Tumgik
#Francisco 'Catfish' Morales
wardenparker · 2 months
Text
Hurry Home
Frankie Morales x female reader x Santiago Garcia
Rating: E for Explicit 18+ Word Count: 1.2k Warnings: Reader is described as wearing feminine clothing and having hair long enough to run fingers through. Fluff. Domesticity. Food/alcohol. Oral sex (m receiving), mention of shower sex. Summary: A small snapshot of an established poly relationship. Notes: There is no world in which I do not want to be in a poly marriage with Frankie and Pope. End of story. I hope you enjoy!
Tumblr media
The light in the living room is still on when you come through the door; the smell of long-cooked chili wafting from the kitchen where unwashed dishes sit waiting for the morning. You drop your purse in its traditional place on the little table by the door and immediately reach down to pry the high heels off your aching feet. Too many damned meetings have fried your brain and left you craving a hot dinner and sweet cuddles. Thankfully, that delicious smell from the kitchen and the sound of Yellowstone on the television in the living room mean that Santiago is home. Alas, the gentle snoring means he has fallen asleep on the sofa.
Intent on not waking him up, you decide not to turn on the light and move soundlessly around the kitchen in your stockings and dress, glad to have rejected your heels at the door. Santi’s chili is your favourite comfort food. It’s spicy enough to clean out your sinuses but so complexly flavored that he completely betrays his years of culinary school every time he makes it. And he never minds that you scoop it up in half a bag’s worth of convenience store tortilla chips every time you need that next level comfort. Tonight, you pour absurd amounts of cheap tequila and margarita mix into a novelty pint glass and tap the microwave button to stop the heating cycle before it beeps too loudly across the apartment.
You reach blindly over to grab a spoon out of the drawer and have one plopped into your hand instead. “Jesus Christ!” You hiss, snatching your hand away and just barely managing not to drop the flatware.
The snickering giggle from your right isn’t Santi’s.
“Frankie!” You almost shriek, face splitting into an immediate smile and throwing your arms around his neck without a second lost.
 “Shh! Shhhh, love.” Frankie wraps his arms tight around your waist, breathing in the faded strains of your expensive perfume. “Santi’s sleeping.”
“I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow?” You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, smiling against his skin. He’s already stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers from whatever he’d put on that morning and he looks good enough to eat. Damn the chili, Frankie is a whole three course meal in his own right.
“I rescheduled for an earlier flight.” It sounds almost confessional, the way he quietly whispers in your ear. “I missed you.”
“Mmm,” The hum comes up from the back of your throat. “We missed you, too.”
“Is that why you have the world’s largest and saddest margarita in that glass?” Frankie smirks, raising one eyebrow at the glass on the counter next to your bowl. That awful sugary bottled cocktail mix only sneaks its way into your home when Frankie is away. As a former bartender he finds it fully offensive, but he knows you like sticky sweet drinks.
“Give me a break,” you beg, pouting fiercely. This is why you were having such a big drink tonight – not only because of the day you’d had at work but to empty the bottle before his return. “I had four meetings today, I earned this sugary tequila.”
Frankie knows how hard you work, constantly proving yourself day-in and day-out in an office full of men where you are the best educated in the room but always last to get a new client. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m only teasing.” He plies you with a soft kiss, letting it deepen when you sigh to let him in. Your reunions are like this more often than not now, after almost a decade together. In the beginning you would be fucking against a wall within minutes of the door closing, so desperate to feel each other’s touch again after a business trip or other time away that you had ruined a fair few pieces of clothing in moments of enthusiasm.
Now you linger together and let yourselves melt into each other, usually ending up going to bed early with a bottle of wine. When Santi had become a part of your romantic lives, you had become oddly more domestic, but you all quietly agreed that that was due to age and not a loss of passion. In fact, the only odd thing about it was that it had taken so long. For as close as Frankie and Santi had always been, it had taken the three of you going camping for a long weekend for something to finally happen.
Soft became sensual becomes hungry, and proof of that passion shows itself in you shoving Frankie’s hips against the kitchen counter so you can drop to your knees in front of him in synchrony with his boxers hitting the tiled floor.
“Goddamn.” Frankie’s long, thick fingers flex insistently against the base of your skull, not scratching or pulling, but encouraging as he drinks in the sight of you in the glowing shadow of the flickering living room television.
You have only gotten more gorgeous as you’ve gotten older, growing from an adorable little imp to an elegant and confident woman who owns her curves instead of hiding them. He’s always loved your body in every form, but he loves even more the way you’ve come to love yourself. With that confidence in yourself had come even more confidence as a lover – and he is more than okay with that. He simply wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t show you the vocal appreciation he has for your skills with your tongue. “Fuck, baby girl,” he moans, humming so deeply that he practically purrs.
“You know he’s just going to keep taking more out of town jobs if this is how he gets greeted at home.” Santi’s sleep-thick voice joins the rather obscene sound of your mouth leaving Frankie’s cock and your eyes flick up to Santi with an amused glint.
“Are you trying to tell me that you didn’t give him the same hello?” You tease. These men always make you smile. And moan. They always make you moan.
“Of course not.” Santi’s hand goes to his chest in mock affront before he leans down to nip at your bottom lip. “I gave him a good fuck in the shower. Obviously.”
“And I’m the one who’s spoiling him?” On your knees with Frankie’s length in one hand, you reach for the waistband of Santi’s joggers with the other and feel your smile go lopsided as your eyes grow darker. “I’ll spoil both of you, then.”
“Didn’t mean to wake you up.” Frankie apologizes by pulling Santi in close, untangling one of his hands from your hair only to catch it up in the other man’s equally thick locks as they come together in a kiss. You’ll lavish them with attention here and then they will bring you to bed where they have space to work over every inch of you – the three of you falling asleep in a sweaty pile of satisfied partners.
When Santi had joined your family, you and Frankie had become a little more domestic. You had found the piece of your marriage that you hadn’t known was missing in a clever, loving third partner, and now you can’t imagine your lives without him.
______
Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer
My Masterlist!
205 notes · View notes
qveerthe0ry · 21 days
Text
If You're Crazy Too
Tumblr media
Summary: It isn’t the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you, helping your friend with benefits confess his love for his longtime friend and roommate. But it’s definitely in the top ten. Word Count: 8,600 Pairing: Santi x m!amab!reader x Frankie Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, mutual masturbation, watching porn together, threesome, handjobs, ass eating, oral sex (m receiving), anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up), dirty talk, dom/sub undertones, polyamory Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar thank you both so much, you're angels for helping me through this <3 A/N: Special thanks to the author of this post for making an excellent resource for writing Spanish in fics, it came SO in handy. Also thanks to @triplefrontier-anniversary for inspiring me to finish getting this brainworm all written down before the deadline!
Santi is an incredible fuck. Also, he’s a fairly sweet guy. 
You met him at your favorite club. He’d been dancing with men and women all night long, graceful and respectful, and you itched to get your turn with him. 
When you finally got the chance, his body was solid and sweaty and sure against your own. 
You could barely hear him over the music when he told you, lips brushing over your ear, that he was hoping you’d seek him out. 
He kissed you, after a few songs, and you met it with an eagerness you didn’t even know you had in you. It wasn’t long before he asked you to come back to his place, and he made you fall apart underneath him. 
The morning after wouldn’t have been awkward, either, if his roommate hadn’t been cooking breakfast for the both of you. 
Santi introduced him as “Frankie, or Catfish, or Fish.” He was gorgeous, too, in a softer way than Santi. His brown eyes were wider and less menacing than Santi’s, and his curls peeked out under a well-worn trucker’s cap.
He said it was nice to meet you, and asked how you liked your eggs, and if you were way too loud the night before with Santi, he didn’t mention it. You did, however, catch him sneaking glances at Santi while the three of you ate, and wondered what they meant. 
It didn’t matter much at the time when you thought you’d never see Santi again. But he walked you to your Uber after breakfast, and asked if you maybe wanted to do this again, no pressure, no strings attached. And you did. So you exchanged numbers and he kissed you on the cheek before sending you off. 
You’ve met up with him a few times now. Each time Frankie makes himself scarce. You either hear the TV in his room, or you pass him on your way in, telling you he’s got errands to run. What errands he’s running at 10pm, you’re not sure you want to know, but you don’t think much of it. 
Until now. You knock on the front door of their apartment and hear voices, too muffled to make anything out clearly. 
Santi answers before too long with a smile, and you follow, intent to trail him to his bedroom like you usually do. 
This time, though, Frankie’s sat on the couch in the living room, a beer in his hand, and he looks like someone just kicked his puppy.
“Am I, uh, interrupting something? We can rain check.” 
Frankie looks to you, and then to Santi, and you feel like you have your answer before either of them speak. 
“No, no, you haven’t interrupted anything,” Santi starts, “it’s just our favorite OnlyFans guy released a new video a few days ago and we haven’t had the chance to watch it yet. Fish is a little eager.”
“Fuck you, I’m not. Just thought we were watching it today is all. No big deal.” 
It’s a lot of information to process, that these two not only share a favorite OnlyFans creator, but watch his videos together. And— not to assume, but you’re sure they probably do other things together too. 
“Oh… I mean, I don’t want to ruin your plans.”
“It’s fine—“
Frankie’s reassurance is cut off by Santi though, something that seems like a common occurrence by the way he settles back into his seat and closes his lips when Santi begins to speak. 
“You wanna watch with us? First orgasm of the night, but I promise I’ll make it up to you after.” 
And fuck it, you think. It isn’t quite what you imagined when you left your place, but it doesn’t sound like a terrible way to spend your Friday night. 
“I’m down,” you shrug, and Santi’s eyes crinkle when he smiles and winks at you. 
He turns the lights off while Frankie casts the video to the TV. You settle in the armchair, as Fish looks a little uncomfortable, but he assures you he isn’t when you check in with him. 
Santi takes the opposite side of the couch as Frankie, and then he’s ordering him to start the video. 
The bar on the bottom reads 45:06. Longer than you expected. The video is well-edited with soft royalty-free music over a logo that fades when the man appears on screen. 
You chance a small glance at the couch. You aren’t really sure what the etiquette is here, but neither of them seem to be making any moves yet, hands resting on their own thighs. You mirror them, subtly shifting to do so, and avert your eyes to the television once more. 
The man on the screen is a wicked dirty talker. He spends a good five minutes telling the viewer what he wants done to him. He’s also quite submissive by the sounds of it, which shouldn’t come as a surprise to you. Santi loves the way you submit to him, tells you so every time you hook up. 
You find yourself wondering what Frankie likes in the bedroom, if he’s also just as dominant as Santi, if he’s more sweet or hardened, if he would be vocal like Santi or more reserved like he seems to be in his daily life. 
Before you realize it, the man on the screen is stripping down into a skimpy, lacy set of underthings. His cock is on the smaller side but rock hard and leaking, tenting his little lacy briefs in a deliciously obscene display. Your cock stirs at the sight, and you peek over at the couch again. 
Frankie’s palming the bulge in his sweatpants, eyes glued to the screen so diligently that you think it’s calculated. Santi, in contrast, has his hand under the waistband of his gym shorts already. 
But you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker from the screen, and not to you, but to Frankie, flitting up and down quickly from his face to his lap. 
You try not to sigh too loudly as you cradle your own package, half-hard in your own skimpy briefs you wore just for Santi. You watch as the man on the screen turns his back to the camera and bends over, allows the camera to get a full view of the outline of the plug nestled between his juicy ass cheeks. 
The air in the room feels humid, almost too hot as the video goes on. You definitely get why this guy is their favorite OnlyFans creator. He’s gorgeous, first of all, all lithe muscle, soft in the perfect places. And he’s an incredible performer. He talks to the camera like he’s talking to you, desperate and breathy. It doesn’t take long for your prick to fully fill out in your briefs. 
The camera angle changes on screen. It cuts to him on all fours on the bed, his hole gaping from removing the plug, his pretty pink cock leaking between his legs. A rough grunt from your left has your eyes wandering to the couch again. 
Santi’s cock is out, and the sight alone makes your mouth water. Thick and glistening in his big hand, his balls sat atop the waistband of his shorts. Your own throbs under the pressure of your palm, and you let yourself sneak a look at Frankie, too. 
He’s finally got his hand down his pants, and you almost feel bad for wondering what his cock is like, too. If it would mirror the differences between he and Santi’s bodies, longer but thinner. You wonder if he’s uncut like Santi is, and you wonder what he’d taste like. 
A loud whimper makes you peel your eyes away from the couch and look back at the TV. The guy is three fingers deep in himself, fucking them in along with the messy amount of lube he’s used. It’s fucking hot, and you throw all caution to the wind to unzip your jeans and pull your cock free from its confines. 
“He’s fucking hot right?” 
You turn your head to Santi at the sound of his voice. Your heart picks up at the sight of him, one hand stroking his balls while the other works slowly up and down his shaft. 
You squeeze your own in response. 
“Yeah, not exactly my type but he’s still doing it for me.” 
Santi chuckles, nods his head back to the screen. But before you turn back yourself, you see Fish glance at Santi out of the corner of his eye. He starts to shuffle his waistband down his hips, but you turn away before you see anything you think you shouldn’t. 
The guy on the screen is limber. On his back now, knees pressed to his chest, he’s whining and whimpering while he fucks himself with a big, realistic dildo. 
It’s massive, much bigger than any real cock you’ve taken, but you guess that’s some of the appeal. You try to quietly spit in your hand, then spread it up and down as you lazily stroke yourself off to the video. 
It’s loud. The obscene squelching and consequential moans fill the living room, but not enough that you can’t hear the strokes from both Santi and Frankie on the couch next to you. Occasionally you hear a muffled curse, or a stilted gasp, and you can’t be sure which man they’re coming from but you want to hear more. 
You glance over again. Your eyes land on Santi first, of course, who’s almost shamelessly staring at Frankie’s crotch, the way he lifts his hips to fuck into his fist every few thrusts. 
Frankie’s cock is longer, and thinner, and you’re delighted to find that he isn’t circumcised either, the fat head of his cock disappearing and reappearing from under his foreskin. 
He turns his head, and you stop stroking your cock all together, afraid of Fish’s reaction to you sneaking a peek. Only, when you meet his eyes to shoot him an apologetic look, he’s not looking at you. 
He’s looking at Santi, staring, eyes roaming up and down his body, lingering where he fists his prick, then back up again. You’re stunned still at how intimate it feels, the heat in Frankie’s gaze as he licks his plush lips. 
You turn your eyes back to the video with a pounding heartbeat. Your erection begins to wane as you stare through the TV. You can’t get it out of your mind, the way they look at each other. You’re surprised they haven’t caught each other looking yet. The heat from both of their gazes looked tangible, hungry and yearning. It’s as plain as day to you, on the outside looking in. 
“Ah fuck—” 
The curse is not from Santi. Your eyes trail over just in time to see Frankie pull his shirt up and spill across his stomach. His eyes are closed, head thrown back against the wall behind the couch, and you see Santi’s fist speed up, a blur of tan skin. 
You watch him watch Frankie, unabashed now as Fish’s eyes are shut in bliss, and Santi comes too with a deep hum, closing his own eyes just in time for Frankie to open his and look at the both of you. 
He quickly averts his gaze when he sees you staring, reaches for the tissue box on the coffee table in front of him. In a move that looks so familiar, he pulls out two for himself, and then two for Santi, handing them over with practiced ease. 
Santi pants out a gruff gracias and uses one to clean up with, then holds out his hand to offer you the other. 
“Oh— no thanks, I’m good. Didn’t quite get there.” 
Santi hums, uses the extra tissue to finish wiping himself up. 
“What’s wrong, hermoso? Have I ruined you for all other men?”
His grin is cocky when he asks, tucking himself back into his shorts. 
“Yeah Santi, that’s it.”
You roll your eyes and look over to Fish as if to say this fuckin’ guy, but he’s busy boring a hole into the paused TV screen like his life depends on it. 
Your dick is hanging fairly limp out of your underwear, so you stow it away, pull your jeans back up. 
“Don’t bother,” Santi tells you, nodding his head toward his bedroom, “let me make it up to you now.” 
So with your fly undone, you stand on weary legs and follow Santi to his room. When you make it, you turn back to Frankie, to say thank you or sorry, you can’t be sure, because he’s already closing his own bedroom door behind him. 
Santi makes good on his promise, though. He eats your ass for what feels like hours, until you’re shaking and begging for him to fuck you. And then he does, somehow riding the perfect line between rough and tender, holding your back against his front with one big hand on your chest as you both kneel on the bed. His other hand works your cock so perfectly that you come unglued in a grand way, like you always do with him. 
He cleans you up after, gentle. He’s a huge cuddler, so it doesn’t phase you anymore when he spoons you close and presses his mouth along the little love bites he’s left. 
“You really aren’t into subs, are you? Not even a little bit?” 
You know he’s referencing your lack of interest in the video. You could agree with him, or you could tell him the truth. You’re not sure what to do, and so you sit in silence for some time before you decide to bite the bullet. 
“It isn’t that. I mean, I am more into doms but— that wasn’t it.” 
You feel him go stiff behind you. 
“Shit, was that too weird for you? I didn’t mean to force you into—“
“No! No, Santi, it was fine. I just— you’re into Frankie, right?” 
Air escapes his lungs in something akin to a sob. 
“What!? Why would you say that?”
He’s not denying it, which is a good step. 
“C’mon man, you were watching him more than you were watching the TV.”
“Pendejo, no I wasn’t.” 
“Pendejo” you mock him, “don’t gaslight me. I don’t care. This isn’t, we’re no strings, right? I’m just saying, I don’t wanna come between this thing.”
“There’s no thing to come between. Even if you were right, which you’re not, Fish isn’t into me like that.”
You laugh. 
“O-kay.”
“Don’t ‘okay’ me. How would you know? You’ve known him for a grand total of an hour and a half.” 
“He was looking at you, too. You know that, right? You’re just in denial?”
“I would’ve seen if he was looking at me.”
“Because you were looking at him.”
“Fine! Okay, I was looking at him. He wasn’t looking at me so what’s it even matter?” 
“He was, Santi. He was looking at your cock and licking his lips like he was starved. I saw it.”
Santi huffs behind you, and it tickles your neck. 
“I’m not lying to you. I’m not in love with you or anything but I care about you a little bit.”
His arm around you tightens for a beat.
“Awww, so sweet, querido.”
“Shut up,” you huff, “you’re changing the subject. He was looking at you, like he’s always looking at you. I’ve watched him moon over you every single breakfast I’ve eaten here. You know how bad that makes me feel, eating the breakfast he made me while your cum drips out of me?”
“Fuck, why’d you say it like that? That’s so hot.”
“Because it’s true. If you guys have feelings for each other you need to figure that out before I die of a guilty conscience.”
You can practically feel Santi’s eyes roll behind you. 
“Dramático,” he groans. 
“You do have feelings for him. It seems like he does too. Get your poop in a group about it, man.”
“Will you still stay over? I’ll need a morning fuck if this is the way my weekend’s gonna go.” 
——
I can’t do it. Frankie’s visiting his kid this weekend
The text comes a few hours after you shared your now routine, dysfunctional family breakfast, where Fish was indeed making googly eyes at Santi, and Santi’s cum was indeed leaking out into your underwear.
Likely story
No really. I don’t want to mess with his vibes, his kid is super important to him. It’s cute.
Oh my god just fuck him already
I’m TRYING okay? Can you help? I need moral support.
And look, it isn’t the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you, helping your friend with benefits confess his love for his longtime friend and roommate. But it’s definitely in the top ten. 
So the two of you devise a plan. It’s convoluted as all hell, but also fairly simple. The next time their OnlyFans guy posts a video, Santi invites you over to watch again. Conveniently, just before you arrive, he spills a glass of red wine all over the seat of the armchair, and soaks the cushion trying to get the stain out of the beige fabric. 
You show up, ‘none the wiser.’ Still, the vibes are absolutely weird in their two bedroom apartment. Frankie’s fidgeting on the couch, and Santi misses your cheek and plants a kiss to your eyelid. You have to get these boys together. 
The plan goes off without a hitch from there. Santi flicks off the lights, and Frankie casts the video to the TV, just like they did last time, just like they’ve probably done dozens of times before. But now, the armchair is out of commission, so you all squeeze together on the couch. Santi’s in the middle, of course, his thick thigh pressing against your own as you all point your attention to the flatscreen. 
You’re kind of excited. It’s a weird thing for you to be excited about, but you weren’t lying all those days ago. You do care for Santi. And Fish too, really, if only for the delicious breakfasts he makes, and for making Santi happy. 
This time, you don’t wait for any of their cues. You pull your cock out as soon as the OnlyFans guy starts stripping his clothes. Santi grabs your hand, and for a second you think you’ve ruined the plan. But then spits into it, and Frankie groans from Santi’s other side as he watches the display. You moan a little too, partly for show, partly for the way Santi never fails to make your dick rock hard in record time. 
You stroke yourself, and it goads the boys into pulling their pants down, too. The guy on the screen is doing things a little differently this time, fingering a see-through fleshlight as he lubes it up. This is hotter to you, anyway. It doesn’t take long at all for pre-cum to gather at your slit and slick your strokes even more. 
By the time the guy is fucking into it with timid strokes, whimpering through the speakers, Santi still hasn’t made a move. You elbow him in the side, and he flinches, then elbows you right back. 
You turn your head toward him, make like you’re kissing his neck, because Frankie’s eyes are about to pop out of his skull with the way he’s got them trained on Santi. 
“Go on. You already have an audience,” you whisper. 
Santi shudders, and Frankie looks away. Just in time, too. Santi eyes the way Fish is stroking himself, and then you hold your breath as Santi lifts his hand and wraps it around the base of Frankie’s cock. 
“Ohmyfuckinggod.”
Frankie’s head thunks against the wall behind him, and his hips jolt up into the touch. You’re watching without any hesitation now, and Fish’s eyes are closed anyway. Santi squeezes and Frankie whimpers and scrambles to find Santi’s cock without looking. 
“Fuck, Fish. Yeah?”
Santi’s voice is dripping with arousal, low and gruff, his cock twitching in Frankie’s grasp. 
“Please, please.”
Frankie finally opens his eyes, lets his head loll to the side to look at Santi. But his eyes quickly flutter to you, his expression twisting up in confusion. 
“Santi, what—“
“Shhh, hermano, s’okay.”
You lean forward, and for a moment you’re having an out-of-body experience, watching yourself cradle into Santi’s side, not knowing if you’re helping or hurting their cause, but wanting to reassure them both that this is a good thing.
Frankie takes the encouragement for what it is, allowing himself to fuck up into Santi’s fist and look at him with hooded eyes, mouth gaping open. 
Like a fish, you think, and chuckle against Santi’s neck. 
“What’s happening? Why?”
Frankie looks between the two of you for an answer, and you bite down on Santi’s earlobe to goad him to answer. 
“He caught you looking, last time. Caught me looking at you, too. Put two and two together for me. This okay?”
Frankie shudders and closes his eyes, but nods his head. 
You watch both of them, their hands on each other’s pricks, their hips meeting the thrust of foreign fists. 
“Waited so long,” Frankie whispers. 
“Lo sé, me too.”
Their faces inch toward each other, and you nuzzle the curls at the nape of Santi’s neck. To encourage him, or maybe to shield your eyes from the intimate moment, or probably both. 
You feel the kiss, the way Santi’s neck cranes and flexes, and you hear the ragged moans from their lungs, and you are rock hard.
But your work here is done. You may need to jerk off in Santi’s bathroom before you leave, lest you tumble down the apartment stairs since there’s hardly any blood flow to anywhere other than your dick. 
But as you make to get up, Santi’s free hand plants firmly on your thigh. You still behind him, a rush of awkwardness flushes through your system. 
His head leans back when he pulls away from the kiss, and you watch the way Frankie physically recovers from it, takes a big lungful of air and slowly opens his eyes, licks the taste of Santi from his lips. 
“What do you think, Fish? Should we thank him?” 
Your cock throbs where it’s pressed against Santi, and you feel him chuckle, but Frankie’s nodding his head fast and looking straight at you. 
“Yeah, yes,” he answers, breathless. 
“My bedroom or yours, hermano?”
“I couldn’t give any less of a shit.”
They both laugh, and you find it in you to huff, but it’s anything but authentic when all you can think about is having these two men in bed with you, thanking you. 
“Go get comfy, yeah? We’ll be there in a minute,” Santi tells you. 
You’ve never moved more swiftly in your life, and you’re sure it looks so graceful, walking to Santi’s room with your hard prick swaying in the wind. But you, like Frankie, couldn’t give any less of a shit. 
You undress in the now familiar bedroom, lie back on freshly washed sheets as you hear Santi and Frankie mumble, incoherent all the way out in the living room. Your heart rate picks up when you hear footsteps, but only one pair, and Santi struts in. You can hear rustling from beyond the door, a kitchen cabinet opening and closing. 
“He‘a grabbing us some waters. I wanted to check in, make sure this is all okay? I know it wasn’t the plan.”
Now you laugh. 
“Is it okay? Do I want two gorgeous men thanking me for squishing their heads together like Barbie dolls? It’s more than okay.”
Santi clicks his tongue at you. 
“No need for the sass.”
Your blood runs cold at his tone shift, even as his lips quirk up just the tiniest bit at each corner. 
Frankie walks in, then, and almost looks startled by the staring match happening. Still, he wades further into the room, sets a few glasses of water down on the nightstand. 
You’re suddenly feeling self-conscious, naked and spread out on the bed in front of these two men, fully clothed and practically leering at you. Frankie’s not so shy now; you can feel his eyes on you as they roam across every inch of exposed skin. It’s a heated, tense moment that only breaks when Santi tugs Frankie to him by the hem of his shirt. 
Christ, is it hot to watch, the way Fish’s body goes lax as Santi’s tenses, grabbing the back of his neck. His strong arm flexes as his hand gets lost in Frankie’s curls. They share a kiss that looks like less lips and more teeth. Then Santi’s sliding his hands under Frankie’s shirt, along his flanks, exposing smooth, tan skin. 
They part to fling their shirts off, and you can’t help it, you reach down to touch yourself. You’re watching something beautiful. Their dance is stilted with novelty but still looks so easy, familiar in an unfamiliar way. 
Their noses bump together awkwardly at times, but their hands map out patterns across each other’s bodies that look practiced, like they’ve done this thousands of times before, if only in their dreams. 
And they look incredible together. Santi’s thick and bulky, skin so taught over his frame. And Frankie is leaner, corded muscle covered in softer flesh. It looks so squeezable. It is, you find out, second-hand, by the way Santi grabs him by the hips and pulls him closer, just to push him away to get his pants down. 
They don’t part for long, and you’re stuck in this haze, a participant only by the way you’re sliding your hand lazily up and down your shaft while you watch them. Santi hasn’t waxed since you first met him, and now all that chest hair is growing in, a stark contrast to Fish’s hairless one. And you know it feels incredible, to be in Frankie’s position, getting scratched by all that wiry hair. You know his own hairless chest will be red and splotchy by the time the night ends, like yours has been countless nights before. 
Finally, they come up for air, naked and heaving breaths across each other’s faces as they share a look. Santi raises his strong brow, tilts his head in your direction, and you’re snapped out of your voyeuristic state. 
“Let’s show some gratitude, yeah?” 
His voice is all low and hoarse, and you watch it affect Frankie in the same way it affects you, cocks jumping. And fuck, Fish does exactly as he’s told once Santi coaxes him with a playful slap to his ass. He crawls up between your legs, and his full lips are even more so now, bitten and slick and deep red. Glancing up at you with those long, pretty, fluttery lashes, his sweet brown eyes are all heavy-lidded and hesitant. 
