi-” You repeated the greeting, now with a smile on your face. “I’ll be honest - I never actually thought you’d call.” Your hand toyed with the towel on the counter. 

“I didn’t actually think you’d answer.” He laughed, the sound rich and warm and so welcome. “I thought you might have forgotten about me, figured you’d deleted my number.”

“Does this call mean that you’re single?” The phone was cradled between your shoulder and your ear in order to begin disrobing - the bath water wouldn’t stay hot for long. 

“Yes, finalized everything a couple of weeks ago.” You could hear keys jingling, and your thoughts brought you back to the truck again, the steam on the windows and the bruise you’d worn on your thigh for days. “Think you’d maybe want to grab dinner with me or something?” His tone suggested that those same memories followed him as well, and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Yes, or something.” He laughed now, too, “How about Friday?” You shucked off your sweats as you spoke, eager to submerge yourself into an epsom salt oasis. 

“Definitely works for me. Send me your address, and I’ll pick you up. Can’t wait to see you again. Have a great night.” And with that, the day suddenly didn’t seem so bad. 

-

It had been a long time since he’d gone out on a first date, a long time since he’d been excited about the prospect of one, but here he was - nervously rubbing at his denim-clad thighs as he walked up to her front door. He’d been nervous about the whole thing as he knocked softly, worrying briefly that maybe he’d misunderstood the meaning of the outing. Maybe she hadn’t been flirting with him over the phone - maybe she didn’t want to date a recently divorced man. 

It all went out the window when she opened the door, her pupils dilating that same way as their first encounter, her pretty lips stretched into a gorgeous smile. 

“You’re on time.” She breathed it out, moving aside for him to come in, and he followed. 

“I was eager, you look amazing -” He frowned suddenly, annoyed with himself. “I should have gotten you flowers-” He tapped at his pockets as though he might tap them into existence. 

“Oh-” she laughed, the sound tinkling in his ears, “don’t worry about that I wasn’t expecting any.” She waved away his concern, the movement of her dress drawing his eye. 

“I still should have, I’ll make it up on the second date.” The same tinkling as she checked a mirror hanging in her foyer.

“Haven’t even left for our first date and already planning the second?” She smiled at him shyly, the air between them charged. 

“Oh yes, I’m not done with you yet.” He looked her up and down, bold and unashamed. 

–

He looked just as handsome as you remembered; tall and strong with those lovely brown eyes and that gorgeous dimple. His hair had grown out a bit, curling over the tops of his ears and your fingers itched to reach out and thread through them. 

You never made it to the restaurant, you never even made it to your bed.

His tongue was insistent, tasting every inch of your mouth as he devoured you while his hands held you tightly against him. First at your shoulders, slipping between the straps of your dress and your heated skin to expose every inch he could. Then to your waist, pulling you close to his body, solid muscle tense under your hands.

They moved further down, bunching up the bottom of your dress so he could reach under and grab greedy handfuls of your ass, feeding a groan directly into your mouth once he made contact. His kiss moved to your neck, open-mouthed at your pulse point.

“Lay back.” He pulled your earlobe between his teeth softly, sending a shiver down your spine and making you throb. He guided you to your sofa, the hungry look on his face driving a hot spike of arousal into your belly. He pooled the dress up, curling his fingers around the waistband of your panties, and you lifted your hips to help him with a smile. “Been thinking about this since the truck.” He licked his lips as he pushed your thighs up and apart, his gaze making you drip.

He dove in like a man lost in the desert, dove in like you were a freshwater spring, groaning into your skin with his nose pressed against your mound in his need to taste every inch of your pert little clit. The itch to run your fingers through his curls was sated with a pant, the soft strands slipping through your fingers as your nails scratched reverently at his scalp in the soft glow of your quiet living room.

He held your thighs apart with heavy hands, keeping you spread open and pulsing for his mouth, his tongue dipping down to swirl deliciously around the rim of your opening before slipping it in as deep as he could. Desperate, it seemed to taste the very heart of you. He moaned into it, shameless in his enjoyment, before pulling away to adjust himself on the couch. Strings of your arousal tying him to you for a brief moment, the image of which would be burned into your memory to treasure forever. 

“God, baby, you taste so fucking good.” He bit at the meat of your thigh, kissing the lips of your sex as though it were your mouth. It was so fucking erotic, his pussy-drunk expression, hypnotized and starving for it. 

“Don’t tease me, Frankie-“ He dove back in with gusto, wide licks to your clit, and it was almost unfair how quickly he pushed you towards the edge, your stomach clenching the closer you got to nirvana. “Frankie baby, oh god, I’m gonna come-“ his hand moved quickly, and with two thick fingers, he speared into your aching heat. His tongue kept up that perfect rhythm, and after a handful of petting strokes from his fingers - euphoria exploded, radiating out through your veins.

He groaned to feel you clench around his fingers, his tongue never faltering, the breadth of his shoulders keeping your legs open to his assault. 

He was softly kissing your mound when your soul re-entered your body, worshiping at the mouth of your sex. 

“Come up here.” You grabbed at the collar of his shirt, eager to feel him inside again, and for a moment, he resisted.

“I wanna keep eating your pussy.” He palmed your cunt for a moment before he let you pull him toward you. “Can I?” He slotted his hips between yours on your narrow couch, his face shiny with your slick.

“As amazing as that sounds, I want you to fuck me, need you to stretch me open with your big dick like you did before.” You undid his shirt as you kissed him, licking into his mouth to taste yourself. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hands hurriedly undoing his pants to pull his cock out, a loud sigh leaving your lips at the sight of him blushing red and sticky with precome. “Spread open for me, gorgeous.” He leaned back for a moment, his cock grasped in his hand - brow furrowed as he fed it into you achingly slow.

Sweat beaded in your hairline, it coated his chest where you managed to get his shirt open - your gaze moving from the hollow of his throat down to where you were joined - mesmerized at the image of him coating himself in you with every thrust. 

It felt too good to speak - neither of you were able to articulate a word, the only sounds were sharp breaths and pants, the wet plunge of him into your hungry little cunt. He added more force, and it pulled an involuntary moan from somewhere in your throat. 

“I’m close, your tight little pussy is going to make me come.” He sped up a little, and it was much too soon. 

“Wait - wait, baby, not yet.” You wrapped your legs around him, holding him tight to you, and he stopped for a moment - his eyes almost unfocused with lust. “Don’t come yet, I want you to fuck me longer.” You kissed his neck, holding him still, and he pressed his forehead to yours, a gorgeous sigh rewarding your words.

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me, baby - don’t move - I’m so fucking close.” He closed his eyes, holding himself stock still, and you had to fight the urge not to clench around him. Instead, you slid your hands under his open shirt to caress the skin of his back, careful not to jostle him. He took a few steadying breaths before he opened his eyes to look at you, a soft smile on his face. “I’m really glad I called.” He placed kisses around your collarbones like a necklace, pulling your dress down along with the cups of your bra. 

“I’m really glad you did too - oh - that feels really good, Frankie.” Your fingers slid up to hold onto his curls as he took one nipple into his mouth, then the other. His mouth was just as relentless with the sensitive buds as it was between your legs - pulling wave after wave of slick to drip out around him, and before long, he was rocking in and out again.

“I can’t hold still, you feel too good.” He breathed the words into your chest, kissing a path up from your breast to your lips, and then his tongue was in your mouth; he was stealing the breath right out of your lungs. 

His shallow rocking soon became a heavy thrust, his hips pistoning harder than before, and with every press, your mind blanks. Cock-dumb. Euphoria. Heaven.

He reached for your hand blindly, and with what could only be described as desperation, he stuck your fingers into his mouth, moistening them before guiding them down to your clit. There weren’t any words needed, there weren’t any words left in your brain or in your mouth, and it was only a few practised swirls before you were clenching around him with a pained gasp.

“Fuck-“ his voice was guttural, “There it is, fuck baby, I’m gonna come, can I come inside you? Please?” His hips stuttered, and your cunt fluttered from the aftershocks of your orgasm, fluttered at the thought of being filled, and now he was almost whimpering in your ear, and when you breathed out yes Frankie, inside, he seized. 

His hand on your hip squeezed as he ground his come deep inside, replacing that bruise from the first time, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of feeling it tomorrow. 

He breathed deep, face buried in the crook of your neck, and for a moment, there was only peaceful shared breath.

“I haven’t come like that in years.” He was shaky when he pulled up a bit to look at you, his flushed smile almost nervous. 

“Me either.” You smiled back, pushing his sweat-damp hair away from his face before pulling him in for a kiss. “Let’s make it a goal.” He laughed, nerves dissipating one moment at a time. 

“I would be happy to.” 

-

Tag list: @foli-vora @frannyzooey @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @ezrasbirdie @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @softdindjxrin @sherala007 @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @lori-tovar @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @greeneyedblondie44 @maxwell--lord @princessxkenobi @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @stevie75 @readsalot73 @pedrostories @tobealostwanderer @mandocrasis @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @goldielocks2004 @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @hellovanessax @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @mrs-ghuleh @pedritoispunk @studythoreauly @missswriter @pintsizemama @mswarriorbabe80 @a-trial-run-on-paper @la-le-lu @chickadee-djarin @dobbyjen @rosiefridayrogersunday @ajeff855 @anaaaispunk @johnsrevelation @the-witty-pen-name @zombiesnips-blog @quica-quica-quica @sarahjkl82-blog @fan-of-encouragement @queenofthecloudss @mandosmistress @deadhumourist @felicisimor @tuskens-mando @no-droids-on-sunday @sophiefatale2495 @toomanystoriessolittletime @what-iwish-you-knew @pedrostories @athalien @bi-thewayy @literallydontlook @pedrosbrat @gamingaquarius @localddreamers @luxmundee @iamafadedmoon @nakhudanyx @littlemisspascal @grogusmum @recklessworry @heyitmelexie @killyspinacoladas @gothicxbarbie @evildxad @dragonslarimar @spideysimpossiblegirl @chemtrail-mix @maievdenoir @kissasith @breezythesimp @altarsw @artooies-scream @staygolddindjarin @lorosette @softsweetedbeauty @c4psicle @littlemisspascal @yuiopiklmn @ameliaofasgard @squidwell @allthatsleftbehind @just-blogging-around @bbyanarchist @girlofchaos @maddiedrmr @frasmotic @planetariumx @acourtofsnakes @buckybarneshairpullingkink @astoryisaloveaffair @harriedandharassed @swtaura @evelynseventyr @send-me-to-valhalla @shirks-all-responsibilities @androah @alwaysachorusgirl @dindjarinsmut @captain-jebi @gallowsjoker

[daddydindjarin]

The Long and Winding Road Part III: Louisiana

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (no physical description of the Reader given)

Rating: 18+ Mature

Wordcount: 3580

Summary: After stopping at a roadside attraction, you experience a health scare, and Frankie is there to comfort you and patch you up.

A/N: Dividers by @firefly-graphics! Thank you especially to the discord besties for always encouraging me when I post the smallest of peeks, and treating it like it was a treasure. Thank you @chaoticgeminate for reading over it for me!

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Sandra was tired.

Back-to-back doubles had done nothing to improve her sleep schedule, not to mention the ache in her feet and lower back. It didn’t help that she was supposed to be off on Sundays, but she was the only other waitress available to work the diner after Carla called out “sick.” Sandra surmised sick was new code for hung over, but she crawled out of bed at 5am, her uniform still smelling of bacon and eggs from the night before and dragged herself into work.

By the time she was bringing out table 5’s pancakes, the little bell above the door rang out signaling another customer. She smiled as she dropped off the food, letting the group know she would be back, and walked back to the counter to grab the customers and their menus. She almost stopped short at the sight of the handsome man standing in the doorway, smiling at his…friend? Girlfriend? Wife?

The woman was looking back at him, her eyes bright and full of mirth as she said something to the man that caused him to splutter out a laugh, his head shaking. Sandra felt a sense of contentment from them, and she smiled a greeting. “Hey guys, just the two of us?”

The man nodded, and asked for a booth, and she led them to the only one they had left. They sat across from each other, and their orders were quick (coffee- black, hot water for tea, and two orders of chocolate chip waffles), and she left to go put the order in. She watched them from the kitchen, talking animatedly to each other, a rare occurrence for this early in the morning. When she dropped off their drinks, the woman smiled up at her, and thanked her.

“It’s not a problem, dear,” she replied, setting out a canister of creamer and their syrup for when the waffles were done. “Y’all from around here, or just passing through?”

“Just passing through,” the woman responded, flipping open a notebook to check a list that was written on the page. “We’re on our way to Gulfport before leaving the state.”

Sandra nodded, “Gulfport is real nice this time of year, especially since it won’t be too miserable with the heat. You got family down there?”

The woman grinned at her partner, who huffed good naturedly. “No, not quite,” she laughed, closing her book as the man tried to peek at the words. “It’s a surprise for him that I think he’s gonna get a kick out of, but he keeps trying to spoil it for himself.”

The man snorted, sipping his coffee. “I’m gonna find out today anyway, so you might as well tell me.”

“Nope,” she said, the ‘p’ popping as it left her lips. “You’re not getting nothing but the directions from me.”

Sandra chuckled at them, “Well, I hope it’s a good trip. How long y’all been together?”

She realized she made a mistake by the way both people clammed up, the woman stuttering, and the man’s cheeks turning pink. “Oh, we’re- it’s not- we’re just friends.”

To be honest, the answer surprised her. It looked like new love, and an age-old comfortability to her all at once, like two souls destined to come together. Maybe she was reading it wrong, but she didn’t think so, as he watched the woman peek at the man through her lashes when he wasn’t looking, and the way the man’s eyes would drift back to her as if looking for reassurance that she was still there.

She let them be after bringing out their waffles, hoping she didn’t ruin their fun, but it seemed like the awkward moment had passed, and they were back to chatting happily. Hopefully they would realize the way they looked at each other wasn’t “just friends” sooner rather than later, Sandra thought, double-checking table 4’s bill. Sure would save them a whole lot of trouble down the road.

“Okay, we’re about 5 minutes away, and you should see it any second,” you said, leaning forward in your seat, watching the horizon.

Frankie playfully rolled his eyes, but the curiosity was burning a hole in his lungs. You had been talking about this for the better part of two days now, telling him he was going to love it, and you were so excited, he couldn’t tell if it was from the thing- that you still wouldn’t tell him what it was- or for what his reaction was going to be.

It didn’t take long for him to see what you were so excited for, as the sight of a looming rocking chair appeared ahead, and Frankie’s laughter filled the Jeep. “Did you,” he choked out between laughs, looking over at your beaming, pleased face, “really bring us to Gulfport for a roadside attraction?”

“Not just any roadside attraction,” you replied, unbuckling your seatbelt as he pulled into the parking lot, “but the World’s Largest Rocking Chair! A title claimed by many but held by none!”

He laughed at your grandstanding, hopping out of the Jeep to look at this chair that they drove two hours out of the way for. Not too long ago, things like this would have annoyed the hell out of him. He figured he would have been annoyed by some of your asks, but hey, for a $30,000 payout, he could deal with the annoyance. Strangely though, he hadn’t felt annoyed at you once this entire time. You had your habits and tendencies, but so did he, and you never overstepped in any way, and he was somehow finding himself wishing that you would.

He was apparently taking too long being lost in his own thoughts, because suddenly your hand was fitted into his, and you were excitedly pulling him along, the breeze blowing your hair gently, the scent of coconut and cocoa butter surrounding him, his heart squeezing at the way your smaller hand fit so perfectly into his own. He gave you a gentle squeeze, smiling back at your grin and allowed himself to be pulled to a small chain surrounding the massive chair.

It really wasn’t anything to write home about, but in that moment, it was the 8th world wonder, a spectacle to behold, and the two of you were the only souls in the area to experience it. You had this way about you, of making the most mundane things seem extraordinary, and Frankie was overcome with thankfulness that he had agreed to this trip. He let you take his picture in front of the chair, but shrugged off his suggestion that you take a picture as well, telling him that Gabriella would get a kick out of her “tiny papa.”

You both milled about the area for a few more moments until you gleaned all there was to know about the World’s Largest Rocking Chair, and you bid it farewell, pointing the Jeep towards Lake Pontchartrain and the Big Easy.

For the eighth time in the last half hour, Frankie’s eyes drifted from the road to your form in the backseat. The lines in his forehead were deepening with every passing moment, worry seeping from him.

Not long after leaving Gulfport, you had sat forward in your seat, breathing deeply, your eyes squeezed close tightly. He immediately went on red alert, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. “Hey, hey,” he said softly as to not startle you, “what’s going on?”

You didn’t speak for a long moment, and his hand hovered over the hazard lights, ready to pull over, but you waved him off.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m okay,” you reassured him, trying to give him a smile, but it just came out as a grimace. “Just got a migraine. It happens.”

He nodded slowly, still not quite convinced. “Do we need to stop? Is there anything you need me to do?”

You slowly shook your head, pressing your forehead harshly into your palms as if they had the power to take the ache away. “No, it’s okay, it’s-“ You stopped suddenly, clapping your hand over your mouth, and rapping repeatedly on the window with your free hand in a desperate request to pull over. Frankie barely had time to bring the Jeep to a stop on the shoulder before you were falling out of the passenger side door, knees hitting the rough gravel in an uncoordinated landing.  

Frankie gave a shout as you tumbled out of the Jeep, throwing his door open and racing to your side as you heaved into grass. He paid no mind to your half-hearted attempts to apologize and get him to leave you be, instead rubbing a soothing hand on your back with one hand and holding your hair back with the other. When you finally stopped, he felt a wave of relief pass over him, and he smiled gently at you, pulling a well-worn handkerchief from his back pocket.

“Just take it,” he insisted after your first refusal, and you looked up at him with wet eyes, your expression close to…guilt? “You’re okay, hermosa, just breathe.”

The two of you sat by the Jeep for another 5 minutes or so, his hand still rubbing soft circles on your back and he waited for you to indicate that you were ready to go, worry leaving his muscles tense.

“Okay,” you rasped, moving to stand. You didn’t make it far before losing your balance, stumbling into Frankie’s chest. He held you up gently, a firm arm around your waist. “Shit, I’m sorry- jus’ got a little dizzy.”

Frankie hushed you, gripping you a little tighter and helping you to the Jeep. You reached for the passenger side door, but he out maneuvered you, opening the back door instead, and helping you into the backseat. “You need to lie down, hermosa. Sit tight, let me grab the window shades to make it a little darker back here.”

He glanced down at your knees, noticing the bloody welts from where you had hit the gravel, and made a mental note to grab the first aid kit too. It took him just a few moments, and when he came back, you were staring off into the distance, brow furrowed. “You’re gonna get wrinkles if you keep that up,” he joked as he knelt in front of you, trying to ease some of the worry from your brow. His knees cracked as he knelt, the cartilage popping in an unforgiving way, but he ignored it, pulling out the antiseptic wipes. “This is gonna sting a bit, but we need to get these cleaned up.”

You said nothing, but you looked down at him, biting your lip hard enough that Frankie was worried you’d draw blood there too. He made it quick, cleaning the dirt and blood away with military efficiency, deciding that you just needed one band aid on your knee, where a mean piece of gravel had dug in deeper than the rest. When he finished, he leaned forward, gently placing a kiss on the bandage.

