#camila santiago | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joelslegalwhre · 2 months

Text

Valetine's Day | Dad!Dieter Bravo x reader

word count: 1.2k

pairing: Dad!Dieter Bravo x fem!reader

summary: Dieter and your kids surprise you for Valentines day but you also have one for Dieter he didn't expect.

warnings: dad!dieter is his own warning (and au😌), a ton of fluff, reader is a mom, Santiago (Santi) is a toddler and Camila (Cami) is only about 10-18 months old, talks of breeding kink?, mention of drugs (Dieter is clean around his kids(!!), but we want him to have some fun here and then👀), reader calls dieter "daddy" (just once), this isn't proofread yet!, if I missed anything please tell me!

a/n: This has absolutely thrown my plan of introducing Dad!Dieter off track lol. Timing-wise, it's sometime after Dieter and reader already have kids and are married, but a little Valentine's Day special was too cute not to do.

So, have fun with the first little teaser to dad!dieter (he's got me in a chockehold, thanks @seratuyo & @alwaysmicado for hyping me up even more lmao) And thanks to @morallyinept for the "he said what" posts, they help me sm!

main masterlist

“Okay, everyone be really quiet when we open the door, okay?” “Yes, Daddy." Santi giggles and squeezes the bouquet, which seemed huge compared to his small frame, causing the paper to rustle. “C’mon, Cami.” He stretches out his short arm to take her by the hand, having difficulty balancing the bouquet in his hand.

"Here buddy, I'll take your sister and you give mummy her bouquet," Dieter says, gently taking your daughter in his arms. She’d only make a few steps anyway and would have to crawl the rest of the way. But ever since she started taking her first steps a few weeks ago, Santiago’s been thrilled and didn't want to go anywhere without his little sister. "Alright, ready?" Dieter asks again and both kids nod excitedly, giving him the reaction he wanted. Dieter grins at the two and then nods in the direction of the door behind which your bedroom was. And where you were still completely knocked out.

All thanks to Dieter. He insisted on giving you an 'early Valentine's Day present' last night.

"It's not too early, baby." he grinned with a smug smile. "It's technically the 14th already, and you know damn right what else is ready for you," he emphasized his words with a wiggle of his eyebrows, "all the time."

You chuckled at his attempt to seduce you and slid further up the bed until your back rested against the headboard. "Okay, show me your present then, Mr Bravo." you grinned.

"Your wish is my command, Mrs Bravo."

And as he removed his pants and slowly moved closer until he bent his body over yours, caging you in between him and the mattress, you knew it was going to be a long night.

"Alright, you go first little man."

Santiago nods again excitedly before stretching to open the door. Dieter tousles Camila's hair, making her smile instantly, and she looks up at her Dad with big brown eyes. "Let's go and surprise mommy, baby girl," he says and kisses her on the forehead before following your son. Dieter holds the door open so Santi can concentrate on delivering your flowers safely, all while watching his kid with a warm smile.

The noise of the door and Santis little feet tapping on the floor wakes you up. The first thing you see when you open your - still tired - eyes, is a broadly grinning Santiago. Dieter must’ve opened the curtains when he got up, so the room was bathed in a warm light.

“Happy Valentine's day, mommy!”

“Oh hi, good morning. Happy Valentine’s, baby.” you smile and straighten up in bed to sit cross-legged. Glad you put on one of Dieter's many oversized shirts yesterday.

“We got you flowers.” he tells you excitedly, holding out the flowers for you to see.

“Oh my god, they're almost as big as you are." you say with a chuckle, "They’re so beautiful, bubba.”

You smell them, closing your eyes as the soft, floral scent fills your nose. When you open them again, you see the piece of paper between the flowers, a tonne of pink and red glitter to decorate the heart-shaped card.

“Did you make this yourself?” you smile at Santiago, running your fingers through his brown curls. “I did! I used glitter, because you like it!”

“Yes, I do.” you chuckle. “Thank you.” you smile at him again, and he looks beyond proud.

“Happy Valentine’s day,” Dieter grins from behind Santiago, “Again.”

You giggle as he leans down, Cami still on his arm, and gives you a kiss.

“Ha, ha.” you say in feigned indignation, smacking him on the chest. But the smile that wins over your face, tells Dieter everything he needs to know.

He's still leaning over you as you reach out to take Cami from Dieter's arms and bring her next to you. "Hey, my little girl." She immediately smiles and you chuckle.

“Thank you so so much.” you say again, pulling Santiago into a hug and into your lap, as Dieter takes a seat behind you on the bed. The four of you together on the bed, the gigantic bouquet of flowers next to you - because that’s what Dieter does, and he’d die before he’d ever not get you the biggest one he could get - you felt so completely content, safe, and happy.

“Come here,” Dieter quietly says, one hand on your waist, pulling you - and Santi - to his chest, Cami crawling on the bed next to him. You let your head rest on his shoulder, but turn a little to give him a kiss on his jaw, and another one to the small bald patch in his, slowly but surely, salt and pepper turning beard. Dieter glances down at you and gives you a smile that brings your whole world to a halt.

Every time he looks at you with that special smile, it's like you're back in time, back in the kitchen, dancing and having batter spilt all over you. A smile that's reserved just for you.

“I love you, baby.” he whispers against your lips, his breath playing with yours.

“I love you.” you smile up at him.

“I can’t wait to have you all big and round again. You’re the perfect mom, would be a such waste not to have another one.” he continues. “Third time’s a charm, huh?” you play along with Dieter's little game of teasing. “Any other reason you’d like to knock me up, again?”

Dieter looks at you with a smug smile, his hand finding its way to your belly.

“Shh now, our kids are present,” he moves closer to your ear and his lips almost touch your earlobe. Dieter knows exactly how to tease you.

"Your tits are also incredible when you're pregnant." he grins.

"I literally just had Cami, they're still huge." you laugh softly and shake your head.

"It’s not about the size, baby. I always love them, no exception. But when you're pregnant they're so deliciously sensitive."

You can practically feel his cheeky grin. “Oh, you’re one of a kind, D.”

Santi is still snuggled up in your arms, half asleep again, while Cami is bubbling away next to you and Dieter, playing with the end of the blanket.

His one arm around your waist, you push up the sleeve of his dark, fuzzy teddy coat on his other arm to reveal his tattoos. Slowly, you trace both of his triad tattoos, a habit Dieter particularly loves.

“I got you something, too.” you say after a while of comfortable silence.

"Oh yeah?"

He places a gentle kiss on the top of your head. "Yeah." you reply, a knowing smile spreading on your lips.

"It's in the drawer," you whisper, tipping your head towards the bedside table. "Open it."

Moving slowly so as not to disturb you and Santi, Dieter leans towards the drawer and opens it. The slight rustling of the small bag filled with "white goodness", as he likes to call it, tells you that Dieter has found his present.

"Ohh baby, you just made the whole ‘baby making’ thing even better."

You grin and feel Dieter pull you closer to him, touching your waist in the process, causing you to giggle.

"Happy Valentine's day, daddy," you whisper in his ear.

main masterlist | ao3

💗Happy Valentine's day besties💗

#dad!dieter au #happy valentines my lomls🩷💜#pedro pascal #dieter bravo #dieter x reader #dieter bravo x reader #pedro pascal characters #the bubble #em writes #joelslegalwhre's masterlist #valentines day

93 notes · View notes

modernperplexity · 2 months

Text

Chapter Rating: E (18+) Minors DNI, mention of alcohol consumption and substance abuse, fluff, angst, sexual tension.

Word Count: 5,634

Pairing: Frankie x f!reader

Chapter summary: A glimpse into Francisco's past, You meet the guys, and Santiago (that meddling little shit) gets his way you'll see ;). This time we'll see soft and sexy Frankie, that's all I'll say for now.

A/N: Hey y'all! Chapter 4 is finally here! As always, my inbox is always open to chat/suggestions/ questions etc. Please feel free to comment/reblog. I love hearing from you! Also, please excuse any typos you may encounter.

If you'd like to join the tag list click here :) or let me know in the comments.

Happy reading loves!💜

Series Masterlist

Chapter 3 / Chapter 5

Chapter 4: Whiskey Sours & Sweet Confessions

“Are you shitting me!?” Ashley's eyes glazed over with pain and rage, “Are you fucking shitting me, Francisco!?” She slammed the mini zip lock bag on the dining table, her rage hung heavily in the air between them.

Frankie’s silence was deafening as he stared at the bag in defeat unable to tear away his gaze from the evidence Ashley had discovered. His mouth went dry, his voice caught somewhere between self-loathing and guilt of the choices that led him to that very moment.

“OH!.. So you have nothing to say?!” Again, there were no words in response to her confrontation, “God, you are so.. so-” She stammered, her voice quivering with indignation.

“Just say it.” Frankie surrendered, one hand covering his eyes, seeking brief solace from the heat of her anger.

“-Pathetic! I don’t know why I am even surprised anymore! This is so like you!”

The words stung as they reached Frankie who was sitting at the small dining table. Ashley’s yelling had prompted a sharp cry from Camilla who was only 8 months old. The guilt of losing Tom, the money, and the casualties of that mission haunted Francisco. He hated who he became but couldn’t fight the shadow that loomed over him. Ben had his boxing gig, Will went into overdrive at the VA, Santiago up and left for months at a time, and Frankie, well, he’d come back and dove head first into his only escape; the only thing that kept his body from feeling heavy.

“Ash, I’m s-” He could barely get a word out.

Ashley raised her finger to his face, the anger burned brighter in her eyes, her words laced with pain. "You promised!! Frankie!! You promised that things would be different. That we’d have a better life! But instead, you left me alone, responsible for everything, to care after your fucking kid..”

“Look, you can insult me all you want. I know I’m a piece of shit and I deserve it, okay!?” Frankie’s hands raised in defeat, “I deserve it, but don’t talk about Camila like that ..she’s your daughter too!”

“Well!” A slow clap accompanied her judgemental scoff, “look who finally decide to act like a father that actually gives a damn!”

"I... I never meant for it to come to this, Ash," he finally managed to say, his voice trembling. "I know I've fucked up- repeatedly. But please, believe me when I say that I never stopped caring about you or Camila."

Ashley turned away, her tears flowing freely now. "You have a shit way of showing you care, Frank. Time and time again you prove me right, I can't trust you. I can't keep playing this game."

