#meveispunk asks

[pedrostylez]

I wanna play FMK

Frankie/ Joel / Ezra

You're joking I can't kill any of them I am choosing to believe you mean KISS not kill.

Marry Frankie-You know that he is going to be so so sweet and even with the issues he has, he wants to work through them with you and imma bang him all the time lets be REAL. Take me up in a helicopter baby let's go

Fuck Eza- This guy....phew. He is going to have some of the nastiest things to say in bed and I am here for it. Bring me to your spaceship and bend me over the controls

KISS Joel-THAT'S RIGHT. KISS. Joel seems so shy that he would just want a quick peck and that's about it. It would take a longer time to get him to come around to more and I am not patient, very needy. Lmao.

If you meant kill my answers do actually change and I refuse to clarify further

<3 love ya

[something-tofightfor]

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #12: Frankie Morales - Kiss in the Dark / Break Up Kiss

....I have nothing to say about this one, except that it's not related to any Frankies I've written before, can be read as a standalone, and I hate myself for it.

Combining these two seemed like the right call. @lilmizmoz @meveispunk ... I'm sorry.

(but thank you for the requests!)

Word Count: 2198

Rating: No real rating but it's angsty as hell.

“Hey. You’ve gotta wake up.” His voice cut through the darkness, low and close to your ear. “I know it’s late, but…” He said your name, and your eyes flew open. He doesn’t sound half asleep, and that means … 

“Frankie?” You couldn’t help it - you let the fear creep into your voice, terror turning your blood to ice even though he hadn’t said anything else. “Is everything -”

“It’s time.” The mattress shifted and then one of his arms wound around you, a large palm sliding over the bare skin of your belly. “I didn’t want to wake you up, but -” But you had to. 

You didn’t speak, instead scooting backwards and closer to him, the expanse of the man’s chest warm and solid against your back. No. No, it can’t … this can’t be… he was careful. They were careful. His lips landed on the top of your shoulder and lingered, the scrape of his beard rough but welcome, soothing in a much-needed way.. 

What you and Frankie had between you was the best relationship that you’d ever been in. 

He was attentive and caring, smart - and one of the funniest men you’d ever known, the scrunch of his nose and the lines at the corners of his eyes when he laughed the first parts of him that you’d fallen in love with. Everything else fell into place after that.

He wasn’t perfect. He had a troubled past and struggled in the present, too, the PTSD from his time in the service and everything that came after rearing up more than occasionally. But you didn’t let it change the way you felt about him. You’d told him from the beginning that you were there and willing to support him in every way possible for as long as he wanted you to - and it worked, because he believed you. 

For three years, it worked. 

You and Frankie got to know each other, spilled secrets and stories, ingrained yourselves into each other’s lives in all of the ways that counted. You fell in love with him and he with you, and that had meant accepting everything that came with Francisco Morales. Like this. Like this, and like - 

“We have to -”

“Five minutes, Frankie.” Closing your eyes to stop the tears from dripping down your cheeks, you pressed your lips together and covered his hand with one of your own, fingers dropping into the spaces between them and then squeezing. “Please? Just five more.” 

It wasn’t enough - it could never be, especially with what you knew was coming, but it was all you could ask for. He would have let you sleep for as long as possible, which meant that you had no say in what was going to happen - or how quickly it would happen. But he can give me five minutes. 

“Do you remember the night we met?” He nuzzled into your neck from behind, his arm tightening against your side. “I thought you were flirting with Ironhead, and so I stepped back, and -”

“And I called you out.” There was a tremble in your voice but you pushed past it, inhaling sharply. “I said that you could walk away if you wanted to, but the only one at that party I wanted to get to know was you.” 

“I didn’t believe you at first.” He kissed your shoulder again and then let his lips trail up your neck and to your jaw, teeth scraping the underside of it. “And then you planted one on me right in front of everyone, and -”

“And I haven’t been able to get rid of you since.” The smile on your face was genuine, and so was the quiet chuckle he let out, but your expression quickly turned sad. “And I’ve never wanted to.” 

“I know.” He nodded, the stubble on his cheek rasping against your smooth skin. “I never wanted you to, either.” A tear leaked from beneath your still-closed eyelid along with a quiet sob erupting from your lips, and that was all it took - he shuddered against your back, urging you to roll over and face him. 

You did, even though you knew it would make things worse, and when you opened your eyes, you saw that his were shining, too - the dim light streaming in through the open window unable to hide the sorrow in his expression. “Frankie, are you sure this is -”

“How… how about the night I told you about Colombia?” He swallowed hard, his lower lip trembling. “About Lorea and  what we did? What we stole? The men we killed?” You nodded once, keeping quiet because you didn’t trust yourself to speak. “Do you remember me telling you that I - that we had to have a plan in case that came back to bite us in the ass?” 

“Yes.” The pillowcase rustled as you nodded, but you didn’t look away from Frankie, trying to memorize the way his face looked inches from yours on the pillow - light and shadows playing off of his handsome features. “I do.” He reached up, thumbing across your cheek and wiping away your tears, his touch gentle despite the things you knew those hands to be capable of. 

“This is the plan. This is the only way. The only way I can make sure you’re safe.” It was - and you knew it - but you didn’t have to like it. “Pope’s on his way here. Yovanna will be over twenty minutes after he gets here to get you. And then … then the two of you are in the wind.” 

You cried harder at that, and Frankie pulled you to his chest, the man’s hold on you crushing - but you clung to him nonetheless, knowing it was the last time. For now. The last time for now, and … “Kiss me goodbye, Frankie. Please.” 

It was a whispered plea, barely loud enough to be heard - but he knew what you were asking and didn’t have to repeat yourself. 

His mouth covered yours, and there was none of the playfulness that you’d come to expect from him. Instead, it was a hard kiss, his hand sliding to the back of your head and the tips of his fingers curling into your hair, the pain focusing you more than any words could have. But then it softened, the man’s lips parting as he trailed the tip of his tongue along your lower one, coaxing them open so that he could slip it between them. 

And it went on - and on and on and on, the man pausing long enough for both of you to take short breaths before continuing, each of you pouring everything into the kiss that you wouldn’t have time or opportunity to say once it was over. 

He pulled away first, blinking down at you and then nodding once, the man’s grip on you releasing so that he could run his knuckles over your cheek slowly. This is it. This is - “Make it good, hmm? The neighbors have to hear us.” 

You didn’t have a chance to agree. 

Frankie ripped himself away from you and back toward the doorway, pausing only long enough to take a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling as he steeled himself for what was coming. And then, before the tingling from his kiss had faded from your lips, he slammed the door all the way open, wood banging into plaster - and flipped the light on. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He kept his distance as he screamed at you, crossing his arms over his chest as tears dripped down his cheeks. “How long has it been going on?” 

“Frankie, I -” Oh, it hurts to see him like this.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me!” He stepped closer, passing in front of the open window, and for the first time, you let yourself wonder just how close the people watching him had gotten. Close enough that they’re listening? That they can see what’s happening? “Who is he?” He snarled the words out, and out of the corner of one eye, you saw the light in the neighbors’s bedroom flip on. Ok, we’ve got their attention. “Do I know him? Is it one of my friends? Is it Santi? Because he’s on his way here right fucking now, and -”

“You don’t know him.” Standing, you pulled the tank top you were wearing back into place, taking a few steps toward the man. “You don’t know him, Frankie. He’s …” Fuck I can’t do this. I can’t, I - But a tiny nod from Frankie spurred you on, the man’s lip curling as he held up a hand between you, pointer finger extended in accusation as he spat his next words out.

“Stay the fuck away from me. Don’t even bother. I wasn’t good enough before, so why fight for it now?” He winced as he spoke and you tried not to react, instead figuring out what to say next. What’s the furthest thing from the truth?

“I was bored, Frankie. You’re always working. Always with the guys. You leave me alone, and I just … I needed someone else. I needed someone to pay attention to me, and give me what I…” 

“Get out.” He jabbed a finger at you, whipping his head back and forth. “Get the fuck out of my house!” You jumped at the rage in his tone, but Frankie continued, closing the distance between you, his features twisted in anger. It’s not real. It’s not real, it - “I’m leaving with Pope for the night. Pack the shit you need and then go. I want you gone by the time I get back tomorrow.” 

You were crying in earnest then, fat tears streaking down your cheeks and your chest rising and falling rapidly as you fought to catch your breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Frankie. I didn’t … I lo-” 

“Don’t you dare.” Shaking his head back and forth, Frankie took another step closer, tilting his head to the side. “Don’t you dare make this worse.” He was barely hanging on, the look in his eyes wild, and all you could do was nod once, lips quivering as you attempted not to lose it in front of him. 

Without saying anything else, he turned and walked from the room, leaving you standing at the foot of the bed, your entire body trembling. Go after him. You would. You have to make it - “Frankie, wait!” 

Darting after him, you fumbled blindly for the lightswitch in the hallway but before you could turn it on, strong arms wound around you and pulled you tight against a sturdy chest, lips once more pressed to the skin of your temple. “That was perfect. That was fucking perfect. I love you. I love you so goddamn much.” He mumbled the words, though he made sure you could hear them. “Your bag is already packed and in the closet. Add things if you want to, but everything you need is already in there.” 

He pushed you away then, nodding twice and giving you a small smile. “I love you, Francisco.” Brushing the curls away from his brow, you nodded, too. “So much I can’t even start to -” 

“I know.” He paused, leaning in. “I’ll find you. When this is over, I will find you, mi estrella brillante.” 

He turned away then, stomping down the stairs - and after you gave yourself a few seconds to compose yourself, you stepped back into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. The light was still on next door, and you thought you saw the curtains move - but that was good. Keep it going. This has to happen. It’s the only way and we’re already in the middle of it. 

Wiping your tears away, you reached for the phone on the nightstand, unlocking it without looking at the lock screen - a picture of you and Frankie at the beach - and dialed Yovanna’s number. 

She picked up on the second ring, her greeting sympathetic - but there was no time for pleasantries. Not now. Not yet. “Hey… Yova?” You paused, sniffling. “I fucked up. I need you to come get me.” 

“I’m already on my way.” Her tone was gentle, and you heard the regret in her words. “Tonight is the hard part. But you’ll get through it, I promise.” Will I? Thanking her and hanging up, you turned your head to stare at the wall - the slamming of a car door in your driveway and then the familiar sound of Santiago’s voice downstairs alongside Frankie’s elevated one finally shocking you into action. 

Ok, you thought as you stood up and moved to the closet, clicking the light on and glancing down at the overstuffed duffle bag - one of Frankie’s - and nodding. Ok. I can do this. You grabbed a second bag and began to pull clothing off of hangers, mixing in a few pieces of Frankie’s wardrobe with your own. 

You had no idea how long your separation would be, but every second that passed was one less that you’d have to spend apart from the man you loved - and that was all that mattered. 

—

Mi estrella brillante = my bright star

[belovedspector]

Back to School

Pairing: Eventual single dad!Frankie Morales x f!teacher!reader

Warnings: None, just fluff!

Word Count: 0.7k

A/N: This is the first thing I've written in forever and my first time writing for Frankie. Dedicated to @meveispunk​ who asked for a single dad!Frankie x teacher!reader fic a while back (hope this is okay with you!). Feedback is greatly appreciated. Enjoy! :)

The Florida sun beats down on you. The worst of the summer has passed, but, in mid-August, it’s still plenty hot out. A cool breeze briefly passes by, a short reprieve from the near-oppressive heat.

It's the first day of school, and you're probably more nervous than the kids. It's all a blur as you greet your students by the playground, ushering them inside to their new, first grade classroom.

The day goes by in a whirlwind. Before you know it, the bell is ringing, and you're back outside to dismiss the kids. One by one, they run to their parents, excitedly chattering about their day, until only one is left. "Isabel," her name tag reads.

You look down at Isabel, who's watching the parking lot expectantly. "Who's picking you up, kiddo?" you ask her.

Her face breaks out into a wide grin, proudly showing off her missing front tooth. "My dad."

You can't help but smile back. "Yeah? Well, I'm sure he'll be here any minute."

"He will be," she agrees, sure as anything.

So you wait, and wait, and wait, listening idly as Isabel recounts her favorite parts of the day.

As you stand there out on the blacktop, you start to get a little angry on Isabel's behalf. How can her dad be late picking her up on the first day of school?

"Alright, Isabel, here's what we're gonna do," you say eventually. "Let's go inside to the office and see if we can call your dad, okay?"

She nods and takes the hand you offer her, allowing you to lead her back inside the school and down the halls to the main office.

Isabel plops down on the bench while you go to chat with the secretary, who looks up Isabel's information and tries her dad's cell phone. No answer. It figures.

You and the secretary are discussing what to do when suddenly, there's the ding! of someone ringing the bell, asking to be let into the school. Through the grainy security camera footage, you can make out a tall man wearing a cap.

"That's him!" Isabel cheers as the secretary buzzes him in.

You're mentally preparing yourself for how you're going to address him, how you're going to give him a piece of your mind for making you and Isabel wait and how he needs to respect your time.

And then he walks into the office.

All of the anger leaves you.

The first thing you notice is this: he's handsome. Underneath that battered cap and smudge of something (oil, maybe?) on his cheek, he's absolutely gorgeous.

His face lights up when he spots Isabel, and the smile that breaks out across his face is just as beautiful as the rest of him. He crouches down to her level and places his hands on her shoulders.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, mija." And he really does sound it.

"That's okay, Papá," she says, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hug.

After a moment, he stands to his full height and turns to face you. "I'm so sorry, Ms.—"

You give him your name, and his face lights up in recognition.

"Oh, of course." He shakes his head a little. "I really am sorry. We had a mix-up at work. I got here as soon as I could."

And how are you supposed to say anything bad, when he's looking at you with those sweet, brown eyes of his? He looks like a puppy-dog. It's really not fair.

"It's okay, Mr. Morales," you find yourself saying. "Isabel was very well behaved. But in the future, if you could call the school or make other arrangements for pick-up..."

"Of course, of course," he agrees. He lowers his voice a little before continuing, "It's just me and her. I do my best, but it's tough, sometimes, to juggle it all."

Oh, fuck. Of course he's a single dad. You file that away for later.

"I hear you," you say, hoping that the internal turmoil of your brain isn't showing through your smile.

"Well, it was very nice to meet you," he says, tacking on your name at the end. You like the way he says it.

"It was nice to meet you too, Mr. Morales."

"Please, call me Frankie."

"Okay, Frankie," you correct, positively giddy inside. "You and Isabel have a good afternoon, now."

"You as well." With one last smile from Mr. Morales—Frankie—and a wave from Isabel, you watch as he grabs her hand and leads her out of the office, Isabel's unicorn backpack slung over one of his broad shoulders.

Well, shit. This is going to be quite a year.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I have a few more ideas for this AU (little snippets throughout the school year, plus Frankie and reader finally getting together over summer vacation), so please let me know if you're interested!

[peterhollandkait]

When Sunny Met Frankie - An Everything I Know Leads Me Back to You Drabble

Pairing: platonic!Frankie x Reader, platonic!Santiago x reader

WC: 502

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, be warned.

A/N: This is dedicated to the lovely anon who messaged me tonight about how much they love Frankie and Sunny ❤️

EIKLMBTY MASTERLIST

33 years ago

You and your mom were in the backyard, covered in dirt as you worked in the garden. The sunflowers were your favorite out of everything that littered your yard, and you took extra care of them. Any time a weed popped up, you were out in the yard pulling them before your parents could blink. 

Your overalls were dirty at the knees from kneeling in the dirt, little gardening gloves snug on your hands. Once the flower seeds were planted in a new planter your mom had purchased, you got up with your little watering can and headed toward the hose to fill it. Just as you were reaching the faucet, a soccer ball was kicked over the fence and right into your leg, causing you to wobble.

“Sorry!!!” Your kiddie corner neighbor, Frankie, came tumbling over your short fence to retrieve his ball. 

“Hi Frankie, be careful please!” Your mom called from behind you, watching him carefully as he climbed over the fence. He was 8, and the fence really wasn’t that high, but she worried nonetheless. 

He waved to her before picking up the ball at your feet. “Sorry about that...I hope it didn’t hit you. It’s all Santiago’s fault anyway. He kicked the ball too hard and-“

You giggled, interrupting him. “You didn’t hit me. I was getting water for my sunflowers!”

Frankie grinned and looked over your head at the sunflowers growing across the garden. “Those are really pretty. Do you know how to say sunflower in Spanish?”

You shook your head no. “Can you teach me?”

Frankie nodded. “Girasol means sunflower. Y eres mi girasol.” 

“Huh?”

“Oh, uh, I said ‘You are my sunflower…’” Frankie mumbled, looking down at his feet nervously. 

“Can you say it again,” you asked, tugging on his wrist. 

“Eres, which means you are. Mi, which means my. And girasol, sunflower. Eres mi girasol.” Frankie watched as you put the pieces together in your brain, your face lighting up when you finally understood it. 

You grinned then. “I love it! Thanks Frankie!” You wrapped your tiny arms around him in a hug before running back to your mom. “Mommy Frankie taught me Spanish!!”

When Frankie climbed back over the fence, Santiago was sitting on a rock near their makeshift goal drinking from a water bottle Frankie’s mom must have given him. “Where have you been?”

“Oh uh, Girasol, she distracted me, sorry. Ready for another round?” He dropped the ball onto the ground and gently kicked it back toward Santiago.

Santi looked at him confusingly. “Girasol?”

Frankie blushed, looking away from his friend. “My kid neighbor…It’s just a nickname I gave her.”

“Does she want to play too?” Santi got up and passed the ball back to his friend. 

Just as Frankie opened his mouth to answer, your little high-pitched voice came from over the fence. “Frankie? Can you teach me other flower names?!”

Both him and Santiago glanced at each other, smiles growing on their faces. “On my way, mi girasol.”

TAGLIST: @meveispunk @chaotic-mystery @i-own-loki @harperdoodle @wildemaven @tightjeansjavi @wonwoosthetic @im-the-daddy-here-5 @fckinel @aruthlessblackthorn @angelseye

[avastrasposts]

WIP game

Thanks for the tag @frenchiereading !

Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how ridiculous or non-descriptive. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it.

I don't really have WIP:s because I tend to only write one thing at a time. But I have a document called "Ideas" with, well...ideas... And none of them have titles because that's the last thing I think about.

So I've got a few one shot ideas for Frankie, a sequel to The Accident which has been requested by a few people, an idea for where Frankie's working for a private customer as a pilot. And a really bad date idea.

I have one idea for Javier Peña. I've got a paragraph long story outline for that one and it ends with "Eventual smut. Obviously". 😁

And then I have a Dieter Bravo idea that I think will be my next project after The Pilot and his Girl which I'm pretty keen to get started on. It's a short thing, about five, six chapters, and I've got the chapters outlined for it.

I realised I do have actual WIP:s too. A Billy Butcher one that is kinda half written where he helps a tourist who's lost in NYC.

My poor abandoned "Tack Room," fic over on AO3 where the smut is just about to happen but I couldn't figure out how to write smut in The Lord of the Rings universe so I kinda just left it hanging...

And then a The Last of Us one with Joel and an unknown woman he unwillingly helps out.

No pressure tags for: @violetmina @meveispunk @deadpoetress @serafinadraconis

[imaswellkid]

9 people you'd like to know better!

Thanks for the tag lovely @julesonrecord 🧡 This has been very fun! Better late than never, right...? I loved your 'current relationship status' answer, and the 'current obsession' one made me melt...

last song: Work Song, by Hozier (obsessed because it's my PTMY puppies 🧡🧡🧡)

favourite colour: orange lol. Bet no one saw that one coming! I also love mustard yellow and dark colours (green, blue, red).

currently watching: Dopesick and it's making me so fucking angry. It's not often I wish people harm, but I'll just say this: I hope the Sacklers get what they deserve.

last movie: Roter Himmel (Afire), by Christian Petzold, with the extremely talented Paula Beer. He's one of my favourite directors and this movie is about the creative process, and it's gorgeous.

currently reading: Women talking, by Miriam Toews, so I'm basically angry all the time lol.

sweet/spicy/savoury: savoury

relationship status: like, irl or in my head?

current obsession: Frankie's wardrobe (don't ask)

last thing i googled: the BnF catalogue. And their website's down, I need for work so I'M ANGRY AGAIN.

currently working on: I might be working on a FishBen one-shot for @nicolethered and @pedrit0-pascalit0 Or I might be working on another PTMY drabble (please don't hit me).

No pressure tags: @frannyzooey @astroboots @the-ginger-hedge-witch @dreamymyrrh @nicolethered @meveispunk @chronically-ghosted @pedrit0-pascalit0 @psychedelic-ink

[mishasminion360]

For the music ask : 9,18 and 28 😊

Hiya, @meveispunk! Thank you for the ask 😁

9: A song that makes you happy

I have a LOT of tunes that put a smile on my face. If I have to choose one for the moment I’ll go with “Semi-Charmed Life” by Third Eye Blind. That beat just always lifts my spirits and gets me dancing. I like to start my mornings with that absolute banger.

18: A song from the year that you were born

There’s a lot of songs I adore that I’ve come to learn were released the year I was born, but one groovy little ditty I can never skip on shuffle mode and always crank the radio to is “Would I Lie to You?” by Charles and Eddie.

28: A song by an artist with a voice that you love

Oooooh, the song that instantly comes to mind is “Gimme All Your Love” by Alabama Shakes. Lead singer Brittany Howard’s voice is dynamite! She is an absolute powerhouse and no one will ever be able to replicate her style and sound. Alabama Shakes has a number of great jams, but this song is one you feel with your entire body. It isn’t just a song, it’s an experience. Give it a listen and you’ll see why 🥰

[pedrostylez]

Something Else- pt. 2

pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

chapter summary: Waking up hungover is one thing, but trying to explain what didn’t happen to your friend is another. You handle it about as well as you can, shutting down and running away. Frankie is sweet about the whole thing, and you don't know how to handle that either.

rating: 18+ (no minors please)

word count: 5.7k

warnings etc: Frankie w/o a daughter, triple frontier movie plot has happened but is not mentioned as of yet, eventual explicit smut (not this chapter but it will build), fluff, pet names, friendships, jealousy, competition, drinking, some heavy petting....dry humping, makeout session, praise... 2nd person pov, no use of y/n

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday! I hope you're ready for part 2 of Something Else...some things heat up and there's a bit of a cliffhang at the end, so don't hate me. Let me know what you think!

Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11

It is unbearably bright past your eyelids, making you see fireworks of different colors once you are conscious enough to be aware of it. You’re surrounded by the smell of fresh sheets, some detergent you aren’t familiar with. A deodorant that smells of sandalwood and citrus, and the faint smell of…sausage? 

You blink your eyes open, looking at the unfamiliar ceiling for a moment before looking down at the comforter you are clutching. Dark green, with small cream-colored leaves scattered in no particular pattern. You turn your head towards the window where the blinds are open and notice a bookshelf in the corner, a chair with a pile of clothes on it unfolded, and not much else in the room. 

Turning your head in any direction is painful-it hurts behind your eyes with this hollow feeling, making you blink a few times to try and get rid of the dryness. There's some shuffling beyond the closed door, pots, and pans of some kind, mumbling that is indiscernible. You briefly remember last night, realizing that it must be Frankie behind the door and that this is his bedroom. 

He tucked you in. 

You take a deep breath before braving the floor, cold under your bare feet, and turn the knob as quietly as possible. It feels silly to stick your head out into the hallway to look and see where Frankie might be, but you do it anyway with the intention of beelining it for the bathroom. You have no idea what you look like, and the idea of saying “good morning” with makeup smeared all over your face, makes you want to crawl in a hole and die. 