Time stopped, and neither of you spoke as he slowly pulled away, heat creeping up his neck. “I- sorry, it’s force of habit,” he managed to get past the lump in his throat. “I’m used to doing this for Gabriella, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

His rambling stopped as you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, a small smile on your lips. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Frankie,” you said. There was still a lot of tension across your forehead, but you smiled at him with a brightness that he had come to expect, and to look forward to. Except…it still seemed as though you weren’t quite looking at him. “I think it’s incredibly sweet. You’re a good dad, and old habits die hard. I should be the one apologizing, truly.”

Frankie shook his head, standing up, and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “For getting sick? Hermosa, it happens.” His hand rested on the crook of your shoulder, cupping the back of your neck as he tried to pour every bit of comfort he could into the touch. “Are you going to be okay for the rest of the drive? We’re about an hour away from New Orleans, but we can stop anytime.”

You shook your head, and was he mistaken? Did you lean into his touch? “No,” you replied, sighing, “I’ll be okay. I already booked us a room at the Dauphine Orleans Hotel, so we can sleep on real beds.”

He nodded, but you didn’t acknowledge him, and he reluctantly moved away from you to put up the window shades. “Aright, but you’re laying down in the backseat. It’s just highway so there’s nothing you’re going to miss on the ride. I’ll let you know when we’re getting close so you can see us coming into the city, but you try to rest.”

You had given him a sarcastic, “Yes, sir!” complete with a two-finger salute, but you hadn’t fought him, which told him how badly you must really feel if you weren’t willing to stubbornly argue with him. He watched as you scooted back into the backseat, and he gingerly lifted your legs so you could curl up into a ball, your cheek resting on your hands. He watched you take a few deep breaths, probably trying to stave off the nausea, and when he was sure you were okay, he closed the door, loping back to the driver’s side to get back on the road.

That had been 45 minutes ago, and he knew you needed to get up soon if you were going to watch the city grow closer. Worry gnawed at his spine, and his teeth pulled at the inside of his cheek, his eyes constantly drifting back and forth, debating on the best course of action. Instinct told him to let you rest, but he wanted to see your eyes light up once you really got into the city. He already felt slightly guilty about letting you sleep through the Bayou Sauvage National Forest, but he swore he’d make it up to you when you felt better. Soon the city would start showing in the distance, and he knew you’d want to see that.

He gently called your name, and when he didn’t get a response, he reached into the backseat to shake your leg. “Hermosa, do you want to be awake when we come into New Orleans?”

He smirked at your grunt, patting your leg in commiseration. He felt you sit up, and glanced into the rearview mirror to see you rubbing your eyes, blinking against the sun. “Does your head feel any better?” He asked. You were avoiding his gaze, and he could tell it wasn’t just from looking around.

“Yeah, I feel loads better. Sometimes my migraines just hit fast like that.” You shrugged, peeling back the window shades to see better. “I’m sorry you had to watch me hurl. You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it.”

“It wasn’t a problem.” Frankie frowned, the corners of his lips pulling downwards. “Is there anything in particular that causes it?”

You shrugged, “Nah, they just happen. Scooch.”

“Scooch?”

You put one hand on his shoulder and the other on the passenger seat and proceeded to lift yourself up and over the center console, jostling Frankie slightly as you awkwardly crawled into the front seat. Plopping down in your designated spot, you wiggled in the seat slightly, getting comfortable. “Much better,” you grinned at him. “So, where are we?”

“We are on I-10, about 15 minutes away from the city. Keep your eyes up ahead, and you’ll start to see the skyscrapers in the distance.”

You let out a noise of excitement. “I have always wanted to see New Orleans. Kinda bummed we won’t be here for Mardi Gras. That would have been so cool.”

“Yeah, Mardi Gras in the Big Easy is pretty fun. Lots of trouble to get into, that’s for sure,” Frankie winked at you, before adding, “Plus, those beads are cheap, and you get a show for ‘em.”

You whacked his arm, scoffing as he laughed. “Frankie, you’re secretly a pervert!”  You teased, putting on airs. “My delicate sensibilities can’t handle this.”

Frankie snorted, glancing over at you. You seemed to be feeling better. Your eyes were bright again as you looked out the window, bouncing between taking in the suburbs surrounding New Orleans and staring in wonder at the growing skyline. “Sure, says the woman who jumped into a freezing river and sleeps in the tiniest shorts in the world.”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t like it,” you said offhandedly, and Frankie chose not to give any information either way.

New Orleans was everything you dreamed of, and vastly larger than you were expecting. You weren’t exactly naïve enough to think of New Orleans as some utopia of a city- you were born and raised in Tampa, not a small town by any means of the word. But Tampa didn’t have this old world feel that seemed to be around every corner in the French Quarter. It was still early afternoon, and Frankie had assured you things would pick up once night fell, but there was already so much to see.

As you and Frankie walked into the lobby with your suitcases after leaving the Jeep with the valet, you stuck close to his side, not wanting to lose him in the milling crowd. Finding an empty reservation window, you instinctively grabbed his hand to pull him to the counter, just to make sure he didn’t get separated. And if you told yourself that enough times, it would be true.

“Hello,” the person manning the counter greeted, their name tag reading Hal. “How can I help you today?”

“Hello, Hal!” You smiled, pulling out your phone to show them your reservation confirmation. “We have a room for a few days, just checking in!”

“Okay, no problem, let’s just get your information pulled up here.”

Hal worked quickly, confirming your name and credit card number on file, along with your driver’s license, tapping away at the computer. The tack tack tacks slowed down as the lines between his eyebrows deepened, and you craned your neck to see what was going on. “Everything okay there, Hal?”

They smiled tightly at you, making a few more clicks, and you felt Frankie at your back, offering silent support. “So, I’m showing here that you booked two rooms in the Carriage House, right next to each other.”

You blinked, nodding slowly. “Yes?”

They frowned then, eyes darting from the computer screen to your face. “I’m not too sure what happened, but one of your rooms was double booked so we only have the one room that you booked open, as the other guests are already checked in.”

Matching his frown, you quickly calculated the difference in your head. “Okay, that’s…not ideal, but these things happen. Do you have any rooms with double beds open?”

Shaking their head, they resumed clicking on the computer. “No, I’m afraid the only room available is the one Carriage House room. There’s a convention in town, and we’re booked up.” You could see how tense they were, waiting for you to explode, but you weren’t upset with them. Like you had said, these things happen, and it was nothing worth getting too upset over.

You looked at Frankie over your shoulder. “Is it okay? Or do you want to try to find somewhere else?”

His brow furrowed in confusion, and he leaned forward so you could hear him over the din, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. You hoped he didn’t notice the shiver it sent up your spine. “Why wouldn’t it be, okay?”

“Because the Carriage House only has one king bed?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Hermosa, I can almost guarantee that the bed is bigger than the pop up. You’ll have plenty of room to try to kick me while you push all the blankets to the floor.” He winked at you, and you could feel your ears turning pink. “Unless you'd like me to go somewhere else? I know you were excited about this place, and I can always sleep on the couch, or in the Jeep- “

“No,” you cut him off, waving a hand. “You’re right, we’ve slept closer before. It’s not like you’re a stranger anymore. I trust you,” you smiled at Hal, who looked close to tears. “It’s alright, Hal. Let’s get that one room.”

They visibly relaxed, finishing the details, and handed you the keys with a sincere thanks, and you smiled warmly, waving goodbye as Frankie led you to the courtyard with a hand on the small of your back.

Stepping back into the humid air, you took a deep breath, suddenly nervous about sharing a room with Frankie. It was nothing that he had done to bring this anxiousness out, and you hadn’t lied, you did trust him. If anything, he had proven that he wasn’t going to hurt you, going out of his way to patch up a minor injury (and if you really thought about it, you could still feel the shape of his lips, and imagine how they’d feel in places above your knee.)

No, it wasn’t Frankie that you didn’t trust in a private room with a lock and key.

It was yourself, and the feelings he was making you feel bubbling under the surface of your skin.

←Previous  Next→

[marisferasiop]

So this Sub!Frankie fic (featuring Santiago) is probably going to be 5-6k. I'm at 2.2 and we're still in the opening scene. Whoops.

Minors DNI below the cut

Y'all got to know me real good on my 20-30k oneshots like Fuse and Paklalat. I think the Dieter/Cecil managed to be under 5, but this is more involved. Yeah that's a pg-13 way of putting it 😂🫠

Bring your diapers or a change of underwear. I wish I was kidding (ehehehehe)

Domme afab reader, subby Frankie who is, at the time of the fic, at the end of what would essentially be a Locktober event (if not a minor, google when you're not working- nsfw) and wants to be cucked by Santi fucking reader, his afab partner and domme. Santi is a regular addition to the bedroom so it happens, we see lots of predicament bondage and of course chastity play, fucking machines, cum eating/cum dump and cock worship behavior, Santi and Frankie are both bi in this and into it.

I'm shooting for end of the month- I write slowly and carefully - but I am awaiting an official date on my top surgery, so that could delay it, because the only date open is in November. Fingers crossed I can get it before the new year (and new insurance kicks in) 😬

I hope that sounds appealing to you all and that you like it! I've certainly enjoyed writing it 🫠

[brewsterispunkk]

die for you in secret

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

warnings: mutual pining, fluff, angst to happy ending :,)

WC: 4.1k

summary: “all these people think love’s for show, but I would die for you in secret,” or “would it be enough if I could never give you peace?”

a/n: this one is for @thot-of-khonshu for @pedrostories secret santa ! I had so much fun with the prompt and i hope it doesn’t disappoint! the lyric prompt comes from taylor swift’s peace. enjoy, and happy holidays!!!!💖💖💖💖

die for you in secret

2000

Your scuffed chucks looked stupid next to his white ones against the roof tiles.

It almost made you laugh at the stark difference.

You and Frankie had purchased the shoes together last summer, after you both got your first paychecks from your summer job at a mini-golf place. It had been a big deal; a right of passage. A purchase with your best friend to mark the milestone of your first job together. Now, nearly ten months later, Frankie’s still looked as pristine as the day he had bought them, and yours were scuffed and stained with age and wear.

You supposed that was just the difference between you and Frankie: you were always the wild card, the person who acted first and thought about consequences later, while Frankie looked before he leaped.

“What is it?” Frankie’s foot nudged yours from where he laid sprawled next to you on the roof.

“Nothin,’” you mumbled back to him, passing him the smoking joint.

He raised an eyebrow at you and took a drag.

At seventeen, the two of you were young and stupid enough to think that smoking weed in broad daylight was a good idea, and the novelty of the drug had yet to wear off on you.

“Bullshit,” he exhaled the smoke, the scent of teen rebellion filling the warm air above you. “Tell me.”

“My shoes look dumb next to yours,” you blanched, thinking of shrugging him off but deciding against it. You never were good at lying to him.

“Did you hear that from Santi?” He asked, chuckling.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“He’s our best friend,” you corrected. Frankie snorted.

“You’re my best friend,” Frankie let his head drop down beside yours, turning his eyes to the blue sky above you that was rife with clouds. “Everyone else is just confetti.”

“Ha,” you said, sarcasm rolling from your tongue. “I’ll tell him that, I’m sure he’ll appreciate the sentiment.”

“Ahh, he already knows.” Frankie waved you off.

You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at his words, frustrated that they still persisted no matter how much you tried to stomp them down.

Everyone else is just confetti.

You sighed.

Frankie had been your best friend since fifth grade, when you had transferred schools. He’d been your only friend for that entire year, and he hadn’t been able to get rid of you since.

Santi came along freshman year and completed your trio. And no matter how many times you’d told Frankie that he was full of shit, that the three of you were best friends, Frankie would insist differently. That you, who had been by his side since the two of you were ten, were his best friend. Even in high school, when you’d joined student government and he’d had a growth spurt that made him the object of every girl’s attention, you’d remained the same as you always had. And therein lied the problem.

You, in sometime between when you’d met and now, had fallen in love with Frankie. So much so that no matter who you dated or hooked up with, or whoever he dated or hooked up with, it was always him. And you were hopeless. It was a blessing that he didn’t know yet (Frankie Morales couldn’t read a room if his life depended on it), and it was a miracle that Santi hadn’t caught on yet.

“D’ya think he’ll be mad at us?” You asked, turning your head to face Frankie.

From here you could see his profile perfectly; his strong, aquiline nose, his lips pursed in contemplation, his eyelashes that were so long they were sinful—No!

You snapped yourself out of it.

“Who, Santi?”

“Yeah.”

“For what?” Frankie turned to you and you could feel his breath on your face.

“For skipping without him!” you burst, turning your head away. You were scared that if you looked at him like that—with his wide brown eyes and floppy dark hair—that you would do something stupid like kiss him.

“He’ll get over it,” Frankie said. “Besides, you know he doesn’t like to smoke.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, taking another drawl from the joint.

It was true; Santi didn’t like weed. He didn’t like the way it smelled or the way it fucked up your lungs. Besides, he ran track, and didn’t need a failed drug test to stand in his way of a college scholarship.

“Did he tell you about the party tonight?” Frankie asked after you were silent for a few moments.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

You laughed.

“I said I’d go,” you nudged his shoulder with your own. He let out a sigh of relief beside you.

“Well that makes me feel better.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked curiously.

Although Frankie wasn’t the party animal Santi was, or the wild child you were, he wasn’t opposed to parties. His growth spurt last summer had flung him into popularity, and a popular girlfriend along with a few new friends on the football team had secured your trio invitations to more parties than even you knew what to do with. The reluctance he was showing was something new.

“It's just,” he sighed, sitting up with his elbows on his knees. “I’m not necessarily looking forward to the whole… fanclub thing.”

Oh.

After Frankie had broken up with his girlfriend of three months, Giselle, last week, the female population of your high school had swarmed. Hey, you couldn’t blame them. But still, Frankie was shy, and definitely not used to the attention. Santi had cheekily nicknamed Frankie’s new suitors as, “the fanclub.”

“Well, I’ll fight ‘em off for you,” you joked, sitting up with him. He chuckled.

“Thanks,” he said softly. “I don’t know. It was different when I was with Giselle. I mean, I was taken. Off the market. Now, wherever I go, it feels like I’m looked at under a microscope. I hate it.”

You were silent for a moment, struck at the raw insecurity that Frankie was finally voicing. He seemed to take your silence for a sign to continue.

“It’s like they’re not even doing it because they like me,” he said. “They don’t even wanna get to know me, it’s just about how I look. It’s all about others seeing, it’s all…”

“For show,” you offered. His eyes met yours, melancholy.

“Yeah.”

“We don’t have to go,” you said. “My mom will freak if I break curfew again. We could tell Santi that I don't wanna risk it.”

Frankie tossed you a crooked smile, before bringing his arm around your shoulders.

“Nah,” he said. “He’s been looking forward to this for weeks. Garrett’s throwing it.”

Your lips parted in understanding. Of course you had to go.

Garrett was the boy that Santi had been crushing on since tenth grade. There was no way the three of you could miss this party.

“Alright,” you finally said. “We’ll go then. How bad can it be?”

- - - -

Astronomically bad, it turns out.

You rubbed your clammy palms on the denim miniskirt you already regretted wearing as you sat on your knees on the scratchy basement carpet.

Across from you, Santi made intense eye-contact with you, the look on his face urgent, as if to tell you, “calm down.” Frankie sat a few people down from you in the circle you had created, wedged between two girls who were practically falling over him.

“Well?” One of them asked, an eyebrow arched. “It’s your turn.”

She nodded to the bottle in front of you and you choked. Right. That’s what you were here to do.

God, why had you agreed to this?

You reached out and twirled the bottle with a flick of your wrist, hoping to god it landed anywhere but Trent Dean who had been leering at you all evening. Spin the bottle had been his idea.

You held your breath as it slowed to a stop in front of…

Frankie.

Your breath left your chest, and you stared at his brown eyes that were as wide as yours were.

The whole circle was quiet for a moment, until one of the girls next to Frankie scoffed. Santi cleared his throat, before patting his thighs.

“Well,” he said, voice strained. “You can’t argue with the bottle.”

“Alright, you know the drill, in the closet, seven minutes.” Trent sneered, glaring at Frankie who all of a sudden looked more sheepish than you’d seen him the entire night.

You panicked at the mention of the time. Seven minutes might as well be an eternity.

“Make that three!” A voice piped up. Santi had crossed his arms and was now staring at Trent. “We have a curfew.”

Thank God for Santiago, you thought as you got to your feet.

You wobbled a bit and Frankie’s hand came out to steady you. Someone from the circle whistled before Santi promptly smacked them.

The closet was exactly as you’d expected; stuffy, dark, and filled with old jackets and golf clubs that once belonged to someone’s grandfather. And Frankie. Frankie was also there.

You wiped off your hands on your skirt again, your stomach in knots.

The sound of teenagers whooping and laughing outside was muffled, and you could scarcely hear your own heartbeat over the sound of your breathing.

“We don’t have to, you know.” Frankie broke the silence. “They wouldn’t know.”

You winced.

Except they would, you thought.

“My lipstick, Frankie.” You cringed.

“What?”

“My lipstick. It’s red. They’ll know if we don’t kiss.”

Frankie sighed resolutely.

“Alright then.” He said. “Wanna just get it over with?”

You shriveled a bit on the inside. Of course he’d see this as something to get over with. You knew that. You’d expected that, it didn’t mean it hurt any less.

Frankie seemed to take your silence as apprehension.

“Or not,” he added. “I can go back out there and tell them all to fuck off if that’s what you want.”

“No, no it’s okay, Frank,” you rushed, hands finding his forearms in the dark. “I just zoned out.”

“Okay,” he seemed unconvinced.

“Okay.”

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Oka—“

And before you could comprehend it, his lips were on yours.

They were decisive, unyielding, like he knew what he was doing. Which, you learned, quickly, that he did.

Almost immediately, his hands snaked around your waist, drawing you flush against his front. At the same time, his lips parted yours with a gentle urgency, nothing like you’d expected. His tongue gently prodded into your mouth, and you couldn’t help but gasp at the contact. Your knees, (embarrassingly), buckled, and you stumbled further into him.

“Hmph,” he let out a noise between a moan and an exclamation as you returned his kiss with equal fervor.

You sighed in response, your hands moving from his arms to tangle in his hair. It was exactly as soft as you’d imagined and god, now that you’d gotten a taste of Frankie, you weren’t sure you could ever go back.

The door opening sent the two of you jumping apart.

“Time’s up,” Garrett said amusedly. Behind you, you saw that most of the other people in the circle had left the room.

“Game over?” Frankie asked coolly.

“It would seem so,” Santi raised an eyebrow. The four of you were the only ones remaining in the room.

“Hmm,” you hummed. “Well, we have 45 minutes til we have to leave, wanna dance?”

“Sure, dancing queen, let’s go,” Santi linked his arm with yours and began to lead you out of the room.

You didn’t need to turn to Frankie to see the expression on his face; you were sure you already knew what it held and you weren’t in the mood to see his regret today.

Behind you, Frankie brushed his lips, now stained cherry red.

- - - -

2009

He brought his new girlfriend this year, and you’d felt your heart deflate a bit when he walked in.