She ran her fingers through her hair as she stared out the kitchen window “This isn’t what I wanted, Frank. I didn’t want this life, You left me alone in this, meanwhile you’re out there spendng the little money we have just to feel whatever the fuck it is you need” she paused, no longer being able to hold back tears, before she let out what she had wanted to say for the past few months, “I’m done... I’m done with you! We both know none of this is gonna change.”

“Ash, I’m sorry..I’ll get help this time, I promise.”He reached out a hand, desperate to bridge the evergrowing chasm between them.

“Don’t. touch. me.” she pinched the bridge of her nose, and drew a sharp breath “Get the fuck out”

Frankie’s eyes went wide, his words failing him once more.

“GET OUT!!” Ashley managed through her anger, tears now streaming down her face as she threw out a bag of his things and slammed the door.

Frankie dusted off the steel green amo box he had stored on his top closet shelf. His hands hesitated to reach the latch. It wasn’t often that the box saw the light of day. In it, Frankie held pictures he didn’t want around the house but that he knew someday Camila would ask for. Pictures of him and Ashley from the night they met, of Ashley’s pregnancy which Frankie begged to take- Ashley who always begrudgingly complied.

He looked through the old mementos and photos as his hands began to shake. One of Ashley and Cami at the hospital, Camilla’s newborn hat, and the tiny plastic medical ID bracelet among other things. He hesitated knowing what lay at the very bottom of the box. A dainty silver ring that he had bought a few weeks after he found out Ashley was pregnant but could never bring himself to give to her. It seemed like the obvious next step after having a baby.

Frankie always wanted to be a father. When he found out about Ashley’s pregnancy he was terrified but excited nonetheless. Reality hit him hard when the hospital bills came in, one after another. Money was tight and tensions were high between them before he lost his license and only became worse afterwards. Pope’s offer for the Lorea mission was insane but it offered him a chance to provide for his struggling family. A way to prove that all that time in the army and special ops wasn’t wasted. It was a weapon to fight back the voice inside his head that deemed him useless.

It had been a couple of days since Ashley had reached out. Should he respond? Did he even want to? The memories of seeing Camila for the first time, wrapped in a hospital blanket, so tiny and fragile, flooded his mind. The promise he made to himself to protect his little girl at all costs lingered. Now, he faced the difficult question: should he allow the woman who had abandoned him, who had heartlessly left Cami, back into their lives? Would he be selfish as a father if he refused to let Cami see her mom? Ashley had the potential to trigger him, but perhaps she had changed... or had she? His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door, breaking the cycle of contemplation that had consumed him since he opened the box.

“Texted the boys, they’ll meet us at the bar in an hour” Pope pried the door open a bit more when he saw the pictures scattered on Frankie's bed, giving Frankie a knowing glance while he leaned on the door frame, “You good?”

Frankie paused, that period of his life brought on a plague of complicated emotions, “Yeah...I uh- I’m fine”

“What are you going to do?” Santiago glanced over to the phone beside the box on Frankie’s bed.

Frankie dragged his hands over his patchy beard, “I.. don’t want to think about that right now”

“Good. Drinks on me, we’re celebrating tonight!”

“We got our pilot back boys!” Ben cheered from the corner of the bar. The “unhappy hour” neon sign provided a dim blue light over the booth where they sat.

“It’s been a long winding road, man. We’re proud of you, Fish!” Will clapped Frankie on the shoulder and handed him a glass

“Never met anyone more deserving..You belong in the sky” Ben added with a genuine smile, glad to see his brother happy again.

Frankie chuckled, “I still can’t fucking believe it. I get to have my wings back!” He sighed with deep relief “In all seriousness, I can’t thank y’all enough. You all had my back when I lost sight of everything that mattered”

“Hey, that’s in the past. You’re our brother, we’d do it all over again- no questions asked” Santiago replied.

Ben nodded in agreement and took a sip of his beer, “So, how does it feel to be back up there?”

“It's like nothing else, the freedom, the rush, the sense of control... It's fucking indescribable” He grinned, “I’ll take ya next time” I don’t mind the extra flight hours.

“Sign me up, but please, Fish, no more near-death experiences, alright? I had enough of that last time.”

The men all burst into laughter and clink their glasses together, “to Catfish!”

Michele practically dragged you out of your apartment. She had agreed to meet a few of her coworkers at a divey bar in town and insisted that you meet them. The night was slightly cooler than most Florida nights but not drastically colder- it is Florida after all, prompting you to wear a thin green cardigan paired with a black mini skirt that highlighted your curves, sheer black tights, and your comfy black combat boots.

She gently clasped your hand, leading you through the bustling crowd, the melody of The Smiths' "This Charming Man" filling the air around you. Your heart nearly skipped a beat as your eyes locked onto Frankie, a beer in hand, making his way towards the illuminated jukebox.

The sight of him left you momentarily breathless. "Everything alright?" Michele's concerned voice breaking through to you.

You blinked, forcing yourself to focus on the present moment. "Yeah, umm... Frankie's here," you managed to reply, your voice tinged with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

Michele's eyes widened in surprise. "He's here?" she echoed, her gaze darting around the bar.

"Over at the jukebox," you informed her with a subtle nod in Frankie's direction.

Her eyebrows raised in approval “Damn, he is fine, but you better go over there before blondie wins him over.”

“Wait, what?” Heat surged in your chest, a stark reminder of the truth you could no longer hide. The thought of someone else with him sent a pang of jealousy coursing through you. Oh no, is that the barista from the coffee shop?

Your eyes were locked in, unable tear away from the scene unfolding before your eyes. When it dawned on you, Frankie was no longer looking at her, he was now looking at you. A subtle spark of recognition and excitement flashed across his eyes, fleeting but unmistakable. Frankie briefly introduced her to Ben, who immediately wore a bright smile, before heading toward you.

“Talk to him!” Michele urged with encouragement, “Have some fun.. And PLEASE have something good to tell me afterward!” She squeezed you tight and handed you her shot of whiskey, “I’ll find you later... if you want me to find you.” She added with a wink before disappearing into the crowd.

As Frankie drew nearer, a surge of anticipation swept over you. With Michele's words echoing in your mind, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. With a quick flick of your wrist, you downed the whiskey Michele had given you, its fiery warmth spreading through your veins, emboldening you for the encounter ahead. You turned around and nearly collided with Frankie, “Oh, Jesus!” You blurted, your heart pounding in your chest as you stumbled back a step, caught off guard by the sudden proximity.

Frankie smiled, appearing amused and slightly concerned, ”Everything alright?” the genuine concern in his voice already putting you at ease.

“Just needed a little liquid courage, I guess” A nervous laugh escaped you.

Frankie chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “Well it looks like you can’t go a week without running into me” He teased, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I seem to have that effect on people” You chuckled, grasping the silver chain of the clutch you selected for the evening, “What are you doing here?”

“The boys brought me out to celebrate” He paused and leaned in closer, taking in the warm cherry scent of your perfume on the crook of your neck, his voice a hushed whisper, “I passed my pilot exam.”

“You passed the exam!!” Your eyes widened with excitement as you cheered, unable to contain the joy bubbling up within you. Without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around Frankie's neck, drawing him into a tight embrace. “Frankie, this is such great news! I’m so proud of you!”

Frankie’s grin widened his arms wrapping around you in return, the warmth of your body against his causing his heart to race even faster. “Thank you” he said, his voice tinged with sincere gratitude, “It’s been a long time coming” His eyes lingered over you as he pulled away, your face mere inches away, "You know, I couldn't have done it without your encouragement. Our conversation at the coffee shop meant a lot to me"

Your cheeks flushed pink at Frankie's heartfelt words, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Well, I'm glad I could help in some way," you replied, your heart swelling with pride and admiration for the man in front of you.

"What are you drinking?" Frankie asked, his eyes sparkling.

"You're here to celebrate you, but you want to buy me a drink?" you teased, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief.

"Just think of it as another coffee," he winked, his playful demeanor displaying no signs of surrender.

"A whiskey sour, please," you smiled, unable to resist his charm as you watched him effortlessly command the attention of the bartender. His presence seemed to fill the room, making everything else fade into the background.

As you observed him, a smile emerged from the corner of your lips, his hands made your glass seem three times smaller. "He buys me coffee and my drinks," you remarked with a playful sigh, adding a hint of dramatic flair. "A true American hero."

The widest grin spread across Frankie's face. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this at ease. Despite the complexities that could arise in whatever was happening between you both, he pushed those thoughts aside, not wanting to dwell on them, not tonight at least.

"Here," he said, handing you your drink, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. Without hesitation, he casually took your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours "Come on, I want you to meet the guys."

“Well, well, well- would you look what the cat dragged back in” Pope revealed a mischievous grin after taking a sip of his beer, his gaze shifting between you and Frankie.

You smiled, “Nice to see you again too, Santiago”

“I’m just messing, Hermosa” Santiago chuckled, getting up to hug you. “That was meant for Fish.”

“So this is Peech!” Ben exclaimed with a grin, pulling you into a strong and warm embrace, “I know the speech sessions are for our lil Camcam but I can tell you’re great! Fish hasn’t shut up about you since day one!”

Your cheeks flushed pink, Frankie too smitten by your nervous laughter to pay Ben any mind, aside from a brief sidelong glance in his direction.

“You’re kind of a celebrity ‘round these parts, darlin” Will added sweetly, “It’s good to put a face to the name finally.”

“Likewise!” you agreed, “Well since we’re all here to celebrate our pilot,” you lightly nudged Frankie, “Why don’t I get us the next round?

Ben sipped the last of his beer, and set down his glass, “OH I like her!”

The atmosphere was filled with laughter and positive energy. The men bantered and shared stories of their early days in the military with you. It came to you as a surprise to feel so effortlessly at home with the group. You would have never pictured feeling so at ease while surrounded by men. Your quick wit and charm drew them in. As the night wore on and drinks flowed, Frankie found himself becoming even more infatuated with you, displaying the palpable string of tension that existed between you both. It hung in the air, creating an undercurrent of anticipation and curiosity. The subtle stolen glances, lingering touches, traces of smiles. It all prompted knowing looks from those around the table. Santiago who of course, was the first to notice, wore a mischievous grin, earning him a swift kick under the table.

“So” Santiago interrupted Ben who had been bragging to you about all the fights he’d won recently, “has Catfish ever told you about Truth or Spare?” Santiago’s eyes eager for your response.

Ben whistled, “oh, here we fucking go”

“Oh come on..its just a game” Santiago hissed.

