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#Frankie Morales imagine
javierpena-inatacvest · 2 months
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Cramps
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Summary: After going off of birth control, your periods have been a little more intense than you're used to. What starts out as a stressful morning between you and your husband, very quickly turns into a night that bodes very well for the both of you.
Paring: Husband Frankie Morales x Wife f!reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 5.4K on the dot (idk how we got here)
Warnings: SMUT (18+) PERIOD SEX, unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also they want a baby so), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, again, you're on your period but our pussy eating king Fransisco Morales is an unstoppable force of nature), creampie, praise kink, big fat nasty breeding kink (it's who I am now, I won't apologize for it), Frankie's got a NASTY mouth, Frankie is the best husband, reader is on her period/has period symptoms, talks about family planning/not being on birth control, use of nicknames (hermosa, quierda, cariño), reader has no physical descriptions besides that she can wear Frankie's clothes
A/N: Well... This was gonna be a drabble... and then it was just gonna be fluff.... and then it was gonna be just some implied smut... and now, we're here??? Idk, don't ask me 🥴 self indulgent bc I just finished my period (and my periods have been whack since stopping bc) and what better way to heal myself than imagining what Frankie would be like taking care of you 🥺 also pls be nice to me this is my first time writing Frankie and I'm v nervous EEK I hope you enjoy!!! sorry Javi bby, I still love u
Bitchy. 
You wished you had a better word to describe your mood for today, but truth be told, bitchy was by far the most accurate. 
You and Frankie were hoping to start trying for your first baby soon, and had recently gone off your birth control after your doctor had told you it may take a few months for your body to regulate itself before you had a better chance at getting pregnant. Your doctor had also  warned you about many of the symptoms and side effects that stopping the pill could have, one of those being becoming more aware of your emotions and mood swings throughout your cycle. That, you were prepared for. 
What you were not prepared for, was to feel like an absolute psychopath in the days leading up to your period. 
 Your cycle had  been wonky the past few months as your body began to sort itself out- you had a feeling your period was probably about to start soon, but hadn’t thought much about it, considering your terrible and grouchy mood had overshadowed it. You had tried your best to pull yourself together the past few days, chalking up your grumpiness to long hours at work, or just being in a weird funk, but today, you woke up with a fire in your gut, ready to fight, and poor Frankie was about to be your punching bag. 
Sweet Frankie had been nothing short of a saint when it came to just about anything, but dealing with your newly heightened emotions right before your period really should have earned him some sort of Presidential Medal of Bravery, considering that your newly discovered highs and lows while PMS-ing were just as frightening as any time he had spent during his time in the military. 
Unfortunately for your husband, despite his best efforts, he had been on your nerves all morning. Not because he was really doing anything wrong, but because the little things that you were normally so good about letting go, or the patience you frequently had seemed to have flown out the window, and you were convinced that if Frankie even breathed the wrong way, you were going to absolutely lose it. 
So when unsuspecting Frankie decided to ask you a simple request about after work plans, there was very little he could have done to prepare for your response. 
“Morning, Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, emerging into the kitchen, his hand rustling through his untamed, sleepy brown curls as he let out a yawn and a stretch, the slight softness of his stomach peeking out between his t-shirt and pajama pants as he raised his arms above his head before settling behind you. He wrapped himself around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder as you finished putting the last of your lunch in your bag for work, trying to force yourself to focus on his sweet good morning, rather than the empty bowl of cereal in the sink that had greeted you first thing when you woke up, already starting you off on the wrong foot in your already irritable mood. 
“Morning, babe.” You grinned, forcing yourself to forgo the annoyance hidden behind your smile as you pecked a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips before gathering the rest of your things for the day scattered across the kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to make you breakfast this morning because I was running late, but there’s extra scrambled eggs on the stove if you want them. I’m really sorry, Frankie, I gotta head out, have a good day, I’ll see you later okay?” You sighed, slinging your work bag over your shoulder, your hands full of your coffee mug, water bottle and keys, your cluttered grip and running behind schedule only adding to your frustration. 
“All good, Querida, no worries. Hey, actually baby, before you leave,” He paused, setting down the coffee mug he was just about ready to take a sip of, as if a little lightbulb had just gone off in his brain, “do you mind picking up stuff to make that really good buffalo chicken dip for Benny’s tonight? I told ‘em we’d bring like, an appetizer or something, if that’s okay.” 
For Frankie’s sake, you couldn’t have been more thankful that you had your back turned to him, because if looks could kill, Frankie Morales would have been a dead man. 
Every rational part of your brain knew that even though his request perhaps wasn’t the best timing, stopping by the store and making dip to bring to Benny’s for game night really wasn’t that much time or effort out of your day. But today, it seemed like every part of your brain but the rational one seemed to be functioning properly, and the raging, irrational part might as well have heard that Frankie wanted you to prepare and cook a Thanksgiving meal for 74 after you got home from work. 