Signing, you blamed it on the bad break up you had two months ago. Deep down, though, you knew that it was more than that. No matter how many years went by, seeing Frankie with someone else always sent the same knife through your gut.

You sipped at your champagne flute, the guys roaring at the television in the other room. A moment of reprieve, that was all you wanted.

In the decade since graduation, your circle had grown, and you were glad for it.

Where you had decided to go to college and get your degree after high school, Frankie and Santi had joined the military. After they’d completed one tour, you’d graduated and they had added Will, Benny, and Tom to the group. Along with some close friends you’d made in college, your friend group had grown from three to about ten. While at times it was overwhelming, you were glad of it at time like these, when you yearned for a moment to yourself.

You leaned onto the entry of the kitchen, observing the scene before you in the living room.

Benny and your friend from college, Regina were arguing over something sports-related, while Will was talking to Tom on the couch, a flimsy cardboard headband that said “2010!” on his blond head. You snorted at the sight.

Standing in the middle of the room wrapped in each other’s arms were Frankie and his new girlfriend, Andrea.

They looked happy. Truly, genuinely, happy, which made you feel even more guilty for hating the sight of them together.

You pursed your lips and took another gulp of your champagne. The bubbly, gold stained liquid tasted bitter on your tongue.

“Well, if that isn’t the most pathetic thing I’ve seen all year.” Santi’s voice came from your left.

You suppressed the need to roll your eyes.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” you drawled dryly.

“Mmhm,” Santi said, sipping from his own glass. “I thought you said that you were gonna finally tell him.”

You sighed.

So we’re doing this.

Frankie might have been your oldest friend, but Santi knew how to push you like no one else did.

A little before graduation, he’d questioned you about your crush on Frankie and you caved. You told him everything, and it felt so good to get it off of your chest. Since then, though, Santi had never ceased to bug you about it. Recently though, since your break-up, it had gotten worse.

“I was,” you replied. “But, in case you haven’t noticed, he has a date tonight.”

“They’ve been together for a week, tops.” Santi dead-panned. “You’ve loved him for, like, fifteen years—“

You shushed him, smacking his arm.

“—ow! Okay! Okay! I’m just saying. It’s a new decade. New year, new me and all that.”

You snorted.

“You don’t actually believe that.”

“Says who?”

“Says you,” you poked him. “Since we were fifteen.”

“Well, maybe I’ve changed my mind.”

“You wanna know what I think?” You turned to him.

“What’s that?”

“That you just like to annoy me.”

“That is also true,” he clinked his glass with yours. “But, not the case here. Last year, your resolution was to finally tell him. Now is your chance.”

“I don’t think so, Pope.”

He made a disgusted face.

“Ugh, it’s so weird when you call me that.”

You laughed, chest feeling lighter already.

“Hmm, maybe Benny will be my new years kiss.” You sipped your champagne.

“Oh god, that would be the worst.” Santi laughed. “The only thing worse than the two of you separate is the two of you together.”

You laughed, looking back to a flushed Benny still arguing with Regina. You smiled. Benny was a joy, the true heart of the group. All golden hair, mischievous smirks, and wide eyes.

Your eyes drifted to Frankie and your smile fell. He was smiling, and a bit tipsy is the blush on his cheeks told you anything, whispering in Andrea’s ear. Your heart stuttered.

Beside you, Santi breathed your name, his hand finding yours. You sniffed, ripping your eyes away from them.

“Mhm?” You responded, looking over at Santi.

His brown eyes held tenderness, something that you would almost call pity. You plastered a smile on your face.

“Do you ever get tired of it?”

“What? Of your endless prodding?”

“Ha, ha,” he said with no humor. “I mean,” he paused, and you braced yourself.

This was just like Santi, starting a deep conversation casually.

“What?”

“How do you do it?” He asked.

Your brows furrowed.

“Love him in secret,” he clarified.

You chuckled humorlessly, all lightheartedness drained from the conversation.

“I guess I’m just used to it,” you said, running a finger over the rim of your glass.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” he said. You closed your eyes frustratedly. He always knew when you were bullshitting. He could see right through you, and now was no exception.

“Okay, fine,” you turned to him. “I couldn’t give him peace.”

“Wha—“

“If I told him, he’d say yes with no questions asked.”

“I’m glad we see eye to eye, now—“

“No, Santi.” You all but snapped. “He would do it to make me happy. That’s just who he is. It doesn’t matter whether he felt the same or not. I wouldn’t do that to him.”

“And how do you know he doesn’t feel the same way?”

“I just do,” you sighed, eyes finding your too-kind best friend. “He’s restless, he always has been. He needs something… I don’t know. Something different. Not me.”

Santi contemplated for a minute, before sighing.

“I think you’re both idiots.” He said with finality. “Frankie’s looking for something, you’re right, but he’s not gonna find it in the army or in traveling or in that girl’s pants.”

You blanched at his bluntness.

“And you,” he continued. “Need to buck up and tell him. Because before you know it, he will be settled down and it will be too late.”

You didn’t say anything, you were too busy deciding whether to be offended by what he said or not.

“Now,” Santi came to stand in front of you. “I’m going to go drink with our friends and ring in the new decade. Don’t stay here for too long.”

He gave you a too-tight hug before sauntering off.

You remained silent as he walked away.

That new year, at midnight as the ball dropped, Santi and Benny pressed sloppy kisses to your cheeks on either side while Frankie embraced his girlfriend. And though you were surrounded by love and laughter and friends, you couldn’t have felt more empty.

- -

2019

Your ass hurt.

You’d been sitting in this uncomfortable airport terminal for going on five hours, watching families reuniting and workers coming and going, and you were tired.

You rubbed at your bleary eyes, the fluorescent lights making them sore. You weren’t sure how much longer you could do this.

You’d woken up from your post-work nap to your phone ringing at full volume. From the ringtone, you could tell already that it was Frankie. Your heart had skipped a beat before you frantically answered the call.

He had been out of the country with Santi, (something that was never good news), at an undisclosed location for more than a week without checking in. And because what they did was highly illegal, there was no one you could call when the day they were supposed to return came and went. No missing persons reports. You’d been suffering in silence for more than three days when your phone had finally rung.

Frankie had told you that he’d be returning alone, separately from the others, and that he needed you to pick him up.

That was supposed to be three hours ago, and still he hadn’t showed.

You tapped your foot for a few minutes, eyeing the clock. It was close to midnight.

You grabbed your empty coffee cup, thanking whatever god was listening that the welcome kiosk was open 24-hours.

As you filled up the paper cup (it must’ve been your fourth cup of the night), you felt your phone buzz in your pocket.

You scrambled to open it, hoping for word from Frankie or one of the others.

Anything yet? The text read.

It was from Frankie’s mother, Belen. You sighed, typing a quick “no” before returning to your coffee.

After a three-year span where you’d lived in New York, you’d moved home when Frankie and Camille had split. He had full custody of their six-month old, Valentina, and needed some support. Of course, you’d gone without a thought. That was a year ago.

With your new job, though, Val was with her grandma while Frankie was on his little “trip.”

Much to Santi’s chagrin, you still had yet to tell Frankie your true feelings. And you were finally learning to be content with that.

Jobs, significant others, and living situations came and went, but you and Frankie were forever. Nothing would change that, even your own feelings for him.

Besides, a day ago you weren’t even sure if he was alive, now you would take whatever you could get.

You jumped as the baggage claim carousel creaked to life behind you.

Your heart leapt. That meant… Frankie.

You turned on your heel, speed-walking to the hallway where the new-arrivals entered from.

People began filing through, all bleary-eyed and tired. You watched them pass, growing more and more antsy until your eyes caught one familiar Standard Oil cap in the crowd.

Your eyes found his, and for a moment the earth stood still.

His eyebrows drew together, before he let out what looked like a deep breath, and you both raced for each other.

You collided, and you would’ve lost your footing had it not been for his arms bracketed around you like steel.

He gasped into your shoulder, shuddering when one of your hands found his hair, and the other grabbed at his waist. You sobbed out a breath.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you breathed into the side of his head, holding him as if he would disappear any minute.

He breathed heavily into your shoulder, hunched over you, squeezing you just as tightly.

“You—“ you began, before he was pulling back.

His hands found your cheeks, holding either of them up to force your gaze to him.

His eyes looked almost crazed, yet relieved as they gazed into yours.

“I love you,” he breathed out, stealing the air from your chest.

Your eyebrows barely had time to raise before his lips were on yours.

If the first kiss you’d shared nearly twenty years before was passionate, then this was feverish.

There was nothing soft about the way Frankie kissed you. It invaded your senses, and you waited a moment before responding and pressing your lips against his with equal force.

You grabbed at him anywhere you could find purchase, wanting to savor this moment every way you could.

One of his hands slid back into your hair, holding the back of your head. His tongue pushed against yours languidly, and you pushed back.

By the time he pulled back, your hands were on his cheeks. You pressed smaller, chaste kisses to his lips as he caught his breath.

“I love you,” you whispered back. His shoulders sagged a bit.

“I’m such an idiot,” he lamented, forehead against yours. “You don’t have to say it back, baby, I just, I thought I was gonna die out there and I needed you to know—“

“Frankie, Frankie, Frankie,” you forced his gaze to yours and all you found was insecurity. The same kind that you saw all those years ago on the roof.

“Frank,” you giggled breathlessly, nudging your nose with his. “I’ve been in love with you since high school.”

“Wha—What?” He sounded genuinely disbelieving.

You sighed, eyes locked with his. You nodded.

“Since we were fifteen.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” His voice was straining, like he was getting choked up.

You brushed his cheek fondly.

“I guess you’re not the only idiot.” You dead panned.

And maybe it was the sleep-depravity, or the trauma of that god-awful trip, or your awful work day, but either way: right then, you and Frankie erupted in a fit of laughter, right there in the airport terminal.

He threw his head back and laughed so deeply that it sounded like it came from deep in his chest. You followed, (you could never not laugh with Frankie; his joy was contagious), and soon you were doubled over with sore-sides from laughter. And all was right in the world, if only for a moment.

After you’d calmed down, Frankie, cheeks rosy, grabbed your hand and asked,

“Take me home?”

“About time.” You answered

[jksprincess10]

With or without you || Javier P. x reader x Frankie

Summary: You ask your partner, Javi, to join in on a bad idea. (3k words)

CW: MFM dynamics, bi!frankie, probably a bit ooc sometimes but it’s a fanfiction idc, petnames (hermosa, bonita, baby, good boy, etc.), alcohol, cigarettes, no homo!javi, shameless flirting, dom!javi, switch!reader, sub!frankie, lots of talk of consent, praise kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), deepthroating, fingering, masturbation, Javier talks you through it, squirting, unsafe p in v, creampie, using cum as lube, cum eating. 

Read my other works

“Javi?”

The man looked up at you from his desk, big brown eyes showing a false sense of innocence, lips curled around an eternal cigarette. “Hm?”

“What do you think about the new military guy… Francisco?”

You had this look on your face; the one when you had a really bad idea. Javier sighed and let his cigarette sit in his ashtray before folding his muscular arms on his chest.

“I know this look, hermosa. Tell me what’s on your mind and stop fucking around. We have work to do.”

He leaned back on his chair with a disinterested look. You sat in front of him and played with his cigarette, rolling it around the ashtray, distracted.

“I want him to fuck me. With or without you.”

Javier rolled his eyes, annoyed. “Can we not talk about this at work?”

“Fine. Usual place, at 8?”

**

Spanish music played on shitty speakers. Doors and windows were wide open, letting in the crushing heat. Javier was fidgeting with his whiskey glass, while you were sitting in front of him.

“Talk.” He simply said.

“Said what I had to say, Javi.”

You had known and worked with this man for a long time. You also both found pleasure in each other’s bodies frequently. The only understanding was to say when you were seeing a new partner. But this time… you wanted both of them, together.

“I don’t want you to fuck a work colleague.”

“Damn, you suddenly have morals?” You snorted and sipped on your cocktail. “And technically, you are a work colleague.”

Javier rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink. He seemed partly annoyed, partly jealous.

“Then I’ll be there.”

“You’ll watch or you’ll participate?”

“Participate. But if he does a bad job, I’ll kick him out.” A beat, then. “Are you sure he wants this?”

You were ecstatic.

“Let me do my thing.” You said as you clapped.

“Fine. M’not touching him though.”

“I would never dream of attacking your straightness, Mr. Macho man.” Or did you.

He looked behind you, distracted. “Time to work your magic, I guess, hermosa.”

You looked behind you and smiled warmly when you saw Francisco awkwardly standing near the door and you got up to greet him. He had similar features to Javi; a prominent nose and pretty eyes. But their hair were different; while Javi rocked a mustache and a clean cut, Frankie had a patchy beard and wild curls that came out the back of his cap.

“Francisco! I’m so glad you could make it!” You held him by the arm to bring him closer to the bar, feeling his muscles under your palm. You could almost feel Javier’s burning stare on your back.  

“Please, just… Frankie.” He corrected. Like Javier, the man had an American heritage.

“So, Frankie, how do you find work?”

You made small talk with him after he ordered a drink or himself, until Javi got up to meet you at the bar, your forgotten cocktail in hand.

“Shouldn’t leave your drink alone, hermosa.”

“Shit, thank you, Javi.” You leaned down to kiss his cheek, not failing to notice how Frankie looked away. “Frankie, you know Javi, right? Works in the DEA with me.”

“Yeah, uh… nice to see you, man.” They exchanged a firm handshake, while Javier tried to have a staring contest with the man and the other one blushed lightly. Was it the alcohol or pure shyness?

“Didn’t wanna bother you and your man, sorry.” Frankie finally said, taking his hand back for himself.

“Oh, it’s not like that.” You brushed it away and sipped on your cocktail. “We just have fun sometimes; this work is too intense to have someone waiting for you back home.” Javier looked at you like you did everything wrong, but you were feeling bold. Your finger traced Frankie’s hand, the one that was holding his drink firmly. The tip of your finger stopped on the target tattooed on his hand, the ink once black had become a blueish tint over time. “Do you have someone waiting for you back home?”

“I don’t.”

“So… what do you say if we finish those drinks and go back to my place… together?”

Javier sure didn’t seem thrilled about the idea. Frankie rubbed the back of his neck in an uncomfortable manner. You were both attractive to him, it just was… a lot. Let’s say he didn’t expect to finish his workday with a threesome.  

“Fuck, yeah… why not.” He finally said.

You lifted your drink to suggest a toast.

**

“So here’s how it’s gonna work, Morales. I’ll show you how to take care of her and you do as I say. You do one thing out of our understanding, and I kick your ass, understood?” Frankie, sat on the edge of your bed, nodded.

You rolled your eyes at Javi. “Don’t listen to him, he’s all bark, no bite.” Your hands laid on Frankie’s shoulders. “Just have fun, be yourself and I’ll tell you if I don’t like something, okay?” A little of the tension in his shoulders left. You smiled warmly and leaned down to press your lips against his. His lips were soft, and he kissed you delicately, too scared to fuck up under Javier’s gaze. His calloused hand took place on your cheek. His hands were rougher than Javi’s, while the rest of him was all soft.

“Is this okay?” You asked as you took off his cap, revealing wild, brown curls. Your fingers went directly through his hair.  

“Yes.”

You smiled and turned to Javi. “Javier, stop standing in the corner like a creep, and come here.” He chuckled lightly and approached your bodies, his chest pressing against your back. His big hands rested on your hips, and he brought you closer, leaving long kisses in your neck. Your eyes rolled in the back of your skull, and you leaned back on him as he held you firmly. Frankie got up from the bed to kiss you once more, this time with more confidence. His hand went higher than Javi’s, resting on the small of your waist.

“Is he kissing you well, hermosa?” Javier’s hot breath tickled your skin.

“Yes.” You breathed and turned your head to look at Javi. “He’s really soft.” Your lover’s lips met yours in a kiss full of his hunger. He didn’t think he’d be turned on by the situation, but you could feel it as he pressed his hips against the curve of your ass. Meanwhile, hesitating hands undid your work shirt, popping buttons open until your chest was exposed to the hot air of your bedroom.

From behind you, Javier helped Frankie take your shirt all the way off, the light fabric flying down to the ground. The two men worked together to get rid of the rest of your clothes, leaving you completely naked between them.

“Isn’t she so pretty, Morales?” Javier asked as he grabbed a handful of your breasts, making you squeak.

Frankie was hypnotized by your body and Javier’s big hands touching you. “Yes, she is.”

Eager to discover what was hidden under Frankie’s clothes, you helped him take them off, until he was left in his boxers. Behind you, Javier was getting rid of his own clothes without any shame. You pushed Frankie on the bed, and he laid down on your pillows, looking at the both of you with interest glistening in his big brown eyes.

You turned to Javi to give him some attention. Your hands trailed down his toned chest, passed the hair at the base at his cock, and you took his stiff member in your hand, pumping it a few times. His head fell back, and his mouth opened slightly.

On your bed, Frankie was palming himself through his dark boxers.

You gave a few kisses to Javi, a bit of softness. “Still okay?” You asked against his lips.

He nodded.  “Doing this for you, hermosa.”

You nodded and gave him a warm smile. You then turned around to look at Frankie, bucking his hips against his hand, desperate for friction.

“Oh, pretty boy.” You cooed. “I’ll help you.” You kneeled on the bed between his opened thighs. You slowly slid down his boxers, his red and angry cock springing out. “So beautiful.” You praised, and you saw Frankie’s cheeks flushing at the compliment. You leaned down and licked his cock from the base to the tip. The man whimpered under you. While you were pleasing him, Javier pulled on your hips to raise your ass in the air and spread your thighs. His fingers slipped in the wetness of your slit, gathering lubrification to easily insert a finger in your hole. You moaned against Frankie’s cock at the intrusion, before taking the head of his cock between your lips. You sucked on it softly, coaxing moans from Frankie.

“I’ll be the first to make you cum tonight, hermosa.” Javi said, slowly pumping his finger in and out. “Then, I’ll show him how to do it.”

You could only moan in response, and Javier inserted another finger. He thrusted them in and out and you followed the same rhythm with your lips, taking as much of Frankie’s cock that you could. You felt Javier’s fingers curl and pleasure twisted your stomach. Your walls tightened around his fingers as he pulled a first orgasm out of you.

Javi’s hand grabbed on your hair to pull you away from the other man’s cock, and he pushed you against the bed, so you’d lay down.

“Do you wanna please her, Morales?” He asked Frankie as he looked at him.

“Please.” He breathed. Javier nodded and spread your legs with his hands, before taking Frankie’s spot. Your other colleague took place between your thighs and leaned down to kiss you sweetly. You grabbed on to his cheeks as you deepened the kiss, keeping him close.

“She likes to get eaten out. So you better fucking get to it.” Javier grunted, his back laying against the cushions, and lazily palming himself.

“O-Okay.” Frankie  

The sweet man left kisses down every part of your body, until he got to your mound. He tentatively licked a stripe across your slit, and you hummed appreciatively, closing your eyes to appreciate the feeling. He flattened his tongue and concentrated his attention on your clit, pressing hard against it. Your hands went to his hair, tugging gently.

“Doing so good.” You praised.

Javier looked attentively at the two of you, waiting for the moment Frankie would screw up. But he seemed at ease between your thighs, licking and drinking until you were moaning softly.