“What is this? Highschool?” Ben shook his head

“WhAt Is tHiS HiGhScHoOl?” Santiago mocked in return.

A hesitant look flashed across Frankie’s face,“I don’t know Pope”

“It’s okay, I want to hear about this.” You chimed.

“He’s trying to get you to play this drinking game we all played when we enlisted in the army.” Will explained, directing a knowing look in Santiago’s direction, “But there’s no pressure.”

“We all played when we joined the squad” Ben said with a reassuring smile “some supposed way to build trust but really it was our excuse to get drunk on our days off”

You nodded, curious to learn more, "Hmm.. How do you play?" you looked at Santiago waiting for an explanation.

"You have to choose between answering a personal question with complete honesty or taking a shot. It's all about testing your limits."

Frankie's hesitant expression didn't ease, but he spoke up nonetheless. "Yeah, but it can get intense. Some questions really push your boundaries, and the drinks add up quickly."

Will half smiled "Shit’s about to get real, but seeing that your drink of choice is whiskey, I take it you can hold your own" He added with a wink.

A mix of excitement and apprehension settled in your chest. "Alright, I’m in."

“Atta girl!” Santiago nodded approvingly. "Welcome to our circle of trust. Just remember, once you start playing, there's no turning back."

You nodded, and met Frankie’s eyes with a playful smirk, "Okay, but Frankie goes first."

As the game kicked off, the group went easy on you. They couldn't help but laugh as you shared stories of your younger self sneaking out on summer nights and the satisfying moment when you finally stood up to your childhood bully after being pushed off your bike countless times. They absolutely loved that one. But as the game progressed, things got more intense. The questions became more personal, pushing boundaries and leading to more serious unearthing. You spilled the beans about that time you accidentally sent a sext to your grandma consequently making her blood pressure drop, sending her to the hospital earning “oohs” and laughs from the group. Pope begrungingly admitted to having a crush on one of Ben's exes. Ben got caught in the act during a threesome by one of the girl's ex-boyfriends, Will confessed to hooking up with the same flight attendant multiple times on different flights, and then there was Frankie, who got stuck in a janitor's closet for four and a half hours after hooking up with a girl at a concert and had to resort to peeing in a bucket (Yep, that was the last time he ever saw her).

Then Santiago’s question changed the air around you, “Are you seeing anyone?”

“No” Your response quick and easy, too easy to satisfy Santiago’s agenda.

“Do you currently have feelings for someone?” He prodded.

A fiery warmth spread across your chest at his second question, rendering you to an absolute halt. His words seemed to pierce through the din of the crowded bar, leaving you momentarily speechless.

"Um, well, I... I mean, you know, it's complicated," you stammered, your words slurring slightly as you struggled to form a coherent response. Frankie's presence heighten your flustered state, making you feel more unsettled than usual. The alcohol coursing through your veins seemed to amplify your nerves, leaving you feeling jittery and out of sorts.

Desperate for a moment of reprieve, you took another sip of your water, hoping it would help to calm your frazzled nerves. But instead, it only seemed to exacerbate your unease. "I, uh, I just...I do," you blurted out, your eyes widening in alarm as the words escaped your lips. With a sudden rush of embarrassment, you instinctively covered your mouth, as if trying to snatch back the breath you had just spoken.

Ben whistled in response, “Whoever he is, he is a godamn lucky guy” his eyes flickering briefly towards Frankie who held back a smile and preferred to fidget with the corner of his napkin than to look up at you.

You stole a quick glance at Frankie, hoping to gauge his reaction, but he kept his eyes fixed on the table, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. Despite his attempts to appear nonchalant, you couldn't shake the feeling that he could see right through you. Before the awkward silence could stretch any further, a buzzing at your hip provided a welcome interruption, breaking the tension that had settled over the table. Grateful for the distraction, you quickly reached for your phone, hoping to find solace in the familiar glow of the screen.

"S-sorry, I gotta take this," you stammered, your voice trembling slightly as you hurriedly scooted out of the booth and made your way to the patio area.

Once outside, you fumbled for your phone, your heart racing with anxiety. With trembling fingers, you answered the call. "Michele... Jesus Christ, I-I've never loved you more," you breathed into the phone.

“Hey, I just wanted to check in, you doing alright?” Her voice tinged with genuine concern.

You breathed in, composing yourself, “Yeah, I’ve been having a great time.” The alcohol coursing through your veins making you increasingly aware of your intoxicated state

“Of course you are chica! you’ve been surrounded by four smoking hot guys practically all night!” she quipped with a sassy tone, “That’s right, I saw them!”

You couldn't help but giggle at her playful remark as you swayed your way to the balcony.“Where are youu?” You asked, struggling to keep your balance.

“I’m out by the exit, heading out in a few but I wanted to make sure you’re good.” She giggled but not at anything you said. You thought you heard a male voice in the background, murmuring something and calling her "baby."

“Call me if you need anything, yeah? Except for condoms, I only have one of those in my purse” You could practically hear her mischievous smile over the phone.

“OH MY GOD!” You burst into laughter, “love you, I’ll text you when I get home”.

“Love you, bye!” Michele responded, her voice warm with affection before the line went silent. You ended the call and tucked your phone back into your purse, not yet ready to return to the company of your friends inside.

Just as you were about to gather your thoughts, a gentle hand landed on your shoulder, causing you to startle.You spun around faster than you realized you could handle in your current state, only to find Frankie standing there, his hands held out in a gesture of apology.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you”. He said softly, his eyes filled with concern as he steadied you with his touch.

You responded with a shy smile, mesmerized by the way his deep brown eyes sparked, even in the dim twinkling lights of the patio. “It’s okay”

“I, uh, I wanted apologize about Pope.” His hands lingered on your arms, and you couldn't help but notice the way your heart fluttered at his proximity. “He can get intense”.

“Oh F-frankie, you don’t have to do that, itss all fun and games”. Despite your attempt to remain composed, you found yourself increasingly aware of the effect the game had on you, the warm, fuzzy effect of the drinks settling over your body. So much so that you nearly tripped on your own feet. "Oops!" you giggled, feeling the edges of your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“I think it’s time to get you home” Frankie smiled sweetly at your clumsiness before realizing the implication of his own words, “I uh, I mean, not like that. I just–”.

You placed a finger on his lips “Shhh..” quickly stealing a glance of his eyes and back to your finger, your voice soft but insistent “Jussst take me home”, Frankie’s gaze made you nervous “....there’s no way I can drive like this”

The bar pulsed with excitement, even though it was well past midnight. Frankie's touch was like a gentle yet firm anchor as he guided you through the sea of people, his presence stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you. You'd often fantasized about what it would be like to spend a night out with him, but never did you think of a moment like this. Frankie opened the car door for you, his eyes filled with a subtle tenderness as he helped you settle into the passenger seat. His caring nature was warm and reassuring. As you glanced around the interior of his car, you couldn't help but notice how spotless it was. Of course, you thought. He did have a military background afterall.

The engine roared to life, the sound blending seamlessly with the melody of Gerry Rafferty's "Right Down the Line" playing softly in the foreground. It was a song you knew well, its familiar notes adding to the magic of the moment. Frankie loved night drives, particularly on nights like tonight when the air carried a hint of coolness. He couldn't help but steal glances at you, as the wind played with your hair, brushing it across your cheeks. He watched with a smile as you sang along to every word of the song without a care in the world. It was as though each lyric held a piece of your soul, released into the air with each heartfelt note. In that moment, under the starlit sky, Frankie found himself captivated by the raw beauty of your uninhibited joy, feeling a warmth spread through him at the sight of your carefree spirit. It was a moment he wished he could freeze in time, etching it into his memory as a reminder of the magic that existed in the simplest of moments spent with you.

Your hand reached for his, reminding him that this, whatever this was, was actually happening. There was this air of trust between you.

"Still feeling okay?" Frankie asked, his voice soft as he glanced at you, his eyes reflecting the dim glow of the streetlights nearby as the car came to a stop.

You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. “I'm okay. Thank you for driving me home"

Frankie squeezed your hand gently. "Anytime. I want to make sure you’re safe, Hermosa."

A soft blush tinted your cheeks at his words, and you looked out the window, trying to hide your smile.

Frankie stepped out of the car, and opened the door for you. He offered his hand, assisting you up the stairs that led to your front door. The yellow glow of the overhead bulb cast a warm hue over his features, accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw and the curls in his hair.

As you climbed the steps, lost in thought of his features, you stumbled, your foot catching on the edge. With a surprised yelp, you began to fall forward, but Frankie was quick to react, reaching out to steady you, once again.

"Whoa there clumsy," he chuckled, a smile playing on his lips. "wouldn't want you taking a tumble."

You both couldn't help but laugh at your own tipsy clumsiness, the tension of the moment dissolving into shared amusement. "Thanks," you said, flashing him a grateful smile. "Guess drinks and stairs don’t mix."

Frankie grinned, his eyes sparkling with humor. "No problem, but you know, I've never seen anyone trip going up stairs before. You've got talent!” He chuckled

Your laughter only grew louder at his quip, and after a moment of catching your breath, his eyes met yours and you decided to take a chance.

You paused, liquid courage spurring you on. "Can I tell you somethin?" you asked, your voice tentative.

"Of course, Hermosa," Frankie replied, his expression curious.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before confessing, "I really should have kissed you that first night we met."

For a moment, there was silence between you, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Then, Frankie's smile widened, a warmth filling his gaze as he reached out to gently cup your cheek.

"Then why don't you?" he murmured softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

Your heart skipped a beat as Frankie's words hung in the air, sending a thrill coursing through your veins. His touch was electrifying, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

You could feel the heat of his breath against your skin, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still as you drowned in the intensity of his gaze.

"Maybe… I will," your voice barely above a whisper, hardly audible over the pounding of your heart.

Frankie's smile widened, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. "I dare you."

With a surge of boldness, you closed the remaining distance between you, your lips meeting his in a sweet, exhilarating kiss. It was everything you had imagined and more, a perfect fusion of passion and tenderness that left you breathless and craving more.

As you pulled away, a grin spread across Frankie's face, his eyes sparkling with joy and affection."Looks like dreams really do come true," he murmured, his voice filled with desire.

Your heart raced as he leaned in for another kiss, his lips crashing into yours. This time with an intensity that sent sparks flying, fueled by hunger and desire.