You step into the hallway on the balls of your feet and into the bathroom, shutting that door behind you quickly and turning on the light. “Oh…wow.” You can’t help but say out loud, seeing the eye makeup you had put on is completely smoked out under your eyes, resembling that of a raccoon. 

Scanning Frankie’s sink top for something to wash your face with, you settle on the Dove foaming soap. You think back to the last guy’s house you stayed at that didn’t have any soap, and shiver slightly before running the water to get it warm. 

Frankie tilted his head at the sound of water running, looking towards the hallway briefly and noticing that the bedroom door was open. He smiled to himself, turning the sausage patty over in the pan before finishing scrambling the eggs. Based on how many drinks you had the night before, he hoped that you wouldn’t mind him cooking breakfast for the both of you. 

When you finally appeared, sheepishly standing on the tiled floor, he had to hold back the full smile that wanted to appear. Your face was flushed, pieces of hair around your face damp with water, and his shirt hanging loosely around your collarbone. “Mornin’. I made enough to share.” He said quietly, watching you scan the room and brighten at the Advil bottle with a glass of water that he had set out for you. 

“I’m not ruining your morning, am I?” You asked, helping yourself to a couple pills and tossing them back quickly. 

He shook his head. “Not at all. Figured some grease might help that headache you have.” He smiles at you, he can’t help it, and serves you a plate of scrambled eggs and sausage. “There’s orange juice in the fridge, if you want some of that.”

You nod, draining the rest of your water cup and sliding over to the fridge quickly. Frankie grabs two forks, handing you one once you’ve poured yourself a glass of orange juice and he waits for you to take the first bite. He’s nervous again, tapping his fingers against the counter and taking a sip of some juice. “Pope texted me this morning; said that Anna is with him so your key is across town still.”

You nod once, taking a bite of the eggs and contemplating. “Where does he live?” You ask, looking up at Frankie. “I’ll grab a taxi to his place and be out of your hair.”

Frankie furrows his brow at you, shaking his head. “There’s no need for that, I’ll drive you over.”

Your face starts to flush red, taking another quick bite. “I don’t want to impose–”

“You’re not.” Frankie corrects quickly, laughing quietly under his breath. “I can’t let you handle the wrath of Pope and Anna on your own.” You go to say more before he stops you again. “I’m supposed to pick up Pope anyways, so it's not an inconvenience, cariño.”

Frankie watches you nod again, smiling down at your plate before finishing off the sausage. His eyes flick down to your hand that rests easily on the counter, and he wants to grab it-to hold it in his to give you a reassuring squeeze. “You’re…” You trail off, looking back up at him. You bite your lip and Frankie is just about to lose his patience, wanting to reach up and pull your lip from your teeth and bite on it himself. “You’re one of the nicest people I’ve come across in a while, Frankie.”

Frankie can feel his heart deflate a little at that. Sure, he wanted to be nice and polite, but he wanted to kiss you. He covers it with a small smile. “I don’t know if that’s sad or depressing.” He laughs, watching you flutter your lashes down to your cheek before pushing away the plate. He can’t stop himself when he reaches forward and wraps his fingers around yours. He hears your gasp and doesn’t know if he should backtrack or not. “Has everyone else…not been nice?”

You’re frozen under his gaze, the only indication that you heard him is your eyes on his and that your fingers are squeezing his right back. You blink quickly, scrunching your forehead and releasing a quick breath. “No, I guess not.”

Frankie steps closer to you and pulls your hand up to his lips, planting a gentle kiss on your knuckles. He swears you shiver at the contact. “You deserve that. People being…nice to you.” He says quietly, squeezing your hand once more before dropping it and grabbing your plate to put in the sink as a distraction from the way you’re looking at him. 

The short version is that you want to jump Frankie’s bones, but don’t think you can. 

The long version is that once Frankie grabbed your plate after planting his lips to your hand and looking at you like you hung the moon, you stood there and stared at his back for a few seconds before turning around to find where you had folded your clothes. 

As nonchalantly as possible you had mumbled that you were going to change and beelined it for the bathroom another time, phone in hand as you started to take off the sweatpants he had let you borrow. You look at your string of texts from Anna while running the sink again, groaning internally.

11:43 pm: I can’t believe you went home with Frankie!

1:24 am: Santi says that Frankie will treat you real nice, I have to know all the details later!

2:11 am: Oh god I have your key-in case you’re freaking out just let me know I’ll come get you

10:37am: Babe for real, how big is he? Did I pick the wrong friend?

You cringed at the last message, suddenly not wanting to share a single detail of just how polite and helpful and nice Frankie had been. You hadn’t even slept with him, had no claim over him, but didn’t want to let Anna have a single instance of thinking otherwise. You didn’t want to talk to her about Frankie even if you guys had done something. Not that you were opposed at all–

“Hey, uh. Pope just called.” Frankie said just outside the door. You turn off the sink, eyes wide as you button your jeans and debate if you should keep his shirt on or change back into the one that you wore the night before. You wonder which would look worse for a walk of shame… “Said that he’s getting ready for our plans. Are you…I’m not trying to rush you–”

“No, that's fine!” You say quickly, swinging open the door and trying to smooth out your hair. “Is it um…is it okay if I? If I wear this?” You ask, pulling on his shirt still covering you. “The top I wore last night is really uncomfortable–”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Frankie sighs, a happy smile gracing his face. 

You shift between your feet, pushing your hair behind your ear. “I just need my shoes and we can leave.”

Frankie nods, motioning towards the door where you must have left them. “Let’s go deal with them making fun of us then.”

Frankie can see that you’re nervous. Your ability to shake your leg up and down in quick succession while in his truck while also having a totally normal conversation with him about your friend Anna makes him wonder how you’re able to think about multiple things at the same time. There’s no way that you’re not able to think about two things at once unless you’re nervous about talking to him in general. 

You’re only about halfway to Santiago’s place when Frankie’s hand comes down gently on your knee to stop you. “What are you thinking?” He questions, glancing at you before back at the road. 

You sigh heavily before bringing your hands together. “Nothing just–Anna is going to be…Well, she–” You cut yourself off and lean your forehead into the window. “Anna tried setting us up and it’s going to be difficult to get her off my back about whether or not we…you know.”

Frankie nods, furrowing his brow before coming to a stop at the red light. He turns his attention to you, seeing that you haven’t removed his hand. “Will she not accept no as the answer?” He digs, watching you turn to him with your own furrowed brow. He wants to reach forward and smooth the worry away, not understanding what you’re concerned about. 

“She will, she just…” You trail off, your leg beginning to shake again under his hand. He holds it tighter, trying to reassure you. “It doesn’t matter.” You concede, looking back forward when the light changes to green. 

Frankie doesn’t push, keeping his hand on your knee as he continues forward to Pope’s apartment. He’s acutely aware of your wringing hands and how you try to stop yourself multiple times, moving on to picking at the skin on your thumb. 

He sighs heavily as he pulls up to Pope’s building, cutting the engine and giving you a final squeeze. “We don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” Frankie suggests, watching your eyes flick between his. “I don’t know what Anna’s deal is but if you don’t want to tell her then you shouldn’t have to.”

You nod slowly, sighing out of your nose and laying your hand on top of his. His heart rate picks up at the feeling of your skin. “You’re right.”

He can see you relax, and he immediately vows to not tell Pope a single thing. 

Frankie trails behind you closely, guiding you to Santiago’s door with a light hand on the small of your back. You feel jittery, hoping that Anna won’t say anything too obnoxious in front of Frankie, asking if you guys “fucked until the sun came up” or some other line you’ve heard from her before. 

You hope she doesn’t ask if he’s single. 

Santi meets you at the door, swinging it wide and scanning his eyes over the shirt you’re wearing and then behind you to Frankie with a smirk of knowing. “Morning, love birds.” He mumbles, moving out of the way to let you in before smacking Frankie on the back. 

Anna is sitting on the couch, her eyes wide as she spots you, squealing out in delight before running for you. “Did you get laid?” You cringe as she wraps her arms around you, jumping up and down like you both were equally excited. 

When you don’t answer, hearing Santiago and Frankie talk quietly behind you, Anna pulls away and examines your face. She breaks out into another smile before giving you a shake. “Oh yeah, you did! We are so going to talk about this later.”

You turn back around, watching Santi bump Frankie again with a quiet “Nothing? You’re going to say nothing?” before meeting eyes with Frankie. He’s stoic, calm, and observing Anna with you and it makes you blush. “You guys really aren’t going to divulge anything?” Santi says louder, looking up to you and back to Frankie. 

“We gotta get going, man,” Frankie says, motioning to the door. “Engine is still running.”

You know it's a lie, but you’re relieved that Frankie is cutting it short. You can avoid Anna on your own, complain that you have a headache, and go back to your apartment, wallowing in your inability to keep a guy interested in you as Anna takes them all away. “I’ll wash your shirt and give it back to you.” You say quietly, pulling out your phone and barely holding it out in his direction. 

Frankie is quick to step forward, close to you as he types in his number and calls himself, hanging up after the first ring. “Call me whenever cariño.” He says quietly, placing the phone back in your hand and wrapping his fingers around your wrist. He pulls you forward subtly, leaning down to brush his lips against your cheek. When he pulls away and locks eyes with you, you are almost able to drown out the sound of Anna’s squeal, wincing when it comes to your ears. 

When Frankie and Santi leave, you are then bombarded with the questions you knew were coming. 

“How was it? Was he nice to you? He better have been.”

“How big is he? He looks like he is hiding more down there than most!”

“He seems so sweet, you want to trade him with Santi for a couple spins?”

“Anna, I don’t want to talk about this.” You finally say, breathing out heavily and shaking your head at her. She looks confused, pouring a glass of lemonade at the fridge when you have finally cut her off. “It shouldn’t matter what Frankie and I did, and I don’t want to talk about it with you.”

Anna pauses for a moment, setting the glass down. “Babe, what’s going on?” She questions. “Was he horrible?”

“No!” You exclaim, frustrated with yourself. You can’t tell her that she’s the issue. “I just…I want to keep it private. For now. Okay?” You gasp out, running your hands through your hair for a moment. “I got to go, alright? Thank you for holding my key. I’ll text you.”

“Babe, you would tell me if something was wrong, right? Has he done something? Or me?” Anna questions, crossing her arms defensively. 

You nod, sliding your shoes on and rushing for the door. “It’s not you, Ann, it’s me. I’m, I’m all flustered and I need to just…I need to take a second. Everything is fine.” You say quietly, opening the front door and not waiting for a response before heading down the sidewalk in your apartment's direction. You pull out your phone and go to the phone number that was added moments ago to your recent calls, texting Frankie. 

Thank you. 

Frankie looks at your text once he’s arrived at the hangar, smiling to himself before putting his phone back in his pocket. When he looks up to Santi, his eyes are on him already. “You’re really not going to tell me how she is?” He groans, bumping Frankie’s shoulder as he passes him. 

“Not your concern, Pope,” Frankie mumbles, strapping his harness on a bit tighter around his flight suit. 

“Leave Frankie alone, man.” Benny chips in, turning to Frankie with a kind smile. “She’s pretty cool, isn’t she?”

Frankie slides his aviators onto his nose and up his face, giving a quick nod. “She’s…different.” He says quietly while Benny pats his back. 

Frankie is able to ignore the rest of the group quickly as he gets into the helicopter, sitting in the pilot seat, and getting to work on the practice run. He’s able to completely clear his mind, not worry about how Pope was grilling him in the ride over here, or how Pope couldn’t stop talking about how amazing Anna was…

No, Frankie was able to clear his mind and reexamine your reaction when Anna came up to you. How you stood still, stiff as a board, and ignored her questions. How you winced when she said you would be talking about it later with her. How Anna’s eyes seemed to lock on Frankie’s chest and trail down…

Frankie wasn’t sure if he really saw that or if he imagined it. But, it was enough to make him crowd you when you said you would wash his shirt, that you would return it. How you relaxed against him when he brushed his lips against your cheek–how that soothed you instead of winding you up more. 

And for you to text him after you clearly had escaped Anna’s questions, had gone home even. How you thought about him enough to thank him, for just not saying anything. Up in the air, moving the helicopter around the course with his team, his friends behind him along for the ride, he could swear that he would be in love with you by the end of the day if he thought too much about you. 

After a couple days, you find yourself still in a slump of avoiding Anna. It wasn’t the first time that you had gone days without texting her-she was typically in her own world and wouldn’t bother you. But this time around, she was a bit more persistent, leaving voicemails. 

“Hey babe! Let me know when you get a chance and maybe we can have movie night? Santi said that Frankie wouldn’t tell him anything either-you guys have a pact or something? Kinda hot. Anyways, let me know if you want to go out again!”

“You doing okay? What happened the other day when I asked about Frankie? He wasn’t mean to you was he? I’ll go over there right now if that’s the case. Anyways…text me.”

“Hey, call me back when you get a second, honey. I want to make sure you’re good, and Santi has seen Frankie and he hasn’t mentioned you. Let me know.”

I’m working all this weekend-sorry. We can chat when I have a few days off.

It wasn’t a total lie. You had worked the next day, an evening shift at the cafe, going through the motions of the closing shift and bringing home a large iced coffee for you to drink the next day while you created a cocoon on your couch. The living room blinds were pulled, the room dark with the flashing on the TV the only thing lighting up the room. 

Frankie’s shirt was folded on the chair by the door, waiting for you to get the courage to message him. You looked down at your phone, pulling up his contact and pressing “call” before thinking much more about it. 

It rang twice before he picked up. “Why, hello hermosa.” He said quietly, a small smile appearing on your lips at the sound of his voice. 

“H-hey. Hi.” You squeak out, clearing your throat for a moment before letting it be quiet. “I uh, I have your shirt washed.”

It was silent on the other end and you could feel the panic coursing through your veins for a moment before he spoke. “Can I come pick it up?” He questioned, sounds in the background of other people, men, making noises of encouragement before Frankie stepped far enough away to not hear them anymore. 

“Yeah, you can. I work tomorrow if you wanted to stop by–”

“Can I now?” Frankie asks quickly, cutting you off before saying. “I was hoping to see you, actually.”

You look down at what you’re wearing, cringing at the thought of any man, nice or not, seeing you with your hair barely brushed, pajamas from the day before still on… ”I’m not really presentable.” You say quietly, standing to go to the bathroom and find a hairbrush, maybe to brush your teeth. 

“I don’t want to push you.” Frankie states, and you swear you can hear him pacing. “I just wanted to talk about…well, Anna has asked me if you’re okay.” He sighs, and you can imagine he is rubbing his forehead. “I don’t know what to tell her, but she’s convinced I should know and–”

“You know where I live, Frankie.” You sigh, rolling your eyes at the thought of Anna asking him if you were okay. You had texted her. “Stop by when you’re done entertaining your friends?” You ask, stepping into your bedroom to find a clean pair of pants. 

“I’ll be there in ten, hermosa.” He says, ending the call and leaving you panicked, forcing your jeans on and a new shirt, rushing around and cleaning up the trash of candy and popcorn that you had been eating all weekend. 

The ten minutes Frankie said ended up being six, and when the knock came to your door you felt panicked and rushed and swung the door open so quickly that Frankie jumped backwards. “Sorry!” You said breathlessly, grabbing the arm of his jacket and pulling him towards you and into your apartment. “I thought I had ten minutes.” 

“Were you running?” He asks, smiling down at you as you shut the door and lean against it. His hands are on his hips, sticking the knee of his tan cargo pants out while the burnt orange windbreaker he’s wearing flares out where the zipper is undone. 

You sigh at him, rolling your eyes and standing straight. You reach down to the chair by the door and pick up his shirt. “Thank you for letting me borrow it.” You say quietly, holding it out to him. 

He gently takes it from your hands, rolling it up into a neat bundle that fits under his arm while he leans against your counter. “Are you…are you doing okay?” He asks, tilting his head and then looking up at your ceiling briefly before trying again. “I mean, are you and Anna not talking?”

You give him a brief shrug, stepping towards your living room where you still have a bunch of blankets covering the couch. You start collecting them, folding them one by one. “I just need space from her. She shouldn’t be trying to put you in the middle.” You state, throwing him a look of apology. 

“Pope grilled me about you spending the night at my house, so I assume it was just as bad for you?” He asks, looking around your living room and then at the TV. “Did I ruin movie night?”

“No you’re not disturbing movie night, I’ve been watching them all weekend.” You choose to ignore the first question, even though it isn’t really fair to Frankie. 

Frankie pauses for a moment before saying “Do you…want to watch another one?” He’s quiet as he asks, scratching the back of his neck. “Unless you’re all movie’d out.” 

You pause your folding to look at him and smile. “Don’t want to be grilled again, huh?” You tease, throwing the blanket down and sitting on your couch. 

He shrugs, sitting down a little ways from you, spreading an arm over the back of the couch in your direction. He places his shirt on the coffee table, locking eyes with you again. “It can even be something cheesy if I don’t have to go back to babysitting those guys.”

You laugh, reaching for the remote and turning the TV back on. “Do you like Heath Ledger?”

He nods, sliding his shoes off and setting them to the side of the coffee table. “He’s awesome in The Dark Knight.” 

You hum, opening up your purchased movie list on Prime, and click on something you had planned on watching later. “He’s a very versatile actor.” 

Frankie looks up at the TV and sees 10 Things I Hate About You queued up and starts chuckling. “He is.” He settles back, arm still reaching towards you as he gives you a last look. “You sure you don’t want me to go? So you can have your space?”

You look over at him, smiling once again before leaning towards him carefully. You don’t want to lean on his whole body, but closer to show you’re not being a total hermit. “I want you to stay if you want to.”

He smirks at you, eyes flicking down to your mouth briefly before his hand comes around the back of your neck gently and pulls you towards him. It's a surprise, at first, how warm his hand is and how nice it feels to have him pull you into a one-sided hug to practically lay on him as the movie begins in the background. Your face is smooshed into his upper chest, the crown of your head brushing his scruffy beard and your heart begins to race when your hand rests on his stomach. “Let’s relax, sweetheart.”

Frankie wants to kiss you. 

He had been thinking about you all weekend, throwing off his friends with their questions about you and what happened after you both escaped the bar. Pope gave his best rendition to the rest of the guys of you and Frankie entering his apartment, and how you exchanged numbers, and how you were wearing his shirt. 

And he had wanted to call you or text you again to make sure you were, in fact, okay. But he didn’t know what to do when Anna started asking him where you were when they all hung out again. How Will’s eyes peered at him in curiosity, raising his brows in a silent question.

Tonight was different-only Will and Benny were in front of him, asking him again how you were. “Why won’t you talk about her?” Will questioned. 

“It’s not your business.” Frankie groaned out again, crossing his arms when he felt his phone vibrate, picking it up as soon as he saw your name across his screen. 

He had teased you about running around your apartment, but Frankie literally had run to his car and up to your door. Will and Benny had laughed at him when he said he was ditching; It only took him four minutes to get to your door, but he took two to catch his breath. 

Now he had the courage to pull you closer to him after seeing you debate whether or not you wanted him to stay, looking so comfy and ready to take a nap, but in the back of his mind wondered what was going on with you and Anna. He had tried questioning you once, and you brushed it off, pretending he didn’t ask. 

Frankie hadn’t seen this movie but knew based on your comments it was not something he would pick out on his own. He liked the feel of you against him, the small laughs you would make, and the sighs at some of the dialogue. He kept quiet unless you asked him a question, only moving to take off his hat when he realized he still had it on. Your hand on his stomach made him hyper-aware of your movements, warm through his shirt. 

He was so hyper-aware of it that he felt it when you started to sniffle quietly before actually hearing it. There was a speech happening in the movie, and when he looked down at your eyes, they were glassy and wet with tears. “Are you alright?” He asked, startling you. 

“Oh, god yes. I can’t help it.” You laugh, pulling away from him. “It’s just so…she’s so angry at him and she is saying she can’t even help but still like him.” She sighs, looking over at him and shaking her head. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He says roughly, reaching forward and wiping under your eyes with his thumbs. He’s pulled your face so close to his that he can’t help himself when he looks at your lips again, flushing red when you look at his own. 

You lean forward and connect your lips with his, closing your eyes and pressing yourself closer to him. Frankie groans when your hand slides up to the back of his neck, fingers curling in the hair long enough to play with. He pulls away quickly, suddenly out of breath. You start to pull away, but he holds you firm, resting his forehead against yours. 

When he does pull away, you’re still flushed, eyes wide with unsureness. The movie continues to play in the background, but Frankie can’t think beyond you in front of him, can’t hear beyond your breaths. 

Your phone vibrates on the coffee table, pulling you out of your stare down with him, snapping your eyes over. Frankie peeks at the same time and sees Anna has texted you again. You groan, pulling fully away to grab the phone. “She doesn’t really understand boundaries.”

Frankie clears his throat, doing his best to not read along the text that has been sent to you. Another inquiry of whether or not you’re okay. “Is everything okay?”

You sigh quietly, biting at your cheek before flicking your eyes over to him. “Yeah just…she’s always really nosey.” You mumble, setting your phone back down on the coffee table. “She always gets what she wants.”

Frankie doesn’t know how to interpret that and doesn’t want to pry more than you’re willing to share. “What do you want?” He asks, watching you slowly turn your head to him in confusion. “Is it easier to let it be, or is it easier to have a conversation?”

You did not react how he thought you would when you lean into him and cuddle up to his shoulder. His heart jumps when you rest your hand on his upper leg. “Sometimes I think I should tell her, but it's an older issue…and I don’t really date anymore so it’s not like she can really interfere…”

Frankie absorbs the information, lifting his arm to pull you closer. “Do whatever you think is right.” He mumbles, bringing his lips down to the top of your head and kissing you gently. 

He doesn’t expect you to lean your head up, eyes half-lidded as you look at his mouth again. “Will you kiss me again?” You say quietly, gasping as he launches his mouth towards yours, arranging you to turn into his lap. 

He wants to make you feel good. There’s nothing else in his mind as he pulls you closer, your legs apart so he can slot his hips between your legs and press his chest to yours. He’s hungry for your attention, kissing into your mouth and then down your jaw to your ear, hands wrapped around your back. He can feel you heaving, shifting himself to look down at you again and giving you a smile. “You’re gorgeous, cariño.” He can feel you giggle as he attaches his lips to your neck, leaving a small trail until he is at your ear. “We can do whatever you want.”

He hears your breathy sigh and thinks it is out of relief. He doesn’t understand what it means but loves how it feels to make you feel relaxed with him. You pull him up to reattach your lips to his, biting at his lower lip and making him groan at the slight pain. He unintentionally thrusts his hips towards you but enjoys the reward of your moan. 

He gently continues to do this, pushing his hips against yours, and feels the heat through your jeans and his cargo pants, and wonders if he should slow down. “Want to make you feel good.” He sighs out, realizing his eyes are closed, and pops them open to look down at you.

You buck your hips up to meet his, hands gripping his shoulders to where it may hurt another man, but Frankie is too focused on you and your hips and the way your shirt is riding up– “Touch me, please.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice, hands running down your sides to push your shirt up. His mouth is on you instantly, biting lightly at your belly button and up your sternum to where your bra gets in the way. He flicks his eyes up to yours to ask quick permission before moving your shirt above your chest, groaning at the sight. “Fuck hermosa, you’re going to kill me.” He says seriously, laughing when you let out a breathy one in return. 

Frankie has decided at that moment to only touch you, to have you taken care of, and to leave it at that. To have you satisfied at the minimum; maybe you would come back for him or maybe not. He’s already concerned that you’ll ghost him and disappear if you do that to what he thought was your friend–

A loud knock makes you both jump, and a quick yelp comes from your mouth. You both pause, staring at each other. Frankie is hyper-aware of you bucking your hips again–

“Babe?” Anna says just beyond the door. “You in there?”

