#Frankie Catfish Morales drabble

[kikis-writing-world]

Whole Enchilada

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader

Words: ~2k

This is a silly, self-indulgent drabble. I got one of those delivery meal kits and it came with enchiladas. I fucked them up. They were edible, but they weren’t good. Well, in the few days since The Incident, this formed in my mind. I was just excited to be writing anything again. Hope you enjoy it.

Also, while I don’t think I say so much in words, I usually write Frankie with Chilean heritage for obvious reasons. I know enchiladas aren’t Chilean, but I wanted to pay tribute to the dish that started it. That’s also why I start with Santiago bringing them up. I just don’t want anyone coming at me about mixing up cultures :)

Not proofread or betaed. I don’t believe there are any warnings but read on at your own risk.

Frankie felt reinvigorated as he pulled into the driveway, the fatigue of a long day at work making way for the excitement and relief of making it home. He couldn’t stop the soft smile from appearing as he thought about it. He’d spent years of his life chasing a home, never quite finding somewhere that felt right enough to set roots. His teen years were spent at friends’ houses and roaming the city, never quite feeling at home after his mother passed away. Enlisting after graduation had him traveling the world, fighting for Uncle Sam with nothing to show for it except a meager pension, a collection of scars, and a broken mind. He slid easily into drug use after he left the army, using to quiet the echoes of war that hid in the shadows of his mind. With the white powder in his veins, the need for a home didn’t feel so oppressive.

It wasn’t an easy hole to dig himself out of and he never would have gotten there without help. His brothers in arms kicking his ass back into shape, the VA and their therapy for veterans struggling to return to civilian life, and more than one stint in a rehab facility. The memory of the withdrawal was enough to make him shiver in real life. The sensation helped him shake the memory of his time in that sterile environment - the shakes, the pain, the all consuming need to use - and brought him back to the present. To his home. To you.

It took him almost 40 years to find what he was looking for and when he did, it hit him like a slap in the face. He had never found home because home wasn’t somewhere. It was someone. Meeting you had been like stepping out of a dark cave and seeing the beach for the first time. The musty, stale air replaced with refreshing ocean air, the bright sun warming his chilled, dull skin. He was a moth drawn to the bright light you introduced to his life and as long as he stayed in that light, home could be anywhere.

He pushed open the creaky door to his old, brown truck, giving himself the same mental reminder he always did to oil it one of these days. The thought was fleeting and likely to be forgotten as it had been millions of times before. As the door slammed shut behind him, his focus turned back to you, to home, just on the other side of the recently painted blue door.

The scent of chili powder hung heavy in the air, almost enough to make him cough as he crossed the threshold. It tickled at his nose and pricked at his eyes, mixing with the scent of other spices and something that smelled a little too much like something burning. Worried, He called your name through the house.

“It’s fine, it’s okay, I just-” your voice rang through the house, panicking until you cut yourself off with a loud, frustrated groan. The tap in the kitchen turned on. Frankie kicked his boots off carelessly, leaving them lopsided on the floor in favor of hurrying to your side.

The kitchen looked like a disaster in progress. A baking pan sat on top of the stove, smoke billowing up from the charred remains of… Frankie couldn’t even tell what it was supposed to be. The hood above the stove was running full speed, pulling as much of the smoke out of the house as possible. A pot was sitting in the sink, water running into it and overflowing down the drain. A pan of roasted veggies sat, seemingly harmless amid the chaos. Evidence of the prep work was strewn about the counters: cutting board, knives, various spice jars.

You were a fair cook. You had a few favorite recipes you knew how to nail every time and some bigger recipes you made for potlucks or parties. Frankie had never seen you struggle to cook, which made the scene all the more shocking.

Finally, his eyes fell to you. You were sitting on the floor in front of the sink, leaning back into the cupboards behind you with your knees pulled up. Dried tear tracks cut through the flour dusted across one cheek as you picked at a loose thread on your jeans. Frankie saw the set of your jaw and the wobble of your bottom lip as you fought to keep it together.

First, Frankie reached over you to turn off the faucet. He slowly kneeled, groaning quietly as his knees popped and cracked, until he was on the floor with you.

“Mariposa, qué pasó?” He asked, resting his large, warm hands on your knees. “Are you okay?”

You nodded but avoided eye contact with him as you kept picking at the thread. He stared for a moment, wishing you’d meet his eyes. He watched as tears gathered anew along your lash line before cupping your chin softly in his hand. He lifted your face to his, leaving you with no choice but to make eye contact with him.

“What happened?” He asked again, patient as his thumb brushed away the first tear to break the dam.

“I- I was trying…” You mumbled, your voice hitching as you fought against your emotions. You took a breath and swallowed around the lump in your throat. “It’s stupid,” you shook your head as you rolled your eyes. The motion made more tears slip down your cheeks.

“It’s not stupid if you’re upset. Dime.” He prompted, brushing away more tears as they came.

You mumbled something quietly, stubborn and embarrassed. It was too low for Frankie to hear, so he quirked an eyebrow and leaned in closer, hoping you’d say it again.

You groaned, throwing your head back to thump against the cabinets. The sound echoed through the mostly-empty cabinet under the sink, making Frankie wince.

“This is all Santiago’s fault!” You cried out in frustration.

Frankie felt a wave of ice surge through him. Santiago was one of his oldest friends, but he was also one of the most reckless. Memories of Colombia flashed through his mind before he could stop them. “What did Pope do?” He asked, losing the fight to keep his voice level. His tone dropped, a dangerous, low timbre of warning.

“No, no, it’s not…” You rushed to put Frankie’s mind at ease. “It’s something he said… It’s so stupid, it shouldn’t be.”

As you rambled, Frankie stood with a long groan. Once he was at full height, he offered his hand to you. You bit your lip for a moment before accepting his help off the floor. He pulled you up easily, guiding you into his waiting arms. With your body tucked against his, he could feel the tension running through you. You gripped his flannel shirt, anchoring yourself as he ran his hand up and down your back in a comforting motion.

“What did Santiago say that made you burn…” Frankie trailed off, eyeing the pan on the oven. It had stopped smoking, so that was a good sign. He decided to play it safe, not trying to identify the mess. “Made you burn dinner?”

You didn’t answer right away, but Frankie gave you time. He nuzzled your hair as he waited for you to get your words together, smelling the scent of your shampoo under all the burnt spices in the air.

“Don’t laugh.” You finally muttered into his chest.

“Never.” He promised.

“Last week, at Benny’s place, for the barbeque…” You trailed off.

He nodded once, humming affirmatively that he remembered that night. He racked his brain, trying to remember what Santiago said that night. Nothing stuck out to him.

“He said... Hesaidthathednevermarrysomeonewhocouldntmakegoodenchiladas.” You spat out too quickly for Frankie to understand.

“Say that again?” He asked.

You pulled out of the hug, pacing as you ranted. “He said he’d never marry someone who couldn’t make good enchiladas and I realized that I don’t know how to cook enchiladas. Even worse, I don’t know how to cook empanadas or papa rellena or cazuela or anything you grew up eating and you’ll never marry me if I don’t learn how to cook something for you. You’re going to leave me for some beautiful latina who makes sopaipilla every Sunday and-”

Frankie had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing, but he promised. He caught your arm as you crossed the kitchen, stopping your pacing. He held you at arms length, rubbing your arms.

“Woah, tranquila, deep breaths.” He instructed, releasing one arm to brush your hair away from your face. He took a deep breath, trying to get you to follow. You blinked up at him as you inhaled, trying to match his pace.

“Please don’t leave me for-”

Frankie silenced you with a kiss, hoping that he was silencing Santiago’s voice in your mind along with any other doubts you held. You froze against him before returning the kiss, letting him lead as he caressed your lips with his own. He wrapped his arms around you, tangling one hand in your hair while the other rested on your back, keeping you close to him. You wrapped your arms around his back in return, fisting the soft shirt across his shoulder blades.

When he pulled away, he stared down at your still closed eyes. You were breathing deeply and slower than you had been (even if it wasn’t as slowly as he’d like.) You were clearly no longer panicking.

Your dazed eyes blinked open, meeting his. You stared up at him, lips parted and kiss swollen as you caught your breath.

“I’m not leaving you. At least not over empanadas.” He grinned.

Your eyes widened, your dazed look turning into shock followed quickly by annoyance. “You said you wouldn’t laugh.” You pouted.

“And I’m not,” he pointed out, although he couldn’t stop himself from smiling over how silly you were being. “First of all, don’t listen to Santiago. He would have settled down with Alicia if she’d let him, and she couldn’t make enchiladas. She couldn’t boil water without setting something on fire.”

You couldn’t help but snort at the reminder of Alicia, a woman Santiago dated a few years back. She was fine but all wrong for him. He was blinded by love. Well, love and her body.

“Secondly, I’m not going anywhere unless you’re coming with me.” He promised. “I love your cooking, and if you want to learn more dishes, then we can learn together. No more crying over burnt empanadas, okay?”

“Okay,” you chuckled, your skin heating bashfully as Frankie leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“How about I order us some burgers and I help you clean this up?” He suggested, looking over the mess of the kitchen again.

“I would kill for a burger.” You groaned, snuggling up to Frankie as you tucked your head against his shoulder.

Frankie glanced over at the brick of charcoal on the stove - now identified as enchiladas - and fought back a laugh. “Oh don’t worry, they’re dead.”

A gasp from you was his only warning before you swatted him in the chest. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing at your affronted look. You laughed with him, even as you grumbled about him under your breath as you turned to deal with the pot in the sink.

Frankie pressed a kiss to your temple, muttering “love you too,” on his way to deal with the pan on the stove.

General Taglist @generalfoolish @harriedandharassed

P*dro P*scal Taglist @ilikechocolatemilkh @spideysimpossiblegirl @eli-the-thinker @seasonschange-butpeopledont @slightlyobsessedwithissues​

Frankie Morales Taglist @sugarpunch-princess​ @slightlyobsessedwithissues​ @mrsxreeves​

#Frankie Morales drabble #Frankie Catfish Morales drabble #Frankie Morales x Reader #Frankie Morales imagine #Frankie Catfish Morales #WookieTales #Triple Frontier Imagine

[endlessthxxghts]

Full

Frankie Morales x afab!Reader

Summary: You want Frankie to knock you up, and fuck, does he wants that, too. W/C: 1k. (I actually stuck to the word count this time… but at what insanely hot cost?😵‍💫) 18+ MDNI: Implied established relationship. Literally 0% plot and 100% PORN. Unprotected P in V sex. MAJOR BREEDING KINK. Cumming inside. Slight daddy kink (in the sense that you wanna make Frankie a daddy🫶🏼). One (1) pussy slap. Multiple orgasms. Overstimulation kink. Finger fucking. Pics for aesthetic purposes only.

A/N: This lil drabble is a part of my 1k follower celebration in response to this yummy request made by @javierpena-inatacvest😵‍💫 Please take a deep breath and get comfortable while you read this… ANYWAY, happy Valentine’s Day everyone!!! What better way to celebrate than with Frankie and his breeding kink?😋 Hope you guys enjoy, and please do let me know what you guys think!!!! I love love love your feedback (or- in other words) !!!🤭

MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG || 1K CELEBRATION

“Fuck, Frankie…”

“Taking it so good, querida, fuck-”

“Please- shit- please, Frankie, don’t stop.”

“I’m not, baby,” he moans, eyes threatening to succumb to the back of his skull, “Not gonna fucking stop until you’re full of me, baby, yo prometo.” I promise. 

“Sh-shit, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, ohmygod-” your eyes clamp shut, your jaw hangs open, ass up in the air as your tears and drool soak the pillow beneath your face. 

Frankie speeds up, pummeling into you hard and fast, his large hands coasting the surface of your ass and your back, groaning at the way you twitch and writhe underneath him. His hands settle at your waist, gripping you tightly, accentuating the arch of you. He’s so fucking deep at this angle, you can feel him hitting your cervix with each thrust forward. It’s an addicting sensation right now—and it will be even later, when the dull ache overtakes you. “Give it to me,” he breathes, “cum all over my cock, querida, needa feel you.”

His hand snakes around to your front, the pad of his fingers meeting your clit, rubbing it in the perfect motion that sends you reeling. Fireworks—no, dynamite, explodes behind the dark of your eyelids, your head adopting that fuzzy feeling, your body following suit not long after. “So fucking good, you feel so fucking good, Frankie, oh my God- oh fuck-” you ramble partially incoherently. 

Your thighs are jello, unable to keep yourself up as Frankie continues fucking into you; his arm wraps around your middle, his other pawing at your breast. He pulls you up to be flush against his chest as he begs your alter for his own release. “I’m c- mierda- I’m close,” he whimpers right at your ear. 

Mustering up as much strength as you can, you twist your head to face him, your hand reaching up and rooting yourself at the back of his messy curls. You yank his head towards you, crashing his mouth against yours. It’s sloppy and wet, swallowing each other’s tongues whole as the thickness of your shared breaths melt into one. Breaking away with a bite to his kiss-swollen lower lip, you whisper into his mouth, “cum inside me, Frankie, please.”

“Baby-” he chokes, his hips speed up, arousing him beyond what he thought was possible. “Want you in me for days, Francisco,” you whimper, licking a stripe on his neck, collecting the salty liquid running down. His hand makes its way back to your throbbing bud. 

Your body goes lax in his hold, you secure your grip at the base of his neck, keeping your faces close to each other. He watches with heavy eyes as you struggle to keep your gaze on his, your brows furrowing slightly as your eyelids begin to flutter. “Need you-” you start, a throaty moan cutting you off. “Need you inside me- need you to fuck it so deep, baby,” you sob, “that it has no choice but to fucking take- fuck-”

Frankie’s heart stutters and his cock twitches. “Yeah?” he grits between his teeth. “Want me to fuck you full?” A particularly hard thrust sends you cross-eyed, your nails digging into his neck. “Want me to fucking get you pregnant right now, baby?” 

An appreciative little slap to your slippery clit jolts your eyes open, his lustful gaze with a hint of something more—like adoration, like pure devotion—stares you down. You pull him into you once more, a clash of spit and teeth and tongue—you can even taste a hint of your own arousal from when he ate you out before you were begging him to knock you up. “Please- fuck- yes, baby, yes- fucking- let me make you a daddy, baby, please- want you- need it- need you so fucking bad-”

Fuck. Frankie’s pace falters, his hips stammer as his orgasm consumes him—his cum painting your warm walls, filling you up to the brim. You moan at the sensation, your hips thrusting backwards into him, and before you realize it, you’re cumming again, both your bottom halves an utter mess of each other’s arousal. 

Frankie softly slips from your heat, and you both hiss at the loss. He releases his hold on you, guiding you onto your back, his hands settling on the insides of your thighs to keep you open for him. His eyes can’t leave the way your pussy looks right now—completely fucked out, shiny with your slick, and filled with his cum. You feel it start to leak out of your hole, and you whine, the feeling so sensitive but dizzying, knowing you’re overflowing with Frankie. 

Before you know it, his fingers are collecting the dripping spend, bringing it back to your entrance, and slowly, his fingers enter you, the initial push inward causing more of his cum to seep out of you, but he’s quick to catch the leakage, pushing it back inside of you, where it needs to be. 

With one hand holding one thigh down and the other inside of your sex, Frankie’s entranced, starting up a delicious pace fucking into you with his fingers. You’re a moaning mess of curses mixed with his name, overstimulation taking over your body, but you don’t want him to stop. 

He couldn’t even if he tried. He’s too caught up in the notion that after this, his sperm could latch, and in nine months from now, you’d be big and round and glowing carrying the product of your love. Fuck, he needs this to work. He’ll fill you up every fucking day if that’s what it takes. 

He’s pulled from his trance when a heady moan roars from your throat, “F-fuck, fuck, Frankie, I’m gonna fucking cum again! Oh my god, baby- fuck-” 

His eyes are on your face: pure ecstasy, he’s seeing, in the way your head throws back into your pillow, only the white of your eyes showing, as the veins pop out your neck as you scream out in pleasure. 

He slides his fingers out, slick with a mixture of both of your arousal, and brings it up to your mouth. He knows how much you love to taste. 

Immediately you open up, lapping up your combined flavors greedily, a content, blissful smile plastered lazily on your face. 

“Am I full, baby?” You mumble. 

“So full, querida,” he whispers, laying his body over yours, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. 

“Do you think…” you trail off softly, nervous. 

“I don’t know, mi amor,” he breathes, kissing your chest. “Guess we’ll just have to keep you full everyday until we can check, huh?” 

Your cheeks heat up, your exhausted pussy already fluttering in anticipation. “Y-yeah. I guess so.” 

End note: LOLOL GUYS I, UH.. I REALLY WENT HARD ON THIS ONE, I'M SORRY BUT ALSO I'M NOT SORRY ASDFGFDFH PLS LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU GUYS THINK <3 YOUR GUYS' WORDS MEAN THE WORLD TO ME, I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH Also how you doing, babe @javierpena-inatacvest?? You alive? Still with me?? I LOVE YOU AHAHAHAH

#L's 1k follower celebration #endless thoughts fics #pedro pascal #pedrohub #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #smut #pedrostories #drabble #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier smut #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales fanfiction #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #francisco morales x f!reader #francisco morales smut #francisco morales

[burntheedges]

Worth It For Once

Frankie Morales x f!reader | 18+ | ao3  chapter word count: 9.6k Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge, song: Slut!

summary: After months of the whispers, rude comments and snide glances from people around town, you’re fed up. You’re trying not to let them get to you, but it’s getting harder to shake it off. And then you meet Frankie Morales.

a/n: this is part of @beskarandblasters' Taylor Swift Drabble (lol) Challenge! My song is "Slut!" from 1989. Sorry, Kel, this isn’t exactly a drabble. Spanish translations provided in parentheses. Thank you as always @katareyoudrilling aka the best beta 🧡

tags/warnings: flirting, banter, food and drink mention, reader has no description other than having a vagina and brief mention of breasts, able-bodied reader, reader’s ex spread mean rumors about her, small town gossip, bartender!reader, derogatory language used in a derogatory way (slut, other things) (not by Frankie), Frankie speaks Spanish and reader understands, pet names (hermosa, baby, querida, bebita), smut: kissing, groping, hickies, oral (f!receiving), p-in-v sex (protected), fingering (f!receiving), cuddling, oral against a wall

...

You could hear them talking about you.

You’d heard your name, which gave it away, but also the words “Chris”, “easy,” and “slut” and, well. You knew.

It’s not like they tried to hide it, really. But you always knew when they were talking about you. If the glances and overheard words didn’t give it away, the laughing whenever you walked by did.

You sighed as you gathered the glasses from the newly empty table by the low stage at the back of the room. “Just ignore them,” Laura had whispered to you earlier. “They’re not worth it.”

As always, it didn't really help.

You carried the dirty dishes back behind the bar and ignored the sudden, ostentatious hush from the corner booth full of guys that you had to pass to get there. They could at least try to be less obvious about it. You locked eyes briefly with Laura, the other bartender on duty that night and your best friend, and she frowned sympathetically. You shook your head in response. You both knew there was nothing you could do about it.

Once you were done dropping off your load in the kitchen, you allowed yourself one brief moment of leaning against the wall of the dark hallway that led back to the bar. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. 