“This is okay?” 
His voice is small, and he’s so goddamn perfect. 
“Yes, Frankie. Please.”
You both exhale at the same time, and then he gets to it, immediately. His tongue hangs out of his mouth when he opens it wide, and he wastes no time sinking down on your prick. 
“Jesus Christ, Fish.” 
You damn near give yourself whiplash to look over to Santi, frozen in place next to the bed, eyes glued to where you and Frankie connect. The latter moans around your cock, encouraged to bob his head faster already, take you deeper. 
“Knew you’d be such a good little cocksucker with those pretty lips. Fuck.” 
It’s so hot, it’s too hot. You’re going to blow in record time with the warmth of Frankie’s mouth and the filth Santi is reciting. 
He must see it in your face, the panic of this all being over way quicker than you want it to be. He kneels on the bed beside you both, gets a hand in Fish’s silky curls and you see the shudder that cascades down his body. 
“Not a race, hermano,” Santi says, tugging at his hair to get him to lift off of your leaking prick. 
Fish stares, wide-eyes and ragged breathing, as Santi arranges himself to lie beside him, both of their faces now inches from your throbbing cock. 
“Control freak,” Frankie mumbles, but the smile on his face makes any heat from his words dissipate.
Santi punishes him with a bruising kiss anyway. Your hips jolt as Frankie’s hair brushes across your dick, so on-edge that even that whisper of a touch sends you reeling. 
Santi chuckles around Fish’s bottom lip that he’s got between his teeth. 
“He so sensitive, Fish. Gotta take it slow, alright?” 
It makes your entire body burn, the way he’s talking about you like you’re not even there. The way he’s been guiding Frankie through everything so far, and the way Frankie follows so obediently. 
Santi shuffles a bit, and Fish does too, so in-sync that you almost laugh. Their unplanned choreography has them both straddling one of your legs respectively, arms in between, their hands finding each other just close enough to your heavy sac that you can feel the heat coming off of them. 
They both look up at you, and for a moment everything is so eerily perfect that it feels like you’re in some sick, twisted Truman Show remake, and this was all a ploy to get you into bed with them. 
But then Santi looks at Frankie, a soft bueno? uttered toward him, and Frankie nods. Santi leans in, for what you assume is to kiss him more, but his nose brushes the base of your shaft. And then Fish leans in too, his own strong nose nuzzling just under your head. 
Your hands find purchase on the backs of their necks, a light touch to ground yourself as you watch. It’s so fucking intimate, and you’re the catalyst for their exploration, and it’s driving you up the goddamn wall. Your curse and watch twin grins break out on their faces. 
Shitheads, both of them. 
They continue on with this dance, breathing in your scent as they nose up and down your cock. Their eyes open and close, but their gazes always seem to land on each other at the same time. 
And then Santi leads, licking a long stripe up the side of you. Frankie follows eagerly once he catches on, meeting him for a sloppy dance of tongues all over the head of your dick, your frenulum, lapping up the pre-cum that’s been steadily leaking from your slit. 
It jerks wildly under their loose attention, and Frankie chuckles deep and low as he chases your cock and Santi’s mouth at the same time. Your nails start to bite into their napes, the burning in your gut becoming far too intense. 
“Guys,” you gasp, “I— fuck. I can’t.” 
Santi hums, leaves a playful nip at the base of your prick that nearly sends you over the edge. Fish lets up, intent to lick up every last drop of your taste from Santi’s mouth, and groans when he succeeds.
You’re all left panting for a minute. You can’t decide who to look at. Santi’s head has fallen onto your thigh, and Frankie’s propped up on an elbow, staring down at him, all along the dips and curves of his tan skin. Santi gets a hand around Fish’s cock, thumbing under the head in slow circles, soothing and relaxed. 
“Everyone still having a good time?” 
Santi’s tone implies he already knows the answer. A weak Jesus, yes huffs out of your vocal chords, just as Frankie nods his head eagerly where it rests in his palm. 
Santi cranes his neck to look up at you, and already you know you’re in for it, a wicked glint in his eyes. 
“You want Fish to fuck you?” 
Your cock throbs near their heads, and Frankie snorts. 
“Think that’s a yes, huh?”
You answer Fish with a nod. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone but Santi. The thought shorts out all the wires in your system as you realize you get to learn him this way, what he’s into, what he’ll want to do to you, and how different it is from his counterpart. 
“All fours, both of you. He’ll let you eat his ass for hours, Fish,” Santi instructs. 
“Jesus.”
If it weren’t for the way Frankie scrambles to get into position, you’d ask if he was alright with it. But once he’s hovering on his hands and knees between your legs, he’s manhandling you to do the same, and you love it.
Your cock sways and leaks between your thighs, and Fish pulls and tugs to get you exactly how he wants you. You feel even more exposed than usual like this, with these two men behind you. He spreads you open for him, and you feel your hole clench and relax as it’s exposed to the humid air of the bedroom. 
Then he spits, perfectly aimed, and you feel his saliva trickle all the way down your taint, tickling your balls as it drips onto the sheets. 
A puff of hot air is all the warning you get before his tongue is following that same trail in reverse, all the way up to where your crack meets your back, and then back down, and your elbows buckle and so does your resolve. 
You moan a mix of curses and Frankie’s name, and it only eggs him on, gets him to zero in on your rim with his tongue, circling then flicking, over and over. 
You try to crane your neck enough to see Santi when you hear him swear. 
“You really fuckin’ like this. Don’t you, Fish?” 
All you can see is his tight curls behind Frankie’s own arched back, and his big hands wrapped around Frankie’s slender hips. 
You feel Frankie answer him, an incoherent groan into your asshole as the tip of his tongue breaches you. 
You’re on fire. Your cock is leaking a really pathetic stream onto Santi’s bedding, neglected, and you know you won’t come without any friction, but you also don’t want to. Not for a while, not until you get to feel Frankie’s cock inside you, get to see Santi watch him fuck you. 
You’re anything but impatient, though. Santi was right, the smug asshole. You could keep Fish here for eternity, especially with how fucking diligent his tongue is, lapping you up and pressing inside of you, over and over. It’s dizzying, especially when he begins making desperate noises against you. 
You know he’s in for the time of his life. Santi, as smug as he is, loves eating your ass ‘for hours.’ He’s fucking sloppy with it, and he does this thing with his thumbs that drives you—
“Fuck! Ay dios, Pope, what the fuck?”
Frankie falls lax into you, his nose against your hole and his lips brushing your taint as he curses. 
“Yeah, you like that? Want me inside this cute little ass?” 
Fish whines, shifts his face so he can bite the tender flesh where your thigh and ass meet, and all you can do is groan and push back into him as he gives Santi his answer. 
“Damelo, need you, please.”
Santi hums, and you can tell by how it’s muffled that his mouth is once again occupied. Frankie recovers, though his tongue is much less coordinated now, a messy flurry of licks as he prods at your entrance. 
Then you hear it, the click of a bottle opening, bouncing off the bedroom walls in a familiar way. You clench around Frankie’s tongue, a Pavlovian response, and he groans and fits his lips around your hole and sucks. 
You’re babbling now, strings of nonsense, begging, and praise in the otherwise silent bedroom. You know the exact moment Santi sinks his thick finger inside of Frankie, because you feel him stiffen and shake against you, feel his nails dig into the meat of your cheeks where he’s spreading you open. 
His mouth retreats, and you whine, but he’s tugging on you again to get you to lie on your back. 
It’s a fucking sight when you’re finally able to watch. Fish has his back arched like a goddamn cat, presenting his ass to Santi, mouth gaping open at his skilled fingers.
Santi’s looking over him, one large hand splayed out on his back to keep him still as he fucks into him with what you assume is at least three fingers, the way Frankie’s drool is dripping from the corner of his mouth. Santi’s eyes are glued to his ministrations, where he’s slowly thrusting in and out, his big bicep flexing as he goes. 
He manages to tear his eyes away, though, to look at you and wink. 
“How’d he do? Think he deserves to fuck you, papi?”
You whimper at the mere thought of it, finally feeling him inside you. 
You shake your head, but Santi tuts. 
“Yeah— Yes, Santi. He did so good.” 
Santi’s lips tilt up into a wicked smirk.
“There he is, that’s it, tell Francisco how good he is for us, huh?”
You see Frankie’s cock throb between his legs, hear a pathetic little noise fall from his lips. You and Santi both get a curious but delighted look on your faces at his reaction. 
“Did so good, Francisco.” 
He shivers, hides his face in the bedding between your thighs for a hot minute. A lungful of air escapes him, slow and methodical, before he tilts his head back to Santi. 
“Lube?” 
Santi huffs, tosses the bottle next to Fish’s head. 
“Doesn’t take long for him. He likes the stretch, don’t you bebito?”
You huff, and your face feels hot and prickly as both men look at you. You squirm, and you don’t want to answer, you want at least a tiny bit of pride going into this, because you know you’re bound to come out the other side with absolutely none. 
“He asked you a question,” Frankie says. 
His gruff voice makes your breath catch. 
Santi hums his approval behind him. 
“Yeah, yeah, just— just two, give me two and I’ll be good.”
“What do you say, papi?” 
And Jesus, this is the most Frankie’s said all night and it has your toes curling. 
“Please, Frankie.”
He makes a patronizing, satisfied noise that makes you want to hide but also expose yourself even more. You want to give him everything, him and Santi, let them use you to get their pleasure however they want. 
But then Fish groans, and you see Santi’s arm twisting behind him, reaching for that perfect spot. He makes a mess squirting lube out onto his fingers, and you at least have enough control of your faculties to lift your sac out of the way so Frankie can spread it across your hole. 
It twitches under his fingers, begging, and so are you, just incoherent babbles as he teases you, toys with you. You think you maybe could wait him out, knowing he doesn’t get his until his cock is pressed inside you, but you don’t want to. 
“Fuck,” you whimper, “please fuck me.” 
“Yeah, good boy, there you are.” 
You open your eyes at Santi’s voice. 
“Give him what he wants, Fish. Give it to him so I can fuck you.” 
Two fingers, right off the bat, pressed in slowly but surely in one swoop to the knuckle. You cry out, reaching for purchase and finding the bedsheets to twist into your clenched fists. 
“You’re okay, you can take it, right?” 
And it’s so goddamn mind-blowing, Santi talking you through it with Frankie’s fingers deep inside you.
You nod, opening your eyes again to look up at him. His eyes are so dark, and he’s stroking his thick cock as he continues stretching Fish out, and he looks hungry. He licks his lips and watches where Frankie’s fucking into you, boring holes where you’re connected. You have to reach down with your free hand and squeeze the base of your prick to get yourself together. 
It doesn’t take long for you to adjust, to relax around his digits with a few deep breaths. He praises you, that’s it, take ‘em so well, wanna be fucked so bad don’t you? Your head spins with it as he works you open. Little by little your legs spread wider for him, hips canting up to direct him to the spot inside you that you want him to reach so desperately. 
But he doesn’t. Once it’s obvious you’re ready to take him, he slips his fingers out and wipes the residue on the inside of your thigh. 
“Gonna take me now?” 
It’s a rhetorical question, obviously, as he grips behind your knees and pushes them to your chest. You answer anyway, your own voice so foreign to your ears as you plead for him. 
Santi shushes you, and that familiar noise is calming enough to bring you back down to Earth, where he’s resting behind Frankie, one hand caressing his chest while the other grips his waist. 
“Wanna be inside you, Fish,” he mumbles, nose pressed behind his ear, lips teasing his earlobe. 
Fish’s eyes close, but he guides the head of his dick to your entrance and sinks in, blinding pressure as the head of him stretches you wide. When it slips past, you both gasp, and Santi groans into Frankie’s neck as he watches. 
It feels like years, waiting for him to seat himself all the way inside you. It burns in the best way, friction that has goosebumps dotting every square inch of skin. 
But then his thighs reach the backs of yours. He curses, moves your legs out of the way so he can cover your body with his own. Santi’s gaze is heavy where it falls, the place you and Frankie are fused together, as he spreads a healthy dollop of lube over his prick. 
“Ready for me, baby?” 
It’s palpable, the way the energy of the room shifts when Santi presses closer behind Frankie. Like he’s about to step off a ledge, Fish’s eyes widen and he looks at you with his brows drawn up tight. You reach for his curls, run your fingers through them, scrape your nails across his scalp in hopes that it evens out his breathing a bit. 
Past Frankie’s shaking form, Santi’s expression is nearly identical. His bottom lip is caged between his teeth, brow furrowed, shoulders squared. His eyes flicker to you, and his features soften just a fraction before his hips begin to press forward. 
Frankie sobs at first contact. His sweaty forehead falls to your chest. His cock is jerking inside you, rhythmic pulses as you watch Santi’s hips slowly inch forward. 
“Relax for me, Fish. Deep breaths, baby. I’ve got you, take it for me.”
Santi sounds so wrecked. His voice is wispy, and so deep you can hardly hear from the bass in it. He’s never really sounded this way before, and the reality of this entire situation makes you clench around Frankie’s throbbing cock. 
Santi curses in whispers, and you watch the sweat from his forehead drip down, between his eyes, down his nose, and drip onto Frankie’s heated skin. And then Frankie shifts, pulling out of you. And then, you realize, pressing Santi’s cock deeper inside himself. 
You groan at the revelation, chase Fish’s hips with your own, a domino effect that sets both of them off as well. It doesn’t take much at all for them to find the right pace, like this is just as natural as everything else they do together. For a while you just take it in, let Frankie get his pleasure from you, let them discover the feeling of being so close to each other after a long while of only imagining. 
Santi’s signature filthy mouth doesn’t make an appearance. Instead, he looks stunned silent above the both of you. His mouth hangs open like he wants to say something, but all that leaves his lips are grunts and groans that Frankie echoes into your sternum. His eyes don’t know where to look, so they float between where he’s fucking Frankie, and your own roaming eyes, and finally land where your hand grips Frankie’s hair. 
He lets go of one of Fish’s hips to tangle his fingers with your own, tugging on those chestnut curls. Frankie slams his hips into you at the sensation, bites down on the meat of your pec and keens before he lets Santi’s grip pull his head back. 
His eyes are completely fucking black, no iris to be found when his heavy eyelids open to look at you. And it’s a very strange thing, when you watch him look right through you and call out Santi’s name. 
Strange, but fucking hot. 
“Let it happen, Fish.”
“No. I– I can’t.”
“You can, fuck, don’t hold it. Come inside so I can fuck it out of him.”
Frankie crumbles. You watch it happen, his eyes snapping shut as he chokes on a high-pitched sound. His face twists up, and you feel his hips stutter against you as he starts chanting Santi’s name, over and over. His cock jerks with every wave of his release, and he’s shaking, collapsing dead-weight on top of you. 
“That’s it, did so good. Feel so fucking good squeezing me Fish.” 
You’re momentarily squished by the weight of two grown men when Santi rests against Frankie’s back. He kisses where he can reach, soothing the place on his scalp where he was tugging at the hairs. 
“Mierda, Santi, get off you fucking oaf.” 
And it’s cute, the way Frankie gets so grumpy even after he’s just come his brains out. You ruffle his hair, when he’s finally not sandwiched between you two, let him collapse beside you instead with a sweaty arm draped across your middle. 
You only have a few moments to appreciate the tenderness before Santi’s lifting your leg onto his shoulder pressing his thick fingers inside you. The noise is obscene, and Santi swears as Frankie’s cum trickles out of you. 
You know you’re in for it now. Santi sets his jaw and arranges your hips so he can slide right into you. You moan at the feeling, and the knowledge of where his cock has just been, noises tumbling out of you as he picks up the pace where Frankie left off. 
And you almost forget about Fish, caught up in the pleasure of Santi railing you just how he knows you like. But then a warm, trembling hand wraps around your cock, even though Santi’s own are gripping onto you tight, and it’s heaven. 
“Let me see you come,” Frankie says, voice all hoarse and worn out. 
You whine, loll your head to the side to look at him. 
But this time Santi’s hand is grabbing you, just shy of too rough when he takes your chin in his hand. 
“You look at me. Look at me when I make you come, papi.” 
And you take it as an order, because Frankie’s hand speeds up and squeezes tighter, and Santi’s fucking into you deep and fast like he does when he’s about to come. 
You shake with it when it finally happens. Your spend splashes down Fish’s knuckles, up your stomach, your chest, christ some of it even lands on your chin. And you know you’re babbling but you don’t know what words you’re using, only know that they come from high in your throat as you gasp for air. 
Santi follows you so closely, burying himself impossibly deep as he releases. You hear Frankie encouraging him, but the sound is miles away as your head swims in that familiar, blissful place. 
When the ringing in your ears settles, and your vision unblurs, and all your nerve endings don’t feel like they’re on fire anymore, Santi’s cock has been replaced by his tongue. You give a weak protest at the overstimulation as his greedy mouth licks the mess out of you. It doesn’t matter, he comes up for air just as soon as you realize where he’s at. 
Your bleary eyes watch as Santi leans over you, grabs Fish’s face in his hands and tugs at his bottom lip with one of his thumbs. Frankie opens his mouth, obedient as ever, and then a mix of Santi’s cum and his own is tumbling from Santi’s lips into Fish’s mouth. 
Once the damage has been done, an image that will forever be burned into your mind, Santi lets his lips press against Frankie’s. He kisses him deep but slow, savoring the concoction of tastes, until Frankie has to lean back for air. 
And then it’s silent, and still, and a pit of dread makes itself known in your gut in record time. 
“I’ll grab us some towels. Don’t either of you move a muscle.” 
Frankie huffs but stays put. You shake out some of the tensed-up muscles in your legs, grasping for something to say to break the tension. 
Turns out you don’t have to. 
“Bossy little prick,” Frankie mumbles. 
It makes a giggle bubble up out of you, even though it’s not even that funny. You suppose the nervous energy needed out somehow. 
“Don’t know what you see in him,” you agree. 
Frankie hums, tilts his head like he’s contemplating it. 
“I’m kidding. He’s sweet. You’re a lucky guy, so is he.” 
You’re interrupted when Santi reenters, two fluffy towels in hand. You tidy up as best you can, then sigh when you no longer have anything to occupy your hands with. 
“Stay the night?”
And this time, those familiar words are uttered by Frankie. It surprises you. For a moment you think he’s just being nice, appeasing you. But his brown eyes do that same thing that Santi’s do, where they get all wide and watery and it’s impossible to say no. 
So you snuggle under the covers, and it’s a bit awkward at first with an extra set of limbs. Santi takes his coveted position as big spoon, but this time behind Fish. Then Frankie coaxes you closer, a hand at your back to urge you to rest your head on his outstretched arm. 
The three of you talk about how hard you’re all going to sleep, and you close your eyes and listen to two other sets of breaths. You let it lull you to the edge of consciousness. Just before you slip under, Santi’s voice is deep and smooth. 
“Te amo.”
And Frankie’s whisper is just as silky. 
“Te amo.”
In the morning, you all wake up slow, and take care of business, and mosey out into the kitchen. It’s natural to watch Frankie make eyes at Santi over his eggs, but you know that Santi’s routine walk to your Uber will be anything but. 
Their apartment door slams heavy behind you two as you head to the normal pick-up spot. 
“So this is probably it, huh?”
You have to force yourself to look at Santi’s face, squinting in the mid-morning sun. 
His brows draw up, and you really hope he doesn’t make this anymore awkward than it needs to be. 
“It doesn’t have to be, no.”
His head shakes back and forth with his declaration, and you almost flinch when he reaches for your hand. 
“Listen. Give us some time, you know? Let us… figure… this out. Once we settle, I wanna see you again. Fish does too.” 
You’re sure your face is doing something funny, because Santi laughs and pushes you. 
“Not gonna get rid of us that easy, cabrón.”
115 notes · View notes
pedropascalito · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pedro loves being on set with his buckle undone or what?
Tumblr media
401 notes · View notes
kissingandromeda · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I can't even tell you how exciting this is
923 notes · View notes
haylzcyon · 1 year
Text
Thirds
Tumblr media
Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader
Summary: After two dates with Frankie Morales, he invites you to keep him company at work.
WC: 3k
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI new boyfriend Frankie!, alcohol consumption, reference to masturbation, workplace sex, oral sex (f receiving), *praise*, Frankie gets a little bit needy, protected p-in-v sex, floor sex
A/N: Um. Hi, SO this may or may not be based on a personal experience (if you know me irl, no you don't) and I definitely had an absolute blast writing it. It is self indulgent as *h e l l* and not beta’d as I wrote it in like 3 hours and now I'm giving it to you. Enjoy, sluts (affectionate). 
A03
F: "What are you up to?" 
You let out a snort at the text on your screen, shaking your head when you check the time: 12:04am. Was he really doing this right now? 
It's been a few weeks since you first met Frankie. You had been relieved when your coworker, Lily, invited you to a movie night at her apartment - ever since you had moved to a new city for work, you hadn't had much time to make friends.
What she had failed to inform you was that the remainder of the guest list consisted only of couples, minus one: Francisco Morales. His friends call him Catfish, you suppose for the whiskers that cover his upper lip and most of his jaw. 
Unsure how to feel after walking blind into what was effectively a set up - made clear to you by Lily and her boyfriend Santiago's waggling eyebrows - you'd been comforted at least to find Frankie had been just as oblivious. 
Hanging out with friends in relationships wasn’t something that would typically bother you, but you didn't know anyone there besides Lily - and she was very much preoccupied with her man.
For just shy of an hour, you'd been avoiding the dark living room filled with people cuddled up with their significant others while a well-known actress screamed on the television, and were debating how easy it would be to let Lily know you were leaving without her fighting back when he found you in the kitchen snacking on the charcuterie.
"Not a fan of scary movies?" he'd asked, leaning against the refrigerator and tilting his beer bottle upright to take a large drink.
"I am, actually," you replied, eyes still trained on the spread in front of you until you picked up a grape, popped it in your mouth, and turned to face him. 
"Not a huge fan of feeling like a- what is it, a 9th wheel?" you smirked after doing the mental math quickly. 
Frankie chuckled before pursing his lips and tilting his head in agreement, "Right. I mean, I guess I'm kind of used to it at this point. But I didn't realize that's what was going on tonight either, Santi practically dragged me…" 
He trailed off, offering you a bottle from the fridge in favor of finishing his sentence. The beer he’d brought happened to be one of your favorites and the rest of the night found you assisting him in finishing the 6-pack in the kitchen, even after the rest of the party finished their movie and started to trickle out the front door. 
To your slight annoyance, you could see why Lily was trying to set you up. Frankie was funny in a dry sort of way, intelligent and perceptive. After joining you in picking apart the snack board, you teased him for exclusively eating the olives and blue cheese. 
"Well, I can see you've been avoiding those," he said, "I'm just trying to even out the spread, here."
So, yeah. You'd gotten his number, and giggled when, by the time you got home, he had already texted you asking if you'd like to go see a scary movie in theaters the next weekend. The date was fun and comfortable, him only putting his arm around you halfway through the movie and then planting a chaste kiss on your cheek across the center console of his truck when dropping you home afterwards. 
The second date, a few days ago now, was almost as wholesome. The air was crisp and you both bundled up so that he could bring you to his favorite taco truck at the market. You ate and sipped Jarritos at a picnic table before he kissed you in earnest, plush lips that tasted like mandarin meeting yours and making your skin vibrate. 
The windows of his truck were hazy with fog in your driveway when he had cut his hungry kisses short. 
“Mmm, I have to go,” he grumbled, placing his hands on either side of your neck beneath your jaw and dragging a thumb across your cheek. You pouted and exhaled sharply from your nose, at which he chuckled and placed his thumb on your lower lip. 
“Needy thing, huh?” he said under his breath before removing his thumb and placing his lips on yours again, “I’ll let you know as soon as I have my schedule for this weekend, okay?”
You still felt his breathy reply on your skin when you fell apart on your hand that night. 
Taking things this slow was already a challenge for you, but if Frankie was the reward, you were up for the wait. 
Y: "Posted up on the couch, reading a book.
Shouldn't you be asleep?" 
Setting your phone down after hitting send, it vibrated with Frankie’s response before you could open the paperback in your lap again. 
F: “Shouldn’t you?” 
You roll your eyes before another text comes through.
F: “Working 3rd tonight, someone called in.”
Frankie is a pilot, he’d told you, but in the past few months he's been helping Santiago in managing a small security company that mostly dealt in overnight surveillance. 
Y: “I see, and here I thought this was a ‘u up?’ text. Where are you working tonight?”
F: “Lol. Some office complex off 15th Ave. Not far from your house, actually."
Y: “Oh? 15th and Brooks?”
F: “Mhm. Bored.”
He sends you a photo from where he must be sitting in a security office - two computer monitors sit on a desk, segmented into different CCTV footage feeds. His hand is holding an oversized travel coffee cup perched on his knee, and you can’t help but fixate momentarily on the way his fingers look wrapped around it. 
Before you even tap the back button to the text thread, your phone vibrates again.
F: “You could come hang out with me?”
Y: "Is that allowed?" 
F: "Not important." 
You scoff and bite your lip, drafting a response when another text bubble pops up. 
F: "Could be our 3rd date?" 
Heart rate picking up as you furrow your brow, you don't take long to wonder if he's implying what you think he is. 
Y: "I can be there in 20." 
Brushing your teeth, throwing on a fresh pair of leggings and a sweater as fast as you can, you pull into a parking lot that's empty besides Frankie’s truck 16 minutes later. 
He can’t help the wide grin that breaks across his face when he sees your car on the security cameras. Jumping out of the creaky desk chair, nearly spilling his coffee in his haste, he strides into the hallway and to the side door. 
Still in your car and about to send him a text, movement in your peripherals catches your attention and you see Frankie’s figure approaching. He opens your door before you can unbuckle your seatbelt. 
“Oh, hi,” you say, stepping out into the chilly night air as Frankie grabs your hand. A smile that creates wrinkles around his eyes and warmth in your stomach moves across his face.
“Hey. Let’s get you out of the cold.”
Frankie leads you through the side entrance and into the first door on the left once inside. The ceiling lights in the security office are the only ones lit in the building, and you glance down the dark hallway before entering the room, giving him a look with your eyebrows raised. 
“Kinda spooky in here, isn’t it?” you tease, turning to watch as he closes the door that seems much smaller with his wide frame in front of it, “Is that why you requested the company tonight?” 
He smirks and his eyes don’t leave you as he moves from the doorway to the desk. His coffee, many papers and folders and pens litter the desktop, and you step closer as his hands begin to gather everything up and place it all on the floor underneath. 
“Yep. You can protect me, right?” he says, his head half beneath the tabletop. 
You hum through a smile that you’ve pulled between your teeth and Frankie steals a glance at your expression as you watch him clear off the surface. You look amused but incredulous, as if feigning that you haven’t quite figured out what’s going on yet. 
But he knows you’re smarter than that. 
With the surface clean, Frankie swivels back to face you. You place your hands quickly on his shoulders when he grabs your waist, pulling you close and backing you up against the desk. The edge of the desktop hits the curve of your ass, and you use the leverage you have on his shoulders to lift yourself lightly onto it. His hands meet the inside of your knees and he gently slides them apart, giving him the room to stand between them.
Dark brown eyes meet yours when you find them through your lashes, and they hold you in place as large palms roam down to your hips and back up, lifting your sweater just enough to plant them on your bare waist and give a delicate squeeze. Without breaking eye contact, you scoot forward ever so slightly to bring your centers closer, but still inches away.