Your eyes go wide, pushing Frankie off of you. “Fuck.” You whisper, getting him to stand up and run towards the door to look through the peephole.

“Your shirt,” Frankie whispers back, watching you twist around and down at yourself to pull it down, red-faced and embarrassed. He’s trying to hold in his laughter as you try to flatten out your hair which was clearly spread across the couch moments ago. 

“Go down the hall.” You whisper, pointing towards your bedroom, pushing him with the other hand. “Just, don’t come out.”

Frankie bites the inside of his cheek, holding back his remark about his shoes and his hat being on clear display, not wanting to argue with you about getting to snoop in your room while you deal with Anna. 

[pedrostylez]

Something Else - pt. 9

pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

chapter summary: Frankie and team make it to South America, and you're worried at home

rating: 18+ (no minors please) Explicit

word count: 5.2k

warnings etc: Frankie w/o a daughter, triple frontier movie plot has happened, ptsd, smut, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, p in v (unprotected), mentions of shower sex, phone sex, mentions of spanking but it doesn’t happen, uhhhhhh I think that’s it

A/N: Hi! This is the last part of Something Else and this main story. I wanted to thank those who have read this and stuck along with me. Once again, a huge and massive shout out to Hemmy, @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for beta reading and is just being so fucking lovely. I love these characters so very much, and Frankie is my ride or die so...if you haven't already seen it, I have started another Frankie fic that also includes Javier Pena with less sweet themes. Read the warnings before proceeding on that fic, but if you want another...it's there! There is no taglist for that fic at this time.

Anyways, if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all. There is this lovely little arrow at the top left when you start reading that if you don’t like it anymore, you can click on it to stop reading. However, I am a slut for respectful comments, thoughts, and questions, so feel free to send those to me either privately or on ask. Please support all fanfic writers by liking, reblogging, and interacting. Thank you! 

Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11 @jake-g-lockley, @theanothersherlockian, @anoverwhelmingdin, @guelyury, @harriedandharassed, @wintersquirrel @scarletthefierce @paleidiot @brittmb115 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @bluetattoos @borhapparker @missladym1981 @guelyury @southernbe

It’s been three days of flying.

Frankie has endured without you, and plans to keep it up. He can do this; everything is in place. You’re safe, his friends are safe behind him, and the Andes in front of him makes him think of you. 

The way the sun rises over the peak makes him remember how your eyes look in the morning light. How you smile sleepily at him before snuggling closer, drifting back off into peaceful sleep that he wishes he could accompany you in. 

He doesn’t know that you’ve got dark circles around your eyes now that he’s been gone. 

He doesn’t know that you’ve been wringing his hat before you go to sleep, somehow finding unconsciousness with a death grip on the bill of his hat. 

He doesn’t know that you’ve been waking up in the night right when he is settling the crew on a flat plateau to rest, worried that he is still safe. 

They’re so close to the money that Santiago has pulled out his shovel to be ready at a moment's notice. He slid the confirmed coordinates over to Frankie after you left the hangar, nodding silently when Frankie reviewed them again and estimated a time. 

Just a few more days and they would be on their way home. 

After the fourth day, a knock came to your door with Anna holding bags of food behind it. “I thought you would need some company?” She shrugs, eyeing you cautiously. 

She’s hesitant, stepping quietly into your space and slipping off her shoes before pulling out all of the takeout she had purchased onto your counter. 

You hugged her, both of you sniffling and crying messes once you had settled on the couch. “I just want them to be safe.” You confess, deflating into the cushions and pushing your chin towards your chest.

Anna is silent, rubbing her hand up and down your arm. “Frankie will be okay, honey.”

You look at her, noticing her own dark circles. Her lashes are saturated in tears, welling over when she notices you looking. “Santiago will be okay too, Annie.” You say in a hushed tone. 

She gasps, tilting her chin down to try and hide. “He’s better off without me.” She whispers, shaking her head. “It’s been months. Almost a year since we split, I shouldn’t be crying about this.”

You grasp her hand tightly. “Don’t say that.” 

She hiccups. “No. I-I fucked up…he was so upset with me when we broke up. For how I treated you–”

“Me?” You ask, confused and taken aback. “You’ve been working on it-on yourself.” You say quietly. You hadn’t been told by anyone the specifics-only that Santiago had broken up with Anna, and that your friend had been struggling with it for a while. You wondered briefly if she was hiding the reason to spare your guilt. 

She nods, shrugging. “He didn’t like how I was treating you and our friendship and he was already wanting to take a break anyways.” She fumbles out, shaking her hands to try and swipe away the conversation. “I’m sorry. No-it's done. It’s fine, I’m not worried.”

You wait, let her recollect herself before wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “You’re allowed to be worried.”

You knew deep down, that Anna wasn’t over Santiago; that she wouldn’t be for a while. How she had turned into herself, changing her behaviors and becoming more considerate as the weeks went on as she did what she said she would; work on herself. 

Anna nods, wiping at her face before sighing. “They’ll come back.” She blinks back more tears before leaning forward. “God, let’s eat our emotions.”

Frankie lands the helicopter, silent among the rest of the darkness surrounding him before turning around in his seat to look at his crew. Bundled up, in sleeping bags reminding him of the one summer he was forced to go to camp. 

He stood, stretching his neck before flicking on the lights. He could feel the helicopter rock as the blades slowed. “We’re here, boys.”

Benny tilted his head backwards, blinking slowly. He must have been in a dead sleep. “You’re sure?”

Frankie glanced down to the back of his hand where he wrote the coordinates in permanent marker. “Yeah, at least to the coordinates.”

Benny yawns, elbowing Will roughly to get him out of slumber. “Rise and shine, we’ve made it.”

Santiago is already out of his sleeping bag, tossing it on one of the jump seats and zipping up his jacket. His eyes find Frankie’s, bright as if he hadn’t slept at all. “Can you aim the lights in to the ditch there? It’s going to be down there.”

Frankie nods, shrugging to himself. He finds himself back in his seat, flicking on the exterior lights that they hadn’t touched most of the way here. 

Pope has already jumped out, grunting as his knees crack with the jump before turning toward the crack in the snow, reaching for their collapsible ladder. “How much of your cut do you want to bet that it’s still here, Will?” He calls, smiling as Will groans. 

“None of it, Pope.” Will calls back, zipping up his jacket. “You sure it’s there?”

Pope calls back, something mumbled as Frankie steps out with his own shovel to help. He watches as Pope hikes up the hill to the pit, tossing the ladder over, securing it in place with weights and hooks before beginning the dissent down. They watch him, lights from the helicopters dimming the farther down he goes before they hear an excited call. 

Frankie shakes his head with a laugh. “Let’s get to climbing boys.” 

An hour. 

That’s all it took for them to become rich. 

If Frankie had known it would only be an hour, he might have planned less. 

The smile on Pope’s face as his shovel pierced through a layer of ice, the knowing thud of a solid suitcase filled, shining among the rising light of the new day. “What did I say?” He asked excitedly, pulling his shovel away to look down. “Boys!”

Frankie let out a relieved laugh, pulling at the duffles they see that are easily accessible, as Will and Benny started to hoot and holler for joy. 

Frankie felt tears prick the back of his eyes, the relief washing over him like a hot shower on a cold morning. He groans, reaching with a gloved hand and pulling free another duffle. He sits roughly, pulling back the zipper and struggles as it has rusted shut. 

When it tears open, familiar stacks of cash greet him, spilling out into the snow. He smiles, wiping at his eyes and adjusting his hat. “Holy fuck.”

He looks up to see everyone has stopped, watching him reveal what is inside the duffle. A sigh filters through Pope’s mouth, shaking his head and shrugging. “We did it.”

Frankie blinks, shaking himself to try and refocus. All he can think about is you, and whether or not you would be happy for them like he is. “Benny, you climb back up to the top. Will, you hang out in the middle. Let’s start tossing these up.”

“All of them?” Santiago asks, eyes on Frankie. 

Frankie takes a deep breath, nodding. “Yeah, Pope. All of them.”

2 Days Later

Your phone rings, blindly reaching for it in the night and pressing it to your ear. “Hello?” You groan, reaching with your other hand for the blanket, pulling it higher over your chin. 

You hear your name crackling through the speaker, quiet and delayed. “Are you there hermosa? Do you hear me?”

You sit up straight, eyes popping open into the pitch black of your room. You swallow roughly, fingers clenching at the duvet tighter. Fear chills you, suddenly petrified that something is wrong. “Are you alright?”

A chuckle. “Yes, yes baby. I’m calling because we are ahead of schedule. I’ll be at the hangar tomorrow evening.” He says loudly, noise in the background filtering through to your ear.

You gasp, breath stuttering through your lungs as you feel tears well up your eyes. “By a whole week?”

“Don’t say you wish I would take the whole two weeks.” He grumbles, shushing your worried rebuttal. “I love you.” You hear him laugh out, hollering behind him before it gets quiet. “We just finished eating, and I had to call you. Wanted to hear you.”

Tears are streaming down your face, the collar of your shirt wet with relief. “I’ve missed you so much.” You gasp, reaching for his hat beside you, stroking the velcro strap. 

“I’ve missed you too. Everything alright there?” He’s standing out on the balcony of the hotel they found and booked for the night. Cash was handed over to their contact with no questions, no names. They should be seeing the money roll in from an LLC starting on Monday. He feels the weight of the world sliding off his shoulders as he hears you breathe.

You sigh, leaning your head back against the headboard. “Yes, yes of course.” You feel your body relax against the pillows, exhausted again and on the verge of drowning in the tears that won’t stop. 

It feels both like hours and minutes speaking to him. He tells you how there were no issues; how Santiago was the first to jump out of the helicopter with his snow shovel ready. How Benny laughed with every duffle bag he caught, how Will looked to Frankie exclusively for direction. 

Frankie sighs happily, sitting on a patio chair and propping his legs up on the guardrail. “You’ll be there tomorrow, right?”

“You want me there?” You question, biting at your thumbnail.

“Of course I do.” He laughs, scratching at the back of his head and feeling his spare hat adjust on his head. He can’t help it when he asks, “Did you keep my cap safe?”

You look over to the hat, still rubbing your fingers over the fabric. It’s almost ragged, and you swear your thumb mark will be permanently imprinted on the back. You scoff, “I’m staring at it. Looks pretty safe to me.”

He smiles, and though you can’t see it, you know. “What are you wearing bebita?” He lowers his voice, biting the inside of his cheek as he waits for your reaction.

You gasp, wishing he was with you to hit his arm. “That is not your concern!”

Frankie decides to spur you on. “What I wouldn’t give to see you in just that hat.” He groans, laughing half heartedly when you gasp again and scold him. 

“I was worried you died Francisco, and you’re just a horn-dog.” You grumble, crossing your arm over your chest. 

Frankie lets you settle before turning to look over his shoulder. The boys have found their respective sleeping arrangements, leaving Frankie the couch with blankets piled high. He’s alone, as far as he’s concerned. 

He sighs, clicking his tongue as he decides to head into this full force. “Give me something to work with baby, I’ve missed you so much.” He says quietly, almost a growl that gives you shivers through the phone. 

You attempt to lie. “Just my underwear, Frankie.”

“Quit that.” He bites, shifting in his chair. “Tell me, really.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Sweatpants…your shirt you left here a couple weeks ago.”

He hums, happy with the answer. He closes his eyes and listens to your breathing for a moment, imagining how you’re shifting under the covers to see what he might say next. “I want to listen to you touching yourself.”

You gasp teasingly, trailing a hand down over his shirt you’re wearing. “Oh do you?”

“Yes.” He groans, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. 

“Are you alone?” You ask quietly, hesitant to go along with what he’s saying until you know. 

“You want me to be?” He teases, turning his head a final time before deciding it is fine. “I’m on a balcony, looking out on the water. They’re all asleep in bedrooms, away from me.”

You hum, letting your fingertips ghost under the hem of your sweatpants. “I miss you.” You sigh, closing your eyes trying to imagine what he looks like now. A whole week has passed, and he likely hasn’t done anything more than shower once they booked this hotel. His beard has grown out, scruffy from what you can tell when he scratches at his chin through the phone. 

He groans again, palming himself through his cargo pants. “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” You lit, smiling at the sound of his agreement. Needy, wanting. “What are you going to do when you see me?”

He laughs, shaking his head. He knows he’ll cry, probably–like a baby. “It’s not when I see you, cariño, it’s when I get you alone.”

Your breath catches, biting your lip. “What will you do when we are alone, then?”

He waits, squeezing himself as he hears the ruffling of your blankets, the shift and sigh as your hand cups your center over your underwear. “I’ve been thinking about getting you bent over my knee while I’ve been on this trip.” He confesses, swallowing as he hears you gasp again. “In nothing but maybe that one pair of underwear? With the flowers?” You hum in agreement. “Have you squirming over my knee, begging for it.”

“I’m not one to beg.” You giggle, pressing your finger against your clit and hissing at the dull throb you feel through the fabric. 

“I would disagree.” His fingers unbutton his pants, slowly sliding his hand over his briefs to cup himself. His hand is cool against the heat of his body, making him jump. 

“You think so?” You tease yourself, swirling a finger around your clit still over the fabric. “You think I’ll say ‘please Frankie, spank me’?”

Frankie shuts his eyes, listening to your breath hitch. “What are you doing?”

“Touching myself, like you asked.” You say matter-of-factly.

He shakes his head, squeezing himself again. “I’ll have you begging tomorrow.” He glances down to see the front of his briefs have a small wet spot where he’s started to make a mess. “You won’t be begging me to make your ass red though, querida.”

You send a questioning hum, pulling your hand away to slide them against your skin instead. 

“You’ll be begging me to fuck you.” Frankie growls, swiping his thumb over his weeping head as he’s watched you do before, closing his eyes when he hears your sigh of agreement. “I’ll have you over my knee so I can play with you, so I can tease you until you are begging for me to fuck you.”

You shift on the mattress, tapping a finger at your entrance before pushing as far as you can into yourself. “Frankie?” You say breathily, listening to his own breath come quickly.

The distinct sound of his hand working over himself comes to your ears. “Fuck, I love you.” Tumbles out of him. “What is it, baby?”

You feel yourself smile, imagining him. “Please, fuck me.” You beg quietly, holding back another giggle at the sound of his breath stuttering. 

“That’s right baby.” He adjusts in the chair, glancing over his shoulder once more before letting himself lean back and look at himself. His hand wrapped around the base, two quick strokes to calm himself down. “Told you you’d beg for me.”

You don’t have the ability to disagree, circling your clit again as a groan reaches your ears. “Please, Francisco.”

“Fuck.” He barks, moving his hand faster. “I promise. I will. T-tomorrow, I’m all yours. Anything you want.”

Blood rushes to his head and to his cock as he hears your breath catch, the sudden moan reaching his ears spurring on his own orgasm. He feels like he’s melting at the sounds you make, the whimpers that your phone is able to pick up.

Your head clears of the foggy lust, pulling your pants back up over your hips where it drooped, snuggling further into your bed. “I love you.” You squeak, blushing from what you just did together. 

Frankie laughs, not bothering to button his pants back up. He sighs, looking out to the water. “I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, hermosa.”

“Tomorrow.”

You’re anxious, sitting in his truck with the air blasting into your face to keep you cool. It has been hot today-overly so. You don’t know exactly what time Frankie meant by afternoon, so you’ve been here since 12:01 with the hopes that Frankie will return in one piece. 

You had stopped at Berto and Alma’s, picking up large amounts of empanadas that Alma had insisted on making for all of them. 

She gave you three large containers, noting which ones were spiced more heavily than the others for the sake of Ben and Will’s palate. 

When she handed you the third, arguing with you for a moment about whether or not it was too much, she finally admitted “The third is for you and Francisco only. Don’t tell Santi, he will be jealous that I have a favorite.”

You had laughed, nodding your head and promising to keep it a secret before making your way over to the hangar. 

Now sitting in Frankie’s truck, tapping your fingers against the steering wheel and feeling sweat drip down your back in the afternoon sun, you wonder if you’re too anxious. 

After a couple hours you shake your head at yourself, stepping into the hangar and waving at the workers that were prepping for their arrival and setting out the two containers of food. You ask quietly if there’s a time that they are to be expected, but skitter back out to Frankie’s truck when they give you a half hearted shrug. 

By the time the sun is settling, you’ve rolled down the windows and are hanging out of them, trying to catch the breeze that just won’t come. You know now that you most certainly came too soon, holding back frustrated tears as you step out of the truck and slam the door. 

Standing must be better than sitting at this point, right?

You hear the whirling sound of the helicopter blades suddenly, making you squint up at the sky to see if you are imagining it. You’ve convinced yourself that you are imagining it, until you see a speck in the sky that resembles Big Mama. 

It feels too long with how time passes with your head facing upward at the sky, the speck becoming larger and larger until you feel the wind push against your face. 

You don’t even realize you’re crying until you watch the helicopter land smoothly, and howl of excitement once the engine is shut off, the blades slowing. You watch Will step out, waving at you before beelining it for the hangar.

Benny is next to step out, throwing a duffle bag into the hangar’s open garage door, waiting for their arrival. He speaks to the owner, quietly asking them to take care of putting the helicopter away. 

When Santiago steps out his darkened eyes are not as prominent, his smile wide as he spots you. He gives a small nod, following Will’s tracks to the folding table where you had set out food. 

You hold your breath until you see Frankie, his eyes searching for you the minute he steps out. He smiles, wide and inviting as his arms follow suit. Suddenly you’re running at him, listening to his surprised laugh and grunt as he catches you. 

You’re sure tears are soaking his shirt, but he pulls you tighter against him. “Hi, cariño.”

“Hi,” Is your watery reply, shuffling back and pressing your hands into his arms. “You’re not hurt?”

He shakes his head, smiling at you. “No, baby. I’m alright.” He cups your chin, pulling your lips to his briefly. He smiles into your lips, the faint sound of excited calls from the hangar barely reaches your ears as he wraps an arm around waist and turns you both to walk. 

He pinches your side as he walks with you, burying his face into your neck and inhaling deeply. “I can’t wait to get you home.”

You smile, blushing wildly. “Berto and Alma–”

“Let’s just go home.” He says again, pupils blown wide. He feels desperate to have you alone, being teased by his friends that you would be waiting for him naked at home. Even when he had said that you would be waiting to see all of them, they had scoffed, knowing better. 

He saw you know and knew better too. 

He’s walking to the truck, opening the passenger door and letting you slide in before giving a short wave to the open door of the hangar, ignoring any questions the others may have. 

“Food’s over here, Fish!” Benny calls, mouth full. 

“Nah man, you know where he’s going.” Will mumbles out just loud enough for Frankie to hear before he’s hopping in the driver’s seat.

He doesn’t give them a second glance, starting the engine and pulling away and down the dirt road before his hand reaches to hold your knee. He comes in contact with a container, glancing at it before at you. “What’s that?”

“Berto and Alma made you a specific box of food.” You say quietly, watching the smile spread across his face. “Alma said you’re her favorite.”

He lets you pop open the top, the smell of spices reaches his nose so quickly that he can’t help but take an empanada in his hand and take a bite. Frankie groans at the taste, pulling onto the main road and heading for his apartment. “What did you do? While I was away?”

You laugh. “Moped around, mostly.” 

He flicks his gaze to yours at a red light, finishing the empanada and reaching for your knee. “What did you get for groceries? Did you use my card like I asked?”

You nod, flipping open the container and grabbing something to eat for yourself. “I did. Made fried rice a few times, lots of chicken caesar salads,” You trail off, taking a bite and humming to yourself. “I tried going to Berto and Alma’s a few times but they wouldn’t let me pay.”

Frankie smirks at that, squeezing your knee and pulling away from the intersection. He feels satisfaction settle in his stomach at the thought that you had been taken care of, even when you had tried to pay. “Good.” He nods, hearing you laugh. 

When he pulls up to his apartment, he’s quick to get you out of the passenger seat, waiting for you to unlock the front door impatiently. His hands have a mind of their own, sliding down your sides and squeezing at your ass as you try to shoo him away. “I’m trying to unlock the door, Morales–”

“I know. I can’t help it. Where did you get these jeans?” He questions, tapping you lightly and smiling when you scoff. 

“I’ve had them.”

“You wearing anything under there? Let me see–”

You bat his hand away, pointing at him to get him like scolding a child. “Let’s be inside for you to do that!”

“But I want to see now, hermosa. You’re so gorgeous when you walk in front of me, have I not said that before?”

“No.” You laugh to yourself, pushing open the door and tossing the keys on the shelf.

“Hmm.” Frankie’s eyes follow your figure, watching as you set the food on the coffee table. “I should have.”

He tumbles in after you, shutting the door with his foot and reaching for you. “God, how you look when you bend over like that?”

“I thought you wanted to bend me over?” You tease, fluttering your lashes at him.

His pupils go wide, shaking his head mostly to himself. “I can’t right now.” He confesses, unbuttoning his pants. “After last night I need to taste you.”

You go to stop him, but see how quickly he is kicking off his boots, how quickly his pants are disappearing. “Why don’t we shower–”

He groans, hands clasping at your waist and landing on the carpet with his knees. “Let me see.”

“Frankie–”

You gasp when his mouth attaches to your stomach, soft and gentle while his fingers work quickly at the button. The way he pulls at your jeans has you reaching to steady yourself on his shoulders, bunching up the fabric of his shirt. 

He sighs happily when he sees you did what you were told; those blue panties with the tiny flowers gracing his vision. He leans back to pull off his shirt, hat flying with it before pressing his mouth lower over your underwear. 

“So fucking pretty.” He whispers, hands traveling to your ass and squeezing at the flesh there. 

He hears you squeak in surprise, your nails digging into his shoulders and hair at the back of his head. He guides you backwards, shuffling forward until you’re able to lay on the couch fully, ass hanging over the edge. 

“Hold on.” He instructs with a smirk, moving your hands to the edge of the cushions before he leans forward and starts mouthing at your clit through the fabric of your underwear. 

The swirl of his tongue is intoxicating, your eyes rolling back in bliss and a moan bubbling out of you. You feel him chuckle, the vibrations causing you to buck your hips up toward his mouth. “Frankie–fuck–”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to wait.” Frankie confesses, bringing large doe eyes up to your face as he slides a finger over your center through your underwear. 

He slides your underwear down your legs, wrapping them tightly around your ankles and using them as leverage to lift and maneuver your legs however he wants. You let out a laugh of shock of how he moves your legs to the side, letting you legs press together but shining from your own slick, on display for him. 

“Please, baby.” You whine, trying to adjust yourself to be more supported, still hanging off the couch. 

Frankie’s face is red, mouth hanging open as he watches you squirm after barely touching you. He holds your ankles firm, his other hand coming down and gliding two fingers through your folds before letting one finger press into you. 

You sigh, throwing your head back again and whining for him. “All for me?” He asks, adding a second finger. 

You nod quickly, biting at your lip until you’re sure it’s bleeding. “Yes, all for you.”

Frankie hums in approval, removing his fingers and covering himself in your arousal before pressing himself slowly into you. “Gunna fill your sweet pussy up.” He growls, keeping himself restrained, sliding himself in until his abdomen is pressed against your thigh. 

He feels your leg shaking against him, flicking his eyes up to your wrecked face before he smiles. He pulls back just as slowly, watching you open your eyes to watch him before thrusting in heavily. 

Your moans spur him on, grunting in unison with you. His eyes are locked on yours, unable to look away as he feels you tighten around him. “Wanna come for me?” He asks, releasing your underwear wrapped ankles and changing positions so that he can lay his body against yours. 

His fingers come up to hold your jaw, pressing a kiss to your lips and encouraging you. “I’ve got you, baby.” 