“Fuck them,” you whispered to yourself. “And fuck him.” You shook your head and heaved yourself back up, heading back to work.

…

“You’d think they’d get tired of it,” Laura remarked, pushing her way back behind the bar with the signed tab from the corner booth. After a couple more hours of irritation they had finally left. 

“Not so far,” you sighed. “And it’s not just them. They’re just the worst ones.” Chris’ friends hadn’t let up in the 6 months since you’d been broken up and didn’t show any signs of losing interest in making your life miserable.

Laura furrowed her brow and made a disgusted noise. “They’re such assholes. At least he knows better than to come here.”

You nodded. It was the one silver lining around the whole situation – Chris would never set foot in this bar again, if he knew what was good for him. “Bill would kick him out and he knows it.” Bill was your boss and the owner and he had hated Chris even before you’d started dating.

Laura laughed, darkly. “He may be able to lie to most of the town, but Bill would never believe him.” She sighed as she started cleaning up behind the bar. “I don’t know why they all believe him anyway.”

You shrugged. You’d had a lot of time to think about this question, and you were pretty sure you knew the answer. It was simple, in the end. “He’s from here. I’m not.”

With a huff, Laura rolled her eyes. “That’s so stupid. You’re from here, too. You were six when your parents moved to town.”

You smiled a little. She was a good friend, but she was wrong about this. “That’s not enough for them, and you know it.” Them being all the old money families in town, the ones who hadn’t thought you were good enough for Chris in the first place. The ones who heard about your break up and clucked like satisfied old hens, finally proven right. The ones who gossiped about you over brunch and at the golf course every weekend. She was never right for him anyway. He can do better. You knew that’s what they thought – some of them had said it to your face.

But at least your bar wasn’t really their scene. 

“God I hate this town,” Laura muttered, violently shoving the dishwasher closed. “How’d we get stuck here, anyway.”

You laughed and nudged her with your elbow. “It’s not so bad. Just have to ignore them.”

She eyed you. “Is that working for you? Ignoring them?”

You bit your lip and turned, trying to hide your face from her scrutiny. “Most days, sure.” You felt her arms come around you from behind and smiled at the hug.

“My offer to punch him still stands.” 

Your smile turned into a grin. She’d offered the day of the break up and reminded you often ever since.

“Thank you, but I’ll pass.”

Laura grumbled as you both got busy cleaning up behind the bar and turned to talking about your plans for your upcoming day off. One more day of work and you had almost a whole free weekend, for once. You tried to shrug off your tension from a night of dodging the looks of the many people in this town who’d decided you were worth about as much as a bit of dirt on the bottom of their shoes. It sort of worked.

…

The next day was your last day of work before your day off, but you didn’t work until the evening. You celebrated by sleeping until almost noon.

Once you were awake and showered and feeling generally more alive, you decided to head to the coffee shop downtown for a late breakfast. You ignored the possibility that you might run into one of Chris’ friends there – you’d decided months ago not to let them keep you from doing what you wanted.

You were pleased to see that it wasn’t too busy when you arrived and your favorite table by the window was open and waiting for you. You ordered quickly and snagged it, settling in with your current book.

You glanced up as the door opened with a light jingle a few minutes later and did a double take. 

It was him.

Not your ex, thank God, but him – the man who’d been slowly taking over your thoughts and daydreams for the last month or so.

Frankie Morales, recent arrival in town and newbie-turning-regular at the bar you worked at. He’d been flirting with you since the moment you met, and you were living in fear of the day he would hear the rumors and stop. 

As he stepped into the shop he removed his hat and ran his hand through his curly hair, which caused it to fluff up and fall cutely around his face. He replaced the hat quickly, though, and glanced around the shop. You started to look away, afraid to be caught, but he met your eyes and grinned.

Changing course, he turned from the path to the counter to walk towards your spot at the window.

“Fancy meeting you here,” his brown eyes twinkled at you as he came to stand next to you. “You busy? Can I join you?” He nodded hopefully towards the empty chair across from you, and you started to smile.

“Sure, Frankie,” you felt hesitant but you didn’t want him to leave. You started to rearrange your belongings to give him some space.

“I’ll order and be right back.” He gestured back over his shoulder at the counter.

You nodded and smiled and tried not to stare as he turned and walked away from you.

There was a short line at the register. You tried to keep from watching him wait there but only succeeded in limiting it to quick glances at him out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t help but trace your eyes over the way he looked in his jeans and denim shirt. He was so broad. You shook your head, trying to clear it.

Frankie was next in line when the door jingled again, and to your dismay two of the guys who’d just spent the entire previous night laughing at you at the bar walked in. You ducked your head, hoping they wouldn’t notice you. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched in growing horror as they came to stand behind Frankie. You clenched your hands in your lap and tried to breathe.

One of them clearly spotted you and a smirk came across his face that sent your stomach plummeting to your feet. He elbowed his friend and you couldn’t hear what he said, but Frankie clearly could.

His back stiffened and his hands clenched into fists. You desperately wanted to know what they were saying and you really didn’t want Frankie to hear it. You were frozen, wondering if this was it, if this was the end of whatever had been building between you since you met. Wondering if it was over before it even began.

Frankie ordered and you could see the tension in his frame as he tried to ignore the two men behind him when they started to laugh. You couldn't take it anymore and closed your eyes, hiding behind your hands.

Just a moment later you heard footsteps returning to your table.

“Hey,” his voice was low and soothing and you couldn’t help but look up at him. He was still tense, but his face was gentle as he looked at you. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You swallowed, mouth dry. You couldn’t tell if he was offering to go somewhere together, but you shook your head regardless. 

“I try not to let them make choices for me about where I go or what I do.” You twisted your fingers together, wondering if that was too direct, too much of an admission. Did he know?

Frankie nodded, a thoughtful frown on his face as he sat across from you. His eyes darted behind you to your right and his frown deepened. You resisted the urge to turn and look. 

“Is it always like that?” As he asked, he slid his right hand across the table to touch the back of yours lightly with his fingertips. You shivered.

“Not with everyone.” He slid his hand over yours and squeezed gently. You continued, “but with some people in town, yeah. What–” you cleared your throat. “What did they say?” You needed to know what they’d said in his hearing, but at the same time, you never wanted to know. You’d heard enough.

Frankie shook his head, scowling. “I’m not gonna repeat it.” 

You winced.

“Hey,” he squeezed your hand again, leaning towards you. “I’m not listening to them, alright? I promise. I haven’t, and I won’t.”

You blinked, taking that in. He hasn’t? Past tense? “You mean, you’ve heard something– I mean, something else? They said something? Before now?”

Frankie ran his thumb gently over the back of your hand, searching between your eyes for something. “Yes. But I haven’t paid them any attention. I promise, ok?”

You took a deep breath and tried to push back the pricks of emotion you felt building behind your eyes. “I’m sorry, Frankie, I don’t know what you heard but I can imagine, but it’s not–”

“Shh,” he hushed you gently and scooted his chair around the small round table towards you so he could take both of your hands in his. “Hey, no. I promise, I’m not listening to them. I know what small towns are like, hermosa. I know what small people are like. I’d rather hear about you from you. I–” he smiled, a bit sheepishly. “I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to ask you out for weeks.”

You grasped at his hands, clutching where he was already holding them. “You have?”

“Yeah, I have. Just wasn’t sure you’d be interested.” You scoffed and he smiled. He said your name quietly and leaned forward. “D’you want to go out with me?”

You bit your lip. “Are you sure? You know they won’t– they’ll talk. I don’t want them to start with you, too.”

Frankie frowned and looked down. When he met your eyes again his gaze was fierce. It pinned you in place.

“They’ll talk anyway, and I don’t give a fuck what they think.” He squeezed your hands. “I only care what you think. Can I take you out, hermosa?”

You nodded and started to smile. 

He smiled back. “When are you free?” 

“Well, tomorrow’s my day off,” you started. He grinned when you continued, “how’s tomorrow night?”

He nodded, looking excited. “Baby, I’d love that. Mind if I drop by your work later today, too?”

Baby. You shivered and nodded and as he started to plan your date, you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face.

…

You headed into work that night with the smile still on your face. Frankie had promised to come by the bar that night, so you’d be seeing him soon. That thought combined with your excitement for the date had you floating through the doors of Bill’s bar.

Laura took one look at you and demanded details, which you happily provided as you got ready in the back together. 

Laura knew him too, since Frankie and his friend Santiago had first visited the bar almost two months before, when Frankie had first moved to town. His best friend had helped him move and stayed in town for a few days while he got settled, you’d learned that night. Among other things. (Like how pretty Frankie’s eyes were when he smiled at you, and how he hadn’t stopped smiling at you the whole night. How he’d been looking at you like that ever since.)

You knew you’d been standoffish in the beginning. You’d wondered if he’d figured it out, if he’d heard the things they said about you and seen the way they looked at you in town. And now you knew he had, but as you thought back over the time you’d known him, you realized you couldn’t figure out when that might have been. He’d never treated you differently, never stopped flirting with you. Never hesitated, never looked at you with anything but delight and wonder in his eyes.

“So, a date with Frankie, huh,” she nudged you with her elbow as you walked back towards the front together, ready to start your shift.

You nodded. “He’s coming by tonight.” You felt the smile tugging at the edge of your lips where it had made its home since you saw him at the coffee shop. “Not sure when, though.”

She went through the door first, and you heard her laugh. “Now.”

“What?” you asked as you came through. You turned to see what she was looking at.

“Now. He’s already here.” Laura kept laughing as she headed to the other end of the bar and you grinned as you locked eyes with the man waiting for you at the bar. He smiled back and watched you approach. 

“Frankie, didn’t you just get done with work like half an hour ago?”

He shrugged. “Wanted to see you, hermosa. Just went home to change and figured, why wait?”

You laughed. “You know I won’t be able to talk to you much, right?” You wanted to stay and chat but you knew work would pull you away, repeatedly.

“I know.” He nodded. “I’ll be here when you’re free.”

The idea of Frankie wanting to see you so badly he’d sit here alone made something twist in your chest. “Ok, Frankie.” 

It wasn’t busy yet, so you stayed to chat until some of the regulars started to arrive. Somehow, even with the interruptions of you needing to actually do your job, you felt connected with him like you were on two ends of a string. You’d pour a drink and glance up, and find him already looking at you. Or think about him and look over to find him smiling down at his drink, looking like maybe he was thinking about the same thing.

Laura teased you mercilessly about the smile on your face that you couldn’t seem to get rid of.

Your good mood lasted through the first couple of hours of your shift, but right after the dinner rush you turned towards the taps to find Laura in front of you, scowling.

“What is it?” She shadowed you as you started to pour a couple of pints for the guys at the other end of the bar.

“They’re here,” she whispered, gesturing with her head towards the back corner. 

Your shoulders climbed up around your ears at the news. “Of course they are. Which ones?”

She crossed her arms and huffed. “Jared and his buddies.” Jared was Chris’ best friend, and usually the ringleader whenever he wasn’t around. 

“Great,” you muttered.

She helped you carry the drinks back. “Hey, you know I’ve got their table. Don’t worry about it.” You nodded and bumped her hip with yours in thanks.

Laura headed over to meet them and you tried to put them out of your mind. They were all the way across the bar from where Frankie was sitting, and you moved back towards him. 

He was studying you as you walked up and you knew he’d probably seen them come in. “Is that more of them?” he asked, voice low. You nodded. He sighed. “I’m glad Laura’s got your back.”

“Yeah,” you agreed as you refilled his water. “I usually don’t have to talk to them at all.”

Frankie tilted his head, thoughtful. “Do they come in here just to bother you?”

You sighed and leaned towards him, crossing your arms. “I think so. They never came here before.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Before?” He repeated, obviously curious.

“Before I broke up with their friend. He’s not here, Bill won’t allow it.”

“Good,” Frankie murmured, brow furrowed. “But they keep coming back?”

“At least a few times a week,” you confirmed. 

He glanced across the bar at them, frowning. “What do they do?”

You shook your head and reached out to turn his head back to face you. He smiled and tilted his jaw so that his cheek rested against your palm. “Mostly just stare and talk about me. I can’t hear them, usually, but they make it obvious.”

You could tell he wanted to ask why. Why they bothered you, why they did all this. The surprising thing was how much you wanted to tell him.

“I’ll tell you about it later, ok? Not here.” You brushed your thumb over his cheek and his smile grew.

He nodded. “Ok, baby. But you don’t have to tell me anything, it’s like I told you. I want to learn about you from you. There’s no rush.” 

You smiled, warmed by his words, and headed back to work.

…

A few hours later, the crowd was winding down and Laura waved you off when you offered to stay and close with her. 

“We don’t need you,” she said, gesturing down the bar towards Sean, whose shift had started later than yours. “Go take your man home.” You laughed, and glanced back at Frankie, but he wasn’t looking at you. 

He was frowning and looking off to his right because Jared was walking straight towards him. 

You squeezed Laura’s arm and she turned to look. “Shit,” she muttered. “Maybe he’s just going to the bathroom.”

You both winced as Jared stopped right beside Frankie’s chair. You started to move towards them, but Jared was already speaking. 

“... you shouldn’t bother with her, man, she’s a real piece of work.” Jared’s snooty tone grated on your nerves. It’d been a while since you had to listen to it.

“Excuse me?” Frankie’s voice was low and you could hear the anger in it. He looked absolutely furious, mouth drawn into a straight line, brows furrowed. His hands were clenched on the bar in front of him.

“Hey, ready to go?” You spoke only to Frankie, ignoring Jared, who huffed. “I’m off for the night.” Frankie nodded, visibly taking a deep breath and releasing his fists.

Jared sneered and you caught it out of the corner of your eye. “You know, even for one night she’s not worth the–” 

You cut him off before he could say whatever vile thing he was thinking. “Get lost, Jared.”

He huffed again and turned from you to Frankie. “Look, man, I get she’s probably fine in bed, given where she’s been, but I promise you, you don’t want to touch this one with a 10-foot pole.”

Frankie looked like he was thinking about putting Jared on the ground and you decided enough was enough. 

“C’mon, Frankie,” you slipped out from behind the bar and tugged him towards the back with you. “Let me grab my stuff and we can go.”

“Hijo de puta,” (son of a whore) Frankie muttered. He made a low sound almost like a growl and you startled. He looked immediately apologetic. “Sorry, baby,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your hairline. It was the first time he’d done anything like that, and you almost froze in place at how nice his lips felt on your skin. “Let’s go.”

Jared scoffed behind you, but you were already turning away. “Fine, man. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you about the town slut when you regret this later.”

You heard Sean start to threaten to throw Jared out so you grabbed Frankie’s arm and dragged him back to the staff area. He immediately gathered you in his arms as soon as you let the break room door fall shut behind you.

“Mierda,” (shit) he breathed, burying his face in your neck. “That’s the type of shit you’re dealing with? I am so sorry baby.” He pulled you in tighter, and you relaxed into his hold. “I promise I can keep it together. Just took me by surprise, how bad it was.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered. “I’ll tell you about it. But let’s get out of here first.”

“Hey,” he started, pulling back. “You don’t have to–”

“No, I know,” you interrupted, gathering your stuff. “I want to.”

He nodded and slid his hand into yours as you turned to leave. “Wanna go out the back?” He squeezed your hand gently as he asked.

You sighed and nodded. “Might as well.”

The two of you slipped out the back of the kitchen and turned to walk around the building to your cars. “Follow me home?” You asked nudging him. 

Frankie smiled. “You sure?”

“Yes.” You leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “C’mon.”

Soon enough the two of you were pulling into your complex and walking up to your door. You felt his hand come to rest on the small of your back as you dug for your keys and you leaned back into it for a moment. The way he’d started touching you more today since you agreed to a date was sending your mind spinning. You hoped he’d still want to, after your talk.

“Come in, Frankie.” You invited him in and he followed your lead in removing his shoes before you both dropped onto the couch. 

“Wait, sorry, do you want something to drink?” You started to stand again but he stopped you. 

“No, I’m fine. Just had plenty of water from a very attentive bartender.” He winked, and you laughed. “C’mere.” He tugged on your hand and you slid closer until you were settled on the cushion next to him, slightly turned towards him. You let yourself relax, leaning sideways against the back of your couch. He looked so warm and broad and comfortable in your home – you wished you felt up to leaning on him instead. But you needed a little bit of space for this. 

You sat for a minute, trying to figure out where to start. As if he could sense your hesitation, he reached out and took your hand in his again, and you sighed. “Ok, well. I guess I should explain.” 

“Whatever you want to tell me, I’ll listen.” He started to rub the back of your hand with his thumb and you smiled. 

“Ok. Here we go.” You drew in a deep breath and tried to let his presence ground you. You stared down at your joined hands as you spoke. “I was dating Chris for almost a year. It went ok, I guess, for a while. But it turns out he’s a massive asshole.” Frankie squeezed your hand. “Yeah, I should have known better. I’ve known him all my life. But he was never mean like some of them.”

“Them?” Frankie asked. You could feel that he was looking at your face, but you couldn’t look away from the way his thumb was caressing your hand. 

“The rich kids. The ones whose families have been here since forever, the ones with land and big houses and so on. They were always mean to anyone who wasn’t like them. And I was never like them.” With your free hand you started to idly pick at a stubborn thread that was sticking out of your couch cushion. It refused to budge and you bit your lip.

You sighed. “But he wasn’t mean, back in school. So when he asked me out I gave him a chance. We’d all been away to college and come back. I figured he’d probably grown up some. And it seemed like he had, for a while.” You shrugged. The thread started to wiggle a little and you tugged at it harder. “But he’s not different. He used to bring me to family stuff, and his parents always treated me like shit and he swore he didn’t notice. Then at the end I found out he’d been cheating on me for months, almost the whole relationship. And when I confronted him he caused a scene and flipped it around on me.”

Frankie stiffened and you closed your eyes. “Like a hundred people heard him yell that I’d been cheating on him with his friends, that they all told him it was true. I couldn’t believe it at the time — it was a side of him I’d never seen before.” You laughed to yourself, darkly. “He’s a great actor. And then on my way out of the house his mom accused me of stealing some jewelry — the earrings I was wearing. Which he had given me a gift.” You opened your eyes, finally, and saw that you’d tugged so hard the thread was pulling away from the fabric of the couch, but it looked like it might create a run in the fabric. You knew you should stop tugging on it, but you couldn’t. “But it was enough. Now the rich people in town who all go to the same country club treat me like shit and whisper behind my back. Chris started dating some new girl a few months ago but she’s rich, too.”

Suddenly Frankie’s free hand smoothed over yours, and he gently pulled yours away from where you’d been about to create a hole in the fabric of your couch cushion. He tugged both of your hands into his lap. “What’s up with the guys who come to the bar, then?”

You groaned and finally looked up to meet his eyes. “I have no idea. I can’t figure out if they know he was lying and just decided to protect him, or if they believe him and decided to make my life miserable. Maybe they just hate me for some reason. Whatever it is, I just try to ignore it.”

Frankie frowned, gently, and squeezed both of your hands. “You deserve better.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you. I know.”

He nodded and finally smiled. “Good.” He looked at you for a moment, studying your face. “Thank you for telling me.”

You nodded, not sure what to say. But Frankie continued, “I promise not to lose it on those guys.”

“They’d deserve it,” you laughed as you agreed. “But they’re not worth the trouble.”