One of Frankie's hands retreats from beneath your top, planting it flat on the desktop beside you while the other moves to splay against your back. He leans forward, dipping you backwards, eyes darting over your features and memorizing your reactions to him until his lips meet yours. The kiss is soft and sweet, almost out of place in the stifling environment he's managed to create in the few short moments since your arrival. 
Impatience already seeping in from the rolling boil of arousal heavy in your stomach, you reach up to knock Frankie's cap off his head and curl your fingers into his soft, messy hair. Taking the cue, he licks into your mouth so sweet and languidly that you can't hold back from whimpering into his mouth. 
"Fuck, baby," he rasps, finally pulling away from your already kiss swollen lips and chuckling, "I should be straight with you, I might have had that ulterior motive in mind when I asked you to keep me company tonight." 
Your sly smile and a gentle tug on his hair encourages him to dip lower and press his lips to your neck. Tilting your head back to give him better access, you close your eyes and revel in the increasing heat running through your body.
"Oh, really?" you breathe out, a touch of sarcasm in your tone beneath the wantonness, "I might have- no, definitely had a similar motivation for coming." 
Frankie hums into your neck before making his way up to your ear, bringing your lobe between his lips and making you gasp. The sound from you elicits a similar response from him, and the feeling of his hot breath in your ear sends even more sparks down your spine. 
Blood roaring in your ears, you barely catch his deep voice reply, “Glad we’re on the same page.”
Lips crashing into yours, Frankie’s hands are no longer delicate. His fingertips reach the hem of your sweater and he removes his mouth from yours only long enough to pull it up over your head. He groans softly to see you hadn’t worn anything underneath, and his hands are suddenly everywhere all at once. 
He has a fleeting moment of potential regret over his first time with you being like this, but his overwhelming need to touch you, to feel you, is only bolstered by the small noises you keep making. You’re so responsive to his touch - every press off his lips to yours and the skin surrounding them, every knead of his fingers into your flesh stoking the fire and tightening something fierce inside your core. 
Leaning in and kissing you hard enough to push you further back until your head bumps the wall, Frankie’s fingers find your waistband and gently begin removing your leggings. You raise your hips to assist and you watch his face in satisfaction when he lets out a sharp exhale, finding you hadn’t bothered to wear anything underneath those, either. 
Your sneakers are still on, but before you can attempt to kick them off and finish removing your pants, he drops to his knees and ducks beneath them, placing your thighs on his shoulders and himself between the desk and your crossed ankles.
His pupils are blown, eyes dark with lust and reverence as he pulls your body towards him until you’re spread open on the edge of the desktop.
“Christ, look at you. So fuckin’ gorgeous.”
Elbows already weak from holding yourself up to watch him, you almost crumple with the first drag of Frankie’s tongue along your clit. Throwing your head back, you focus on your breathing just to keep from coming immediately. 
“Fuck, Frankie…” you whine, and you feel him smile as he hums into your core in response. He pulls back after what is likely only a few minutes, but has felt like hours, wrapping his arm around your thigh to work you with his thumb and you meet his gaze. 
His chest is heaving, mouth covered in your slick when he grits out seriously, “Don’t you dare hold back on me, baby. Give me whatever you’ve got, okay?”
Biting your lower lip, you nod emphatically back at him, and almost exactly when his mouth is back on your clit, you’re cresting. Knees snapping tight around his head and hips undulating in time with his tongue, you let out a silent cry until oxygen returns to your lungs and Frankie is placing soft kisses on the inside of your thigh.
Still catching your breath, Frankie moves slower than before, untangling himself from your legs and gently removing your sneakers to rid you of your leggings while you gather the strength to sit up straight. It’s now that you realize he’s still fully clothed in front of your naked form on the desk - a situation you decide needs remedying quickly, no matter how electrifying the vulnerability of it feels. 
Sliding off the desk and onto your bare feet, you make a wobbly step forward and into him, pulling his face to yours and kissing him fiercely as you slip your hands down his body to the impressive hardness you feel against you. You struggle with his belt before he smiles into your mouth and removes your hands, unlatching the buckle himself and removing a condom from the pocket of his jeans before dropping them. Grabbing the hem of his shirt instead, his clothes are removed in another instant and he’s pulling you with him down to the carpet. 
Once he’s rolled the latex down his length, his palms lay softly against your shoulders to push you onto your back, but you grab his wrists and push back until he’s laid down beneath you. Straddling his hips and splaying your palms on the planes of his chest, you grind your soaked center over his cock as he digs fingers into the flesh of your ass. The groans Frankie makes into your mouth when you lean down are filthy and encourage the pace of your hips, moving them faster over him until the absence of him inside of you is unbearable. 
Reaching between you, you use your fingers to line him up to your entrance and sink down in one swift movement. You still once bottomed out, taking a beat to adjust to the stretch of him and admire the look in his eyes now that he’s snug inside of you. 
“Fuck, feel so fucking good,” he slurs, and you smile into his lips, slipping your tongue into his mouth and just barely rolling your hips. 
“Please- baby,” he says between kisses, his tone pleading as your name falls from his lips and causes you to clench around him. You can’t wait any longer, either. 
Keeping your chest pressed against his and your fingers in his hair, you lift your hips until only the head of his cock is still inside you before dropping them. His mouth drops open and his eyes close as you repeat the motion a few times before pressing your hands to his chest again and pushing yourself upright. He finally cracks open his eyes to watch your form bouncing rhythmically above him through heavy lids, keeping his length inside you until your breathing gets heavier and your movements more sporadic. 
When you put your hands on the tops of his thighs behind you and start rolling your hips instead, he’s quick to remove his hands from your waist - one thumb finding a nipple and the other your clit, working you at the same pace your hips are moving. Your orgasm comes slower this time, but with no less intensity. 
“That’s it baby, god, look so fuckin' good like this,” the praise falls from his lips as you start to ride out your high on his cock. When you go boneless over him, Frankie sits up straight to support you as you flutter around him and bring him closer to the edge than he thought he was. 
It takes your hands on his cheeks, your eyes gazing directly into the pools of brown in his, and a few more thrusts before Frankie is emptying himself inside you. You stare in amazement at his expression, so incredibly fucked out and beautiful, until he’s finished and rolling you onto your back. 
He barks out an easy laugh at your small whine when he pulls out and turns to remove the condom, raising his eyebrows and smirking at you. 
“Still needy, huh?” he teases, and you laugh and roll your eyes - not bothering to mention that he was the one pleading beneath you just minutes ago. 
After a few more kisses and plenty of giggling when Frankie refuses to let you redress yourself, he finally walks you out to your car at 2:00. Fatigue hits fast now that you’re sitting in your car, and Frankie leans into your open window and plants one last kiss on your forehead before stepping back for you to pull out of the lot. 
Finally in your bed, you grab your phone and plug it in to see a text from Frankie. 
F: “By the way, I’m off this Saturday, and that did NOT count as our 3rd date.”
810 notes · View notes
something-tofightfor · 5 months
Text
Liminality: Part 3
Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader
Word Count: 12,165
Rating: NSFW, plain and simple. (the version of Frankie in this comes with his own warning but I don't wanna spoil anything yet so... you'll see.)
Summary: After suggesting that Frankie take you back to his place, the two of you change the terms of your still very new friendship.
But it's fine, you're both adults and can handle a one-off, right?
Author’s note:
This isn't my typical slow burn, and you're all welcome for that. There's a lot of smut, a lot of plot, and maybe even some foreshadowing in here. Hope you like it.
If you ever want to talk about this - or any of my work - my inbox is always open. Enjoy.
Side note: there will be a slight delay with chapter 4 since I'm planning on finishing some Oberyn and Joel before I jump back into this one full force. I hope you understand.
Masterlist (for the journal entries and all of the other 'extras' + previous chapters)
Tumblr media
Frankie led you up a single step and onto an expansive covered porch complete with furniture and a swing, a string of lights that criss-crossed the underside of the roof bathing you in light. “I hung those.” He pointed up with his free hand. “Pope helped, but …” 
“It’s nice.” You squeezed his hand, nodding. “I saw some in the backyard, too. Did you guys put those up?”
“Mmmhmm.” He typed a code into the door and the lock popped open, Frankie releasing your hand and then settling his on your shoulder. “We can go and sit out there if you want.” 
He’s asking me if I want to sit outside right now? Really? “Maybe some other time.” He pushed gently on your back, urging you into the house. “Right now I’ve got something else in mind.” 
“Me too.” He murmured the words as you both stepped into the living room, soft light spilling down the hallway from in the kitchen to partially illuminate the space. A fireplace? In Florida? “A couple things, actually.” Turning to face him, you tilted your head, waiting. “‘Scuse me.” Frankie reached past you and pushed the door shut, the lock clicking into place - though the position meant that he was much closer to you than he had been at any point that night. “What are your rules?” 
“What?” The question took you by surprise - even though you appreciated him asking. “Rules? What do you mean?” 
“Well I brought you here which means that you don’t have a car. So I’d rather know what your boundaries are now and not … in the middle of things or after when it might get weird.” He’s considerate. He looks like that and he’s … fuck. 
“I don’t know.” Biting the inside of your lip, you eyed him. “What are yours?” 
“No visible marks on my face or body.” He stepped slightly closer, reaching up to run his fingertips along your cheek. “I don’t really mind, but it’s not good for work.” You nodded, because it made sense, but you were still intrigued at the fact that he didn’t mind. “I don’t care what kind of birth control you’re on, I always use a condom.” Lips parting in surprise, you nodded again. Ok, I like that. “If you don’t like something that’s happening, tell me. Don’t wait.” 
“Frankie, I -” You shook your head. How many one night stands does he have if he’s got this many rules? For the first time, you began to doubt your decision, mouth opening to tell him - and then you decided to ask instead. “Do you do this often? You seem prepared?”
“Not often, no.” He was watching you closely, very little space between you. “But this is a special case.” You didn’t understand, your open mouth turning into a frown that Frankie correctly interpreted almost right away. “I don’t usually hook up with … potential clients.” He laughed quietly, taking a long breath. “And I don’t want to scare you away.” He rubbed his thumb gently over your lips, the pad of it pressing against the center of your bottom one. “But I really want to fucking kiss you right now, so -”
You moved first, hands reaching out to grip the material of his shirt to pull him as close as you could. “Then why don’t you?” 
He used his hands to brace his weight - palms flat on the door just above your shoulders - and then Frankie’s mouth met yours with a low growl, the sound vibrating from his throat and against your lips. You gasped when he made contact, fingers tightening against his shirt - but then you stopped thinking. 
Frankie kissed you hard, lips pressed firmly against your mouth, the back of your head hitting the door with a quiet thunk. You sighed, eyes closed, and then slid your hands around to his back, pressing them against his spine and urging him even closer. 
He let you, his hips rocking forward - and when they did, you felt that he was stiffening beneath the jeans he wore, the man not shy about letting you know it. 
Instead of backing away, Frankie’s tongue licked at the seam of your lips, and you didn’t hesitate to part them for him. The kiss turned hungry, and even though you had no desire to break it and ask, it seemed like he’d wanted to do it for a while - the movement of his mouth against yours certain, one hand sliding between the back of your head and the door to cradle it. Fuck. How is he … this is … 
You couldn’t form a coherent thought, and even when he pulled back to take a breath, that remained true. “Wanted to do that since I saw you sitting at that bar.” He spoke quietly, voice husky, the man’s breath fanning over your cheek. “Didn’t think I’d get to though.” 
“Makes two of us.” Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes, saying his name. “I think I have a rule.” 
“Yeah?” He straightened up, hand still in place and both of yours dropping to settle against his narrow hips. “What?” 
“You need to do that as often as you want.” The smile on his face was radiant, Frankie’s eyes widening as you met his gaze. “Because you’re fucking good at it.” 
“I’m good at other things, too.” He blinked slowly, never looking away from you. “You interested in finding out what they are?” 
“I am.” Nodding, you smiled at him. “But first…” Trailing off, you pulled him closer again, tipping your head so that you could press a kiss to the man’s bearded jawline. “C’mere.” He turned his head enough to kiss you again and that one was slower and more reserved, Frankie letting you take the lead and set the pace. 
You bit gently on the man’s lower lip and then followed it with suction, drawing it between your lips - and Frankie rewarded you with a quiet moan, fingers curling against the back of your head as he chased the kiss. You took that as an invitation, one of your hands rising from his hip to the side of his face, fingertips trailing up and over his sideburn and then moving into his hair, following the curls as they curved over his ear. 
It was just as soft as you’d expected it to be, the strands slipping through your fingers. And when you tugged on them, changing the angle of your kiss and causing his lips to part and give you an opening, Frankie sighed, the man nodding twice without pulling away. He likes it. The kiss deepend again, slow strokes of your tongue against his, Frankie returning the gesture and drawing your lip between his teeth before he released it, his mouth sliding over to the corner of yours and pressing a kiss there, too. 
It was surprisingly intimate, especially for two people that didn’t know each other, and when he backed away and gave you a few seconds to collect your thoughts, you were breathing hard. “You alright?” He met your eyes, brow furrowed. “I -” 
“I am. Are you?” Scratching your nails along his scalp, you wet your lips. “You gave me the option to stop earlier… you know you have the same option too, right?”
“Not happening.” He smiled briefly and then swallowed, exhaling. “No way in hell.” You laughed, closing your eyes, and while they were shut, Frankie leaned in and spoke directly into your ear, breath hot against your skin. “You’re gonna have to let me go so I can get your clothes off.” I am, aren’t I. 
Blinking rapidly, you used both hands to push him away from you and then reached for your shirt’s hem, fingers closing around the material. There was space between you - but not much, and all he had to do was raise his hands and he was touching you again. His fingers closed around your wrists and squeezed. “Wait.” Voice low, Frankie cleared his throat. “Let me.” 
You had no problem with that, letting go of the material and mouthing the word ok, Frankie’s hands releasing your wrists and replacing yours on your shirt. He eased it up your body, revealing your skin inch by inch, and when you had to, you lifted your arms over your head eyes on him. “You’re going so slow, Frankie. Wh-”
“I only get to do this once, and I’m gonna enjoy it.” Glancing up, he winked. “Patience.” You closed your eyes and bit down on your lip, fighting back a whimper. He knows what he’s doing. He’s so fucking good at this, how is he single? When he rid you of your shirt, instead of tossing it across the room like you expected, he reached over and set it on a small side table you hadn’t noticed earlier.  “Oh, shit.” 
He spoke so quietly you almost didn’t hear him, the man’s hands returning to your body and roaming over your newly exposed skin. He started with your sides, large palms settled against your ribs before one hand slid around to your back, easing you away from the door and further into the room. “Hmm?” You questioned with a quiet hum and a raised brow. “Frankie?” 
He didn’t say anything, instead continuing to explore you with both hands, the man’s touch much lighter than you expected. He wasn’t shy, though, holding you close and ducking his head down to kiss the top of your shoulder at the same time his hand slid beneath the band of your bra, fingers splayed wide. 
Frankie’s teeth grazed your shoulder and then you gasped in surprise when he took your bra strap between them and pulled, letting it snap back, the sting shocking you enough that your hold on him tightened. He laughed at that, turning his head so that he could nose at your neck, the man inhaling deeply before he kissed you there. He worked his way up, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake before moving across your cheek and back to your mouth. You gasped when you felt your bra loosen, Frankie’s hand deftly undoing it while he was otherwise occupied, and when you backed away in shock, he was grinning. “I told you I’m good with my hands.” 
“You did.” Pulling out of his hold entirely, you reached up and removed the material, letting it drop to the floor. “Now there’s nothing in your way.” You kept your eyes on him as he took the sight of you in - his gaze dropping from your face to your chest and lingering, the man’s fingers flexing at his sides. “Are you going to touch me, Francisco?” Flexing your shoulders, you waited. “Because I thought that’s what you wanted.” 
“Where?” He put a hand on his hip and grinned, gesturing at you with his other hand. “Because I still see plenty in the way.” 
“You’re fully dressed.” Leaning back against the door, you crossed your arms over your chest. “So -” 
“I know.” He scratched the side of his head, still staring at you. “But that doesn’t change anything. You’ve still got those jeans on, and …” He arched a brow, pressing his lips together. “And I’d like to change that.” 
You didn’t know what you’d expected - with all of your other hookups, it had been quick and simple; fumbling in the dark, just enough foreplay to get both of you involved and ready, a few kisses here and there to make things less awkward. But with Frankie, a hookup was more - more involved, more thought out, more interesting, and you had no desire for it to be over quickly. Even if the sex isn’t good, because this is … this is great. 
“No one’s stopping you.” You looked past him, eyes moving toward the hallway. “Where’s the bedroom, though? Shouldn’t we -” 
“If you want to get into a bed, we can.” He stepped closer again, his hands going back to your waist and resting just above the top of your jeans. “But we need to go now, because …” He unbuttoned them, both hands working to pull the sides apart and lower the zipper. “Because I want you, and I -” 
You made the decision for him, stepping out of his hold and then around the man, heading for the space in front of the fireplace. There was a couch and a loveseat, along with a recliner tucked into the corner, but you didn’t choose any of those. Instead, you kicked off your shoes and then stepped onto the rug that covered part of the hardwood floor, turning back to face Frankie. “How’s here?” 
He crossed the room without speaking, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you again. I guess that means this is alright. Bodies pressed together, you and Frankie stood there - his hands dropping, fingers dipping between your jeans and skin and then tugging, the man easing the last clothing you wore down your legs. He’s going to need help. He’s going to need me to… 
But your thoughts stopped when Frankie broke the kiss, sliding his hands back to your sides and kissing your chin before he moved down further, to your collarbone. He didn’t stop there, though, bending forward and mouthing at the top of one breast, the short hair of his beard tickling your skin. You laughed at the feeling, both hands reaching for Frankie’s head and massaging your fingers through his curls - and he seemed to like it. 
He bit you at the first touch of your fingers, the man’s teeth latching onto you for a few seconds before he released your skin, his mouth moving even lower and to your nipple. “Fuck, Frankie.” Your voice was low - almost a whisper - and when he sucked, you whimpered, your back arching to press yourself further into his mouth, Frankie’s fingers digging into your skin as he held you in place. 
He didn’t stay there long, either, releasing you with a pop and then glancing up, a smirk on his lips when he met your eyes. “I’m gonna enjoy this.” Are you? What are … 
Frankie lowered himself to his knees in front of you without breaking eye contact, both hands gliding down your body until he got to your jeans - and pushed them the rest of the way down. 
He finally looked away when he dropped his gaze to your lower legs, the man working quickly to rid you of the denim you wore, but your eyes were locked on him - on the crown of his head, the silver strands in his hair visible even in the dim light, on the slope of his shoulders, on the way his fingers deftly wrapped around one ankle and then the next to steady you  - and you realized that your heart was pounding against your ribcage in anticipation. 
“Frankie, you don’t have to -” 
“I know.” He looked up again, the man’s breaths slow and deep. “I want to.” You felt his fingertips running up the backs of your legs before he squeezed your thighs, nodding. “That alright?” 
“Yes.” You didn’t recognize your voice when you gave your answer because it was breathy and full of need - Frankie’s eyes flashing at your permission. But I can’t let this get too serious because it’s supposed to be … fun. “Are …” Clearing your throat to steady yourself, you slid your thumb over his cheek. “Are your knees as bad as Pope’s? Because if they are, that can’t be a comfortable position for you and -” 
Frankie’s laugh caught you by surprise. 
It was a full sound, the man closing his eyes and tipping his head back, fingers tightening further against you. “They’re fine.” He licked his lips again, locking eyes with you. “I’ll prove it right now.” 
You had few doubts about that, even after only knowing him for a few hours. But when Frankie returned his attention to your body, they all but disappeared. He leaned in, tilting his head to the side and settling his mouth just below the cut of your underwear on one thigh and let his lips linger there, both thumbs circling slowly on your legs. 
That motion continued even as he moved his mouth, lips occasionally replaced by a gentle drag of his teeth as they grazed your skin. “You’re teasing, Frankie.” Carding through his hair, you tugged on it to get his attention. “Please, just…” You didn’t even know what you were asking for; it was clear that he had a plan and was just taking his time getting there. “Fuck, I don’t even…” 
Trailing off, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, the strands of his hair still slipping through your fingers as he kissed his way over your skin. 
Moving his hands up a few inches, Frankie spread his fingers wide, taking you in hand - and then he squeezed again at the same time as he finally pressed a kiss to your covered mound, the pressure of his lips firm. At the contact, your hips jerked forward, toes curling against the carpeted floor. He kissed you again, hands moving a little higher, and when his fingers hooked over the waistband of your underwear and started to pull it down, you spread your legs a few inches, making it easier for him to lower them. 
He backed off while he finished undressing you, easing the damp material down your legs until it dropped to the floor and you kicked them off to one side. “Look at you.” He groaned, replacing his hands on the outside of your thighs. “Fuck.” It made you smile, but that expression left your lips the moment he kissed your skin again - the man’s lips soft and warm, his mustache tickling you just enough to make you sigh. 
Frankie didn’t go straight for it, though, continuing to tease you with quick kisses and short licks, his tongue dragging over your skin in a maddening pattern. He glanced up at you once, too, making eye contact - and though you didn’t know him well you could see amusement in his eyes and feel the way he grinned against your skin at whatever expression he’d found on your face. 
You fought to keep your composure, but when he touched you for the first time, you had to admit that it was a losing battle. Using both thumbs, he spread you open, the roughened pads pressed to your damp skin - giving him unrestricgted access. And Frankie wasted no time then, mouth landing exactly where he meant it to only moments later. 
The first contact was a kiss, but that moved almost immediately into a series of slow licks, the man’s tongue flat as he probed at your skin. He was unhurried, though, focused on what he was doing and taking his time, each pass of the muscle moving a little lower. You widened the spread of your feet without him asking, rising onto your toes briefly when Frankie’s tongue breached your entrance for the first time, but that was short lived, the man squeezing your leg and backing away. 
“You’re gonna lose your balance that way.” He grinned up at you as he licked his lips clean, thoughtfully drawing his lower one between his teeth. “Relax.” 
“You’re telling me to relax when you’ve got that mouth all over me, Frankie.” Rolling your eyes, you glanced down at where he was still touching you. “I don’t think you understand what -”
“No, I do.” He leaned in again, flicking his tongue out and against you twice. “I really do.” The angle was off - you weren’t quite tall enough to give him the best angle, but that didn’t stop Frankie from continuing what he was doing, both eyes closing as he savored the taste of you through long, thorough licking and more focused suction, the tip of his tongue flicking against you over and over. 
But what you weren’t prepared for was the removal of one hand from your leg followed by the drag of his knuckles against the space below his mouth. You moaned at that - the sound loud, but it only encouraged him, Frankie rotating his wrist and then circling his fingertips against your opening before pushing two of them slowly in. 
It was a lot - his fingers were thick, but he didn’t rush anything and his mouth had done a lot of work to get you ready. Holy fuck, he … he’s … You didn’t know how to complete the thought, because as he continued to work you over with his mouth, he sunk both fingers in, pausing before withdrawing them. You spoke his name again - just a whisper - but it was all he needed, Frankie repeating the upward thrust of his fingers and changing the position of his mouth on you. 
You were gripping his hair with both hands, urging him to stay in place, but when he paused and backed off before he’d taken you too far, you didn’t stop him, instead using the break to take a long, shuddering breath. “You’re good at that.” Biting your lip, you nodded. “Really good. Like -”
“Glad you enjoyed.” He smiled up at you, the expression lazy, even as he continued to pump his fingers into your body, though his pace slowed. “You’ll enjoy it more when you’re layin’ down, though.” Does that mean he wants me to lay down? Does that mean he wants to do this again? I …. “Come ‘ere.” Slowly, the pulled his fingers from you, curling them as he withdrew and then settled back, taking a long breath and patting his thigh. 
On slightly shaky legs, you did as he asked - lowering yourself down to straddle his thighs, both arms winding around his neck as his looped around your waist. “How are you going to fuck me if you’re still fully dressed, Frankie?” Resting your forehead against his, you wrinkled your nose. “Last time I checked, you couldn’t -” 
“I’ve got you.” He whispered the reply, the certainty in his voice settling you down as he kissed your cheek and then turned his attention to your ear. “Lay down.” You wanted him to kiss you but didn’t press it, instead climbing off of him and slowly reclining onto the rug, though you rolled onto one side and propped yourself on one elbow, watching him. 
He stood moments later, undoing his belt buckle and then the button and zipper on his jeans, pushing them down his thighs to remove them. That left him only in his underwear, an impressive bulge visible in the front and equally impressive thighs testing the elasticity of the leg openings below. Frankie pulled his wallet out before dropping the jeans, flipping it open and pulling out a condom package and then letting the leather bundle fall to the floor. He held it out to you and you took it, fingers brushing his as yours curled around the foil square, but your eyes were on Frankie and the way he used his other hand - the one he’d touched you with - to adjust himself through the material, squeezing through the cotton. 
You wanted to taste him, too - to know what the weight of him felt like against your tongue, to run your tongue over his head and tease him the way he’d teased you. Maybe later. Right now he looks like he just … Frankie eyed you with a hunger you hadn’t ever seen in someone so soon after meeting them before. But instead of worrying you, it made your stomach flip, desire surging through your body. Because if he’s looking at me that way, then he’s going to do something about it, and … 
He tugged once more on himself and then with a quick shake of his head, pulled his underwear off, tossing it to the side. He was still wearing his shirt, the thin material hanging down to his lower belly, but you only considered that for a few seconds. Because he … damn. 
Frankie’s fingers wrapped around his length again almost right away, but instead of using his clean hand to stroke himself, he used the other one, your slick easing the glide of his fingers. Fuck it. Fuck it, I … “Get down here.” You didn’t mean to make it sound like such an order, but he did as you asked immediately, lowering himself back onto his knees and then crawling toward you, eyes locked on your face. 
He covered your body with his, easing you onto your back and letting his weight rest atop yours, the man’s arousal hot where it pressed against your thigh. “How do you want me?” You’d assumed that he would just want basic sex - that you’d end up on your back with your legs wrapped around his waist while he fucked you, and you told him as much. “I can do that.” He reached for your hand, taking the condom and tearing it open. “But I had something else in mind.” 
Frankie rolled onto his back and then deftly put the condom on, your attention on the way his fingers looked rolling the thin material down and over his length before he squeezed the base, hissing in pleasure. “What’s that?” 
He turned his head and looked at you, saying your name. “Get on top … just for a second.” It shocked you - Frankie willingly giving you the power - but you didn’t question it, scrambling onto your knees and then into position, straddling him again with your hands on his abdomen. “Go slow.” 
Nodding, you did as he said - rising to your full height and scooting down so that you were hovering over where he held himself, the man’s eyes focused on the place where your bodies would join. “I will.” You looked down, biting your lip. “Not for long though, because fuck, Frankie, you keep telling me you’re going to enjoy this, but -” Stop talking. 
You let out a slow breath when you lowered your body, feeling the broad tip of him as it touched you and then slipped inside. Letting out a gasp, you tipped your head back and stared at the ceiling, mouth hanging open with each little bit of him that you accepted into yourself. 
He was murmuring words of praise as you moved; telling you that you were doing great, that you looked fucking incredible on top of him, that you felt good around him… but all you were focused on was the way that Frankie filled you up, inch by inch. You took him slowly, finally bottoming out and letting yourself relax for a few seconds. Neither of you moved, though you did look down at the man again, noticing that his fingers were curled into fists, the Frankie’s mouth hanging open slightly as he watched you. 