“Touch her too, it’ll make her squirt.” Javier directed, turning his body to yours to caress your hair. You turned your face to him, kissing him hungrily and letting your moans die against his lips as Frankie did just that; easily inserting two fingers as he sucked on your clit.

Javier looked down at Frankie. “Curl your fingers. Like that. That’s it.” He murmured in a deep voice that made Frankie dizzy with want.

Frankie hit that spongey spot between your walls again and again, as his tongue circled your clit rhythmically. You cursed in a moan as a warning, and you gushed around his fingers, wetting the bottom of his pretty face.

Frankie slowly straightened up with a small smile.  You caressed his cheek. “Good boy, you did so good.” You looked at Javi with a devilish grin. “Baby, want you to taste me on his tongue.” Javi didn’t seem pleased with the idea at all. “Please.” You added.

“I want it too.” Frankie finally said, flustered.

“Fine. But we’re never talking about this.” He sighed.  Frankie leaned down and their lips joined. Javier seemed annoyed at first, but he let Frankie taste his lips. Javier could discern your sweet and familiar essence through the man’s saliva. You admired the two beautiful men kissing, feeling even more arousal building in your stomach. Frankie moaned against the DEA agent’s mouth before Javier let him go. The latter one wiped his mouth.

“Thank you.” You put your hand on the back of Javier’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss. He let your lips wash away the other man’s taste in his mouth. Javier then sat beside you, and you laid your head on his lap. He caressed your hair affectionately.

You pulled on Frankie’s arms to bring him closer, and once his body was over yours; you wrapped your legs around his waist. “Fuck me, pretty boy.” You said softly, as if you were scared of making him run away.

Frankie leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, always so soft. He didn’t seem used to casual sex, you noted. He took his time, and he was loving in every way. Seconds later, Javier’s hand grabbed the man’s curly hair to pull him away from your lips. Frankie moaned under his touch, cheeks red from embarrassment. “Are you gonna fuck her or not, Morales?”  Javier asked, growing impatient as he stayed untouched himself, dick still stiff and angry between his legs.

“Perdón.” Frankie whispered, before circling his length with his masculine hand. He slowly invaded your walls, and you relaxed under Javier’s caresses on your hair and your breasts. You regular partner was playing with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. He seemed to want to concentrate his dark gaze on your anatomy instead on the other man fucking you.

Frankie bottomed, hips flush with yours. You sighed happily. His dick was similar to Javi’s in appearance, but while Javi’s was longer, his was on the girthier side. Either way, it felt amazing. The military man also seemed more conscious about the hair growing on his body, the hair at base of his shaft neatly trimmed.

“Will you suck Javier while I fuck you, bonita?” It was the longest sentence that Frankie had said that night. And in that moment, you had wished he had spoken like this the whole time. The man started moving his hips slowly, trying to figure out how you liked it.

“Hmmm, yes.” Javier’s hand grabbed on your hair to pull your face flush to his dick. “You wish you could have that dick in your mouth, don’t you, Frankie?” You smirked as you looked to the side to see the man’s expression. The way his hips stuttered confirmed what you thought.

Javier pushed on your head to encourage you, and you took about half of his stiffness in your mouth. You didn’t have to do much work at this point, Javier’s hand was guiding you, while each thrust from the other man pushed the other man’s cock farther into your mouth. When you felt him hit the back of your throat, you breathed heavily through your nose and felt the tears prickling your eyes.

“You feel so fucking good.” Frankie groaned, picking up the pace. You moaned around Javi’s cock, spit sliding down your chin as you did so. Javi pulled on your hair to push you away, and he wiped your chin with his fingers.

“Stop, I don’t wanna cum yet, hermosa.” You nodded weakly and became easily overstimulated when Javi’s hand met your cunt, thumb circling your clit, as Frankie pounded into you without mercy. You moaned loudly.

“Alright baby, alright baby, give us another one.” Francisco said softly. They both coaxed another orgasm out of you, your walls chocking the man’s dick. “Fuck.” He groaned. “So fucking close.”

Javi’s hand slid up from your wetness, laying on your stomach to let you calm down.

“Be a good boy and fuck your cum into me.” You said, out of breath, as you pulled on the man’s curls to bring him closer. In a deep groan, Frankie’s seed erupted between your walls. You savored each drop that you felt, until he came to a stop and laid down on top of you. You kissed his temple softly, before pushing him away, knowing Javier was impatient to get his turn. Francisco rolled over and looked at you, half-lidded, as the DEA agent took his spot between your thighs.

“Still okay?” Javier asked, and you nodded with a smile.

“Fuck me, Javi.”

He pumped his angry cock a few times, before sliding easily between your walls, eased by your own juices and Frankie’s cum spilling out of you. He tried not to think about the other man’s substance and concentrated on chasing his end, already picking up a harsh pace. Frankie’s calloused hand caressed your cheek while you moaned freely under your lover’s thrusts. The DEA agent leaned down and supported his upper body on his forearms, fucking you deeper and deeper with each thrust.

Without a warning, you came again, starting to see stars behind your closed eyes.

“M’close, hermosa.” Javi alerted.

“C’mon, fill me up, Javi.” You straightened up a bit to chase his lips, all teeth, tongue, and no softness left. He obliged seconds later, also meeting his own end.

He cursed and slowly backed away from your body, heading to the bathroom to find something to clean you up. He was barely gone, and Frankie was already on his knees beside the bed, bringing your thighs closer to his face, so he could lick you clean. The tip of his tongue traced your hole, drinking every drop of cum he could find.

You were so overstimulated, it was almost painful, but you couldn’t rob him from tasting Javi’s cum on you. When Javier saw the two of you in this position, his towel fell to the floor, mouth hanging open.

“No need cleaning up now, I guess.” He said, slightly amused at the way Frankie was licking you up eagerly.

“Sorry.” Frankie shamefully said.

“It’s okay, baby.” You reassured him.

Minutes later, you were falling asleep on the messy bed, and Frankie was awkwardly picking up his clothes to leave. He dressed up completely under Javier’s severe gaze, the latter smoking a cigarette on the edge of the bed.

“See you Monday, Morales.”

“See you Monday, Javier.”

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Prompt 7: you can take it

Maybe Frankie x chubby reader? Pretty please and thank you 🥰

Thank you for this delicious prompt, and for making me revisit Frankie and chubby!reader. It's been far too long.

Title: Move

Forever Starts With You (Frankie x chubby!Reader) masterlist

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales/chubby!Reader aka “Bonnie” (you, cishet female)

Warnings: Some reminiscing, non-graphic cunnilingus, PiV sex, Frankie's big dick.

Summary: You and Frankie are finally moving together and say goodbye to your old apartment in a befitting way.

Words: 922

A/N: This was so much fun! I've missed these two but apparently I can't write them without a prompt. And I clearly can't write porn without plot when it comes to them because Bonnie deserves all the plots!

Frankie and you finally find a new place in late spring, and move in when May turns to June. Weeks of sorting through your possessions, deciding on what furniture to keep and what to buy new, packing, and taking things to goodwill culminated on a Saturday when Frankie's buddies show up to carry couches, bedframes, and boxes. Frankie, who doesn't have the best of backs, coordinates the move, and you're in your new place, arranging and unpacking boxes by room as they arrive. Your new home with Frankie smells of fresh paint and the new AC unit cools it down wonderfully, providing your movers with a nice respite from the warm weather outside.

The day ends with beers and pizzas as is customary, before your helpers leave, and you and Frankie stumble into the shower and then into bed. On Sunday, you go first to his old apartment to clean, and after that to yours.

When you’ve cleaned the entire apartment from top to bottom, you look around the empty rooms and can't help but feel a little melancholic. You lived here for a decade, made it yours, built your adulthood in this apartment. This is where you truly became who you are. This apartment has seen a lot of joy, tears, happiness, and hopes. You loved men here, men who didn't know how to love you back for who you are, all of you, every single pound that according to society are excess and wrong. You took Frankie here after your third date, undressed on the couch that has now found a new home with a couple of students who picked it up last week, and with Frankie, you received love, more than you could ever have dreamed of. This is where your relationship grew into what it is today.

You can't wait to see what your new place will bear witness to.

"Querida?"

You blink, your reverie interrupted, and turn your head to see Frankie standing in the doorway. His footsteps echo in the empty space when he comes up to you.

”You okay?”

”Perfect,” you nod, taking his hand to wrap his arm around you. Assured that you are well and that you want his sweat-smelling body next to your own, which doesn’t exactly smell like roses either, he hugs you to him and rests his chin on the top of your head.

”Does it feel weird to leave this place?” he asks, hand slowly stroking the small of your back.

”It does,” you admit, ”but I’m not getting cold feet, if that’s what you’re asking.”

”You lived here for a long time.”

”I did, and I loved this apartment. But I love moving together with you more.”

”This is where we had a lot of firsts, though,” Frankie reminds you, and now he cups your cheeks and turns your face up towards his. ”A lot of really nice firsts.”

”We have a whole new home to break in,” you smile as you get up on tip-toe to kiss him. There’s sweat on his upper lip and you can’t resist licking at it, his mustache bristly against your tongue.

”Care for a last one in this home…?” There’s seduction in his voice and you raise your eyebrows at him.

”We have no furniture.”

”We have a floor, my love.”

And that’s how you end up on your back on the floor, splayed open for Frankie to delve into you with tongue and fingers, sucking your clit until you’re shaking and sobbing his name.

When he pushes all the way into you, you’re literally trapped between a rock and a hard place, with the unyielding floor under you. It’s almost too much.

”Frankie,” you whimper, unsure for a second that you’re going to manage it, ”it’s so big.”

”You can take it,” he reassures you gently, stroking your air as he pins you down, staying still yet deep, so deep inside you. ”My sweet, good girl. One last fuck before we go back to our home, okay? You can take it.”

”I can,” you whisper, and he kisses you sweetly, like he wasn’t balls deep in you and spearing you down into the carpet. When his hips start to roll against yours, you quickly find the rhythm and move with him, breathlessly kissing, your eye contact breaking only when Frankie’s pace quickens and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, grunting against your sweaty skin.

He stays deep inside you when he’s finished, kissing you all over your face while you wipe the damp curls from his forehead.

”I love you so much.”

”I love you, Frankie.” You pull him in for a long kiss, tongues licking at each other, your fingers in Frankie’s hair. ”Let’s do this in our new place, too.”

”I’m glad we don’t carpet there,” Frankie groans as he slowly straightens his back, pulling out and sitting back. You sit up as well and notice the burns on his knees and elbows. You smile wryly.

”I think I have one on my ass,” you confess, sensing a heat on said body part. ”We have aloe vera cream at home.”

”I like that,” Frankie smiles at you. ”We have it, at home.”

”I like that, too.”

You help each other up, get dressed, and gather your cleaning equipment before you leave the keys on the kitchen counter, as per your agreement with the real estate agent. When you close the door on this chapter of your life, there’s a wide smile on your face.

[gracie7209]

Amaryllis Chapter 6

Pairing: Frankie x f!Reader

WC: 9.2K

Rating: E

Warnings: Here we GO! We’ve made it to approximately the halfway point and the overall E rating for this story so minors DNI! I know some of this won’t be everyone’s cup of tea so heed the warnings… the beginning isn’t smutty and is definitely important so if you’d rather skip the smut just read for a bit and you’ll know when things shift— Also, Reader is hispanic (no physical description aside from accent and growing pregnant belly) and we dive a little deeper into her history— Fluff, smut, fingering, oral (m & f) receiving, pregnancy, pregnant sex, unprotected PIV (be safe y’all), normal bodily functions when pregnant i.e. lactation, reader’s horror at the realization, but Frankie doesn’t mind, lactation kink? Kind of? If you squint? Praise, dirty talk? They honestly don’t realize what they’re saying lol ummm I think that’s all, but please let me know if I missed something!

Summary: You see Frankie for the first time in two months. Emotions run high as he lays out his plan to deal with Tom.

A/N: I’m so nervous and excited to get this out…. We definitely still have a lot of story left to cover, but here is 9.2k worth of some much needed reprieve for these two. I’m sure there are mistakes aplenty, and I own them all. Everything started running together so before I just deleted the whole thing, I decided to say fuck it and post what I had. There’s also a good chance that I overused … and — but 🤷🏼‍♀️

Anywho, let me know what you think and as always thank you so much for reading!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

When you walk in, you know exactly what is waiting for you. But seeing him, actually seeing him hits you harder than you anticipated.

He’s sitting in a chair set off to the side of the room. There’s a coffee table between his and another chair to match, but pushed back so it’s not in the way. There’s also a computer desk set up in the corner, to accommodate working guests. The kitchenette is small, but there’s a fridge, microwave, sink and even a full stove. The King size bed set to the back of the room is neatly made. Untouched, so you know Frankie hasn’t been here long. You know he lives in the City, so he must’ve booked the room for the sole purpose of your meeting. You look over and his eyes are trained on your form, looking at you from underneath his hat.

Frankie knew from your letter that you had agreed to meet with him, but he couldn’t help the intake of breath at seeing you. You’ve always been beautiful, so he’s not sure if it’s just the length of time since he’s seen you last or what it is completely, and even as cheesy as it sounds to himself, he feels his breathing basically stop. If only for a moment, but there’s been very few things in his life that have left him that way.

—Two months is a long time for anyone, but generally people don’t change very much physically in that amount of time. In this instance though, you are much further along than when he last saw you and he can’t help but think how absolutely perfect you are.

You make your way to the chair opposite him and sit down. He’s shifted now so that he is leaning toward you, but neither of you say a word.

He slowly reaches for your left hand. Asking permission without breaking the silent spell that’s cast itself upon you both. You graciously accept and he takes your small hand between both of his. His thumb lightly tracing over your knuckles. He’s looking at your hands now. The giant eye sore on your ring finger, his focus. He twists it around your finger absentmindedly. You both know how little meaning it truly has. At least any meaning that was worth something. A burden. A chain - tethering you to someone you’ve never held even the slightest bit of affection for, or received for that matter.

He spins it around until the face is no longer visible. Neither of you have spoken, but the silence is deafening; containing every single thing you both wish you could say.

You notice a small piece of hair falling over his eyes - still downcast on your hand in his. Without thinking, you swipe the hair to the side.

He stills at the contact—

Slowly he lets go of you entirely. You’ve touched him like this before, so surely he’s not upset?

He sits back and puts his right hand against his face; his palm almost covering his mouth and chin and his fingers rest near his jaw. His other hand is resting under his elbow… He rocks back, then forward slightly and his eyes find yours.

What is there to say? He knows the situation you’re in. He asked you to come here because he thinks he has a plan, but you know that nothing can be done in this situation. This situation that you thought of as a selfless act to protect you mother. How very childish of you..

But you had been. A child that is..

18 years old - a “legal adult.” Definitely not ready to be thrown into this world, evidenced by your idiotic decision to agree to this “deal” that has done nothing but hurt you. Not that you really had much choice in the matter at all. And Frankie… Oh Lord, Frankie knows most of the details, but you didn’t tell him everything. You worry that the look he’s giving you now will be replaced by that of pity or worse, disgust. That he won’t look at you like you’re everything— like he is now.

You are broken out of your thoughts by Frankie as he abruptly stands in front of you. You look up at him… A silent question on your face - ‘What do we do?’ ‘How do we fix this?’

He is looking down at you now… his breathing picking up slightly.

In this entire span of time, not one word has been uttered between you. He’s still looking down at you and you’re caught in his gaze. You don’t look away from him. Everything you want is right in front of you, but has never seemed further away. Being ignorant to a situation or just simply being unsure can make you sad and unhappy; this is true. But it’s nothing like knowing exactly what you want and also knowing that you can’t have it. There’s always hope that eventually you can change your mind or make a decision when you have a choice…. But this? It’s like being in a room surrounded by unbreakable glass with no doors. You see everything—everything you could possibly want, with absolutely no way to obtain it.

He shuffles around, turning away, then back again before finally resuming his place in the chair opposite you. His elbows are on his knees with his hands hanging loose between them.

After a moment, you take a deep breath and you stand up. He raises his eyes to you as you slowly make your way to stand directly in front of him.

You’ve got his full attention now. There’s maybe a few inches of space between his face and your much larger belly, that has grown significantly since you last saw him, and his focus is drawn to it. You take this opportunity to slowly brush your fingers along the side of his head… His eyes close as you push his hat back enough to card through his hair. You think to yourself how soft his hair is and how good it feels between your fingers. Both of his arms reach up and lightly brush your sides where they hover there. He won’t attempt to touch you in any way without your say so. He looks up at you now and your barely perceptible nod is all he needs before his hands lightly grasp your waist and he pulls you closer. He buries his face against your middle - Your belly getting in the way, but he pulls back slightly, and lays his right hand flush against it.

You feel like you are frozen… Not with fear, but with a feeling you can’t even begin to describe. All you know is that it is so good and so intense, that you never want it to end.

It’s at this moment, he leans forward and closes his eyes, whispering a kiss just above your belly button. The moment his lips touch the soft fabric of your shirt, you start to cry. Your tears are flowing unbidden down your cheeks, lightly splashing onto Frankie’s hair. He looks up and once he sees your tears, he stands and grabs both of your hands. He begins shushing you quietly. Whispering softly, “Shhh, shhh… It’s ok…. It’s ok….” as he pulls you in and wraps his arm around your head - bringing you to his chest while his other arm pulls you into his embrace. You reach up and place your hand on his chest, your face buried in his neck. Your other hand is against his back and you both just stay like that. You breathe each other in and let yourselves feel the warmth of the other. The sound of his heartbeat is a soothing rhythm to your racing mind. You reach your hand up to his neck and he is so warm. You hadn’t realized that after years without a loving touch, you are completely starved. Your hand continues moving up until you’re covering his cheek with your palm and you finally decide to look up. His eyes have been on you the entire time. Just waiting to see what you would do. He would hold you like this as long as you needed him to and he would cherish every second of feeling you against him.

He reaches up to cup your cheek. His thumb barely brushing your bottom lip and your lips part at the feeling. His thumb stops and just rests there as his fingers grasp your chin, tilting your head just a little higher. His eyes are still searching yours— Asking you, pleading with you to do something. Your hand moves to the back of his head, playing with the hair that lightly curls there.

He tilts his head down and closes his eyes as his forehead touches yours. You close your eyes and your breath hitches as the sheer intimacy of the situation hits you… It’s not just a sexual tension, although it’s there, sparking like a live wire ready to catch flame - But, no… This, right now, is more soul encompassing. Safe and Warm.

—

After what seems like no time at all, the anxious part of your mind remembers what brought you here… other than just being able to see him again. —“Frankie?” Your soft voice a question, barely perceptible over the sound of his heart.

“Hmm?” He breathes the sound into your hair.. not ready to separate just yet.

“What’s your plan?”

—Frankie’s eyes open at that, but he still doesn’t want to move. You hear him sigh, and he very reluctantly pulls away, not far, but enough so he can look down at you. His arms are still wrapped around you lightly. You’re angled to the left slightly to make room for your belly…

“I don’t know how much time we have.”

—“Don't worry about that querida. Pope has Tom all the way in the City and he’s going to keep me updated on how everything goes. That’s why I wanted to be here in town in case things went south, so you would be close to home and could get there quickly if needed.”