Frankie looked thoughtful as he lifted both of your hands to press soft kisses along your knuckles. “Well, hermosa, I’m glad you agreed to go out with me.”

You perked up and tried not to look anxious. “You still want to go out? Are you sure?”

He shot you a look and you laughed a little. “Of course I do, baby.” He leaned a little bit closer and continued, voice low. “I mean it, you deserve better. And I want to give it to you, if you’ll let me. I want to give you everything.”

Your breath caught in your throat. All you could do was nod. He grinned. “Good.”

…

The next night, you were anxious.

Frankie said he’d pick you up at 6pm, so at 5:55pm you were standing nervously behind the front door of your apartment, getting a text pep talk from Laura.

He seems like a good guy. But if he says or does anything weird just text me. I’ll come get you.

You smiled. This was your first date, the first time you’d really dressed up, in six months, and you were nervous. But Laura was right – Frankie seemed like a good guy. You rocked back on your heels as you waited by your door. Maybe this would work out, after all.

Just then, someone knocked, and your smile grew as you flung the door open.

Frankie looked nervous on the other side of it and your breath caught in your throat as you took him in. He had on dark jeans, a button up shirt, and his hair was styled without a hat. 

“Frankie, you look–”

“Hermosa, te–”

You both laughed when you talked over each other. Frankie stepped forward to tangle your fingers together. 

“This is gorgeous on you, baby.” With his free hand he ran his fingertips down your side and you shivered. 

“You’re looking pretty handsome yourself, Frankie.” He blushed in such an adorable way that you wanted to kiss him before you even got out of your apartment. You cleared your throat. “Shall we?”

Frankie nodded and stepped backwards to lead you out of your apartment. He kept his fingers laced with yours as you locked the door and made your way to his car.

“So where are we going?” You asked once you were settled in the passenger seat. Frankie had wanted it to be a surprise, and you wondered what he picked. 

“Well, hermosa, I thought you might enjoy getting out of town for a bit.” You looked at him, surprised. He shrugged. “I heard at work that there’s a restaurant in the next town over that’s pretty amazing, thought we could try it. Got a reservation and everything.”

You smiled and reached out to take his hand again. “Sounds perfect, Frankie.” 

On the way to the restaurant he updated you on his coworkers’ shenanigans – he usually visited the bar at least weekly and gave you the update then, and you felt a little thrill at the idea that you and Frankie were spending time together outside of where you worked. He wanted to spend time with you. He knew, and it still felt as easy and warm as it ever did with him. You sank into it with a smile.

“I’m really glad you asked me out, Frankie,” you told him in a lull in the conversation. You watched as he blushed again and grinned. 

“Me too, baby.” He tugged your hand up to press a kiss to your knuckles, the same way he had the night before. You bit your lip. His lips were so soft and you wondered what they might feel like somewhere else. It sent your head spinning and you took a deep breath. You knew this was only the beginning of the night. 

When you arrived, Frankie met you by the passenger door of his truck. He slid his hand around your waist until it came to rest on the small of your back, walking next to you into the restaurant. 

“Two for Morales,” he told the host, stepping away from you briefly. You took the opportunity to study the restaurant, since you’d never been. It was all deep, rich tones of green and brown, with dark wood floors and low lighting that flickered like candlelight. The tables were far enough apart to feel cozy and romantic and you smiled a little bit to yourself as you thought about Frankie seeking out a place like this for your date. 

The host gestured for you to follow and you started to weave through the restaurant towards a small round booth in the back corner. As you did, though, you heard a voice you recognized.

“What the devil is she doing here?” She wasn’t shouting, but then, she never had to to be heard. 

You tried to glance discreetly to your right and felt the blood drain out of your face. Chris’ new girlfriend and a bunch of their friends were seated at a long table near the front windows. You didn’t see Chris himself, thank God, but this wasn’t much better. 

Your foot came down funny on your next step. You felt yourself start to stumble and it kicked off a spiral of anxiety inside of you – you were going to hit the ground in the middle of this fancy restaurant, and they would see it, and –

But you barely wobbled before Frankie’s arm slipped around your waist again and supported you, keeping you upright. Somehow you both continued forward as if nothing had happened.

You could hear them whispering behind you as you moved farther into the restaurant and you struggled to take a deep breath. Frankie tightened his arm around you and leaned in. You could feel his lips brush against your ear as he whispered, “fuck ‘em. They don’t deserve even a glance from you, querida.” 

He guided you into your both and slid in next to you, and you realized you couldn’t see them from here. Frankie could, but he was only looking at you. You looked back and you felt the tension in your shoulders start to slip away.

You knew what they thought. You knew what they were probably saying, what Chris had told them about you after you broke up. But somehow, for once, it really didn’t matter. They might have been looking at you, but suddenly you couldn’t feel their stares. You had Frankie’s eyes on you, only for you, and that was worth more than anything else. Your spine straightened and you leaned forward to tangle your fingers with his on the table. 

“You’re right, Frankie.” You smiled. “There’s only one person I want to look at in here, anyway.” 

He grinned and ducked his head. “I know you’ve caught me looking at you at the bar, hermosa.” 

You bit your lip. “Maybe. But only ‘cause I was looking back.”

Frankie laughed and lifted your hands to press another kiss to the back of yours. “Well, good. Having your eyes on me is all I’ve wanted.”

You felt your own cheeks heat as his words. You’d been suffering under the unwavering attention of half the town for months, slowly shrinking into yourself even as you tried not to let them get to you. But somehow the attention of this man was doing the exact opposite. You felt like you were glowing under his gaze, like you were emerging out of a long darkness into the sunlight at last. 

The rest of dinner felt the same. You lost yourself in the low lights, the warm room, the soft touches, the rumbling sound of Frankie’s voice as he flirted and laughed and whispered in your ear. You felt like you were in your own world with him in the booth as the sounds of the restaurant swirled around you but never quite reached you. The flicker of the soft light across his face captured your eyes and he smiled whenever he caught you looking at his mouth.

By the time you fought briefly over the check (Frankie won, but only because you secured a promise that you would pay for the next one) you felt like you were floating. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so wanted. You wanted to sink into Frankie and never come out.

He stood first and offered his hand as you stood from the table. You smiled up at him and took it. As he slipped his hand around your waist again you finally glanced back towards the front of the restaurant. You realized you’d completely forgotten they were there, but you remembered suddenly when you saw them again. They hadn’t left.

But you felt different than you had before. Frankie’s arm pulled you in and he started to walk towards the door. You looked at him and smiled, and felt yourself sink back into the connection the two of you had started to build over dinner. 

They might as well look, you thought as you walked past their table. You looked at Frankie again. I’d look at us, too.

You floated out the door and through the parking lot towards his car. You reached for the door handle but he stopped you, turning you around and crowding you back against the passenger door. 

Frankie’s eyes were dark and intent and you felt a shiver climb up your spine.

“Can I kiss you, hermosa?” He whispered into the air between you and you could have sworn you saw his words in the reflections of the lights and the stars above your head.

“Yes, Frankie,” you breathed. “Please–”

He leaned in and finally pressed his lips to yours, and you heard yourself moan into the kiss. His lips were soft as they pressed against yours, sending every thought and worry flying out of your head. You opened for him and he took the invitation, running his tongue lightly over your bottom lip. You gasped as he deepened the kiss.

After a few moments he broke away to press a line of kisses down your jaw and neck until his face was buried in your shoulder. “Fuck, hermosa,” he was breathing hard and you realized suddenly that you were, too. “You feel so good in my arms.” He kissed you again, on the spot where your neck sloped into your shoulder, and you shivered. “You looked so hot walking past those assholes without so much as sparing them a glance, you know that?”

You grinned up at the sky and tightened your hold around his neck. “I was just looking at you, Frankie.” You weren’t nervous anymore. You knew what you wanted. “Come home with me?”

He whipped his head up to stare at you. “Are you sure? I don’t– we don’t have to rush anything, baby.”

You nodded, warmed by his concern. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” You watched the grin take over his face, slow and sinful. 

“Me too, baby. I’d like nothing more than to go home with you,” he agreed, before kissing you again. 

“Then take me home, Frankie,” you mumbled against his mouth. He groaned and pulled away to do just that.

Your ride home was full of the best kind of tension. Frankie’s hand came to rest on your thigh and you resisted the urge to scoot it higher up your leg, holding it there under yours. You could feel the tension in his muscles as he held himself still.

By the time you reached your apartment you could have sworn you were both vibrating with the need to touch. 

As you unlocked your apartment door, Frankie stepped up behind you, just like he had the night before. This time he closed the distance and crowded up against your back, snaking his arms around your waist. You leaned back into him, distracted, until he lifted one hand to guide yours with the key towards the door.

You felt him huff a laugh against your neck. “Let’s get inside, querida. We’ve got things to do.” 

You laughed, charmed, as you finally opened your door. “Is that so?” You turned to look at him and his expression made something in your chest clench.

“It is,” he agreed, stepping towards you and closing the door behind him. He turned the lock and stepped forward again to pull you into his arms. “Hi, baby,” he whispered against your mouth, and you smiled as he kissed you. 

Frankie backed you into the wall by your door and you let your keys drop from your hands as you raised them to bury your fingers in his hair. His hands framed your face, flat on the wall on either side of your head as he leaned in. The kiss suddenly went from soft to searing as his body pressed yours into the wall. You could feel him everywhere, surrounding you, all down your front. You became suddenly aware of the hard length of his cock pressing against your hip and you gasped.

He kissed you again but then moved away to scrape his teeth lightly down your neck. He started worrying a mark on your neck under your ear, and you sighed.

“Frankie,” you breathed, tugging at his hair to bring his mouth back to yours. 

“Hmm?” He hummed into your mouth.

You reached back and tugged at one of his arms. “Touch me, Frankie.”

He was so close to you you could feel him shudder in response. “Is that what you want, bebita?” You nodded and felt him smile against your cheek. He moved his right hand from the wall to your side, squeezing your hip. “Where do you want me to touch you? Here?” He teased his fingertips down your hip. You shook your head.

“No? Here, then?” He leaned his weight on his left hand, using his right to trace idle designs up your torso until his fingertips came to rest just under your breast. Your breath hitched.

“Hmm, no, I don’t think so. I think you want something else.” Frankie slipped his hand back down your chest until his fingertips brushed over your core through your clothes. He turned his hand and cupped you gently. With his lips pressed to your ear, he whispered, “here?”

You gasped and nodded. “Yes, Frankie, yes—”

“Shhh,” he pressed kisses to your cheek and the corner of your lips. He gripped you firmly with his hand and you squirmed. “I told you, baby. I want to give you everything.”

You closed your eyes against the feelings he was drawing out of you, overwhelmed at his words. 

He kissed you again, quickly, but pressed his forehead to yours right after, meeting your eyes. 

“Can I put my mouth on you, bebita?” His voice was deep and warm and it melted down your spine.

Your hands flew up to grasp at his shirt. “Frankie, you–”

“I love it,” he murmured, looking right into your eyes. “I’ve been thinking about it. Will you let me?”

You started to smile. “Let you? Frankie, please.” 

He grinned and started tugging at your clothes gently. “C’mon, bebita. Quiero verte.” (I want to see you)

You soon found yourself leaning back against the wall of your hallway, completely bare from the waist down. Frankie dropped to his knees before you, mouth open, eyes wide.

“Fuck,” he whispered, crawling forward. “You are so fucking beautiful.” You felt the heat rise in your cheeks at his words and resisted the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. 

Frankie settled between your knees and smiled up at you. He winked. “Open up, bebita.” He lifted your left leg over his shoulder and you steadied yourself against the wall. “I won’t let you fall.” Frankie moved closer until he was framing you in place with his shoulders. He sucked in a sharp breath. You bit your lip.

“Qué cosita más linda,” (what a pretty little thing) he murmured, leaning forwards. He placed his left forearm over your hips like a bar and pressed a gentle kiss right above your clit. You sighed and slid your hands into his hair.

“That’s right, bebita.” His lips moved against you when he spoke and you shivered. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

You felt his fingers brush along your slit and then press you open. HIs tongue followed right behind as he teased you, licking from your entrance to your clit. You felt boneless, suddenly worried your leg wouldn’t hold you up. But he was pressing you firmly into the wall with his shoulders and his arm. You could see his muscles working in his shoulders and back and it made your head swim.

He flattened his tongue and licked again and you squirmed. He teased the tip of his tongue around your clit and your hips thrust forward before you could stop them. 

“Hey,” Frankie said your name and you blinked and looked down at him. You could see his eyes and the bridge of his nose and you felt your heart rate pick up at the sight of him between your knees like this. “That’s good, baby. Ride my face.”

“Frankie–” you started, breathless.

He moved his arm higher so that your hips could move more easily and leaned forward to slip his tongue through your folds again. You thrust your hips forward and he made an encouraging noise. 

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back against the wall. Frankie teased around your entrance with his fingertips as his tongue worked a slow rhythm on your clit, and on your next thrust forward his finger slipped inside. You gasped and you felt him smile against you. You clutched at his hair, suddenly much overwhelmed.

“Yes, Frankie–” you moaned, and he pressed a second finger inside, twisting both in a way that made you chase them with your hips when he pulled them back. His tongue was moving mercilessly over your clit and you felt it, starting to build at the base of your spine. With every thrust of your hips and curl of his fingers and slide of his tongue he was working you closer and closer, relentlessly driving you upwards towards your peak. You couldn’t catch your breath, you could only do as he asked and clutch at his hair as you ground your hips forward to ride his face.

You chased the feeling climbing up your spine and he urged you on with his fingers and his mouth. On your next thrust, Frankie closed his lips around your clit and sucked, gently, as his fingers thrust forward again, and you were there. 

You cried out as you curled over him, pressing his head into you with your grip in his hair, holding him there as you fell over the edge. His left arm curled around your back and urged you forward, holding you to him as he opened his mouth wide against your pussy. You quivered around his fingers, locked together as he worked you through it with his tongue.

“Fuck,” you choked out as you felt your leg start to give. Frankie caught you by the waist, slipping your leg off of his shoulder and easing you to the floor in front of him. Your eyes met, on the same level again, and your eyebrows raised as you took him in. His face was red and wet and his lips were puffy. His expression was both delighted and wrecked. He was grinning. 

“You taste so fucking good, baby.” You gasped as he leaned in and pressed his wet mouth to your neck. He left a trail of moisture behind as he kissed a path up behind your ear. “Better than I ever imagined. I could spend all night between your legs and never get tired.”

You laughed, slipping your arms around his neck as he leaned over you. “Never?” you teased, and he nodded.

“Can I do that again?” He pulled back and looked down at your pussy and your legs twitched. 

Again? You shook your head. “You can do that anytime, Frankie. But right now I want your cock inside me.” 

His eyes darted back to meet yours and his grin turned into a smirk. “Oh yeah?” He leaned in to kiss you and you smiled. 

“Yeah, Frankie. Take me to bed.” 

He stood and put out his hands to guide you to your feet. “Show me the way, querida.”

He followed closely behind you as you walked to your bedroom, spinning you around the moment you crossed the threshold. He pulled you into another kiss as he walked you carefully backwards towards your bed.

You ran your hands down his sides and realized he was still wearing all of his clothes. “Take these off, Frankie,” you murmured as you undid the button on his pants. He unbuttoned his shirt as you slid his pants down over his hips, and soon he was standing in front of you completely bare. Your eyes widened as you took him in. He was all golden skin and soft muscles – the kind where you knew he was strong without so much definition, with a soft midsection that you wanted to rest your head against like a pillow. You stepped forward and pressed your body against his and found he felt as soft and warm as he looked.

As your naked body came into contact with his, his breath caught and you felt it. “Fuck, hermosa,” he murmured as his hands slid over your back. “You feel so fucking amazing.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed kissed down the line of his collarbone. “So do you, Frankie.” 

As he pulled you in, you felt his cock standing proudly against his stomach. It was hard between your bodies and you squirmed, tilting your hips forward in a vain attempt to feel it against you.

He pressed his smile to your hairline. “‘S that what you want, bebita?”

You nodded, and he walked you back two steps towards the bed without releasing you from his embrace. His cock shifted between you and you sighed. 

“Lie down,” he murmured, guiding you onto the bed. You scooted back and he followed, crawling over you until he was perched above you on his hands and knees. “You look good under me, baby.” 

“You look good over me, Frankie.” You smiled and reached up to tug him down for a kiss. 

He lowered his body to yours slowly and you gasped as you felt his cock come to rest against your hip. You moved your hips, but he continued forward and to the side, coming to rest against you on the bed. “Not yet, bebita. Need to get you ready first.” You frowned and he smiled at you. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

He trailed his fingertips down your chest and stomach until he was teasing at your slit again.

“I’m ready, Frankie,” you insisted, reaching down to grip his cock in one hand. He was big. “You just fingered me by my front door, remember?” You raised your eyebrows at him and pumped his cock in your hand. His hips stuttered forward and you grinned.

He sighed and shook his head at you. “Let me just make sure.” He leaned down to kiss you as his fingers slipped inside you again, two this time, and you opened your legs to give him more room.

“Hmm,” he hummed as he twisted his fingers inside of you. “You were right, bebita. Ya estás mojada.” (you’re already wet) He kissed you as he slipped another finger inside and you arched your back at the sensation. 

“Frankie–” you started, but he interrupted you with another kiss. You could feel how wet you were around his fingers and you wanted more.

“¿Estás lista, bebita?” (are you ready, baby?)

You nodded and reached towards your nightstand and the condoms you knew were inside the drawer. You tried not to let out the whine you could feel at the back of your throat when he pulled his fingers from you gently. He reached over you and grabbed a condom, making quick work of slipping it on.

“C’mere,” he murmured, lifting your leg until it was wrapped around his waist. He bent your other knee and extended it to the side on the bed. You realized you were completely open to him, pussy on display. “Just like that. Fuck, you look gorgeous like this.”

You felt your cheeks heat and looked down to see what he was looking at. Your pussy was open, spread wide, and glistening with your arousal. His cock was mere inches away as he held his hips above yours. You swallowed hard.

“Hey, look at me.”

You looked up at his face and found him smiling softly at you. He tilted his hips forward and you felt the head of his cock nudge against your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath.

He nodded. “That feels so fucking good, baby.” You blinked, trying not to close your eyes. You wanted to see everything.

He shifted his hips until the head of his cock notched against your entrance, and you both gasped. “Ay, mira,” (look) he demanded, and you looked down to watch as the head of his cock pressed inside of you. Your eyes fluttered closed, you couldn’t help it, and you moaned.

“That’s right.” He pressed inside and you felt every inch of his cock as you stretched around him. “You’re taking me so fucking well. You feel so amazing.” He bottomed out and groaned. “Fuck.”

You realized you’d tangled your fingers in his hair, and you tried to tug him down into a kiss. He resisted long enough to pull back out, and the glide of him inside you was devastating.

On the next thrust, he leaned down to capture your mouth with his.

He kissed you as he established a slow, overwhelming rhythm that stole your breath away. You couldn’t feel anything but Frankie, inside you and all around you. Your head spun as you tried to keep up with the movements of his hips and the slide of his mouth against yours.

After a few moments he twisted, reaching around to tuck your leg tighter around his waist. When he did his cock slid in at a new angle that was just right and you gasped.

“¿Así?” (like that?) he breathed. “Right there?”