“That slow enough?” You couldn’t resist teasing him, and when all you got out of him was a tight nod, the man’s jaw ticking as he stared up at you, you decided it was your turn to tease him. Rocking your hips back and forth, you sighed and then closed your eyes, fingers curling against the material of his shirt. “Need to feel you, Frankie. I need to move. I -”
“Do it.” That was little more than a low growl, his hands flying up from the floor to grip your hips, the man guiding you into a slow rhythm that moved you up and down, your body’s accommodation of him easing by the second. And then it was your turn to praise him - eyes squeezed shut as you rode him, the muscles in your thighs tensing with each bounce. You told him that he felt good, that he filled you perfectly, that you’d never felt anything like him - and with each phrase, Frankie’s hold on you tightened, his hips rising just enough to meet yours on every downstroke and change the way he felt inside you. 
You wouldn’t come that way - there was no real friction or pressure where you needed it most, but to your surprise, the thought that you’d ride him all night even if it meant you’d never finish crossed your mind, the fact that it was the truth registering only moments later. Uh oh. Eyes flying open, you looked down and met his gaze, the man staring directly at you. 
There was a half smile on his face at first, but at the expression on yours, that look changed, Frankie blinking twice and murmuring your name. “What’s wrong?” 
“Too much.” The words slipped out, but as he heard them, he stopped moving entirely, his grip on you loosening. “I need you to fuck me, Frankie. Not like this. Not like it’s -” Familiar. Not like it means anything. 
“Alright.” He nodded then, jerking his chin and taking a deep breath. “Ok.” You climbed off of him, biting back a sigh at the loss of him as he slipped out, and moved to kneel next to him on the carpet, your lips pressed together.  He moved quickly, opening up more space for you and then gesturing with the hand that wasn’t slowly stroking himself.  “However you -”
You made the decision as he spoke, getting onto your hands and knees and then glancing back over your shoulder at him. “How’s this?” You had no doubt that it would be a good position for him, and almost knew that he wouldn’t oppose it, but part of you wondered why you felt that it was necessary. Because it’s less intimate this way. “Frankie?” Speaking softly, you shifted on your knees, watching his gaze drop and then rise back to meet yours. “Yeah?” 
“Y…yeah.” He swallowed, nodding and then moved into place behind you. “Spread your legs a little more for me, though.” You widened the set of your knees and then turned your head forward, closing your eyes and blowing out a breath as he put both hands on you, palms flat and fingers spread wide, the tips of them curling over your thighs. Alright. Alright this is - 
But you were unprepared for the feeling of his mouth on you from behind - first the press of his lips and then the drag of his tongue, slow and steady. Oh, shit. You whimpered, the sound escaping before you could stop it, but even more telling was the way your back arched, hips jerking toward the man’s mouth as you sought out more. 
He backed off, his exhale warming your slick skin, and then you felt him steady your hip with one hand, followed by the nudge of him against you. “Oh, fuck.” He spoke so quietly that you almost didn’t hear him, but when Frankie pushed back inside, the glide of him eased through you by your body’s response to his, you heard that reaction, the man swearing loudly and then using both hands to hold your hips in place as he began to thrust. 
It was better from that angle - the power behind each movement of his hips apparent, Frankie setting a pace that felt amazing and allowed you to feel every inch of him with every snap of his hips. And his hold on you never wavered, even when you began to pant, every exhale accompanied by a tiny whine as your fingers curled into the fibers of the carpet, giving you something to hold on to. 
He filled you - over and over, his grip tightening but not to the point of pain, and when you moaned out his name, turning your head to the side and peeking behind you at him, your entire body shivered at what you saw. 
He was still fully upright, the man’s head tilted to the side and his eyes on you - the lids hooded and one long lock of hair hanging down over his eye. His lip was curled, mouth set into a smirk that was part amusement and part effort - and it was one of the most attractive things you’d ever seen. 
As much as you were enjoying the position - and could tell that Frankie was, too, part of you regretted asking him to move, regretted the loss of contact and the ability to watch him. But it’s better this way. It makes more sense this way. He’s going to get off, and then I’ll - 
You felt his hand moving, sliding from your hip and around to the front of your body. Then only moments later, the man touched you, two fingers sliding over your skin and then lower, between your legs where they parted, Frankie letting himself feel where he was entering you. “Gonna help you out now, alright?” He sighed and then groaned, slowing down the movement of his hips as he pulled out and then sunk back in, the pressure of his fingers increasing. “Can you sit up?” Wait, what?  But you did as he asked, pushing yourself upright, hands hanging by your sides - and waiting. 
The new angle changed his depth, but Frankie never stopped moving, the motion of his hips becoming a slow roll instead of deep thrusts, and without thinking, you leaned back, shoulders pressed to his chest and your head tilted to rest against his shoulder. Instinctively, you arched your back again, hips pushed backward and against his. Frankie hummed at that, the man turning his head to nuzzle at the side of yours, his fingers still slowly circling against you. “That feels fucking amazing.” 
You closed your eyes, reaching back with one hand and setting your hand on the side of his leg, the man’s muscles flexing beneath your touch. “Yeah? You feel fucking amazing.” His free hand moved from your hip to your stomach, resting there for the span of a few thrusts, and then it glided upward, his large palm sliding between your breasts and then over the left one, lingering on the swell of it before coming to rest over your heart. “Relax. I’ve got you.” 
He spoke into your ear, and you did what he said, letting your weight rest against him and in his hold, your eyes closing and lips falling open. The hand not on his leg moved up and into his hair, your fingers combing through the damp curls … and then they stayed there, even as Frankie’s mouth began to move against your cheek and jaw. 
He sped up the motion of his hips, setting a different pace than he had with the movement of his fingers. After only a few seconds, you realized how close you were - and how much you wanted to come with him deep inside you. Because he won’t be far behind. And that … oh, fuck, that will… 
You pressed yourself harder against him, meeting his hips with small backwards thrusts of your own, and when you felt him nod you smiled, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. It was building - pressure and heat low in your belly, every motion of Frankie’s sending a jolt through you. When your thigh muscles tensed, followed by a slight curling of your toes and a quiet whimper, you knew that you were about to fall - and it was all because of him. 
It washed over you slowly, Frankie’s pace never faltering even as your body squeezed him, hips jerking back erratically and your grip on his hair tightening. You couldn’t help the way the edges of your nails dug into the meat of his thigh, your mouth falling open into a soundless gasp. He curled the fingers on your chest and groaned, turning his head again and speaking into your ear, his voice low and deep. “That’s it. Give it to me.” 
Normally, you weren’t a fan of much talking during sex; a few words here and there were fine, but in your experience, the talk came with familiarity, and since you weren’t typically close with the people you slept with, it always felt forced and unnecessary. But I’d listen to him recite the phone book in bed if he wanted to. You hummed in agreement, nodding twice as your body - and his - continued to work you through your orgasm, muscles tensing and loosening around him while he continued to move behind you. “Could say the… mmm, could say the same to you, Frankie.” 
He laughed at your words, but he wasn’t laughing at you - instead he turned it into a groan and then pulled his hand from between your legs, moving it up and pressing it against your lower abdomen. “Yes, ma’am.” You sucked in a breath at the address and then Frankie was moving faster again, the snap of his hips and the stretch of him inside you reminding you of the fact that he was filling you, over and over, the man showing no sign of fatigue, even after the varied positions and the need for him to partially support your weight. 
His breath faltered moments later, the man’s grunt loud, and then you moaned at the feeling of Frankie’s teeth on your neck, the man biting hard at the same time his arms tightened around you. He released your skin after only a few moments, soothing the sting with the press of his lips, but you barely felt it - instead focused on the way the stuttering of his hips and his hold felt. The thinness of the condom he chose allowed you to feel every twitch of his muscles, Frankie growing harder inside of you as he came. 
He finally stopped moving though he didn’t release you, the man’s hips flush with the backs of your thighs. You didn’t even try to hide the smile on your face as your grip on him loosened, arms dropping into a more relaxed position even though your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. He was breathing hard, too, and when Frankie did release you, you tipped your head back and blew out a long breath. 
He pulled out slowly soon after, another quiet grunt the only noise you heard, and when he backed away, you relaxed, lowering yourself so that you were sitting on the floor, leaning to the side with your bent legs beneath you. Well that was… You heard him moving behind you, and then only a few seconds later, a soft blanket was draped over your shoulders and he said your name. “C’mon, let me show you where the bathroom is.” 
Turning your head, you watched as he wrapped a smaller blanket around his waist, the man’s eyes locked on you. Yeah, that’s … a good idea. You were still dazed, but even more surprised when he reached out with one hand to take yours and help you to your feet, Frankie’s fingers closing around yours. “Thank you. I -”
“Lemme see.” He reached for you with his other hand, tilting your head so that he could see the place on your neck where his teeth had been. “I didn’t break the skin, did I?” 
“No. What? You didn’t bite that hard.” Laughing it off, you rolled your eyes. “I’m fine, Frankie. I actually … I liked that.”
“Can’t lose control, though.” He frowned, eyes on your skin. “Coulda hurt you… and then how would you have explained that to anyone you see in the next couple days?” No, you couldn’t. 
“You didn’t.” Reaching out, you cupped his cheek in one hand, forcing him to look at you. “No harm done, and it was hot as fuck, so…” He gave you a tiny smile at that, some of the worry leaving his eyes. “Show me where this bathroom is, yeah?” 
He led you down the hall, flipping the light switch on and telling you that you could use anything you needed, and then Frankie turned again, heading toward what you assumed was his bedroom. Closing the door, you turned to face the sink and gave yourself a few seconds to stare at your reflection, trying to get your bearings. 
Your eyes were bright, and though you couldn’t see it beneath the blanket he’d given you, you knew that your chest was still rising and falling rapidly, your body coming down from the act of being with him. He’s good. He’s really good. I enjoyed that. Closing your eyes, you let the blanket fall and gripped the edge of the sink, sighing. Don’t get used to it. You’re only going to be here for a little while. 
You did what you needed to do; used the bathroom, washed your face, took a capful of the mouthwash in the medicine cabinet, and then bent over, wrapping yourself in the blanket again before heading back into the living room to collect your clothes. 
Frankie was still gone, and even though you gave yourself a moment to stare at the place on the carpet you’d just occupied, you were already sitting and pulling your underwear back on when he finally did reenter the room, the man wearing a pair of sleep pants and the same long sleeve shirt he’d had on previously. “You don’t need to get dressed, unless you want me to take you back to the hotel tonight.” 
“You want me to sleep naked?” Glancing up at him, you arched a brow. “Seems kind of unfair since you didn’t even take off all your clothes earlier.” 
“Yeah, about that.” He wrinkled his nose, reaching up to ruffle his own hair. “There’s a reason, and when you see it, you’ll understand.” You were intrigued, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, and so you stayed quiet, eyeing him. “I’m serious, though. I don’t have much to offer you to sleep in, but if you sleep in those pants, you won’t be comfortable.” 
“You want me to stay?” 
“Yes.” There was no hesitation on his part, Frankie gesturing toward you with one hand. “Only if you want to, though.” You did - very much - and so you stood, walking to where he was waiting. “We’ll grab something to drink and then head to my room, and I’ll show you why I didn’t take my shirt off.” 
— 
A few minutes later, you and Frankie were in his room, glasses of water sitting on coasters on the small tables on either side of his bed. He’d explained a little to you about the house - that he’d bought it when he and his ex had split for good, that he hadn’t looked at too many before making the decision, and that it was a constant work in progress - but he’d sidestepped the mystery of his shirt, and it wasn’t until you were already in bed and under the blanket, your bare back resting against the wooden headboard that he brought it up again. 
“It’s going to sound selfish.” He stood on your side of the bed, looking down. “But I was pretty focused when we first got back here, and I didn’t want to … waste time.” Waste time? What? “Everyone always asks questions when they see it for the first time, and …” 
He moved as he spoke, reaching for the bottom hem of his shirt and then pulling it over his head, letting the thin material fall to the floor. “Holy fuck, Frankie.” Scrambling onto your knees, you made sure to hold the blanket over your bare chest, eyes on his arm. “That’s what you were hiding?” 
“Yeah.” He moved closer, holding it out toward you. “Go ahead, you can touch it.” He didn’t need to tell you twice, and only moments later, you were running your fingertips over the intricately inked designs on his arm, unsure of where to focus. Jesus, this is beautiful. “I got it after I retired from the military for good.” He cleared his throat, continuing. “We um … we all got somethin’, just to remind us that we were in some deep shit together.” He pointed at a spot on his bicep, your eyes moving to it. “For our unit.” 
“But you have a sleeve, Frankie. Do the other guys? No, because I saw Will and Tom’s arms, so…” He laughed, shaking his head, even as you continued to trace the lines of the tattoo. 
“No. Everyone else’s is pretty small. Benny’s is on his chest. Ironhead’s got his on his side. Pope’s is on the back of one leg. Redfly’s is on his shoulder.” You hummed in appreciation, eyes scanning the man’s arm. It was covered with navigational objects - maps and a compass, what looked like an instrument panel, a helicopter and even a biplane. You even saw a mountain range and a few sets of coordinates, along with Roman numerals hidden in amongst the other elements. “I made mine bigger because I was tryin’ to hide something.” 
Your fingers found it as he spoke again, your thumb rubbing slowly over what felt like thick scar tissue on the inside of his forearm, the uneven lines covering an area of a few inches. You felt a wave of unease as you explored, but it passed quickly, Frankie clearing his throat to reclaim your attention. 
“Got ambushed during the last mission. We were pretty far out and without a medical team, and by the time we got anywhere near a hospital, it had already started healing like shit. Got tired of looking at it and answerin’ questions about what happened so I covered it up and now all people see is the tattoo.” 
“Did it hurt?” You glanced up, fingers tightening slightly over the thickened skin. “Getting a tattoo over the scars? I’ve heard that it’s worse sometimes.” 
“Nah. Not as much as when I got hurt the first time.” He covered your hand with his and squeezed, saying your name. “D’you see why I didn’t want to get into this before?”
“You wanted to get straight to the sex. I get it.” Grinning, you shook your head. “It’s gorgeous work, Frankie. It suits you. I’d love to see it in actual light, not just these lamps, because I’m sure there are a ton of details, and -”
“You will.” He pulled his arm back and then circled around to the other side of the bed, climbing in and leaning back, just like you were. “I usually fly in short sleeves. So if you’re still interested in those flights…” 
“Oh, I am.” Turning your head to look at him, you nodded. “Very interested, Frankie. That wasn’t just bullshit to get you into bed.” 
“Good. Because I want to take you up there.” He reached over, squeezing your knee through the blanket. “Do you want to stop on the way back to the hotel tomorrow for breakfast?” 
“Yeah, that works.” You sighed. “I don’t know what’s around here, but … I trust you to pick something good.” He grinned, nodding. Part of you - a very large part - wanted to lean over and kiss him again before you laid down, but you knew that it wasn’t a good idea. That’s not what this was. It was just sex and … it was good sex, but … 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Tilting his head to the side, Frankie crossed his arms over his chest. “What?” 
“I’m trying to figure out how to end this conversation and lay down without it being awkward, but … I just made it awkward, didn’t I.” He laughed at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling, but Frankie’s head shook back and forth, the man leaning closer. 
“Not awkward. I get it. This shit’s kind of weird, hmm? After what we just did out there, being in here’s … different.” You nodded, still eyeing him. “Can I make it a little better for you?” He wet his lips, taking a deep breath. “Easier, maybe?” 
You knew what he was going to do even before he moved, but Frankie leaned closer while you nodded, one of his hands rising to touch - and then tilt - your chin. He kissed you softly, lips lingering on yours, and when he backed away, he was smiling, one brow arched. “I did say you could do that as often as you wanted tonight, didn’t I?” 
“You did.” He tweaked your chin and then pulled away entirely, easing himself down and onto the mattress. “Now get some sleep. I paid a fortune for this bed and I want you to enjoy it as much as I do.” You laughed, laying down next to him and rolling onto your side, facing the man. “Alexa, bedroom off.” 
Without delay, the room was plunged into darkness, Frankie shifting next to you as he settled in. He didn’t say anything else, and there was space between your bodies, but you didn’t feel the typical chasm that was almost always result when you stayed after a hookup. Because I knew him a little first? Because this won’t be the last time I see him? Both? I don’t… I don’t know. 
Humming quietly as you got comfortable, you felt your breaths lengthen, your body sinking into the mattress, which was comfortable. “Are these pillows the same material as -”
“Yes.” His voice was muffled, Frankie clearing his throat before he continued. “I told you. A fortune. I’m not twenty one anymore and I deserve it, goddammit.” You laughed at that, eyes squeezed shut. “Goodnight.” 
“‘Night, Frankie.” 
As you drifted off, the thought crossed your mind that even it was meant to be a one-time only thing, it certainly hadn’t felt that way at any point in the night - on either side. 
— 
You woke up to heat, a weight draped over you that sent a jolt of panic through your body as you sucked in a breath. Where am I? What is - “Hey. It’s alright.” His voice was low and in your ear, your muscles relaxing at the sound. “You’re alright. I just moved in my sleep, I’m sorry.” 
The realization that it was Frankie’s weight partially atop you forced your eyes open, the sight of his bare chest only inches from your nose greeting you immediately. Oh, shit. “I’m sorry, too. I -”
“Don’t apologize.” He moved his hand slowly, trailing a finger up the center of your back. “Not a bad way to wake up.” No, not at all. “How’d you sleep?” He smells so good. Even after last night, he smells… 
“Like a rock, Frankie. You weren’t lying about your bed. This is incredible compared to the hotels and apartments I’ve dealt with the last couple months. I don’t know how you get out of it every morning.” He laughed at you, taking a breath and rolling onto his back and away from you. You watched as his tattooed arm lifted, that hand rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 
It was easier to see the design in the morning light, and your eyes roamed his skin, looking for details that you’d missed previously. There’s so many. I’d need to look for an hour to see them all. “I’m going to take a shower, and then we’ll get going. I hate to do that, but I’m gonna go straight to the office after I drop you off.” He blinked at you, the man’s cheek pressed to his pillow. “You can use the other one if you want, should be everything you need in -”
“I appreciate it.” Sitting up, you held the blanket in place. “But I’ve got some emails to check, and there’s no point in showering if I’m just going to put old clothes on.” 
“I offered.” He sat up, too, and shrugged. “There’s coffee in the kitchen if you want to make some. It’ll only take me about ten minutes.” Frankie climbed out of bed without warning, treating you to the sight of his bare back and shoulders, pants hanging low on his hips. Damn. Look at him. “It’s not polite to stare.” Throwing a glance back over his shoulder, you watched as his smile grew. “But I don’t mind.” 
You groaned and he laughed, the man disappearing into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. Well, shit. You gave yourself until you heard the water turn on to get out of bed, quickly pulling your clothes back on and using his mirror to ensure that you looked presentable. That done, you padded barefoot into the kitchen, willing yourself not to snoop. 
He’d already opened up to you on numerous levels - more than any typical one night stand, and also more than any new acquaintance, and you didn’t want to break his trust. As you reached for the handle of the most likely cabinet for coffee mugs, you tried to convince yourself that it was because you needed him for the helicopter, but you knew that wasn’t everything. 
The places your search took you often led to loneliness - the job was a solo one, and your cover contacts could only fill so much of the time in the day. The reality was that when you weren’t out looking at likely locations or actively doing research, you spent a lot of time in the place you were renting. 
It didn’t make sense to make friends. It wasn’t smart to form attachments, because the nature of your mission was something that kept you on the move. But maybe … maybe making a friend like Frankie would be alright. 
His friends were an added bonus, too. He hadn’t been wrong; you’d gotten along with them, had enjoyed the time you’d spent at the bar, and it had little to do with the fact that they were potentially useful. And everything to do with them as people. 
You set the pot to brew and then headed for the living room, digging through your bag for your phone and pulling it free. 
There were no missed calls or texts, and nothing in your inbox from Tom. It’s still early, though. Frowning, you headed back into the kitchen and took a seat at the small table, dialing Alec’s number as the scent of the coffee filled the room. 
It went straight to voicemail, which didn’t surprise you, and with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, you rested your forehead against your palm, waiting for the beep. “Hey, Alec. It’s me. Just checking in and trying to figure out how things are going. I’m working on a couple things in Florida, so hopefully in a few days I’ll be settled for a while. Give me a call when you get this, alright? Would be great to hear about what you’ve been up to.” 
Setting the phone face down on the table, you covered your face with both hands, sighing. It wasn’t unusual to be out of contact for a lengthy period of time, but no interaction whatsoever always worried you. He’s fine. He’s just following a lead. He - “Alec? I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but -” He sounds concerned. 
Head popping up, you turned in your seat toward the doorway, finding that Frankie was leaning against it, his hair wet and arms crossed over his broad chest. “My cousin. He also travels for work, so we … we sort of keep each other company while we’re on the job. It’s been a little while since I’ve heard from him, though, and I have no idea where he is right now.” He nodded twice, pointing at the coffee maker with one finger. 
“You made a pot, not a cup.” Well, yeah. I figured you might want some, too. “There enough for me?”
“Of course. I just got out one mug because I didn’t want to assume, but… yeah, Frankie.” Standing, you headed back toward the counter, inhaling deeply. “I made enough for you.” 
“Thank you.” You heard the sound of a cabinet opening and then watched as he pushed a travel mug across the counter, followed moments later by a second one. “Can I make a suggestion?” Turning your head, you waited to see what he’d say. “We take it to go, and then both of us have a good coffee to drink later today.” 
You paused, pressing your lips together. Is he trying to get me out of here? “I… ok. Sure. I haven’t tested out the coffee maker in my room yet, but -” You poured coffee into the first mug, leaving enough space in case he wanted to add anything to it. 
“And you can give me the mug back the next time I see you.” He stepped closer, bumping your hip with his.  “Whether that’s for a flight or … another time.” You tried to hide it but you were certain he saw your hand shake at the comment, both of your eyes widening at the insinuation. Another time? Another time like last night, or another time at the bar, or - “Whenever’s good for you.” 
You turned your head then, locking eyes with him. There was something in them, a hopeful look that surprised you, but Frankie only gave you a small smile, the man shrugging as he reached for the full mug, his fingers closing around it. Keep it light. “Sounds good.” You returned your attention to the coffee pot, heart thudding in your chest. “I will be in Tampa for a while, so…” Don’t get your hopes up. 
A few minutes later, both of you were holding full travel mugs and heading out the front door. Frankie was telling you a story about a booking he’d had, your attention fully on the sound of his voice. “I have so many damn stories I could tell you, it’s unreal.” He slid into the seat next to you, turning the key in the ignition. “Proposals. I’ve had people break up mid-flight. Couple people puked. Someone demanded their money back because I wouldn’t land ‘em in a random place.”
“People are … very needy.” You sipped your coffee, eyeing his dashboard. “But I bet you’ve had some really good flights, too. Otherwise, you wouldn’t still be doing it.” He didn’t answer right away, but when he did, it wasn’t how you’d anticipated.
“Alright. There’s a place on the way back to Ironhead’s that I like. Hopefully you will, too.” He put the truck in reverse and backed slowly down the driveway. “And yeah, I have had good flights. Most of ‘em are that way. But even if they weren’t, I think I’d still do this. Flying’s what I know. It’s what I’m good at. I made a career out of it in the military, so why not keep doing it now?” 
“I know for a fact you’re good at other things, too.” Eyeing him, you chewed on your lower lip. Well, it’s the truth. “So -”
“Ah, but those things aren’t exactly legal for me to profit from, are they.” He grinned, turning toward you enough to give you a wink. “Thanks for the vote of encouragement, though. I’ll remember that. Flattery gets you everywhere with me.” This is too easy. It shouldn’t be this easy. “We’re almost there, by the way. Family owned diner. Cheap but the food is good. They’re really friendly.” 
Nodding in agreement, you leaned back in your seat, staring out the front window. You reminded yourself to make a few notes during the meal, just in case he was watching you closely. Keep up appearances. 
But when you parked in the small lot, Frankie waiting for you to round the front of the truck to start walking toward the front door, you knew that you wouldn’t be focusing much on your surroundings. Instead, you focused on him, the man taking a seat across from you in the small booth, and immediately launching into another story once you’d both ordered. 
He kept you entertained throughout the entire meal, your attention squarely on him and what he was saying - but Frankie asked you questions, too, the man’s prodding never making you feel uncomfortable, though it was not typical “morning after” conversation. But nothing about this is typical, is it. 
He made you laugh with a story about Benny and Pope, and it was impossible not to keep grinning in his direction, even after it was finished. “You’re making a very good case for wanting to be friends with your friends, do you know that?” You finished your meal, dropping your fork onto the plate and then topping it with a wadded up napkin. “Thank you, Frankie. For … last night and for this morning. It’s been a really long time since I’ve felt … I don’t know, like I’m in a place for more than work. It was nice to relax for a while.” 
He nodded, raising his almost empty cup in salute. “Glad to help.” You didn’t want to cross a line or make it weird with him, but his reaction reassured you that you hadn’t. “They all always tell me I need to relax, too. And despite what you might think, last night was … not my normal. Before? Yeah. Before I met Becca? Definitely. It … I’m careful now. I have to be.” 
“Because of your daughter?” Cocking your head to the side, you crossed your arms on the table. “I get it. Even if she doesn’t live with you all the time, you’ve gotta be there for her. And inviting strangers into your life is … not always the best idea.” He watched you for a few seconds, the look in his eyes almost distant, but then he nodded, blinking himself back into focus.
“That’s part of it.” He gestured to your plate and then to his. “Ready?” You nodded in agreement, reaching for your bag, but Frankie held out his hand, stopping you. “It’s on me. I’ve got it.” You didn’t want to argue and so you thanked him instead, watching as he pulled a few bills out of his wallet and set them on the table. “C’mon. We leave now, I’ll be able to get you back to your car before Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumber get to the bar to open it up.” 
You snorted back a laugh and followed Frankie back outside, the man pausing long enough to glance up at the sky and take a deep breath. What is he going to say? He’s gearing up for something. “Which one’s which?” Putting a hand on your hip, you wrinkled your nose. “Benny and Will? Which one’s -”
“Depends on the day of the week.” He kept a straight face for a few seconds and then laughed, shaking his head. “I’m kidding. They’re both a hell of a lot smarter than they look, and they’re two of the best goddamn friends anyone could ask for.” 
“But that doesn’t mean they won’t give you shit about picking up a girl from a bar and having to drive her back to her car the following morning - as any good friend should.” Buckling in, you looked over at Frankie. “I get it.” 
“I meant it. I don’t … I don’t use the bar like that. I don’t just -”
“Frankie, you don’t owe me an explanation. Even if you did take home a new woman every time you went in there, I can’t say much about it because I’d barely been in Tampa for a full day before I let you take me back to your place. This is … what it is, and I think it’s fair to say that we both enjoyed ourselves, but that doesn’t mean either of us have to justify our behavior.” You drummed your fingertips atop your knee. “I don’t stay in one place long enough to get close to people. I’ve never kept in touch with anyone I’ve met after I’m out of a city, so -”
“But have you ever slept with ‘em and then had to work with them afterward?” He watched the road as he drove, both hands on the wheel. 
“No. But if it’s going to be a problem, I -” He stopped at a light, turning his head to look at you. “What?” 
“It’s not going to be a problem. I just want to be honest with you, because I’m not … I’m not looking for anything long term, and I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. After retiring, after Becca, after … everything, I’m just trying to … make it all work.” 
“Well you’re in luck.” You cleared your throat. “I think we’ll need to be friendly in order to make the most out of these flights I’m hoping to schedule with you, but it doesn’t need to be more. Last night was great, Frankie, there’s no reason to pretend it wasn’t.” You were thankful that he was being honest with you - setting expectations and not leaving things open to interpretation. He knows what he needs, and that’s … a step up from most men, honestly. “But we can leave that part of it at that, and just … work together.”