You melted into him, tangling your fingers in his curls as his kiss deepened, each touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. Frankie's hands reached for your thighs, wrapping you around him, as he carried you up the stairs and into your apartment with ease.

“Bedroom” you managed to breath out in between kisses “Mmm…to the…left”

You collapsed onto the cool sheets of your duvet when Frankie paused “Wait..” his chest rising and falling as he leveled his breath, his tone suddenly serious “let's…let’s slow down a bit”

“Yeah” you responded, a confused look flickered across your face, “Okay, you’re right. We probably should”.

"I like you, a lot," Frankie admitted, his gaze softening as he looked into your eyes. "But I want to do this the right way and–“ He stopped mid thought glancing over at your open bathroom door “I also couldn’t help but notice that annoying leaky faucet!”

A laugh bubbled up from your chest, you breathed in still catching your breath “I’ve been bugging the landlord about that for months!”

Frankie grinned, his eyes lighting up. "That's an easy fix! I can come by sometime and help you out with that."

A warmth spread through your chest at his offer, and you couldn't help but smile. "Oh really?” Your voice offering a tone of mischief ,”I'd like that," you replied, feeling a sense of anticipation building between you “I’d like that a lot actually”

Without hesitation Frankie leaned in and planted a quick tender kiss on your forehead before settling beside you. The warmth of his presence beside you filled you with a sense of comfort and contentment, and you couldn't help but snuggle closer, savoring the closeness between you as a comfortable silence enveloped you both. But soon, conversation resumed, flowing effortlessly between you as you discussed your favorite movies, swapping recommendations and sharing anecdotes about awkward date experiences.

Frankie's laughter filled the room as he recounted a particularly embarrassing moment from his past, and you couldn't help but join in, sharing your own humorous stories in return. The more you talked, the more you realized just how much you had in common, and each revelation brought you closer together.

At one point, Frankie leaned in close, his voice low with mock solemnity. "Well, now that we've shared all our embarrassing stories and secrets, what are we going to talk about on our first date?"

A blush crept up your cheeks at his teasing remark, but you couldn't help but laugh. "Guess we'll just have to come up with some new material," you replied playfully.

As the conversation lulled, Frankie glanced at the clock and sighed. "I should probably head home," he said reluctantly.

But before he could move, you reached out and gently grasped his hand, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please stay," you pleaded quietly, "For me."

For a moment, Frankie's expression softened, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of surprise and tenderness. And without another word, he nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he settled back into bed beside you.

But before sleep claimed you, Frankie's quiet voice broke the silence. "You know, you're half right about that first night we met."

"What do you mean?" you responded, now propping yourself up to look at him.

"I should've kissed you," he admitted, a hint of regret in his tone. "I should've made you put your number in my phone or something." He chuckled softly, his fingers gently playing with strands of your hair.

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession, "Well, lucky for you, it's not too late," you replied, reaching for his phone on the nightstand, a smile tugging at your lips.

And as you melted into each other's embrace, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you wrapped up in the quiet stillness of the night. With the gentle patter of rain as your lullaby, you drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 3 / Chapter 5

Taglist:

@aquanatalie @spookyjamie333 @casa-boiardi @gaypoetsblog @jitterbugs927 @leed-bbg @kittenlittle24 @your-voice-is-mellifluous @jedi-in-crocs @bitchwitch1981 @pastelnap @pimosworld @76bookworm76 @littlemisspascal @southernbe @missladym1981 @anoverwhelmingdin @inept-the-magnificent @harriedandharassed @brilliantopposite187 @partyofone3413 @bunniboo0015

#frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x f!reader #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #mine series #modernperplexity #fankie morales fan fiction #mine fic #mine chapter 4 #whiskey sours and sweet confessions

68 notes · View notes

pimosworld · 4 months

Text

Santa’s a home wrecker

Pairing-Triple Frontier boys x f!reader

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

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

WK-1.6K

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

Not beta read

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Buenos Días mi amor.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deep breaths bud.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

Santi stands there in the same stance.

“Don’t worry I’ll explain later.”

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

Tags- @breesusbaby @luciferiorbxtch @missdictatorme @alwaysdjarin @meveispunk @casa-boiardi @evyiione @littlenosoul @the-fox-den @saturn-rings-writes @romanarose @wandasbitch22@spngingerbread21 @spookyxsam @summer-may @imonmykneessir @avastrasposts @fishingforpike @laaundromat @tanzthompson @living-in-a-daydream-24 @savvysav27 @csarab615 @scarletthefierce @paleidiot @comfortlessjoy @trinkets01 @awkwardalie @missladym1981 @soft-persephone @itspdameronthings @ghostslillady

136 notes · View notes

dontmeantobepoliticalbut · 8 months

Text

Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez said Thursday in Chile that it was imperative for the United States to declassify documents that could shed light on Washington’s involvement in the South American country’s 1973 coup.

“The transparency of the United States could present an opportunity for a new phase in our relationship between the United States and Chile,” Ocasio-Cortez said in Spanish in a video posted on Instagram alongside Camila Vallejo, the spokesperson for the left-leaning government of President Gabriel Boric.

The Democratic congresswoman from New York is part of a delegation of lawmakers who traveled to the capital of Santiago ahead of the 50th anniversary of the coup against President Salvador Allende on Sept. 11, 1973.

The delegation had first traveled to Brazil and will now go to Colombia, both of which are also ruled by left-leaning governments.

The goal of the trip was to “start to change … the relationships between the United States and Chile and the region, Latin America as a whole,” Ocasio-Cortez said outside the Museum of Memory and Human Rights that remembers the victims of the dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet, who ruled from 1973 to 1990.

“It’s very important to frame the history of what happened here in Chile with Pinochet’s dictatorship. And also to acknowledge and reflect on the role of the United States in those events,” Ocasio-Cortez said.

Ocasio-Cortez said she has introduced legislation to declassify documents related to Chile’s coup and Vallejo said a similar request had been made by the Chilean government.

“In Chile as well, a similar request was made … that aims to declassify documents from the Nixon administration, particularly certain testimonies from the CIA director. This is to attain a clearer understanding of what transpired and how the United States was involved in the planning of the civil and military coup, and the subsequent years that followed,” Vallejo said. “This is very important for our history.”

U.S. Rep. Greg Casar, a Democrat from Texas, said after the delegation’s approximately hourlong visit to the museum in Santiago that it was important to recognize the “truth” that “the United States was involved with the dictatorship and the coup.”

“So that’s why we’re here,” Casar said in Spanish to journalists, “to acknowledge the truth, to begin a new future.”

U.S. Rep. Joaquin Castro from Texas said the visit to the museum was a reminder that it was important “to make sure that a tragedy and a horror like this never, ever happens again in Chile or in Latin America or anywhere else around the world.”

Earlier in the day, the delegation also met with Santiago Mayor Irací Hassler.

Reps. Nydia Velázquez of New York and Maxwell Frost of Florida also traveled to South America as part of the delegation sponsored by the Center for Economic and Policy Research, a Washington-based think tank.

93 notes · View notes

trueloveistreacherous · 1 year

Photo

MARELLA'S 11TH YEAR TUMBLR ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION @youngsamberg requested: timestamp roulette + Brooklyn Nine Nine S05E07 (Two Turkeys)

First, we have the Santiagos. Camila and Victor. They are traditional and reserved and, like their daughter, controlling. I wouldn’t say I’m controlling. I would say I’m type A. You should write “Type A’” there instead of controlling.

395 notes · View notes

quietblueriver · 9 months

Text

Quick thing #4. Beatrice and Ava go on vacation.

Fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff. Thanks to @gingerniiiija for the prompt, holiday seasons, which I twisted a bit to get here.

“Hey, Bea.”

“Hmm?”

They’re in a hammock, acquired on a whim by Ava on a trip to the city and strung up by Beatrice in one of the groves a little further away from the Cradle. It’s a lazy afternoon, something Beatrice is learning to allow herself more, and she’d abandoned her book some time ago, focusing instead on the press of Ava’s body and unhurried kisses and the warmth of the springtime sun. Ava’s nose is tucked into her neck, and she feels the question in the breath against her collarbone.

“Wanna go on vacation with me?”

“Vacation?”

There’s a jostle, the hammock swinging unevenly until Ava employs the halo, a distinct hum and small glow, to finish hauling herself overtop Beatrice. She rests her arms across Beatrice’s chest and her chin on her wrist as she looks up at her. She is, as always, beautiful, hair a little wild and bright brown eyes wide and excited.

“Yeah!” She bites her lower lip, and Beatrice thinks idly that she’d like to take it for herself, refrains because Ava is telling her something, is excited to tell her something. She files the desire away for later. “I was thinking maybe France? The beach? We have time now, and we can afford it.”

They do have time, war no longer on the horizon, and they can afford it, the Church having set up very generous accounts for them both shortly after Ava’s return.

(She asked questions, of course, when she was unceremoniously handed an account login and a new debit card, numbers so high she had to read them three times to be sure she wasn’t mistaken. Ava, looking at the information on her own account, said simply, “Holy shit.”

“It’s the very least they can do,” Camila said dismissively, already back to reading her book.

“Indeed,” Mother Superion added from her own chair, “And you will continue to receive pay, of course. We can discuss the details when you’ve decided whether you’d like to stay and what you’d like to be doing.”)

Beatrice thinks for a moment, finds all of the excuses not to go far less convincing than the hopeful eyes blinking up at her. It’s a gift of peacetime that she doesn’t take for granted, the ability to say yes to Ava.

“I think you’ll love Nice.”

It’s only the halo that saves them both from toppling to the ground with Ava’s enthusiastic response, Beatrice wrapped around Ava like a koala as she laughs and then lowers them gently back into the fabric, kissing her in apology.

They leave two weeks later, after wrapping up a training series with some of the new recruits. Ava is delighted by everything, starting with the airport, and Beatrice knows, as she watches her girlfriend talk excitedly with a six year old about the plane taking off from the gate next to theirs, that this is going to be wonderful.

She spent most of her life surrounded by people who had everything and made a show of thinking it was nothing. Blasé discussions of trips to Vienna and Moscow and Santiago, vineyards and exhibitions and Michelin stars. She was ashamed, when she first got to know her sisters, of the distance between her life and theirs. She was ashamed of the respect Lilith granted her based on her last name. She was, most of all, ashamed to find that she had learned to take so much for granted herself.