You nodded, and held him tight against you. “Yes, Frankie,” you sighed. He thrust forward again and your next breath felt like a sob. You could feel it building inside you again, pooling at the base of your spine and tingling down your arms and legs.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmured into your ear. “Let me see you come again. So fucking beautiful when you come.” He pressed a kiss to your neck and you held his head there with your grip in his hair. He reached down to press his thumb to your clit and you gasped. “Dámelo.” (give it to me)

On his next thrust, you did. You felt your pussy tighten around him as you sobbed out his name. You felt like the bed was spinning away beneath you while you were struck, unable to do anything but arch your back and scream Frankie’s name.

He suddenly picked up the pace, and you tugged on his hair to lift his head. You wanted to see his face when he came.

It was beautiful.

His eyes locked on yours as his mouth hung open, and you watched as his orgasm took him. After only a moment he slumped forward, slightly crushing you, and started pressing kisses anywhere he could reach. You giggled at the brush of his mustache against your skin..

“Fuck, hermosa,” he murmured against your skin. “Only our first time, and it was that fucking amazing?” He shook his head and glanced up at you, eyes playful. “Don’t know how we’ll survive getting any better at this.”

You laughed and kissed the corner of his smirk. He turned his head to kiss you back, gently, and you sighed into it.

“Was it as good as you hoped?” You couldn’t help but feel nervous. It had been so long since you’d had this kind of intimacy with someone, and the last one had ended so badly. But Frankie had been carefully taking care of all of your worries and insecurities one-by-one since you’d met, and this time was no different.

“Good?!” Frankie sounded incredulous as he cupped your cheek in his hand. “Baby, it was better. Better than I could have imagined.” He kissed you again, and you squirmed when you felt his soft cock shift, still inside you.

You smiled. “Alright, Frankie, let’s get cleaned up.” He nodded and pulled carefully out of you before heading to the bathroom. He looked back over his shoulder at you and you took a moment to admire his ass and the curve of his spine. “Can I stay? I don’t want to wear out my welcome, but–”

“Of course.” You cut him off. “I want you here.” He grinned and ducked his head.

After a few moments of cleaning up, you found yourself back in bed with Frankie. He had on only his briefs, and you tugged on an old, oversized t-shirt and nothing else. Frankie crowded up behind you in the bed.

“Thank you for going out with me tonight, baby.” He murmured into your neck as he wrapped his arm around your waist, spooning you.

You smiled. “Want to go out again tomorrow?”

You felt him grin against your neck. “Yes, how about tomorrow morning for brunch and then dinner and then, oh, every day this week. As a start.” 

You laughed as he tugged you closer. “Ok, Frankie.” 

He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. “I mean it, baby. This is just the start.”

As you closed your eyes, half asleep, you thought to yourself that you’d never bother paying attention to them again. 

Not when you had Frankie all to yourself.

...

a/n: let me know what you think? 🧡

tag list and some Frankie fans who I think might be interested: @jeewrites @islacharlotte @iknowisoundcrazy @beardedjoel @undercoverpena @goodwithcheese

#frankie morales x reader smut #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales smut #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales x reader #triple frontier fic #frankie morales fanfiction #x reader #here we go #ts drabble challenge

[undercoverpena]

untangling

frankie morales x f!reader

this little drabble is half my fault and half @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain — so blame the latter for why you’ve seen me post so much today.

WARNINGS: reader gets riled up watching frankie detangle a necklace, competency kink is on full form, a bit smutty, alludes to a blowjob, established relationship. written on my phone, so likely errors. word count: 1k

If only you were more careful. A thought so easy to have now, all in retrospect—the carnage of past actions held delicately between your fingers.

He says it sometimes, comments on it with a small smile when you’re clumsy—when you find yourself tumbling or walking into doorways. This is a little different, a little less clumsy and a little more careless.

Hunched over the bed, back aching, sweat beginning to build on your lower spine—just hoping it doesn’t ruin the fabric you’d slipped over your head only ten minutes ago. Because now you’re running late, behind on the time you told him.

All because you’d haphazardly thrown your necklace into your jewellery box the last time you’d worn it. Giddy, excitement building in your muscles as you stripped and rid yourself of everything that could stand in the way of feeling him. The necklace’s removal had been cautionary, not wanting it to be ruined.

The irony.

Each attempt at untangling the knot comes with a fresh, heavier exhale from your flared nostrils. Irritation weaves itself into your muscles with each minute that ticks on by, as another blow of hot breath dances down the V of your dress.

Tears begin to prick, distantly hearing him moving around just below. Waiting, likely checking his watch out of fear of being late—because he loathes being late, a thing from his army days, a part of his character.

The only thing soothing you is the lingering scent of his aftershave. It floats in the air of the bedroom the two of you share, even if he left it over half an hour ago for you to get dressed.

Which, technically you are—just not completely.

Because you can’t go to dinner with him without this.

The gift from your first few months of dating. A present, a thing picked, chosen and given by him. All hopeful almond-brown eyes, relief flooding through him when you told him you loved it as fingers on your neck—all warm, calloused—helped fasten it.

It’s why you have to detangle it. Fix it.

“Fuck,” you mumble. “Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck—“

“Querida?”

It’s soft, laced with concern. A tone you don’t deserve when you look over your shoulder and find him in the doorway—looking even more handsome than the day you first met him.

It’s a rush, a collection of words that make an amalgamated sentence he’s somehow able to decipher. But then, Frankie speaks you; he knows you. Can read your body as though it talks directly to him, spills secrets to him your brain is not yet willing to provide.

You suppose it’s why your body relaxes at his touch, fingers on the back of your arm, knuckles up and down in soft lines.

“Let me try, baby.”

All calm and collected, his hand gesturing out—nothing but soft brown eyes that meet yours as you slide the chain and the pendant into his palm.

It’s like watching magic happen. His fingers—all thick, worn, weathered—somehow able to begin to loosen the crime you committed. The metal listening, doing as he commands as he begins to undo the work from you hurrying all those months ago.

Some part of you is in disbelief, because it shouldn’t be a thing. Those fingers compared to your thinner ones, and yet, you’re watching it happen—seeing in real-time as once again he does the impossible. As the chain begins to sit flat, no ball of shambles, just a beautiful necklace in his finger.

And it makes heat bloom in your stomach, a knot forming and tightening that makes it hard to think of anything but how good his hands are in other places too. Your thighs pressing together, teeth biting down on your lip, all desperate to alleviate, unsure how watching him do such a mundane task is making you so wet between your legs. So much so, you struggle to swallow when he flicks his eyes up to you and smiles.

Because how can you be so impressed, dumbfounded and utterly turned on that he did that so easily, so competently—as though it was the easiest thing of all?

“Stand up and turn around for me,” Frankie says, voice low.

And you do. Better that than question the swirling thoughts of dragging his mouth to yours, to sliding fingers into his hair and having his competent fucking hands slide your dress up your thighs—have him ball it up, show you what else he can do (for the billionth time) with limited time.

The bed squeaks as you stand, almost wobbling, heels clicking on the floor as you move and stand before him, turning, as you see his hands in your peripheral and feel cold metal on your skin.

“Have I told you how good you look?”

Smiling, heat warms your cheeks—it fizzing in your ears. “Not yet, Morales.”

Fingers pressing the pendant to your chest, hearing him fastening—imagining the tip of his tongue poking through his lips, face full of concentration and focus.

“You look beautiful, querida,” he whispers as his breath dances over your neck, necklace fastened, perfectly in place as his fingers slide down over your shoulders, resting on your arms as he

Taking in a measured breath, you turn your head, catching his gaze—seeing it flick from your face to the deep V of your dress.

“How long have we got, Morales?”

It leaves your tongue calm, plain. But you suspect he knows what you’re getting at, likely already knows you’re soaked—seemingly caught on to the competency kink you have going on.

Licking his lips, he smirks, all-knowing as a snort half escapes, “Querida…”

But you’re already turning, mouth suddenly desperate to have something inside of it that doesn’t come on a plate. Hands finding refuge on his shoulders, using them to slip from your heels, before dropping to the waist of your dress.

“How long, Frankie?”

He swallows, visibly. Curses under his breath as more of your thighs are unveiled, cool air kissing over your already-soaked panties. And he mumbles a number, a frame of time to work in.

“Perfect,” you whisper, fingers working his belt, it clanging, loosening before you find his zipper. “Want to still feel you in the back of my throat every time I try and eat tonight, Morales. You got that?”

Whatever comment he’d been about to say is taken, stolen, by your mouth wrapping around his half-hardened cock.

You’re not sure you regret your necklace tangling now.

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x you #Frankie morales Drabble #Frankie morales fanfiction #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #francisco morales x you

[joelsgreys]

more hearts than mine

Frankie Morales x Female Reader

summary: Frankie promises you he’s not going anywhere.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. no physical description of reader, no mention of her age, reader has both of her parents, reader has a little sister (15 and unnamed), reader has a close relationship with her family (cannot say i am writing this from experience oop), reader is from a small, unnamed town somewhere in the midwest (state not specified), established relationship, mention of ex-boyfriend, mentions of alcohol consumption, reassurance, fluff, smutty themes towards the end but no smut.

word count: 2k

a/n: this was not planned and very spur of the moment. i think i needed a palette cleanse from writing so much joel. it’s my first time writing for frankie but i like the way it turned out. <3 i it’s 3 am, i wrote this in an hour and it is not proofread, so please excuse any errors. this is based on a song called more hearts than mine by ingrid andress.

“It’s late,” you worry. “Where could they be?”

Amused, your mother watches you anxiously pace back and forth in front of the dining room table. “My darling, can you please relax? They probably hit some traffic on their way back home from the lake. I bet you anything those two will be walking through the front door any second now,” she assures you. At that precise moment, her cell phone vibrates on the table, the loud buzzing noise garnering her attention. She picks it up and raises her eyebrows in complete surprise. “Oh. Or maybe not. Your father just texted me and said they’re stopping for a couple of drinks at the bar. He says not to wait up for them.”

Halting mid pace, you whirl around and stare at her. 

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope.” She shows you the text. “See?”

“Jesus,” you mutter. Shaking your head, you drop down into the chair across from hers.

“That’s a pretty good sign. Don’t you think so, honey?”

It is because your father taking your boyfriend out on a fishing trip and then taking him to his favorite bar for drinks afterwards means that their time alone together has gone well. But, even though your father had clearly taken a liking to him, he won’t ever show it. Sure, he’ll buy him dinner and he’ll buy him drinks, he’ll check his tires and take a look underneath the hood of his pickup truck to make sure everything looks good, but he’ll do it with a scowl on his face and a standoffish attitude.

“He hates me, baby. Your old man hates me,” Frankie declared after his first dinner with your family. You had both arrived in your hometown that same evening after a gruelling, sixteen hour drive to the midwest. Despite being exhausted from the trip, he’d put his best foot forward for them—he’d charmed your mother and your little sister, had them both wrapped around his finger by the time dessert had been served. But your father, oh he had been much harder for him to win over. “He barely said two words to me all night.”

“My dad doesn’t hate you,” you swore to him, rubbing a soft, soothing circle into his broad back. “Do you want to know how I know that?”

“How?”

“Because he poured you a drink.”

He’d snorted. “What, and that means he likes me?”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” you joked with a giggle. “It’s still too early to tell if he likes you. But one thing is for sure, he doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t break out a bottle of whiskey for someone he hates, Frankie.”

Sighing, you lift your legs, pulling your knees up to your chest.

Poor Frankie. He’s probably spent the better part of the whole day just trying to figure him out.

“I like him,” your mother says after a minute. “I like him a lot.”

“What a coincidence,” you grin. “I like him a lot too.”

She laughs. “I’m serious! He’s incredible, darling. He is so handsome. He’s sweet. Seems like he’s got a really good head on his shoulders—”

“Are we talking about Francisco?” Your sister walks into the dining room with can of Dr. Pepper in one hand and her cell phone in the other.

“As a matter of fact, we are.” Your mother smiles. “Isn’t he great?”

“He’s kinda perfect, actually.” She takes a casual sip of her soda and raises an eyebrow at you. “I have to admit though, I’m afraid to get attached to Frankie. You know, after what happened with Jake—”

You wince at the mention of your ex-boyfriend’s name.

Your mother hisses her name, angrily.

“I’m just saying! When he broke up with you, it’s like he broke up with all of us. It sucked.” She shrugs, adding, “I mean, even dad was sad about it for months. Wasn’t he, mom?”

“Don’t you have a paper to write?” Your mother glares at her.

Your sister starts towards the staircase, but stops and glances over her shoulder. “I like Frankie,” she tells you, smiling wryly. “And I really hope he sticks around.” With that, she disappears upstairs.

Sighing heavily, your mom turns to you. “Don’t listen to her. She’s only fifteen, she doesn’t know any better. She doesn’t understand what happened—”

Pushing away from the table, you stand up. 

“I’m going to take a walk,” you murmur. “I need some fresh air.”

“Hermosa?”

You stir at the sound of Frankie’s voice.

“Baby. Hey. Wake up.”

“Mm?” you mumble sleepily. “Frankie, what are—ow!”

You groan when he switches on the lamp on the beside table. Rolling over, you bury your face into your pillow.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, chuckling softly. The twin sized mattress squeaks, dipping as he somehow squeezes himself beside you on your childhood bed. He’s staying in the guest room down the hallway—you parents, who were incredibly old school, had insisted the two of you sleep in separate bedrooms during your stay. Draping his arm around you, he leans down and nuzzles into the side of your face. Even with your nose buried in your pillow, you pick up the scent of sunscreen mingled with beer. “Just wanted to tell you I’m back home.”

Lifting your head, you blink furiously until your blurred vision stabilizes.

“What—what time is it?”

“Eleven.” Frankie’s cheeks and nose are red, sunburned from having been out on your dad’s boat all afternoon. You’re willing to bet he’d forgotten to put the sunscreen on his face. Even though you’d warned him a hundred times not to forget.

“What?” You sit up, prompting him to do the same. “It’s eleven and you only now just got back?”

“Your old man took me to Gordon’s,” Frankie explains, referring to one of the only few bars your small town had to offer. It was the place where you would meet with your old high school friends to catch up with each other whenever you were home visiting. At some point this week, you would be sitting in a booth at that old bar with them, introducing Frankie, and squirming when they began to tell him embarrassing stories of all those crazy nights from your senior year. “We went in with plans to have a couple beers before coming home, but then we ran into some of his buddies there. He introduced me, they bought us more drinks, and we played a game of pool. Your dad whooped my ass, of course.”

“How did fishing go?”

“Great. Y’know, once he stopped looking at me like he wanted to throw me overboard.”

You let out an amused huff. “He would never.”

“I don’t know. That man is pretty hard to read.” Frankie reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “One minute we’d be talking, shooting the shit while we waited for the fish to bite, and the next he would look at me like he was seriously thinking about pushing me off his boat and into the water.” He squeezes your hand, a deep laugh rumbling through his chest. “I spent all goddamn day with him and I still can’t tell if he likes me yet or not.”

Lifting his hand, you press a tender kiss to the back of it, a sweet token of affection.

“He likes you, Frankie,” you murmur against his skin. “I know it. My whole family likes you. Except my mom—”

He stiffens. “What?”

“She loves you.”

Frankie turns to you. Despite your smile, he can see the hint of concern in your eyes. “Baby, what’s the matter?”

You hesitate.

After what your sister had said earlier that evening, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d made a mistake and brought him home too soon. You and Frankie had been together for about six months now, and besides having a drawer of your things at his place for when you stayed overnight, you two hadn’t really sat down to talk about what the next step in your relationship would be—you and Frankie hadn’t discussed the possibility of a future together. Truth be told, you had never felt the need to question him about where this was heading. You’d been perfectly content in allowing things to unfold between you without putting any kind of pressure on yourself, or on him. At least, up until now, you had been content.

You’d been silly to think bringing Frankie home to meet your family wouldn’t be all that big of a deal, that it wouldn’t make you consider what came next. But you had forgotten how easily your mother falls in love, how quickly your little sister can form an attachment, and how your father, despite being rough around the edges, feels every heartache you go through as if it’s his own.

You think back to when your previous relationship went down in flames, you remember the helpless look on your father’s face whenever he would see you crying. “I never liked him,” he’d said, pouring himself a glass of whiskey over ice. But that had been a lie. He’d seen him as the son he never had. He lost something, too. Your whole family had to heal from that loss along with you.

Part of you is afraid that it could happen again.

“Amor?”

Frankie’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

You glance down at your hand in his. “Frankie, the last thing I want to do is scare you off,” you start to say, a nervous edge to your tone. “Or put any kind of pressure on you to give me anything more than what you have already given me. But now that you’ve met my family, I can’t help but worry a little bit.”

He frowns. “What are you worried about?”

Sighing, you confess, “My last relationship—it didn’t end very well, Frankie. My family loved him, adored him the way I can see they’re already starting to adore you. When he broke up with me, he broke more hearts than just mine.” You force yourself to look up, and meet his gaze with a wistful smile. “I guess there’s a part of me that’s scared it’ll happen again.”

Frankie’s dark brown eyes soften. “Oh baby, there’s no need to be scared. That’s never gonna happen.”

“How can you be so sure it’ll never happen?”

“Easy, because I love you. And I know you love me.” He reaches over with his free hand and he cups the side of your face, his thumb grazing over the soft skin of your cheekbone. “I’m in this for the long haul. I wouldn’t have driven sixteen hours across the country with you to come meet your family if I wasn’t. I’m serious about you—I’m serious about us, baby.”

Frankie leans in, gently pressing his mouth to yours in a chaste, but sweet kiss.

“Do you wanna know what I see when I look at you?” he mumbles against your lips.

“What do you see?”

“Mi futuro,” he tells you. “I see my future.”

Warmth blossoms in your chest. “You do?”

“I do. Believe me, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, and so is your family,” Frankie grins. “Your dad is gonna have plenty of opportunities to contemplate throwing me off his boat and into the lake.”

You giggle as he kisses you again before trailing his lips down to your neck. “Frankie,” you say his name warningly as he pushes you onto your back. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he says innocently, positioning himself on top of you. He plants his hands on either side of your head and dips his head, nipping lightly at the tender flesh over your pulse point. “How thin are these walls?”

“Francisco Morales, no, you are not fucking me in my parent’s house, not in my childhood bedroom—”

His bulge brushes against your thigh and you gasp.

“Guess I’ll head back to the guest room, then,” Frankie murmurs, feathering one last kiss onto your neck.

He starts to climb off of you and your hands shoot out, curling around fistfuls of his shirt to stop him.

“I can be quiet,” you whisper, biting your bottom lip. You take one of his hands and guide it underneath the hem of the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing to the apex of your thighs. “Can you?”

“Hermosa,” Frankie groans, running a finger along the damp cotton of your panties. He slips it beneath the fabric, his blood rushing south when he meets your slick folds. “God, I fucking hope so, or else I’ll actually end up at the bottom of that fucking lake.”

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

#fic: more hearts than mine #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #Frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales drabble #frankie morales fluff #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Heatwave | Frankie Morales x Reader Drabble.