It was probably for the best - the longer you stayed in Tampa and the deeper you got in your research, the less time you’d have for distractions like Frankie outside of the helicopter. Because the man was perceptive - he had to be in order to survive multiple deployments, and to excel at his current profession. And perceptive people ask questions, which I can’t answer, so … it was fun but we shouldn’t do it again. 
He gripped the steering wheel tightly, the man’s jaw set - but he didn’t speak again until you were parked in the bar’s lot, his truck next to your car. “I might have some time before my first trip today to look into some routes. If you … if you think of anything you want to see, or anywhere you’d like to go, just let me know, and I’ll see if I can work it in.” You nodded, digging through your bag for your keys. “Might be a couple days before you hear from me, because I want to have actual answers before I -”
“That’s fine. And if, in the meantime, you can figure out a time to do one of your regular routes, I’m open to that. I have to see the main coast and the city too, right?” Might as well get that out of the way while I can. “Only if you have time, though. I don’t want to bug you.” 
“You aren’t. And you won’t.” He finally looked at you again, resolve written on his features. “And I didn’t mean to lay this shit on you, either. I probably seem like the worst fucking hookup of all time.”
“I’ve had worse. Way worse, actually.” Winking at him, you reached over and squeezed his knee. “But in all seriousness, knowing where you stand is important, right? Set expectations from the beginning and no one gets in too deep.” Keep telling yourself that. “Have a safe flight, Frankie. Or flights, if you’ve got more than one today. Thank you again for everything. I’ll talk to you later.” 
You got out of the truck without saying anything more, but before you could climb into your car, you heard him say your name and looked up to find the driver’s side window down, his bent elbow resting against the open space. What? “Let me know when you hear about that apartment, alright? If you end up there, I can recommend some stuff in the neighborhood.” 
You assured him you would, and then with another nod, Frankie pulled away, the window rising as his truck moved. Even though you told yourself not to, you watched him go, only looking away when the truck disappeared from view. Shit. 
He wasn’t exactly sending you mixed signals - you were the one that suggested being on friendly terms, and what he’d told you laid out his expectations pretty clearly. But something was nagging at you - Frankie’s behavior not quite aligning with a true one night stand’s aftermath. It’s fine. I’m overthinking it. Lifting the mug to your lips and taking another sip, you laughed as you realized that no matter what, you would have to see him again - just as he’d so obviously planned. Oh, Frankie. Smiling to yourself, you unlocked your car. You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you. 
“Long night?” You spun at the sound of a voice, startled at the sight of Will leaning against the side of his car - a large SUV. “You look … well rested.” He was smirking, one eyebrow raised, and without even thinking, you lifted your hand and gave him the finger, the man’s laughter erupting from his throat. “Maybe you need more sleep. ‘Fish must’ve kept you up late.” 
“Very funny, Will.” He wasn’t judging you, though, the man’s posture loose as he watched your reaction. “How do you even know he -”
“I passed him on my way in. He waved at me.” Oh. That’ll do it. “You know, I give that man a lot of shit, but …” Will dragged his tongue over his lower lip and then reached up, rubbing at his beard with one hand. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him like he was last night. Comfortable with someone new. It was … nice.” Oh? That’s… interesting. “Just something for you to think about, y’know?” Will nodded slowly and then pointed at the front of the bar. “Gotta go in now, get shit ready to open, but what Benny said last night stands. Come back whenever - with or without Cat.” 
“Maybe I will.” He nodded, pushing off of the vehicle and stepping toward the door. “See you around.” You were inside your car before he made it to the door, starting the engine and tapping the address of the hotel into the NAV screen. 
You had a lot to think about - and even more to do, and thanks to Frankie, you didn’t need to stop for food on your way back to the room. I’ll go out later, you told yourself, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. Once I get some work done. 
And you did get work done after you got out of the shower, the hot water running over your body and soothing you the way it always did. But you would have been lying to yourself if you’d tried to pretend that while under the stream, you hadn’t let your thoughts wander to Frankie - to the way he’d touched you and made you feel. 
You worked for hours, finishing the mug of coffee and then some, making lists of potential locations to check out along with likely spots within those locations to focus on. You did what you did best - categorizing your findings based on intuition and what you knew to be true about the Chaos line, as well as the data you could gather on the previous attacks in the Tampa area. 
It was good work, and when you finally stopped to take a breath and consider dinner, you were pleased with your progress - and even more pleased with the locations that you’d found to use as cover while you looked into what you were really in Florida for. I have a place to start now. And tomorrow… tomorrow that’s what I’ll do. 
But the minute you shut your laptop and closed your notebook, your thoughts went back to Frankie, and the time you’d spent together. Closing your eyes, you could still almost feel the man’s hold on you - the way his palm had felt on your chest, the touch of his fingers and the press of his chest to your back. You could hear him, the noises he’d made seared into your brian. Stop it. Stop. You both know what last night was.  
Shaking your head, you stood from the desk and reached for your phone, surprised to see a missed call from Tom earlier that afternoon. I got denied. That’s the only possible reason he called so fast. 
But Tom’s message was the exact opposite - short and to the point, and when it ended, you stood in the center of your room, gripping the phone tightly in one hand. 
The homeowner had looked over your documents and references, and contingent on your background check’s results, was ready to accept the terms of your move-in offer. “As long as everything comes back good, you can come in on Wednesday and Thursday and sign the lease and hand over your deposit,” his voice through the speaker told you. “And then move in immediately after that. Might be premature, but … congratulations on findin’ something so fast. I’ll keep you updated.” 
“Oh, man.” Closing your eyes, you lowered your head. Things were progressing in record time - and once you were moved in, you wouldn’t have to worry about a housekeeper walking in and snooping through your stuff, which would make things even easier. It meant you could truly get lost in your work, surrounding yourself with your notes and everything your family had learned throughout the years. 
But there was something it also meant - a realization that your traitorous brain focused on much more quickly - and for much longer - than it should have. 
Once you moved into the guest house, you’d practically be neighbors with Frankie - and despite the assurances and declarations you’d both made that morning, you weren’t sure that either of you would be able to stick with them. 
— 
(one more attempt at a) tag list coming soon!
99 notes · View notes
thefloorisbalaclava · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I call this disappointed dad Frankie.
566 notes · View notes
albertasunrise · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
So I have decided to try and do Whumptober! I can not promise all the fics will be out on time but I'll do my best 😬 there is the addition of Ben Miller too!
Here’s who’ll get what:
1) Sick - Javier Peña
2) Insomnia - Joel Miller
3) Sensory deprivation - Marcus Pike
4) Hiding an injury - Din Djarin
5) Hostage - Marcus Pike
6) Forced to hurt someone else - Benny Miller
7) CPR - Frankie Morales
8) Panic attacks - Joel Miller
9) Scar reveal - Erza
10) Branding - Din Djarin
11) Paralyzed - Marcus Pike
12) Character death - Frankie Morales
13) Crushed - Din Djarin
14) Field medicine - Javier Peña
15) Self Defence - Benny Miller
16) Chronic pain - Ezra
17) Hypothermia - Javier Peña
18) Fever - Frankie Morales
19) Left behind - Din Djarin
20) Mutilation - Ezra
21) Shock - Marcus Pike
22) Nerve Damage - Javier Peña
23) Forced to watch - Benny Miller
24) Failed escape - Din Djarin
25) Nightmares - Joel Miller
26) Non-Consensual Touching - Din Djarin
27) Forgotten - Frankie Morales
28) Oxygen deprivation - Javier Peña
29) "The easy way or the hard way?" - Joel Miller
30) Coma - Frankie Morales
31) PTSD - Benny Miller
Happy Whumping folks!
50 notes · View notes
redahlia-writes · 11 months
Text
you make loving fun. | frankie morales x ofc
four. crystal
content (for this chapter): smut, family gatherings and That really annoying relative, a lot of feelings, a hint of possessiveness, frankie is once again being an idiot
word count: 5.8k
a/n: i'm so sorry for the delay, life's truly kicking my ass and i hope the chapter will make up for it. updates might be a little bit slow from now, but i'll do my best
reblogs and feedback are always greatly appreciated. you can send it here, too
series masterlist | masterlist
Tumblr media
previous
“For the first few months of their relationship, Fish didn’t even know it was a relationship. They moved in together, and still he would say stuff like she’s not my girlfriend, we haven’t talked about it, I don’t want to pressure her. Considerate, really, but so–Alba, chiquitita, cover your ears a moment–so fucking dumb. And that was how I knew. We’ve known Frankie a really long time, we’ve been together through a lot, and that was the first time I’ve seen him be so stupid–which is saying a lot. But, after all, isn’t that what love does in the beginning? It makes you foolish, nervous, doubt things you would’ve never doubted before. It was a new look on him, and it made it crystal clear how enamored he was, probably without even realizing it in the beginning–because I know he fell for Camila right off the bat. And I mean, how could he not? He called me, that first morning, and even then Camila was a surprise. Will said it all already–funny, kind, smart, beautiful, but most of all right. You were, and still are, right for him, Cami, the right person at the right time, and that is something rare, something great. Sometimes I think we should thank you more, because you changed Frankie’s life, and with his, ours too–mine for sure, because not only did I get to see my best friend finally start living again, but I also gained a sister. So, one Garcia to the other: thank you. That being said, it’d be nice to have him back every now and then–seriously, they’re practically glued together, can’t keep their hands to themselves to save their lives! I have some stories–”
Tumblr media
Frankie’s hand tightened slightly around the glass of water in his grip when he felt a hand clasping him on the shoulder, tight and all too buoyant, shaking him and forcing his eyes away from Camila, Alba and his mother–Alba was lying on her back over Verónica’s knees, the older woman laughing in her chair as the child stretched and let her head dangle back towards Camila, sitting on the grass and smiling.
“Who would’ve thought–young Cisco with an actual girlfriend,” the man at his side was grinning, a glaze clouding his eyes, mouth stained red from wine. “Well, not so young anymore, are you?”
“Takes one to know one, Nicky,” he retorted with a hint of a laugh, some of the tension melting from his shoulders when he saw Camila move again at the corner of his eye, could hear Alba’s loud giggles from his spot.
His cousin laughed, clearly not put off by his comment–he wasn’t trying to be mean, exactly, but out of all the people in the family currently gathered in his mother’s backyard–
“So you got one of the last good ones, huh?” he still had his hand on Frankie’s shoulder, standing a step back as they were angled towards the other three. Camila’s hand was underneath Alba’s head, supporting it up as she leaned in, brushing their noses together as the child giggled again. A small smile caught on Frankie’s lips, warmth spreading across his chest. “Man, and she’s good with the kid. You oughta keep this one.”
Frankie’s family wasn’t mean–they’d never given him too much shit for what had happened to him, for what he’d done, at least not to his face and certainly not to his mother’s, for they wouldn’t even be there if they had. But he’d gotten good at understanding people’s double meaning, at hearing the light shift in their voices. You oughta keep this one, not like the last one, or all the others before.
“Thanks, Nic,” he sighed–across the garden, Camila tilted her head as she looked at him. She quirked up an eyebrow, and he was quick to shoot a smile in her direction, the slightest shake of his head at her silent question.
“Fine, too, your girl,” he continued, clearly not put off by Frankie’s lack of trying at keeping up the conversation. “Young face, pity for the grays–I mean, she could always dye it,” he shrugged, before grinning and elbowing Frankie in the side, making him turn fully towards him, his lips pressed in a thin line as he inhaled deeply. “Although I’m sure she makes up for it plenty in–”
“Listen, Nicky–” he exhaled sharply, the sentence dying on his lips when he felt a hand brush up his back, from the lower side up–his shoulders sagged slightly, leaning towards Camila’s touch as she settled at his side.
“Sorry,” soft-voiced, she pulled his cousin’s perplexed gaze towards her, too. “I need to borrow Frankie for a moment–Alba spilled some juice on my dress and I could really use the help before it stains.”
“Oh, of course,” Nic cleared his throat, stepping back, his gaze flickering from one to the other–shy, all of a sudden. Frankie almost rolled his eyes, held in check only by Camila’s hand sliding into his, gently pulling him along.
“Alba wasn’t drinking anything,” he murmured, his head bowed slightly as they walked back inside the house. She shrugged lightly, then looked over her shoulder as she smiled–quick and amused, making him scoff. “Mila–”
“Just come with me for a moment,” she retorted before he could finish forming the protest. “Alba’s with Santiago and your mom, it’s alright,” she added as he went to speak again, walking past the kitchen and living room.
“I’m still not sure why he’s here,” Frankie muttered, making her chuckle and pull him slightly closer as she reached the stairs–he placed the glass on the closest surface at hand.
“According to him, he’s included in the family for the family reunion,” he got closer each step, his now free hand coming up to brush her hip. “Don’t get ideas, Morales,” she added, giving a delicate slap to the back of his hand.
“You’re the one getting me away from the rest of them,” he retorted as she pulled them both inside the bathroom–to which he arched an eyebrow, as if that was proof of his point even before she turned the key. “Really difficult to not get any ideas now,” Camila laughed, shaking her head before turning fully to face him, eyebrows slightly arched. “What?”
“Out with it,” she said simply, resting her hands on the countertop of the sink behind her back. Frankie frowned slightly, stepping closer again–she tipped her chin up to look at him, her gaze soft.
“With what?”
“You’ve been jumpy all day,” she told him, voice as soft as her eyes, and he wondered if he was truly that obvious or she simply knew him so well. “Your family is not so bad, you know? I mean, Nicky is–” she let the sentence hang, mouth turned in a grimace.
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” he sighed, and she shifted the weight on one hand to reach for his face with the other, cupping his cheek.
“You don’t have to apologize, honey,” she hummed, thumb brushing along the apple of his cheek, warm from the sun. “I like them–by now somebody in my family would’ve started a fight for sure,” she added with a quick grin that made him scoff out a laugh, gaze lowered. “But they’ve all been nice,” he must’ve tensed up again, because she tilted her head to try and meet his gaze. “Is that it?”
“No, it’s–I’m glad they are, it’s just–” her hand moved down across his cheek and jaw, pushing underneath his chin to get him to look up at last. “It’s nothing. Nicky said some shit, and he talked about me having an actual girlfriend or something,” he scoffed, gaze darting away and back–behind her, he saw their reflection in the mirror, her hair shifting with the movement of both her arms shifting up.
“Frankie, sweetheart,” her words carried her soft smile as she took his cap off, putting it aside because she held his face in her hands, looking at him with such tenderness in her eyes he almost crumbled in front of her, hands twitching at his sides. “So what?”
“I don’t know,” he groaned softly, eyes shut for a longer moment before letting out a long sigh. “We just never discussed it, and people keep bringing it up, and I didn’t want to pressure you or–” when he looked at her again, her lips were parted, brows knitted tightly with perplexity as he repeated, “I don’t know.”
“Pressure me?” her confusion bled into her voice, her touch getting a little hesitant for a moment–if he were to look past her head and into the mirror, Frankie would register the guilt in his gaze. Instead, he only noticed the realization dawn in her eyes. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry–I kept thinking I would bring it up and then never did and I was worried it would be too much, or too early,” he shifted back a little, her hands falling to his shoulders.
“Wait, so this is because he called me your girlfriend?” she asked, a little baffled. At his little nod, a quick laugh escaped her, and she pushed herself towards him. “Frankie, honey, we’ve lived together for two months,” she smiled as she said it.
“I know,” she locked her hands behind his neck, pulling him slightly closer in the process, fingertips pushing at the nape of his neck. “I just didn’t want to assume,” she laughed again, a little louder, and Frankie frowned once more, pouting slightly. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not, I promise I’m not,” she said quickly, getting herself closer, though still laughing. “I’m sorry, just–I thought there was nothing to discuss. You’re it for me?”
“You–” he was still frowning, a little deeper, and she let one hand move from the back of his head up across his face, gently kneading the spot between his eyebrows where lines were etched. “You’re still laughing. Camila–”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, unable to help herself as she shook her head through the laughter turned giggles, shifting her body weight so she was leaning against his chest. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her, keeping her upright and ducking his chin to keep his gaze on her face, the lines at the corner of her eyes deepening as her smile widened. “Why would you worry about that, honey?”
“You told me you thought you’d jumped in too fast with that guy,” he’d been that guy for months now, no longer Jason–Camila found some amusement in it, her nose scrunching up.
“I did,” she nodded, bringing a hand to his chest while the other still cupped the back of his head. “But you’re not him, and I’m no longer 20-something, so I’d like to think I’ve wised up,” Frankie sighed, carefully lowering his head towards her. “Then again, I’ve moved in with you after–what, eight months? So maybe–”
“Mila,” he groaned in half-complaint, making her laugh again before she tipped her chin up, kissing him in full. He sighed again, the tension in his back melting away as her fingers brushed through his hair, the other palm pressed firmly against his heart.
When she didn’t pull back, Frankie’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him and straightening his back to sweep her off her feet, taking the half step that separated them from the countertop to sit her there–he slotted himself between her legs, her back arching slightly as her lips parted for his tongue.
He kissed and kissed and kissed her until the rest of the world blurred away, until there was no Nicky or Jason, no Santi nor the rest of his family, just the two of them tangled together, sharing soft breaths and touches and the only thing grounding him was the weight of her against him, the shift of her body as he let his hands wandered back and thighs and legs, right underneath her dress.
“Are you gonna ask me, then?” she breathed out once they parted, heavy breaths from both of them and Frankie’s vision blurry for just a moment as he chased her, interrupted only by her soft words, the hint of laughter in them.
“What?” he licked his lips as if trying to cling onto the taste of her, fingers digging into her flesh. Her cheeks were red, bruised lips as she looked up at him while it all came back into vision for Frankie. “Is it–official?” her smile turned into a snort at the uncertainty in his tone, a shimmer in her eyes to highlight her amusement.
“You can do better than that, Francisco,” she murmured, mockingly, and he huffed out a breath as his lips quivered in a semi-pout. Camila leaned forward, kissing it away, but before he could chase her again she pulled back abruptly–one hand on his chest, the other falling behind her over the counter to support herself.
“You’re enjoying this too much,” he scoffed, letting his hands travel a little up across her skin, the skirt of her dress bunching up with the movement.
“Maybe,” she said with a light shrug, letting her hand travel down across his torso, lingering on each button–just teasing to undo them, Frankie’s eyes following the movement as his own fingers moved up and up. “You know what I’m going to say,” she murmured then, the tip of her first and middle finger hooking in his belt and pulling him forward ever so slightly, “ask.”
“I don’t need to ask,” he lowered his head towards hers, hooking his fingers at each side of her underwear–she squeezed her knees at his sides, humming softly as he pulled. “Do I?”
“Ask,” she repeated, lips still curved in an amused smile.
“Camila,” uttered as a warning before he kissed her again, a little harsher than before, almost feverish, pulling and pulling at her underwear that wouldn’t shift.
He could feel the laughter bubbling in her throat as she pushed against his lower stomach to make him step back, hopping down the counter to bare her lower half–Frankie kept his hands on her legs, her dress bunched up between the two of them, and slowly began lowering himself, ready to shift onto his knees in front of her.
“We don’t have time,” she mumbled against his lips, swiftly undoing his belt. “Later. Home.”
“Did you not tell me to not get any ideas?” his mocking question ended with a groan when she cupped her hand to his front, stroking his already half-hard length from above his briefs–his hips twitched into her touch, and he felt the grin forming on her lips at his immediate reaction.
“Ask me,” she replied instead, stroking him again.
Again, and again, until he was panting in her mouth, hips bucking with each movement–Frankie kissed her one more time before turning her around, her hands coming down against the counter for balance as he gently kicked her legs apart to slot himself closer, his still clothed front pressed against her back.
“I don’t have to ask,” he repeated, punctuating each word with a kiss to her neck, one hand to her hip as the other bared himself. Camila’s reflection smiled in the mirror, her head ducked as if hiding herself but not quite, as he pushed the tip of his length against the seam of her folds. “You’re my girl, aren’t you?” he murmured then against the shell of her ear.
Before she could form a response, her mouth fell open as he nudged at her entrance, slowly–agonizingly slow–starting to push into her. Her eyes rolled back and she nodded, soft gasps leaving her as she gripped the countertop, both of Frankie’s hands now on her hips, guiding her back to meet him.
“Look at you,” his gaze remained glued to the mirror as she tilted her head back towards him–her eyelids fluttered a moment, trying and failing to focus on their reflections as he kept going. “My beautiful girl,” another kiss to her neck, right behind her ear, making her shudder and rock her hips back. With a groan, his front pressed to her back as he sank fully inside her, he spoke against her shoulder, “mine.”
“’Course I am,” she panted, her thighs trembling slightly against his. “Yours,” at the word,  Frankie’s cock twitched, his grip on her hips tightening. “God–Frankie,” she moaned, back arching as her walls fluttered around him.
“Baby, you gotta keep quiet,” he mumbled, pushing forward so her hips were against the countertop, and he was leaning against her in turn. One arm wrapped around her middle to keep her flush to him, he let his other hand wander up across her torso, the fabric of her dress wrinkling underneath his touch.
“Thought you liked it when you could hear me,” her gaze flickered over their reflections, down to his rising hand and up to meet his eyes, a flush spreading from her heaving chest up and her lips slightly parted.
“Yes,” he shifted back, the slow drag of his length as he pulled out almost all the way making her breath quicken. “When I–” he snapped his hips forward, and Camila bit down onto her lip to keep herself from crying out, knuckles turning white as she gripped the counter a little harder, “can. Not the rest of the family.”
“We wouldn’t be here if that were a problem,” each word felt like it was punched out of her chest, Frankie’s movements steady, hitting a spot deep inside of her that had her vision wavering. “You enjoy the thrill, Francisco,” she added–not a question, rather her ability to read him so perfectly laid out in a tease.
And he did–he liked his life, his new one, with no drugs and very little alcohol, a steady, almost boring job, a home with the two halves of his heart, a bed with hogged blankets and slow nights. He loved that life–but sometimes he missed the rush, and Camila seemed to know exactly when he felt like he was starting to waver. Exactly what to do about it so that he wouldn’t topple over again, returning back to her each time.
“Fuck–don’t stop, don’t stop,” he’d gotten so lucky. He was so goddamn lucky.
The hand that had been traveling up her body moved up again, grabbing her by the chin to turn her head so that he could kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her, swallowing each sound away as he picked up his pace, his hips snapping against her skin almost too loudly–and only spurring him further.
A shiver ran through her as Frankie stopped with one last thrust, his head falling into the crook of her neck as he came–he tightened his hold around her, keeping her flush to his front. Her walls fluttered around his length buried deep within her, a weak, frustrated cry leaving her at his sudden stillness–he breathed out a quiet laugh before pulling his head up, chin hooked over her shoulder as he brought two fingers to his mouth, coating his fingertips before reaching for the apex of her core.
“My beautiful, beautiful girl,” Camila’s pupils were wide, eyes glazed over as she let her head loll back and sighed at his perhaps-too-delicate initial touch. Each of Frankie’s words was accompanied by a soft kiss across her skin–cheek and jaw and neck, his gaze never leaving her face as he began drawing quick circles over her clit.
“Frankie,” with a breathless cry, she grasped at his arm still wrapped around her, holding her upright. He kissed her neck, humming at her sharp intakes of air with each of his movements.
“I know,” he could feel her muscles grow taut under his touch, her thighs shaking as she got closer and closer–he groaned when she squeezed around his length, sensitive and softening as she tethered the edge. “Come on, baby, I can feel you–so good, you feel so good, baby, you–”
Camila twisted her neck and kissed him abruptly, harsh and trembling as her orgasm rippled through her–she quietened herself, the loud moan muffled by Frankie’s own bruised lips. He drank the noise greedily, slowing down the movement of his fingers until she twitched in his hold and dug her fingernails into the arm she was holding onto, a weak whine as she went limp into his hold.
He pulled out slowly, another softer moan escaping her as she folded forward, hands coming down to the countertop with a shaky exhale and equally shaky arms. His gaze remained low a moment longer, following the slow trail of their combined releases dripping down her thighs, and then he bowed down, kissed the space between her shoulders softly from above her dress.
“You alright?” he spoke softly, hands rubbing soothing circles on her bare hips as she evened her breathing, head hanging forward. She hummed quietly, rolling her shoulders back.
“I just need a minute,” she nodded, bringing her head upright again and wincing slightly. “Jesus–maybe two minutes,” she sighed, and Frankie chuckled softly, another kiss pressed against her shoulder as he tucked himself back in.
“Turn around,” he guided her by the hips tenderly, meeting her eyes for a brief moment in the mirror. “Let me clean you up.”
She hummed softly as she let him move her, leaning back again with her hands on the counter, her breath now even as Frankie recovered a clean towel from underneath the sink, turning on the water and waiting for it to turn lukewarm. Camila’s eyes remained on him as he moved, eyelids low and a tired half smile stretching across her lips.
He sank to the floor in front of her, gently brushing the towel up between her thighs, one hand on her calf rubbing circles with his thumb again against her skin, gentle and soothing. He helped her get dressed back up, smoothing down the skirt of her dress and pressing one last kiss to her now clothed hip before standing back up, mere inches from her.
“Promise me something,” she wrapped her arms around his middle, threading her arms underneath his. Frankie lowered his gaze to her still slightly flushed face, a small frown crossing his brow. “You’re gonna ask me whatever it is that crosses your mind, anything you want to–even if it’s something as banal as is my hair alright,” her fingers curled against his back, gently bringing him closer.
Frankie sighed, cupping her jaw in his hands before nodding–small movements, getting closer to leave a delicate peck against her lips.
“Promise,” he conceded, voice a little hoarse as he kept it low. “We should head back–you okay?” she nodded, mimicking his quick kiss before detangling herself from him and stepping aside, reaching for the door. “Wait, Mila,” he caught her hand as she unlocked the door, her gaze a little perplexed when she turned back around. “Is my hair alright?”
Camila laughed, a light roll of her eyes as she reached for the cap left on the countertop, putting it back on his head and pulling it low over his brow–he grinned in return, tipping his head back to keep his gaze on her.
“Better,” she nodded, wrinkling her nose before opening the door.
He pulled her under his arm once they were into the corridor, fixing his cap as she wrapped one of her arms around him again, bumping her hip with his while they stepped forward–and stopped at the stairs creaking, Santi’s head popping up with a deep frown that vanished as soon as he saw them.
“Ah, there you are–Alba’s been asking for you,” the other man said, looking at Camila, then made a face, somewhere between a pout and a grimace, muttering, “for some reason. Also, is it me or has Nicky gotten worse?” this he asked Frankie, his expression turning into a full scowl. His gaze then darted from one to the other, still tangled together, and surely somewhat guilty-looking–Camila’s face was still reddened, Frankie’s shirt slightly wrinkled, their hair just about messed up. Santi groaned, full on rolling his eyes. “Seriously? Gross.”
Camila laughed, loud and amused, leaving a rapid kiss to Frankie’s shoulder before sliding from under his arm, keeping her own open as she advanced towards Santi.
“Come here,” she said at his mock disdain, reaching for him. “Come on, Garcia–give me a kiss.”
“No, I don’t know where that mouth has been,” he argued, trying to step away and back down the stairs. Camila all but leaped for him, laughing again and throwing her arms around him–he quickly got his arms around her, too, keeping them both upright with a huff of protest as she smacked a kiss against his cheek. “Fish, will you keep your girlfriend in check?”