You come under his touch, skin hot to the touch and slick with exertion. A moment more for you to come back down to earth, watching as he pulls out and finishes over your stomach. Ropes of his orgasm covering you, shirt pushed up and just barely missing the hem. 

He takes a deep breath, look at you for a moment before leaning into you and his own mess and pressing kisses to your face. “I love you.” He mumbles against your lips, smiling when you laugh. 

“I love you too.” You sigh, sitting up with his help and taking a deep breath. “Let’s shower?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at him. 

His own sparkle back at you, a knowing smirk rising on his face. “Yeah.”

Showering to Frankie meant pressing into you again, holding you up against the wall and covering your neck in marks. He was determined to ignore all outside distractions, stopping at the fridge to get you both a drink in between sessions that he swore would leave him exhausted. 

You both would doze in and out of sleep, awoken to each other's touch an hour or so later to do it all again. 

Now he lays next to you, his arm around your shoulder as you tuck yourself into his neck, looking around his room. Your clothes folded on the dresser next to a travel bag of jewelry, a pair of slippers tucked under the night stand.

You had jackets hanging up at his door when you first walked in, and dishes soaked in the sink. Your preferred drink sat happily in the fridge next to his own, your kitchen towels hanging from the oven’s handle. 

“When does your lease end?” Frankie asks quietly, staring at your pair of underwear that is peeking out of the top drawer of his dresser. He remembered teasingly asking you to store some of your clothes here so that you didn’t have to rush from his place whenever you spent the night. 

“A couple months.” You yawn. You swirl your fingers from his chest to his belly button and back up, blissfully unaware of his eyes flicking around to all your items. 

He hums, taking a deep breath as a second of anxiety shoots through him. “Have you renewed the lease yet?”

You shake your head. “No, but I will need to soon.” You pause, moving your head to look up at him. “Why?”

Only a second more, and Frankie’s eyes are on yours. “I don’t think you should.” He whispers, watching for a reaction. He swears you can hear his heartbeat beating out of his chest. 

You give him a shy smile, overheating and laughing. “So, the street it is then?”

He pinches you, letting you giggle before pushing his face into your hair as if he is hiding. He takes another deep breath, inhaling your shampoo. “Move in with me?”

He feels your pause in breathing, your attempt to not stiffen in his hold. “Really?” You ask, furrowing your brow as he pulls away to look at you. 

Frankie brings his thumbs up to your brow, smoothing away the tension. “Yeah.” He breathes. “If you want to. I just…I don’t want to be without you.”

You nod, swallowing roughly. “I-I want to.” Frankie feels his heart swell with excitement. “But we are splitting rent.”

Frankie frowns, shaking his head. “I’ll let you buy groceries once and a while.”

“Frankie–”

Frankie cuts you off, “Hermosa, I just came into 20 million dollars. I want you to live with me. You don’t have to pay for anything.”

You gasp, freezing. “20 million?” Your voice is small, eyes wide and unbelieving. 

He watches you try to process, holding you firm in his hands before petting your hair back. “Yeah.” He clears his throat, suddenly feeling overly exposed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked–”

You press your hand to his chest, stopping him in his tracks. “I’ll pay for groceries every week, Frankie.” 

He’s confused for a moment, watching a slow smile appear on your lips before a smile grows on his own. He pulls you close, peppering kissing over your face. “Whatever you want, baby.”

You laugh, settling back into his arms just as Frankie notices the sun peeking over buildings through his window. You begin to drift off into sleep, the sun painting the side of your face and arm as he had imagined while flying over the Andes. He smiles to himself, pulling you closer and shutting his eyes, relaxing when he remembers he doesn’t have to fly over those mountains ever again. 

[pedrostylez]

Something Else - pt. 8

pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

chapter summary: Frankie and Benny confront Santiago and Will, and the leadup to the mission

rating: 18+ (no minors please) Explicit

word count: 6.4k

warnings etc: Frankie w/o a daughter, triple frontier movie plot has happened, ptsd, mention of drugs, smut, p in v, honestly pretty tame, tears, drinking, bars/club

A/N: Aaaaannnnddd we’re back! After rude anons and a mini break while I tried to remind myself that this is just for fun, I’m back with part 8. A huge and massive shout out to Hemmy, @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for not just cheering me on, and beta reading, but also helping me dissect my own brain to make sure my worries about how I write these characters were put to rest. Imagine the conspiracy theory gif? That was her with spreadsheets. Thank you so much for helping me and being just what I needed. There is 1 more drabble and 1 more part and then that is the end of Something Else! How spooky and scary! There is no timeline for posting at the moment, but just a heads up!

Anyways, if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all. There is this lovely little arrow at the top left when you start reading that if you don’t like it anymore, you can click on it to stop reading. However, I am a slut for respectful comments, thoughts, and questions, so feel free to send those to me either privately or on ask. Please support all fanfic writers by liking, reblogging, and interacting. Thank you! 

Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11 @jake-g-lockley, @theanothersherlockian, @anoverwhelmingdin, @guelyury, @harriedandharassed, @wintersquirrel @scarletthefierce @paleidiot @brittmb115 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @bluetattoos

Frankie’s anxiety is at an all time high going back to the hangar to tell Santiago that he wasn’t ready. He couldn’t settle, even though he wasn’t the only one-that Benny didn’t want to go again. To be retraumatized again. 

His anxiety was put to rest when he stepped into the garage, boots echoing on the concrete to Santiago and Will sitting at the folding table in the corner. A sudden calm over his nerves when he saw Pope’s face. “Fish!” Will exclaimed shortly, nodding at him to come over. 

Frankie approached the table and sat down across from the two of them, sighing heavily before clearing his throat. Pope looked like he wasn’t doing well; like he had lost sleep with the bags under his eyes.  “I’m not going.”

It’s quiet for a moment before Santiago starts to apologize. “Frankie, I didn’t mean to put you–”

“Stop,” Frankie holds his hand up, taking a deep breath. “I’m not ready to go now, but…in a year? I could…I could be ready by then.”

“Should we really be planning that far in advance?” Will asks, tilting his head toward Pope. Still relying on who he thought should be the leader. 

The door to the garage already opened again, Benny standing off to the side as he listened in. He shook his head in mild disgust, addressing Will. “If we plan now we can avoid what happened last time.” Benny calls, hanging up his hat on the coat rack. “Because clearly it wasn’t planned well last time.”

Will shakes his head with a scoff. “Hey woah–”

“No, let me talk.” Benny stands at the table, tapping his fingers incessantly against the chair. “Frankie and I have changed.” His hand rests gently on Frankie’s shoulder, squeezing to try and tell him that he’s got this.  “We aren’t the same loyal dogs you brought last time Pope, and we can’t just go into this without some planning.”

Santiago nods, swallowing roughly. “I had a plan last time, it just…” He blinks, unable to finish his sentence. 

“It didn’t go well.” Benny nods, filling in the blanks. “Listen, I get it. You want all of us to be taken care of.”

“I want to make up for last time.” Santiago says quietly, flicking his eyes between Frankie and Benny. 

“Is the best way to do that by going back?” Frankie asks just as quietly, eyeing Pope. “How much of this is actually thought through?”

It’s silent for longer than before, as Pope swallows hesitantly. “I just…thought-”

“You can’t be in charge of this.” Benny states. “You’re too emotional, wanting to fix whatever happened. But we need to be logical, take the bull by the horns and think rationally. And you–” He points to Will. “You were just going to go along with this?”

Will shakes his head, pointing at Santiago. “What? No I thought he had a plan–”

“But you didn’t confirm it? Before calling Frankie incessantly and sending him almost over the edge and back to his dealer?” Benny exclaims, causing a silence to fall among the group. 

“You’re using again?” Santi asks breathlessly. 

“No! Stop.” Frankie turns to Benny. “I am fine. But we need to do what Benny says and handle this rationally. If we want to do this, then we need to be methodical.” Frankie stands his ground, looking between Will and Pope as they look at each other. 

Will finally nods, leaning back in his chair. “You’re right.” He crosses his arms and debates for a moment. “One year from today.”

Frankie and Benny nod, in unison. “One year.”

1 Month Later

“Are you coming with us tonight?” You asked hushed into the phone. Anna is still in the bathroom, and you’ve snuck around the corner to her bedroom where you could speak to Frankie quietly. “I miss you.”

Frankie’s chuckle is dark through the phone, delicious against your ear. “I miss you too, hermosa.” A heavy sigh and some shuffling. “You said it was girls night weeks ago, I can’t crash it now.”

“You know Santi might!” You exclaim quietly, giggling when you hear Frankie’s huff. 

“No, he’s going to be here in maybe five minutes. We are going to review logistics.” You swear you can hear Frankie smile after the pause he takes to inhale. “What are you wearing?”

“Don’t start.” You say seriously, looking down at your clothes. You resist the urge to cringe at yourself, trying to step into this new found confidence that you’re trying to convince yourself you have. Anna had wanted you to have fun tonight, dress however you felt and she would be the one to watch over you. A change in the routine-something that you’ve noticed she’s been working on. Her ability to apologize and to turn things around had shocked you at first, but it was different-it was better. “You might die if you see it. Would be better if you didn’t come out, actually…”

“Well now I’ve got to know, baby.” Frankie muses, humming when you deny again. “Should I convince Pope that we need to go out?”

As you’re about to answer, Anna steps into her bedroom with a pointed look. “We agreed on girls only! No boys!”

You laugh at the same time that Frankie does, telling him you’ll see him later before hanging up and putting your phone into your purse. “Alright! It’s gone.”

“Good.” Anna laughs, brushing out her hair one more time in the mirror. Her jeans are riding low on her hips, crop top showing off her belly button as she turns to you. “How’s my outfit?” She asks quietly, almost timidly.

“Very belly forward.” You joke, looking down at what you borrowed from Anna’s closet again. You hear her giggle and sigh as you mess with the dress painted on your body, blue and sparkling, strapless with fake sleeves, a cut out just below your chest. This is out of your comfort zone.

You feel slightly self conscious, adjusting until Anna’s hands stop yours. “You look amazing honey. If Frankie doesn’t have a heart attack when you get home later, then he doesn’t deserve you.” 

You smile, looking into her eyes for a moment before sighing. “Alright, I’ll trust you about this dress. It feels like it’s going to fall down.”

Anna giggles, picking up her phone when it vibrates and sighing. When you give her a questioning look, she shrugs. “Santi has been…strange, recently.”

You frown, following her to the door as she slips on her shoes. “Do you want to talk about it before we leave?”

She hesitates, debating in her head. “He’s just, really insecure right now after Frankie and Benny told him they weren’t ready to help him in South America.” She gives a rueful smile. “I don’t mean to bring up Frankie-”

“Don’t apologize.” You shake your head, yanking on her arm to bring her to the couch. Anna had updated you on what she had been told from Santiago a few weeks ago, and was flustered when you had told her all the information that Frankie had spilled so early on. While she knew a lot of it, there was some that she hadn’t-such as how their friend died. Anna was on this streak to be blunt with everyone around her, so she had confronted Santiago. “What’s he saying?”

She sighs, shaking her head. “I think I’m being impatient with him. He’s not…saying anything.” She furrows her brow in concentration. “I asked him how much money was on the line a couple weeks ago. He kinda just froze. Said he would take care of me. But I told him that wasn’t what I was asking and–” She hiccups, holding back tears. “Now it’s like he doesn’t hear anything I say. Just stares off into the distance, saying he shouldn’t be the leader of the group. I asked for details about Redfly and he just tells me that I wouldn’t understand the hell he has been through. What is that supposed to mean?”

You take a deep breath with her, nodding. “Give it time, Annie. From what Frankie said it seems like Santiago always has it together, and now he’s trying to…get his footing again.”

Anna nods, agreeing with you. “Yeah, I’m just being too impatient.”

You go to tell her that’s not the case, that she’s really just trying to navigate a situation with a man that doesn’t know what he’s doing either, but she stands suddenly and plasters on a smile. “Come on, let's have fun. Sprite for me, rum and coke for you.”

You’re shit faced. 

It’s probably the first time in a while that you’ve actually had more than a couple drinks, which frankly has always been plenty, but tonight you’ve indulged much more. It reminds you of the first night you met Frankie, when you indulged and had to spend the night at his place, and you can’t help the smile that appears on your face, dancing with Anna in the center of the room. 

You never dance.

“You look fucking hot!” Anna yells in your ear, giving you a thumbs up before twirling and giving an excited squeal. “Are you having fun?”

“Yes!” You yell back, laughing at how ridiculous you’re both being, yelling to each other in the middle of a dance floor that very few people are attending around you. 

As it gets more packed, you squish closer to Anna, keeping a protective hand over her shoulder, her opposite hand on yours. You’re a wall together, only having fun with and for each other. The bass of one song begins to hurt your ears, wincing when the beat drops. You go to tell Anna, hoping that you both can step away from where the speakers are focused, when you feel a large hand slide on to your waist. 

Anna’s eyebrows come together in concern, looking around your shoulder to see who has their hand on you. She relaxes almost instantly, smile appearing. “Hey!” She yells, removing her hand from your shoulder. “I knew you would show up anyways!”

“Pope is by the bar, buying you a drink.” A familiar voice booms next to you, and you immediately know it is Frankie. You turn around in his embrace, watching the smirk on his face creep up into a smile when he looks down at you. “Hey, baby.”

“Hi, Fishy.” You slur, giggling when his eyebrows shoot up at your nickname for him. You hadn’t called him Fish, even after learning of the nickname. 

“How many drinks have you had?” He asks, leaning into your ear to speak more softly. He brings one hand up to your cheek, lightly stroking at your jaw with his thumb as if he knows the music is too loud for you.

You bite your cheek, swaying in his arms before holding up your hand. “Plenty!” You yell, slapping your hand on to your jaw over his fingers. “The music is too loud.”

Frankie nods, pulling you with him over to the bar. You’re smiling at him, eyes unable to move away from his face until he sits you down on a barstool with a quick kiss on the cheek. He looks over to  where Anna is leaning against the counter before raising his eyebrows subtly at you. Her arms crossed and annoyed next to Santiago. “Alright over here?” Frankie asks, resting his hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, man.” Santiago calls, looking over to Anna who downs a shot. She looks over at you, softening her gaze. 

“Are you all set?” She asks, looking only at you.

You nod, pushing away from Frankie. “Let’s go to the bathroom, and then I’ll have Fishy take me home.” You hold your hand out for her, snatching it and letting her pull you along to the bathroom as Frankie watches you. He winks, making you giggle happily before stepping into the low lit room. “Are you okay? You want to come home with me instead of Santi?” You slur out. 

“No, it’s okay.” She sighs, laughing as you step into a stall and stumble to sit. “He and I need to talk anyway.”

You hum, sitting quietly before blurting out. “I feel hot in this dress, I get why you have so many now.”

You hear Anna laugh through the stall door, your coordination slow and clumsy as you stand. “It’s all about how you feel in the dress, honey.” You open the door, looking at her and smiling. “And, sometimes, it’s the alcohol too.”

-

When you say your goodbyes to Anna, hugging her tightly and waiting for her to get into Santiago’s truck, you’re whisked away by a smiling Frankie. “You’re very funny.” He muses, helping you into the passenger seat of his own vehicle.

“What did I do?” You question, pushing crunchy hair out of your face unsuccessfully. The hairspray you and Anna had thought you needed suddenly feels too heavy on your head.

“Fishy? Really?” He laughs, shutting the door and walking around to get into the driver’s seat. “Where did that come from?”

You shrug, tilting your head to look out the window as he pulls away from the curb. “It’s just the rum.”

He hums again, placing his hand on your knee and driving with just one hand. His thumb traces circles into your skin, causing you to break out in goosebumps that he smiles at. “That’s a very pretty dress, hermosa.”

You smile, looking at him and attempting to bat your eyelashes. You think you’re probably unsuccessful. “It’s sparkly.” You whisper. The sober part of your brain wants to hit you, as that was not what you intended to say. 

He chuckles, giving your knee a squeeze. “Very sparkly. Lots of skin too.” He husks out, pulling into a parking spot in front of your apartment. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

He helps you out of his truck, sliding your key out of your fingers to help you into the apartment. You sink into your couch, leaning back and eyeing him as he slips off his boots at the door, and his hat on your coat stand. “How was your meeting with Santi?”

“Good.” He confirms, standing straight and walking over to you. “Need help with your shoes?” He smirks when he kneels down and you gasp, nodding happily with a blush painting your cheeks. God, him on his knees– “No funny business tonight.”

You give a small pout as his fingers clasp the strap, wiggling it through the buckle and sliding it off your arched foot. You sigh happily when he sets it down on the carpet, moving to the other foot. “Got some things planned out for this trip, and we’ll make some adjustments as needed. Need to get a bank ready too, even though it seems too soon.”

“Anna and Santiago are having issues.” You hiccup, watching as he looks up your legs before to your face. “She says he just stares off into the distance.” 

He nods, patting the side of your leg. “He’s upset. Thinks he’s going to let us down.” Frankie admits, wincing when you frown. “Do you need help putting on pajamas? Or can I make us some food and you won’t fall asleep on the bed?”

You clock that he has changed the subject, but can’t help it when you say. “You don’t want to help me? Take off this dress?” You wiggle your shoulders as tantalizingly as you can, making him laugh. 

“As tempting as that is hermosa, you get too handsy when you’re tipsy.” He laughs, helping you to stand and petting the hair in your face to be behind your ear. “Go get changed, I’ll make you something.”

You watch him go to the kitchen, pouting for a moment longer before flouncing into the bedroom and finding comfortable pants and a shirt of Frankie’s he had left recently. You could get used to this.

6 months later

Frankie finishes the sentence on the page in front of him, glancing his eyes up to your face. He sees the way you’re biting your lip, anxiously tapping your foot against the carpet. “Querida–”

“You can tell me it’s bad.” You spit out, running a shaking hand through your hair. “I have to read this to the class, and if it’s not good then you need to tell me. I have to rewrite it.” The clock is ticking as far as you’re concerned, and Frankie is acutely aware of it. He has tried to coax you away from the assignment, over and over to no avail. You’re dead set on finishing it. 

“No.” Frankie says firmly, smiling at you as he holds the page close to his chest. “It’s beautiful. Really, really good.” He means it, to his core. Just as he had with all your other work, but something about this one was different.

Your face softens, an embarrassed flush creeping up your neck at the tone of his voice. “You’re just saying that?” You question, holding out your hand for the piece of paper. 

He shakes his head, refusing to give it up. “I wouldn’t lie to you about that.” He says quietly, looking down at your words again.

Your poetry was what he would describe as easy. Smooth reading, vivid in painting a picture, without large and confusing words for dummies like him. He could feel your voice, hear you in his head as he read it silently. Ever since you had taken the courage to start school again in creative writing, he could see the improvements. He could see the passion as you sat next to him most nights, his couch or yours, scribbling away until you were satisfied, leaning against him to fall asleep after the words had consumed your every thought. Between your class and him being at the hangar more, he had opted to start driving you to work just to spend more time with you.

You cleared your throat, shaking your hand at him to give back your work. He stood, taking a couple steps over to you and setting the paper on your desk. Leaning in, his lips pressed softly to your forehead. “I want to see your name on a book.” He whispered quietly. 

You gasped, eyes wide as you pulled away from him. “I’m nowhere near close to something like that!”

“Eventually.” He shrugs, resting his hand on the back of your neck to hold you in place. “Your cute little smile on the back cover.” He smirks, squeezing the tension out of your muscles. “You’re talented, baby. You’ll write poetry for a generation. Do you hear me?”

You try to brush him off, but he’s not having any of it. He refuses to let you speak negatively about your writing as he leans over you and presses kisses to your face, over and over until you are giggling in delight. He laughs with you, pressing a final kiss to the underside of your jaw and holding his breath as he feels you relax against him. “I hear you.” You sigh, eyeing him sleepily. 

“Good.” He husks, pulling you away from your desk and on to your bed, where his hands find purchase at your thighs. You hum as he maneuvers you to be cuddled against him, legs wrapped around his body and his arms around your shoulders. His hand trails up and down your back slowly, soothing himself as your breathing gets heavier with each passing of his fingers. “Relax with me.”

It isn’t long before you nod off with the setting sun, exhausted from self-induced stress and worry of the assignment you took on. Frankie feels you slack against him, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks as you dream, warm in his embrace. He feels peaceful, after months with you supporting him and him returning it for you. 

Frankie shuts his eyes at the thought of how close he was to caving into his addiction when Santiago first suggested going back. How you, unknowingly, had kept him grounded enough to seek the help he needed. 

“You can’t rely on just one or two people, Francisco.” You said quietly, eyes flicking to Benny who was sitting in the corner of his couch. He nodded along with your words. “It’s your decision on what to do, and I’m so thankful you’ve been honest, but I need your help in finding what works best for you.”

“Do you want to do AA or therapy?” Benny gruffed out bluntly, wincing when you shot him a look in warning. 

Frankie laughed quietly, shaking his head from the doorway. It wasn’t the ambush he thought he would get, but it was the appropriate one. “The AA meetings around here aren’t great. So, which therapist is it then?”

He feels lucky to have you. 

You adjust in his hold, snuggling your face into the crook of his neck and breathe deeply. The humid breath against his skin makes him smile, his hands twitching to tighten around you. He thinks he’s in love with you, whispering it into existing as you continue to sleep soundly in his arms. 

1 year later

You’re nervously pacing around your kitchen, phone stuck to your ear as Anna tries to soothe you. “They’ll be alright honey. This is why they waited the whole year, right?” Anna confirms, but you hear the sound of her biting at her nails. She’s nervous too. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with me talking about this?” You cringe, bringing your shoulders up to your ears as you hear the tell tale huff of her trying to control her emotions. She’s been sad-it’s been months since the girls night out where her and Santiago broke up, but Anna continues to be the sounding board for your nerves about Frankie going to South America. 

“Yes, of course it’s okay that you talk to me about this.” You hear running water through the line. “I still…care about him. You already know how I feel about Santiago. He needs to do this before he’s normal again and Frankie is your boyfriend, you’re allowed to be concerned about him. This is…not a typical thing to have to deal with.” Anna amends, the water stopping and a dull thump. “These dishes have to be soaked anyway.”

“I knew you were doing dishes.” You say triumphantly, stopping in your tracks and looking to your own sink. You had avoided doing dishes for a couple days, and now you thought they were piling too high. Maybe you should do some too…

“Focus, honey.” Anna giggles, taking a deep breath. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Well…they could die. And we won’t know.” You immediately blurt, tears threatening to bubble over at the mention of it.

Anna hums thoughtfully, carefully answering. “Frankie won’t keep you wondering.” 

You nod, forgetting she can’t see you. “I know.”

“It’s alright to be scared.” She whispers through the phone, and you swear you hear her sniffle. “You love him, don’t you?”

“We haven’t…” You stutter at the thought, a soft knock on the door before Frankie’s head peeks around the corner of your entryway. He smiles, silently stepping in and sliding off his boots. “He’s just gotten here.”

“I’ll text you.” She sighs. “Keep me updated tomorrow? Love you.”

“Of course, love you.” With a quick click, you slide your phone into your back pocket and turn to Frankie, whose hands are in his pockets as he observes you. “What?”

He shrugs, smirking. “You look wound tight, querida.” 

You scoff, walking toward the couch and sitting heavily. “Well, one of us should be.” You mumble, pushing him away from you half-heartedly when he sits down and wraps an arm around you. 

Frankie waits for you to settle, watching you intently as his eyes flick back and forth between your lips and eyes. “Tell me what you’re feeling.” He says lowly, tightening his hand around your shoulder. 