You can't sleep with your furnace of a boyfriend smothering you, but you can't sleep without him either. Warnings: Mention of naked Frankie, implied both reader and Frankie sleep naked, just fluff based on my own sleep issues <3 Un-beta'd - wrote it mostly in bed this morning. 720~ Words

Your skin burns, hot and sticky as you feel the weight of another person draped over you. Most of the time you can just roll him off and strip the sheets off when the weather gets this extreme. But not tonight. Tonight, Frankie will not relinquish you from his catatonic embrace.  

Frankie groans softly as he spoons you. His thick fingers splayed across your stomach; broad chest fused to your sweat-slick back. One leg is draped over your hip and its almost blissful. Almost.

But you’re too fucking hot.

“Frankie, baby,” you whine as you try and wriggle from his grip, “Too hot.”

All that seems to elicit is a muffled “hmm” from him as he somehow pulls you in tighter. His scruff tickles your shoulder as he nuzzles his face behind your ear.

Great, now you’re too hot and you’re turned on. There’s no way you can sleep like this.

“Frankie,” you groan as you prise his arm off you, “Need to sleep. I’ve got that meeting with my boss in the morning.”

You know it’s falling on deaf ears, but it makes you feel better, convincing yourself more than him. You slip out from under him after a minute of wrestling his thick thigh from over you.

“Love you baby,” you say softly as you press a gentle kiss to his furrowed brow.

He stirs as he reaches for your now empty spot on the bed, and you can’t help but feel a little guilty. You love him so much, but you can’t sleep like this.

You make your way down the hall and into the spare room. You slip under the fresh sheets of the modest single bed. You think you’re settled, sheet covering your lower half – because lord knows even in a heatwave your feet get cold – and head resting lightly on the pillow.

Ten minutes tick by, then twenty. When you check your phone for the third time it’s only been twenty-five minutes, but you still can’t sleep. You haul yourself back out of bed, cursing the weather as you slip back into your bedroom.

The pale moonlight illuminates Frankie’s sleeping form as he lays on his back. He’s sprawled out in the middle of the mattress, bare to the humid night air where he’s kicked the sheets off in his sleep. You ease yourself back down onto the bed, crawling into the small space left as you hope Frankie will stay where he is.

Your head hits the pillow just as Frankie shifts back onto his side, a sleepy grunt falling from his lips as he reaches for you. His fingertips ghost your burning skin as he scoots closer.

“Frankie,” you groan as you turn to face him, “I need to sleep, please just roll over.”

“But I like holding you,” he protests sleepily as you see his eyes flutter open, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m too hot Frankie, I can’t sleep with you wrapped around me, it’s too much,” you admit with downturned eyes, teeth pinged into your bottom lip and embarrassment and shame curdle in your belly.

“Amor, I’m sorry,” Frankie says with a sigh as he reaches for you, but he stops himself, “I can sleep in the spare room if that helps?”

“No,” you say as you cup his scruffy jaw with both hands, “I tried that, doesn’t feel right without you in bed with me,” you explain as you scrape your fingers through his scruff.

“What can I do?” Frankie asks as he places his hands over your own.

“Stay with me like this?” You ask as you brush your feet against his, “Just touching a little?”

“I can do that, go to sleep mi sol, I love you.”

“I love you too Frankie,” you say with a yawn.

Eventually you both fall asleep, close to touch, but Frankie is sure to keep his distance. He wakes up sometime in the night, with you curled up against his chest, dead to the world. He smirks to himself as he nuzzles the top of your head. Some things never change, and no matter how hot you get, you always crawl right back into his arms. No matter how poorly you sleep.

“Sleep well, amor.”

He whispers against your scalp as his eyes flutter closed.  

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales #fanfic #frankie morales #francisco morales x reader #fluff #sleep issues #drabble #<800 words #800 words #fluffy drabble #x reader #reader insert #ppcu #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction

[avastrasposts]

Swimming lessons with Catfish

@secretelephanttattoo has taken on the role as my muse apparently and is feeding me inspiration on the daily.

So inspired by this ask, a shortish (2.2k) drabble with sweet and hot Frankie Morales. This one is set in an alternate, no-outbreak, universe of The Pilot and his Girl.

Couldn't find a suitable Frankie coded pic so I must again ask for your inspiration and suggestions! Thank you @secretelephanttattoo again for the perfect gif!

Smut below the cut, you have been warned (or notified if you will).

You hear the giggling as soon as you open the car door, the humid heat hitting your body with a vengeance after the air conditioned interior of the car. Lucía is squealing loudly from your back yard and you follow the sound through the house, dropping your laptop bag on the kitchen counter. Through the sliding doors in the back you see the glitter of the blue pool and Frankie’s tanned back in the shallow end. He’s got Lucía in front of him, holding her gently around the middle as she lies flat on her belly in the water, diligently working her way through unsteady breast strokes. 

“Muy bien, princesa,” he praises her as he almost lets go of her and she glides through the water. 

You hang back, leaning on the door frame, watching Frankie patiently help his little girl take stroke after stroke, reminding her to keep her fingers closed and flat. His cap and shirt lay discarded in one of the sun loungers, Lucía’s dress on the ground just by the pool. She must’ve been wearing her swimsuit under it, she’d been so excited about learning to swim ever since you’d bought the house and now every day after school she demanded swimming lessons. 

Frankie turns around in the pool, helping Lucía flip over to swim the other way and spots you. 

“Cariño,” his eyes crinkling at the corners as he shields his eyes against the sun and smiles up at you, “get out of those boring office clothes and jump in the pool with us.” 

“Look, look!” Lucia shouts excitedly, “I can swim by myself now!” She launches herself from Frankie’s arms before he has a chance to react, and takes two successful strokes before she starts sinking, coughing water, Frankie quickly catching her and pulling her up to the surface. 

“Careful, gordita, you need to be a bit more careful,” he gently scolds her, holding her up as she coughs, “Maybe that’s enough swimming for today?” 

“No, I want to swim more!” she protests, wrapping her arms around her dad, “Please, papá…” she looks at him under her eye lashes, her big brown eyes, so like Frankie’s, leaving him helpless. 

“Fine, a little bit more then,” he smiles and you laugh. You’ve been on the receiving end of Frankie’s puppy eyes more than once, it’s nice to see that he’s just as powerless to resist when it’s his daughter wielding them. 

“I’ll start dinner, Frankie,” you say, “maybe we can….later…” you say, giving him a wink that makes his dimple break out as he smiles back at you with a mischievous grin. 

It’s a good thing swimming is tiring work you think as you load the dishwasher after dinner. Frankie had come back in with Lucía after you called out to them that dinner was ready, sending her to the bathroom to change into her fluffy bathrobe, a special allowance since she would have to take a bath after dinner. While she was in her room he’d come up behind you at the counter where you were busy spooning spaghetti alfredo into bowls. 

“What plans did you have for later, mi hermosa,” he muttered, slipping his warm hands around your waist, snaking one hand up under the t-shirt, his t-shirt, you’d changed into before you started cooking. 

“I don’t know, maybe answer some emails, do the taxes, fold some laundry,” you say casually, pretending to ignore how his thick fingers caresses one of your breasts, circling the nipple. With a growl he pinches it between his thumb and finger, making you gasp as the sensation shoots liquid heat through your body. 

“I have other plans for you,” he mumbles, his mouth just under your ear, before he sinks his teeth into that sensitive spot, beginning to suck a mark into your soft skin. The sound of Lucìa’s bare feet padding down the hallway makes him pull away, moving to grab the salad and put it on the table. 

With dinner done, he takes Lucía to the bathroom for her evening bath, followed by a bedtime story. Once you’ve got the kitchen clean you slip into the bedroom you share with Frankie and change into one of your bikinis, not your favorite one, but Frankie’s favorite. You think it’s annoying because it doesn’t let you jump or dive in the water without flashing your tits and ass to the world. Frankie, on the other hand, loves it. He loves the thin ribbons on either side of the bikini bottoms that untie with just one simple pull, unless you double knot them, which you always do, or the way he can sneak his hands around your neck and with one gentle tug untie the ribbon that keeps the top attached, letting your breasts spill free for his big hands to grab. 

You don’t double knot the ribbons tonight, instead you slip out through the glass doors and into the pool. The water is warm after being heated by the sun all day, and glitters faintly in the light of the porch lights you’ve strung up around the back. You lie back and float easily in the water, looking up through the trees at the pale sky, slowly darkening into midnight blue. 

The gentle splash of Frankie getting into the pool pulls you out of your daydreaming, but you don’t look up. You know he’ll come to you, and soon his warm hand slips along your right side, up into your hair as he gently pulls you through the water to the pool’s edge. His lips brush over your forehead, pressing a kiss to your damp skin. 

“Stand up, cariño,” he whispers and you obey, your feet finding the bottom of the pool as he turns you towards him.  

“She’s asleep,” he says, his voice low, “went out like a light after half the story, but I think the neighbors are still awake so keep your voice down, cariño.” 

“Why, what do you have in mind, mr. Morales?” you smile, his dark eyes and roaming hands are making it very clear what he’s up to but you like to hear him say it. 

“Swimming lessons with Catfish,” he smirks, making you snort loudly and he chuckles as you quickly hide your face against his neck, shaking with repressed laughter. 

“Potentially the worst porno title ever,” you whisper once you’ve regained your composure. 

“I don’t know,” Frankie says, his mischievous grin slipping into something more sinful, “it has potential.” He dips his mouth to your collarbone and lets his tongue taste the salt and pool water that’s hanging on to the skin. You tilt your head and sigh, letting one hand find its way into his still damp curls, the other resting on his bicep, feeling the muscle flex under your palm. Frankie’s hand is unsurprisingly finding its way to your neck, pushing your wet hair out of the way and grabbing the ribbon of your bikini top. You feel it slip across your skin as he tugs, the wet fabric catching on your hard nipples. 

“Fuck…” Frankie growls, “I fucking love this bikini,” his hands following the ribbon down to pull it free from your skin and grabbing each one of your breasts in his big hands, the thumbs rubbing over the nipples as he watches the skin pebble and tighten under his ministrations. One hand drops from you and is replaced by his warm mouth, hot against your cool skin as he sucks the nipple firmly, laving his tongue over it with strong strokes. It makes you tilt your head back, drawing in a deep breath and cupping the back of his head with your hand. 

“Frankie…” you mumble, sighing into the warm night air. He hums against your skin and and both hands slip further, into the water and grabbing at your hips, finding the ribbons at the sides, with sharp tugs he pulls at them and chuckles approvingly when they slip out straight away. 

“You didn’t double knot them, cariño,” he smiles, his mouth leaving your nipple so that he can look at you, his eyes half closed and black in the dim light. 

“Knew you’d want easy access,” you smile back, pulling him close so that you can kiss him, making him open his mouth to your tongue, which he willingly does. He tastes like pool water and the coke he had for dinner, soft lips and warm breath against you as his hands pull your bikini bottoms away, letting them float off somewhere in the pool. 

It’s not until his hands pull you flush against his hard erection that you realize that he doesn't have any swim shorts on, just naked, hot skin pressed up against you in the water. He’s grinding himself against you, pulling your legs apart a little so that he slips between your plush thighs and rubs his hard length against your clit. It makes you moan into his mouth, his fingers gripping your hips, rutting against you as he breathes heavily into your mouth, barely contained moans slipping from him. 

“You feel so good, bebita, so fucking good even in the water,” he mumbles, thrusting harder between your thighs. 

“Frankie, please,” you moan, tangling your fingers tighter into his curls, “fuck me…I..I need you inside me, please.” 

You spread your legs, letting him slip out from between your thighs and he gives an unhappy hiss at the loss of contact. But you quickly hook your legs around his waist, the water making you almost weightless, and he turns you both around, pushing you up against the edge of the pool. With a firm grip around the base of his cock you guide the blunt head against your opening, made slick both by the pool and your arousal. Frankie locks eyes with you, one big hand around the back of your neck, as he slowly pushes in, making you keen under the sweet sting as he stretches your tight entrance. His mouth is open, tongue resting on his bottom lip, you watch him quickly lick it before he bites down, grunting as he drives his thick cock deeper inside. 

“Mierda..” he pants, glancing down at where his length is disappearing into you, made blurry by the water, “so fucking good…” 

You tilt your head back, Frankie’s hand holding you steady as you close your eyes and relish the burn in your core, the pulsating feeling in your spine. Frankie bends his head to your neck, his teeth biting down, hard, on the soft skin, the pleasure from the nip shoots through you and makes you clench around his heavy cock, nestled deep inside. He hisses and begins to move, one hand on your hip, the other still cradling your neck. 

The water sloshes around you, splashing against the edge of the pool as he drives himself deeper, groaning against your throat. You have to grip on to his shoulders to ground yourself, the slip and slide of the coarse hairs at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit with every thrust of hips. Biting your lips hard, you breathe through your nose, trying to stop yourself from crying out. Frankie’s low grumbles, throaty groans, float through the still night air, he’s trying, but can’t hold it back. 

“Baby, I’m not gonna last,” he mutters, moving up to watch your face contort with every thrust of his cock, “Look at me, please, hermosa, I wanna watch when you come, so fucking beautiful every time.” 

You blink open your eyes with a heavy effort, Frankie pushing your head up so that his dark eyes can stare into yours. 

“You feel so fucking good, when you come around my fat cock,” he growls, slamming his hips into your harder, as much as the water will let him. It’s splashing over the edge, covering your both as he chases his high, holding on to let you get to yours first. 

“C’mon, cariño, be good to me, let me feel you come, you take me so fucking well, so tight for me, so slick, so fucking tight,” he moves his hand from your hip, finding the aching bundle of nerves between your legs and finds that perfect rhythm, a tiny bit more pressure that has you gasping as squeeze your eyes shut. 

“That’s it, baby, that’s it, c’mon, let me feel it,” he moans, holding on against his own climax as he works you through it, sealing your mouth with his own when your cries threaten to grow loud. You cry out into his mouth, wailing as his thick cock coaxes every last ounce out of you.

As you begin to come down he digs his fingers into your hips and grinds into you, your spasming pussy milking him dry with every thrust as he fills you up with his spend. You can hear him groan under his breath, low grumbles and heavy panting, a long exhale as he finally slows, his forehead against your shoulder now. 

“Fuck…” he mutters, you can feel his lips move against your skin, “I just realized this means I need to clean the pool before tomorrow.” 

You bite your lip, trying to stop the laughter but your body shakes and betrays you.

“For what it’s worth, Frankie, it was totally worth it,” you giggle, running your fingers through his hair as he pulls out of you with a hiss.

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one who cleans the pool.” 

Also tagging @ladybess-a03 @harriedandharassed @your-slutty-gf @rhoorl @casa-boiardi @trulybetty because I think you might like it 🥰🥰

#frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales smut #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales drabble

[thetriumphantpanda]

Drabble/One shot request!

I read it and instantly saw this as Frankie smut scenario…

“you don’t have to be gentle. i won’t break”.

Frankie’s first time with a new lady friend. He really likes her, so he’s being softer than usual, gentle. She really likes him too but can tell there’s a darker side to him under the surface and she wants to test the waters…

ANON YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG I'VE BEEN SITTING ON THIS... I love this request so thank you so much for sending it in! I hope you like it and that I did your idea justice.

Pairing | Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count | 2.3K

Warnings | Unprotected PiV sex, fingering, spanking and biting but nothing else I can think of apart from puppy dog Frankie.

ENJOY ALL.

Frankie was nervous, there was no beating around the bush with that one. He’d changed his shirt twice and had needed to comb his hair more times than he’d care to admit because he couldn’t stop fussing with it. Never had this problem wearing a hat, but Benny had told him that if he’d turned up to your house wearing a baseball cap it would be lights out for his chances with you. 

He was early, so he’d been sat in his truck a few doors down so you hadn’t noticed he was early, glancing at his watch, willing the time to move faster so he could knock on your door and see you again. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d liked someone as much as you. He’d seen you at the bar and if it hadn’t been for Benny and his insistence that he walk up and ask for your number he wouldn’t be here. You’d been casually dating for a few months; he would take you out on walks and he knew he’d fallen for you when he’d taken you to the diner in town after a heavy night of drinking with his friends and watched you demolish a bacon cheeseburger and a peanut butter milkshake without worrying about what he would think of the sauce on your face. 

You’d invited him to your place for the first time, coaxing him with the promise of dinner and cold beer, he’d seen in your eyes that there was promise of something else too which was the reason he was so nervous. He couldn’t remember that last time he’d touched a woman, at least not one he liked as much as you. 

He rang the bell at 6:58, thinking that was as close to 7pm that he could be before he talked himself out of it. You opened the door with an apron wrapped around your body, covered in all sorts of ingredients, he could make out flour, tomato and what looked like gravy spattered amongst other things he couldn’t place. 

“Hello.” You were breathless and your hair was falling out of the low bun at the back of your head to frame your face. 

“Hello,” Frankie replied, dipping to press a kiss to your lips as casually as he could muster, “You’ve got a little something right here.” He reached out and dragged his thumb across your cheek, pulling his fingers to your eyeline to show you the flour he’d wiped off. 

“If that’s all that’s on my face I’ve done a good job, you should see the state of the kitchen,” You laughed, moving to let him into your home, “It looks like a literal bombsite so I apologise.” 

“No need to apologise when it smells so good,” He countered, mouth already watering at the smells that were emanating from the kitchen, “What did you make?” 

“Lasagna,” You grinned, “And apple pie for dessert.” 

He let out a groan, letting his stomach do the talking for him, “You have no idea how good this sounds.”  “Sit down then, it’s almost ready.” 

***

Dinner was long forgotten, leftovers packaged up and put away with the dishes and pans soaking in the sink. You had a glass of wine in hand and were lounging on the couch, legs draped across Frankie’s lap as he sipped on a beer, absentmindedly running his fingers along the skin of your legs, causing goosebumps to raise on your skin. 

“Are you cold?” He asked, turning to you. 

“No,” You smirked, “Just excited.” 

“Oh yeah?” He smirks back, raising an eyebrow right back at you, “What do you have to be excited about?” 

You giggled, “I’ve just been sat here thinking about how badly I want you to kiss me.” 

“Well then…” He trailed off, setting his beer on the coffee table as you did the same, settling back into your lounging position. 

He moved swiftly, settling himself between your legs before he crashed his lips to yours. You’d kissed this man many times before, the first time after he’d bought you a few drinks at the bar and then later that night when he’d driven you home and pressed you up against your front door. Then there was the time on the beach after your second date where you’d ended up rolling in the sand together for what felt like hours. This time though there was something different, the heat of knowing what was coming was settling in your bones just as much as it was in Frankie’s, and it was thrilling. 

The man was kissing you like he was starved, flicking his tongue into your mouth to entwine with your own and you could taste the beer on his mouth, mixed with the gum he’d popped after dinner along with someone else that was only him. It was intoxicating and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down flush with your body whilst grinding your hips up into him. 

He dragged his lips from yours and worked them down over your jaw, peppering your skin with barely-there brushes of his mouth. His tongue would lick at the spot on your neck where he would suck gently, you found yourself silently begging he would do it harder so to mark you. You wanted everyone to know you belonged to this man, but his kisses remained feather light as he dragged them further down to your collarbones as his hands ran up the bare skin of your side under your shirt. 

“Frankie,” You mumbled, “Take me to bed.” 

He pulled back, sitting back on his knees to look at you. His skin was flushed in much the same way you thought yours was, heat prickling over his face and his hair was sticking up in curls where you’d run your hands through it. 