You took a deep breath, your grip tightening around the items in your hand, praying with every bone in your body that someway or another, you had misheard your husband. 
“Tonight? As in, like, today, after I get home from work?” You questioned, trying to do your best to keep your tone from sounding too condescending. 
“Yeah, we don’t have to be there until 7, I just don’t think I’m gonna have time to since I probably won’t be outta work until 6:30.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another swig of his coffee 
Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.  
You let out a deep sigh, even more over dramatic than you had intended it to be, arms crossed over your chest and stark frown spread across your face as you turned towards Frankie. 
“Oh, perfect! That’s a great thing for me to find out about at 7:45 A.M. the day of, Frank!” Your voice oozed with ferocious sarcasm, now slamming your things back down onto the table to run your hands over your face. “No, that’s great, because there’s nothing I wanted to do more than to come home and make buffalo chicken dip instead of all the other shit I needed to do today before we left! Amazing! Thank you!” 
At this point, you were almost positive that if your eyes rolled any further, they’d be in the back of your skull, letting out another angry huff as you shook your head at Frankie, who was looking absolutely petrified as he leaned back against the counter, eyes darting to the floor to avoid yours, running his hand over the wispy curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie began to stammer, trying to defend himself from your wrath. 
“Hermosa, I’m- I’m sorry? I know it’s last minute, but you normally make it every time we go over there, I just- I figured it’d be easy for you to do? You can get something else, or I can try to stop by the store really quick on the way home, I just might-” 
“Nope, you want buffalo chicken dip, apparently I’m making buffalo chicken dip!” You groaned, collecting everything back into your hands, swearing under your breath as you tried to balance everything in your grip. “Jesus, okay, I need to go to work, just- I don’t even know. I gotta go, Frankie.” 
“Querida, I-” Frankie pleaded, beginning to trail behind you as you made your way to the front door. 
“Frankie, whatever, it’s fine! I’ll make the stupid dip! I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” You could feel the muscles in your jaw beginning to clench as you gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you to keep from exploding as you headed out of the house. Without even a kiss goodbye, you left Frankie in the doorway, watching you throw your things in the car and slam the door behind you as you drove down the driveway. 
But as soon as you were on the road and your house was out of view, you could instantly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, slowly streaming down your cheeks as you began to sob, wondering why you had ruined the morning over as stupid as an appetizer, and even worse, that you had been a complete asshole to your husband about it. 
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You couldn’t have been more thankful that work had been quiet today- no meetings on the schedule, and no one coming to bother you, leaving you plenty of peace and quiet to continue sulking and brooding in your unpleasant mood. 
Right around lunch time, you found yourself eating alone in your office, wishing your lunch was about ten times saltier and chocolatier than it was, crying to yourself as you watched a video of a dog meeting its new human sibling for the first time.
Just as you were beginning to pack up the rest of your lunch and start back up with your work, you felt a terrible twinge in your lower stomach that had you just about keeled over in pain, followed by that all too familiar feeling in your underwear. 
Frantically scrambling, you reached into your bag to pull out a tampon, hurriedly shuffling to the nearest bathroom, only to reveal the murder scene equivalent as you pulled down your pants. 
Your period had come.  
In that moment, as much as you were dreading the pain and misery that was the next few days to come, you couldn’t also help but feel a slight sense of relief, realizing that you were in fact, not actually a crazy person for the way you were feeling, you were just PMS-ing out of your mind. You couldn’t also help but feel absolutely awful for your unjustified freak out at your husband this morning, your heart sinking with guilt as you made your way back to your desk, immediately grabbing your phone to text Frankie. 
“Hey… I’m so sorry about this morning. What you were asking me to do wasn’t a big deal at all and I totally freaked out on you. My period just started, I think that’s why I’ve been such a bitch this morning. I’m sorry, Frankie, I love you.💕 ” 
It was almost instantly after you hit send that the reply bubble popped up in your message, your heart pounding anxiously waiting for your husband’s reply. 
“It’s okay, I kind of had a feeling 😉 babe, you weren’t being a bitch- I should have talked to you about it sooner. Shitty timing on my part. I’m sorry. I love you too, Querida.” 
Before you could even respond, another message popped up below his first. 
“Don’t worry about going to the store or making anything tonight. I already texted Benny and told him we couldn’t come. We can spend the night in, just the two of us. I can pick up takeout on the way home if you want and we can pick a movie to watch.” 
You could feel your frustrated facade beginning to melt away as your lips shifted from a pursed frown to a small smirk reading Frankie’s text, your thumbs quickly tapping across the screen of your phone to reply. 