“I’m asking because…I’m concerned.” Frankie was running his fingers through his hair like his life depended on it, yanking at the roots before sitting down on your couch. “Do you remember how you shut down in the coffee shop? What happened there?”

Frankie had been more open about his feelings since starting therapy, and you wanted to encourage that. Sitting down next to him, you sigh. “I was insecure.”

“Why?” Is his immediate response. He didn’t understand how you could be insecure-he was absolutely infatuated with you. 

“I thought that Anna wanted to…try and…” You shuffle and readjust, embarrassed next to him. “It feels silly now, but I thought she wanted to like…take you away from me. Even though we weren’t together.”

Frankie pauses tilting his head. It suddenly clicks in his head, the day he was hiding in your closet and the face you made after her comment. “Was she serious? That day I was hiding?”

You shake your head. “No, no. She and I have this, stupid running joke from high school that I grew out of and she…well she didn’t. And, I didn’t tell her sooner–”

“Why?” Again Frankie pushes, clenching his teeth. 

“So many questions.” You smile as he leans back, mumbling to himself to chill out. You take a deep breath and try to start somewhere in the story that makes the most sense. “A couple years ago, I was trying to rebound off a guy that had been dating me that was really in love with her.” He grumbles more, not giving a true response but frowning deeply. “And the rebound, he was just a fuck boy…didn’t mean anything, but I was getting attached because it had been so long since I felt like someone wanted me, you know? And he had sex with Anna in the bathroom like that night anyway.”

“She knew you liked him and fucked him anyways?” Frankie’s anger is apparent now, and your cheeks heat with both embarrassment and happiness. Frankie being protective over you was a nice change. 

“I thought she knew, yeah.” You say quietly. “But she didn’t know. I’m giving her a chance to…fix it.” 

Frankie pauses, trying to go through his memories of Anna interacting with him before he cuts them short and grabs your hands. “Thank you for telling me.” He brings your hand up to his mouth, peppering kisses to your knuckles until you lean back on the couch with him. He pauses when you sigh, a small smile appearing as you look at him. “I don’t like guessing what you’re feeling.”

You nod, clearing your throat of any lingering emotion. “I’m working on it.”

A final kiss to your cheek before he squeezes your hand. “We can work on it together.”

You take a deep breath, trying to avoid his gaze. You’re still trying to make sure you say exactly what you’re feeling-no room for guessing. No room for error, just like you both had agreed on. “I’m worried.”

He hums, bringing his other hand up to your cheek and lightly tracing your jaw. “I am too. Anything specific?”

You bite your lip, wincing at how the immediate thought was of him dying. “I’m worried about whether you will be okay.” You whisper, trying your best to hold back tears. 

You don’t succeed when Frankie tilts his head and blinks slowly at you, a small but sad smile appearing on his face. His thumb brushes under your eyes, willing your tears away. “You know there’s a plane ticket for you, for two weeks from now, to come down there with a list of locations and names if you don’t hear from me.” He whispers back. “Do you want me to not go?”

You scoff again, pulling your face away from his hold and wiping at your own eyes. “Of course I don’t want you to go.”

“But do you really not want me to go?” He asks again, resting his hand on your knee. 

You pause, shaking your head. “That’s not up to me.”

He waits, squeezing your leg to get your attention back on him. “Let me bring back this money, with all of us in one piece.” 

You nod, letting tears flow freely now. “I’m scared, Francisco.” 

He gasps lightly, the sound of his full name rare to come out of your mouth. “I’m scared too.” He goes to stand, but falls on his knees in front of you, spreading your legs to let him shuffle between them, to be closer to you. “Look at me, baby.” He pulls your attention with a sudden jolt at how serious his tone has become. “I can’t make promises to you. I can’t tell you I will come back without it eating at me while I’m there. I would hate to make you a promise and for the worst to happen. But everything has been thought of, from every angle possible.”

You nod, wiping at your face again. He grabs at your wrists, holding you firm before pulling you towards him and pressing his lips to yours. He pushes his tongue against yours, aggressive in how he shows his want for you, and something tells you that he needs it like this–that its the only way to distract him from his own worries. 

You think it will distract you too. 

Burying your hands into his hair, you press your mouth to his desperately again. He groans in surprise, but lets you lead and slides his hands down your sides, pulling at the hem of your shirt. You pull back enough to nip at his jaw, at the bald spot in his beard before sucking a mark into his skin.

He hisses, pulling you flush to him and silently lifting you and himself, blindly walking toward your bedroom. You stay attached to his neck, desperate for something he can feel for the next few days while he is gone. He drops you on the bed, laughing when you squeak in surprise and bobbing up and down on the mattress as he reaches for the band of your shorts. 

You’re trying to commit it to memory. The sound of his moans, his laugh, the way his skin slides against yours. There’s this voice deep in your brain warning you to not forget, because you don’t know what will happen. It distracts you enough that suddenly you look up when Frankie calls your name, waiting for your eyes to flick to his. “Come back to me, baby.”

You shakily inhale, reaching for him to lean over you rather than sitting above, pressing your lips to his again lightly. You’re naked together, skin to skin as he breathes deeply and watches you. The words are stuck in your throat, dry and unable to emerge. 

Frankie brings one hand to your cheek, holding you steady. You feel his press against your center, wet with want and anticipation. “I love you, querida.”

You gasp at the words, him slowly sliding into you and holding his position fully seated inside. He groans, closing his eyes for a moment before locking them back on yours. “I love you. Do you hear me? I love you.”

“I hear you.” You whine, shutting your eyes tightly and wincing at the feeling in your heart-how it breaks that he might not come back. “I love you.”

He sighs in relief, sliding out of you before pressing in again and setting a slow pace. “That’s it baby. Take me. You’re so fucking good for me, huh?” He holds himself above you, leaning back to sit up straight as he watches you squirm, clutching at the bed sheets, for one of his arms. He keeps eyes contact with you as he gathers spit in his mouth, letting it slowly drop on to your clit before pulling back again and setting a rougher pace. “Fuck–I love you so much.”

You begin to cry, overwhelmed by the feeling of him inside you, of the feeling of him loving you. He leans forward worriedly, asking if you’re alright but continues when you dig nails into his back. “Keep going. Fuck–p-please.” 

He shushes you, keeping close to you as he brings you and himself to release. He whispers how much he loves you, and you to him, resting on top of you while still inside. You revel in the feeling of each other, only realizing you’ve started to doze off when he leans away. “You’ll either love it, or you’ll hate it.”

You frown, confused by what he’s saying while trying to be conscious enough to understand. Frankie slides off the bed, naked as he walks back into your living room and shuffles around in the duffle he brought with him. 

When he comes back he smiles, hands behind his back before kneeling on to the bed and relaxing next to you. He pulls his hat out from behind him, holding it out to you expectantly. “I…I want you to hold on to this.”

With shaking fingers you reach out, rubbing the worn fabric between your thumb and forefinger. “Are you sure? It’s your favorite.”

He smiles, nodding. “Yeah, baby. Don’t want to lose it in the jungle.” Your breath hitches, tears coming to your eyes. You nod, watery and worn as you lean into him for a hug. You feel his own breath hitch with your ear against his chest. “I love you, baby.”

You sniffle, trying to control yourself. “I love you too.”

You swallow your tears as Frankie drives up the long dirt road to the hangar. “Covertly leaving.” He said early this morning, kissing you lightly at the crook of your neck. “Don’t want to be stopped at the airport like last time.” 

He can feel your nerves, and he works hard to keep his own at bay as he holds on to your knee. The bumpy road doesn’t affect you like it did on the first date, the early morning light just barely peeking over the horizon. 

You’ve been silent since you left the apartment with him, stoic in how you present. You’re trying to keep it together. 

When Frankie pulls up to the building, Will’s truck is tucked behind a few trees and covered with a tarp just as planned. You’ve been given explicit instructions to drive Frankie’s truck back to your apartment and to work as if he is staying with you, as well as where all of the paperwork is for what he owns and who to contact. You’re a crucial part to the plan. 

Frankie grabs his spare hat from the backseat, old and ratty, placing it on his head with a sigh. He swallows roughly as he steps out and around to your side, opening the passenger door to find you still sitting and staring straight forward. “Alright?” 

You nod, grabbing onto his outstretched hand and hopping out of his truck. You clear your throat as you step into the hangar, Frankie’s fingers squeezing yours briefly before he stepped away to the helicopter that had been brought in for the mission. You stand awkwardly at the doorway, eyes flicking over to the other boys who are around the folding table where hot coffee is made. 

“Up early, aren’t you?” Santiago’s voice filters through your thoughts, his gentle smile filling your vision. 

“A-a little.” You flash a smile, accepting the coffee from Santi’s outstretched hand and holding it with shaking fingers. You hope it will keep your hands warm. 

Santiago stands in front of you awkwardly, watching Will and Benny gather duffles and loading them into the helicopter while Frankie does his routine of checking the helicopter in the pit. Santiago’s brow furrows for a moment before he looks up to you again. “Is…a-are you and Anna, doing better?”

The question disarms you, shaking your head in confusion. “Yeah, of course.”

“Good. I just ask because…well, you know.” Santiago clears his throat awkwardly again. “Sorry, I uh…is Anna doing okay?”

You sigh, seeing where this is going. “She’s okay. Yeah.” You pause for a moment, debating how much to share. “She…worries about you.” 

Santiago’s eyes brighten in what you think is hope before dampening. You stare at it for a long moment, his eyes are dark, tired and drooping. He looks to be frowning, but you think it’s just how his face has stayed since him and Anna broke up. “I worry about her too.”

He nods at Frankie as he approaches, stepping away without another word. His hand rests on the small of your back, your hands still clutching the cup of coffee Santiago gave you. It’s purple out now, the sun filtering through the trees in a way that makes everything appear different. The air is still crisp, biting against your skin. 

When Frankie turns you to face him, his fingers pushing your chin up to look him in the eye. “It’s time for you to go home, baby.”

You breath catches as you nod. “O-okay.” You swallow before blurting out. “Please be safe.”

He blinks slowly, smiling. “Two weeks. I left my wallet on my bedside, I want you to buy yourself groceries while I’m away with my card.” You go to tell him no, but he stops you with a heavy sigh. “I love you. Do you hear me?”

“Frankie, I’m not using your card, there won’t be a trace of you leaving anyways. I’ll drive your truck I swear–”

“Do you hear me?” He interrupts, holding you still as he looks to be committing you to memory. 

You sigh, nodding once. “I love you, too.”

You wait by the driver’s door of his truck, as he takes a step back. “Buy food with my card. Not because of the mission, but because I want you to eat. Two weeks, and I’ll be back.” He says quietly, waiting for you to open the door and drive away. 

It’s awkward for a moment, as your mind is racing but your body is still. “Right. Two weeks.” You agree, finally turning to his truck and shutting the door. You look at him as you start the ignition, pulling the gear into reverse. He stands in the drive as you go down the dirt road, watching him in the rearview mirror. He stands tall, hands in his pockets as he watches you before waving just once. Tears sprout out of your eyes the moment he disappears over the hill.

[pedrostylez]

Something Else- pt. 5

pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

chapter summary: buying groceries with Frankie 👀 and getting ready to go to Benny’s fight with Anna gives you the courage to say something to her

rating: 18+ (no minors please) Explicit

word count: 3.6k

warnings etc: Frankie w/o a daughter, triple frontier movie plot has happened, dirty talk, pet names, oral (m receiving), (some slight face fucking whaaattttt) eating, jealousy, friendship dynamics, fluff, friendships, competition, drinking, 2nd person pov, no use of y/n

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday! Please be on the lookout on Tuesday for the first side drabble that will be less than 1k words that gives some further background on other characters in this story. I've worked really hard to only give what reader and Frankie are thinking in their respective parts in each chapter, BUT there's side story that is important too! Hope that is okay with everyone :) Please support by commenting, sending me thoughts, and reblogging. I appreciate every single one of you who reads this!

Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11 @jake-g-lockley, @theanothersherlockian, @anoverwhelmingdin, @guelyury, @harriedandharassed, @wintersquirrel @scarletthefierce @paleidiot @brittmb115

Frankie knows that he is infatuated with you. He can’t really help it. 

After that first date, you watched a movie on his couch, laying in his shirt and your underwear, and he couldn’t help but trail his fingers up and down your leg until you looked at him with a small smile and an enticing “c’mere, Frankie.” that had him pouncing on you. 

And then all weekend long you spent time with him. You worked on Saturday, but he dropped you off and picked you up, spending the night at yours the next day. In each other’s back pockets, constantly together. He felt like a teenager with an obsession that he couldn’t shake. 

By Monday, when he had to go back to the hangar, he even offered for you to come with him. “The guys won’t mind. Benny was asking about you the other day.”

You had smiled at him and shook your head. “No, if I start going then Anna will insist on going too. And that’s not fair to you guys, you’re trying to get things done.” 

He had hummed at you, wanting to argue that you could come, that what they were doing wasn’t that important, just Pope wanting us to be prepared if he comes across another drug lord that has lots of money, but he wasn’t about to tell you all that. The way that you accepted that he and the other guys just “had things to do” and didn’t question it further until he was ready to discuss it, already had him wondering where someone like you had been all his life. 

Frankie had wondered all weekend long if you would bring up what he told you in the cafe, about his previous drug problem. You had paused many times, debating something in your brain before saying something that would surprise him, but never questioning what he had previously divulged. In a way, it put him at ease, but there was a pit in his stomach about having to tell you about it. 

When Benny picked him up, knocking on his door before waltzing into his kitchen, the look on his face at seeing you perched on his counter in one of his shirts and no pants, Frankie between your legs and kissing at your neck had Frankie laughing when he realized. Benny didn’t get surprised easily–but the wide eyes and blush creeping up his face to match yours said otherwise. “I didn’t know–”

“It’s okay!” You exclaimed, pushing Frankie away, hopping off the counter, and setting down the half-bagel you were chewing. “I’ll find some pants!” Your face was as red as ever before, eyeing Frankie that let him know you didn’t appreciate being bottomless in front of his friends. He just smiled at you, squeezing your hip affectionately before you ducked your head and turned. 

You ran away down the hall to his bedroom, and Frankie’s chuckle turned into a full laugh as Benny covered his eyes, mortified. “Sorry, Ben.”

Benny groaned, sliding his hands down his face. “Catfish, I swear to god. I didn’t know she was going to be here. I would have knocked!”

Frankie nods, grabbing the bagel you left and taking a bite. “I know, I didn’t tell you. My bad.” Benny just kept staring at Frankie like he had two heads, and in a way, Frankie thought he might; he was used to being the stoic, serious one who needed space from the others. He felt different after just a weekend.

You reappeared with buttoned jeans and an exasperated sigh. You looked over to Frankie mid-bite, pouting. “Hey, that’s mine!” Your face was still red, but fading as you reached for the remaining bit of toasted bread unsuccessfully.

“Sorry about just barging in,” Benny said quietly, facing you. He glanced at Frankie quickly and then back to your face. “But honestly? You’ve got some killer legs–”

“Alright!” Frankie frowned, taking the remaining bagel and holding it out to you. You were giggling, biting the bagel out of his hand before flicking your eyes to Benny. “That’s enough. Let’s get going.”

“‘You coming with?” Benny asked, pulling his keys out of his pocket. The look was expectant, assuming you would be tagging along. Frankie looked over at you with wide eyes, hoping you would maybe change your mind.

You shook your head. “Nah, got some stuff to do and then I work tonight.” You shrugged, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Have fun or…work hard or whatever.” You stumbled, smiling at the two of them. You grabbed your own keys, waiting for them to step toward Frankie’s door. 

In the apartment parking lot, you waved them off, blushing again when Frankie grabbed at your hip to pull you close. “When can I see you again?” He huffed into your ear, feeling you press closer to him.

“I’m workin’ the next few days.” You sigh, tilting your head toward Benny who is watching on, curious. “Text me later?”

Frankie nods, letting go of you and watching as you step into your own vehicle, smiling as you pull away. Frankie won’t get into Benny’s truck until you’re out of sight, shutting the door behind him and waiting to get moving to the hangar. 

Benny has different plans. “So, I assume Friday went well?”

Frankie scoffs, glancing at his friend and then leaning back. “Yeah, went really well.”

Benny hums, starting the vehicle but not pulling out of the spot. “You know dumb and dumber will ask questions too, since you canceled flight practice on Friday.” Benny reminds.

Frankie takes a deep breath, shaking his head. “It’s not their business.” He mumbles, waiting for Benny to start moving, but when he doesn’t he turns to him again. “What?”

Benny watches him, shrugging and shaking his head. “Maybe bring her to my fight next week?” He asks, reversing out of the space. “We all just want to see you happy, and make sure she’s a good fit for you.”

Frankie is ready to argue, wanting to come to your defense but holds back. He knows that between the three of them, they saved his life on more than one occasion. They let him crash at their places until he was on his feet again, brought him to meetings even when he didn’t want to go…he felt this twinge of guilt that he had been hiding you away, even though you didn’t want to be in larger groups anyways. “I’ll talk to her.”

The next few days are bliss. 

Frankie has consistently invited you over for dinner with no expectations or brings you meals and spends time with you. He mentions Benny’s fight, saying “Benny would invite you himself if I let him be alone with you.” and you are quick to agree to go. You even go so far as to ask if Anna is going to be invited because you wouldn’t mind seeing her. 

You feel confident that Frankie won’t be distracted by Anna. 

He’s so attentive. He asks what you want, gives his input, and meets you in the middle. Sure, you only have food choices, movie choices, and places visited to base that off of, but you can feel it. You have to remind yourself it has only been a couple weeks and to not get too carried away, but you have this feeling in your stomach that this is right. 

You complained that you needed to go grocery shopping and he was happy to go with you, trailing along behind you for most of it, but perusing your list and going to the next few isles to find them. 

“You buy bulk laundry detergent, but you can’t even lift the container.” He mumbles, pushing your cart into the checkout line. 

He nudges you away when you try to argue that you can pick it up, smiling when you huff out a mumbled: “I’ve been doing it.” Sliding your card into the terminal to pay for your groceries. 

“I know, you’re very strong.” Frankie nods along, no sign of a joke or making fun of you. You eye him, unsure what to make of him as he helps you back into his truck, drives you to your apartment, and helps you unload. 

You’re quick to grab the laundry detergent this time, waddling to your front door trying to not break a sweat. He doesn’t need to know that you typically carry it in with a rolling cart you keep stored in your closet specifically for the task. You can hear him laughing, grabbing your reusable bags that had also been stuffed to the brim with other essentials. When you’re trying to unlock the door while also holding up the detergent, Frankie reaches around you and picks the key out of your hands. You try to not blush at how his arm brushes against yours, or how he turns his head to look down at you with a smirk on his face. 

When you get inside, Frankie is quick to remove all the items that need to be in the refrigerator; coffee creamer, ground turkey, and eggs. He glances at you before sliding his fingers over yours and grabbing the detergent from your hand. “I’ll take it, sweetheart.” He lifts it over your head and into the laundry room where there is a shelf where you typically keep the detergent. He sets it there gently, turning to you with a raised brow and a chuckle. “What are you looking at hermosa.” 

You shrug, turning back to the bags he set on the counter. “Oh, nothing much I guess. Just your arms.”

“My arms?” He asks, confusion clear on his face. “What’s wrong with them?” He looks at his bicep, pulling his arm around to look at the back of one of them and not realizing that he is basically flexing them in your face. 

“Nothing is wrong with them.” You laugh, pushing his shoulder to get him to look at you. “They’re just…big.”

He squints at you, similar to how you looked at him in the grocery store to gauge if there is a joke within your words. When finds none, he smirks at you, adjusting his hat and leaning against the counter. “Is that a good thing?” He questions, crossing them over his chest. 

You feign disinterest. “Means you can lift heavy stuff for me.” You shrug, smiling at him as he continues to try and dissect your answer. “So, tell me about the fight tomorrow. What should I be expecting?”

Frankie hears you shift gears, stretching his neck as he watches you pull the rest of the groceries out of the bags, sorting them on your counter. “Pope, Will, and I have seats in the front. Benny already knows you and Anna are coming, so he reserved a couple more seats. Lots of yelling, sweat, and probably blood.” He drawls on, looking up at your ceiling. “It will be a couple hours. Pope wants us all to drive together, but I figured I would ask you first…”

You look over at him as you’re putting away the pasta, seeing the tension in his shoulders as he waits for your response. “It’s fine with me if it’s easier.”

He brings his eyes down to you, crouched on the tile in front of the lowest drawer next to the fridge. “But, is that what you want?”

You shrug, moving the items around in the drawer. “It doesn’t bother me, Frankie. Unless you just want me alone in your truck?” You smirk, looking up at him again as you close the drawer. You realize just how close you are to him, how you could reach out and just touch the outside of his jeans–

He smiles, shaking his head. “I’ll take you any way I can have you.” He huffs out, watching your hand that has suddenly reached out to his pant leg. “What are you doing?”

“What?” You ask quietly, adjusting yourself to be a bit closer, hand resting on his thigh. “You’re just…in my way. Gotta get to that cupboard.”

He turns his body toward you, one hip leaning on the counter still, looking down at the cabinetry. “Right here?” He says lowly, eyes going half-lidded at seeing you on your knees in front of him. 

He’s silent as you nod your head, opening the cupboard to slide in the cleaning supplies you bought under the sink, using his leg to lean on. When you close the door, you hear the smallest groan leave his lips as you bite your bottom one. “Sorry, lost my balance for a second.”

You can tell he is trying to control his breathing, his eyes flicking between yours and your mouth, his hand reaching down to your chin. He lets his thumb trail across your lip before pulling it from your teeth, “That’s alright, baby.” He trails his thumb up, your mouth parted as he runs the pad of his finger over your top teeth. 

He whines when you close your lips around the tip of his thumb and give a gentle suck. He’s holding your chin steady while you lick at his thumb, your hands reaching forward to the button of his jeans. You get them fully unzipped before he’s pulling his hand away to stop you. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” You immediately respond, pulling at his pants again to see if he will let you. He’s unsure, looking between your face and your hands before lifting them away to let you. You smile triumphantly, biting at your lip again. “Let me make you feel good?”

He nods, jaw going slack as you let him free of the confines of his pants. He’s big-wide and weeping from his head already. His hair is dark, well trimmed and trails up to his belly button as you had looked at before, and you feel saliva collect under your tongue. When you look up at him again, he’s holding on to the counter with one hand, knuckles white from the effort. His other hand doesn’t know what it’s doing, reaching up into his hair and knocking his hat loose on his head as he watches you. 

When you lean forward to lick at the pearl of pre-come, he shuts his eyes tight, unconsciously reaching down to hold the back of your head. “Fuck, hermosa–” You give a small giggle, Frankie opens his eyes to see you again and smiles himself. “Sorry, you’re just–fuck you’re so sexy.” He laughs, watching as you lean forward again to wrap your lips around the head of his cock. 

You hum in acknowledgment, flicking your tongue over the ridge of his head to watch him shiver before you move your mouth down over him. He groans at the feeling, watching you with his fingers tangled in your hair. 

The thing about Frankie over these past few days is that he wants eye contact. It’s how he gauges how you’re feeling, how he expresses what he likes, and he’s desperate to keep his eyes on you. Even as his face gets red and his chest begins heaving with an impending orgasm, blinking rapidly with the want to close his eyes, he keeps them on you. 

Your hands are resting on his legs and hips, holding him steady for you to bob your head up and down. You pause when you get as close to the base as you can, letting him feel the inside of your mouth for a moment before pulling off. Catching your breath, a string of spit connects you still to the head, watching another pearl dribble from him. “Holy shit, baby.” He heaves, fingers tightening in your hair. You move one hand off of him and guide it to the back of your head, covering his hand with yours. 