“Up the stairs, first door on the left.” 

He stood, scooping you up, one arm under your knees and the other wrapped around the small of your back as your wrapped securely around his neck to keep you upright. He followed your directions and within moments you were led on your back on your bed with him settled right back between your thighs with his lips on yours. 

Frankie’s hands worked up your shirt and you sat up lightly to let him drag it off your body, reveling in the way he stared at you when you led back down like someone viewing the most beautiful piece of art they’d ever seen. 

“God, you’re beautiful.” He mumbled from his lips as they dragged a path down your neck, peppering kisses along the swell of your breast where your bra was sat. 

He slowly dragged the straps down before expertly moving his hands behind your back to undo it and throw it to the floor. His lips were around your nipple before you knew what was happening, eliciting a groan from your mouth and his hand gave attention to the other. He swapped over a few times, which his mouths attention with his hands before he was trailing his mouth down your stomach to the waistband of your skirt. He dragged it off with his hands, stopping to shed himself of his own upper layers before settling his body on the bed next to you. 

His arm slipped under your head to prop himself up over you, the other hand heading straight for the lace covering your pussy, which by this time was screaming for its own attention. He placed a kiss to your lips as his fingers ghosted across your panties, pulling away for you to see the dark heat in his eyes as he realized they were wet. So, there was something else underneath the gentle kisses, you thought to yourself as you winked at him. 

“See how worked up you get me?” You breathed, letting your hand fall to his jeans where it was clear this was working him up just as much as you. 

“Hermosa,” He groaned as you rubbed him through his jeans, “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this.” 

You pulled him back to your mouth to kiss him, opening your mouth up to him as he licked into your mouth, all whilst dipping his hand under your panties. The touch of his fingers on your clit, even if was momentary, was electric. Your hips bucked up into his hand as your mouth left his in favour of a moan. His fingers travelled down to your slick entrance, gathering the wetness that was pooling and then dragging it back up to your clit where he began rubbing gentle circles around it. 

You thought you were going to fall apart immediately, especially when his lips began pressing behind your ear, his groans of approval at your arousal sending shockwaves down your spine and making goosebumps appear on your skin. 

“Frankie please,” You moaned, “I need you inside of me.” 

You could feel his smirk against your skin as he moved back between your thighs, making a show of unzipping his jeans and taking them off and then he was there in front of you in all his glory. Scars from his time in the forces scattered his body and the softness of his older age was apparent around his middle, but you didn’t care. You just wanted him to make you his. He gently moved your panties down your legs, throwing them into the pile on the floor before spreading your legs, using one of his hands to jerk his own cock as his other went back to rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb. 

“You ready for me, querida?” He asked, moving slightly to line his cock to your weeping pussy. 

“Please,” You begged, “I have never wanted something so much in all my time.” 

He smiled, settling one hand on the bed next to your head as the other helped his cock to slip inside of you. The stretch of your pussy was delightful, you’d never had someone this big before, but the wetness seeping from you made it easy for him to slip all the way inside. The look of ecstasy on his face was enough to make your tummy flutter. You were doing that to him. 

He started thrusting into you, his movements slow and gentle but you wanted more, and you knew he could give you more. You let him continue like this for a moment, your hands squeezing the muscles of his biceps as he moved into you slowly. 

“Frankie,” You moaned, his eyes snapping up from looking at his cock slipping inside you to look you in the eye, “You don’t have to be gentle; I won’t break.”

It was like something snapped inside of him at your words. His chest was heaving and that darkness that had flashed in his eyes earlier was back, along with a grin across his lips. Like you weight nothing at all, you were flipped onto your front, his hands pulling you back towards him by your hips. He was back inside you in seconds and the change of position was perfection. 

He was fucking into you now, the slow and gentle thrusts from earlier were gone, instead replaced by a bruising pace of his hips snapping against your ass. You let out a surprised squeal when one of his hands came down and spanked you. 

“You liked that didn’t you?” He asked, his words coming out breathlessly, “Felt your pussy clench around me, hermosa.” 

“Do it again.” You ordered, slipping one of your hands between your legs to finger at your own clit. 

He did it again, bringing his hand down to your other cheek before using his fingers to massage the spot, god you hoped you bruised in the morning. 

“I’m not… I can’t… fuck, querida I’m close.” He admitted. 

“Lean over me,” You asked, “Put your skin on me and bite my neck, Frankie.” 

Like the diligent lover he had proved himself to be he did what you asked, laying his front over your back whilst still managing to keep his cock buried inside you, slipping in and out with that delicious friction you knew you would be addicted to from this day forward. He latched his mouth on your neck, sucking hard and the pain, the feeling of his breath on your skin, his cock pumping in and out of you and your fingers rubbing at your clit all came together at once to release the white heat of your climax. You were crying out his name and clenching your pussy around him and he was licking at the mark he’d left on your neck. 

“Fucking hell,” He breathed into your ear, “Querida I’m going to cum, where do you want me?” He asked with a sense of urgency. 

“Fuck Frankie,” You cried out, “Inside me please, god I need to feel you cum inside me.” 

Within seconds he was doing just that, stilling himself as his spilled his seed deep into your pussy with a groan of your name into your ear. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he pulled out of you, the last bit of support keeping you upright was gone, allowing you to collapse face first into the mattress. He collapsed next to you, pulling you into his body, the two of you slick with sweat but without a care in the world. 

“I have to get up and clean myself.” You mumbled into his chest. 

“In a minute, let me have this moment for now.” 

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his neck, “If I get a UTI it’s entirely your fault, Morales.” 

He chuckled back but made no effort to let you go, “Was that… okay?” He asked quietly, his fingers running light circles over the skin of your shoulder. 

You looked up at him, using one of your hands to pull his face to your lips to kiss him, “Frankie, it was the best I’ve ever had.” You replied honestly. 

“I didn’t hurt you?” 

“You didn’t hurt me, besides, if you did, I asked for it,” You planted another soft kiss to his lips, “You could never hurt me.” 

#Frankie Morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #Pedro pascal #Frankie Morales smut #Frankie Morales fic #Frankie Morales fan fic #Frankie Morales x you #Frankie Morales x reader #Frankie Morales x female reader #frankie morales x f!reader #panda writes promps #FM drabble

[frannyzooey]

Weeknights Drabble

Frankie Morales x f!reader, Weeknights Universe

Rating: Explicit AF

Summary: Valentine's Day in the Morales household ❤

Happy Valentine's Day, my loves! ❤️

--

“Dad?”

“Yea, baby.” Frankie’s eyes narrow at the red construction paper in his hand, his movements deliberate as he carefully cuts out a heart.

“I’m gonna draw a dog on this one, I think. For the teacher. Because she’s always asking about her, you know?” 

Lucia’s body rocks as she swings her feet under the table, her crayons a colorful scatter across the kitchen table and she leans forward, her look of concentration a direct mirror of her dad’s. 

Their darkly curled heads bent in task, you smile at the image and then scrape the rest of the bananas from the jar of baby food in your hand, feeding it to your son. He spits most of them out in his enthusiasm for more, before giving you a gummy smile. 

“Does she always ask about her, or are you always talking about her?” Frankie asks Lucia, placing another heart by her hand and when he catches you looking at him, he winks.

Lucia ignores his teasing, and he nudges his chin in the direction of the high chair, taking in the sloppy bib. “Seems like he got a little more in his mouth this time, huh?”

“Just a little,” you smile, reaching for the rag next to you. 

“Mom?” Lucia asks, scrawling her name across the bottom of one of the paper hearts. “Can I make one of these for brother?”

“Oh, that would be so nice, baby. He’d love that,” you reply, standing to pull him from the chair. “Just don’t give it to him though. He’ll eat it.”

“He really would,” Frankie says, getting up himself to come take the baby from you. He gives him a kiss on the cheek, uncaring about the smear of food across it. “Oh, yum. Banana.”

He gives him another kiss, low murmurs of Spanish endearments spoken into his small ear and then he shifts him to a one armed hold, one you love because it affords a good look at the taut muscle of his forearm when he does it.

He leans in to give you a peck on the cheek; the baby between you. “Why don’t you go take a shower, baby. I got it.”

He smiles down at you, the crinkles surrounding his eyes soft with affection and you lean in for a wordless request for another kiss, one that he grants you. The baby pulls at your hair, and you smile against Frankie’s lips. One, then another; the baby cooing.

Bending down, you place your hands on Lucia’s head and tip it back just enough for you to place a kiss on her forehead. “Goodnight you. Don’t forget to brush your teeth, okay? I’ll see you in the morning for school.”

She waves you away, another Valentine created and carefully set aside and you leave them in the kitchen, disappearing down the hallway. 

–

“They go to bed okay?” you ask, padding into the bedroom, cinching the belt of your dark green robe. 

“Yea,” Frankie answers, shifting to sit up in bed. He tugs at the band of his watch, sliding it off his wrist before reaching to set it on the bedside table and you take a moment to admire what he’s wearing: one of his worn t-shirts and briefs, his leanly muscled legs long and relaxed against the mattress.

You crawl up on the bed to join him, curling into his side. 

“You smell nice.” He leans in, letting his lips rest in the dip below your ear and his nose nuzzles the fine hair behind it before he places a kiss to your shower warmed skin. You hear him inhale, his lips finding purchase again and when you feel the tip of his tongue touch your skin, you sigh, letting your head tip back. 

He turns to face you, his mouth opening wider and drunk on his open mouthed kisses, you hum in contentment, your eyes closed. “You want your present today, or tomorrow?”

He pulls back, his eyebrows raised. “You got me something?” His expression slips into an apologetic wince. “Shit baby, I didn’t think we would be exchanging anything. I didn’t –”

You shake your head, stopping him. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I know it’s been busy with the –”

You stop talking, Frankie’s arm slipping behind his back to fish for something under the pillow and he grins, sliding an envelope out. You tilt your head, biting your lip with a smile and give him a gentle shove on his shoulder, making him laugh. 

“Francisco Morales,” you scold him and he grins, leaning in with a teasing sound. 

“Say it again, baby. You know I love when you say the full name.”

You know exactly the kind of reaction you can draw out of him when you do it, and a mental image flashes through your mind, along with his pleading, breathless voice. You raise an eyebrow at him with a smirk, and he places the envelope in your hand. 

Opening it, It’s a spa certificate, from the place you normally go when you want to feel pretty for him after endless weeks in leggings with the kids and you thank him, leaning forward for a kiss. 

“I love it,” you say, placing it on the bedside table. “I feel like my gift is kinda lame compared to yours, though.”

He makes a skeptical face at your statement and you move to crawl into his lap, sitting down on the top of his thighs. Your fingers brush back his curls, the grey threaded with the brown highlighted in the dim warmth of the bedside lamp and his hands settle on your hips as he looks up at you. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s fine.”

Aged since you met him, but in a way that’s only made him look more handsome, his eyes almost black in their thick lashed depths, save for the rich, deep brown that reflects in the light of the lamp and you trace the hollow of his throat, your thumb resting there for a moment before drifting down to catch on the neckline of his t-shirt.

Your hand splays across the fabric, the heat of his firm chest leaching through. He’s so broad, so strong and solid, the cotton of his shirt fitting so nicely around the rounds of his shoulders and you’re lost in your open admiration when he pulls you from your daze when he speaks.

“Well? You gonna give it to me?”

You meet his gaze, holding it when your fingers move to untie the knot of your robe and parting the fabric slowly, his eyes drop to watch.

He doesn’t say anything as you open it, letting it fall from your shoulders and onto the bed, but his eyes - his eyes tell you exactly how he feels about it. 

“Jesus, baby.” His voice is low, husky, thick with arousal as it gets caught in the back of his throat and his hand comes up and hovers, as if you’re too pretty to touch. Silk wrapped and see through in all the places he loves best, he takes it all in with a swallow, eventually dragging his eyes back up to your face. 

His hand finally settles: a broad splay across your chest, gliding down the plane of it before it moves worshipfully over to your breast. His thumb glides across the nipple, watching as it buds under the silk and you let out a heavy, slow breath - one that makes him sit up straighter. 

“I can’t believe how fucking good you look.” His hands move with more confidence now, curving over your sides and sliding down to map the globes of your ass and then he’s tugging you forward into him, forcing you in for a kiss. 

It’s a hungry one, his mouth already so eager to taste and you thread your fingers through his curls, pulling him closer as you slide your tongue against his. He groans into it to match your soft moan, his arm banding across the middle of your back as he shifts to force you backwards and down onto the bed and soon you’re spread out on the mattress, laid out beneath him.

“I can’t believe this is my present, baby,” he breathes between kisses, his mouth dragging along the curve of your bare shoulder, his lips brushing aside the thin strap that rests over your collarbone.

He keeps going, placing his mouth over the silk covering your nipple, breathing hot and dampening the fabric. He nips at it, giving it a suck. His hand slips under the hem, pushing it up over your hips and when he finds you bare underneath, he groans. 

“Take your shirt off,” you ask him, knowing what he is about to do and he complies, tugging it over his head.

His curls are a mussed halo, his cheeks flushed as he kisses a path down your body and when he hooks his arms under your thighs to tug you swiftly closer to him, you let out a breathless laugh - one that slides into a moan when he drops into position between your legs, his mouth immediately seeking you out. 

“Frankie,” you whine, your thighs opening wider for his shoulders and the groan of savor that he lets out reverberates into your slick core, adding to the skillful glide of his tongue.

You look down, admiring the dip and flex of his back muscles as he delves his tongue deeper inside you and then his eyes are on yours, looking up from his place between your thighs. His hand reaches up, palming your breast and you place yours over it, squeezing. 

The soft frown of concentration between his brows makes you wetter, your hips beginning a gentle roll against his open, worshiping mouth and then his hand is leaving yours, reaching beneath him to slip two fingers into you. 

“Goddamn, your pussy is so tight,” he praises over your moan, his mustache and beard already darkened with dampness. “It tastes so good, I could eat it all night.”

He goes back for more, his tongue swiftly gliding over your clit as his fingers push in down the knuckle and then he’s fucking you with them, sucking a release from you as he rubs it out from within. 

You cry out louder than you should when he adds a third finger, and inching them in, his eyes are fixed on the way you stretch around him, his fingers glistening.

“Always gotta work my baby open. Gotta get you ready to take me, huh?”

You nod, his fingers slipping in and out in their confident stroke, and when his tongue laves a wide, firm stripe up the seam of you, he can feel you start to pull him deeper, fluttering around him. 

“You wanna come like this?” he asks, his bicep flexing as his hand moves. “You wanna come on my hand, or on my cock?”

“Your –,” you can’t get the words out in time, his mouth descending again and before you can answer him, he’s slipped his fingers from you in order to hold you tight against his mouth; his damp fingers smearing against your skin in his tight hold.

He doesn’t let up, his tongue working you exactly the way he knows you like and forgetting everything else but the slick warmth of his mouth and the scratch of his beard, you start to fuck his face. 

“Make me come, Frankie. Make me come.” It’s a breathless chant, one that starts out and then slips into a heavy pant when you get closer and when you finally come into his mouth, he groans just as loud as you.

He’s not done, his damp hand catching on the fine silk as he guides you into place on all fours and you’re still buzzing from the aftershocks of your release when he shoves his briefs down to line himself up with your entrance, his hips pushing forward just as you rock back. 

“Goddamnit, baby,” he groans, shoving the hem of the silk nighty up to wrap his hands around your bare hips as he buries himself inside. His hands fit your waist perfectly, so broad his thumbs almost touch across your back and he’s mesmerized by the bounce of your ass with every pound of his hips against your skin, the sound of it filthy in the low lit room. 

Your fingers curl into the bedding for purchase, your face dropping down to hide in the comforter to muffle your sounds, but he doesn’t want that, and so he clamps his hand over your shoulder and pulls you up and back, sitting in his lap. 

“Fuck,” you cry out at the change in position, slight discomfort pulling at your features with how deep he is and knowing just how much he is to take, his fingers seek out your clit, rubbing tight circles over it until you relax around him. 

“That’s it, baby, that’s it,” he praises, his tongue dragging along the shell of your ear. “Take it for me, okay? I know you can.”

You start to move on his lap, grinding yourself backwards on his cock as he guides your movements with his other hand and he can’t stop it from roving, touching every piece of your body through the silk that he can reach. 

“You look so fucking good for me like this,” he groans, his hips meeting your every glide down. The curve of his nose rests between your shoulder blades, his mouth warm and delicate on your skin. “So fucking good. Gonna make me fill this pussy up. That what you want?”

“You know I do,” you gasp, working your fingers with his. “That’s all I want. For you to fuck me.”

“What do you want me to fuck you with?” It’s a prompt, one he gives before nipping your shoulder, biting the firm round before soothing it with a kiss. Your hips move faster on top of his, the bright edge of another release creeping up on you. 

“I want –” you pant, biting your lip.

He feels so good, so filling, so full and thick, no room for anything else inside your brain with how he’s moving his hips behind you and his hand against you. You clench around him, your spine curving to rest your head against his shoulder so he can see your face. “I want – I want it harder. I want –”

He doesn’t let you finish, pushing you from his lap back to all fours and then he is pounding into you; one hand digging into your hip to keep you in place, and the other splayed over your back to keep your upper body down.

The angle is consuming, devastating, all coherent thought gone.

He growls behind you, keeping pace. “Say it, baby. Say it. I wanna hear it.”

“Fuck me, Fransisco,” you moan, the words twisting into a sob and he groans loudly at your use of his full name. “Fuck me with your big cock. Please. Please.”

You come around him just as he starts to come, your pleading words tipping him over the edge and the two of you are locked in position for a moment; spurts of him spilling into you, filling you full. He pulls his hips back, just enough to see the glistening mess and he groans, pushing wetly back in again.

You’re still trembling when he drops to the mattress and gathers you in his arms, his own heart thundering when he pulls you in for a kiss. 

“Jesus,” you sigh, smiling. “I guess I should buy you presents more often.”

He hums a laugh, closing his eyes. “Yes, please.”

Letting him catch his breath, you lay there for a moment and run your hands over the planes of his body. The curve of his ribs, the solid width of this chest, the soft give of his belly. He’s tucked himself away in his briefs, the front of the black fabric dark and damp, and you trail your touch down over his hip, dragging your nails along the top of his thigh.

You bring them back up, your fingers lingering on the trail of hair beneath his belly button and he hums sleepily: sated, tired, splayed out on the bed.

You prop yourself up on one elbow, continuing your exploration. “I’m glad you liked it,” you say lowly, bending to place a kiss just above his nipple and he’s half asleep already, acknowledging you with another hum.

You smile down at him, your hand making a slow, but deliberate path down to the front of his briefs. You trace him through the fabric, finding the thick tip of his cock and when it twitches under your touch, he let out a soft sigh, one of encouragement. 

“Would now be a good time to tell you I bought more than one?” You breathe the words into his ear, your lips trailing along the curve of his whiskered jaw and you feel it against your mouth when he slowly smiles.

He rolls to face you, gathering you in his arms to settle between your legs and when he’s in place, the solid weight of him presses you into the mattress.