Frankie just watched them, the quick, purposefully sloppy kisses she peppered across his face from the upper step, his twisted expression as he tried to pull away but couldn’t make a move–they both knew it was an over-dramatization on Pope’s part, that he’d been basking in the affection Camila reserved for them all.
With one last kiss to Santi’s forehead–loud and possibly even sloppier, making him groan in protest–she skipped away with a laugh and a gentle pinch to his arm, one last glance in Frankie’s direction from above her shoulder with a wide grin across her reddened cheeks before walking down the stairs.
“What, no not my girlfriend?” Santi muttered, running a hand across his face before looking back up at Frankie–his gaze somewhat lost towards where Camila had gone.
“No, not this time, actually,” he said, clearing his throat.
“Oh, thank God,” Santi exclaimed, lifting his hands. “Seriously, fucking finally!”
Tumblr media
Frankie had gotten used to sleeping as close to Camila as he could get–whether she was curled up in his arms, her back pressed against his front, or her body draped across his, it was rare for them to roll on opposite sides of the bed.
Mostly because she still hogged most of the covers, and Frankie would wake up in the middle of the night with half of himself exposed to the room, and she would then complain his hands were cold when he sought out her warmth.
He didn’t mind it one bit–each excuse he could find to feel her skin under his hands, to wake up and know she was still there, would be enough to make him withstand anything.
And he always woke up first, taking a few moments before her alarm would go off to look at her sleeping, relaxed face, hair braided back and away, eyelids trembling as she seemed to be following her dreams, lips slightly parted to let out soft huffs of air–he would pepper her skin in quick, delicate kisses as soon as she turned off the alarm, tightening his arms around her.
But the alarm didn’t sound that morning, and when he glanced over her shoulder to where the clock was he sat up so quickly the whole room spun, dragging the covers with him before turning towards the already curling up woman, her face twisting in a still-asleep frown.
“Mila, we overslept,” he called, gently shaking her by the shoulder. She groaned softly, burying her face into the pillow. “Mila,” he tried again, and she turned in his direction.
“You overslept,” she protested, bringing a hand up to rub her eyes. “I have the day off,” she added in a mumble, head heavy on the pillow and exposing the sleep lines on her opposite side of the face. “Did you not set an alarm again?”
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, leaning in to press his lips to hers as he brought the covers back up over her while simultaneously sliding off the bed. “I didn't–you know I usually rely on you.”
“And that is twice you’ve made that mistake,” she mumbled, her eyelids drooping again, ever so slowly. Frankie scoffed, quick steps around the room as he searched blindly for some clothes. “I’ll take Alba to daycare, it’s alright.”
“Are you sure? You can go back to sleep,” he was still rummaging through the closet as he spoke, and suddenly the light was on and he could see the shirts hanging in front of him.
“I’m up already,” Camila groaned softly, and turning around he saw her sitting up, rubbing at her eyes again as she suppressed a yawn. Frankie’s expression softened as she kicked her legs off the bed, lingering there a moment with her head tilted forward slightly. “Go finish getting ready, I’ll make us some coffee.”
Frankie grabbed a shirt before turning around, padding across the room to reach her–he tipped her head back gently, hooking one finger underneath her chin before kissing her. Camila hummed softly, her eyelids fluttering open and shut and open again when he pulled back, thumb brushing along her jaw.
“See? I knew it’d be convenient for you to move in,” she snorted at his grinning remark, pushing him back with both her hands on his chest before getting up the bed, stretching as Frankie kissed her again, lips just at the corner of her mouth.
He passed by the living room once he was dressed, Alba sitting on the couch with her morning cartoons playing, hair still ruffled by the night–her breakfast was waiting on the coffee table, along with Camila’s empty mug.
“Morning, nena,” he murmured, placing a kiss to the top of her head. The child moved her legs, bouncing her feet and smiling and looking up at her dad. “Are you waiting for Mila?”
“Ma!” voice laced with sleep, Alba nodded, eyes squinting as she smiled. Frankie chuckled, ruffling her hair before heading towards the kitchen, leaving her to the images on the screen.
It was a new development, ma–an imitation of Frankie, of possibly the other children at daycare. The beginning of a word that signified much more for them both. The three of them, actually. Frankie’s doubts had dwindled with one single word, and he had started to tell her truly what went through his mind (almost everything).
“I’m sorry I woke you up,” he murmured as he walked up to her at the sink, one hand falling to her hip as he reached for the travel mug she was already offering him with the other. She smiled in the reflection of the mirror, taking the moka pot from the turned off stove. “I’ll set an alarm next time, I promise.”
“Heard that one before,” she chuckled, bumping her shoulder into his front as she gently leaned back into his half-hazarded embrace. “Go on now, before you’re late.”
“Thank you,” he kissed the curve of her neck–a peck, really, quick and non-committal. “I love you,” he added then, stepping back.
Camila’s head straightened abruptly, the sleep seemingly still clinging to her leaving her all of a sudden, and in the reflection he saw her eyes widen ever so slightly.
He told her almost everything.
Until that moment. He wasn’t sure he’d fully woken up just yet.
“Alright, bye,” he said just as quickly, a little louder, walking away before she could even begin turning around. Alba babbled for him from the couch and he went on, holding his breath through the corridor and entrance, down the steps and across the front yard until he reached the car.
Only then did he exhale, heavy and almost too loud as he leaned his head forward towards the steering wheel, almost hitting his forehead to the honk in the process, a soft groan abandoning him. I love you. Alright, bye.
“For fuck’s sake–” he muttered, bumping his head against the wheel again. “Alright, bye?” he grimaced. He jumped in his seat at the quick knocking against the window, pulling his head straight quickly and turning around, gripping the mug tighter to not topple it. “What–”
Camila stood next to the car, hair wild around her now that it was unbraided as she gestured at him to lower the window, bouncing ever so slightly on the spot. With a slight frown he did as she asked, and before he could form the question she was leaning into the car, grabbing him by the collar of the shirt to pull him closer and kiss him.
Frankie’s body relaxed, his eyes fluttering shut as he shifted in the seat and brought his free hand to her shoulder–he could feel her lean closer and closer, her torso sticking inside the car as she used his shirt as leverage and kissed him, kissed him, kissed him.
“I love you too,” she gasped, pulling back. Though his gaze was unfocused and he felt slightly breathless, dizzy, he managed to make out the shape of her body draped over the car door, legs dangling and the shirt of her pajama riding slightly across her back. “I thought you heard me already–a while ago.”
“What while ago?” he muttered, still a little dazed. He would think about her smile for the rest of the day, distracted out of his mind.
“I was talking with Alba, she couldn’t sleep,” the tip of her thumb brushed the side of his neck, right where his pulse was stuttering rapidly. “Telling her how much you love her–and I love her, and you,” she murmured, still leaning close, the tip of her nose almost brushing his.
“Well you didn’t tell me,” he could feel the pout on his mouth that seemed to only pull her smile wider. “I just thought–” she kissed him quickly this time, pulling back before he could register it, return it.
“Always a bad idea, honey,” she quipped, her eyes shimmering ever so slightly. “I told you, Frankie–you can tell me anything. Everything.”
“I know,” he sighed with mock defeat, leaning towards her until he was the one resting against the car door and she could touch the ground again, his head sticking out of the window. “Everything?” he asked then, looking up at her once she straightened.
“Yes,” she let her hand shift so it was cupping his jaw, thumb pushing gently into his cheek.
“You keep stealing the covers,” he whispered it, like it was a secret, and after the moment of initial shock Camila laughed. As she laughed, he turned his head to kiss her wrist, the heel of her hand, her palm, words murmured against the soft skin there– “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she repeated–she’d repeat it over and over from then on, whispered close to his ear or shouted from across the house when either one or the other left for the day, mumbled before falling asleep and just awoke. It’d always have the same effect on Frankie. “But I’m cold, so I’m not giving up the covers.”
“I know you’re not,” he chuckled, taking her hand in his to turn it around and kiss her knuckles, too. “I’ll just have to stick close, then.”
She hummed in assent, squeezing his hand in hers before leaning one last time, the kiss too brief for both their tastes–if it were up to them, that’d be where they’d spend the whole day, just as close to each other as they could get.
“I’ll see you later,” she said instead.
Frankie remained in the driveway a moment longer, watching as she ran back inside–still barefoot, a light skip in her step, and one last look over her shoulder towards him.
next
65 notes · View notes
lavenderursa · 1 year
Text
Kinktober 2022 - Day 10
Prompt: Drunk Sex
Tumblr media
An Evening With Monsters: Vampire!Francisco Morales x F!Reader
Triple Frontier!Monster AU - A 4 part kinktober mini-series.
Summary: A small inn just outside of town has stood opening it’s doors to peculiar people who live on the fringe of society. As a maid of the inn and adjoining tavern, you find yourself sharing more that a few words with several of your patrons. Never shying away from what makes them outcasts, you take a shining to the clientele on more than one occasion.
Wordcount: 2.9k
Warnings: NSFW, Consenting adult consumption of Alcohol, Implied Sex Work, Biting, Blood, Allusions to voyeurism, Descriptions of Blood, Oral (f receiving), Monsterfucking 
Notes: For kinktober I wanted to pepper in a bit of monsters. I’m currently reading A Lady of Rooksgrave Manor and it’s inspired me greatly as well as the wonderful Monster Universe created by my darling @bunniesofsteel​​. This will be a 4 part mini-series with a short prologue to introduce our setting and perhaps an epilogue. I do hope you enjoy!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“He likes when his company is… sweet,” your employer raised her manicured brows. They were dramatic at times, but contained a playful edge that was only heightened by the inflections in her voice. She slid a bottle of wine over to you. “I do not trust the others, frankly. They might see it as a weakness and he’s not one to turn your back on or to let him catch you attempting to swindle him.”
You’d only caught a glimpse of the man as he arrived at the inn just before sunrise. He wore an elegant yet simple suit, tailored to his tapered body that looked soft yet unyielding as he moved. His gait was almost prowled in stride with his gaze trained elsewhere as another maid led him off to the lower parts of the inn, ones rarely occupied.
“Francisco needs release and relaxation that his kind cannot imbibe like you and I. I know you will be sweet to him, I’ve seen your demeanor with our guests, even if you have not laid with any,” you fluster under her keen eye, unaware that she had observed that while you provided polite and entertaining conversation with her clientele, you had yet to share a bed with any.
“I’m not asking you to let him between your legs, but would you consider allowing him to drink from you and offer him stimulating conversation?” The others seem to grow bored quickly, that you noticed, instead shedding their clothing to steer their time in a different direction or to coerce more gifts from their lover of the night.
You couldn’t deny that you found him quite handsome, chestnut hair that seemed to sit atop his head in perfectly unkempt waves, or how his eyes met yours over the candlelight and sent a wave of shivers that pebbled your skin and settled between your thighs, threatening to buckle your knees before he disappeared down the stairs.
You cleared your throat, another wave flowing through you as if he held your gaze now. “Is he an in-incubus?” You had read of their proclivity for a sleeping body, one lazy on wine would offer no resistance, let alone one willing to do just that.
She laughed lightly, waving you off yet impressed at your knowledge. Something that the others did not care to glean or take part of in any way unless it affected their purse. “No, dear. He is a creature of the night. Part of the elegantly undead, a vampire. He only wishes to offer you the most succulent of kisses and the most clever and thoughtful words. The rest is up to you, I assure you he will not push and will not take more than you will give him.”
“He wishes to… drink from me as I would drink from the bottle?” You thumbed at the wax seal, knocking it slightly so the crimson liquid shrouded in darkened glass sloshed and slid against its container. The idea was not unpleasant, in fact you found it curious as you had only heard of one other patron who preferred to not chat with his own hostess for the evening, instead tilting their heads to expose the column of their neck that pulsed as he drove into them and latched out drawing a euphoric cry. Would you feel that moment of bliss after the shock of his sharpened teeth penetrating your skin? Would he insist you recite the knowledge that would dare present itself in a jumble under your certain inebriation?
Before she could finish confirming your query, the words tumbled from your lips. “Yes, I would like to spend the evening with Mr. Morales.”
“He will insist you call him Francisco,” the formality you often held for her visitors made her chuckle. “I shall let him know when he wakes and have a dress delivered to your room. Start sipping when the sun closes in on the horizon. He’ll be done with his business shortly after. Also, you’ll be pleased to know, he did ask for you if possible.” With that she dismissed you for the day and seemed to release a flutter of butterflies in your belly.
The dress was more revealing than you expected, leaving your neck bare just for him. You’d slipped it on after bathing, reveling in the lovely material as you hummed and sipped on the wine. The flavor was quite pleasant, not too sweet despite the notes of fruit and earth that you found danced on your tongue.
When the sun bedded behind the horizon and the sky turned inky and dotted with stars you left your room, the remnants of the bottle under your arm, glass in hand, and a candelabra held out to navigate the stairs which led under the inn.
It was much cooler under the building, the walls lined with stone. You’d been down a time or two to the cellar but had not cared to explore the other corridors. But now you found yourself at the end of one, setting down the fixture in your hands to allow you to rasp on the heavy door.
“Come in,” his voice rasped. It was low and dark, heavy as the brood he walked with when you had seen him earlier. The room inside was quite pleasant, lit in a golden light while the walls were draped with wonderful velvet and against one wall lay a large bed with a sitting area at the opposite. You did wish for a window, something to open the space but were more than happy to see the accommodations were just as thoughtful as the rooms above ground.
“Were you expecting a coffin?” Eyes flicking to his, he stood freshly bathed and fully clothed, less his coat. He motioned to the lounge big enough for the two of you where he could feast, you thought.
“Or we could talk for a bit first?” He spoke again, correcting what you were sure was your internal thoughts. His face held a slight amusement, which seemed to light up on its own now at your flounder.
“Did I say that out loud?” You swayed in place, the bottle more than half empty but your cup very full as you brought it to your lips to take a small sip and walked to where he offered you a seat.
“You did. Mind reading is not my gift,” He said rather somberly but just as quickly shook his head and any trace of sadness was no longer there, though his stare was quite focused on your own. Perhaps he was waiting for you to change your mind, or to yell at him to get on with it. He sat close, yet not too close, careful not to crowd you as you searched his face, taking in his handsome features. He had a rather staggered beard that suited him, giving him an edge while adding to the waves of hair that were equally unkempt, adding character that you were sure he had not considered.
“Do you regret not shaving before- before all this?”
At this he laughed, deep and delicious, relaxing at the same moment. “Sometimes. Would you like to feel? From my understanding, immortals feel different.” His eyes went quite innocent, as if sensing your curiosity that simmered under the surface.
“Different, in which way?”
At this he shrugged minutely, leaning close to allow you to reach his face. Fingers outstretched, you closed what little space remained only to have him let out a quick snap towards your fingers which released a small cry from your chest and a hearty spill of wine which luckily missed your dress.
He huffed a low bark of a laugh as you reached out to tap his face, “Oh you!” you laughed. Heat rising and heating your skin at his tease, only to grow stronger as his large hand took hold of your wrist and soft lips pressed to your fingertips.
“May I offer you a drink, Mr. Morales?” your touching lingering and tracing over the soft bow. While the wine had left you far more fearless, your wits were about you and his moment of playfulness and softness solidified that you were open to more than talk and drink if he was as well.
“Please, tesoro.” He murmured, bringing your wrist close to bestow another kiss against your skin. “Call me Francisco.” At that, lips parting he pressed his tongue, hot and wet against your pulse, gripping your wrist firmly and drawing you in further.
He was careful and delicate, not biting with hesitation or harshness, but dragging his teeth over your skin and offering a sweet suckle before sinking his fangs in and breaking your skin. A rush of pain radiated from where the crimson trickled out to land on his lips and coat his tongue. Quickly it faded to a dull throb that mirrored elsewhere on your body as his lips closed over and his dark eyes, the color of burnt caramel, flutter shut and a delicious groan rumbled from his chest. Your mirrored him with a moan of your own, the throbbing sensation finally settling at the peak of your sex, your clit begging for attention.
Would he be willing to bite you there? Relieve the ache that so suddenly built as he savored your blood? Would it feel just the same or different?
“What are you thinking?” You hadn’t noticed him release your skin, licking his lips clean as he applied pressure to your wrist, kissing your fingertips once more before laying it in your lap. “So sweet.” You swore his lips pinked, though that was impossible. He had no circulation or heartbeat of his own.
You averted your gaze, putting your glass down to as a bit about himself. Waiting for the wine to settle for you both before offering him another sip. He was kind and endeared to offer you a number of answers to your questions while the space between you grew less distant and the wine from your glass disappeared.
“You aren’t like the others,” he said, running a finger along the column of your neck, lapping at the twin punctures he had bestowed mere moments before. He lapped at the blood, holding you close. The weight of his body pressed to you but allowing you room to move should you need, and your fingers threaded in his hair, scratching at his scalp. Vampires did feel… different. Light yet just as heavy with a touch of care and consideration for the space around them.
“Hmm? What do you mean?”
“Well, you haven’t pushed me away or asked me how many others I’ve… drank from.” He paused, his eyes growing darker as if to sober slightly. “You haven’t asked me for more payment and you are so- so curious.”
“How can I not be? How often does one find themselves in the pleasant company of a vampire?”
“You must here, working at an inn such as this?”
You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. There was a strangely comfortable intimacy between you. Most likely due to the wine that had been consumed, now by you both in a way. You were agreeably warm, feeling yourself relax and mold to the man who had you essentially pinned down.
“Are you embarrassed, tesoro. I didn’t mean to imply-”
“No, no. You would be my first, um, here. First anything since I started working here and I am unable to deny the fascination I felt when you walked into the inn.” The wine was making your tongue a little too loose, but it did not do well to pussyfoot around such things in your experience.
Some appreciated frankness and Francisco seemed to be just the type.
“What kind of fascination, tesoro? I hope the same that filled me at the sight of you, that had me requesting just you and had me quite excited at a night in your company. Nothing more,” he held you still, by the waist. His weight pressed to you just so as he measured your face, seeing the growing want of his own reflected back. “Only what you want to give.”
“I- hmmm,” You wanted to avert your gaze, perhaps the words you wished to speak were floating in the air. The edges of them caught alight by the candles that burned brightly, sending smoke signals of your growing desire. The thought to speak them instead of reaching for more drink quickly overtook, for your courage might not be found at the end of the next bottle as much as a sure night of sleep instead.
“I wonder, Mr. Morales,” his brow shot up at the formal use of his name, "what your kisses would feel like…elsewhere.”
“Elsewhere.” He gruffed, shifting upwards to meet your eyes, you moved to make room, spreading your legs wide to accommodate him better and reveal the soft skin of your thigh, knee fallen open in invitation.
“Mmmhmm, yes.”
He had, you found, hands that were quite striking. Large and elegant, yet reflected years of work that he must have done in his mortal life. You hoped to hear the stories of that time, but not now. You wanted them to hold you tighter, wrap around your wrist once more, perhaps hold your neck, and even more the desire to have them inside of you. They were larger than your own, the feel would be quite exquisite and different. Something that only your vampire could do, perhaps, before he showed you more.
As if to read your mind, he moved to do just that. His fingers dancing over the thin and now sodden fabric covering your sex. The blunt and well manicured tip finding your seam to run up and down, up and down before taking a moment to circle your clit. The bud that made your back bow and you’d felt beat in time with your pulse as he drank from you as if it were all connected and tangled.
“Here, tesoro? You want a kiss here?”
He pressed between the defined crease, the wet warmth of you inviting him in. It felt wonderful, even if his skin was not as warm as it should be, it almost burned to have him touch you there where you wanted, no, needed relief.
All you could do was nod, head lolling back and fingers pulling at the loose coils of his hair, pulling him closer. All you could do was nod and croak out a whimpered whisper. “Please, Mister Mo- Francisco.”
With deft fingers, he removed any barrier between you, sliding down your body to nestle his head between your thighs. His breath fanned at your warmth, the slickness that wept from your cunt cooled by his breath as he peppered lewd kisses against the inside of your thighs, sucking the skin between his swollen lips and nipping ever so lightly. He wouldn’t break the skin just yet.
He shifted you, the moans that escaped your lips only encouraging him to fix you the right position with your leg over his shoulder and your other bent at the knee, pushed aside to spread you wide. All of you exposed to him, swollen and wet, waiting for his kiss.
“Tesoro.”
You were sure you harmonized as his tongue bridged any remaining space between you. Driving between the delicate petals of your core, a phrase you once scoffed at but now the thought of doing just so did not cross your mind. He worked at you like a man starved for air, a man out to conquer and make what he sought his own, marked and scorched by him in a way that no man after would ever be able to undo.
He laved at the soft skin, tongue dipping into your entrance and moaning at the taste he had recognized in the air, had hoped you would invite him to, and now he did not know how he would ever live without.
When he reached your clit, the peak swollen and aching, he wrapped the lips you knew so well around it, sucking and lapping as you wiggled in his hold, hips bucking up once, twice to meet his ministrations.
“Francisco,” you moaned, eyes pinched shut and mouth slacked when the euphoria that filled you, blooming and seeping into every muscle. You wanted more from him, wanted him to fill you, to feed from you, wanted him to make you his. And as you started to come, curling into yourself, legs fighting the hold he had on you, and nails clung tight, he gave you one final harsh suck that released a cry from your throat, stars exploding in your eyes.
In that moment he turned his head to the spot he had mapped out on your thigh, so soft and waiting, perfectly set for him to feed but not hurt, pull you through once more as he feasted on more of your nectar. The bite did not hurt, nor did it sting. All you felt was another pull, another break to the strained tether of your coherence as he drank and brought you down, working you through the aftershocks and shivers.
When he finally emerged from between your legs, lips blushed with you and eyes blown inky black, you reached for him, hauling him to you and capturing his lips in a breathless kiss that tasted of something new and addictive.
Your gentleman vampire would be your ruin.
Tumblr media
Thank you for reading!
Tumblr media
222 notes · View notes
icanbeyourjedi-writes · 7 months
Text
It Was Just A Dream Chapter Three
Tumblr media
Summary: Going back to work was easy, hearing that Alex has a date is not.  Frankie spirals at the news, and what happens next could change the friendship.  Words: 7,591 Rating: 18+ Adult Themes Warnings/Triggers:  Addiction, Falling for Your Brothers Friend, Language, OFC is somewhat described as someone with longer hair, but no race/eye color/body type   A/N: I don’t know much about addiction, just the things that I googled and seen portrayed on TV. This is completely an AU. I had the beginning of this story pop in my head randomly and thought it sounded fun to explore. Sure we all love Frankie was that sweet puppy dog…but what if he had his own inner demons he had to battle with.  The ‘coke charge’ was mentioned in TF and I kinda wanted to explore that side of him. 
Thank you to @theewokingdead for the beta
**This is written as a  first person, and it's my first time writing in first person, so please be gentle with me. I also include Frankie's POV which will be Bold
Tumblr media
Frankie Morales, 25, a talented pilot, Army Vet and now sticker enthusiast. I don’t think I have ever spent so much time in the sticker aisle. We’ve been here for at least an hour and I am sure the pile of stickers in the basket are already at fifty bucks.  But I can’t help it, he’s excited, he’s smiling and I see the old Frankie. The Frankie before he got hurt. 
“Lex…Lexi they have vampire teeth!” he races over to me dropping the stickers into the cart joining the helicopters, military helicopters, cats, cat paws and of course who could forget catfish. And because that wasn’t enough he added tropical fish to the pile as well. 
“I‘ve created a monster” I sigh to myself. I start to think this crazy thrown together idea might actually work. I’ve never been in his shoes. I don’t know what he deals with, what he has dealt with. But I do know a reward system works. It works for the kids who come into the doctor's office. Get the shot, get a sticker or a sucker depending on the doctor. 
Frankie walks back towards me with one more package of stickers, fire trucks. I look at him and he just shrugs, the other stickers made sense. They all fit him; cat, fish, helicopters, “what?” He shrugs “when I was a kid, I thought about being a firefighter”
“You’ve always wanted to help people?” I ask 
He pulls the brim of his worn out baseball cap and drapes his arm over my shoulder, a small nod. Over the years I have been able to learn his mannerisms and his ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ look. This was that look. Hat pulled down, eyes on his feet, biting his bottom lip. 
“Think we have enough?” I ask quickly changing the subject
“Maybe” his voice still soft 
15 packages of stickers and $50 dollars later, I hope this plan works. I know he is going to have to eventually go to classes, especially when that voice gets loud. But it’s day four and I still have some hope. We stop for some takeout. Pizza, it was quick, easy and who doesn’t love a good slice of pizza. 
Tumblr media
I lean back on the couch, Frankie finishing his slice and pushes his plate away. He picked the movie tonight…his choice of movie completely shocked me. The final scenes of ‘Bridesmaids’  starts to play, as the two characters start to sing “Hold On”. Frankie leaning against the arm rest. His hand tapping against his leg as he hums along. I can’t help the smile on my face as I watch him. He slowly starts to sing the words. Quiet at first until that first chorus hits.  
“…things will go your way, if you hold one for one more day…” he sings along, eyes closed fully in the moment. 
I will be fully honest with you. When I told Frankie he could pick the movie tonight. I was expecting Top Gun, Saving Private Ryan, maybe even Green Mile. I never would have guessed that he liked the RomCom genre. I turn to face him, he has my attention as he continues to sing. It’s only when I giggle that he opens his eyes and looks at me. 
“What?” 
“Nothing,” I smile. It was cute, he was relaxed, he for another brief moment was the old Frankie. I want to keep him like this “uhm so you know I start work tomorrow” 
“I know” he sighs. He sounded disappointed 
“Can I have your phone?” I ask 
Without hesitation he reaches into his pocket and hands it over to me. I touch the screen and it lights up with what else but a helicopter as his photo. I touch the screen again and enter in the passcode “it’s your birthday” I hear him say. 
“I know” I look up and smile at him. 
I asked him once, why it was my birthday. Instead of his girlfriends, or his…or literally any other four digits he could have picked. I don’t want to forget your day, he said. He rubs the back of his neck, a tell that he doesn’t know what to say next. 
She’s right, it’s been her birthday since the day I met her. She was one of the few who listened when I talked. Cared how I was feeling, she was the only one to send me care packages and letters when I was away. My own girlfriend never sent me a care package. 
I watch, she has her tongue peeking out of her slightly parted lips. She was concentrating, she looked beautiful, but she always did. I don’t know why I handed my phone over so willingly. But the truth is, I would do anything she asked me to. I’d take a bullet for her with no hesitation. 
“Ah-ha, there it is” she says and I can’t keep his eyes off her. 
“What are you doing?” I finally asks
I watch as her finger slides up the screen, “deleting your friend George” she responds matter of factly. “Frankie, I trust you. I do. But you're going to be alone. I just…I don’t want you to feel like you need to contact him” 
She was right, smart even. It had been a few weeks since I had talked to ‘George’. But I didn’t think she knew how easy it would be for me to get something if I needed it. George wasn’t his only source. I didn’t want to use, I wanted to be better. But the struggle of staying clean was getting harder as the drugs left my system every day. 
“And I’m adding my work number incase you can’t get me on my cell” she clicks the button on the side of the phone and hands it back over. “I also think…it might be good to find a class or two to go to while I’m at work” 
“You don’t want me to be alone” I groan. The mere thought of having to go around in a  ‘share your feeling’ circle had me panicking. I watch as Steve’s name flashes across the screen asking if he has been ok. It’s been well over a month since I had texted him for a supply. And no, despite my best efforts he wasn’t ok 
“You know you could always call Nicole” I don’t know why I said that, I really don’t want him to call her, “she’s a nurse at a rehab facility. She would know what to do” she would and that’s what I hate the most. She would know how to help him in more ways than one 
“Lex, you know you can have meaningless sex with someone. You don’t have to like the person…” 
I pretend to be shocked by his statement. My number was a lot smaller than Frankie’s. Ok he probably had double maybe triple the partners than me. I know you don’t have to be in love with the person, I know you don’t even need to know their name. But call me old school, I like to have it mean something. 