‘Home.’ You flinch at the word. You don’t even know what a home feels like anymore.

“Ok.”

After a moment, Frankie steps back and motions back over to the chairs he was sitting in when you got there — For this part he wants you to be sitting. He knows that you’re not going to be happy about it, but after talking to the guys, well Santi and Benny anyway. Besides Will, the only people who know Tom better than even he does, it seemed like the most plausible option that could get through to him. If anything or anyone could, it would be in an environment that Tom knew. In a situation and setting that he was normally in control of.

“So, Pope has this job that he’s been begging all of us to help him with for the last few months.”

“Who’s us?”

“Our old team. Aside from Pope, there’s me, Will and Benny, and our fearless leader, Tom ‘Redfly’ Davis. It’s not on the books as a normal job, but kind of a free will mission.”

The confusion is evident in your face, but you don’t question it. He’s got a plan, so you just have to let him get it out.

—“This is, uh, well… I don’t think you’re going to like it, but I’ve thought about it. Enough to think that there’s a chance anyway. I’ve talked to the guys about it also, sparing details of course. But I talked to the people who know Tom the best. Santi and Will have known him longer than even I have and Santi agrees that this is the best way to try and get Tom to ‘see the light’, if you will.”

-You’re still confused. You don’t want to interrupt him, so you keep looking at him. Hoping it will start to make sense to you.

—“This job…. It would uh, require all of us working together as a team. Maybe as a team, we can also convince him that what’s been happening is wrong.”

You’re not sure what you expected, but talking to Tom? That was his plan??

“No. No, no, no, no, no…. Frankie, just talking to him isn’t going to solve anything. Tom may be your Leader out there,” you point toward the window. “But here?” There are tears running down your cheeks now. You told Frankie about your situation, but you didn’t tell him how deep it goes. He doesn’t understand that talking is pointless. Your emotions get the best of you and the floodgates open.

“Here, Frankie…. Here, Tom owns me. I’m essentially property. Sold to the highest bidder, who would pledge to keep me safe. My Abuelo…” you shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut.

You breathe in, then out…. “My Abuelo promised me to him. After my Papá passed away, we went to live with him. I was young and the last thing I did was promise my Father that I would keep my Mamá safe and taken care of. I was an only child and she has always had problems with her health.”

—Frankie has been standing this whole time, so he slowly shifts to the chair and sits down. His face shows no emotion… he’s just taking in everything you have to say. You stumble a bit but eventually you work up enough courage to just spit it out.

“It was an arranged marriage, Frankie. Simply put, divorce is not an option. Especially now, being divorced and a single mother would be a disgrace to my family. My Abuelo knew Tom through family friends, Tom offered…. And so it just was….”

You look at Frankie and he is still stone faced. You continue despite the shame you feel at what happened next…

“Tom was handsome, had money, and was looking for someone to come home to when he was on deployments… You, well you know the rest.”

Your Abuelo had made it sound as though it was the perfect opportunity for you.

Frankie seems to take a moment to digest your words…

—“So what are you saying? That the only way out of this is ‘Til death do you part?’”

All you do is nod.

“But.. and please don’t think I’m being insensitive here, I’m just trying to understand.”

“Ok…”

“You don’t live in Cuba anymore. Things are different here. You’re allowed to marry and divorce as many times as you want! Hell, in some states you can marry multiple people at once!”

He’s breathing heavily. He doesn’t understand and can’t imagine why you would be such a stickler on this. Arranged marriages aren’t actually a thing here. Are they? Did you really not think you could leave a situation for any other reason than just not being happy??

“I don’t think you’re being insensitive. I know it sounds crazy.. It IS crazy. But Tom has done nothing but threaten to send her back to Cuba if I ever tried to leave. I could never let her go on her own. She needs me… and in Cuba, I would be divorced and now”— you motion to your pregnant belly, — “a single mother. I would be a disgrace to my family and I can’t do that to her. There has to be another way, but I don’t know what to do.”

—Frankie is thinking. There would be nothing to stop Tom. They could try to get him to have a change of heart. That was the plan… but for someone to be ok with the things he’s done and be complacent in it?

He had no idea that arranged marriages were even a thing. Some of the guys in their division would joke about mail order brides…. Women who (they claimed) would do just about anything for a Green Card, including marry a complete stranger with the promise of a cushy lifestyle. Frankie always thought it was pathetic how other men could be so shameless…

Not surprisingly though, he can recall Tom being in on those jokes… Imagining having someone sweet to warm his bed and cook his meals etc

He never dreamed that Tom would be capable of actually doing something like that. Not that those situations even remotely resembled what your life with Tom was like…. Just the fact that he treated you like property. That someone could feel about a person as though they were merely a possession to be used at their will rather than a living breathing human being.

No— Tom was a monster. And Frankie felt like a fool.

You were right. Talking wasn’t going to change anything.

So maybe they go on this mission and just… leave him there? What if? No… No Frankie wouldn’t think that way. There had to be a way to get you out of this.

—You see him thinking. His brow is furrowed and his hand is rubbing the bottom half of his jaw and the patchy scruff there… His eyes are focused on the coffee table. There was no way out of this. You knew it and Frankie was figuring it out too. He had been so sure in his plan. Santi and Benny had hyped him up that they could get through to Tom. The realization makes him feel sick.

Then suddenly he looks up at you.

His gaze is absolutely piercing as he stares you down. “So what then? There’s nothing we can do? You’re just stuck with this piece of shit you don’t even care about? Stuck with a man who treats you like garbage?”

—You’re looking at the floor now. Tracing the diamond pattern of the carpet to give yourself something to think about.

“I don’t know Frankie. Sometimes life isn’t fair. Sometimes we are forced to do things we really don’t want to do because not everything can be fixed. Not every story has a happy ending.”

“What’s your happy ending?” He says it so quickly and quietly that you almost miss it. When he says your name at the end you look up. “What? What did you say?”

“I asked, well I’m asking you, what would be your happy ending? If you could do things the way you wanted to, what would you do?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it because it was never a possibility.”

“And if it were? A possibility I mean? What would you do if you didn’t have to worry about Tom.?”

You have no idea honestly…. So you spout off with the first things that pop in your mind, aside from ‘You, you, you!!’ “Um, maybe, travel? Go see the world… make some friends? Maybe get a cat?”

Frankie chuckles at that… he knows Tom’s not a fan of animals in general. Really, he was the fucking worst. His stomach clenches at how this has taken such a shitty turn..

“What about right now? If you could do anything, what would you do?”

You think you know where Frankie’s taking this. At this moment, there is no bright side to your situation. No exit strategy, no get out of jail free card, no nothing. The future looks bleak, options are null and there’s only one thing that you want that you know you’ll never get…. And that’s Frankie.

You look over at him and smile. There could be no future with him. Tom would never allow it. And the thought crushes you. You’ve never been asked what you wanted for yourself if you had the choice and the answer is screaming at you Frankie! Frankie! Frankie!!

You’ve always sacrificed your wants and needs for someone else. You made a promise to take care of your mother and you would do everything you could to keep that promise. But that didn’t mean that you couldn’t have tonight. One little taste of something you’ll never be able to have again.. And tonight, Tom was taken care of.

He was out of town, probably already drunk and you know he fucks whatever he wants to when he feels like it. You’ve known for a long time now. You weren’t the type of person to cheat. You believed in the sanctity of marriage and what your vows meant. You didn’t love Tom, but you were stuck with him. But right now, for the first time in your life, you make the decision to be selfish.

Frankie is still looking at you and his expression is hard to read. He looks lost. The unfairness of the situation is making him angry, but he’s also soft. He wants you. He wants to do everything he’s not supposed to and everything he won’t be able to do again.

You both stand at the same time, and he comes to you. His hands find your cheeks and he asks “what do you want?” in a register of voice you’ve never heard from him before. It sounds desperate. His eyes are on yours and he asks again, softer, “what do you want??”

Your answer is immediate—

“You. Frankie…. I want you.”

“You already have me. You’ve had me since that first day at the diner. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Tom won’t let me see you. Who knows when we will get to see each other again?

“I don’t care. I’ll figure out a way. I got you here tonight didn’t I?”

“Yes but it’s been two months Frankie… in another two months I’ll be a mother and we won’t be able to sneak away like this. This isn’t fair!!”

He pulls you forward and puts his lips to your forehead. You lift your head and find his eyes. Your eyes move down slightly and you find his lips and you suck in a breath. He’s so close, you can feel his breath on your cheeks. He smells like a light soap and a very distinct smell that is just his. The slight tang of gasoline mixed with the vanilla from his truck.

His hand makes its way to your chin and he lifts you to his mouth slowly. His lips are soft, and light just like last time, but he quickly pours himself into you and they become bruising. He breathes you in and immediately starts moving his hands across your arms….

Tears are running down your cheeks and you decide that you’re done fighting this.

Frankie’s mouth opens to speak and you stop him as you forcefully pull his lips back to yours. You begin peppering his mouth with kisses, like you can’t get enough…. Frankie has your hand and is playing lightly with your fingers as he pushes you back slightly. His tongue finds yours in what has turned into a flurry of movements and neither one of you knows where to go with this so you each just kiss every bit of skin you can find on the other. Frankie’s kissing the side of your head as you kiss the patch in his beard that never can fill in completely.

You run your fingers through his hair, knocking his hat onto the floor as he begins to kiss down your neck, and your entire body is on fire.

Hormones or not, the man knows how to use his mouth and every bit of skin he’s touched is illuminated and tingling and you want him everywhere all at once.

Your hands start to grab for his jacket… pulling at his shirt and running your hands up and down his stomach. You’re completely buzzing for him.

You can’t remember there ever being a time that you’ve felt this way. Tom having been your one and only, because, up until now, you held true to your vows even though it was a sham….. Even though you didn’t love him, he was your husband and you tried to make it work in the beginning. Tom was the one who couldn’t care less.

It angers you even more that you really did put so much into your marriage. You did everything you could to be the wife he wanted. You thought that things would change, and that maybe one day you could love him. Instead, he used you and never once

Frankie made you feel Wanted. He wanted you. He wanted you and not just for selfish reasons. He never made you do anything you didn’t want to. He never made you feel guilty, or inadequate, or like you didn’t matter. You always mattered to Frankie. He respected you and respected your choices in all things. If you were to stop, right now, and tell him you didn’t want to do this anymore, he would simply stop. No questions asked. He would never force you, or make you feel like your opinion was stupid. That realization hits you with such intensity that you’re drunk with it knowing that Frankie would always give you that power. Because it was yours.

You stop your movement, while still clinging to frankies’ shirt. You look up to him and your eyes are pleading. His brown eyes are blown wide and he nods - slowly pushing you backward toward the bed. His eyes never leave yours as the back of your legs make contact with the bed and you sit down. Frankie kneels before you… His hands are on your thighs, lightly rubbing up and down the soft material of your leggings. Your hands grab his cheeks and you pull him back to your lips— Tasting him again before you run your hands down his neck and inside the top of his t-shirt. You lightly graze his collar bone and he growls, his hands leaving your thighs to start shrugging off his jacket. Your hands find their way back to his hair and you pull slightly, bringing him forward so he is eye level with your heaving chest —something that has also increased in size since you last saw each other. You’re wearing a thin long sleeve charcoal gray top that has a scooped neckline that covers your growing bust, but would be very easy to move aside.

He leans forward and is kissing your neck again. Going slow, but very obviously making his way down your chest to the top of your shirt, he looks up at you and gives a greedy smile before turning his attention back down. His right hand has also been slowly making its way higher. Fingertips lighting a fire up your side until his large palm is lightly groping your breast —testing the weight in his hand… “God your tits are perfect,” almost to himself, but you heard him loud and clear.

“Frankie!!” You shriek in surprise at his choice of words… You’ve never heard him talk like that before and you feel your cheeks heat while something else churns in your lower tummy. “Sorry! Sorry, It’s uh, been awhile since I’ve.. been with someone. I don’t always think before I talk, especially with you. So, if I say or do anything you’re uncomfortable with, just tell me. Ok?”

“It’s ok,” you giggle at him. You’re not upset in the slightest. “I’m just not used to this. Besides Tom, you’re the only person I will have, um… been with like this.” You’re not sure why, but you can’t stop yourself before saying,

“But you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted like this.”

Frankie gulps and nods, before surging back up and capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. Everything in it tells you that he is going to take care of you. He slowly stands up and leans over you. Prompting you to scoot backward until he can kneel on the bed… His arms are on either side of your head, and you reach up and start running your hands up and down his forearm.

“Look at me,” he says your name and you meet his eyes. “If I do anything you don’t like…. Anything at all, please tell me.”

-“I will Frankie. I trust you.”

At the word trust, he silently loses his mind just a little. He gently caresses your face and pulls you in for another kiss, trailing his hand down your side before following the curve of your belly and resting his palm on top. “It’s not gonna, um, we’re not….” He sighs, not finding the right words. “I don’t want to hurt you. Or the baby.”

“You won’t hurt me Frankie. The baby is perfectly fine. At this stage, sex is completely safe.” You know that Frankie would never hurt you. You needed him to know that it was going to be ok.

“Ok. I’ve never uh, been with someone who was pregnant before.” His face flushes a deep red. “Me neither,” you say. His eyebrows almost reach his hairline and you have no idea where this sudden tenacity is coming from, but you couldn’t help it but to tease him.

“Frankie, it’s ok. I promise. It looks like this is just going to be a first for both of us then.” You smirk at him and he captures your lips again.

His hand starts teasing at the hem of your shirt until slowly going underneath. His hand is so warm and his rough palm feels amazing against your sensitive skin. He reaches up again, grasping your breast and squeezing it lightly, “This ok hermosa?,” Your eyes are closed so you just nod. The feeling is… overwhelming. He continues to massage your tender flesh until he his hand out and tugs down the top of your shirt, revealing your cleavage to his waiting mouth. He kisses the tops of your breasts and drags the fabric down further to expose your bra. It’s nothing special, but it’s functional while also providing comfort. He puts his hand inside, pulling you out completely… exposing your nipple to the cool air, but it is quickly replaced by a damp heat as his mouth completely engulfs the tightening bud.

“Oh my God, Frankie…” Your hands are back in his hair, holding him to you. His tongue starts lapping at you slowly, circling around your now hardened peak. The sensation is so intense, that you feel your arousal gather between your legs, and you shift slightly. Moving your legs together to give yourself some relief.

Frankie takes your movement as a good sign so he pulls you completely into his mouth and sucks, hard. Hard enough that your eyes go up into your head and you moan—the noise coming from you unrecognizable. Frankie just smiles around your nipple, sucking lightly while he takes in your reactions.

After a moment, he feels a little spurt of something in his mouth. He releases your nipple and looks down and you’re leaking. A thin opaque fluid dripping off of your nipple and onto your shirt. You look down when you feel his mouth leave you and you are absolutely horrified to see him staring at your leaking breast. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry…..” You go to sit up, but Frankie stops you.

“What are you sorry for Bonita?”

-“This! I, I didn’t even think about it….” the embarrassment makes you frantically attempt to cover yourself.

“Hey, stop. Stop. it’s ok.. It was just a surprise is all. It’s actually kind of sweet.” He smiles at you as he dips his head back down to taste you again.

Your brain completely short circuits at that so you just let your head fall back and savor the feeling.

Frankie moves to the other side and you are actually whimpering from the feeling of his mouth alone. His hand goes back to work and tweaks the nipple of your now neglected breast while his tongue wraps around the other. He can’t get enough of the noises you’re making and he has to shift his lower body to take some pressure off of his rapidly growing erection that is currently pressed tightly against the front of his jeans.

You bring your hand up to card through his hair. Watching him work you over with his tongue. The sight is probably the most erotic thing you’ve ever seen up until this point and you feel another gush between your legs.

Frankie starts to shift his attention lower to just under your breast and makes his way down, kissing your belly with a look of pure joy on his face. His hand makes its way to the top of your leggings. His fingers play with the waistband before dipping underneath slightly. He looks up to you at this. Another question on his face asking if you’re still ok.

You nod quickly and he keeps his eyes on you as his fingers slowly reach underneath the thin fabric. His fingers lightly move across your hip bone, moving inward. He’s still looking at you when his fingers reach your center only to find your underwear completely soaked through. He has yet to touch you skin to skin, but you’re squirming and desperate for him to add even just a hint more pressure to your aching center. Your hand reaches down on top of his, adding to the pressure you so desperately need. “Shhhhhhh… shhhhhhhh… I’ve got you….”

-“Frankie??” You’re pleading with him to touch you as he moves his face back up to yours. He’s still looking at you as his touch increases, gauging your reaction. The more pressure he adds, the more his mouth opens, ready to swallow your moans as soon as they leave you.

You cry out when he finally pushes his middle finger up against your clothed clit and rubs lightly. Fuck, Tom never gave a shit about your needs when it came to sex. Maybe in the beginning, but rarely. You were always left to take care of it yourself after he passed out. Most of the time you wouldn’t even bother. But this is Frankie… so you let the thought of Tom fall away from your mind and focus solely on him and how he is making you feel.

You’re breathing increases and Frankie removes his hand to caress your cheek again. He laughs lightly at your frustration, your pleas— “No no no… Frankie please, please don’t stop…” make him smile up at you.

He takes his finger and pushes it up against your lips to shush you. “Let me take care of you bonita. I’ve got you ok? Just let me know if I need to stop.”

And at that, Frankie shifts to his knees and makes his way down your body. Kissing down between your breasts, over your shirt to your stomach, to just above the waistband of your leggings. Looking back up as he hooks his fingers into them and pulls down. He leaves your underwear in place —the light pink cotton darkened by your arousal. He rolls the thin material down and slowly takes off your shoes one by one as he removes your leggings completely.

Once your legs are free, he wedges himself between them, kissing up the inside of your thighs starting at your knee. He slowly makes his way up from your right leg, across the top of your underwear and then back down your left. Every touch of his lips on your skin has your hips arching up of their own accord.

“So impatient, Querida.” He tsks. “Trust me, I’m going to savor every bit of you.” You’re dizzy with his words so you just nod and lay back. You do trust him, so you let him take control and try to slow your breathing.

Frankie reaches up and laces his fingers with yours, holding you in place as he finally, buries his face between your legs. He breathes in deeply, and lets out a shaking moan. “God, you smell so fucking good….” the last word ending with a whine. He still holds your hand, but uses his other to gently pull your underwear up between his fingers. Pulling it tightly up against your swollen clit a few times, before moving it completely to the side, exposing you to his hungry mouth.

Frankie said he was going to savor you and he meant it. He is going so painfully slowly, when all you want is for him to put your clit in his mouth. Instead, he is breathing you in, rubbing the scruff of his cheeks against you. The feeling of his facial hair against your over-sensitive skin makes you almost growl.

He’s teasing you, but only to add to the anticipation of what is to come.

Finally, finally his tongue peeks out of his mouth and lightly runs up your soaked seam, from your dripping entrance to your clit. “Oh my GOD….Frankie???” Your pleas turn into whispered praises.. “Francisco, oh… mierda. Si…”

You let out a string of nonsense in English and Spanish and Frankie just chuckles to himself as he continues. Your accent becomes thicker as you lose yourself, that you honestly don’t even realize you’re saying anything. Flattening out his tongue, he gently lays it on your clit and starts moving his head in a circular motion. Dipping down every so often, bringing more of your arousal up to your peak.