Ava takes nothing for granted. It had been difficult for Beatrice, at first. She’d given her whole life to duty and service, and Ava was so focused on herself, on her own life. She hadn’t understood, at first. But teaching Ava to swim, watching her practice her letters every night, listening to her sing terribly in the shower and learn the names of all of the regulars, Beatrice saw an unfamiliar appreciation for life. She sees it still, although now its more selfish edges have been tempered by security and maturity and love. She is learning, with each lazy afternoon and late-night baking experiment and reality television marathon with Dora and Camila, to feel it herself. Still duty and service, of course. But she’s trying for balance, these days.

“Bea!” Ava squeezes her hand as they fly over the coastline. She’d given her the window seat, happily, and she leans into her now to get a better view of the ocean, letting Ava’s excitement catch hold of her, too.

After dropping their bags in the hotel, their first stop is the Mediterranean. Ava loves the beach, and Beatrice loves watching Ava on the beach, the seemingly endless joy she gets from letting the waves wash over her feet. She also loves the warmth of Ava’s skin after a day in the sun, the way she leans back into Beatrice on the balcony of their hotel room and shamelessly weaves her hand into Beatrice’s hair, tugging her down and letting out a pleading noise that Beatrice understands and responds to immediately, trailing kisses across the precious skin bared to her. Beatrice lets herself go, tries to let every bit of the love she feels make its way to Ava through the press of her lips and the touch of her fingers. She thinks, as she feels Ava come apart underneath her in the hotel bed, the salt of the ocean on her skin, that this must be joy.

On their second day in the city, Ava takes her shopping. Beatrice doesn’t own things appropriate for this weather, for the beach, and she knows this, so she agrees with only some trepidation to spend their morning finding clothes. Ava, who has a collection of things that work in this kind of weather, finds a pair of high-waisted black shorts that she loves and that make Beatrice feel a little stupid when Ava comes out of the dressing room, tanned skin on display. Mostly, though, she finds things for Beatrice. Or, she helps Beatrice find things for herself.

She knows what Beatrice wants. She’d spoken it quietly into the darkness of their room at Cat’s Cradle as Ava traced her fingers over Beatrice’s ribs and listened to her heartbeat. They had a rare day of freedom, in the time when things were still so unsure, and Beatrice and Ava and Camila wandered into one of the smaller local towns to see a movie and get ice cream. They passed a couple on the sidewalk, and it was nothing more than a moment, but Ava watched Beatice’s eyes track one of the women, wearing dark green chinos and a patterned button-down, all in a masculine cut, tattoos visible below her rolled sleeves and boots deep brown and well-worn.

“I think when we…I think after…that I’d like to try to find clothes that make me feel…more like myself.” Ava pressed a kiss to her sternum. “I love that. I’m so excited for you to get to do that, baby. We can go shopping together, if you want.”

Now, she steps into the men’s section without any kind of hesitation, and Beatrice follows. Ava pulls a shirt, a green linen henley, and holds it out in front of her, tiling her head slightly. She must like what she sees, because she turns to Beatrice with a question in her eyes, hanger out in invitation. Beatrice kisses her, hard and eager and more deeply than she usually would in public, trapping the shirt between them. Ava makes a startled noise but recovers quickly, relaxing into the kiss. She uses her free hand to cup Beatrice’s jaw and pull her closer.

Beatrice can’t help herself. This girl, this girl who loves her, is standing right there, holding up clothes from the men’s section for Beatrice as though it’s nothing, as though it wouldn’t occur to her to do anything else. Beatrice knows, actually, that it wouldn’t occur to her to do anything else, that the moment Beatrice expressed that this might make her feel good, Ava was on board immediately; Ava was ready to conduct the fucking train. When she pulls back, Ava is a little dazed, which is rare, and Beatrice feels accomplished. She gets the shirt and several others, as well as some linen pants. Ava even manages to get her to try shorts, and she likes them enough that she gets three pairs.

They wander past a barber shop the next day and Beatrice finds herself stopping, watching through the window as someone gets their cut cleaned up. Ava, who loves Beatrice so perfectly that it sometimes makes her chest ache, stops behind her and presses up to rest her chin on Beatrice’s shoulder. She says quietly and without any fanfare, “I think you’d look very handsome, if you ever wanted to cut your hair that way.” She slips her left hand into Beatrice’s back pocket and presses a kiss under her jaw.

“Really? You…you wouldn’t mind? I know you love my hair.”

“Baby.” It’s so gentle. Beatrice has never been treated with such care, and she’s not sure she’ll ever be used to it. Ava’s hand slips from her pocket and meets its pair around Beatrice’s waist. “I love you. It makes me so fucking happy to see you trying things, figuring out what you like and what makes you feel good.” She tugs at the short-sleeved button-down Beatrice wears as if in demonstration. It’s one of their purchases from yesterday, linen with wide light blue and white stripes, and Beatrice feels good in it.

“I’m thinking about it.”

Ava comes around to kiss her, grinning, and then takes her hand again. “Love that. Wanna go get ice cream?”

They go back to the beach for the afternoon and then return to the hotel to get ready for their reservation at a place down the street recommended by one of the older women Ava befriended on their beach walk yesterday, bonding with them over her obvious delight in a pastry from the bakery next door to their hotel. “You must try it,” the woman, Simone, said to Ava of her favorite seafood dish, before reaching a hand out, and, at Ava’s nod, wiping flaky pastry from her cheek. Ava went a little red but Simone laughed affectionately and said, “You remind me of my granddaughter. Very beautiful. Very alive.” Yes, Beatrice thought as she made the reservations while Ava discussed additional food they must try, very beautiful and very alive.

She takes a shower while Ava naps a little, puts on new, light linen pants and a dark blue button-down. She’s finishing her braid when she hears the sheets rustle, and she turns to find Ava sitting up and blinking sleepily at her. She’s in one of Beatrice’s t-shirts and underwear, the covers kicked entirely off of one leg. Beatrice’s breath stutters, as it does sometimes when she looks at her.

“Hello, love. Did you sleep well?”

Ava’s eyes grow dark as they wander over her, and Beatrice walks toward her like she’s on a string being pulled, no conscious decision, just movement. She’s barely managed to sit on the edge of the bed before she has a lap full of Ava, who is warm from sleep and largely naked and pulls Beatrice’s hands under her shirt immediately. They do not make it to dinner, Ava promising into her skin that she’ll call to move the reservation. Instead, they eat bread and cheese with wine in their hotel room, Ava still in her t-shirt and nothing else. The fish is just as good the next night.

She hands Ava a coffee, iced with caramel and coconut milk, and settles into the seat next to her with her own, more boring latte. Ava kisses her cheek in thanks and hums happily as she takes a sip.

“So, how was your first vacation?”

Ava grins at her.

“Perfect.”

Beatrice sits her coffee in the cupholder of the airport chair and then leans forward to kiss her, her lips sweet and a little cold.

“Perfect.” Beatrice echoes. “Where do you want to go next?”

#warrior nun #avatrice #sister beatrice #ava silva #warrior nun fic #wn prompt fic

97 notes · View notes

rodreyes · 14 days

Text

Camila Vallejo.

#camila vallejo #chile #2024 #santiago

1 note · View note

nerdieforpedro · 5 months

Text

You're not Broken

Frankie Morales x plus size female reader

Fanfiction: Teens and up

Masterlist / Francisco “Catfish” Morales Masterlist

Approx word count: ~2200 (I edited a bit after starting my draft post.)

Warnings: references to smut, descriptions of past violent traumatic events, depression, PTSD, minor physical altercation (wasn't intentional), anxiety, self-deprecation, Fluff at the end

Notes: I'm happy to finally have a fic for Frankie Friday! In many of my fics as of late, the angst has been HEAVY, this one is no exception. I tried to include all the warnings I thought would apply, please let me know if I need to add anything. I think at some point depending on what weird, painful, happy or fun path life has taken you down, we all may feel broken at some point.

We're not, we're just humans in an imperfect world just trying to figure it out.

The same question had been nagging your thoughts for the past month, “Why doesn’t he let me sleep over at his house?” You’d been with your boyfriend Frankie for three months, getting to know each other, having mind-blowing sex and having a great time so you thought. You’d even met his daughter, Camilla, who was an adorable two year old toddler a few times. Frankie would sleep at your place, playing big spoon to your little spoon, his strong arms wrapped around you, his chin and scruffy beard against your shoulder and neck. You’ve been to the man’s house, just haven’t stayed overnight in it. You realize it’s dumb, thinking too hard about this, you’ve only been together three months, it’s not that long, but it’s also not that short either, at least to you. He makes sure you get home safe from your dates and calls to let you know he’s in his house safe.

One night, you decide that tonight you’re going to ask him why, why he doesn’t want you in his house overnight. Frankie doesn’t offer an explanation, only that he didn’t realize that it was that important to you. Instantly, you feel like an idiot for bringing it up. He assures you you’re not and you both go off to bed, sleep soundly and he cooks you breakfast. Slowly, you spend more nights at his house, but it was one particular night within the week you had been staying overnight at Frankie’s house why he was hesitant to have you over.

It turns out, Franscico Morales is a man with layers, like an onion. He hates that analogy because his friend Santiago says it too often and Benny mentions that his feet smell like onions, anyone’s feet would after wearing heavy boots all day with no breathable material. He’s a kind man, a loving partner and a doting father. He was also a soldier in the Special Forces of the US Army. This left him with blemishes on his mind and frayed his soul, he tries to remember he’s not that man anymore and has moved on, left that behind. As a concept, he understands, but his body and soul never forget what he did in the name of his country. Most times, he can keep busy to stave off the intrusive thoughts, the fears, the self-loathing, the guilt of surviving, the blood he can still see on his hands and head shots he made. Even flying, something Frankie loves doing which lead him to the army, reminds him of his past, moving his comrades bodies to and fro, sometimes they were alive, sometimes not. Frankie has talked to some people about it, some at the VA, and those he served with, but it’s a struggle each day. He is happy though, his daughter lights up his world and so do you, his new girlfriend who he does want to see when he wakes up.

Instead, Frankie sometimes sees the faces of those left behind, those who he couldn’t save, other times, it might just be blood or his old comrade Tom on that damn mountain a hole in his fucking head. He doesn’t want to burden you with this quite yet, things are new, they’re good. He can’t bear for you to walk away as others have, scared of him, feeling he’s defective in some way. Even Camila’s mother felt that way about him, she told him he’s a wonderful father but a haunted man that can’t let anyone in. That stuck with Frankie in the subsequent years.