Frankie’s brows furrow in confusion until you open your mouth as you push your own head back onto him. He whines, shutting his eyes and leaning his head back as you continue to guide him and yourself, wanting him to push you onto him. “You want me to fuck your face?” He groans, looking down at you again. 

You nod as best as you can before letting go of his hand and placing it back on his hip, squeezing it in confirmation. He hisses out as he begins to gently push you forward, his other hand lifting off the counter to rest on your shoulder. As he pushes his hips forward, stopping just short of the back of your throat, his fingers tickle up the side of your neck, resting there experimentally. “You look s-so fucking good l-like this. H-holy shit, I…” Frankie is starting to babble, and you would smile if your mouth wasn’t already full. “You gonna swallow me, sweetheart?”

You moan as an approval, focusing your own bobbing to help him push you further onto him, digging your nails into his leg. He shouts your name in warning, thrusting forward without any further thought before finishing in your mouth. His chest is flushed red from what you can see from his shirt, a thin sheen of sweat over his neck and forehead reflecting in your overhead lights. He’s breathing heavily as you pull off, looking up at him as you swallow and open your mouth for him to see. “All gone.” You whisper hoarsely, biting your lip again when he groans. 

He pulls you up, his pants still undone as he cups your face. “You can’t be doing that.” He sighs, leaning in to press his lips to yours, tongue searching your mouth. You give a surprised squeak at how his tongue twirls with yours, not caring if you still taste like him. “You’re too good at that. Won’t ever be able to last.”

You smile, pecking at his cheek. “That was the point, Frankie.” You laugh, looking down to pull up his pants around his hips. “Now, help me put the rest of these groceries away.”

Getting ready for this group outing is giving you anxiety you didn’t think you were capable of. 

You’ve always gone out in groups when you’re with Anna; this really shouldn’t be any different. But something in the pit of your stomach is making you nervous, watching Anna put on highlighter in your mirror, yammering on and on about Santiago. 

“He’s just so sweet to me.” She sighs, setting down a brush and looking at you through the mirror. You’re sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, feet up close to you as you let your nail polish dry. “I feel like I might be…too wild for him?”

“I’m sure that’s not the case.” You mumble, looking up at her. “He was in the military, he can’t be that sweet.”

“He still is, technically.” Anna shrugs. “Says he’s going to have to go down to South America again soon for a month or so. But he’s not mean or anything–doesn’t put me in my place ever and like…yeah that’s fine but I like a little bit of a fight, ya know?” She turns, scrunching up her face. “I say I want someone to always agree with me, but give me a little excitement!”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “It’s only been a few months, babe. Give it time, you guys will argue about something and you’ll come to me and ask why he’s so mean.” You tease, watching a small smile appear on her face as she turns back around. 

“You’re probably right.” She sighs, brushing through her hair. “So…tell me about Frankie? Santi said Frankie is totally love-struck with you.”

You take a deep breath, standing up, and walking over to the mirror, grabbing your mascara. “He’s good. We’re….good. It’s still early but…” You debate how much to divulge to her, but then immediately decide to just say what you’re feeling. “I really like him.”

There’s a pause of tension in the air between you, Anna watching as you fidget to open the mascara tube. You don’t want to bring it up to your face until she responds, but staring at her is just as uncomfortable as pretending everything is fine. You jump when Anna squeals out, turning fully to you. “You like him!?” She’s smiling, she’s…happy for you?

“Well…yeah.” You crease your brow, smiling at her a little. 

“My plan worked!” Anna jumps up and down, clapping her hands. “I knew setting you up with him was a good idea. Santi wasn’t sure about bringing him along that one time, said he’s quiet and needs space but it’s so perfect!” 

You can’t help but smile at how excited she is for you, shrugging. “It’s only been a couple weeks but…Yeah, I really like him. I want to see where it goes.”

Anna nudges your hip with hers, looking at you expectantly. “You haven’t liked anyone in forever! I’m so happy for you.”

Her statement stops you in your tracks, looking at your reflection in the mirror before lifting the mascara to your face. “What do you mean, ‘not liked anyone forever’? That’s not true.” You step out into the hallway, waiting for her to follow you. A sharp knock comes to the door, announcing Santiago and Frankie’s arrival.

As she steps behind you, practically skipping, she shakes her head. “No, you haven’t! When was the last time you liked someone?” She scoffs, turning to you as you get to the door. 

You pause, hand on the knob. You can hear Santiago and Frankie through the door. Their voices are hushed and sharp. You’re suddenly debating how much to tell Anna again-but not about Frankie. All those years ago you had been adamant about not telling Anna that you had actually had feelings for Brad when she whisked him away during a night out. You had convinced yourself that it was your fault for not telling her sooner, and you didn’t want to destroy your friendship with Anna by saying it. But now? She couldn’t actually think that you hadn’t been interested in people for literal years. “I mean, I liked Brad.”

“What?” Anna’s face falls, looking at you in confusion and shock as you open the door to Frankie looking confused at Santiago. 

Frankie’s head snaps to yours, glancing at Anna before tilting his head. “Everything alright?” 

You look at Anna, her eyes still on you and glazed over in thought. “You guys okay?”

Santiago looks at Anna, reaching for her shoulder and stepping into the apartment. “We’re fine. You okay, Anna? You ready to go to the fight?”

Anna looks down at her hands for a moment, then over at you, shaking her head. “Yeah uh…I’m ready.”

[pedrostylez]

Something Else- pt. 4

pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

chapter summary: As you learn things about Frankie, you wonder how much Anna realizes how she affected you. Frankie is adamant about getting to know you more, exposing you to his life in ways Anna hasn’t been exposed to Santiago’s

rating: 18+ (no minors please) Explicit

word count: 7k

warnings etc: Frankie w/o a daughter, triple frontier movie plot has happened, protected p in v, oral (m and f receiving) dirty talk, breast play, eating, mentions of missing meals, jealousy, friendship dynamics, fluff, pet names, friendships, jealousy, competition, drinking, 2nd person pov, no use of y/n

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday! I hope you're just as excited as I am for their first date :) Things will continue to get heavier as we progress, and I might start putting out drabbles of back stories? Like Anna's reactions or Santi's observations? Idk, let me know what you think about that before I do it lol. Please support by commenting, sending me thoughts, and reblogging. I appreciate every single one of you who reads this!

Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11 @jake-g-lockley, @theanothersherlockian, @anoverwhelmingdin, @guelyury, @harriedandharassed, @wintersquirrel @scarletthefierce @paleidiot

You’ve been dreading seeing Anna. 

She came to your job to “just buy a coffee” to set up a girl’s night with you, and it was forced beyond belief. 

You really do love her like a sister, and sometimes sisters need space. You put on that face that your mother taught you early on; smile and deal with it. 

“I was thinking we could watch something silly, like just a couple episodes of a cartoon or something?” She asks at the end of the coffee bar, sipping from her matcha latte, that she requested you make because you “make it best.” Oat milk, a couple pumps of vanilla, light ice. You glance up at her as you wipe down the counter–even in just a t-shirt and jeans she looks effortlessly put together. Her hair is down, soft curls framing her face with a dewiness you’ve never been able to pull off. 

You sigh, setting the rag back in the sanitizing water. “Sure, that sounds okay. Do we want to cook?” You suggest, trying to show you are putting in effort. 

The bell above the door rings as you continue the conversation with her, smiling at all the right times and helping move the conversation along. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a hat, and whip your head over to see Frankie and Benny, Santiago already coming over to Anna. 

“Hey!” Anna squeals, hugging around Santi. “What are you doing here?”

“You said you were going to stop by, and we just got done at the hangar so we thought to pick something up,” Santiago says quietly, looking up at you and giving you a knowing smirk. “Frankie wanted to have a drink made by his girl anyway.”

You can feel your face flush red at the implication, looking over at Frankie’s smile. Santiago seemed to be just as forward as Anna, suggesting that you were “Frankie’s girl” even though you and Frankie had only been around each other a few times. Benny is watching the interaction, standing back to get the full picture. His eyes flick to yours briefly as he gives you a nod of acknowledgment. 

Frankie is at the counter, tilting his head as you come over. You’re suddenly nervous, wiping your hands against your apron that has chocolate sauce splattered on it. Ugh. “Uh, hi.” You say quietly, clearing your throat. 

You can hear Anna tittering, laughing with Santi and it makes you feel more embarrassed. Like you have an audience and you can’t escape this show that they have decided to watch– “You look beautiful, hermosa.” Frankie says quietly so no one else can hear it, eyes resting on you with not a care in the world. 

If you could blush more, you would at this very moment. You clear your throat, shaking your head. “What can I get you, Frankie?”

“Are we still on for this Friday?” He asks, smirking at you as you look down at the counter. You go to look over at Benny, Santi, and Anna, but Frankie pulls you back with his words. “Don’t worry about them. Just you and me right?” He’s just as quiet as before, smiling at you as you nod in confirmation. “Can you make me what you make for yourself?”

You sigh in relief, that Frankie isn’t asking for something overly sweet, or just black coffee. He wants what you make yourself; so that he can see you. You mark the cup with his order even though he doesn’t know what it is and look over at Benny. “Would you like anything?”

Benny shakes his head no, giving you a soft smile that matches Frankie’s. You get to work making Frankie’s drink; iced, easy, and a little sweet. It looks scarier than it is, with such little cream in it, but it isn’t needed. When you go to hand it to him, Santiago and Benny are bickering about what they did today. You look over to Frankie who is already looking at you, rolling his eyes at his friends arguing. “Ignore them.”

“No, I want her opinion actually,” Benny says, turning towards you. You widen your eyes, looking at Frankie across the counter and back to Benny. “Who do you think is a better fighter? Pope here, or Will?” 

Santiago scoffs, leaning against Anna as he has an arm wrapped around her. “How is that fair? She doesn’t know how either of us fight.”

“Why are you fighting?” You ask, stopping their bickering for them to look at you. Anna smirks, taking another sip of her drink. 

“Just, which one looks like it, no one is fighting,” Frankie says, leaning against the countertop. He has yet to take a sip of the drink you made him. 

“Except me, I’m the professional.” Benny concedes. “But that’s why I’m not an option.”

You pause, unsure if you knew that about Benny. “Wait, you’re a professional fighter?” You turn to Frankie, who’s smiling at you. 

“You didn’t know that?” Santiago exclaims, looking over at Frankie. “Next you’re going to say he didn’t tell you he’s a pilot.”

Your head whips to Frankie, who is still staring at you, eyes now wide and smiling bigger. “You’re a pilot?” You squeak out, listening to everyone laugh at you. It’s an irritating sound, one that is enhanced by Anna’s laugh–somehow she even knew?

Frankie must notice your nervousness, how you start to pull away at the sound of everyone laughing and reaches forward for your hand. “Hey, it hadn’t come up, and I only just got my license back.” He says quietly, eyes wide and open for you to read. “We just haven’t talked about it, right?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, giving a tight smile and nod. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right, sorry.” 

He holds on to your hand, giving it a squeeze before letting go and continuing to watch you. He looks like he’s about to say something more but–“Don’t worry!” Anna screeches, jumping back at the sound and looking over at her. “They all don’t really talk about what they do. I only knew because Santi told me he was going to be in a helicopter today.” Anna tries to soothe, looking over at Frankie with a knowing smile that makes your face drop. 

Your whole mask you had been wearing for Anna to play nice fades. “I’m so glad you know everything about him.” You say quietly, flicking your gaze to Frankie before turning around for the rag again. You close your eyes in frustration, not wanting to continue this back and forth anymore. You clear your throat, “I have to close up, guys. Can you leave?”

The silence is tense as everyone stops talking, shuffling of feet heading towards the door. When you look to the side, Frankie is still standing there, brows furrowed as he watches you. Anna stands just outside the door, oblivious to the change in mood as she kisses Santiago. “She doesn’t know anything about me, cariño.” Frankie states, watching you. You’re quick to look back at him after watching Santiago frown in your direction, looking down at Anna and asking a question. 

You crack your neck, closing your eyes. The way Frankie listens to what you said and addresses it head-on, whether or not you meant the words makes you question if you should have said it. “I didn’t say that to upset you, Frankie.” You say quietly, holding your apron by the edge. It’s worn down here, where you grab it often.

“I’m not upset.” He tilts his head, watching you for another beat. “You are, though. What happened, just now?”

You shake your head, clearing your throat. “I don’t know.” You do know. Anna has just put in your head that she knows Frankie better than you. That she will always have the upper hand. That she–

“I only just got my flying license back because of a drug problem,” Frankie says abruptly, watching for your reaction. 

You stop down your anxiety spiral, looking up to him. “Oh, I-I didn’t know that.” You whisper. 

“Neither does Anna.” Frankie nods, licking his lips. “Pope, Benny, and Will know, because they helped me get it back. They won’t tell her- even Pope won’t. I don’t want Anna to know.”

You shake your head, widening your eyes. “I wouldn’t tell her–”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Frankie smiles, leaning forward. “I’m telling you because I trust you.” He reaches for your hand, pulling you towards the counter, and leans over to kiss your cheek. And just like that, Frankie’s serious switch has changed back to playful, smirking at you and looking at your lips. “Thank you for the coffee.” He whispers, giving you a wink before leaning away and taking a sip. As he’s walking away he nods appreciatively at the cup. “Holy shit, this is what you get? That’s delicious.”

Frankie is satisfied with how he left your workplace, sliding into his seat next to Benny after Pope said he would go with Anna back to her place. The two of them together were unaware to the rest of the world after brief questions if everything was alright, and it made Frankie upset for you. He takes another sip of the coffee you made him-some caramel-flavored dark drink that is sweet but strong. 

“What happened back there?” Benny questions, pulling onto the road. He taps the steering wheel with his fingers, looking over at Frankie and then back at the dark street. He snatches Frankie’s cup and takes a sip of the coffee himself. “Wow, that is strong.”

“It’s good,” Frankie argues, feeling himself getting defensive for you. He sighs, shaking his head, “I don’t know. Anna and she have some issues, and anytime I try to get her to open up about it, she’s vague.” Frankie concedes, confiding in Benny. Benny was trustworthy for not telling Pope something that would in turn get back to you through Anna. He knew he wasn’t the only one that had noticed the tension. “She told me she hasn’t dated in a while because Anna interferes.”

Benny’s face scrunches in confusion. “What, like sabotaging it?”

“I don’t know.” Frankie shakes his head, looking out the window. He thinks back to hiding in your closet, watching your eyes glaze over with tears. “She…she said something that made her upset the other day. Something about leaving Pope.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Benny shakes his head, turning into Frankie’s driveway and shifting his body to look at him briefly. “She wasn’t like this before Anna planned on setting her up with you.”

Frankie doesn’t know what to do with that information, letting it bounce around in his head. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, shooting you a message, getting wrapped up in it to where he isn’t aware of his dazed-looking smile that Benny rolls his eyes at.

Dinner at my favorite spot on Friday?

Where’s your favorite spot?

It’s a surprise ;)

What should I wear?

He knows this shouldn’t make his heart speed up and his dick tighten in his pants; he just told you that he had a previous drug problem after you were spiraling from your friend’s comments. He knows you’re asking because you want to literally know what to wear to your date with him on Friday-but he can’t help but relive what happened over the weekend, stripping your top half and letting you feel–

“Earth to Frankie,” Benny says with a small smile, looking over at him before pulling into Frankie’s driveway. “Where are you taking her on Friday?”

Frankie sighs, shaking his head and sliding his phone back into his pocket. “I was thinking Berto’s, but I don’t want to bring her somewhere you guys will show up.” He says, giving a pointed look to Benny. “I need you to be quiet about it.”

Benny agrees easily, promising to not say a word as Frankie hops out of the vehicle, waving goodbye and stepping into his entry. When he finally gets to sit on his couch he brings his phone back out to respond to you. 

Anything you want, hermosa. Casual, just relaxed type of date

He sighs, watching the bubbles of your pending response appear, tilting his head and waiting. He thinks you’re taking much longer than usual when it pops up that you’re now calling him. He answers quickly, not caring if he sounds desperate. “Hi.”

“Will you tell me what that means?” You laugh, the sound of your car alarm beeping at you to indicate you’ve locked it. You sound different than you did in the cafe–like you’ve moved past what has happened in there.

“Tell you what what means?” He questions, smiling to himself and leaning further into the couch. 

“Hermosa? And cariño, since we are on the subject.” You say, your accent not matching even close to what the pronunciation is supposed to be. 

He chuckles, scratching at his forehead. “I thought you knew.” He muses, listening to your giggle and the sound of your door opening. “Did you just get home?”

“Yes.” You sound tired, ready to lie down at any moment. “I have to clean up for Anna to be here tomorrow.”

He hums again, looking at the clock. “Have you eaten already?” 

“No.” You yawn, a muted thump heard through the phone. “I think I’m going to lay down and maybe nap, then clean up.”

“I’ll order you food.” He says, putting you on speaker and ordering from the same place as before again. As he’s clicking confirm, you’re protesting. “Too late, it’s on its way.” 

“Ugh, I hate you.” You mumble a tiny laugh bringing a smile to Frankie’s face. “You can’t be doing that.”

“Just accept it, hermosa.” Frankie grumbles. 

“What does that mean?!” You laugh. Frankie’s smile grows wider as he lets your laughter lessen.

“It means gorgeous. Or beautiful, depending on my mood.” He shrugs to himself, feeling a blush creep onto his face. He can only picture yours, biting at your lip with anxiety but red-faced to match his. He listens to you breathe, wondering if you’re going to respond, but when you don’t and just let the silence grow between you, he sighs. “I’ll let you eat. Let me know how it goes tomorrow? With Anna?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” You say quietly. “Thank you.”

He smiles, ending the call and leaning back on the cushion of his couch. He knows he’s screwed when it comes to you. 

Playing nice with Anna is a blur that you aren’t totally present for. You’re tired, staying up all night tossing and turning in bed at the thought of her stopping by, only soothed by the memory of Frankie calling you hermosa, and has been since he first met you. After Anna had left, hugging you and kissing your cheek saying she misses hanging out with you, you feel almost guilty for not being as fun as you used to be. 

She didn’t ask about Frankie once. 

It irritates you in more ways than one that Anna chose to not even ask how you two are doing. She was adamant about being in your business before, but what has changed? Was she really wanting to just hang out with you?

You said as much in your phone call with Frankie following Anna leaving. “She was so nosy before, breaking down my bedroom door to find you.”

He laughed quietly through the phone. “Don’t worry about it, maybe she’s discovering she needs to give you space finally.”

“Don’t give her too much credit.” You grumble, taking a bite of some late-night cereal you had put together. 

Another laugh and a small sigh. “Have you figured out what you’re wearing for our first date yet?” He teased, making you smile into your spoon. 

You hum. “No, did you have a suggestion?”

You can hear him thinking through the phone, debating on what exactly to say. “I want you to be comfortable.”

Comfortable for you meant shorts and a T-shirt. You made sure it was your nicest pair of jean shorts, with small distress marks towards the hem, flattering and slightly loose so you could move easily. A plain scoop neck shirt, dark olive green that reminds you of Frankie’s comforter. This doesn’t feel like a date-worthy outfit, but you feel better about it when Frankie comes to your door wearing close to the same thing- ripped jeans and a charcoal shirt. His boots are laced up tightly, hidden by the hem of his pant legs, hat is perched on his head. 

You open the door wider for him and step away towards the hall. “I’m almost ready.” You call, stepping back in front of the mirror and adding a single layer of mascara. You hear him hum, tapping on your countertop with his fingertips. 

When you step back out, Frankie is leaning against the counter and watching you. “You’re very pretty, cariño.” He says quietly, holding his hand out for you to take. 

You do, shyly placing your fingers in his palm and feeling a jolt of adrenaline when he pulls you toward him. He kisses you lightly, smiling at you as you look up at him. “Ready?”

Nodding, he pulls you along, letting you lock your door before helping you into his passenger seat. He jogs around to the driver's side, starting the engine and then looking at you for a brief moment before placing his hand on your leg again. The drive is relatively silent, Frankie asking how the past couple of days have gone for you, but just enjoying your presence. You feel yourself relax the further along he drives, giddy about what he has planned. “So, where are we going?”

He smirks, looking at you for a moment, and then back to the road. “I thought I would tour you around the hangar, show you Big Mama.” He says quietly, pulling down a dirt road and slowing the speed of his truck. 

“Big Mama?” You question, gripping the handle of the door tightly as Frankie hits a bump quicker than expected. You jump in the seat, Frankie giving a short chuckle at your surprised gasp. 

“Just a dirt road, hermosa, don’t worry. Yes, that’s the name of the helicopter.” He nods, pulling up to a large building that just looks like a garage. You look over at Frankie to see if this is right and sigh at the smile he gives you. “This part will be quick, I just wanted to show you.”

You hop out of his truck, the sun beating down on your head, and squinting towards the metal door. “Are you sure this isn’t to kill me? Kinda far away from everything else…”

He laughs, coming around the front of his truck and sliding his arm over your shoulder. His other hand reaches into his pocket, keys jingling around his fingers. “I don’t kill my dates, sweetheart.” He says quietly, pulling you along to the door and unlocking it. 

When you step in it’s cooler, concrete flooring and metal walls of the same shade of gray surround you. There are a couple smaller planes, a row of toolboxes along the short wall farther away, and a helicopter right in front of you. Your eyes widen as Frankie steps towards it, easily opening the door and climbing in without looking back at you. 

He slides the back door open, smiling over at you in a way you haven’t seen before. He looks like a little kid, getting to play with his toys and is excited to tell you about it, dimples deep into his cheeks. “Come on in.”

You step forward, grabbing the hand he has offered and step into the opening, looking around cautiously. “What kind of helicopter is this?” You ask, looking up at him. 

“It’s a decommissioned military helicopter.” He says, letting you take a step or two around to explore. “It still works, but it lets us practice a bit in case.”

“In case of what?” You question, missing Frankie’s serious face as he thinks.

“In case we get called on again.” He mumbles, stepping toward you with a quick smile and directing you to the front. He shows you the pilot's seat and lets you act as if you are flying the helicopter. Pointing to the different buttons and levers, he tells you how it works in the simplest of terms. 

You laugh when he struggles to find the right words. “You’re not going to test me, are you?” You look over at him to see he is right next to you, cheek almost touching yours, the brush of his stubble barely touching you. Your breath catches at how close you are, his tanned skin glowing with a slight sheen of sweat from the humidity outside. You could lean a bit forward and plant your lips there yourself if you had the confidence to do it.

He turns to lock eyes with you, a smirk growing on his face into a full smile again. “Should I?” He asks, leaning forward and pausing as a silent question. When you don’t move, he leans all the way in and presses his lips to yours lightly, pulling back to see your reaction. 

You inhale sharply, flicking your eyes back and forth between his and then down to his lips, his teeth peeking out as his grin grows. You rest your hand on his chest, firm under your fingers, and give a gentle shove. “No, I’m not good at tests.” You settle on, giggling at his momentary frown. 

Another moment of staring at each other before he holds his hand out to you again. “C’mon pilot, let’s get something to eat.”

Frankie loves having you beside him. He’s standing with you, at this food truck that he frequents enough that they cleaned the picnic tables off in preparation for this date. He had mentioned it to Berto, the owner a couple days ago that he would be bringing you here and Berto’s wife, Alma took matters into her own hands. String lights cover the area where the picnic tables are shaded by trees, each table has a plastic tablecloth on it so it is easier to clean up after previous guests, and they gave him extra toppings and a tray of salsa and chips. When Pope had asked if they did chips and salsa a few weeks ago, Berto had given a firm “no.” that was now being brought into question. But Frankie only takes note of these things and stores them in the back of his head because he can’t take his eyes off you. 