Your pussy has him feeling drunk. Your sweet musky taste, like water to his parched mouth. He drinks you in, your pussy already so fucking wet, his head spins with it. He can’t believe he’s getting to taste you like this. He’s known how he’s felt about you for a long time, but to actually be here? With your fucking pussy in his mouth? Fuck, he thinks he could come just from the thought.

Frankie kisses up your seam slowly, kissing every inch and finally leaving a kiss on your clit before sitting back and looking up at your face. You look every bit the mess that you sounded like… Your forehead is damp, your hair sticking to the side of your face. You’re looking at him now with a confused look… Why did you stop? sitting on your lips. —He just smiles and brings himself forward, kissing you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. He pulls away quickly and moves back down, hooking his fingers under the band of your underwear and ripping them down your legs.

He takes your right leg and pushes it up, bending your knee so your foot is flat on the bed.

He then takes your other leg and hitches it over his shoulder. You settle your foot on his back, pulling him closer to you. He immediately takes his fingers and makes a V shape, running it from your clit all the way down, squishing your lips together and back up again. He takes a moment and sucks your clit into his mouth at the top of the V of his fingers. You could almost cry at how good it feels.

“More Frankie, please, please…..” You need to feel something inside you… This entire time, Frankie hasn’t breached your entrance, even with his tongue and you’re getting desperate.

He knows what he’s doing, but he wants to hear you tell him. “What do you need, querida? Tell me what you need.”

“Need to feel you. Need you inside me, Frankie please.

“Yes ma’am..” And at that you feel him drag his index finger from the top of your clit, down, down, down until gently pushing into your weeping sex.

“Oh, oh fuck.” Your words come out in a gasp as he resumes his place at your clit, wrapping his lips around it while slowly pushing in and out of you. You are wrapped so tightly around his finger, that he’s hesitant to add another, but your moans of more, more have him lightly testing the addition of another.

The feeling of his mouth on you while simultaneously fucking his fingers into your throbbing core has you almost flailing on the bed. Your hands spread wide on either side of you, your leg wrapping around Frankie’s head, you worry that you're going to hurt him, but he’s humming encouragingly into your pussy so you take it as a sign he’s ok. Finding his head with your hands, you grip his hair and slowly move him up and down. Frankie is just as affected by the action as you are.. “Fuck yes baby, use me,” comes his garbled reply.

If you weren’t so close to going over the edge, his words would have you blushing like a virgin. But if anything, right now it only spurs you on and you shudder against him.

Frankie can tell you’re close, just by your whimpers and how you’re practically grinding his face into you. He curls his fingers up and focuses on the little spongy area there, while sucking your clit into his mouth again, using the flat of his tongue to rub side to side. Your grip on his hair tightens to the point of actual pain, but he loves it - loves knowing that it's his mouth and his fingers that are doing this to you. You arch up and your orgasm hits you hard… Flooding Frankie’s mouth with your slick and almost crying at the intense feeling. Frankie works you through it. Slowly moving his fingers in and out as you come down. His tongue is barely there, but still lapping at you, the feeling adding to the aftershocks and you are shaking with it.

When the clenching slows, he slowly withdraws his fingers. He holds them up above you so you can see your slick dripping as he spreads them in the air. Then he brings his fingers to his mouth and moans as he sucks them clean.

Frankie scoots up, coming to your side and running his hand over your belly lightly. You turn to him and he’s looking down at you, “that ok hermosa? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

You laugh at that, because you’re sure you may have actually ripped out some of his hair. “No Frankie, you didn’t hurt me. That was… mmmmm..” He kisses you and you hum lightly into his mouth. You’re completely sated for the moment, but his kisses are quickly becoming more frantic.

The heat in your lower belly begins to stir and your hands start to wander. Reaching down you just barely lift his shirt, grazing the soft skin of his stomach. You’re still technically clothed from the waist up, but so far the only thing Frankie has taken off is his jacket. You grab the hem and lift up. Frankie helps you by sitting up and pulling his shirt over his head. His chest is bare, save for a little patch of hair in the center of his chest and a line of hair leading underneath his navel down to his jeans. He leans back down and kisses you again, his tongue begging for entrance to your mouth and you let it.

Frankie’s hand trails up and down your sides, reaching down and grabbing a handful of your ass as he pulls you toward him and brings your leg over his hip. He starts to walk his fingers down the back of your thigh, then brings it back up to play with the swollen lips of your pussy from behind.

He swallows your gasp and moans into your mouth, still toying with your puffy lips.

You start to kiss down his cheek, down to his jaw and behind his ear, nibbling on his earlobe a little bit, which gets you a growl of pleasure out of him. He leaves your backside, opting to grip your thigh for leverage as he lets you take control. You slowly move down his throat until you reach the juncture between his neck and shoulder where you lightly suck, leaving behind a couple of bright red spots that you secretly hope he’s able to see tomorrow.

You run your lips down to his collarbone and you take your time there. Licking up and around, before kissing down the hollow of his throat. Frankie is still gripping your leg, tightening his hold and squeezing fingerprints into your thigh with every pass of your tongue. His breathing has increased and when you look up at him, his eyes are on you. His pupils are blown wide and his cock is throbbing, but he wants to see you like this. He wants to see you navigate his body and see what you do with it, without interference.

You take a moment to reach up and kiss his mouth again. His eyes close immediately and he just breathes you in. Your scent is everywhere. In the air, in his nose, on his tongue and subsequently yours. He nips your bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth, before you pull away and tap his nose with the tip of your finger… He tries to bite it, but you quickly pull away only to slowly move it down to his chest. You toy with the soft patch of hair there before lightly drawing lines across him, moving to circle a nipple, then the other. Now that gets a reaction, and his whole body shudders as goosebumps cover his chest. You lightly scrape your nail across his sensitive skin, back to his left nipple before replacing your finger with your mouth, flicking it with your tongue and Frankie groans “fuck, beautiful…. You’re killing me..”

—You just wink at him before blowing slightly, making the pebbled flesh tighten to a hard peak. Frankie huffs a shaky breath, and you are enjoying his reactions just as much as performing the acts themselves. You want to see what else you can pull out of him, so you kiss across his chest and pull his other nipple into your mouth, giving it the same attention as the first. Slowly circling with your tongue and giving it a quick kiss at the tip. His hands move to your hair and lightly comb through it with his fingers. He loves feeling you like this — knowing you’re in control and he’s just along for the ride.

You continue to kiss down his abdomen, his tummy soft, and you start rubbing your nose through the light dusting of hair there before you follow the trail down to the top of his jeans. Your hands have also started their own exploration; running up and down his thighs, moving up to his side and watching his abdomen shake with how sensitive the skin there is. You make a mental note to see how ticklish he is, should you get the chance to be this close to him again. For now though, you want to make him feel as good as he made you feel. You scoot down slightly, and begin trying to work the button of his jeans with your fingers before his hands stop you. Confusion showing on your face as you look up to him; “you don’t have to do this querida..”

—You quickly reach up and put your finger to his lips, “Frankie, shhhhhhh…. I want to do this. I want to make you feel good”. -You were going to kill him with just your words alone. You had no idea how they affected him.

“I want to taste you. Will you let me Frankie? Can I taste you?” — He’s a fucking goner… Frankie is sure he just fucking died and went to Heaven and you hadn’t even touched him yet.

All he does is nod with his mouth slack jawed and his cock begging for attention just underneath your hands.

You slowly start working the button of his jeans, lightly fingering the line of his zipper with your index finger all the way down between his legs —teasing him, purposely trying to torture him, but in the best possible way.

You walk your fingers back up the now very prominent outline of his length, to get to the zipper and slowly unzip him the rest of the way. You do to him what he did to you and you pull his jeans down just a little bit, running your hand over his boxers, but just barely. Lightly running your fingertips from the base of his clothed cock, up to the tip, you scratch the head ever so gently and Frankie actually gasps for air at the feeling. “Oh fuck!”

You feel wetness at the tip and see a small wet spot. Without thinking about it, you reach over and flick your tongue over the top, tasting the salty precum and moaning at the warmth radiating through his boxers.

—Almost instantly Frankie’s hands are in your hair, pulling it back slightly and tucking a stray piece behind your ear as your tongue continues to lick at him. Your saliva only adding to the growing wet patch in the fabric. His breathing quickens and his body is almost shaking.. you finally decide to show him some mercy by ripping down the waistband of his boxers and jeans and enveloping his cock in your wet mouth without warning.

“Ohhhh shit.”

“Shit. shit!! Oh my God baby, fuck… your mouth… fuck, you’re so pretty. Pretty fucking mouth….” — He’s sputtering complete nonsense… half sentences full of praise and absolute filth.. You love it—

You slowly lap at the underside of his cock, making your way down to the base and back up again. There’s another drop of precum at the tip and you want to taste it, but instead you grip him in hand and rub the tip with your thumb— the slick making your swipes smooth back and forth. Now you come up and taste him. His musky scent has your mouth watering, saliva pooling under your tongue. You let it drip from your tongue onto his tip and stroke up and down with your hand. “Holy shit….” comes Frankie’s gravelly voice, unaware that he was still watching you. But you basically spitting on his cock has Frankie looking absolutely feral.. His pupils are black yet again and you think ‘how many times can they do that before they pop out of his head??’

“Was that alright?”

All he does is nod and you smirk up at him before slowly diving back down onto his cock -keeping eye contact the entire time. His mouth drops open, but his eyes never leave yours, his cock like steel in your hand.

You keep up the pace, bobbing up and down slowly, stopping occasionally and licking at the sensitive spot on the underside of his cock that makes his eyes squeeze shut and he moans out curses in Spanish almost every time.

—Your left hand trails up his leg and reaches inward, grazing over the soft skin of his inner thigh before reaching his balls, your touch pulling a hoarse groan and more curses from Frankie. Your right hand is now pumping the base of him that you can’t fit into your mouth while you continue sucking and kissing at his tip.. The words coming out him now make you hum to spur him on. No real train of thought, just praises and whatever is coming into his head at the moment;

—“Fuck…. Fuck baby… Could live with your mouth on me, God…. can’t fucking wait to feel you. Fuck… Want you to ride me… wanna watch your perfect tits bounce while I fuck you…” The words leave his mouth in such a rush, that you’re not sure if he’s truly talking to you or if he’s just thinking out loud. His eyes are still closed and his breathing has increased. You could probably finish him with not much more effort, but you’ve been aching to feel his cock inside of you, so you slow your movements.

Frankie checks in at the sudden shift in speed. You pull your mouth off of him and nod slowly. You lean forward and kiss him, continuing to pump him with your hand. You slowly maneuver your body over him —as easily as you can with your belly at its current size anyway— and position yourself above his cock. The tip red and swollen, weeping precum from how close you had gotten him with your mouth. Frankie finally realizes what’s happening and his eyes shoot open and find your face. “I… are you sure?”

“I’m sure Frankie. I want to feel you.”

—“Come ‘ere…” Frankie surges up and captures your lips. You use the movement to help steady you as you line him up with your entrance. You breathe out slowly into his mouth and you both moan loudly as you sink yourself down onto him. You go slow, to allow yourself time to adjust to his size. Tom hadn’t been small, but Frankie is definitely thicker and you want to savor the feeling of being stretched out by him.

Frankie’s hands are on your waist now, eyes closed and just feeling you as you slowly pull him in all the way until you feel his coarse hairs against your clit. “Oh my… Oh my God Frankie…. Oh…. Fuck.” You start to move, rocking your hips slowly in a circular motion.

—“Yes, fuck, you feel so good. I’m, I'm not gonna last…. fuck..”

Your hips move faster, finding a back and forth rhythm as your hands land on Frankie’s chest… nails scraping down, grabbing for purchase to try to keep your body upright.

His hands on your waist are almost bruising now with how tightly he’s gripping you… moving you, grinding himself into you….

His right hand winds around to your back and he almost sits up, burying his face in your breasts. Your back is damp with sweat, but he holds tightly… putting his right hand behind him on the bed to prop himself up. You hold his head to you and kiss his forehead, wrapping your arms around his neck and moving with him. This angle has him hitting so deep inside you, your breathing is coming in broken moans and your toes are curling. You’re coming almost instantly when you feel him reach between you, finding your clit and rubbing in smooth circles with his fingers. His hips stuttering, trying to find his own release, but wanting you to come again first. There are tears running down your cheeks from the sheer intensity and you cry out. Your walls are contracting around him so hard that it’s only seconds before he’s following you… painting the inside of your pussy with his warm come and panting nonsense into your mouth as you both try to even out your breathing. He’s kissing you again, but slowly… toying with your tongue languidly as he comes back down to earth. His cock softens inside you, and you just stay. Neither one of you ready to pull apart just yet.

—Frankie starts to rub his face against your breasts, pausing to kiss between them. He takes a nipple into his mouth and just holds it there.. his tongue slowly lapping up what you’re sure has been leaking since you started earlier.

You run your fingers through his damp hair, trailing to the back of his neck and scratching lightly at his scalp. His eyes stay closed and he hums, enjoying the feeling. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so relaxed in his life… never more at peace than just holding you like this.

—He never wants to let go.

Before long though, you feel him start to tense slightly, but he’s made no move to break apart from you. You think the high has begun to wear off and the gravity of your situation is hitting him…. As it is you.

Where do you go from here? There’s no plan in place… There’s no straight path from here, that brings you back together again. You know that once you leave this space, leave Him, that there’s no telling when or if you’ll get to see him again. You pull him tighter to your chest as the realization yet again washes over you. New tears fall freely down your cheeks and you just hold onto him. Frankie… who has done so much for you, who has made you feel more like a real person in the short months you’ve known him than you’ve felt in your entire life.

—You pray for an answer, a solution that you desperately hope ends with you being free to be with the other.

You feel Frankie lean down and kiss the top of your belly. The act so endearing to you; What you miss though, is Frankie whispering a prayer of his own. A prayer to keep you safe and a promise that he would find a way to be with you again. Both of you.

—

Taglist: @boliv-jenta @heythere-mel @hnt-escape @harriedandharassed @just-here-for-the-moment @something-tofightfor @readingiskeepingmegoing @bitchwitch1981 @sunnysidekit @littlemisspascal @queridopascal-main @dashavau @imaswellkid @quica-quica-quica @mymo-n @wildemaven @pastelnap @tanzthompson @jb2856

A/N: There are definitely some flow issues with this one, but I kept getting stuck. Hopefully it wasn’t too awful to get through, but I appreciate any and all feedback, just be kind. I also wouldn’t mind an extra beta if anyone is interested, on top of my girl @just-here-for-the-moment who’s been with me through this since the beginning. Thank you all!

[icanbeyourjedi-writes]

Dear Frankie, Chapter Six

Summary: It’s Tom and Molly’s wedding. For the first time you are a plus one…a plus one to the perfect man.  The wedding was going great, everything falling into place for it to be a night to remember.  Only it’s a nice that you would rather forget.  Words: 5587 Rating: 18+ SMUT please don’t read if you are under 18 Warnings/Triggers for series: Frankie is active duty military, deployment, death, Adult language, themes, and SMUT A/N: So I don’t really know anything…ok I know nothing about Fayetteville, North Carolina.  I am taking my own liberties on what it’s like there.  Names of places may exist, but I have no idea if they are real or not as well as some of the events I have.  But it's fan fiction and there are no rules.  While the reader may have some descriptions, I am doing my best to leave out physical characteristics. Just try to have a little imagination while you're reading this.  This story had come to be from that photo of Pedro in the white suit for the NYC premiere of Massive Talent. It made me think of an Angel, then talking with @tauralmie  kinda came up with this idea of a story where what if one deployment Frankie didn’t come home, and you had been dreaming of him so much, you see him wearing that white suit. That is how this little series was developed. 

**Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. **

-July 2012-

It was the first time you were a plus one at a wedding, and it was the first time in a long time you were excited for a wedding. You had promised Frankie that morning after that you were done with tequila. You and José Cuervo were over, it was a tough break up but you know he’ll make it through. 

You watch as Frankie fidgets with his tie again trying to make it perfect. He hated wearing his dress uniform, but you have to admit he looked beyond handsome and already earned many ribbon bars despite not being in the service for very long. His expert pilot skills have done him well. 

You just finished tying the strap of your gold butterfly heels and walked over to him standing in front of the mirror of your shared hotel room. A hand on his shoulder “here baby let me help you” you say softly and he turns to face you 

“I hate this fucking tie…if it wasn’t Tom’s wedding I could wear a normal suit” he huffs 

Because it was his officers wedding, and since Tom was active duty military the dress uniform was a must. The dark green suit, paired with matching dress pants. A lighter green shirt and a black tie. Black shoes, Frankie was able to convince Tom to forego the hat. Morales was written on a black bar name tag placed on the left of his broad chest, your eyes roam over those broad shoulders wondering what he might look like on your wedding day. Would he still be active duty, would he be retired…does he even want the marriage thing?

“Don’t get me wrong, you look good in your normal suit” you smile as your fingers work their magic, tying his tie “but this suit…it’s doing something for me” 

“Shut up” he rolls his eyes, his hands hold your hips “but let’s talk about this…the dress, is it new?” 

It was indeed new, shades of purple pansies midi dress. The dress stops just below your knees showing off your toned calves. The thin straps of fabric criss-crossing in the back, the knot rests on your lower back. The dress showed off just enough in the front to be respectful, where the back showed much more skin.

“It is, wanted something special for a special day…but really this suit. You look really handsome” you kiss his cheek 

“Thank you,” he wraps his arms around you pulling you into a hug “oh oh before I forget, I have something for you” 

He lets go of you quickly and you watch him move to his duffle bag. Opening it up and pulling out a small red bag he turns back towards you. The bag looks so small in his large hands, he stops in front of you holding the bag out for you. You take the bag by the little black strings and carefully remove the white tissue paper, finding a velvet box inside 

“Frankie,” you gasp in shock, “what is this?” 

When I looked inside that little bag the last thing I expected to see was a little black velvet box. My heart nearly stopped when I saw that.  I don’t think I could stop my hands from shaking when I took that little box out.  Frankie Morales, you always find a new way to take my breath away.  I will never understand how or why I deserve someone like you.  But I am so happy that you ran into me that day.

You were shaking when you pulled out the box and set the bag on the dresser next to you. Frankie’s hand covers yours holding the box. “Breathe Estrella…breath” he helps calm you down. You open your eyes and look down at the box that the two of you open together.  Inside the box, a silver helicopter charm. A silver chain with it, your hands start to shake even more the longer you look at it and take in all the details.  One of the large blades of the helicopter has his name, F. Morales written in elegant cursive. Another one of the blades has the date you two met.  The next blade is your nickname for him, Tu Pescado and the last blade is the name he has been calling you…Mi Estrella. The thought behind each blade had tears forming in your eyes. His hands quickly cup your face and his thumbs wiping away the tears before they have a chance to fall. 