Now he’s here, happy that you’re lying next to him, but wondering when it will happen. When his mind will fail him again and he’ll see the past horrors taunt him once more. Thankfully you’re a heavy sleeper, he was sure that he had woken you at your place when he got up in the middle of the night and went for a walk, sat on the couch, read one of your books, scrolled through his phone and then when he was near exhausted, he climbed back into bed. You were never the wiser though, you’d wake up with that gorgeous smile and ask him how he slept, give him a kiss and ask him what he wanted to eat. It was as it should be, no nightmares, no horrid dreams, no violent visions, maybe he got three or four hours of sleep tops, but it was next to someone who treated him like he was normal. He had found that he slept slightly better at your place so he was hoping to keep that going as long as possible. The veteran would get up to four and a half hours of sleep consecutively at your home

Tonight in Frankie’s house was fine, better then fine actually because once again, he made you say nothing but his name for at least an hour. After you both came down from your highs, your boyfriend wiped you down per his routine. If there was one thing you had learned about Frankie, unless he approves, don’t disrupt his routine. He takes special care to wipe you down first then himself, encourages you to use the bathroom followed by himself. Then the pair of you got into bed, his big spoon to your little spoon. A lovely end to a lovely evening.

Except at one in the morning, you heard whispering. Frankie’s large hands weren’t on your round belly or wide thighs, instead, he had them wrapped around himself as sweat dotted his brow. An unfamiliar grimace was on his face as he mumbled something you couldn’t make out, it didn’t sound like words. You reached to touch his shoulder and he snapped back, he looked at you but his eyes were wide and unfocused. One of his hands grabbed your wrist as he draped you out of bed, he crouched behind the bedroom door. You didn’t say anything at first, shocked by what was happening but you started calling his name, first Frankie which he didn’t answer to, then you tried Francisco, he still gave you nothing. He was rattling off numbers now which were nonsensical. Finally you tried Sergeant Morales which got him to focus on you finally.

It took him a minute, but he recognized you and gasped in horror. Frankie didn’t remember getting out of the bed or grabbing you, ‘a new horror has happened’ he thought as he released your wrist. You actually hadn’t felt your hand for the last few minutes and now that he wasn’t putting any pressure on it, your wrist throbbed in pain, you winced but didn’t want to scare Frankie more than you already assumed that he was. He turned to head toward the kitchen but you stopped him.

“Wait, don’t go. I’m alright Frankie.”

“No you’re not cariño. Look at your wrist…I…”

“You didn’t mean to. I know you would never mean to. Is this…” You paused, taking a deep breath before asking. “Is this why you didn’t want me to sleepover?”

Frankie looks away for a moment, closing his eyes. Is this the moment he loses you? You say it’s fine but like hell it is. He knows your wrist hurts and you’ll be lucky if it doesn’t bruise by morning. You’re one of two people he wanted to be his best self for, you and his daughter, but he’s failed. Shown you what the outcome can be if his mind plays serious enough games with him. He looks into your patient eyes and nods. “Yes. Though not as severe as tonight was, most nights I…I don’t sleep well.”

You surprise him by embracing him, wrapping your soft body against him with your arms around him, massaging his back. “I’m glad I now know Frankie. We’re supposed to be up front with each other right?”

Frankie laid his head on your shoulder, placing a soft kiss on your round shoulder, he was in your arms and felt better, still guilty but better. Maybe you wouldn’t leave right away, he’d have time to convince you to stay at least.

“Frankie, let’s go back to bed, but I’ll be the big spoon this time.” His body stiffened, that was not part of the routine, his regimen with you. Before he could mention this, you’d pulled him back to bed and laid down, patting the pillow beside yourself. The man sighed and laid next to you in bed, giving in to your whim. He rolled on his side and felt your body against his, though your arms, especially your sore wrist didn’t quite make it around him due to the broadness of his back.

“Cariño, I think we should switch positions. Doesn’t your wrist hurt like that?” You knew Frankie wasn’t wrong, it still pulsed with pain, though slightly less since it had been a few minutes. You decided to turn on your back and patted your chest.

“Lay here then. No funny business though, we have work in the morning.” A playful grin spread across your lips. Frankie let out a happy huff and laid his head on your tender breasts as his chest lay across half your plush belly. One hand patted your head, his fingers rubbing your scalp as his other hand squeezed your hip.

“This is a lot better. You sure you can sleep like this though? Are you comfortable?” Your boyfriend asked, that was the man you knew, always concerned for your well being, even when you’re trying to get him settled.

“Yes, I can sleep through you having horrible dreams most nights.” You closed your eyes, realizing that may have been a cutting statement to make, but it was mainly directed at yourself. He’s been suffering like this and you didn’t know, slept happily without a care because you don’t remember your dreams but he does and it’s detrimental for him. “Sorry, I just…I would have tried to help you sooner you know. I get why you didn’t tell me. It’s a hellova thing to deal with Frankie.” You feel his body start to relax and to put more of his weight on you, he’s accepting of the position at least, you’re hopeful that it can get him back to sleep with minimal issue.

“Thank you cariño. I don’t deserve your understanding or your kindness.” A small acknowledgement comes from Frankie, though it makes you frown. He shouldn’t speak of himself that way, it’s not his fault his mind is in this state, it took years to become this. You had an arm that was laying across the pillows, above his shoulder, you bent it to place his scalp in your palm grasping and releasing his soft curls.

With a kiss placed on his forehead you told him, “You’re not broken Frankie. You’re entitled to so much from life. I love you and I won’t hear you talk about yourself like that. You’re too important to me.” A heat rose from your cheeks and spread throughout your body, you might burst into flames. You just told this man you loved him and you’ve only been dating him three months, that seems a bit soon. Even if a real tender moment is happening right now, that could sour it a bit or weird it out. You stayed perfectly still, closing your eyes to avoid the look on his face whatever it was. You worry too much.

Frankie is ecstatic with this turn of events. In fact, he too was wondering if it was too soon. Your plush body he loses himself in, your melodic voice where it always sounds like you’re singing his name, Camilla appeared to like you - she didn’t do the stranger danger and waddle away, you make him laugh, his friends liked you, you were aware of his past transporting discretion and although you didn’t excuse it completely, understood that he was trying to make ends meet at the time, enjoyed how comfortable he could be with you even in silence. Why shouldn’t he tell you that he loves you, especially now that you’ve said it first, though he did want to beat you to that originally. Francisco popped his chin up to look at you, your eyes were closed and he snickered, he had horrible dreams and you spun too many things inside that pretty head of yours.

“Look at me, Cariño,” he waited until you made eye contact with him. This was important after all, “I love you too and I also thought it was too soon. We’re on the same page most of the time. Stop spinning and sleep.” A small peck landed on the top of your breast before he laid his head back down.

Soon both of your respirations slowed and you slept until the morning. Frankie did not wake during the night or need an early morning walk. He had the best sleep he’d had in years. You were ecstatic to see him the next morning actually looking well rested for once, sitting on the side of the bed as he said good morning to you. Your hands pressed against his back as did your cheek - a wonderful start to the day for you both.

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #Frankie morales angst #ptsd #anxiety #frankie morales fluff

34 notes · View notes

redahlia-writes · 10 months

Text

you make loving fun. | frankie morales x ofc

six. need your love so bad.

content (for this chapter): family feels (again), marriage talks, cursing, lots of fluff, comfort, slight anxiousness, the boys being menaces, unedited

word count: 4.8k

a/n: i was trying to make this chapter longer because next one will be the last and i'm already missing them, but also it's been almost a month since you've last heard for me. exams aren't over yet, so it'll still take me a while to get the next one going and finished, so thank you for your patience (before and even more now). ily

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

series masterlist | masterlist

“When I was young, my mama used to tell me I would find love many times throughout my life, and it wouldn’t always look the way I expected it to. Unsurprisingly, she was right–I found love in her, the way she’d care for me even when I was here and she was back home, miles between us that at times felt unbearable; I found it in all of you, who’ve had to bear with me through college–I’m sorry, I love you, thank you for sticking around; and I found it in this family: Alba, who is too busy trying to get to the cake to hear a single word I’m saying–hi, sweetie, we’ll get you a piece right away; Frankie, of course–I’m not sure I knew what love really meant until you came around. You, and the rest of them. Because, you see, what I didn’t know when I first got with Frankie was that he came with addenda, and they are one of the best things that ever happened to me. Santiago, Will, Benny, you–I love you, and I hope you know I will always be there for you, whenever you need me. Growing up I never wondered what it’d be like to have brothers, to be honest, but I now know I just had to wait around to find out. It’s not half as bad, even the maddening moments. No–no, seriously, my hair’s gone almost white these past years dealing with you. But I’d do it all over again. Thank you–thank you for taking me in, for trusting me with your Frankie, and just for being you.”

The towel on Frankie’s shoulders was warm, and as he padded back towards the bedroom he felt the droplets of water fall from his hair, some escaping the towel and dripping down his neck. A muffled squeal came from the bed, where Camila rested sprawled on her back, Frankie’s phone in her hands as the screen light cast shadows across her face. She was smiling, tilting her head ever so slightly at his coming into the room though her eyes did not wander away from the images playing on the screen.

“Are you seriously watching it again?” he chuckled, climbing on the edge of the bed and carefully straddled her before lowering his frame over hers, threading his head through the needle formed by her arms.

“Yes,” she widened the space between her arms for him to fit in before he leaned fully over her, a quiet oof leaving her at his full weight now on her. He tucked his head in the curve of her neck, nosing gently at her jaw to let her give him more space, a quick kiss to her collarbone before settling down. “You know, I think Alba might become a great filmmaker–she really got your best side.”

“What?” he laughed, pulling his head up just about. “I have a best side?”

“Sure you do,” moving the phone into her left hand, she then proceeded to poke his left side with a quick grin, her eyes darting to the side towards him. The squealing noise came again from his right side, followed by a laughter and a are you fucking kidding me? “Look.”

With one arm wrapped around his shoulders and the other propped up to hold the phone up for both of them, he rested her cheek against hers, making her snort before pressing play again.

Camila didn’t remember the last time she’d been to the beach.

She used to go all the time back home–though home was now Frankie. Had been for a while.