You’re perusing the menu, debating between soft shell tacos and a quesadilla, and ask the owner what he prefers to make. “He will make you anything you want, cariño.” He mumbles in your ear, feeling you relax against his hand resting on the small of your back. You smell warm-he doesn’t know how else to describe it. When he had stepped into your apartment earlier he smelled it and didn’t think much of it, until he had you in the helicopter so close that he wondered if he put on a perfume specifically for him. His arm around you now, he was pretty positive you had just changed your shampoo and weren’t aware he was fixated on it. 

When you’ve both ordered and sat down, he’s sat beside you to look out on the water. Berto’s food truck was set up in a local park not far from the hangar, a small pond with a walking trail accessed by just a few yards. He can’t think of anywhere he would rather be, especially when you lean your head on his shoulder and look out, sunglasses you took from his truck perched low on your nose. “Thanks for bringing me to the hangar. Is that still…your job?” You ask, not lifting your head and making yourself comfortable. 

He sighs. “No, not at the moment. I mostly do paperwork for the company that owns that hangar in exchange for using their facility.”

You shift, lifting your head and turning towards him. “Do you want to be doing that again? Flying?”

He smiles, shaking his head. “No, not really. But having my license back is good, lets me teach classes on occasion when I’m bored.”

You seem to mull it over, debating on what to ask next. Frankie feels nerves bubble in his stomach, wanting to shut down at the possibility of prying questions. He was ready to tell you that he had gotten over a drug problem, sure–but the why and how and what happened– “Do you teach like, adults? Or like rich kids wanting to fly a helicopter?”

Your question stuns him, a sigh of relief blown out of his mouth as food is placed in front of you both; something else that Alma insisted on doing. “Typically flight students, sometimes military. Whether or not they’re rich I don’t know, but you can’t just sign up for flying lessons with me, no.”

You laugh at that, sliding the sunglasses off your face and setting them on the table as you dip a piece of your quesadilla in salsa. He waits for you to take a bite, listening to your hum of satisfaction before biting into the burrito he ordered. “This is delicious!”

He swallows, watching you again. “This is my favorite spot, they make the best food. Berto over there has all these recipes down to a science.” He watches your smile, turning to him and blushing. 

“Are you watching me eat?” You groan, pushing him with your shoulder and making him chuckle. He mumbles out a no, letting silence consume you both as you enjoy each other’s company and the food together.

When you both finish, you chat about random things. Stories from growing up, but not going into detail about home life, you favorite classes when you were in school, his first few years in the military before meeting the group he is friends with now. It is nice, just getting to know each other, and he knows he’s not the only one who thinks so based on your smile and how your fingers swirl small circles into the knee of his jeans. 

It sends a jolt of want up his leg when your finger accidentally drifts higher as you excitedly tell him about the time you flew down the street on your bike and now have a scar on your thigh. You point out the general location on his leg for demonstration, and Frankie has to grab your hand to get his heart rate to steady. You smile at him knowingly, tilting your head in question. 

Frankie clears his throat, looking out onto the water again before turning back to you and offers to walk around the pond. “Just a stroll?” He mumbles, watching your smile grow, ready to tease him.

The tease never comes though as you stand with him and walk down the short hill towards the paved path, following his lead in a counterclockwise direction. There is no one else around but a mom pushing her kid in a stroller and a runner, and the quiet makes Frankie take a deep breath. “Thanks for coming with me, today.” He mumbles, looking sheepish as you glance at him. 

“Thanks for inviting me.” You nod, falling in step beside him and looking out on the pond. “It’s really cool that you’re a pilot.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “I’ve been doing it for so long that I don’t even think of it that way.” He looks at you, down to your hand, and wants to reach for it. He holds back from it when you keep your eyes on him in question. “It was cool when I first started, and now it’s just part of my life. Lost its luster.”

You hum at him, moving your head back and forth before saying. “I can see how that could happen. Everything can get monotonous after a while, no matter how much you enjoy it.”

He nods, kicking a stray stone. “Do you enjoy your job?” He asks quietly, watching the crinkle at the corner of your eyes and the huff out of your nose. 

“Ah, no. I mean, it’s easy, and lots of free coffee is a bonus. But…it’s not…” You trail off, shrugging. “It’s paying the bills while I work on it.”

He nods, prying a little further. “And what are you working on?” 

Your eyes shine brightly at him, stopping in the pathway and turning your whole body. You’ve made it halfway around the pond, trees shading the pathway with benches and a small playground. “I like to write. I don’t think I’ll go very far with it, but…maybe.”

He smiles, blushing as he says, “I saw you had a poetry book in your room.” 

You laugh, sitting on the bench and waiting for him to do the same. “Yeah, I’m trying to see if poetry is more of my speed.” You sigh, turning to him again. “I have so many ideas and they aren’t lengthy enough to write a story so I thought I should try something else and see if that helps kinda clear my mind–” You sigh, looking down at your fingers and picking at your nails. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

Frankie can’t help himself when he slides closer to you, his jeans catching on the worn-out wood of the bench before grabbing your hand to stop you. He doesn’t say anything as he leans in, pressing his lips to your cheek, the corner of your mouth, and then finally your lips. He can’t think about anything else besides your lips against his, how they are so soft and willing, how you smell of warm vanilla and spice– “Do you…” He doesn’t know why he pulled away, his thoughts all over the place and his body struggling to catch up. “Do you want to come to my place? Watch a movie?”

Your nod is all the reassurance he needs to know he’s not out of his depths. 

Being with Frankie today was a whirlwind of surprises. The helicopter tour, the favorite spot to eat that you noticed he tried to be nonchalant about but knew he would have been crushed if you didn’t like it. The walk around the pond, all the way to holding your hand while he drove quickly back to his apartment.

When he kissed you it felt like he couldn’t help himself; that his attraction for you was the same as how you felt about him, and that it was bound to happen. He asked in the truck about more of your poetry, and if you thought you would stick with it after you said it hadn’t been that long of you trying, and your heart soared at his interest. 

No other guy you had ever been with had been really all that interested in your interests. Not that they had to, but the effort of asking was new for you. 

Frankie had led you into his apartment, smiling at you as you passed him through the doorway. He was quick to shut the door and wrap his arm around you, making you do a quick turn around to see what he was doing and launch into a kiss. Your fingers were quick to shove up into his hair, curls wrapping around them so easily, his hat falling somewhere on the floor as he led you backward. 

God, it was so easy.

Easy to fall back on his comforter, bouncing with a giggle as he laughed with you. Easy to lean back into another kiss as he quietly asked “Is this okay?” before unbuttoning your shorts and pulling them down your legs. The way he looked up at you, wide brown eyes blown out with a need you couldn’t place, made your spine tingle with want of your own. It was easy to reach for his pants, shoving down his jeans and boxers in one swoop and letting his hardened length slap against his lower stomach. 

It was easy to lean forward and lick up the shaft to the head, watching his hands clench in surprise. “Fuck, sweetheart–” He groaned, pulling at your shirt to lift it off of you. 

You pulled away long enough to help him, yanking him to kneel on the bed beside you. As you reattached your lips to his weeping head, a pearl of precome touching your tongue and making you sigh in delight, he lifted his own shirt off of him and exposed his bare chest, flushed with adrenaline. 

His hair was wild from removing his shirt in haste, jaw slacks as he watched your mouth over him, heaving heavily. You thought you could write poetry about this, maybe. 

“C’mere.” He huffed, pulling you off of him to lay flat on his bed. Frankie adjusts himself to lay next to you, turning on his side and chuckling. “If you keep your mouth on me, I don’t think I’ll last.”

You shrug, bringing a finger from the center of his chest down to his belly button. “I owe you for last time.” You smile, letting your eyes trail down to the tuft of hair below his belly.

Frankie pauses, eyebrows furrowing as his own hand glides down your torso. “You don’t owe me anything.” He grumbles, swirling his fingers lower to your clit and listening to you sigh. He’s tensed up, shaking his head. “Fuck–you’re so fucking pretty. Do you understand me?” He asks, dipping his fingers lower and pressing two into your entrance. “You don’t owe me anything, okay?”

When you don’t answer, Frankie pulls out his fingers, trailing them lightly down your thighs. You whine at the feeling, sticky and wet with your own arousal. “Frankie–”

“Tell me you understand.” He says lowly. He kisses your temple briefly, fingers still ghosting over your skin. “Say you don’t owe me anything, hermosa.”

He’s brought his fingers back to your center, slowly shoving his fingers into you again, curling them against that spot you struggle to find yourself, pulling them out and circling your clit. Over, and over he does this, mouth open and breathing heavily over the side of your face. “I d-don’t–” You reach for his arm, nails digging into his skin but he doesn’t let up. “Don’t owe y-you anything.” 

Frankie gives a cat-like smile, kissing your cheek and groaning. “Good girl, that’s it.” He pulls his fingers away from you, your hips bucking up to follow them. “Let me taste you, huh?” 

Dazed, you watch him move between your legs, his hands sliding up your thighs and spreading them apart. He groans again, leaning down to kiss the junction between your thigh and center. “I’ll come once, and you can come twice.” He mumbles, glancing up at you and smiling when your eyes widen. “Fair?”

You think about arguing with him–you really do. But the way he leans down and lets his tongue drag against your skin, leaving a blazing trail of want behind, you can’t think about why you would argue in the first place. 

He does the same that he had done with his fingers, his tongue trails down to your entrance, giving a gentle push inside you before retreating and sliding up to your clit. He circles it, lips wrapping around to provide some suction that makes you throw your head back with a moan. 

Frankie’s tongue is talented, and you weren’t really prepared for that. He groans at the feeling of your hands tangling in his hair, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you still. He pulls away enough to mumble out “You taste so sweet.” before diving back in, causing you to arch up into his mouth. His hand slides up your stomach to your chest, covering your breasts and giving a light tug to each nipple, and it is just about your tipping point. 

“Please, Frankie.” You whine, covering his hands with yours to keep him there, moving your hips with his tongue to chase the feeling he is providing. When you fall over the edge, shutting your eyes and chanting his name, you feel his moan vibrate through your center. 

When you come down, Frankie pulls away with a deep breath and a smile. “Alright?” He asks, sitting up and leaning over you, letting his lips trail over one nipple to see you shiver. The wetness from your center leaves a trail over your chest, cool in the air as he moves across your skin.

You breathe heavily, nodding your head at him as he looks up to you for confirmation. “Fuck, that was–” You cut yourself off, not able to figure out what it was beyond good. So good that you’re pretty sure you blacked out for a second. 

Frankie nips at your collarbone, smiling into your skin with a sigh. He pushes his hips forward, the head of his cock brushing against your clit making you shiver. “Think you can give me another one?” He asks, breathing against your ear as his hips rut against yours again. 

You give a faint “Yes,” as he leans over to his nightstand, pulling out a foil pack and ripping it open with his teeth. He leans back to slide it on, looking at you with hooded eyes and red cheeks. When he leans back down, he presses his lips to yours, moaning at the feeling of you against him. He rests his forehead against yours, positioning himself to push into you, sliding in slowly. His eyes are on you, your face, watching for a reaction. He props himself up with his hands on either side of your head, letting you look down at his hips, his dick. You bite at your bottom lip, not realizing that it drove Frankie crazy until he took his thumb to pull it from your mouth, holding your face in his hand. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He groans out, fitting his hips flush against yours to just stay there, to feel you. “How are you this fucking tight for me, baby?”

You moan, moving your hips up to push against his. “Please, Frankie.”

He pulls away, holding you steady as he watches before sliding to the hilt into you again, setting a pace that is slow but powerful. You jolt across the sheets, his hand tightening at your jaw to try and keep you still, but he has to reach up to the headboard to support himself at just how forceful he is being. He moans your name, eyes closing in bliss at how you feel wrapped around him. “God, fuck–you’re so fucking good for me.” 

You reach your hand down to your clit, circling it as he continues to push into you, his eyes trailing down your form to your hand and watches you. The rise to this orgasm is much quicker, feeling your chest heat as you begin to breathe heavier than before. You reach your other hand up to Frankie’s shoulder, digging into the taunt muscle. “Frankie–”

“It’s okay, that’s it.” He mumbles, leaning his forehead on yours again. “Be a good girl for me? Come all over my cock baby.”

He continues to quietly encourage you, your nails digging in at the feeling of your orgasm again, eyes shutting in pleasure. It feels like your ears are ringing, a muffled sound of Frankie’s labored breaths fucking you through it, chasing his own high. 

“I’m so fucking close.” He breathes, leaning up and changing his position. He sits straight, hands securing onto the dip in your hip to pull you towards him. His jaw is tight, teeth gritting against each other as he tries to hold on just a bit longer, practically growling out at the feeling. When he comes his jaw drops, watching your centers connect together over and over and the smallest whimper escapes his mouth at the sight of your center squeezing his. 

You’re both breathing heavily, watching him through sleepy eyes as he pulls out, removing the condom and tying it off with skilled fingers. He steps out of the room and across the hall to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth and a small smile. He looks a little embarrassed, bringing the cloth down to your chest where he kissed you after eating you out, trailing down to your center and gently wiping. You bring your hand down with his, stopping him. “I didn’t mean to bring you to my bed first,” Frankie admits, resting his other hand on your leg with a small chuckle. 

You smile, pushing your hair out of your face and sitting up. “We can still watch a movie if you want to.” 

Frankie tosses the rag into the laundry basket he has by the closet, kneeling on the bed again so that you’re at eye level with his neck as you sit, his hands coming around the base of your head and petting your hair back. “Of course I want to.” He says quietly, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Spend as long as possible with you if I can.”

You smile at him, adjusting to bring your feet to the edge of the bed and slide off. When you stand you stretch, unknowingly putting on a show for Frankie as you lean down to find your underwear, sliding it up your legs. He goes for your shirt, pulling it out of your reach, grabbing his own, and offering it to you. You furrow your brow, placing your hand on your hips and asking the silent question of why. “I like seeing you in mine.” He blushes, pulling you toward him when you try to grab the shirt out of his grasp. 

You laugh, leaning down to kiss him again. “Fine by me.” You conceded, letting him help you put on his shirt, it brushes the underside of your ass and covers the tops of your things. His fingers reach forward to your hip and slide down to your leg where you mentioned you had a scar. He finds it quickly, giving it a light circle with his thumb before he pulls back and examines it. 

Your heart flutters at the sentiment-that he listened, he remembered, he sought it out. You’re lost in your own thoughts when he looks back up to you, a smirk growing on his face. “Should we find another Heath Ledger movie to watch?” He asks, watching you. 

You smile at him, nodding your head. “Yeah, maybe.” 

[pedrostylez]

Something Else- pt. 3

pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

chapter summary: Anna is checking up on you and you don’t know how to move past your history with her. Frankie wants to get to know you more.

rating: 18+ (no minors please) Explicit

word count: 3.3k

warnings etc: Frankie w/o a daughter, triple frontier movie plot has happened but is not mentioned as of yet, Fingering, dirty talk, breast play, eating, mentions of missing meals, jealousy, friendship dynamics, fluff, pet names, friendships, jealousy, competition, drinking, 2nd person pov, no use of y/n

A/N: Another Frankie Friday, another part of Something Else. I've gone ahead and bumped up to explicit! Please remember that not every chapter will be as such, but the majority will be from this point. Frankie is just….so giving. Please support by commenting, sending me thoughts, and reblogging. I appreciate every single one of you who reads this!

Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11 @jake-g-lockley, @theanothersherlockian, @anoverwhelmingdin, @guelyury, @harriedandharassed, @wintersquirrel

You take a deep breath and then wait just a moment, unlocking the door and opening it to Anna standing there with a plate of cookies. Of course, she brought cookies. “Uh, hi.”

“Hey!” She says sweetly, looking around your shoulder as best as she can before looking back at you. “I wanted to check on you.”

You shuffle over to block your door more, listening to see if Frankie is staying quiet-you didn’t tell him he had to be but… “I’m okay. Just…a few more minutes before my shift starts.”

Your lying ability must have improved because Anna looks down at your clothes and assumes that you are dressed for your shift. “I brought your favorite cookies. I thought we could eat some, maybe pour some wine and watch a movie! But if you really have to go to work–”

“I do.” You say quickly, leaning against the doorway and then sighing. You feel bad now, watching her face fall. “I’m sorry, Anna. We can hang out this week, I promise. I’ve just picked up a few extra shifts.” You move out of the way for her to set the cookies on your counter, letting her in for just a minute won’t hurt. 

“It’s okay. I understand.” She sighs, smiling at you. “Are you and Frankie doing okay? I asked him about you the other day, but he didn’t really say anything.”

You’re frozen for a minute, looking past her just enough to see his shoes next to your coffee table, his hat sitting on the couch haphazardly. “I’ve not really talked to him since I picked up those shifts.”

“Not even texted?” She questions, shaking her head. “Babe! You gotta get back out there, and he’s so sweet, he’s perfect for you!”

You nod, clenching your jaw to hold back the “please get out” that wants to bubble over your lips. “We just haven’t had a chance to talk.” You amend, nodding at her briefly as she mulls it over in her brain.

Frankie thinks about listening to you try to get Anna to go away, but his discipline is weak as he sees your bed is unmade, and the papers you have covering your desk are too enticing. He steps towards your desk, glancing over what looks to be notes, picking up the textbook in question to read the front. 

“Preface to Lyrical Ballads.” He says quietly, shrugging to himself before turning back to the page you had it open to. He read to himself “Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.” before furrowing his brow and setting the textbook back down. Glancing at all of the papers, they were drafts of your own poetry, chicken scratch and highlighted and crossed out. 

He sits gingerly on your bed, but shoots back up when he hears “Is he fucking here?” screeched out by what he assumes is Anna. He whips his head around, finding not many hiding spaces. Your bedframe is low to the ground, with stuff under the bed, and he looks to the bi-fold door, unsure of whether or not he should hide in your closet. 

“No! It’s just his stuff–” He hears you try to cover, footsteps stepping around each other, a quick laugh and mumbling excitedly before he hears a bang on the door. 

He thought he was caught when he heard, “Wait Anna please, my bedroom is a mess. You know I get in those moods–”

“Have you been eating?” Anna asks hushed, clear through the door as Frankie slinks over to the closet and squeezes his shoulders past the bifold doors. He gets past your jacket and shuts the door a bit more, breathing as slowly as he can. 

“Yes! I’ve had a bunch of snacks.” You groan out. Frankie can hear your frustration, can hear you crossing your arms defensively. 

“What, like popcorn and candy?” Anna snarks, a dull thud can be heard. Frankie doesn’t know if it's you leaning against the wall or Anna. 

“Well…maybe but–”

“Frankie!” Anna yells, making him freeze. “Frankie! You need to order takeout! I won’t leave until you respond!”

“Anna, he’s not there–”

“So if I open this door he won’t be there?” Anna says, slamming open the door and pausing, looking around the room. Frankie can see her from the slats in the single closed door of the closet, hoping that Anna doesn’t think to look through his hiding spot. 

You’re looking around too–wide eyed and embarrassed before glancing at the closet. He swears you’ve made eye contact with him through the slats, but you quickly redirect the conversation. “Anna, really. I have to go to work.” You sigh, grabbing her shoulder. “Will you walk with me to my car?”

Anna rubs her lips together before turning around and stomping out of the room. “Can we at least hang out in a couple days? I want you to tell me if I should leave Santi or not for him!”

That’s when Frankie sees it. 

How your face gets beet red, eyes immediately glassy. It’s like you’ve forgotten that Frankie is hiding in your closet and he wants to step out to see if you’re okay but you whip around and follow after her. You slam the bedroom door behind you, leaving him in silence as he waits for any other indication that Anna is still there. 

He creeps out of the closet, hearing your front door shut and a vibration in his pocket. 

Give me 10 minutes. 

He steps out, moving into the kitchen and standing there awkwardly looking at the plate of cookies Anna has left. “I don’t date much so it’s not like she can interfere…” swirls in his head, wondering if that is related to your reaction and what Anna said. 

You’re livid. 

Of course the minute that Anna is sure Frankie isn’t there, she has to say that. Frankie probably thought it was a joke, but you knew better. How do you broach that subject with your best friend? Hey, I don’t like it when you say things like wanting to leave your boyfriend for someone you think I’m seeing. Why? Oh, maybe because of that one time that you literally did? Or the other time…

You know she’s not joking when she says something like that. And it makes your blood boil. 

Driving around the block to pretend you were going to work was your only way to calm down your thoughts when it came to this; you had never told Anna to stop making those types of comments. You told her it was fine when she slept with Brad, and that was your fault. 

You haven’t told her otherwise. You can’t. 

Driving back into your parking spot, you sat there for a moment before climbing out of the car, slamming the door a little harder than you needed to. You didn’t even grab your purse to fake go to work, and you started to wonder if Anna even believed you–

Stepping into your apartment, Frankie is getting off his own phone, turning to you with a smile. “Hey, I ordered some Indian food. I saw the menu and figured you liked it?” He questions, holding up the takeout menu and stepping towards you before leaning against your counter.

You nod, blush creeping back up your cheeks. “You didn’t have to.”

Frankie gives you a small smile, leaning his hands back. “Anna sounded adamant about making sure you eat.” He pauses, giving you a chance to breathe before continuing. “Have you had a whole meal this weekend?”

Your silence is answer enough, kicking off your shoes and noticing his own have been moved to be beside the door. “You can pick the next movie if you’re sticking around.” You mumble, going to step around him. His hand reaches out, grabbing for your wrist again and pulling you to a stop. 

Frankie turns to you, smile still on his face. “Can I kiss you again?” He asks quietly, brushing his fingers over your wrist in small circles before dragging them up your arms. “We were interrupted before.”

Frankie’s ability to distract you from you own thoughts is a talent you wonder if he is conscious of. By the time you’re nodding, Frankie’s hand has climbed up your arm and anchored on the back of your head, guiding you forward to press his lips to yours. He’s caught you off guard and completely relaxed you in a matter of minutes, focusing your thoughts on one thing only, and it has you confused. But, you’re unable to pull away when your eyelashes flutter closed when he sighs against your mouth. 

Frankie let’s out a groan before pulling away, half lidded and looking down at you. “Let’s not get too carried away before food shows up?” He asks, kissing your cheek when you nod back at him. 

“Thank you, for ordering food.” You say quietly, pulling away from him and going back over to the couch. 

Frankie looks hesitant for a moment, stepping toward your living room but remains standing. “Is that normal for you?”

You know he’s referring to you skipping meals, shaking your head quickly.” No, no I just…sometimes I kinda get in this slump.” You reach for one of the blankets to cover your legs so that you don’t have to look at him. “And so it just happens that I am watching TV for too long, or too focused and I forget. So I eat lots of junk food. Not really good for me.”

Frankie’s only response is a hum, watching you from the corner of his eye rearrange the blanket over and over until you’re satisfied. There’s a knock on your door that he immediately goes for, grabbing food and giving the delivery guy a tip before shutting it behind him with his foot. “Well I got chicken tikka masala, naan and rice.” He mumbles, sitting down next to you and pulling out each container; a clear separation of food that was meant to feed the two of you. He turns to you with his eyebrows lowered. “Is this okay?”

You let out a chuckle, reaching forward and taking one of the to-go boxes. “Pick the movie, Frankie.”

Frankie waits for you to finish your food before he finishes his, watching you carefully from his peripheral. He picked out a different movie, The Equalizer, which he knew you weren’t interested in. He wasn’t interested in it either. 

He hoped to either get you talking, or to get you back under him, moaning his name and whining for him. 

He cleared his throat when he set his fork down. “Do you..want to talk about Anna earlier?”

He sees you squint your eyes, breathing lightly out of your nose before turning to him. “What about her?”