“I didn’t mean to make you cry” he smiles

“And you claim you don’t do the romance thing” you stare at the necklace a little longer before looking up at him “Frankie, this is…I don’t even have the words for it” 

“I was hoping it would be ready for your birthday, but the engraving took a little longer then expected” his hands still hold your face 

“Frankie, it's perfect.  Thank you, will you…” before you can even finish the question he is nodding his head yes picking up the delicate piece of jewelry from your shaking hands. You turn and lift your hair off your shoulders as he puts the necklace on you. Your fingers hold the charm. You don’t know what you did to have this man be a part of your life but you were happy he was.

Tom’s actual brothers were his two grooms men. It was a smaller wedding, you sat towards the back with Frankie and the guys. Will brought Chole while Santi and Benny were planning on finding a nice girl at the wedding. Your hands resting in your lap when Frankie reaches over taking one of yours with his. He brings the back of your hands to his lips. He laces his fingers with yours and sits them on his thigh as the wedding begins. 

Hearing Molly talk about missing Tom while he was away, but making the most of the time they had together. How she promised to love him through it all. Despite the distance and the worry they were stronger now than ever before. How she is honored to carry his last name. It got you thinking even more if this exact moment would be in your future with Frankie. When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking at you. Eyes taking in all of your features, as if he is trying to take a picture in his mind of this moment and you can’t help but wonder if he is thinking the same thing as you. 

The Best Man speech and Maid of Honors speeches had been done, the dinner finished and the dancing had begun. You and Frankie found your own little area on the dance floor, away from most of the dancing couples, your own slice of Heaven on a corner in the dance floor.  Frankie keeps looking over towards the DJ every few moments as if he was expecting a song to play. “So, I normally don’t take requests during my wedding playlist but this was a special request and something that I had a hard time saying no to.  So everyone grab your partner and make your way for a doe-see-doe on the dance floor” Frankie’s smile’s widens and pulls you in close.

“Blame it all on my roots, I showed up in boots…” he sang into your ear his arms wrap around your waist, spinning the two of you “I was the last one you thought you’d see there” his lips brushing over your ear with each word sending shivers down your spine

‘Frankie…” you pull your head back to look at him

“Honey…we may be through but you’ll never hear my complaaaaain” he smiles as everyone around the two of you start to chime in with the first chorus. “You said you wanted to hear me sing” he tells you before quickly kissing your forehead. His lips linger just a bit longer, his hands sliding up your body and along your arms reaching for your hands. 

You can’t help but smile, Frankie always found a new way to make you fall in love with him. He takes a step back still holding on to your hands, raising them up and spinning you he brings your back to him. Arms crossed in front of your body, hands still linked together, the two of you sway to the music. You seemed to be in your own little Heaven not caring about the line dancing going on around you, 

Frankie wrapped around you his chin resting on your shoulder, kissing just below your ear “Well I guess I was wrong, I just don’t belong” he sighs and you lean your head against him, his  arms tightening just a bit around you. 

You pull a hand away from his, and cup his face. Thumb rubbing along his jaw as your fingers find his hair “Well, I’ll be as high as that ivory tower…” you sing with him 

“I’ve got friends in low places…” the two of you sing together and you bring your lips closer to his waiting for him to close the distance, which he happily does. His grip loosens and you turn your body to face him. Fingers threading through his hair. You smile against his lips, pulling away he runs his nose along the side of yours 

“I love you” no matter how many times he utters those words. Three simple words that make your heart flutter like it’s the first time you're hearing him say them. 

Your arms wrap around his neck, “I love you too” you say before kissing him again. His arms wrapping around you and picking you up spinning you around on the dance floor. No matter the situation Frankie was always finding a way to make you feel like you're the only two in the world. 

“All right, all right…it’s that time of the night I would like to invite all the ladies to the dance floor, and Mrs. Davis to the front of the room. It’s about time we find out who the next lucky lady is” the DJ comes over the speakers 

Benny pats Frankie on the back as your fingers slowly slip from his. You can hear him mutter something to him as you make your way to the center of the dance floor, Molly making direct eye contact with you. She winks before turning around, “one…two…three…”

I used to think this part of the wedding was stupid. I never believed that catching the bouquet meant that you were next in line. I don’t even know if this is something that you want. Do you want marriage? Do you want the family life…speaking of family, do you want babies?

Molly was standing directly in front of you, when the bouquet was tossed all the other ladies stepped to the side, it was almost as if you were Moses and the seas had parted. The flowers landing directly in your outreached arms. You had been too focused on the flying flowers to notice that no one was even around you. You can hear a few men holler with excitement, turning to Frankie to see his checks start to flush and his friends clap with giddyness. You smile and wave the flowers at him shrugging your shoulders. 

Soon the men had swapped places with the women. Molly is sitting on a chair as Tom’s head is under her dress, the two of them having fun while he ‘searches’ for her garter belt wrapped around her thigh. Tom finally emerges with the black lace in his teeth. Every clapping when he stands up. You see him look at you. With a devilish smirk on his face he lines up his hands like a slingshot aiming directly at Frankie. The thin piece of fabric flies towards his face, Frankie snatching it out of the air. An awkward smile falls upon his face

“Looks like someone is gonna have to buy a ring…” Pope chuckles patting him on the back 

Frankie glances over at you, and you can’t help the small smile on your face. It’s the same smile that always appears when he looks at you, “shut up, man” Frankie grumbles 

“You know it’s a must. She has the bouquet you have the garter…it’s like a done deal” Benny chimes in punching his shoulder 

“I said shut up, it’s not like she’s gonna wanna marry me anyways” he groans looking at the massive weight in his hands “she’s gonna realize she can do better” he shoves the thing in his pocket and shakes off Popes hands 

“Fish, she’s cra…..” Pope starts 

“I said, leave it” 

You make your way over to the group who falls silent as you arrive. Tom and Molly are already there, all in on a little secret you wish you knew. You can tell Frankie is having an inner battle with himself. His eyes darting around the room, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Yay nervous tick you’ve picked up on. You give Molly a hug and tell them both congratulations on a beautiful wedding. Wrapping your arm around Frankie. His body tense. You place a hand on his stomach, and look up at him “hey…” you say softly

He doesn’t respond, you move your hand up. He finally looks at you. “Hey…you wanna…”

“Yes” he says before you can even finish your sentence. 

He takes your hand and all but drags you out of the dance hall. Bobbing and weaving through the people, before he finally comes to a stop at the elevator. He pushes the call button over and over as if the more he pushes it the faster it will come. His fingers still locked with yours, groaning with the elevator takes its sweet time arriving. “Come on…come on” you can hear him mutter under his breath. The ding to signify the arrival, “fuck finally” he says as the doors slide open. 

A mother and her two children exit the elevator, you smile at the little girl in pigtails when your arm is pulled and you stumble into the elevator. Frankie punches floor 7 and the little arrows that close the door. The doors slide close and before you can say something Frankie’s lips are on yours. A frantic kiss, the total opposite of the way he usually kisses you. The normal precision and calculated moves are all teeth and tongue. You have to pull away to try and catch your breath. As you do his mouth moves to your neck. 

“Frrraaaaaank,” you moan as he nips at your pulse point “mmmmm. Frankie” the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open. Frankie pulls away quickly. Moving to stand next to you and a couple steps on to the elevator. 

He laces his fingers with yours. You can feel his foot tapping impatiently. The elevator moving at a snail's pace for him. The light for floor 7 illuminates and the doors slide open. Frankie moves out of the elevator pulling you with him. The moment you exit and the doors close behind you, his hand moves to wrap around you. Pushing you up against the wall, a hand on your waist as the other pushed up against the wall trapping you there. Your hands hold onto the lapels of his jacket. The kiss is less frantic, this kiss more like the practiced dance the two of you have perfected. Pulling away, and quickly pecking your lips before resting his forehead against yours. 

“I…I love…you” he pulls away just enough to look at you. 

If you didn’t believe his words, you could see it in his eyes. His eyes looking at you like you put the stars in the night sky, that you are the key for any locked door, and the light in his darkness. You close the distance, lips finding his. The hand he placed on the wall releases, fingertips ghosting over your arm as he searches for your wrist. Wrapping his long fingers around it, he moves your hand around his neck before he places his hand on your waist. Doing the same motion with the other arm. He leans back just enough to lift your feet slightly off the ground. You pull back just enough to feel him nod against your head. His hands move just a little lower, you lift your legs to wrap around his waist. 

He walks you a short distance down the hall to your room. A hand letting go of you as he reaches into his pocket for the room key, his fingers brush over the garter belt that he shoved in his pocket earlier. Pulling out the card the garter belt falls to the ground and you can feel him fumble with the key trying to slide it into the card slot. You release one leg from his waist, tiptoes finding the ground before you place your foot down. Removing the other leg, you pull away. Your hand reaching behind you to find his and gently remove the card from his shaking hands. 

Turning around in his arms you slide the key into the reader and the little light turns green. You turn the handle of the door and push it open. Steeping inside, you hold the door open for Frankie who follows you in. You look down and notice the garter belt and bend down to pick it up. Frankie’s already at the closet hanging up his jacket and ripping his tie off, turning to face you with the garter belt twirling around your fingers. 

“You wanna talk?” you ask having a small idea that this is what was bothering him 

“No” he says, closing the distance between you quickly. Taking the thin lace fabric from your fingers and dropping it to the ground. His lips on yours and guiding you back towards the bed 

I don’t know what happened Frankie, I don’t know if it was the bouquet toss, or the garter belt. But I’ve been to enough weddings to know that it doesn’t always play out that way. Of course I’d be lying to you if I said my heart didn’t skip a beat when you were the one to get the garter belt, but there’s also something that tells me that this was all part of some elaborate plan.  Frankie, I love you, and of course I’d want to spend the rest of our lives together.

His lips on yours and his fingers find the thin string pulling it gently and unting the back of your dress. His fingers move to the thin fabric holding your dress up, sliding the fabric down. His lips move to your neck and you gasp as he sucks on your pulse point. Threading your fingers into his hair you sigh his name. Causing him to smile against your skin. 

“Are…you…are you…” you breathe out “sure?” 

He lifts his head, eyes dark brown and full of lust. He licks his lips and he nods. “You know I love you…” he says and you nod “…and you love me right?” 

“I do…” you respond, those words holding more meaning then you knew 

His nose trails along your neck, then along the curve of your jaw. Lips placing a kiss near your ear, “then let me take you to bed” he whispers “mi Amor” those words send a shiver down your spine and you nod your head 

“Ooo…” your heart races “ok” you voice is shaky 

He pulls back, his hands moving to slide off your dress. You both continue to look into each other's eyes as your dress falls to the ground. You take a deep breath, suddenly realizing just how exposed you were. He could see your body language change as his eyes roam down your naked body back up to you. You cross your arms over your stomach trying to hand as much of yourself as you could. He shakes his head and takes your hands, pulling them forward slightly for you to step out of the dress “you are so beautiful” 

You smile shyly at his comment, your eyes looking down. His places his fingers under your jaw tilting it back up so you are forced to look at him, “beautiful” he says again. Leaning in to kiss you. 

Slowly, every touch of his fingers, brush of his tongue over your lips sets your body on fire.  Your hands move to his chest, carefully trying to unbutton his shirt. With each button you move closer to the bed, when you slide the fabric off his broad shoulders, and down his large muscular biceps he gingerly lays you down onto the mattress. He tugs on your bottom lip as he pulls away. “Mmmmm” you sigh. He pushes himself off the bed reaching for his belt buckle. Unhooking the dark belt, and pulling it through the loops. You watch every movement he makes. As the belt hits the ground he reaches for your right foot, uniting the strappy butterfly on your heels and dropping it to the ground, kissing the top of your foot and then your ankle before moving to the left. Repeating the same steps as before, you can feel the goosebumps grow over your skin when his lips ghost over your skin

“Move up the bed,” he nods towards the pillows, he undoes the button holding his pants together and slowly unzips them, his pants fall to the ground leaving him in his tight black boxer briefs, the bulge beginning for him to release him. 

You do as Frankie asks, biting your lip in anticipation.  His fingers sliding into the waistband of his boxers, he bends over as he slides the fabric down his legs, standing back up. His cock at full attention, you didn’t have much to go on but Frankie was thick and long.  It’s not like you haven’t seen a penis before.  You’ve watched porn before, and there was that one time you accidentally walked in on Tyler, Heather’s Fiance…now husband, taking a shower.  Your heart starts to race and you begin to panic on how it is even going to fit, if he was going to fit and how painful this was going to be. 

He crawls back up the bed, like a lion hunting his prey.  His eyes locked onto you, spreading your legs to make room for him as he makes his way up the bed. His lips are on yours before you can say anything. 

To say I was panicked, was a bit of an understatement. Frankie, you knew exactly what you were doing.  I wondered if you knew just how big you were.  I am sure women have told you that before, and I was scared if I was even going to be able to take you, to make you happy.

You can feel the tip of his cock pressed up against you, and he breaks the kiss. Moving to his forearm to hold his weight off you, the other hand stroking himself and sliding the tip between your folds, “you have to tell me if I’m hurting your, if you want to stop…anything” his voice so much deeper than you’ve ever heard him speak before. You nod your head, fingers finding the chain of his dog tags that dangle above you, “Estrella, I need you to hear you say you understand, use your words ok. You say stop, we stop” 

“Ok, Frankie…” you reply nodding your head again, and pulling the chain around his neck back towards you, leaning up just enough to meet his lips 

His lips don’t leave yours as he begins to push in, you turn your head and cry out in pain. He slips and his hips meet yours as his cock slides up your mound. “Sorry” you choke out “try…try again?” 

He stares at you for a moment, leaning down to kiss the tears from your eyes. Asking are you sure without ever saying the words. You nod your head and he realigns himself again. You try to relax your body, try to hide the fear you know he can sense while he teases you ever so gently. Beginning to push in again, he pushes into you, biting your lip. He watches as you close your eyes, eyebrows scrunched together. You want to tell him to stop, but you also want to try again. He gets the tip in before pulling out, shaking his head. The feeling of pathetic, and sad washover you as you cover your face and start to sob. 

Frankie doesn’t know what to do, he hasn’t had this happen since he was 15 and his first time. He groans as he rolls away from you. It wasn’t you, he didn’t mean to make it sound like it but, his dick was painfully hard and he needs to find a release, he rushes into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. You hear the water turn on, hands covering your face is disappointment and embarrassment. How was this possible, what were you doing wrong. You swing your legs over the edge of the bed and move to your suitcase finding a pair of clean underwear and a shirt you throw both of them on, you slip into the sleep shorts you had sitting on the dresser. There was a knock on the door, and you look through the little hole to see who was standing there.  It was Molly with the bouquet of flowers you had forgotten downstairs.  You wipe your face and try to put on a fake smile, you didn’t want to have her see you crying.  

“Hi” you try to sound happy as you open the door

“Hey,” her cheerful voice suddenly changes when she sees you “hey…what’s wrong?” she asks 

“Nothing…nothing. Everything is fine…I’m fine.  Frankie’s in the shower” you avoid eye contact trying to focus on the flowers.  Hoping she will just drop them off and leave 

“You sure?” she questions, pushing it just a bit further 

You shake your head and take the flowers in her hand, “I’m fine, he’s fine…everythings fine. Thank you” and you close the door behind you. Walking to where Frankie had dropped the garter belt you picked up and wrapped it around the flower stems.  Tossing the both of them in the trash.  You move over to the window and open the curtain, crossing your arms and staring out at the night sky. The scene that just unfolded or didn’t unfold plays over in your head. 

I don’t know why you were with me Frankie, I don’t know why you stayed after I told you I was a virgin.  I knew this wasn’t going to work, you were always telling me that I could do better than you Francisco, and honestly deep down, I knew you could do better than me although you’d never believe me.  

The bathroom door opens and a cloud of steam follows Frankie out.  A towel wrapped around his waist, little water droplets cling to the ends of his hair.  His footsteps stealth like as he glides to you, a hand placed on your shoulder and rubbing down your back as you wipe away the tears from your eyes, “mi Estrella…amor,” he says softly before kissing your cheek

“Frankie, I’m sorry.  I…I understand,” you hands move to your necklace as you look at him.  “I get it if you want to break up, you know, find someone you can help you in ways I clearly can’t.  Find someone who isn’t a pathetic loser” your fingers find the clasp. His hands fly to your wrists and stop them before they move any further

“What are you talking about, why are you sorry? I should be the one saying sorry” he shakes his head, and brings your hands to his lips and places a soft kiss to your knuckles “I wanted you, I had a million things running in my mind about the night, I just…I forgot to prep you first” he starts

“Prep me?” you raise an eyebrow at him “Frankie I’m not a meal you can just prepare to eat” you shake your head giving him a small smile when you see his grin

“A man has to eat, and you look the perfect meal” his hand holds your waist, biting his bottom lip “we can try again” 

“Maybe later, Frankie. I just, I don’t feel…I don’t feel…” your voice trails off trying to think of the right words

“In the mood?” He finishes 

You weren’t sure if that was even the word for it. You try to tell him how you feel inadequate, how you aren’t going to be good, how you still feel like a loser. You pull your arms tighter around your body, a tear streaming down your cheek. Frankie places his hand around your neck, his thumb brushing along your cheek. You look at him, his eyes full of love and understanding “we’ll figure it out and it’s going to be great. At least I hope it’s great and I can only hope I live up to the expectations you have. I love you, more than I think I knew was possible. I will wait for you always, as long as it takes” 

“I love you,” your breath catches in your throat he always said he was the lucky one. But in this moment you knew you were the lucky one 

“I love you too” he gives you a sweet kiss, the kind that make you feel like your floating on air “let’s go to bed” 

Your forehead pressed up against the middle of his back, your arm wrapped around him. His hand a firm grip over yours, you slowly blink awake. His snores letting you know that he is still asleep, you place a kiss to his shoulder blade and try to slide your hand away from his chest. But in the attempt to move he only holds onto it tighter sliding his fingers in between yours. You smile and kiss his shoulder again “Frankie I have to pee…” you whisper smiling against his bare shoulder blade. He doesn’t move but the grip loosens just enough for you to slip your hand away from him. Kissing his shoulder one more time before rolling out of bed, your feet find the floor and you move as quiet as you can to the small bathroom. 

You stand in front of the sink, eyes still slightly puffy from crying last night.  However you discover a new little love bit, sitting just below your neck where the collar of your shirt meets your skin. You smile as the memory of Frankie kissing you plays in your mind, how did you get a guy like that.

A guy who not only is willing to wait for me to be ready, but is willing to be the first no matter how bad our first attempt went. Frankie, I can’t believe you are still a part of my life and I don’t know if there is ever going to be a way to tell you just how much I love you, but Frankie I do.  Thank you for proving that good guys still exist in the world. 

Opening the door you find he had rolled over, his hand placed on the bed where you had been laying. Eyes closed, and mouth open slightly letting soft snores escape.  He looks incredibly peaceful, the boyish features make your heart swoon and fall even more in love.  Glancing at the clock on the bedside table you realize you have a few hours before check out, not wanting to disturb Frankie you close the door to the bathroom once more and turn on the warm water, and step into the shower, preparing yourself for the day that lay ahead.  