“Yeah, I know that, but thanks for reminding me” the words sound a lot harsher than I intended. “Look, I’m just saying you're going to be on your own, and I’m proud of how far you’ve come. But I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t want to worry.” 
I remember the day I found him slouched at the picnic table. If I would have been a few more minutes we might not be sitting here right now. I really don’t want to think what would happen if I don’t get to him in time and he OD’s while I'm at work. 
Tumblr media
I keep checking my phone to see the time. My body is at work, and I am going through the motions, checking patients in. Answering phones. But my mind, my mind is at home with Frankie. I wonder what he is doing.  Has he had lunch, did he take a shower, did he change? Did he do a line of coke, did he call Nicole? 
I reach for my phone when the bell on the door chimes. My head still down when Laura elbows me in the rubs and I look up seeing a drop dead gorgeous man walk in the door. Short brown hair, styled in that way where it looks he ran his hands through it after a shower and called it good.  It looked so soft. Sun-kissed skin, a Romanesque nose.  Wearing a suit that fits his shoulders and muscles just right. He had a profile that romance novel authors write about.
“That’s the new sales rep I mentioned” Laura whispers as he walks closer to our receptionist desk
“Good afternoon ladies” he says with a smile that you just know gets him exactly what he wants every time. His voice is like butter, and damn can someone be attracted to a voice?
I smile at him, glancing at Laura who looks like she is about to pass out 
“Hi” she says, batting her eyelashes at him, “what did you bring us today?” 
“Just some new test gowns for patients. They are easier to tie when alone” he smiled again and I swear there is a twinkle in his eye 
“Oh hi, I’m Dave. I don’t think we’ve met before” he looks at me and I am pretty sure my heart stops with the way he’s looking at me 
“Al…Al” why can’t I remember my name 
“Alex” Laura coughs
“Hi…hello, yeah I’m Alex. Alexandra” I return his smile and shake his outstretched hand. My heart beats faster as our hands touch and my face feels hot 
His hands are soft, gentle but strong. I don’t know why but I don’t want to let go of his hand. After what I am sure is an extremely awkward amount of time he is pulling his hand away. I could be imagining it, but his eyes stay locked on mine. “It was really nice meeting you Alexandra. You ladies have a good afternoon and I’ll see you next week” 
I don’t say anything, I just sit there and nod like. Weirdo while Laura waves bye to Dave as he heads out the door. 
“Who the fuck was that?” I ask once my brain starts to function again 
“Dave’s our new sales rep and we’re in love” she smiles “he just doesn’t know that yet” she twirls her long blonde hair around her finger. 
Laying on the couch, my hands under my head.  I’m counting the little black specks I find on the ceiling. 
3,452
Did the day always go by this slow?  It feels like it’s been 12 hours…I look at the clock. It’s been three. It wasn’t even time for lunch yet. I was beyond bored, if I was in rehab I would be looking for excuses to not go to the round table therapy. Finding new ways to avoid talking, waiting for Nicole to co-I closes my eyes. 
After a few moments I sit up and make my way to his room, still sitting on his desk untouched was the stack of pamphlets that cop gave me. I pick one up and start to look at it. ‘Let us guide you’. I roll his eyes seeing a picture of a business type man, standing with his hands in his pockets in the front of a podium. 
“Nope” I pop the ‘p’ not even bothering to open it and drop it in the trash
The next one, a few men and women in military fatigues. In big bold letters, ‘FIND YOUR HIGHER POWER’ a class for veterans run by veterans. I rub his face, the VA rehab didn’t work and this for sure wasn’t gonna help. “No, thank you” I toss it in the trash with the other one. 
It felt like an hour had passed, I knew she should be home soon.  I looks at the clock on the night stand, it was 20 minutes.  There was a small part of me that wanted a hit.  She’s at work, she’ll never know.  My hands twitch, I pick up his phone, my fingers hovering over Steve’s name…
I know I shouldn’t, I’ve been trying to stay clean.  I wants to stay clean, but every fiber in my being wants a little fun.  A notification appears, a new text message and my heart stops for a brief moment.
I was ready for the day to be over, I wanted to go home.  I wanted to check on Frankie, make sure he was doing ok.  But, I still had hours to go, calling him every hour felt like I was babying him and I didn’t want that, but I was also worried that being alone the temptation was going to be too much.  I deleted George, but I knew he had others, I knew if he wanted it bad enough he’d find a way. 
     Me: Hey, How’s it going?
     Fishie 🐟: Have hours always ticked by this slowly?
     Me: Valid question, I don’t know.  But it feels like I have been here for a week, and I still have two hours left. 
     Fishie 🐟: It feels like you have been gone for a year.                          I need paint.
Crap, why in the hell does he need paint? What did he do?
     Me: Why? Franklin, what did you do?
     Fishie 🐟: I fixed the hole in the wall
     Me: Thanks, you didn’t have to do that.  
     Fishie 🐟: Well I am the reason there was a hole, I needed to fix it
I can’t help but smile, my heart melts a little at his words.  I remember that night, it was the first time I think I was scared of him, what he could do.  The anger in his eyes, the way his nostrils flared.  He’s never hurt me, he’s never laid a hand on me, except for our awkward hugs.  But I have never seen that look, the look of rage, horror and pain.  I can honestly save it’s a look I hope to never see again.  I responded telling him I will stop on my way home and I would grab some dinner for us. 
Tumblr media
With paint in one hand, and a bag of food in the other I walk in the door, shouting a little ‘honey, I’m home’ kicking the door closed behind me and making my way to the kitchen to set the bag of food.  He didn’t respond.  I don’t know what I was expecting, Frankie running out and wrapping me in a hug.  Frankie squealing with excitement, I don’t know.  Really I was expecting anything to let me know that he heard me. I set the food on the table and go in search of Frankie.  
His bedroom light is on, I move closer but I don’t hear anything.  I turn to the open door and find him lying on the bed.  Not sure if he is asleep, I tap on the door gently before I step in.  I know it's my house and all, but he still deserves respect for his privacy and me not just walking into his room.  I thought I was being quiet but his head instantly lifts up to see me walking into his room before lying down again. 
“Do you know how many little black specks there are in this room?” he asks his voice flat
“What?” I look up to the ceiling, honestly I didn’t even know there was black speck in the paint.  I never changed the ceiling paint color when I moved in.  It was white and I just kinda left it
“There are 2,873…” he says sitting up, “and there are 3,452 in the living room” 
“Hmmm” I comment still looking up, what do you know if you look close enough there are little black specks
“There are 643 in the bathroom” he moves closer, wrapping my entire body into a bear hug, “I was really fucking bored without you” 
I don’t know if I should smile or be seriously concerned about this. I wrap my free arm around his waist returning his hug.  He took a shower today, and he smells amazing.  He smells like Christmas.  Cinnamon, fennel and pine.  There’s also something so uniquely Frankie that I can’t put my exact finger on it.  He has clean clothes too I notice, and while the counting of the little black specks has me worried.  I am proud of him for taking small steps without me telling him to shower.
“I got a surprise for you” I grin and pull back from the hug
“More stickers?”
“Why don’t you go to the kitchen and find out” 
I watch as he all but runs to the kitchen, I stay by his bedroom and he cheers when he sees the bag of Thai food on the table. ‘THANK YOU’ I hear him yell.  The feelings I get are indescribable, it feels like he has been living here with me for years. As each day passes I think I am falling in love with him.  I can’t fall in love with him, my brothers will kill me if I did. 
“I found a NA meeting place…class?” he says putting more food on his plate
“That’s great” 
“It’s a few nights a week.  The paper said I can go once a week or to all of them” 
Maybe having something planned in my schedule would make the day go faster.  Knowing I had something to do might help my mind not think about it.  I was so close to texting Steve for a few rocks.  Just a few…enough to get by until Benny was home again.  Hell I was close to texting Nicole just to have something, or someone to do.  I’ve been living with Alex for a little over a month, and while things were good I wanted to go home.  Benny would give him my space, I could get fucked up and Benny would never notice.  That, and I was falling for Alex. I can’t fall for her, she was off limits.
“I think that’s great” she smiles at him.  She’s proud of me, the smile on her face says it all, “maybe you can find ways to help fight the urge.  Find out how I can help you” I nod “cuz I have no fucking clue what I am doing”
The next day wasn’t any better.
Lunch had rolled around and Laura had left me alone at the desk. It was a slow day, so the workload was pretty easy. I finish up a phone call when the little bell on the door chimes letting me know someone had walked in.  I love up and see Dave walking towards me, damn was he hot. I smile at him and put the phone down.
I notice he doesn’t have anything in his hands this time, like he did yesterday.  Maybe Laura and him were really a thing. 
“Hey Dave, Laura is at lunch if you wanna come back” 
“I actually came to see you” his lips curve up, and there was that damn gleam in his eyes again
“Oh?” Was the best response I could think of at the time
“So, I know we just met and this sounds kinda crazy but…” he starts
“Here’s your number so call you maybe” the fuck was that Alex I think
He laughs, ok maybe that response wasn’t as bad as I thought.  Why did I become so socially awkward when a handsome man was standing in front of me and I think he was flirting. 
“Something like that, I was wondering if you might like to join me for dinner on Friday?” he asks 
Wait, is he serious? Did he just ask me out?  Is this really happening?  I think my brain stopped working for a few moments, then I heard his voice again “Alex?”
“YES” I say a little to loudly, he chuckles “yes, Dave that would be great”
We exchanged numbers, he said he’d pick me up on Friday around 8 for dinner. 
Tumblr media
I stood by the front door, adjusting my hair one last time before Dave was to arrive.  Frankie watched me like a hawk from the couch. Ever since I told him about my date, he had been weird.  Not wanting me to leave his side when we were home. I didn’t know what was going on, he was being clingy and we weren’t even dating. 
“Where are you going?” He asks
“I have a date, I told you” I sigh 
“And your wearing that?” 
She was in a little black dress.  The hem stopped mid thigh, it hugged every single one of her curves perfectly.  The deep v-neck not leaving much to the imagination.  The small strings holding it together in a complicated, twisting pattern down her back.  There was no way I was going to let her be going out of the house like this.  I didn’t know Dave, but I didn’t need to know exactly where his thoughts were going to be seeing her dressed like this. Her hair was effortlessly curly tonight, flowing like a wave down her shoulders.  She looked like an angel in every sense of the word. Her makeup was simple, enhancing her beauty and I was jealous of this guy getting to take her out. 
“Yes, is there a problem?” She slips into her black stilettos that only enhanced her long toned legs
“Yeah, there is” I was angry that she was going out with this man who was probably better than me in every way. “You look like a…a…” I stutter
“A what Francisco?” She hears a car pulling into her driveway and she grabs her dark green leather jacket
“Fuck, you just..ugh…you like Iike your asking for it” I finally says and the doorbell rings
‘Shit, did I really just say that?’  I wanted to be Dave, he wanted to be the one taking her out for dinner.  I wanted to be the one she was wearing a dress like that for. My heart has belonged to her, but I am to much of a dumbass to do anything about it
“Fuck you, I’ll be back later” her words laced with anger as she opens the door.  “Hey Dave, lets go” her voice suddenly cheerful as she slams the door closed behind her. 
Strike two…at this rate I might as well pack up my shit and leave before she gets back. She is the one working, she is the one providing for me while I sit in my room feeling sorry for myself counting stupid little black specks of paint on the ceiling. I went to one class and hated it.  I reach for my phone on the coffee table
“Hello?” The voice on the other end answers
“Hey, wanna get fucked up tonight?” I ask
“Never thought you asked.  I got some good stuff, meet at Hangers?” 
“Yes please. Let’s do this, I need to forget” 
Talking with Dave was easy. The conversation flowed and there was never an awkward moment.  Dave told me about his time working for the FBI, crime scene detective but things weren’t working the way he wanted to, he felt trapped and wanted something else.
“So now you try to convince people to buy overpriced medical supplies?” I grin  
“I can be very convincing when I want to be” he smiles, “I convinced you to go out with me” 
“Fair” 
I should be enjoying my time with this handsome man sitting in front of me, I shouldn’t be thinking about Frankie.  But that is exactly what is happening. We’ve had a rough few days, ever since I told him about my date that afternoon and I hate that we got into an argument before I left. Dave had asked if I wanted to go for a short walk around the lake and with my mind only half functioning I agreed to it.  His fingers slowly intertwine with mine. 
We stop in front of a little fountain with a small stringed band. A violin, a cello, and a harp play lovely music.  Dave spins me and places a hand on my waist as we sway to the music. I placed a hand on his shoulder, there was a part of me that thinks he had this entire thing planned. It was too perfect, then there’s the hopeless romantic in me that is loving every minute of it.  We continue to dance as more couples join us. 
“I use to be in a band” his lips brush over my ear sending a shiver down my spin
He pulls back smiling at me, my fingertips gently playing with the short hair at the nape of my neck.  He leans in closer to me and I close my eyes waiting for our lips to touch when I hear the undeniable ringtone ‘Highway to the danger zone…’ begins to play from my back pocket.  Trying to ignore the call, I pull Dave’s face closer when the song begins to play again.
“Shit, I’m sorry” I shake my head and back away from him.  I don’t even look at the name on the caller ID to know it’s him. “What do you want now?” I answer a little annoyed
“Ms. Miller?” 
“Very funny Franklin” I don’t hear a laugh from the other end “Frankie?” 
“Is this Alex” the voice says again, it’s hard to hear over the music and crowd hum in the background 
“Yes it is, is everything ok?” sudden panic washing over me
“Hi, I’m Clint, down at Handlebars, and your friend here is very intoxicated and might be on some kind of drug. But he is trying to start fights with other patrons. I do what I can to not call the cops, but ma’am he is getting out of hand, and I need you to come get him” the voice becomes clearer
“Fuck,” I pinch the bridge of my nose, “I’m not close its going to be a little bit before I can get there” 
“We have him sitting outside at the moment, but if he tries to punch someone again, I will have to have the police involved” 
“Can I talk to him for a minute?” I ask 
Why was he doing this?
A couple lines of coke, two beers and a half dozen of tequila shots later I was feeling pretty damn good. I was currently in the bathroom, with some blonde chick's lips on my dick. I knew I wasn’t going to last long after all the shit I’ve  taken but damn did it feel good. 
“Shit…” I mutter, gathering her hair in a fist behind her head, bracing myself against the sink with the other. One more deep throat by her and I was a goner.  My cock still pulsing as she lets me go. Standing up, she wipes her face before leaning in giving me a sloppy kiss. 
“That was fun…” she pats my cheek, “…find me again some time” she flips her hair back unlocking the door she steps out leaving me alone. Pants still around his ankles, heart racing as I try to catch my breath. 
I reach over and locks the door, grabbing a paper towel I turn on the water and clean myself up.  I look at myself in the mirror, my eyes red with dark circles below them. I look like I had aged 15 years from just this morning. I should be feeling great, I finally had cocaine back in my system, I was buzzed, and I just got a free blow job from Kitty? Maybe that was her name. Frankly I didn’t care, I also forgot the minute her lips touched mine. The only thing I could think about was how disappointed Alex was going to be in me. I should go home. 
I step out of the bathroom and make the trek back to the bar next to Steve. Walking past the set of pool tables I stumble into a big burly biker. Leather vests, tattooed arms, a bandanna wrapped around his head with a long salt and pepper beard. 
“Watch where your walking” the man grunts 
“Make me fucker” I slur 
The large man shoves me from behind making me stumble into a table full of empty glasses. I turn around, bringing my fist back. I go to punch the man who shoved me. My hand moved slowly then my brain was working and the large biker threw his own punch hitting me on the check. A gash opens along my cheek and blood begins to flow. A bouncer steps in pulling us apart. He drags me outside, and sets me on a bench around the corner of the building. 
Steve is nowhere to be found and now a young punk looking kid is yelling at me for disturbing the peace inside his bar. Demanding me to give him my phone before threatening to get the police involved. Begrudgingly I unlock the phone and hand it over. 
“Ms. Miller” I hear him say 
Shit…strike three. 
The man handed me my phone back, I shoved it in his pocket. And with that he was gone leaving me alone with the bouncer. I lean back, head hitting the brick wall behind me. The high I was feeling moments ago, now fading realizing that there is a 95% chance that Alex was not going to forgive me. 
“Thanks, I am so sorry” I unbuckle my seatbelt
“Are you going to be ok?” Dave asks placing a hand on top of my thigh
I take a deep sigh, honestly I didn’t know. I was having fun, it was turning out to be a good night, then Frankie called. I was angry, I was frustrated, I was upset. But I don’t want to drag Dave down with me. I turn my head to face him, giving him a quick kiss to his check. 
“Yeah, I’ll be good. Thank you again” I say opening the door 
“Call me when you get home” I nod and close the door. 
I walked into the bar, stopped by a burly man who I guessed was a bouncer. “Can I help you?” He asks 
“Yeah I’m looking for uhm Cliff? Clint maybe…the owner he has my friend” I couldn’t remember the name of the man now that I was here. Hurt, anger, disappointment so many emotions and I was going to have to keep them in check when I got to Frankie. Clearly being the ‘friend’ wasn’t working and I was going to need a different approach. 
“Are you Mrs. Miller?” The bouncer asks 
“Ms. but yes” 
“Outside, to the right. Let him know he’s now allowed back. Gary doesn’t want to press charges but your friend is trespassed from here” 
‘Press charges? He’s trespassed? Fuck what did he do?’ My thoughts are racing, did I really want to know. He had been in a mood since I told him about my date, and yet here I am recusing him yet again. 
I walk back outside and look to the right, not seeing right away. I walk down to the edge of the building and turn the corner, finding him sitting on a beat up wooden bench with a large man acting like a bodyguard. He was the size of a tree, his arms were massive and I’m fairly sure he could squish someone like a bug if he wanted to. 
Frankie in his usual tan colored Carhartt jacket, his favorite black baseball cap pulled down low. He turns my direction when he hears my heels on the pebbles. He has a long gash on his left cheek, dried blood under it. He continues to sit there, more anger floods my veins. 
“There she is, there’s my girl” 
I stop in front of him, my arms crossed over my body. This is where the relationship changes, I will no longer be sweet, it’s time to lay down the law and get his ass clean. 
“Get up” my voice is stern
He doesn’t move, he continues to sit there. A small smile pulling on his lips, acting as if he isn’t a complete fucking disaster. He raises his arms and makes grabby hands, beckoning me to come help him. I shake my head no. 
“Get the fuck up Morales” I cross my arms, he needs to know I’m upset and his little act isn’t going to help me. I swear I hear the tree of man chuckle at the situation playing out in front of him. 
“Help Me” he turns his head looking at me with this sad puppy eyes, this eyes he knows I can’t say no to
“No. You got into this, now get up” I am trying to not break, but he knows what to do to get me to break 
Groaning, he places his hands on the edge of the bench and pushes himself up. He sways where he is standing. He looks at his feet, his mind willing his feet to move. Putting his left food in front of the right and he stumbles. Before thinking I move to him. My heels make us the same height and easier for him to lean against me. Wrapping his arm over my shoulder I wrap mine around his waist. Adjust his hold on me he leans his head against mine, “I knew you’d catch me” he slurs 
“You’re on thin ice Francisco, don’t push it” I groan as he leans all his weight into me
“Mi Cielito” he says softly
“Where’d you park?” I ask, my hand readjusting around his hip as he holds me like a cutch and we stumble in the parking lot 
He shrugs, “don’t remember” his face is towards me, I scrunch my face as he reeks of alcohol 
After what feels like an hour of wandering around this parking lot, his truck finally comes into view, of course Frankie would be back in the back, in the middle of nowhere. Sighing a ‘thank god’, I hope he didn’t hear.  I stop by the passenger door, and I lean him against it, praying that he doesn’t fall.  Reaching into his coat pocket I pull out the keys and unlock the door. I grab him by the waist and turn his body into the truck. 
“You could at least by me dinner first” he chuckles adjusting his body in the car
“Shut up Francisco, you still have the first aid kit in here?” I ask looking under the front seat before moving to the back
Before Frankie can answer I pull out a little red box, his head leaning against the headrest. I watch as he struggles to keep his eyes open. With the first aid open, I rip open the wet-nap. I take his chin and gently turn his head towards me so I can see what I am doing better. The street lamp offers minimal light. I clean the dried blood on his cheek, and expect the gash. Tossing that at Frankie’s feet, I grab a towel from the kit and as carefully as I can dap the area dry. He flinches in pain. Finally I open the antibiotic cream, and rub a line of it over the cut hoping to keep it clean for the moment.
“It doesn’t look like you need stitches” I tell him, “what the fuck happened?”
“I got punched” he mumbles “asshole”
“Yeah, I can see you got punched, what did you do?” I ask again
“He shoved me, then I tried to punch him and he hit first” he rolls his eyes “are you mad?” 
Honestly, I didn’t know anymore. I was angry at him. I thought we were doing well, but that just proved to me this little sticker thing was a dumb idea from the start. I was sad, I was hurt, disappointed, but with all these feelings, the word mad didn’t come up anymore. I was worried about him. 
“I don’t know…” I turn his body forward, reaching behind him I grab the seat belt and lean over his body to hook it in. “I really don’t know anymore” I sigh and close the door 
The drive home was silent, he had his head against the window and I couldn’t tell if he was asleep, or just trying to ignore me. He tried to tell me how unsafe driving barefoot was, but driving with those heels and this truck was more dangerous than whatever gross shit was on his floor.  
“How much did you drink?” I ask
“A couple beers, half dozen shots of tequila…” he pauses, “also…did a few hits of coke” 
“Frankie…” I sigh
Before I can ask him, he begins to tell me he didn’t mean to. He wanted to forget, he wanted to numb the pain. He didn’t know what else to do, so he called a friend. They did a few lines, then went into the bar. I know I shouldn’t, but I feel guilty. I feel like his slip is my fault. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone on a date. Work was one thing, but me going on a date made me feel worse. I wasn’t there when he needed me.  
“Are you mad?” I ask again, but he doesn’t look at her, he can’t handle it. 
I wasn’t worried about her being mad.  No, mad I could handle that. However, the answer she gave me, that’s the answer that hurts the most. Disappointment, it was worse than being mad or angry. I could work with those. But, disappointment was the worst. I was now at rock bottom. I shake my head, and lean against the window. Closing my eyes and praying they wouldn’t re-open. 
I feel her hand on my shoulder, gently shaking me “hey sleepy head. Time to wake up, we’re home” 
I groan and lean further into the door trying to escape her touch. My eyes stay closed “sleepy time here” 
“You aren’t sleeping in your truck, let’s get inside. You think you can help me?” She asks
“Oomppf” I groans, when the door I’m leaning against opens, the seat belt doing its job and keeping me up right in the car
Alex reaches into the truck and unhooks the seatbelt, grabbing my hands and she helps me slide out of the truck. She draps one of my arms over her shoulder, and wraps one around my waist, letting me lean against her.  Our height difference isn’t much, but she is supporting most of my weight. 
“Step…” she says and I lift a foot. The two of us stumble up the steps and my head is hurting. I really wish she would have just left me in the truck. 
We stop at the door, my arm moves, readjusting my grip holding on to her. Standing at the front door holding on to me with one hand, while the other fumbles with his keys trying to find the house key. I know I shouldn’t laugh but watching her struggle makes me chuckle. 
“Oh you think this is funny do you?” She’s frustrated and I just made it worse
I knew laughing was bad, but I couldn't help it when she was still struggling with the keys. She turned her focus to me, eyes narrow as she glares. She was cute when she was flustered. I press my lips together. Trying to hold back another laugh. It didn’t work as my eyes locked on to her and I snorted and laughed more. Laugh lines forming at the corner of my eyes I knew I was breaking her down and it would be impossible for her to stay mad at me. 
“If I let you go, you're not gonna fall are you?” She asks, her voice something between concern and anger. I just shrug, I probably would fall but she doesn’t need to know the truth 
Annoyed with my answer she sighs. I moved closer to her, she was warm, despite her anger and frustration with me. She was safe. She felt like home. I lean against her still struggling with the door. Finally, after a ten minute fight with the door she gets it opened. We stumble into the dark house. Thankfully getting the door locked on the inside was a much easier battle. 
“Alright Franklin, let’s get you to bed” 
My hallway is definitely not big enough for two people to walk side by side especially when one of the people is drunk. I try to position myself in front of Frankie, both his arms over my shoulders as his chest rests against my back. 
We reach his room and I move him towards his bed. I turn him and help him sit down. His hat had fallen off someone along the journey into his room. I slide off his jacket, turning to hang it in the chair. In slow motion Frankie begins to fall back “no..no…no” I grab his arm just in time keeping him up right on the bed. If he fell backwards I knew trying to undress him would be impossible.  
“Ok arms up” I say, he follows my order and lifts his arms above his head. 
“So bossy” he mumbles as I take the shirt off and toss it towards his dirty laundry pile. 
My hands rest on his broad shoulders. The muscle definition is still very evident in his biceps. I pray he doesn’t notice my eyes wander down his bare chest, briefly holding at his tattoo. I’ve never really looked at it this close. 
His hands reach for the hem of my dress, slowly beginning to lift it higher on my thigh. “You’re turn” he says before I catch his wrists 
“You’re drunk” I say softly and he shrugs
“Didn’t stop some people” 
I’m sure it didn’t, Frankie never had a problem getting girls, but I don’t know thinking about him being with others makes me slightly jealous, I shake my head and let go of his wrists. 
I bend down in front of him, his hands resting on my shoulders as I untie his shoes. He takes the hint and works with me to get his shoes off.  I start to stand up, “what about my pants?” he almost falls forward giggling. Good to know he still thinks this is funny “I don’t like pants” 
I roll my eyes and lean forward reaching for his belt buckle. I undo it and the button to his jeans. He falls back lifting his hips just enough for me to slide them off tossing it with the shirt. “There, are you happy?” 
He shuffles under the sheets, before I can go he grabs my hand “stay?” He asks. I don’t even have to look at him to know the look he’s giving me. Batting his eyes, his bottom lip quivers, using his big brown eyes to his advantage 
“Frankie, I can’t…” I sigh 
“Please?” 
I squeeze her hand, he doesn’t want to be alone. “Just till I fall asleep?” I add 
“Fine, just tell you fall asleep” I watch as she slides off her leather jacket and sets it on the back of my chair. Turning the light off, she shuffled back to me
I slide back, giving her enough room to lay down. I’m on my side, has my arm out. She lays down using my one arm as a pillow and I drape the other over her. She pulls the cover up. My hand resting on her hip. I lean into her resting my forehead against her temple breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo. Hints of cherry and strawberry fill my senses. It smells like summer, it smells like home. 
Her hand rubs up and down my forearm in a soothing fashion. I feel so comfortable with her here. It’s where I want to keep her. 
“He’s not good enough for you” I say softly 
“What?” She twists her head to look at me
My eyes open to see hers staring at me, “Your date tonight” 
“You don’t even know him” she sighs 
“No one will be good enough for you Alex” I grip her tighter pulling her closer to me. I lean in closer to her. I want to kiss her, I want her to know how I feel. As much as I don’t think the guy she went out with today isn’t good enough, I know I’m not good enough either. 
She sighs again, turning her head to stare at the ceiling. Her finger tips brush over my skin. My thumb strokes her hip over her black dress. A black dress I wished was on the floor. 