His arms are spread wide over the back of your couch, your legs draped across his lap at some point after you finished your food and before he finished his. Your arms are crossing over your stomach, head on the arm rest and your hair fallen out of your face. He takes a deep breath before saying, “She upset you earlier, and I…I want to know what to do about it.”

You sigh heavily, rolling your head back towards the screen. “We’re best friends.” You pause, thinking over what exactly to say to him. “We’ve been through a lot together and I don’t want to lose her.” He nods, waiting for more. He feels like he could wait all day, all night until you tell him what you want from him. “She always gets what she wants.”

He attempts to wait again, but when it’s clear you’ve finished your sentence, he brings his hand down to your knee and gives you a gentle squeeze. “And what do you not like about that, sweetheart?” It feels weird in the pit of his stomach to say it that way, but he doesn’t know how else to. If you’re convinced Anna always gets her way, then who is he to tell you otherwise?

He sees your eyes get glassy, his hands subconsciously squeezing tighter on your leg before rubbing back and forth. “If she decides she wants what I have, then she will take it.” You say just above a whisper, reaching up to wipe at your eyes. 

If he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t understand what you mean. His hands continue to rub above your knee, squeezing affectionately as he watches you with a furrowed brow. “What do you have that she wants?”

He doesn’t expect you to laugh, but when you do it's sad, teary. “Nothing at the moment.” You concede, turning back to face him. You sigh again and shake your head. “Just, forget it. I’ll get over it.” You move your legs off his lap, wiping at your eyes and heading towards your hallway to the bathroom. 

He doesn’t like you brushing it off like that, his eyebrows lifting up to his hairline and back down. Without much thought he follows you, wanting to bring the attention away from you being sad. He wants to distract you.

He’s suddenly behind you, wrapping his hand around your shoulder to spin you around, giving you a slight push against the wall. Frankie is quick to wrap his hand up in your hair, holding your head steady as he connects his lips with yours. 

Frankie knows he doesn’t have to understand. But his intention to make you feel good-feel better, still stands. He’s quick to ask permission with his tongue, feeling you breathe out and relax against him, your hands reaching up into his hair and giving it a tug. 

He’s quick to pull away, kissing the crook of your jaw and down your neck, pushing your shirt up again like he had before Anna arrived. “Stay still for me.” He says, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head. You smile as you struggle to get your hands out of the sleeves, tossing it to the side when he finally has it off of you. “Can I touch you?” He grits, holding himself away from you, one hand leaning against the wall behind you, the other running his thumb under your eyes and over your cheekbones. 

You nod quickly, holding on to his forearm like you need support. He lifts his hand and runs his knuckles down your neck, letting you lift your head to allow him more access. He brushes them over the swell of your breast, dipping to the valley between them and to your belly button. He watches you break out in a shiver, leaning into his hand that is still holding your face. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, you know that?” He says huskily, brushing his thumb back up to your bra and moving the straps down your arms. The cups fall slightly, letting him see more of you. His eyes glance up to yours, blown out and wild with need. He’s gentle as he releases his hold on your cheek, slipping it behind you to undo your bra, kissing at your collarbone. He nips at the skin, bending down to wrap his lips around one pert nipple and hears you inhale in shock. 

Your fingers wrap around the curls of his hair, holding him close to you. “Please, Frankie.” You whine, pushing your hips towards him. 

He groans around you, releasing you with a pop before moving over to the other. “What do you want, baby?” He moans, flicking his tongue over your other breast. Your breath hitches, and his eyes meet yours again just as you’re biting at your lip, red and swollen. 

“More.” Is all you can get out, clutching on to him tighter. Frankie lets his fingers trail down to your jeans, lowering the zipper and undoing the button before standing up straight again. 

Your head thumps against the wall as he doesn’t wait to pull your pants off, only pushing his fingers into your underwear and pressing the pad of his middle finger against your slit. “So wet.” He breathes, sliding his finger up and down from your entrance to your clit before giving light circles around you. “So perfect like this.”

Your jaw goes slack at the sensation, eyes closing and holding on to his shoulder like your life depends on it. He leans forward and kisses at the corner of your mouth, licking at your bottom lip with a small smile. “Think you can come like this for me?”

You’re quick to nod, frantically clutching at his shirt. “Yes, yes, please–Frankie–”

He shushes you, moving his finger faster over your clit before dipping down to your entrance and pushing in slowly. “You’re okay baby, just enjoy it. Want you to feel good.” He mumbles out, speeding up his movements, curling his finger while pushed inside you. He feels the slight shake of your legs when he does this, licking a stripe up your neck to whisper in your ear. “So fucking hot like this, aren’t you? Do you want to come?”

You whine out a small “yes”, curling forward to press your forehead against his shoulder. He feels you shudder, moaning out his name like a chant as your walls clench around his finger, tightening and squeezing around him. 

When you finish, breathing heavily and leaning away from him, he is quick to cover your mouth with his, biting at your lip and slowly removing his hand from your pants. He pulls away, breathing just as heavily as you. “Did that feel good?”

You don’t answer immediately, hands unsure where to go until they settle at the button of his pants. He meets your grip, holding you tight to communicate that it isn’t needed. “What about you?” You ask quietly, looking down to see the clear strain in his pants pressing against his zipper. 

He shakes his head, pulling your hands away. “Go out with me.” He states, watching your eyes flick back up to his. 

You furrow your brow, a small smile creeping up your face. “What? Frankie–”

“Just you and me.” He says, leaning heavily against you, his forehead resting on yours. “You tell me when.”

You laugh, resting a hand against his chest before looking down at yourself. “Can I wear a shirt?”

Frankie feels the blood rush up to his head, a blush on his cheeks as he laughs with you. “If you insist, hermosa.”

When Frankie leaves, hat in his hands and boots untied, he is adamant about you telling him when he can take you out. He wants no pressure from the guys or from Anna, to just “get to know each other” and it makes you swoon at the thought of spending time with him again, like you had today. 

You’re shoving a cookie that Anna had left for you to eat into his hand, telling him its partial payment for him buying the takeout to feed you. He scoffs, taking a bite before pulling you towards him and pecking your mouth with his. “Text me, cariño.” 

“Okay.” You say quietly, waiting to shut the door before he is out of sight down the sidewalk to his truck. 

Shutting it behind you, you take a deep breath, wondering what exactly happened today. Picking your phone up off the counter, you read the text messages you missed. 

Anna: Let me know what time this week we can hang :) 

Anna: Santi told me that Will and Benny were out drinking with Frankie, if you wanted to let him know where his stuff was ;)

You scoff, rolling your eyes setting your phone back down, and grabbing one of the cookies. As you take another bite, you look up to your coffee table to see Frankie’s shirt still sitting there, rolled up like he was going to take it with him but forgot it. Your phone vibrates again. 

Frankie: What about Friday night?

You smile to yourself, typing out a message back. 

You: Sounds like a date :) 

[pedrostylez]

Something Else: The Breakup Drabble

pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

summary: Santiago's ego is so bruised that he can't see what is right in front of him-a relationship that needs to end so that he can refocus

rating: 18+ (no minors please) Explicit

word count: 2.3k

warnings etc: drinking, ptsd, arguing, fighting, friend dynamics

A/N: NOBODY PANIC it's just Anna and Santi. (I say just but I mean, kinda sad) This is longer than what I would consider a drabble, but we need just a bit more context for Anna and Santiago's realtionship, and what exactly ended it...don't we? Once again, thank you to Hemmy @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for beta reading, spreadsheet-ing, and being extremely helpful. As I said previously there is one last part to this that I am currently working on, as with all my other wips.

I am a slut for respectful comments, thoughts, and questions, so feel free to send those to me either privately or on ask. Please support all fanfic writers by liking, reblogging, and interacting. Thank you! 

Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11 @jake-g-lockley, @theanothersherlockian, @anoverwhelmingdin, @guelyury, @harriedandharassed, @wintersquirrel @scarletthefierce @paleidiot @brittmb115 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @bluetattoos

After The Confrontation

Anna walked to Santi’s apartment after having lunch with you, more calm. You had spoken about what bothered you, and she was going to try to make a change.  Santiago had let her in happily, asking how lunch was with you as he sat with Anna close to him. 

“It was okay. We hashed it out.” Anna said quietly, smiling at him. “Just some misunderstandings and mistakes.”

Santi hums. “What mistake did you make?” He questions, watching Anna’s head turn to his sharply. 

Anna shakes her head. “You just…assume I made the mistake? Not her?” She scoffs, pulling herself away from him. “It doesn’t concern you. I handled it.” She can hear herself getting defensive; too harsh and combative. 

Santi reels back, pulling his hand away from her shoulder.  He hadn’t woken up on the right side of the bed, still stressed from Frankie’s reaction to the opportunity for a trip. That stress comes lashing out against Anna. “Doesn’t concern me? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Anna’s lip raises in a snarl, forgetting herself. “It means it has nothing to do with you.” She bolts upright, steering herself in the direction of his front door. She was not spending the night at his place as far as she was concerned, it doesn’t matter that she had just arrived. 

As she’s slipping on her shoes she hears Santi stand, huffing out a breath to get her to stop. He grabs her shoulder, holding her firm. “What is going on? You say she’s your best friend but Benny said she looked uncomfortable the other day when you spoke to her and Frankie. What’s that about? Did that get solved?”

Santiago doesn’t want to mention how Benny had sat in his passenger seat a few nights ago and mentioned Anna being too forward. 

He doesn’t want to mention that he saw the shift in Frankie, how he stiffened whenever Anna stepped closer to him. How he avoided double dates, and played it off that he was too busy. How group outings seemed to dwindle to nothing after the coffee shop incident. 

He thinks it's all in his head. 

He swears he is just insecure, like a teenager all over again. That this is just because Frankie is upset with him over the proposal of a new mission. 

Anna scoffs, shaking off Santiago. “Tell Benny to mind his fucking business.” She steps around him, shoving her shoulder with his. “I’m going home. Don’t follow me.”

Surprisingly, he didn’t. 

1 Month Later-Girls Night

Santiago feels the weight of the world on his shoulders everytime he sees Frankie. It’s a crushing weight, that he swears is what led to him letting down his friends-his family. They are his family, and he feels his heart clench at how he carelessly suggested going to retrieve the rest of the money again; how he didn’t have a real plan. No wonder Frankie had been distancing himself from Santiago; he wasn’t the leader anymore. 

It’s only been a month and Frankie has laid it out with all possible scenarios. What is the best way to get down there, how to cover their tracks, how to plan for worst case scenarios. He was initially impressed with how Frankie took the reins of the operation and forced them all to sit down and truly think about it. Frankie always started a meeting with a single question: how badly do we want this? He would lead the discussion, still quiet and listening, but more willing to tell Will “no”, or letting Benny get his frustration out before reeling him back in. 

Now, Santiago felt useless. He had never been able to do those things for them.

A month ago he thought he was at his lowest, feeling like his ego was bruised, his family was telling him he wasn’t a good leader, and his girlfriend was upset with him. He had apologized to Anna, calling her, showing up on her doorstep after she left his place, and asking her to forgive his blow-up. That he was stressed about Frankie, and he never meant to take it out on her. That he didn’t know why Benny had mentioned anything to him and he didn’t know why he brought it up.

It was a blessing in his eyes that she accepted the apology and moved on. His friendships and his ability to keep his thoughts straight and rational for planning this mission only seemed to get worse.  

Another meeting and Frankie’s teasing, shoving his shoulder to crash the girls' night that you and Anna had planned a few weeks ago. “They won’t really mind, Pope.”

“Anna will.” Santi sighs, starting the engine of his truck. He notices Frankie’s small smile creeping on his face. 

“Someone needs to take their drunk asses home.” Frankie amends, tapping the half-rolled-down window before loping over to his own truck. 

Silently, Santiago wanted to see how you and Anna were interacting now that you had talked out your issues. Something he still wasn’t confident wouldn’t cause a fight if he asked Anna about.

When he and Frankie pulled up to the bar in question, carefully looking around at those in attendance, Santi’s eyes locked on the back of Anna’s head. She swayed with you, slightly shorter than your frame but her head turned away from you as she watched the crowd. 

You looked like you were having fun-as if you had more to drink than usual. Santi went to bump Frankie’s shoulder to tell him where you were, but when he turned Frankie was already making his way through the crowd. 

Santi shook his head, smiling at how love-sick Frankie clearly was. Frankie had only had that look one other time, but never enough to bump shoulders with a crowd of people to get closer. He orders a single shot, assuming Anna would want another before he turns back to watch. 

Frankie’s approach is gentle, a hand around your waist before dipping his head to the side. He seems stiff, Anna’s arm that was draped over your shoulder sliding off as she looks at him. A question, Santi assumes, before Anna’s shoulders slump, turning around to face Santi. 

You’re oblivious, turning around in Frankie’s arms as he relaxes, eyes flicking up to Santi to nod once before entertaining you a bit longer on the dance floor. Santi’s eyes trail back to Anna, whose face is held tight. 

“I told you this was girl’s night.” She yells over the music, hand on her hip. 

Santi nods. “I know, I told him. Couldn’t keep him away.” He looks over to the bar where the bartender left the alcohol he ordered. “I got you another shot.”

Anna visibly sighs, looking at him and at the shot glass. “I wasn’t drinking tonight; wanted her to have fun.”

It surprises him how Anna had planned it out to be sober so that they could get home without their help. “Well, I’ll take you home…If you want.”

Anna doesn’t respond, leaning against the bar and watching you and Frankie. Santiago raises his eyes to do the same, watching how Frankie’s arm slides over your shoulder to herd you in their direction. 

Santiago watches Frankie speak to you without saying anything; how his eyes trail over him and Anna briefly before raising his eyebrows at you. He wants to scoff at how ridiculous it feels that you and Frankie have this silent conversation about him and Anna until Anna clasps her fingers around the shot glass and downs it. 

“Alright over here?” Frankie asks, resting his hand on your shoulder, squeezing lovingly.

“Yeah, man,” Santiago calls, looking over to Anna who is watching the interaction too. He sees how her gaze softens at their intimacy; how Frankie’s eyes flit between Anna and you, swallowing stiffly.

“Are you all set?” Anna asks, looking only at you.

You nod, pushing away from Frankie. “Let’s go to the bathroom, and then I’ll have Fishy take me home.” 

Santiago feels something like jealousy stirring in his stomach, but jealousy of what he is unsure of. “She didn’t want me to come.”

Frankie nods, shrugging. “We’re going to head out. Give you two some space to talk.”

Santiago hears him, but he isn’t sure what he means by “space”. He still doesn’t know what that means when he helps Anna into his truck, giving a small wave to your happy smile and Frankie’s nod. And now Anna is silent in the truck ride home not looking at Santiago if she can at all help it. 

He feels this spiral of insecurity that he has been struggling with since Frankie first said that they needed a real plan if they were to go again, and he wants to explode. “Bebita–”

“Please, don’t.” She cuts him off. 

Santi sighs, looking over at her and reaching for her hand. It suddenly clicks into place in his mind what he needs to do. Whether Frankie meant it this way or not, he needs to be focusing on one thing before they go on this trip. He doesn’t think it can be her. “We need to talk.”

He watches her eyes flash in anger before reeling herself in. She wants to explode too. “What do you want to talk about?”

Santiago sighs, looking away for a moment before building up the courage to say it. “I think we need to take a break.”

She stares at him for a long while, panic rising in his stomach that maybe he made a mistake. Maybe this wasn’t the right thing to say; that he needs her to support him through this, that he can go back to what they were before. They were fun, they were in love as far as he was concerned. He continues to spiral until she asks if this is about Frankie and you. 

Santiago reels back, not expecting the question. “Why would this be about them?”

Anna’s eye roll puts him on guard. “I assume she told Frankie about our inside joke that made her uncomfortable and he came to you to whisper it in your ear? Is that why you’ve been acting so strange?”

Santiago is frozen in place, fumbling over words as she continues. “It was just a joke. We’ve been saying it since like, freshman year of high school. We’ve never actually switched boyfriends, and Brad was just some douche–”

“Stop.” Santiago cuts her off, squeezing at the steering wheel. Anna’s eyes flick to his, waiting for him to speak more. He swallows roughly, feeling derailed from his initial anxiety. His anger is starting to bubble over. “I thought you two made up.”

Anna takes a deep breath and looks at him. When she begins to speak, it’s like she can’t stop. No room for him to interject, just her spilling out all of the information of your confrontation, what you said, what she said. 

He doesn’t know how he got here, originally upset that he needed to break things off with her because of his own insecurities, and his inability to focus on fixing his friendships and keeping them safe and focus on his relationship with her. Now he’s fuming at how he missed all the signs. 

“Let me get this straight.” Santi scoffs, turning his full body towards her. “You’ve been making this joke, since you were 13, that you casually switch boyfriends? And you’re still doing it at almost fucking 30? And you didn’t think she would be upset that you were doing that…in front of him?”

Anna pulls so far back away from him that her head bumps the window. “I didn’t know he was in the closet hiding!”

“She felt like she had to hide Frankie from you.” He states, shaking his head at her when she furrows her brow. “I can’t believe you’ve been acting like that–”

“Why are you acting like this?” She screeches, holding her hands wide. “It’s been handled. I’m working on it. We talked–”

“She’s never going to correct you, Anna.” He sighs. “She’s too timid. She loves you and wants to see you happy, and it took…two years for her to even say she was uncomfortable with a joke? Her previous boyfriend was in love with you and told her as much when he was with her? You should have been groveling at her feet.” He laughs, shaking his head. 

Her anger bubbles out of her throat. “Shut up, Santi!”

He gives her a pointed look, talking slowly to her. He thinks he could black out this whole moment if he doesn’t focus on her. “I shouldn’t have apologized for pointing out what Benny saw. I should have believed him and not given you a pass. I fucking saw it too-how she dismissed us to close up the coffee shop. I should have known. God-Frankie kept tensing up around you and I was fucking blind.” He confirms, shaking his head. “You should have known. I can’t believe you. I don’t like anything you’ve told me, and I don’t even know if it’s the full truth.”

“I was in a bad place that night!” Anna exclaims, tears threatening to spill. “Mom had just told me to stop whoring around, and I can’t tell her that because she fucking idolizes my mom–”

“That’s not an excuse to sleep with someone she literally had sex with the night before.” Santi sighs, now reserved about the situation. “I wasn’t planning on breaking up with you over this, but if that’s what it’s come to, then so be it.”

Anna scoffs. “You’re not breaking up with me because of this. You’re doing it because your ego is bruised. Because Frankie is the one in charge and you can’t fucking stand it. You’re just using this as a fucking excuse, Santiago.”

“He should be in charge,” Santi growls, turning his head. He’s not going to give her the space to bite back. “I got Redfly killed, and I have to deal with that every day. You ruined your friendship with your sister and now you have to figure out how to mend it. And we will both deal with it, on our own.”

She sits there, dumbfounded by him, eyes glazing over. “You’re serious?”

He doesn’t respond with anything more than a grunt, unlocking the door as an indication for her to get out.

[pedrostylez]

Anna and Santiago Drabble

chapter summary: Anna and Santiago after Benny's fight

rating: 18+ (no minors please) Explicit

word count: ~870 words

warnings etc: mature language used, but nothing graphic, nightmares mentioned, PTSD hinted at.

A/N: Happy Tuesday! These drabbles will be short in nature, but give some further context to the story that I think is important. Let's look further into Anna's thoughts and what she knows from Santiago, shall we? As a side note, I do not know how many more parts there are to Something Else, and I am currently a little stuck in regards as to what I think should happen next. I have things planned, but in what order and timeline-wise, I need time to think about it! Let me know what you think :)

Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11 @jake-g-lockley, @theanothersherlockian, @anoverwhelmingdin, @guelyury, @harriedandharassed, @wintersquirrel @scarletthefierce @paleidiot @brittmb115 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @bluetattoos

The drive back from Benny’s fight was quiet. Santiago reached for Anna’s hand on multiple occasions, but she was zoned out, far away in her mind as she thought about you. She wondered what signs she had missed about Brad, about why you didn’t tell her it wasn’t actually okay; why you let it slide when she came back from the bathroom all those years ago with lipstick smeared across her jaw.

God, you even helped her clean it up as you told her “He’s just a frat boy, no foul.” when she saw that look on your face that you were hurt. How could you just brush it off like that? She would have gone ballistic if–

“Earth to Annie.” Santi says quietly, pulling up to his apartment and parking a few spots down. “What’s going on, honey?”

Anna takes a deep breath, turning her attention to Santiago. His eyes are sad, a small smile on his face trying to cover it. “Nothing, Santi. I’m just trying to think through some things.” She plasters on her own smile, reaching for his cheek and cradling his face. “What’s going on with you? You and Frankie are typically buddied up and tonight you guys were…” She trails off, tilting her head back and forth. 

Santiago looks back forward, cutting the engine and leaning his head back. “He’s upset with me. I…you remember that trip? To South America, I have to go on soon?” Anna nods, picking at the ends of her fingers. “Well, I invited all of the guys. Kinda…finish what we started, type of trip. And Frankie…Frankie has struggled to get back to normal life and-I think I shouldn’t have suggested it anymore.”

Anna stays stoic, watching Santiago fight with his own thoughts before asking, “What business needs to be finished there?”

Santiago turns to her, leather under him creaking with the change. “I don’t want to scare you.” He states, looking down at the middle console. 

Anna frowns, reaching for Santiago’s hand. They had talked about his time in the military, and his time in Colombia specifically early on in their relationship. Santiago had confided in her about trying to help Colombia’s police on multiple occasions and had found comfort in her ability to just hold him, tell him he was past it, and let them continue on.  “Do you have good intentions?” She questions quietly, something Santiago had heard before. 

It had stunned him the first time he heard her say that, sitting on his couch with her arms crossed only a week into them thinking about being serious. He had mentioned that Will was looking for someone to settle down with, and asking her if she had any friends they could set up together. Anna had gotten serious, wanting to know if Santiago’s friends were really what he described them as. 

Now, she asks the same question about his own motives. “I…” He doesn’t know how much to tell her, even after months of her proving time and time again that she can handle it. She took everything he threw at her with ease, pointing out the flaws that he missed and comforting him after. “I want us all to be taken care of, and us going back will do that.”

“Is that a given? No errors possible?” She questions, watching him. “Do you know why Frankie is so against it?”

Santiago sits back, looking at his front door. “He said he doesn’t want to kill people again, but it wouldn’t entail that.”

Anna hears the silent “this time” and internally screams. She feels panic course through her veins. “Do you think it is worth your friendship with him to push his boundaries?”

She stunned him again, into total silence. He shakes his head, tears pricking his eyes. “No, of course not.” He turns to her, a small smile on her lips as she lets him think through it. “Will wants to; he said he’s ready as long as Ben and Francisco are ready, but…I don’t know.”

Anna doesn’t know that this includes millions of dollars in the Andes Mountains with a helicopter and guns to protect themselves. Anna doesn’t know that a week down there can turn into a month if something goes wrong. She’s only partly aware of how Santiago beat himself up for how the mission went based on his nightmares, yelling out for “Redfly,” and “Hold steady, Fish,” before sitting up in bed and wrapping himself around her, shivering and giving her small morsels of information from that mission. 

“We were ghosts, no one knew we were there.”

“Redfly was too quick to the trigger, and it got him killed.”

“There were too many kids. Why were they giving guns to kids?”

“Give him time, Santi.” Anna sighs, rubbing his arm. “He just got into a relationship, and he will think it over. If it’s really a good idea, and there are good intentions, then he will do it. He trusts you.”

Santi swallows harshly, watching Anna pick up her purse from the floorboard. “What has got you in your head, bebita?”

Anna opens the door, looking at him through the opening and shaking her head. She might start crying if she focuses on it too long. “I fucked up years ago, and I’m only just now being told about it.”