Your arms winding around his shoulders, he bends to give you a kiss, but then stops himself and pulls back; the smile of a happy man. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

#weeknights drabble #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales/you #frankie morales/reader

[penvisions]

once more with feeling {frankie drabble}

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: flirting with a stranger, language, kissing, suggestive language

A/N: this was a fun little drabble for the fic title prompt game submitted by the lovely @burntheedges

drabble masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

It started off as a chance encounter at the convenience store. Picking up a prescription and a bag of sour gummy candies. But of course your wallet hadn’t been inside the chaos of your purse. The cards hadn’t been rattling around amid the pens, gum wrappers, scraps of paper with lists, or the lighter that had somehow ended up in there either.

“Shit.”

The cashier rolls her eyes, popping a large bubble she had just blown out from the wad of gum in her mouth. An arched brow her silent judgement.

“I don’t have my wallet.”

“Okay.” She begins to slid the items away before a figure closed in on your right side.

“I’ll cover it,” A deep voice rumbled and you turned to meet a pair of startlingly wide brown eyes. They were set in the face of a handsome man. Your own roved over him, from the patchy scruff lining his jaw, the plush set of lips set under a thick moustache, the curls tamped down and curling around a cap tight over his head, the aviators slung in the collar of his grey t-shirt. But what really stole your breath away was the toothy grin he was flashing at you as he set down the items in his arms and reached to retrieve his worn wallet from a back pocket. “Gummies are an essential, can’t let ya go without them.”

Another bubble popping startled you, making you realize you hadn’t said anything in response. With a chuckle the man was gently corralling you away from the debit machine, a card between his thick fingers. He swiped it, nodding his head to the cashier as she held out two different plastic bags for the man to take.

“Thank you, that was very kind of you-“

“Fransisco, but Frankie is just fine.” He held out a hand, the bag with your items in it. You took it as you walked along side him out the sliding doors. You offered your name along with a thankful smile. All too aware of the large hoodie you had thrown on over a pair of shorts in your rush out the door. You only lived across the street, but of course you would run into a stunning man on your put off and then rushed errand.

“No problem at all.” He didn’t move toward the parking lot and neither did you, both rooted close enough to catch the scent of each other’s perfume and cologne. You could feel his eyes watch you as you tore into the bag of gummies, twin cherries. You held the open bag out to him as you brough one up to your lips. He smirked as he brought one to his own mouth.

“Cherries, that your thing? Cause you smell like ‘em and I bet you taste like ‘em too, now.” An eyebrow raised, though it was anything but a judgment like it had been on the cashier’s face. It was a flirty challenge and you couldn’t help the pull of your lips to match his energy.

“I dunno, why don’t you find out?” You swallowed, the candy sweet on your tongue and tangy. Your breath hitched, betraying your nerves as he reached a hand out to gently hold the back of your head and pull you toward him. His lips were plush against yours, so soft and faintly flavored from the candy. He didn’t try to push it past a chaste connection, pulling back after a few seconds.

“Mmm, seems like I need to do a little more research.”

“Seems like you do.” The flimsy handles of the bag slid down to the crook of your elbow as you reached up to cup his face. Leaning in, you kisses him with more intention. Allowing for him to lick into your mouth, licking the flavor from you as if he was starving and it was hist first taste of food in a long while.

You hummed, pulling him closer to feel the front of his body pressed up against your own, his hands going around the small of your back. Pleasure pooled in your middle, lighting you up as you stood in front of the convenient store and shared kisses with a beautiful stranger.

Sharing a breath, his fingers twitched around you as your lashes fluttered. His eyes were already watching when you opened them back up.

“Cherries were always my favorite.” He kissed you again and somehow you knew it would lead to a cherry frosted cake and the sharing of vows.

#dev writes #drabble #fic titles #prompt challenge #writing exercise #writing game #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fic #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fanfiction

[pimosworld]

read it again part II

My continuation of some of my favorite fics and series to re-read.

As always please check the individual warnings on each one. I have a wide range of things I read and enjoy and it’s up to you to indulge or skip whatever you’d like.

Part I here

Frankie Morales

Taste like heaven- @magpie-to-the-morning

Fuck it I love you- @psychedelic-ink

Take care of you- @whiskeynwriting

The hunt- @absurdthirst

Santiago Garcia

Ride or Die series- @writefightandflightclub

Cold shower- @the-little-ewok

Santiago Baby- @reallyrallyauthor

Baby Please Series- @hoedamn-eron

Triple Frontier (all the boys)

Then and now- @softlyspector

Team Building Exercise- @mylifeliterally

A proposition- @dameronscopilot

Bloom- @charnelhouse

Steven Grant

But you can’t wait to sink in- @moonknightly

Batons and Unicorns series- @stormkobra-5

Panic- @peterman-spideyparker

Make it up to you- @preciousscarab

Marc Spector

Shibari- @bits-and-babs

Making trouble- @juneknight

Far too long- @fettuccin-e

Tag team- @babyboibucky

Jake Lockley

Getting to know you- @moonlight-presence

Let me help you- @screwtodd-stevesherdaddynow

Look at me- @luc-k-y

So cold- @loki-hargreeves

Moon Knight ( all the boys)

A long night- @myfictionaldreams

Limitless- @missdictatorme

More hearts than mine- @starryevermore

Torn, Show me- @blackleatherjacketz

The shape of you-niverse- @bit-dodgy-innit

Feel free to leave a comment with your favorite re-read or message me directly to include in future installments.

Please comment and reblog the authors works that they pour their time, heart and soul into.

#triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #pedro pascal characters #moon knight #marc spector x fem!reader #steven grant x f!reader #jake lockley smut #moon knight series #moon knight fanfiction #triple frontier frankie #triple frontier drabble #triple frontier x reader #moon knight fic #moon knight mcu #steven grant fanfiction #francisco “catfish” morales #triple frontier au #triplefrontier #fic recs #pimosrecs #moon knight system #triple frontier fanfiction #santiago garcia x reader #oscar isaac characters #jake lockley fanfiction #jake lockely x reader #marc spector smut #steven grant x reader #moon boys x reader

[angelickks]

ex-wife - francisco ʻcatfishʻ morales

drabble - ex-husband! francisco ʻcatfishʻ morales x ex-wife! reader warning(s): divorce (obvi), longing, insinuation to drug use, like one swear word, nickname "mama", a very sad and lovesick frankie this was definitely just something i was playing around with, just a short little drabble. i havenʻt been as active much BUT I have been working on some things. feedback is always appreciated loves,my inbox is always open! it could be a potential series?? who knows. slightly proofread, muah!

“francisco?”

 he hadn’t heard that voice in almost two years, that soft angelic voice he had missed since the ink on his divorce papers dried. 

he betrays his mind when his heart tells him to face you. he can’t help the way his lips part in surprise, his ex-wife as he lives and breathes, just beautiful as the day she left him. he can’t help but crack a sad smile at the beautiful woman that still takes up every inch of his heart. 

“hi mama” he utters softly, unsure if he’s even allowed the pleasure to call you that anymore, he simply can’t help it. you purse your lips together at the endearing nickname from your ex-husband, still, you give him a smile as you’re genuinely happy to see him. 

frankie doesn’t fully register that you’re moving towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist and planting a greeting kiss on his cheek. he blinks a few times before wrapping his arms around you, he’d dreamt of the day he’d feel your arms again and here he is not fully registering it. 

“how are you francisco? what brings you here?” 

you ask kindly, genuine concern and curiosity laced in a voice he’s yearned for. he rubs the back of his neck nervously, still not believing that you’re here and looking absolutely radiant, you pick up on his nervous tell like it’s second nature. 

“oh…meeting the guys in a bit actually, pope brought us out. you know this isn’t usually my scene, mama.”

he can’t help your infamous nickname from slipping out, he’s called you it long before your marriage and seeing you again is bringing back memories of it. 

you nod knowingly, chuckling slightly at the mention of santiago and his endeavors. 

“i know that. i’m sure this is certainly awkward for you frankie, i just hadn’t seen you in a while and it would’ve been rude of me not to say hello.” 

always so kind and considerate his girl, he guesses that even after the two years of being separated that never changed, just the fact that you weren’t his anymore. 

while yes, you certainly wanted to talk to frankie, it brought back memories. not to mention, his nickname for you made your heart flutter for your ex-husband but that certain fondness and memories were just that, an old flame and memories. at least you tell yourself that, one of the many things you and frankie have in common. 

“speaking of which uh…what brings you here? business calling, i assume?” 

you look down as you smile, frankie’s memory impeccable as always. when you two were together he remembers the dreadful business meetings held at more prestigious bars such as this one. they were never your thing, usually feeling like it was a waste of both time and resources. 

no ethical amount of business is done over expensive seafood and booze. 

“thank god, no. in fact i quit working for that company, i’m currently the project manager for their competitors. no more cocktail business meetings for me. i’m just out with some friends, i secured a partnership so i’m celebrating.”

he nods understandingly, admiring the way your face lights up at the mention of your new job. he loves how happy you look, picking up on how well-rested you look and how healthy you’ve been as you practically glow. it’s downright criminal how breathtaking you look right now, and while he will take any chance to admire his ex-wife’s beauty, he can’t help but feel guilty. 

“well i’m happy for you mama, you deserve it all. you always did.” 

his voice is low and endearing, there’s a tinge of sadness laced behind it and he prays you don’t pick up on it. you open your mouth to respond, but are quickly cut off by a ruckus only identifiable as the only men frankie trusts with his life. 

“catfish, you sorry fuck! where the hell have you been?” 

it’s almost ironic how hothead benny miller steals the show. you giggle at the stares and the frustrated frown frankie adorns, squeezing the bridge of his nose. it’s comical how ben’s brows quirk up, head whipping around as he hears a laugh he hasn’t heard in a long time. in a flash of blonde hair and pure muscle, you’re engulfed in a hug by none other than the younger miller. 

“look at you mama! gorgeous, as i live and breathe, where have you been all my life?” 

for a brief moment your heart soars, and if seeing your ex-husband didn’t help, this brings back memories of all the times spent in your old home. 

“oh benny, look at you!” 

you both pull away but your hands remain on his broad shoulders as you take him in, that infamous cocky smirk ever present on his lips. 

“do a spin for me will you handsome? lemme look at you” 

he gives you a flirtatious “yes ma’am” before doing a slow spin, blabbering on about taking it all in. as if you needed more reminders from your past, you see a group starting to form around you. 

your eyes land on will first and you swear you could cry at the sight. he pulls you into a reassuring hug, sensing your nerves, mumbling a greeting into your shoulder. while benny was well loved by you, will always was your favorite miller. at one point in your life, he was your rock when frankie fell back into using. so far you’ve had nothing but pleasant memories but with one look it had turned bittersweet, reminding you of the weight of your divorce. 

“alright we get it, there’s enough of her to go around. c’mere woman, i missed you” 

you pull from will, rolling your eyes as they land on santiago. you shove him back playfully before pulling him into a tight hug. 

“hey mama” he chuckled out, pulling back for a second to plant a kiss on your forehead. 

you were over the moon to see the boys again, the divorce in itself was painful, but having them go away for the time being only added salt to the wound. meanwhile frankie did what he always does, fall back and observe quietly. 

he sighs quietly, his mind still in shock at seeing you again, but god did it make his heart wrench seeing you with his friends. it was eerie how natural you fell back into their dynamic, not because it irked frankie, but because of how much it reminded him of you both. 

of how much time was spent with the very people surrounding him, how many beautiful memories were shared, how beautiful the memory of his marriage was. 

this entire ordeal opened the floodgates to the months spent longing, drowning out what was left of you, and having to live with his mistakes. 

if he didn’t have as much willpower, he’d find the nearest exit and simply breakdown. he lingers on the thought until broken out of his trance by the woman that still plagues the very idea. 

“it’s lovely to see you francisco, you look handsome as ever. i’d love to take you all in but it would be rude to abandon my own entourage..” your voice trails into a teasing tone as you playfully flirt with the guys, all in good fun. 

frankie blushes at the sentiment, silently cursing how warm and red he feels without even touching a drop of alcohol. 

“i mean it when i say you look stunning ma, thank you.” he says lowly, meant for your ears and yours only.  

he doesn’t quite thank her for the compliment, he thanks her for her kindness, her short-lived company, for simply even being in his presence. 

her eyes shine at his response, causing her ex-husband to melt at the sight. 

she knows, she always knows. my smart, beautiful woman. 

while he doesn’t voice his inner thoughts, she reads him like an open book and for a split second looks at him like how she used to. 

she sees the man she fell in love with and has said many times even after their separation, that she will always love him. 

during that split second she sees a husband, a best friend, a partner, and most importantly the source of her love and adoration. 

but as quickly as it comes, it goes. eyes looking away to avoid his lovesick gaze, reminding herself of why she left and why she will stay away. 

with that, she kisses them all on the cheek sweetly, says goodnight and to always be safe. as she approaches frankie she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him into a tight embrace. 

it stands a reminder, that she’ll always have love in her heart for the man that was hers long before their marriage, that he’ll always love the woman that was his long before his mistakes ate away at him. 

she pulls away, still in his arms and places a soft kiss to his lips. it’s meant to be soft and forgiving, still it wasn’t long enough for either of them. 

as quickly as she came, she was gone. lost to a sea of people that crowd the pretentious place that’s far too nice for his taste. 

his reality comes back and the room isn’t as bright as it was when she walked in, faced with the harshness of his predicament just as it was two years ago. 

santiago claps a hand on his shoulder, sensing his sudden distress. 

“life is unpredictable. maybe another time, in another place” 

#drabble #˚₊‧꒰ა angelickk blog ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ #˚₊‧꒰ა angelickk masterlist ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ #frankie morales #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #santiago pope garcia #ben miller #will ironhead miller #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales #pedro pascal character fics #pedrohub #frankie morales imagine #female reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal imagine #oscar isaac characters #charlie hunnam #garrett hedlund

[endlessthxxghts]

Time of The Month

New boyfriend!Frankie Morales x afab!gn!reader

Summary: You had a date planned tonight, but your monthly visitor makes an early appearance, wreaking bloody havoc on your plans. W/C: 1k (wow, I'm sticking to my celebration rules for once?) Content warnings: Pics are for aesthetic purposes only!! Mature content, but purely fluff and comfort! Mention of reader having period, but no use of any pronouns or physical or feminine descriptors. Santi gets mentioned! Frankie calls you "cariño" and "baby." Some kissing. Honestly, I think that's it! Please let me know if I missed anything. BLOG RULES MAKE THIS 18+! MDNI.

A/N: This is my response to this request made by @sawymredfox in regard to my 1k follower celebration! I hope this gives you all the fluff and comfort you were hoping for!🥹 Also, shoutout to @javierpena-inatacvest for picking out the pictures above — it matches the comfort vibe perfectly. Thank you, bestie, I love you.💚 Anywho, I hope you enjoy. I'd love to hear what ya guys think. All my love. Xx

MASTERLIST || L'S 1K CELEBRATION

You and Frankie have been seeing each other, officially, for a few months now. And even though you two were friends for a little bit of time before that, there was still a charge of attraction then. So, really, your entire relationship started in the talking stage. So, yeah, your guys’ relationship is relatively new, which is why he’s shaking like a leaf at the prospect of letting himself into your home without you giving him the approval to do so—even if you told him so many times before that it was okay. But when you didn’t answer your phone for the third time in a row, he knew something was off, especially since you two had a little date planned in a few hours. 

Putting in the code to your garage—no, he doesn’t have a key…yet—he makes his way through, hitting the button inside to watch it fall shut before he actually enters your home. He’s met with complete silence: all lights off, the television off, no sign of life anywhere. 

He calls out your name, voice filled with anxiety. A beat passes, and no answer. He walks deeper inside, slowly making his way to the living room. “Cariño?” He calls out. Still, no answer. He really doesn’t want to invade your privacy like this, but part of him can’t just sit in the unknown. Not when his partner is the most communicative person he’s ever met in his life. No, something is really wrong. 

He makes his way to your bedroom. The door is shut, but not all the way—enough for Frankie to see your dimly lit space and smell a plethora of essential oils coming from your room. He gives your door a slight knock before entering, and the view he’s met with sends him in absolute shambles. You’re curled up in your bed, fetal position, cocooned in a thick blanket, and your arms are wrapped around something—holding it tight to your lower belly. A heating pad, he thinks. 

Your bedside table houses a glass of water, some painkillers, and some chocolate. Then, it clicks. 

You’re on your period. 

It’s not like Frankie has never experienced a person being on their period before, and it’s not like he hasn’t seen you on your period before (just last month—duh!). But he has never seen you like this. So weak and fragile. So in pain. God, he hates seeing you in any kind of pain. He would take it all away if he could. 

The only reason he’s nervous is because he knows every person who gets their period is different; their needs are different. Unique. Some prefer the warm embrace of another at all times, others prefer complete solitude. Frankie was still learning what you were like during your time of the month, and he just wants to be as accommodating as possible for you. He doesn’t want to make you upset, ever, and definitely not when you’re in such a vulnerable state—ready to either cry or rip him a new asshole. Whatever he would have to experience, though, he would endure it, for you. 

Scooting closer to the side of the bed you’re laying on, he slowly kneels, his broad hand feeling your forehead. Warm and a slight layer of sweat from your cocoon and your heat pack. You stir at his touch. “Cariño,” he whispers, trying to get you aware of his presence. 

Your eyebrows furrow, a little pout forming, not wanting to wake up. Frankie softly laughs to himself. He brings his face closer to yours, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Baby,” he says a little louder this time, still unbelievably gentle. 

One eye slowly peels open, the other following suit. “Frankie?” you say with uncertainty, your voice thick with sleep. Your hand leaves its hold on your heat pack to rub the fatigue out of your eyes. 

“Hi, honey,” he whispers, his thumb mindlessly caressing your face wherever he can reach. 

“B-baby, what are you doing here? I-” you gasp. “Oh, fuck! Baby!” You immediately rip the blanket off of you, scrambling to get yourself to sit up. “Baby, our date! What time is it? I must’ve fallen asleep- I- I’m sor-”

Standing a little taller now on one knee, Frankie stands between your legs, both his hands finding their homes on your cheeks, pulling you to look at him—to ground you. He kisses your nose, a soft say of your name to get your attention. 

“Cariño, breathe, it’s okay, we’re okay,” he says softly. “We planned for 7, baby, it’s 5:30.”

He feels your body start to relax, a soft sigh of relief fanning his cheeks. “Oh,” you whisper.

“The question is, though,” he asks, one hand leaving your cheek to rest across your lower belly. “Do you feel okay enough to even leave the house?”

You track his hand before you meet his eyes. “...not really,” you admit. 

“That’s oka-”

Cutting him off with a thick sigh, “I’m so sorry, baby, I just ruined tonight. My period has been wonky lately. I was supposed to start tomorrow, but it ended up being a murder scene a few hours ago, and I’ve been in pain ever since. I didn’t even realize how hard I knocked out-”

He pulls your face into his, your lips meeting each other in a soft embrace, stopping your brain from the 5k marathon it was currently running. He pulls away, your cheeks completely hot under his gaze, Frankie mirroring your bashfulness. “I- I’m sorry, I just-” he lets out a breathy laugh. “I don’t need you overthinking with me, cariño. I promise it’s okay. As long as I’m with you, I really don’t care what we’re doing. Okay?”

“Okay,” you respond, eyes tearing up at how sweet your boyfriend is. 