I lift my head, leaning closer. I stick out my tongue and lick the side of her face. From check to temple. When her hands go still on my arm, but don’t move away I smile and lay my head back down. 
Twisting her head to look at me, I watch as she smiles back at me. My smile widens, I know my dimple appears and she shakes her head, “did you just lick me?” 
“I did…” I sigh and close my eyes again. Sleep just on the horizon. I hear her ask me why, “to say your mine. Like when you like something when your a kid you don’t want someone else to have” 
“Frankie” she sighs 
“You’re too good for him” and by him - I really meant myself. 
Tumblr media
ANN: A huge shout out to @musings-of-a-rose for helping me with this and giving me confidence to post this in first person. I am still terrified of it. @theewokingdead and @heythere-mel for listening to my random ass ideas at all hours. I love each and every one of you.
Looking for more of my fics check out my masterlist. And check out other writers at @littlemisspascal and their library for all Pedro Characters
22 notes · View notes
winniethewife · 3 months
Text
I will not let you go (Francisco 'Catfish' Morales x reader)
Tumblr media
Words: 546
A/n: Inspired entirely By @summonthesoups sharing the Above image. thanks to @romanarose for being a sounding board for this fic.
Whenever they went on walks together Frankie always had to have his hands on her, His arm tight around her waist, his fingers intertwined with hers, his arm slung over her shoulders, as long as he’s touching her he’s satisfied. After they adopt an adorable Mutt puppy that Frankie named Mullido from their local animal shelter their walks become more frequent and Frankie loves every second of it. The leash in one hand and his arm around her waist as Mullido investigates every interesting smelling thing on the path dragging them along. Frankie swears this has probably been one of the best choices he’s made, other than his lady and his daughter of course. 
One sunny day right after they adopted Mullido, Their Daughter spending the day with her grandparents, they had walked with their enthusiastic pup down to the beach to meet the guys, as usual his hand held on to hers tightly as they made their way across the sand.  Benny is the first to notice their approach and calls out running across the beach.
“Hey Guys! Woah! DOG!” He says excited with childlike wonder as he crouches down to let the puppy lick his face and snuffle at his clothes.
"Yeah! This is our dog, Mullido!" Frankie announces with a big smile on his face. She and the Guys are all gathered around the dog as Santiago Steps to the side with Frankie and laughs slightly
"Wait...did you really just name your dog...Fluffy?" Santi asks with a smirk as he looks at him quizzically
“Yep. We thought it would be funny.” Frankie pats his friend on the back and smiles at his girl, who was holding Mullido in her arms as the Miller brothers were enthusiastically fond of the small animal. 
As the sun crossed over the sky they were all tossing a Frisbee back and forth as Mullido chases it between them, like an adorable game of monkey in the middle. Out of breath She sits down to the side and watches as the others play. A smile on her face as she watches them. She grabs a cold drink out of the cooler and takes a drink as she watches. Eventually she was joined by a smiling Francisco and an exhausted puppy.
“You doin’ alright Mi Vida?” He asked as he flopped on the ground next to her.
“Yeah, just taking a break.” She smiles at him.
“You’ve got the right Idea. Mulli is a little pooped too.” Frankie puts his hand on her thigh as he looked at the ball of fluff curled up at their feet.
“Well it’s been a good day to be a dog.” She chuckles
“I’d say.” Frankie laughs, they watch the guys abandon the frizbee to all take up a spot in the circle of beach towels that they had laid out. They all start talking and joking. Will holding Mullido in his lap as they sat together. She smiles as Frankie puts a protective arm around her. This was everything she had ever hoped for. A Happy life with a happy family.
~
Bonus scene
About a month later Frankie get a call. Its Benny.
"Seriously Fish. Fluffy? The dogs name is Fluffy?” “Yes! Did you just figure this out?”
“…Yeah.” They both laugh.
~
Masterlist
13 notes · View notes
pedropascalito · 1 year
Note
Is Frankie Morales having a huge dick is canon?
Seriously. Did I miss this very important information when I watched Triple Frontier ?
Every fic about him is like :
Okay baby, let me get you ready for my gigantic fucking cock. Poor reader’s pussy needs to adjust for 48 hrs before any movements can be made.
Every fic: Will likes (is obsessed with) eatinf pussy and Frankie The LEGEND Morales could kill you with one single thrust.
So. Is it Canon?
Sure
Tumblr media
70 notes · View notes
ghostofaboy · 4 months
Text
Rock Bottom - Benny
Tumblr media
Summary: Frankie is spiraling after Tom’s death. Drugs lead to some unhealthy friendships, and too ashamed to reach out to his former teammates for help, Frankie is drawn into a world he’s afraid he can’t get out of.
After settling into his new life Frankie gets a chance to catch up with Benny.
Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morale/Original Male Characters Rating: Explicit. Serious over 18s only Word count: 1927 Chapter: 21/?
Warnings: Talk of sex and prostitution, mentions of PTSD, mentions of drug use
Note: This is a fic with gay and bi characters. Please make sure you read the tags/warnings. Header by @gasolinerainbowpuddles
Part 20 / Part 1 / Masterpost
Tumblr media
After a few weeks, Frankie had started to settle into his strange new routine. While working two jobs was tiring, it was certainly filling up his savings account, which he knew he’d need later down the road if he wanted to get joint custody of Sofia. And finally, he’d spoken to Will about the Vets Rehab program and was now officially on the waiting list. At the assessment appointment, he’d been told the waiting time was two months. Will, who had come with him, had cursed under his breath at Frankie’s side at that, but honestly, Frankie was grateful to have been accepted. Two months wasn’t too long, and considering the waiting lists for other programs, Frankie knew it could have been a hell of a lot longer.
After the initial flurry of sex during the first weekend, Tilly had only used his services once more since. He’d wanted a quick blow job before he left for a business meeting the following Saturday, and after covering Frankie’s face in come, that had been that. After that day, Frankie had spent the rest of the weekend and the one after taking stock of the garage and working on the cars. The only downside of the past few weeks was that things with Tyler had slowed somewhat after he had started his job with Tilly, but thankfully, they had not completely stalled. 
This week had been going by slowly. The repair shop was practically empty, with only a few regular clients to keep them all busy. The unfortunate reality was that there wasn’t enough work for them all. So that morning, Malcolm had called a team meeting to ask for volunteers to go home for the rest of the week. Frankie had immediately put his hand up. 
The way he figured it, he was going to be leaving the shop at the end of next week anyway and had no right to take money out of the pockets of any of the other guys. Plus, with his job at Tilly’s, he had more money than he’d had in years. As he gathered his things, he could hear the others still grumbling as Malcolm asked for one more volunteer before heading back to his truck.
It was only Wednesday, and Tilly wouldn’t be expecting him again until Saturday, which left Frankie with more free time than he’d had in almost a year. Sitting in his truck, he knew exactly who he wanted to see and, pulling out his phone, immediately started to text Tyler. After some thought, he composed what he thought sounded like a good enough message. To the point, sincere, and hopefully not too needy.
[Hey, I know things have been a little weird with us since I took the job with Tilly. I’m off for the rest of the week and was hoping to see you. Frankie x]
Pressing send, Frankie dropped the phone down onto the passenger seat next to him. Now what? Tyler might not even reply, might not want to see him, might not… Gripping the steering wheel, Frankie took a long, deep breath in. The last thing he needed to do right now was spiral. 
His head was getting clearer, but he still wasn’t sleeping too well. His body was exhausted, and he often felt like he could sleep for days. But no matter how tired he was, Frankie found himself sleeping in bursts, interrupted by bouts of nausea and the increasingly frequent nightmare. Vivid, awful dreams of Tom covered in blood. In the dreams, sometimes Tom was alive, following them through the mountains with his head half gone. He was angry at them, screaming at Pope or Frankie about their failures. Other times, Tom was just the first to die, and Frankie would watch as each of his friends was taken from him by unseen enemies. 
But the worst dreams were about something terrible happening to Sofia because of him. Frankie’s mind had managed to conjure up horrific scenario after horrific scenario, covering every possible way his tiny little girl could come to harm.
After a few minutes of focusing on his breathing, Frankie felt a little better. His phone sat silently on the seat next to him, with no reply yet from Tyler. Resisting the urge to pick it up, Frankie started his truck and set off. He didn’t really want to sit at home and stew, the thought of being alone right now didn’t seem like a good idea. Then again, just heading over to Tyler’s trailer also might not be well received. And as much as Frankie wanted to see him, he also knew he needed to give Tyler space.
After that initial weekend at Tilly’s, Tyler had come around to his place just as they had arranged, but the atmosphere was tense. Tyler had admitted his jealousy and discomfort, while acknowledging that he felt like a hypocrite because of it. In the end, they’d watched a movie before Tyler left for the night. Since then, they’d seen each other a handful of times. Each time was getting easier, edging closer to the normalcy they’d once had.
Stopping at a red light, Frankie ran over the options in his mind. Home would drive him stir-crazy and let him dwell on bad shit. Tyler’s wasn’t an option just yet. Then it hit him. Benny. He knew the gym Benny was training at and that he’d be there every day. With a destination in mind, Frankie felt his shoulders relax a little as he set off toward the gym.
Tumblr media
Benny was based in a new gym converted from an old factory. From the outside, it didn’t look like much, a little shabby even. But as Frankie made his way through the front door, he was met with a clean and modern gym set-up. The young guy at the front desk looked up when Frankie approached.
“Hi.” He smiled, setting down his notepad. “You lookin’ to join?”
“I’m just looking for Ben Miller.” Frankie shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m an old friend and-”
“Wait.” The young guy’s smile grew. “Are you Catfish?”
“Yeah?” Frankie cocked his head, a little confused. 
“Oh man!” The guy stood up and made his way around the desk. “Ben talks about you all the time! It’s so cool to meet you! Come on, I’ll take you through.”
Frankie couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he was led through to the main gym and to the back of the large workout area. Men glanced up as he passed, some frowning at his jeans and obvious lack of gym clothes. Frankie blushed as a fit, younger man shimmering with sweat winked at him. Finally, at the very back, Frankie could see a group of men standing and chatting next to a couple of punchbags. And there, in the middle, throwing his head back as he laughed, was Benny.
Frankie’s heart skipped a beat. Even after all this time, even knowing that Benny would never be interested in him, Frankie couldn’t help admiring his friend. Benny was laughing and talking with his friends or trainers, topless in just a set of baggy shorts. Sweat clung to his toned body, making him glisten in the artificial light. Benny turned as head as Frankie approached and his smile grew.
“Fish!” 
In a flash, Benny’s sweaty arms were wrapped around Frankie, his face buried in Frankie’s neck, and suddenly everything seemed right in the world. For a few moments, Frankie let Benny just hold him, before Benny eventually stepped away. 
“What are you doing here, man!” Benny slapped his shoulder playfully. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“Work’s slow, so I’ve got the day off.” Frankie smiled. “Thought I’d come and check up on you.”
“I’m almost done here.” Benny gestured to his trainer behind him. “You ok to wait, then we can go get some lunch?”
“Perfect.”
Tumblr media
A couple of hours later, Frankie’s cheeks ached from smiling. It felt so good to spend time with Benny. It felt like old times. Benny told the same crappy jokes, and Frankie laughed at Benny’s terrible Spanish. It was like South America had never happened. 
They ate lunch before heading back to Benny’s apartment and sat talking about Benny’s fighting. As the hours passed, Frankie could feel the tension leaving him. He needed this. He needed his old squad. He’d spent far too long in this new world created of his own mistakes, and this afternoon felt like a return to normalcy. 
“So…” Benny licked his lips before taking a sip of his tea. “Work is slow?”
“Yeah.” Frankie nodded, blowing on his own drink to cool it. “Only a few regular jobs, not enough for all of us, so Malc asked for volunteers to take the week off.”
“And you volunteered?”
“Yeah.” Frankie cocked his head at Benny. “Why?”
“And you can afford to do that?” Benny was looking at him strangely over his steaming drink. 
“Yeah, I can afford it.” Frankie frowned. This conversation had taken a strange turn and he wasn’t sure he liked the way Benny was looking at him. “What’s this about Ben?”
“Have you been working with that new friend? What was his name? Tyler? The streamer?” Benny took another sip. He was keeping his tone light, but Frankie knew this was an interrogation. Benny was digging.
“No.” Frankie answered honestly. He hadn’t decided yet if he was going to do any video with Tyler. Pausing for a moment he weighed his options, before answered making sure to keep his tone equally as light. “I took a private mechanic job. I’m working it on the weekends until I finish my notice at Malc’s place. Ben…” Frankie set his drink down, leaning forward in his seat. “Ben, what is this about? Why does this feel like an interrogation?” 
“I’m just worried that’s all.” Benny let out a long sigh. “You’ve only just got clean again and…”
“And?”
“And, a buddy of mine said he saw you a few weeks back.” Benny looked uncomfortable, his cheeks growing redder as he searched for the right words. “You were, um, it was at Cutler’s and… he said he saw…”
As Benny trailed off and Frankie could feel his face beginning to burn with shame. Cutler’s was a dive bar Gavin had taken him to a few times. He’d blow guys in the dimly lit parking lot and sometime get fucked around the back of the place. The last time was around five weeks ago and Frankie had sucked three cocks in the parking lot while Gavin chatted and sold coke.
“And your friend saw me blowing some guys?” Frankie let his head drop, peeking up at Benny from under the brim of his cap. “Is that what you were gonna say?”
“Yeah.” Benny slumped down in his chair, looking at Frankie with those goddam big sad eyes. “He said, fuck, he said that you had a pimp.”
“Fuck.” Frankie could feel his hands shaking as he reached up to take his cap off. Throwing the Standard Oil cap down onto his knee, Frankie heard himself speaking before his brain had a chance to catch up. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. But… that’s over now. I’m clean now, I swear. It’s… all that… I… I don’t have a pimp now.”
“Fuck Fish.” Benny looked heartbroken, and Frankie had to force himself not to bolt out the door. “Fuck. How did you… how did that start?”
“You really wanna know?” Frankie could feel the tears starting to roll down his cheeks. 
“Tell me everything.”
16 notes · View notes
thatredheadwriter · 2 years
Text
Pretty
frankie morales x reader
Alright, so you know ya girl has a bit of an oral fixation. And a thing for marking (seriously, I’ve already done a whole fic about it). So it shouldn’t shock you that seeing all these gifs of Pedro from TUWOMT in his little striped speedo has✨SPARKED✨ something in me. Something absolutely fucking feral. I love thighs. Idc who they belong to, they’re fluffy pillows of sexiness and they deserve to be shown a good time. Also, we need to call boys pretty. They are and they deserve to hear it more. I totally intended for this to be pwp, but then I got a little angsty with it, and then it got real fluffy, and idk man. I think it turned out ok, but this is not the fic I planned on writing when I started, and that’s ok. Also, I suck at endings, so I guess I just stopped writing words instead of properly closing it. Whatever. Please enjoy.
Tumblr media
This is an NSFW oneshot for female reader with Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales of Triple Frontier. This work contains smut and mature language and should not be read by those under 18. As a writer, I will attempt to make accurate warnings for each of my fics, however, I cannot guarantee that I will identify each and every sensitive topic. My works regularly contain swearing, allusions to/mentions of sex, and canon-level violence.
Warnings Include (but are not limited to):
Swearing
My extreme love of thighs
nibbling/marking kink
Kinda body worship
Elements of handjob
Mention of oral (male receiving)
Frankie doesn’t think he’s beautiful and handsome
Fairly mild (IMO) body-image-related angst (just Frankie’s this time around)
Mentions that maybe reader had some past body image issues (not explicit)
Pet names
Sickeningly sweet fluff
Making Frankie say that he’s pretty (not in a feminizing way, pretty doesn’t always mean feminine)
Please read at your own discretion and consume your fanfiction responsibly.
Tumblr media
It was a lazy day. You lay with your foot at the head of the bed, arms crossed underneath you, reading your newest pick from the local library.
Frankie sat beside you, propped up against the headboard reading the morning paper. You knew if you teased him about his reading glasses and old-man habits he’d take them off and go back to squinting, so you kept your giggles to yourself.
When he didn’t need it to hold the paper, one of his warm palms rested splayed on the back of your thigh, rubbing up and down in what was meant to be a soft gesture, but was pulling your mind in another direction entirely.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t fucked your brains out the night before, but you couldn’t help but want more. He was too pretty, too handsome, although every time you tried to tell him so, he’d get all flustered and change the subject.
As your eyes trailed down his form, bathed in the morning light, you couldn’t help but appreciate him. His broad shoulders and soft tummy covered in the fabric of his favorite white t-shirt, down to his thighs, mostly exposed from the hem of his plaid boxers ridden up into the seam of his hips.
God his thighs were just perfect. You loved digging your fingers into them as he fucked your face, and so did he, even if he liked to pretend he was indifferent. They were your favorite pillow when you watched movies on the couch, and you loved watching and feeling the muscles flex underneath you as he came.
So when you finished your chapter, you sat up and pulled your legs up under you, turning to face your boyfriend with a pout. Sitting back on your heels, you chewed on your lip as you studied him until he noticed your stare and set his paper aside.
“What’s up, pup?” he asked, sitting up a little more so he could place a hand on your knee. Frankie loved to touch you, and you loved that about him. He always made you feel safe and adored.
“I wanna try something,” you said hesitantly, narrowing your eyes at him.
He wiggled his brows suggestively, “If I remember correctly, the last time you said that, we ended up staying in bed for an entire weekend.”
When you didn’t react to his joke about the time the two of you had first tried cockwarming, he shifted again.
“Hey, what is it? You can tell me anything,” his brow was furrowed adorably, and you huffed a laugh.
“I…I just don’t know how to say it. Can I just show you?” you asked, fiddling with the hem of your sleep shirt and looking up at him.
“Of course. I trust you, princesa.”
You smiled and tossed your book haphazardly up towards your nightstand before using his ankles to spread his legs, earning you a look of confusion as you moved between them. It didn’t go away as you settled on your belly between his legs, head right between his thighs.
“I don’t think this is new,” Frankie chuckled above you as you reached your hands out to begin caressing the insides of his legs.
“Oh, I’m not sucking you. Not yet anyways,” you clarified, still massaging his thighs. “Frankie, I just love you so much. You’re so pretty.”
“Not that again,” he dropped his head back to the headboard like he was annoyed, but you knew it was really to hide the blush creeping up his face. “I’ve told you-”
“No,” you cut him off. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to you talk bad about yourself. You’re so beautiful Frankie. Especially your thighs. God, I love them.”
You dipped your head to trail your nose along his skin there, the light hair tickling you as you searched for the perfect spot to start. The first kiss was light, testing his reaction. But as he relaxed under you, you grew bolder. Soon you were leaving litters of sloppy kisses all over his thighs.
When you first nibbled a little, you were afraid you’d hurt him with the way he’d sucked in a breath. But when you looked up at him, his eyes were blown with lust and his fingers were tangled in the sheets.
“Love you s’much, Frankie,” you murmured into his skin, now mottled with the evidence of your mouth on him. His cock strained in his boxers, and his hips bucked involuntarily when your nose grazed it.
“Fuck,” he groaned, “I love you too, princess.”
You grinned up at him, resting your cheek against his thigh. Your fingers traced up the sensitive flesh and onto his boxers, slipping up under his t-shirt and into the fabric of his waistband. 
“Will you say it for me?” you asked, looking up at him with big doe eyes as your hand finally made contact with his achingly hard dick.
“Say-say wha- oh, fuck,” he cut himself off as your thumb swirled precum around his tip, toying with his frenulum.
“I want you to say that you’re pretty. Cause to me you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.”
“Seriously?” he all but pouted, frowning down at you.
“Frankie, you spent months when we first started dating telling me how beautiful and gorgeous I am, and I eventually started to believe it. I just want you to love yourself,” you said honestly, hand stilling inside his boxers as you waited for his reaction. “You’re always making little digs about being out of shape or gaining a little weight since your discharge, and I literally couldn’t care less. Francisco, you’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met, and I just want you to see that. I love you.”
You could swear there was a tear in his eye when you finished, and he opened his arms wide, indicating he wanted to hold you.
“God, princesa, how did I get so lucky?” he sniffled a bit as you crawled up to his level, letting him wrap his arms around you and hold you, with you holding him back.
“I think I’m the lucky one, but that’s just me,” you grinned into his shirt. “I just don’t want you to ever feel less than, Frankie. And you always make me feel so loved, I just want to share it back, I guess.”
“Ok,” he sighed, pulling back to look at you. He took a deep, shuddery breath before screwing his eyes shut tight. “I’m pretty,” he grimaced as the words came out, cracking an eye afterward to see your barely contained mix of amusement and adoration.
You leaned in and pecked a kiss on the end of his nose.
“Yes, yes you are. And you’re handsome,” another kiss, this one to his left temple. “And you’re beautiful,” a kiss to his right temple. “And you’re smart,” you kissed the center of his forehead. “And kind,” you kissed a cheek. ��And an amazing father,” the other cheek. “And the sweetest partner,” you kissed one of the bare patches in his beard. “And a simply divine lover,” you kissed the other patch, although you missed a little bit because he was giggling underneath you. “And I am so lucky to call you mine.”
The last kiss you placed to his lips, but before you could pull away, he was pulling you in with his need.
You rolled your hips down on him, his hard cock still pressing into you through his boxers.
“Can you say it again for me?” you asked with your best pouty face, “You can even say handsome instead if you don’t like pretty.”
Frankie leaned in to kiss down your jaw, bucking your hips up against yours. “I think ‘pretty’ is growing on me.”
“Yeah?” you asked, tugging him away by his hair.
“Yeah. Cause you’re the prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen and I’d kill to be anything like you, pup.”
222 notes · View notes
something-tofightfor · 8 months
Text
2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #2: Frankie Morales - Kiss in the Hammock
Number two for this event goes to @the-blind-assassin-12 for our favorite helicopter pilot. This follows along with the Life is Good storyline and takes place after Red, White and True.
Word count: 1,244
Rating: M? IDK. This one is tame but there's some suggestion.
Tumblr media
“Damn.” 
You woke to the sound of his voice, sucking in a breath as your entire body jerked. The hammock beneath you swung from side to side, its motion much more fluid than it had been previously. Oh, shit.
Rocking back and forth while you tried to catch yourself using both hands, you heard the sound of quiet laughter - and then you stilled, head turning to the side. “Frankie? I’m sorry, I fell asleep.” 
“You did.” Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you stared up at him. He had the hat on his head tipped backwards, the ends of his hair curling wildly around his ears like they always did after he’d run his hands through it. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 
“It’s fine.” Stretching, you closed your eyes and yawned, humming as you curled your toes inward. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon, it -” Frankie laughed again, interrupting your explanation.
“I’m back at the regular time.” What? How long was I sleeping? “We’ve got to think about getting ready to head out soon. Dinner at Ironhead’s is in an hour and a half.” 
You attempted to sit up, beginning to swing your legs toward where he stood. But when Frankie murmured your name, shaking his head slowly, you stopped. “What? You just said I need to get out of here and go inside to change.”
“Wait a minute.” He let go of the edge of the hammock, bending down to untie his shoes. “We’ve got a couple, at least.” 
You figured out what he was doing moments later when Frankie stood again, pulling his hat off and letting it fall to the ground next to his shoes and your phone, which was face down in the neatly trimmed grass. “Franke, how much weight can these things …” Trailing off when he sat at the edge and then swung his feet up, you closed your eyes as you scooted over, making space. “...hold?” 
“Plenty. I bought the heavy duty frame and the most durable material so that it wouldn’t blow away if I couldn’t get to it in time during a storm. We’re fine.” He pressed himself against your side and then turned his head to look at you. “Hi.” 
The way he stared at you still took you by surprise sometimes. 
After the initial week together in Virginia and the first couple visits between you in your hometowns, you’d known things were real. When he’d admitted that he loved you on the boat only a few months prior, everything had slammed firmly into place, your feelings for him just as overwhelming and consuming as you’d ever hoped falling in love with someone would be. 
But no matter how much you believed the words he said or how strongly you felt the same in return, it would never compare to the intensity in his eyes when they met yours. Frankie always looked at you with interest, but when he was really emotional, there was a quiet desperation there, too - the fear of losing you or ruining things hidden just behind the desire. 
“Hey, ‘Fish.” You only used the nickname sparingly, preferring to call him by his full name if you didn’t use Frankie, but when he grinned at the sound, the corners of his eyes crinkling and the dimple in his bearded cheek appearing, you knew it had been the right call that day. “How were your flights?”
“Good. Only had three today. Two short tours and a longer one. Lots of people visiting for Thanksgiving so the longer tour was parents with a kid. He loved it up there. Reminded me of Elijah.” Of course it does. The weight of the two of you made the hammock rock gently, the side to side motion slower than it had been at your sudden, surprised movement. It felt good to lay there with him, and when Frankie finally closed his eyes and took a long breath, settling one palm against his stomach, you spoke again. 
“I like this. With you.” He hummed out an agreement, shifting even closer and pressing a kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering there. It was the first time you’d been in the hammock together, though you’d both used it separately multiple times in the days you’d spent in Florida. Maybe I should get one of these for home. “I’m glad you had a good day.” 
“It’s even better now.” He spoke while moving again, the man rolling onto one hip and elbow and then hooking a leg over both of yours, getting as close as possible. “I like coming home to you.” You were certain that he heard the sharp intake of breath and saw the widening of your eyes, but Frankie gave you no time to reply, his arm sliding under your neck and shoulders as he lowered his head. “A hell of a lot.” 
You liked him coming home to you, too, but didn’t get a chance to say so before he kissed you, the man’s lips already parted by the time they met yours. Raising the arm that wasn’t trapped beneath his body, you ran your fingers through Frankie’s hair, lifting your hips a few inches to reposition yourself.
That changed the way his body rested against you, but it also changed the angle of the kiss just enough for you to suck his lower lip between both of yours, increasing the pressure enough to elicit a quiet groan from him. 
“Stop that.” He mumbled the words, but you could feel the smile on his lips while he spoke. “We don’t have time.” Frankie didn’t pull away though, the man kissing you again, his lips pressed against your mouth with purpose. “Unless…” 
He backed away, blinking down at you. “Unless what?” You watched as he arched a brow, the hand not on your shoulder sliding up your side and pushing the thin hoodie you wore with it. 
“Unless you can be quick.” His eyes darkened, Frankie glancing down and then back up. “And I mean really quick, because -” 
You pushed him away eagerly, hand firmly on his shoulder, but thanks to your position, you pushed a little too hard, Frankie’s weight - and the momentum from your shove - carrying him backwards and out of the hammock, the man tumbling to the grass with his mouth open in surprise. “Oh, shit, I’m -” You rolled, too, peeking down at him over the edge of the fabric as he blinked up at you, mouth hanging open in shock. “Are you alright?” 
But you were trying not to laugh, because the sight of Frankie sprawled out on the grass beneath you was downright amusing. “I’m fine. My pride’s taken a hell of a hit, but…” He groaned, swiping a hand over his face. “I’ll live. Probably.” I’m sure you will. 
Carefully, you moved so that you could stand from the hammock, one foot planted on each side of his hips. “We should go inside and make sure.” Bending down and resting your hands on your knees, you locked eyes with him. “I can be very quick, Francisco. Can you?” His eyes darkened again before he used both elbows to push himself upright, lips crashing into yours a second time. Perfect. This is perfect. 
“Fuck being quick.” It was little more than a whisper, but you heard him nonetheless, Frankie trailing off before he tugged on your lip with his teeth, his nose wrinkling. “Ironhead can wait for us.” 
— 
117 notes · View notes