Stepping out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around your head, and in your shorts and bra you freeze when you hear Frankie whistle at you. You whip around to see him packing up his duffle bag he brought with him. You quickly find his shirt that had been thrown on the ground from the night before and hold it in front of you. He crawls over the bed in his jeans and dark gray shirt, he reaches you in two strides and puts his hands on your hips. He leans into you, giving you a quick kiss on the lips before placing a kiss on your forehead.  His lips staying there a few moments longer, “...you know as much as I want to see you in this shirt, it looked better on the ground” he smiles kissing you again and you can feel your cheeks get warm. 

His hands move to the shirt, and you hand it over to him, “really?” you question him.  He nods, tossing the shirt over to his side of the bed where he was almost finished packing. Bringing his hands back to your waist and pulling you closer to him. Your chest pressed up against his, and his hands run up and down the length of your body. His face inches from yours, his hair still smells like the cheap shampoo from the hotel. “Frankie…” you start to stay when there was a knock at the door.

“Hold that thought, yeah?” He smiles and quickly kisses you.  Getting off the bed he runs to the door “This better be important” he says unlocking the door and opening it to find Benny 

“Oh it's very important…” you hear Benny chuckle “Pancakes or doughnuts?” 

[jotigerjotiger]

the worst mall couple imaginable

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Cramps

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

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

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

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

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

Bitchy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your period had come.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you. You’re the best.” 

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

“Oh shut up, meanie.” 

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

“Love you too. 🤍” 

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

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

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

“Frankie? Babe, are you home?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think I can make that happen.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Frankie, holy fuck.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taglist:

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

[daddydindjarin]

The Long and Winding Road Part IV: The French Quarter

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (no physical description of the Reader given)

Rating: 18+ Mature CW: alcohol, female masturbation, slight angst, feelings tbh

Wordcount: 4042

Summary: Bourbon Street offers good times and good drinks, but the two of you only seem to be thinking about each other.

A/N: Dividers by @firefly-graphics! Thank you especially to the discord besties for always encouraging me when I post the smallest of peeks, and treating it like it was a treasure.

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The sound of raucous laughter from outside of the semi-private courtyard did nothing to drown out how loud your heart sounded beating in your chest. A strong, quick, thumpthumpthump battering against your ribs like they were a closed gate, and your heart was trying to break free.

It was silly, you thought to yourself, your ears straining while listening for any sound changes from the bathroom, where Frankie had retreated to wash the grime from him. You could hear his low humming- maybe an Eagles song? - just under the patter of the shower, and the thought of Frankie feet away from you, wet and singing was doing nothing to calm your nerves.

You sat on the side of the bed, acutely aware of how awkward you looked, spine stiff and your hands wringing in your lap like a nervous teenager who had snuck out to a boyfriend’s house for the first time. “Come on, girl,” you whispered harshly to yourself. “It’s just two friends sharing a bed for the night. Stop being so fuckin’ weird.”

Logically, this shouldn’t even be an issue. You’d spent the better part of your sleeping time in a pop-up tent with Frankie, where there was very little room to be had. Nothing like the spacious carriage house you currently found yourself in. The King bed you were currently sitting on was bigger than your tent, so it would stand to reason that you’d probably not even touch each other in your sleep.

You didn’t know if that bothered you more.

You stood, reaching for your suitcase to grab a change of clothes and your toiletries, making a mental note to find a pharmacy close by to have you doctor call in a refill of your prescriptions. You heard the shower turn off, and you gathered your things as the sliding bathroom door slide open. Schooling your features, you turned, ready to smile at him, and tease him about leaving you some hot water, but the sight of him made your mouth run dry.

Frankie emerged from the bathroom with a cloud of steam following him. He was still wet, his dark hair slicked back where he had pushed it off his forehead in a hurry, lines of water trailing down his neck and onto his chest. You knew how broad he was, every tee-shirt he wore strained across his shoulders, but to see his shoulders and strong arms with water still clinging to his sparse chest hair was another thing entirely. Your eyes followed a droplet as it crossed its way over a nipple and down his slightly rounded stomach, losing sight of it in the trail of hair that disappeared below the towel slung low over his hips. You looked back up to his face to see him watching you with an intensity that you weren’t prepared for, his eyes dark and hooded.

“Hermosa,” he began, his hands twitching at his sides, and his voice broke you out of your trance, heat faring across your cheeks.

“Sorry!” you gasped out, nearly dropping your clothes as you fumbled to close your suitcase. “I was distracted, I didn’t mean to stare at you.” Like a piece of meat, you thought to yourself, briskly walking to the bathroom that was still humid from Frankie’s time in there.

As you slid the door shut, you thought you heard him chuckle, “It’s alright, I like watching you stare.”

You turned the shower on, pleased that the water pressure was so high, and stripped, setting your dirty clothes on the counter before looking at yourself in the mirror. You hadn’t spent much time analyzing your appearance, with other things taking precedence over a rigorous skin care routine, and you knew that you were showing small signs of aging, as was typical of someone your age. But, you wondered, what did Frankie see when he looked at you? Did he see the lines next your mouth and eyes? Did he notice that you get stress breakouts on your chin and forehead?

Did he find you attractive?

There was no point in denying you were attracted to him, if the way you were salivating over him was any indication. Turning from the mirror, you stepped into the shower groaning when the hot water hit your back. The smell of Frankie’s soap permeated the air, a sensuous blend of cinnamon and cloves, and if you closed your eyes, you could almost picture him standing in front of you, smiling that little smile he reserved for things that truly amused him.

Would he touch you? How would his hands feel skimming your shoulders in a barely-there touch, tracing his way across the peaks of your chest. How would his mouth feel against your breast, his plump lips closing over a sensitive nipple? Your hands cupped your chest, fingers gently tweaking your nipples, and you bit your lip to keep in any errant sounds.

Were you really doing this? About to masturbate to the idea of a man you met weeks ago, but who had been nothing but kind and supportive of you? You’d feel guilty if you weren’t imagining him on his knees in front of you, looking up at you with those dark eyes framed by those long lashes as he leaned forward to press a kiss to your mound.

Frankie gave off pussy eater vibes, and you could almost feel how he would lave attention to your clit, alternating flicking it with his tongue, and sucking it harshly until you were a wreck, just the thought of him eating you out was making you incredibly wet, and you played with your clit gently, leaning back against the tiles. Your hands, you knew, were a poor substitute for his thick fingers, and you whined when you pushed two inside yourself, thrusting gently, your other hand still focusing on your nipple.

Oh, you knew he would stretch you open, murmuring praises as he fucked you with his hand, telling you how good you were for him, how pretty you looked as you took all he had to give. He’d make you cum with his face buried in your pussy, and it was the thought of him, chin wet and grinning, that had you clenching around your fingers, a choked cry escaping you. Your legs shook, and you thought about sliding to the bottom of the shower and just living there, but Frankie was waiting for you in the other room, and guilt was starting to creep up your spine. You hurriedly washed any trace of your misdeed from your skin, so you could re-join him in the bedroom and work out your plans for the night.

It didn’t take long to finish your shower, soap rubbed and rinsed quickly from your body, finding yourself pulling your clothes onto still slightly damp skin in your building excitement. You slid open the door to release some of the steam that was causing your yellow silk camisole to start to stick to your skin. Louisiana was still hot, and you knew that walking the French Quarter was going to do nothing for the heat, but that didn’t mean you had to swelter in the hotel room.

Stepping back into the hotel room to grab your makeup bag, you glanced over at Frankie where he lounged on the bed, and your mouth went dry. He had traded his usual ball cap for slicked back still wet hair, the curls barely being contained by whatever slight product he had used. He was wearing slacks- not jeans, you noted, shifting slightly in your own pair- and a white button-down shirt that was undone down to his breastbone. The there was no sign of an undershirt, just the smattering of freckles that you wanted to trace across his neck and chest with your fingers.

And your tongue.

He hadn’t opened his eyes yet, but you knew he was awake, based off the way he was breathing. Not wanting to be caught staring, you grabbed the times that you needed before retreating into the now cooled off bathroom, reminding yourself again to calm the fuck down.

Frankie watched you go through his semi closed eyes, fire burning under his skin.

He knew that you had been watching him since he came out of the bathroom earlier, and if you hadn’t run for the bathroom when you did, he would have pulled you to him right then and there based on the way you were looking at him. And just now, he knew it wasn’t his imagination, the way your eyes lingered on him when you thought he couldn’t see.

Thoughts of how to tell you, to convince you that he was feeling the same way swirled in his head. Of abandoning your planned night out on the French Quarter, of pulling you onto his lap so he could tell you every filthy though he’s had about you these last two weeks. Letting you touch him more than just a passing graze, or a hand hold to not lose each other in a crowd.

But New Orleans was close to the top of your list, and he wasn’t going to have you miss anything you wanted to see because of him. ‘It’s possible,’ a small voice in the back of his mind thought, ‘that it’s not even you that she likes. Maybe it’s just the proximity and wanting human touch.’

It wouldn’t be the first time that has happened. How many nights had he buried himself in another person just to feel something other than the crushing loneliness of an empty room, empty house, empty heart? When the drugs didn’t touch the sadness, and he couldn’t lose himself in work or in being a father, what lengths had he gone to just to feel like there was someone out there who wanted him?

Relationships built on that didn’t last- but when had you ever said you were looking for a relationship. You had mentioned in passing that you didn’t have anyone like that (or anyone really) in your life, and he couldn’t imagine that it was because of you. You were gorgeous, curves and softness in all the right places, soft and warm. You were kind to everyone, a smile so quick and disarming, Frankie figured it was more deadly than a gun. You were smart, and funny, and so organized that he pegged you for the military type, which you had quickly dismissed with a laugh and a “I don’t like being told what to do.”

With how wonderful you were, people should have been chomping at the bit to be with you, but you had been adamant that aside from a long-term boyfriend in high school, and a few flings here and there, there wasn’t anyone. And he could only conclude it was because you weren’t interested in being in a relationship. Besides, it wasn’t like you had even suggested it, or anything close to it.

But the way you looked at him…he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

15 minutes later, you came back out of the bathroom, makeup done, and your hair twisted up and away from your face, a few curled pieces falling lose. You pulled a pair of boots on, and grabbed a jacket before turning back to him, arms slightly spread out. “Well,” you asked, twirling in place to show him the entire outfit, “How do I look?”

Frankie wished that he could find the words to accurately describe the way he was feeling in that moment. The front of your camisole was tucked into your holey jeans, showing off your small stomach, and he wouldn’t be surprised if there was drool at the corners of his mouth. All he could muster was a “You look amazin’,” as his eyes raked you up and down.

You beamed at him, and he could feel heat creeping up his neck as you shrugged your jacket on, tugging it into place. “I’m ready, Captain! Let’s go find some ghosts!”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re more likely to find a venereal disease in New Orleans, Hermosa,” he said, pulling his own blazer on. He didn’t know why he felt like dressing up tonight, sure it had nothing to do with the gorgeous girl at his elbow.

“Oh, come on, Francisco!” You playfully shoved him towards the door, exasperation lighting up your voice. “We’re in arguably the most haunted city in America. Every inch of this place is haunted, including our hotel supposedly.”

He locks the door behind him, leading you with a hand at the small of your back to the street, where patrons are starting to pour into the bars and taverns. It’s already dark, and he knows it’s only going to get more crowded and rowdier as the night goes on. “Sure, sure, if you spot one, be sure to let me know, that way I can get the hell out of there.”

A sly grin crosses your face as you look up at him. “Frankie,” you tease, grabbing his arm as the crowd thickens around you, “Are you afraid of ghosts?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m afraid so much, as having a healthy dose of survival instincts.”

You let out a peal of laughter, the glow from the string lights on the canopies making your eyes sparkle up at him, and he turns away before the urge to kiss you completely takes over his brain. You squeeze his bicep as the two of you fall into companionable silence, watching the boisterous crowds, and starting to feel the atmosphere that New Orleans exudes. The scent of magnolia washed over the two of you, and the big bands started up their jazz ensembles in quick succession, light and happy music surrounding every corner.

You lead him to the Old Absinthe House, pushing your way into the crowded small space, and shouted your orders to the barman, who didn’t look put off at all by the large crowd. Once he pressed your drinks into your hands, Frankie led you to an unoccupied corner, and you handed him the green drink.

“What is this?” he said, dipping his head next to your ear so you could hear him over the music and people. The smell of your perfume wafted over him, a mix of sugared berries and rose and…was that his body wash he smelled on your skin? You smelled like him, and he was going to lose his mind, the caveman part of his brain buzzing at the thought of you choosing to mix your scents.

You leaned up, your cheek pressed to his, your lips grazing his ear as you told him it was an Absinthe Frappe, and you spoke of its history, something about it being invented at this bar in 1874, how there were authors that swore by it, but all he could focus on was the way your hand rested on his chest for balance as you stood on tiptoe to lean into him so he could hear you.

You pulled away from him, and he felt dazed, like he had been hit over the head one too many times. He watched you smile before raising the glass in a mini cheer, and then you were downing it, quickly, the column of your throat bobbing as you chugged the drink. By the time he was able to shake the daze off, and realize what you had done, you were already gone, heading back to the bar for a refill, topping off the beginning of a long night.

It was close to 4am by the time Frankie was able to stumble back to the hotel with you.

You were three sheets to the wind, smelling of sweat and booze, the New Orleans cologne thick on the both of you as you rode on his back across the courtyard. You were giggling at the story you were telling him; some joke a girl in a bathroom told you earlier in the night, that you hadn’t stopped laughing at, and he was finding it harder and harder to be annoyed with you as you rested your chin on his shoulder, your arms loose around his neck.

Around the time he started to coral you away from the busier bars, you had given him a guilty look, and admitted that this wasn’t what you usually did. “I can count on one hand,” you had slurred, leaning on him heavily as you fingered the beads around your neck, “the number of times I’ve been actually drunk. Don’t like drinking by myself, and don’t have lotsa friends to get drunk wif me.”

The thought of you being alone more often than not was the deciding factor on letting you keep drinking, with spurts of him giving you water before letting you sip from your new bathroom friend’s drink as you danced together to some pop song Frankie hadn’t heard of. The two of you were menaces, begging him to dance with you after a quick, “this is my Frankie,” which had shot straight to his cock. He eventually indulged for a few moments, swaying to the music while you shook laughed and danced with him, until you turned your back to him, and your ass grinded directly on him. He knew you had to feel what you did to him in this crowded bar by the heady look in your eyes when you glanced at him over your shoulder, making no move to step away from him. He had excused himself, directing you back to your bathroom friend as he made a beeline for the men’s room to try to get a fucking grip. You were drunk and having fun. He was sober and responsible, and this was not happening tonight.

The pair of you had started back to the hotel after one last drink, followed by Bathroom Girl, or Amber, as the name scrawled on your arm read, stole the bouncer’s sharpie, and wrote her name and number on your arm while you leaned on him because you said the room was spinning. She had kissed your cheek, and then his, before disappearing back into the crowd of bodies. You had waved and then wrapped your arm around Frankie’s waist, smiling up at him as he held onto you, so you didn’t fall and crack your head on the pavement. You had made it a couple yards when you had stumbled and just about twisted your ankle, so Frankie stepped in front of you and knelt, his arms akimbo behind him.

“C’mon, I’ll give you a piggyback.”

You had balked at the suggestion, waving your hands frantically. “No, no, I can walk. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hermosa, I don’t think you can walk,” he laughed, jerking his chin. “Come on, it’s not that far, and you’re not gonna hurt me.” It took a few more gentle coaxes to get you draped across his back, but once you were, it was like all the tension left your body, and you hummed a song in his ear, and told him the story that had you in fits.

It took him a few tries with the door lock as he tried to keep you from falling off him, but when he got into the room, he backed up to the bed and leaned back to let you down. Except you didn’t release him, your legs tightening around his middle as you pulled him back with you, causing him to lose his footing and fall backwards onto the bed, with you beneath his back. He laughed, feeling you nuzzle your head between his shoulders like a cat. “Alright, Hermosa, I’m gonna end up crushing you. Let me up.”

You made a small noise, close to a whine in the back of your throat, but did has he said, and he cursed under his breath at the way his body was reacting. At the way it had been reacting all night. He heaved himself off the bed and crouched in front of you to pull your boots off, undoing the laces with care. You sat up and watched him, and when his eyes met yours, you grinned, shedding your jacket, your hands going for the bottom of your camisole, and wrenching it over your head.

Sitting in front of him in nothing but your lacy white bra and jeans was absolute torture, your chest heaving from how deeply you were breathing. He almost couldn’t look away, until you moved to the button of your jeans and his hand shot out to grab yours, halting your movement.

“Hey, hey, wait. Let me get your sleep shorts so you can change,” he said, trying to redirect your attention, to redirect his thoughts.

“Don’t wanna change,” you mumbled, your hand twisting to lace your fingers with his. “Want you.”

Frankie groaned, sitting back on his heels, and he squeezed your hand gently before extracting it from your grip, and pushing himself up to stand over you. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, and he quickly turned to grab your sleep clothes, determined to look anywhere but at you. When he turned back around, you had shimmied out of your jeans, smiling up at him with that sweet smile, and thrust out your clothes before turning around and digging for his. When he didn’t hear any movement from you, he steeled himself, and glanced over his shoulder, only to find you sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at your clothes with tears dripping off your chin.

Panicking, he turned back to you quickly, hands hovering over your shoulder, wanting to comfort you, but not wanting to send any mixed signals. “Hermosa, what’s wrong? Why are you crying? Do you need help getting dressed?”

Your bottom lip quivered, and you refused to look at him, instead pulling your shirt on over your head. He bowed his head, determined to catch your gaze, giving you a weak smile to try to coax you into talking to him.

“’m sorry,” you murmured, biting your bottom lip so hard, he thought you were going to draw blood. “I don’t know why I did that. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Guilt washed over him, and he found himself cupping your cheek, raising your head to look at him. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Hermosa.”

“Frankie, I just came on to you, and you ran away from me,” you replied, brows furrowing, and he could see the logical part of your brain trying to fight through the boozy fog.  “I was getting naked for you, and you practically dressed me yourself.”

After a beat, you whispered, “Do you not want me?”

Frankie sighed, his thumb brushing away an errant tear, and you leaned into his hand. His thumb kept stroking your skin, soothing you. “It’s not that I don’t want you,” he said after a moment. Your bottom lashes were heavy with unshed tears, a few more falling every time you blinked, and he was quick to wipe them away, as if they never existed in the first place. “You’re all I’ve been thinking about. You, and then things I want to do with you.”

“Then why-“

“Hermosa, you’re drunk. I’m not going to take advantage of you like that.”

“But you wouldn’t be!”

“Yes,” Frankie said, his thumb running across your bottom lip, and disappearing before you hand the chance to taste it. “I would be. There isn’t anything I want more right now than you beneath me, but if that’s something that you want, then you’ll still want it when you’re sober, and will remember it later.”

He watched as you soaked in his words and smiled softly at him. “Okay,” you whispered, nodding against his hand.

“Okay,” he agreed, letting his hand linger for just a moment more before standing back up and grabbing his pajamas. When he exited the bathroom, you were already under the covers, your eyelids heavy and fading fast. He laid on top of the covers, grabbing the blanket from the couch to cover up with. As he turned off the light, your voice, soft and warm drifted over to him as he felt himself falling asleep.

“Hey, Frankie?”

“Mmhmm?”

“Thank you.”

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