“I just want you. I just need you. Nothing else,” he angles your head down to kiss your forehead. “Now what’s my baby craving? I’ll go get it.”

“No-” you immediately reply, clearing your throat to suppress your eager response. “No… just. I don’t want you to leave me.” You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his kneeling form flush against your sitting one. 

“Okay, baby. I’ll just get it delivered then. Pretty sure Santi isn’t doing anything besides being an asshole,” he says, laughing into your neck. “Wanna bother him?”

“Fuck yeah,” you laugh. Frankie beams at the sound. 

“¿Qué quieres comer?” What do you want to eat? 

“Mmm, can we get…” you trail off, a little shy to indulge. He’s probably hungry and wanting a real meal like what your original plan was for, but here you are, craving nothing but junk and snacks to satiate you tonight. 

“Hm? Fries and a chocolate frosty? You want pickles, too, huh? Maybe some mashed potatoes?”

Oh my God. You’re going to fucking marry this man. 

“…yes.” 

Frankie pulls away from you with a smirk, reaching for his phone to dial up Santi. 

Huh. Maybe he already does know you—especially during this time of the month. 

End note - I hope this was okay!🥹 There are a few more requests for me to do as part of my celebration!! I'm sorry if it seems like I'm dragging them out lol! Not my intention at all, just trying to balance my excitement with the neediness of school😩 lolol but anyway, I love you all SO MUCH thank you for your endless love.💚

#L's 1k follower celebration #endless thoughts fics #pedro pascal #pedrohub #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #smut #pedrostories #drabble #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfic #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #francisco morales x f!reader #francisco morales #frankie morales fluff

[wildemaven]

My sweet Heidi! Congrats again on your 1K bby!! You deserve it and even more!! I was wondering if I could put in a blind drabble request with my love Frankie and numbers 22 and 301. I’m so proud of everything you’re doing and am so glad to call you one of my best buds. 💜💜💜

Meet Cute in the Garden Section

Wildemaven 1k Celebration / 1k Masterlist Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Blog; No warnings, just fluff!

Prompts: "This doesn't smell like roses." / "It was nice meeting you."

You don’t mean to stare. Actually you do, because it’s the cutest thing you’ve seen in a while. 

Between reading the tiny plant labels and filling your cart with an array of plants you had been looking forward to purchasing for your growing garden, you can’t help but notice a Dad and his daughter an aisle over doing some planting shopping of their own. 

He seems a little lost, removing his tattered ball cap every once in a while to comb through his chestnut locks, as he examines each plant his daughter holds up to him. His furrowed brow gives you the impression he doesn’t shop for plants often. 

As you continue your browsing, you find yourself in the same section as the cute shopping duo. In closer proximity you decide the Dad is quite cute with how his eyes crinkle when he smiles at something his daughter is saying and you think you see a hint of a dimple through his patchy beard. 

“This one is cute too Papa! Look at it.” The sweet little girl, who looks to be around 5 or 6 years old, says to her Dad holding up the tiny potted plant. “Can we get this one too?”

He takes the plant from her tiny hands, squinting as if he either forgot his glasses at home or thinks he doesn’t need them and continues struggling through reading small print. 

“I don’t know baby, I can’t really tell what the little symbol is, if this one is saying full sun or partial— maybe no sun?? This one might be a little more difficult to take care of.” He tells her as he goes to place it back in its designated spot. 

“Actually, those are pretty easy to take care of— perfect starter plants too.” You say, giving him a reassuring smile so as to not come off as some creepy stranger in the garden department. “Sorry, didn’t mean to bother you, just thought you should know.”

“Thanks— thank you. As you might have guessed, I know nothing about plants, or gardening for that matter.” He says, laughing at confessing his lack of knowledge about plants to a complete stranger. There’s definitely a dimple, way more prominent when he laughs. 

“That’s okay, we all start somewhere. So far, all of your choices are great ones, you shouldn’t have too much trouble getting things going.” You tell him as you glance over their selections. 

“So there’s hope for us then?”

“Definitely!”

“Papa! This doesn't smell like roses!” The sweet little girl, who looks like a copy and paste version of her father, declares while shoving another plant into their nearly filled cart. 

“That’s because it’s a succulent, no real scent to them.” You say, and guessing by her confused expression, she doesn’t know what one is. “It’s like a cactus, but none of those pokey needles on them. They’re fun to take care of because they don’t need a lot of water to grow and love the sun, very low maintenance.”

“That’s just what our garden needs, low maintenance.”

He doesn’t have a ring, but you're aware not everyone wears one these days, so you use your sleuth skills to ask about his marital status so you don’t over step any sort of boundaries. 

“Well, I’m sure your wife will be happy with everything you two have picked out.”

“Oh, we’re not married— I have her on the weekends and she’s been begging to plant a garden since she has one at her mom’s place. And I have no clue what I’m doing so I’m just guessing as we go.” 

Cute, and single. 

“I’m Frankie and this is Isabella.”

You give him your name and you continue to talk him through his gardening hesitations, really soaking up everything little detail you’re sharing with him— wishing he had something to take notes knowing he’ll probably forget most of it by the time they get home. 

“It was nice meeting you. I hope you both have fun and I wish you the best of luck in your gardening ventures.” Realizing you had definitely overstayed your welcome, but wishing you could chat more with Frankie— and not just about plants and their needs. 

You give them both a friendly wave goodbye, turning back to your cart to make your way to pay for your own plants, looking forward to an afternoon of planting and deciding what to make for dinner. 

You had finished loading your car with your collection of flowers and a few bags of potting soil, when you hear your name being called, and turn to see Frankie and Isabella walking in your direction. 

“Hey! More gardening questions?” 

“Yeah, I mean— not really. I was wondering, umm if I could maybe get your number. In case I were to have any questions about garden stuff, I could text you or call if you prefer— or I could turn back around and head to my car and we can pretend this lame attempt at me asking to see you again didn’t happen.” He sounds nervous, his one hand firmly tucked into the pocket of his jeans and the other securely around Isabella’s tiny hand— his irresistible smile and charming personality has really won you over. 

“I’d love to give you my number— for gardening and stuff.” 

#wildemaven 1k celebration #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes #wildemaven blind drabbles

[wrappedinthemilkyway]

Wet

Pairing: Frankie "Catfish" Morales x Reader

Summary: You and Frankie both need to be up early the next day but Frankie's been thinking about you.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, pure filthy smut no plot, established relationship, dirty talk, subby Frankie (but he has his moments), switch Frankie and switch reader (kinda), creampie, squirting, dry humping, cumming in clothing, petnames (some in Spanish), riding, SLIGHT anal and wedgie play (blink and you'll miss it), bit of nipple play, dacryphilia / crying during sex, praise (like, an obscene amount of it)

Word count: 2.5k

a/n: i'm ovulating, sorry :/

It had started off innocent, holding each other as you attempted to fall asleep. You’d both decided to head to bed earlier than usual, needing to be up early the next day.

But you and Frankie couldn’t sleep.

You’d started kissing. Small pecks at first, smiles between them, a declaration of love and a way of pouring that love into the other. But then Frankie cupped your face, holding it gently in place as he started pressing deeper kisses onto your lips, keeping them against each other longer. 

“Frankie.” You’d tried to warn, his name falling from your lips in half-reprimand. 

“Just wanna kiss you like this, baby. I’ll be good, I promise.” He whispered against your lips. His raspy voice shot right through your body, a tightness forming in your core that you knew you’d be unable to stop. 

He kept up his kisses until they became sloppier, tongues circling, teeth grazing and pulling at each other’s lips. You sighed into his mouth, pressing your body even closer into him, and you could feel him smile against your lips at the feeling of you slowly giving in. 

He brought his hand up from your lower back, tracing it up the sides of your body until it reached your breast. He cupped you in his hand, feeling how soft you sat in his palm. He started to move his hand across the flesh with pressure, each motion of his hand causing a delicious friction on your nipple.

“Frankie.” You tried to warn again, but the pressure that had started to build in your body made your voice come out shakier than you needed it to.

The bud started to tighten, pronouncing itself through your t-shirt, calling for Frankie. You let out a moan as he began to tug and play with it.

“Yeah, that feel good baby?”

He pinched your nipple harder, a mix of pleasure and pain that moved down to your clit. 

He moved onto your other nipple, playing with it until he could feel your heart hammering through your chest. Your resolve was slipping, Frankie knew. 

He’d been thinking about this all day, thinking about how badly he needed you. He couldn’t help himself, even if he knew you’d both be tired the next day. 

He moved your hips, angling them so that his thigh was pressed between yours, encouraging you to rut your pussy onto him. 

Another moan caught in your throat and you looked up at Frankie with desperate eyes. 

“Frankie, please - make me feel good.” Any inhibition that you’d had earlier had disappeared, the throb of your pussy steadily growing.

His hands moved to your waist to pull you closer, directing your movement over his thigh. You sigh at the feeling, grinding yourself down onto his thigh. 

“You look so pretty like this, querida.” He kissed your cheek and nipped at your jaw. “Rubbing your little pussy on my thigh like you’re in heat.” 

Your body began to tremble as the pleasure started spreading from your clit. His thigh was rubbing you exactly like you needed him to. You could only pant, breath staggered at how he was making you feel. 

He pulled you closer, placing his arm across your back as he flipped you over on top of him. The new angle let you feel the press of his cock on your pussy, and you immediately went back to your rutting.

He let out a groan at the feeling of you moving your hips on top of him, the pleasure building up in his own core. You let out your own moans and gasps, the rut of your hips not stopping. 

You try to move off him to take your shirt off but his arm keeps you caged against him, not allowing you to get up from the position you’d taken. 

You lift your head to look at him, eyes meeting. 

“You feel so good on my pussy, Frankie.” Tears had started to build up in your eyes. 

“Yeah? You’re doing so good baby, making your pussy feel good all by yourself. Keep going, amor.” He moved one of his hands down to your ass, pulling the material of your shorts up so that the seam teased at both holes. 

You felt yourself clench, a moan tearing through your throat as you sped up your hips, desperate to feel good. 

He started playing with your shorts and panties, pulling them up and down. The tears that had welled up in your eyes kept building, the look on your face becoming more and more dazed as you began to drip through layers of clothing. 

Your sounds came out soft and high pitch, the thin rope tethering you to this earth beginning to snap. 

Frankie’s cock twitched, throbbing as your pussy moved against him. 

“Just like that baby, doing so good, so so good.” He kissed the top of your head, moving his hips so his cock was finally rubbing you back. “Making them kiss, hm baby?” 

“Frankie-” It was a short sharp cry of his name before your whole body coiled on top of him. 

You shook through your orgasm, body heaving as you breathed through it sharply. You gushed from your cunt, arousal pouring out of you. You could feel the wetness pool and drip forward onto your clit even with the material of your clothes there to interrupt. 

“That’s it baby, cum in your pretty panties, get them nice and wet for me, hm. Getting your shorts all fucking wet too.”

Frankie’s cock ached painfully, and he was unable to tell whether the sudden wetness he felt was from the precome he was dripping or from the way you’d just come on top of him. 

Your whole body went limp on his, legs twitching and eyes still rolled to the back of your head from the feeling of it all. But you couldn’t stop. 

You kept rutting your hips against him, the overwhelming wetness making it even easier than before. 

“Fuck-” Frankie whined, stomach clenching as he felt himself get pushed closer to his own peak. 

“Want you to cum in your clothes too Frankie, want us to be dirty together.” You moaned out, voice high pitch and choked as you kept up your motions. “Wanna eat your cum when it’s all sticky in your boxers.”

Frankie couldn’t hold back anymore, coming with a loud whine, stomach clenched and toes curling so hard he thought his leg would cramp. His cock jumped in his shorts, shot after shot of his cum soaking through the material of his boxers and pajamas. 

He pulled you as close to him as possible, pussy pressed firmly against him as you felt his pants get warm and wet beneath you. Your pussy clenched in response, the wetness of your clothes and his allowing for each pulse to be felt. 

“Ah, ah, ah- fuck, ah.” He couldn’t stop, arms shaky and whole body covered in sweat at how hard he came. 

“Mmmm, so good Frankie, did so good.” You kissed him, hands on his chest feeling the erratic beat of his heart. “You made such a mess, baby.” You emphasised your point by wiggling your hips on top of his, the action causing a loud moan to tear out of both of you. “This what you wanted? Wanted us to cum together like this, baby?”

“Made my cock feel so good, you always make my cock feel good, querida.” He answered, words jumbled as he spoke through the aftershocks. “Never want to stop, want you on my cock always.” 

“Frankie-” You choked out, his words keeping your heart rate pulsing at your clit. You sat up, blood rushing to your ears, making them ring. 

“I’m gonna sit on your cock, okay baby?” You asked, sounding completely wrecked as you moved to take your shirt off. “Gonna bounce on it for you until the whole bed is soaked, okay?”

His cock was already starting to harden, not there yet but quickly fighting for more. Desperate for more. 

“Fuck, yes- bounce on my cock princesa, it’s all yours.” He moaned.

“Yeah, it’s mine?” You finally took off your shirt, nipples so hard it was painful. 

“All yours, all of it.” His eyes scanned your chest, his own nipples hard beneath his top. You ran your hands over them, flicking them and feeling as his hips bucked up.

“Take your shirt off, Frankie.” 

He struggled to comply, head dizzy from the pleasure, body weak and slow in its movement. He managed to prop himself up enough to take it off before his body gave out and he slumped onto the mattress again. 

You ran your hands over his chest and stomach, featherlight, watching as goosebumps broke out on his skin and his stomach clenched.

“So pretty, Frankie.” You moaned, barely holding yourself together for the man before you. You needed to feel him inside you, even if your shaky legs and aching pussy begged you for reprieve. 

You ducked your head down to his shoulders, kissing along them and his collarbones before moving down to his hard nipples. You kissed them, scraping your teeth on them. His cock stood up, leaking and still confined in his pants. 

You got up, reaching for his remaining clothes. He tried lifting his hips to try to help you get them off, but you shook your head at him, pushing his hips back down.

You rubbed your hand over the wet material, feeling how warm it was. He watched you, half in pain, half desperate to see you fuck him. 

You moved the band of his boxers and pants down, enough to free him. The band dug slightly beneath his balls, but the feeling didn’t bring pain; it felt good, felt like he was being squeezed. 

“Wanna make our clothes dirtier.” You moaned. “Get everything nice and wet and warm for us.” 

“Fuck, please,” he moaned out your name, your words so filthy he felt like he was going to cum just listening to them. “Let’s cum together, please amor. Sit on me so we can cum on them. Wanna ruin them. Please, please.”

You pulled your soaked shorts and panties aside, the sight of your clenching cunt shining with slick making him hold his breath. 

You grabbed his cock, propping yourself over it with shaky legs as you prepared to take him in. 

You got the tip in slowly, both of you crying out loudly at the feeling of being together like this, his cock slowly sinking into your warm cunt.

But then the pain in your legs combined with the shock from how good he felt, and your legs gave out. You fell on him, his huge cock spearing into you. 

You cried out loudly, a moan of pleasure that was almost a scream, and your legs shook, the tears finally running down your face. “Fuck! Ah, fuck, Frankie!”

His own eyes rolled back, his moan unable to tear out of him as it choked in his chest, heart unsteady and saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth, ready to drool out. 

His hands moved to your hips, weak, as an attempt to soothe you. But he was so far gone, so out of it that the touch was barely there, not able to help you. 

You pushed yourself up with all your strength and dropped yourself onto him again, the motion bringing a fire to your belly. 

“Frankie.” Your head rolled back, hips snapping up and down as you bounced on him. 

“Fuck, taking my cock so well amor. So tight, feel like I’m gonna fucking break you.” He slurred out. “Should keep you on it all the time, stretch you out. Take you out with me, full of my cock just like this.”

His words and the feeling of his cock deep inside you had you seeing stars, gaze dotting as you felt yourself about to pass out from how good he felt. 

“Ah, ah, ah..” Your moans came out weak and small, pathetic, as you helplessly fucked yourself on his cock. 

His hand moved toward where you were both connected, pressed on your lower abdomen as he watched you take his cock in. He dropped his hands lower, moving so that his fingers were rubbing you over your clit. 

You felt a heat creep up your spine, a feeling so wet and hot that you thought you’d end up peeing on him. 

“You take it so well, amor. You’re doing so good for me, dripping on my cock. Such a good fucking pussy.”

You came hard, a loud groan tearing out of you. Your legs shook, threatening to close, your whole body convulsing with the strength of your orgasm.

Frankie moved his hands to your hips. His peak was so close, he couldn’t let it slip from him. He fucked himself into you, rough and deep, from below, making you see stars. 

You didn’t know when you’d stopped cumming, you just knew that you were quickly approaching another orgasm, the slam of his cock in your wet cunt too good. 

You came again, high-pitch and weak, legs convulsing as you squirted on him. 

The liquid gushed down his cock and hips, soaking you both. It pooled down toward his chest as he kept slamming into you, the tilt of his hips moving you so that the liquid dripped forward onto him, all the way to his chin. 

That tore Frankie to his peak. He stilled his hips, pressing himself deep inside you, pulling your waist so that you were flesh against him; he pulled your chest back against his, arm wrapping you again in that position you’d been in at the start of your first peak. You could feel your wetness pressed against your torso.

His cum gushed into you, more tears falling from your eyes as a small moan left your lips. He let out a grunt followed by a whine, his body tight and tense from how good you made him feel.

Everything was warm, everything was wet. Your chests heaved together, room spinning as you both fought to stay tethered to this world. 

He moved to kiss the top of your head, rubbing a soothing pattern on your back. 

“Did so good for me baby, got everything so wet.” He managed to say, completely wrecked.

You clenched around him in response, the twitch and clench of your bodies playing a game of back-and-forth.

“Feel so good Frankie, I love you so much, love you so much.” You garbled out, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth. 

“I love you too baby, did so good for me.” 

You stayed like that for a while, calming down until you were both ready to move again. 

Everything was wet, everything was warm. 

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #frankie morales drabble #francisco catfish morales x reader #fracisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie catfish morales x reader

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Grays Masterlist

COMPLETE | Explicit 🔞 NO minors allowed

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Series tags: Two-shot | hairstylist! F!reader | Reader has a nickname related to her job | friends to lovers | no physical descriptions of Reader

Part I

Frankie wants you to cover up his grays. You want to knock some sense into his salt-and-pepper head.

Sneak peek | extra peek

Part II

Leaning in close, you hiss in his ear, ‘You’re getting laid tonight if it kills me, Morales.’

Sneak peek

Shiv’s Salon drabbles

Hair appointment requests featuring Shiv and various Pedro boys as well as crossovers with my other fics. Mostly humour, a couple more risqué than others!

Seams x Grays crossover: Denim on Denim (Joel Miller)

Drabble: Max Lord (TLOU apocalypse crossover requested by @prolix-yuy)

Drabble: Marcus Moreno (requested by @radiowallet)

Drabble: Javier Peña (requested by @imaswellkid and anon)

Drabble: Jack Daniels (requested by @miss-mandalorian and anon)

Drabble: Dieter Bravo (requested by @damnyoupedro)

Drabble: Javi Gutierrez (requested by @psychedelic-ink)

Ask: Max Phillips and Ezra

Ask: Commandante Veracruz

MAIN MASTERLIST

#fuckyeahgrays #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales two shot #frankie morales drabbles