Frankie, a few steps ahead, being dragged by Alba by his hand right towards the shore, his cap sitting slightly askew on his head as he did his best not to drop his shoes. Unable to help herself, Camila laughed at the sight, arms wrapped around herself as the chill of the sunset set in–she didn’t mind it that much.

Frankie lowered himself at Alba’s side, his hands wrapping around her waist as he leaned in and told her something that got lost in the sound of the waves. The kid was looking at him, eyes wide and mouth set in something akin to determination–as much as a 5-year-old could show, really. She nodded at whatever it was her father said, then freed herself from his hold and ran back towards her, kicking up sand as she went.

“Come, mama,” she said, grabbing the hem of her dress and pulling her along.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she chuckled, following as quickly as the sand allowed, looking back towards Frankie just once. He’d taken his cap off, shaking his curls a little as he twisted it in his hands, an amused look crossing his face. When she turned back towards Alba, she was heading straight for a large towel set on the sand, the corners held down by rocks. “Sweetie, hold on, that’s not for us,” she warned gently, picking up Alba’s pace.

“It is, actually,” Frankie called, slowly reaching their side. The kid was looking up, her hand still wrapped around Camila’s dress. “Thought it’d be nice to sit and watch it together,” he added, almost bashful, nodding towards the setting sun, sky already tinged of oranges and pinks. Camila grinned, extending her hand towards his.

“Sometimes I think you’re still trying to woo me,” she leaned into his shoulder as he got closer, pressing a kiss to it from above his sleeve. He bowed his head in return, brushing his lips to her temple.

“I absolutely am,” he returned with a firm nod, making her snort.

They dropped their shoes by the towel before sitting down–almost falling, really, Camila the first to drop down and tugging him with her. He made a noise of protest as he landed at her side. Alba moved to Camila's other side, burying her hands and feet in the sand, uninterested in the scene before them.

“Well, it’s working,” she hummed, one last glance towards the child before looking up ahead, tilting her head so that it was resting again on Frankie’s shoulder, inhaling deeply and letting her eyes flutter shut for a moment.

Frankie shuffled at her side, one hand dropping between them as he shifted a little, and then again, as if trying to find a comfortable position. She threaded her arm with his, tugging it gently to her chest and kissing his shoulder again, hooking her chin over it afterwards.

He sighed, hand coming up to brush down her forearm, thumb drawing circles across her skin. He cleared his throat once, twice, and when Camila opened her eyes he straightened his back almost abruptly, his gaze moving from her quickly to look up ahead.

Frankie was restless–though his angst had dimmed throughout the years, there were times he couldn’t sit still for too long without growing agitated. Camila would hold him then, just a few minutes, until they came up with something to do that would keep him occupied, whether it was going out for a walk or a drive or staying at home to make a more complex meal, each step a rule that ground him.

“We don’t have to stay here, honey,” she hummed, her chin still over his shoulder as she detangled their arms and brought both hands over his back, rubbing up and down in slow soothing motions. “Should we keep walking?”

“No, no,” he shook his head, gaze flickering from her to the red-tinged sea and back again. “Shit–I thought it’d be easier.”

“What’s wrong, Frankie?” her hands moved up to his shoulders, a delicate massage up the tensed curve of his neck that had him hum softly, eyelids fluttering shut for a moment.

“Nothing,” he shook his head again, twisting slightly to face her. “Nothing’s wrong. Nothing has been wrong for a while, and I have you to thank for that.”

“Honey–” she called softly, taking off her sunglasses, and he leaned in to kiss her–a quick brush of lips to quieten her.

“I love you,” he murmured, and turned furthermore, “so fucking much. I do. In a way I didn’t think would be possible–would be allowed to someone like me,” she shifted onto her knees, bringing herself closer to his front, the only barrier his crossed legs between them. Her hands fell to his knees, head tilting slightly as her gaze softened. “Every morning I wake up and see you and think that in all that shit I must’ve done something right for you to still be here, and–”

“Frankie,” she almost reprimanded, a small frown knitting her brow.

“Just let me–” he sighed, tipping his head back for a moment before exhaling, turning back to meet her eyes. “I know I want to wake up every day and think that for the rest of my life. I want to wake up to you and go to sleep with you and do everything else in the middle with you, Mila. For the rest of my life, I want–I want–”

From his pocket, Frankie struggled to pick out a small box–Camila’s eyes widened at the sight of the green velvet, a squealing noise leaving her abruptly as he brought it between the two of them. Before he could say anything else, she’d tipped herself forward, arms wrapped around his shoulders that brought them both down towards the sand. Frankie laughed, tightening his grip around the unopened box as he brought his other arm around her.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she called, voice muffled by his shirt. “You had me worried!” again he chuckled, brushing her side gently. “Yes–”

“I haven’t even asked you anything yet,” he said softly, but let his lips brush her cheek before she pulled her head back. Camila looked down at him, hair falling down as if to curtain them from the world, eyes wide and face flushed.

“Sorry,” she muttered, then pulled back–as much as Frankie’s arms allowed. “Wait, you were–were you asking–”

“Yes,” he laughed again, moving the box between them and opening its lid. Camila’s gaze flickered down to the ring in it, the opal encased in a white gold thin band popping from the dark case. “I know it doesn’t change much, and it doesn’t have to be right away, we’ve got all the time in the world, I just–” he placed the box on his chest, so as to bring his hand up and tuck her hair behind her ear, touch lingering over her cheek. “I want you to be my wife. I want to grow old with you. I want to do all that’s left to do in life with you, and call myself your husband, and be obnoxious and corny about it.”

“Is this why you wanted to come here?” her smile was wide, making her eyes squint and lines form around her mouth. He brushed his thumb along her cheek, nodding slowly and wrapping a lock of her hair around his finger.

“I wanted–I don’t know, thought I’d make it worth the wait,” he tilted his head to the side, nodding past her shoulder. “Even hired the best cameraman around to record it,” he grinned–Camila sat up and turned her head, watching as Alba struggled to keep Frankie’s phone with both her hands from her corner of the towel.

“You knew?” Camila gasped in mock surprise, and Alba’s toothy grin was accompanied by a fierce nod. Frankie sat up after her, making her shift back so that she was sitting between his legs, knees hooked over his thighs.

“Had to ask for her blessing,” he said, pushing her hair behind her shoulder and placing a gentle kiss to her collarbones. The box was back in his hand, still open, the dusk light reflecting across the ring, painting it with pinks and reds. “I know we joked about it before–how we’ve been practically married since the first time we met,” she chuckled, turning back towards him. “We can just make it official–don’t even have to change your name, and the ceremony can be just us, or no ceremony at all, just–”

“Have I ever told you you’re cute when you’re nervous?” she cut him off, amusement in her voice as she placed both hands on his chest. Frankie huffed, looking down for a moment–she hooked one finger under his chin right away, making him look up again.

There was a flush across her cheeks, and her eyes shimmered somewhere between glee and unshed tears, her smile impossibly wide as she pinched his chin, her thumb brushing his bottom lip in the process.

“What do you say?” he asked softly, lifting the ring just slightly, so that it was in the general range of her vision even though she didn’t look away from him.

“What d’you think?” she retorted, taking his face in her hands and pulling him closer. “Yes, Frankie,” she whispered almost against his lips, and his heavy exhale as if of relief made her laugh again, tilting her head to kiss him–just once before pulling back.

She kept one hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as she brought the other one between them–they weren’t sure who was shaking more, with soft laughter and head bents together as he struggled to pick the ring up and, ever so carefully, slide it on her finger. That was when the tears escaped Camila, before she leaned in again with another squeal, I love yous mumbled between kisses and her arms tight around his shoulders.

From somewhere behind them, sudden hollering and cheering rose broke them apart, both their heads twisting this and that direction to find the source of it, until–

“Tío Santi!” Alba exclaimed, dropping the phone and getting herself up, running–albeit with some difficulty–towards the three men advancing in their direction.

“From your expression I can only assume this was not part of the plan,” Camila chuckled, getting up herself. Frankie scoffed lightly, taking the hands she was offering him–his touch lingered on her ring finger, thumb brushing across the stone.

“It wasn’t,” he confirmed before turning around, just in time to be tackled by an overzealous Benny, both men stumbling back and making her laugh.

With Santi occupied with Alba, though his gaze darted towards them, Will approached Camila and immediately pulled her to his chest. There was an odd look on his face she didn’t have the time to decipher, soft eyes and bright smile mixed with something else.

“Frankie was being weird, so we followed you,” he murmured with a kiss to the top of her head as her own arms wrapped around him, tight. “Benny was the only one who didn’t understand what was going on. He thought we were just crashing a family date.”

“Can you blame me?” Benny protested, while Frankie struggled to escape his hold–he had him locked underneath his arm, the other hand to the top of his head, much like in a fight. “This one has been calling her the wife for years. But proposing? No,” he elongated the o, a huff when Frankie tapped against his forearm. “Gotta ask the wife. Let me tell the wife. No, we’re not married, I’m not asking yet,” he mocked before letting him go, Frankie scoffing and straightening his back as he attempted to fix his ruffled hair, scowling in Benny’s direction.

“Thanks, Ben,” he muttered, glancing in Camila’s direction where she’d tucked herself under Will’s arm. She was beaming, clearly amused.

“It’s true,” the younger Miller shrugged, and then opened his arms towards Camila. “Come here, you,” Will was barely out of the way before he had lifted her off the ground, almost throwing her over his shoulder with a yelp coming from her, shortly followed by laughter as they moved closer to the shore.

“Well, it was about time,” Will grinned, their hands clasping before he pulled Frankie close for a half-hug, half-pat on the back. “I’m surprised it took you this long.”

“Me too, actually,” Frankie chuckled, a little bashful. “I thought about it through the years–multiple times, actually–”

“Oh, I know you did,” Will laughed, looking over his shoulder to where Camila and Benny were. “We all knew. Benny bet you had the ring ready since the moment she moved in but didn’t know how to ask,” Frankie snorted, shaking his head.

“Well, he wasn’t too far off–but don’t tell him,” mock-seriousness on his face, Will nodded. “What about you?”

“I knew it’d happen when you thought the moment was right,” he shrugged, turning ever so slightly. Benny was in the water with Camila still on his shoulder. “Do you think she needs a hand?” he asked at her half-shriek when Benny pretended to drop her in.

“I think he does,” Frankie returned with a chuckle.

“Right,” Will scoffed, shaking his head slightly. He then lifted his hand again, clasping Frankie’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze as he met his gaze. “Congratulations, Frankie.”

“Thanks,” he murmured, and with one last nod Will moved towards the shore–whether to help Benny or Mila, he didn’t know. Santi was the last to approach, Alba sitting on his shoulders with her arms crossed over the top of his head.

“If you get married while I’m away, I’ll be pissed,” he warned, as they both turned towards the sea, Alba wriggling slightly as if wanting to reach for Frankie and then reconsidering it.

“You’re leaving again?” he returned with a light frown.

“Ah, you know me,” Santi shrugged, making Alba giggle–he then repeated the motion, looking up at her as she shrieked with laughter. “Never staying too long,” he added, while she flopped to one side and then forward. “Wanna get down, chiquitita?”

“No,” she retorted, her voice slightly muffled by her upside down position.

“Alright,” he chuckled, one hand resting for support on the top of her head.

“You might give it a try, you know?” Frankie said, eyeing his daughter and then back to Santi. “Settling down at last. You have people waiting for you.”

“Wasn’t one proposal enough for today?” Santi scoffed, glancing side-ways towards him–Frankie tilted his head slightly, already catching the nervous edge in his voice.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he said, a little softer, and Santi’s expression wavered for a moment. “Mila and I will always have a place for you with us–”

“Don’t go all homely on me now, Fish,” he quipped, and promptly closed his mouth at Frankie’s reprimanding gaze. He’d spent too much time with Camila.

“But we’re not the ones waiting for you,” he continued, and reached over to take Alba from his arms. “You gotta stop thinking you’re unworthy of this–of her,” Santi’s eyes closed for a moment as he inhaled sharply, hands dropping at his sides. “Just–consider it, for once. Instead of running away again, think about staying.”

“Christ, you’ve gotten soft,” Frankie scoffed, while he started shaking his head, gaze shifting from Alba to Camila, and back–Santi’s stomach twisted, shaking his head again before he sighed. “This ain’t for me. A home, a wife, it’s just–nah,” he cleared his throat, crossing and uncrossing his arms before reaching for Frankie, one hand on his shoulder as he forced a smile–genuine, yet tainted by images of a life he did not get to have. “But I’m glad it’s for you, Frankie. I’m happy for you.”

“Think about it,” Frankie just said, though he offered him a small smile.

“Think about what?” slightly breathless Camila got to Santi’s side, then hopped over his back, making him groan and step forward to refind his balance.

“Did you and your daughter just decide to destroy my knees for good?” he complained, even while he hooked his arms under her knees and fixed her position. With a laugh, Camila placed her chin above his head.

“Think about what?” she asked again.

“My best man’s speech–gotta figure out how to embarrass the both of you,” he retorted.

“Who said you’re gonna be the best man?” Frankie scoffed, and Santi’s brows arched slowly, turning to look at him.

“Oh, I’m gonna.”

Dinner with the Millers had become a staple at their household–firstly, Benny hankered to be with Alba and see Camila (who he ended up hogging all night); secondly, Will liked the routine. And he liked catching the glimpses into their homely lives, too, though he would not say it out loud. The way they’d sit on the couch always in the same spots, the coordination in setting the table, putting away the dishes, the looks they’d exchange with one another when somebody said something specific that clearly had a meaning for them and nobody else.

It was a life that suited Frankie, he thought. A life he deserved.

A life he hoped they’d eventually all get, though he believed there was not another Camila in the world for that to happen.

“What’s on the menu, Mrs. Morales?” he chuckled, getting into the kitchen to get to the fridge, the cake he’d bought–never one to show up empty-handed–carefully balanced in his hands. Camila made a tutting noise from in front of the oven, turning around with the towel in her hand and closed the oven door with her hip.

“I thought we’d agreed that wasn’t going to be a thing,” she scolded, and Will laughed, moving closer. “And anyway it’ll be Garcia-Morales.” “Right, right,” he peeked from over her shoulder to look at the oven, then back at her. “Bet Santi’ll be thrilled to have plentiful of jokes to make around that,” he added with a grin.

“Oh, he’s started already,” she scoffed, shaking her head and leaning back against the counter. “Frankie proposed to get married before he comes back just so we don’t have to hear it in the speeches, too,” Will settled at her side, arms crossed and grin still on. “Which reminds me–I’d like to ask you something.”

“I will not be your maid of honor,” she snorted, rolling her eyes as she turned towards him.

“Of course not, that’s Benny,” Will smiled again, turning his head, too. “And Santi is Frankie’s best man–which leaves us with you.”

“I’m fine not picking sides,” he shrugged slightly. “Gonna sit right in the middle of the aisle–you’re gonna have to walk past me to get there.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to sabotage me, then,” she scrunched up her nose, but then shook her head. “But I wasn’t talking about that, exactly, more–” she tilted her head on one side, then the other, as if pondering her words. “Well, sort of–I was wondering if you’d marry us.”

Will startled a moment, lips parting as he looked at her–her head still slightly tilted, her posture mimicking his, with the way they both leaned back and had their arms crossed. She had to look up to keep his gaze, and when she tapped over her elbow the light above them rippled across the stone of her ring, pulling his attention down.

“I appreciate the offer, Cami, but I’m more of a monogamous guy,” she rolled her eyes again.

“Very funny, William,” she scoffed, brows knitting a little. “I meant–”

“I know what you meant,” he chuckled, and she grimaced in his direction.

“Well, too bad, now you’re getting the speech,” she huffed, and trying to keep his grin at bay, Will mimicked a zipper closing across his lips, then reached over to wrap his hand around her wrist, detangling her arms. “You’ve always been there for Frankie, and I love you for that. And I know you weren’t sure about me in the beginning, which–I get it. I understood even then. And I’m glad you’ve still given me a chance despite that.”

“This is sounding a lot like a confession,” he murmured in clear amusement, and she glared at him. “Sorry–I’m sorry,” he chuckled, shaking her arm lightly.

“We’re not doing anything flashy, it’s just–just gonna be us, in our backyard, like many times before. Maybe I’ll wear white and Alba is gonna make me a flower crown because she says that’s what princesses wear in fairytales, maybe there’ll be a proper cake, some decorations, I don’t know. What I know is that it’ll be beautiful, because it’s gonna stay between us–our family, you guys, which is kind of the same thing,” he smiled at that, unable to help himself, a tingling feeling starting at the base of his nose, up between his eyes. “And I’d very much like it if it’d remain between us–which is why I’d very much like it if you’d be the one to officiate our wedding.”

“Shouldn’t you be saving the speeches for the day?” he mused, turning his gaze away with a quick sniffle. At the corner of his eyes, he saw her smile. “I did think Frankie had lost his mind at first. I definitely thought your timings were… odd, to say the least. Still do, actually–who marries after five years of already living together?” when he turned back to look at her, her shoulders were shaking lightly with laughter, big smile on her face that made his expression soften furthermore. “But I stopped having second thoughts about you long ago, Cami. You–”

“Shouldn’t you be saving that for the wedding?” she echoed, almost mockingly.

“You might be right,” he chuckled, and gave a gentle squeeze to her forearm. “I would like that. Thank you.”

“The tears in your eyes were a clear indicator of that, William,” her smile widened furthermore, if possible, amused.

“It’s the heat from the oven. Why are we standing right here?” he protested instead, making her laugh before she leapt forward, bringing her arms about his shoulders and pulling him towards her. Will melted into the hug right away, his eyes closed, his arms wrapping around her with a sigh–there was a comfort in Camila’s touches, they’d found. “Do we have a date?”

“As soon as Santi brings his ass back here,” she was rubbing his shoulders, something he’d seen her do when out with Frankie, too–slow movements right under the nape of his neck that made him relax. “He’s asked us to stay here a couple of months from now, so maybe then.”

“Spring wedding, then,” he announced, pulling back ever so slightly.

Smiling, Camila looked back up at him and nodded.

“Spring wedding,” she moved her hands from his shoulders and held his face in her hands a moment longer–there was so much left unsaid, not for lack of trying but for lack of words that could express it all. Frankie had gotten lucky, sure–but Camila was there for each and one of them, and vice-versa. The best way to say it was a simple, “I love you.”

Will wasn’t sure he could reply to that without crumbling, and he settled for a nod–knowing she’d understand, knowing she’d hold him again and kiss his cheek and complain about his stubble as she did each time. And he’d hold her a little tighter and pretend like everything was normal and tranquil when Frankie came in, red-faced.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he exhaled, and they slowly detangled each other from the hug, though Camila’s arm remained wound around Will’s waist. “I don’t know where Alba gets all that energy from. Maybe Benny’ll tire her out?”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s possible,” Camila sighed, somewhere between amused and defeated. “Is she still asking you to chase her?”

“Yes,” he sighed, and only then did he manage to focus on them both–Will’s face, specifically. His eyes a little wide and his skin slightly flushed. “So, what’d you say?” he asked, tentatively.

Camila gave a light pinch to Will’s side before moving away from him, reaching for Frankie instead and brushing his hair back from his forehead–there was a smile on her face as she leaned in, chin tilted upwards and neck craned.

“Says he’s monogamous,” she mock-pouted, and the initial perplexity on Frankie’s face melted away with a quick laugh and a glance in Will’s direction. Camila gave him a quick kiss before pulling back. “I’ll let you two talk about it–see if Benny needs a hand. Make sure the dinner doesn’t burn,” she added the last sentence already at the kitchen entrance.

“It’s not odd, right?” Will asked with a little frown, once it was just them two. “Me officiating your wedding.”

“I don’t see why it would,” Frankie shrugged lightly, burying his hands in his pockets. “It’s not, is it?”

“No, no, I just–didn’t expect Cami to think of it,” he murmured, and Frankie’s head tilted.

“I did, actually,” Will’s brows arched carefully. “I mean, I–you’ve always had my back, thought I’d ask you to one more time. Also, I thought you might be the only one who wouldn’t start crying,” the last sentence was added with amusement clear in his voice.

“Yeah, yeah, right–what am I supposed to do?” Will scoffed. “You’re getting married.”

“I am,” Frankie gave a lopsided grin at the words, making the other man shake his head. “Look, whatever you decide, I’ll understand–I just thought we could ask.”

“I already decided,” Will hummed, and it was Frankie’s turn to perk up a little. “You thought I was gonna say no to your wife? Come on.”

“That’s exactly why I sent her first,” the man grinned, making Will scoff lightly. “Can’t say no to the wife, right?”

52 notes · View notes