“Thank you. You’re the best.” 
“Of course. Hopefully none of your co-workers ask you to make buffalo chicken dip before you leave 😘” 
“Oh shut up, meanie.” 
“Just kidding. Have a good rest of your day, love you. 💙
“Love you too. 🤍” 
Although the rest of your day was nowhere near enjoyable, given the fact you felt like you were getting punched repeatedly in the uterus and your personality resembled that of Oscar the Grouch, you knew that your night in with Frankie was your light at the end of the tunnel, and only needed to make it a few more hours before there was at least some sweet relief finally headed your way. 
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Despite the constant stabbing pain in your lower stomach and back, your drive home from work had you in much better spirits than your drive there, now not only having an explanation as to why you had felt like such a mess, but also knowing the rest of your night was going to be dedicated to nothing but cuddling up in your comfiest clothes and snuggling up next to Frankie on the couch. 
As you pulled down your street, you were surprised to see Frankie’s truck already parked in the driveway, wondering what he was doing at home almost an hour earlier than he had mentioned he would be this morning. Gathering all of your things out of the back of your car, you quietly entered your home, confusion scrunching in your brow as you called out for your husband. 
“Frankie? Babe, are you home?” 
Before you could even kick off your shoes or hang up your coat, Frankie had already appeared at the front door to greet you, boyish grin spread across his face as he grabbed your things out of your hand, carefully placing them on your entryway table before engulfing you in a bear hug, his broad arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer into his chest. 
You could feel all the muscles in your body instantly relax as your face rested against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, soaking in the familiar woody and savory scent of him, letting yourself be consumed by every ounce of his embrace. 
“Hi Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, running his hands up and down your back as you looked up at his sweet brown eyes shining down at you. 
“What are you doing home so early? I mean, not that I’m mad about it at all, I just thought you said that you had to work until 6:30 and-” 
“Told my boss I had to head out early for a family emergency.” Frankie smirked, laughing at you playfully rolling your eyes from his so-called excuse. 
“Last time I checked, your wife being a grump because she’s bleeding out of her cooch doesn’t classify as a family emergency, Fransisco.” You teased, giving him a little shove, making the two of you giggle in tandem. 
“Eh, close enough. I’m really sorry about this morning, querida. I was a dick for not talking to you about plans beforehand and just assuming you could go do it. It wasn’t fair of me.” 
“It’s okay, Frankie. What you were asking for wasn’t a big deal and I made it one because I’ve been a psycho all day. I’m sorry, too.” 
“Well,” Frankie paused, pressing another kiss onto your cheek, the width of his palm gently cradling your jaw as you stared up at him and his sympathetic smile, “number one, you are not a psycho. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now, so even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Number two,” he paused again, shifting his kiss from your cheek to your lips, his thumb delicately swiping across your skin, “you’re my wife and I love you more than anything, and if I can take a little time off to help make you feel better, it’s the least I can do. So, why don’t you go change into something comfortable, and when you get back down here, I will have pizza and ice cream, whatever movie you wanna watch, and a back rub ready for you, okay?”   
“Okay. Thank you, Frankie. God, you’re the best.” You grinned, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your mouth meet Frankie’s, the plush pout of his bottom lip swiping across yours, lingering just long enough to let the butterflies in your stomach begin to swirl, heat creeping through your cheeks in the tenderness of the moment.
“Of course, cariño. Te amo. Now go get changed.” With one last peck on his lips, you wiggled out of Frankie’s grasp to make your way up the stairs, grinning to see that your husband had already set out your favorite of his oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants, neatly folded on the bed for you to grab, quickly shuffling out of your uncomfortable work attire and exchanging it for Frankie’s clothes, your smile growing even wider at the feeling of perpetually being wrapped up in the essence of him. 
As you made your way back downstairs to meet Frankie, you found your heart skipping a beat again to see that the better part of the living room had been turned into a cozy sanctuary- lights dim and candles lit, both parts of your couch squished together, filled with every pillow and blanket you owned, and Frankie sitting in the middle, giant box of pizza, tub of ice cream and your handsome husband waiting for you. 
As if your emotions hadn’t already taken you on a wild roller coaster of a ride today, the adorable sight in front of you had you on the verge of tears again, wiping the wetness pooling in your eyes with the back of Frankie’s sweatshirt sleeve drooping off your arm before crawling into the blanket fort he had constructed for the two of you. 
“Frankie… You didn’t have to do this.” You sniffled, curling up next to Frankie as he draped a blanket over your lap and his arm over your shoulder, passing you a plate with 2 large pieces of pizza. 
“It’s the least I could do. I put on Hercules for us to watch, but if you wanna-” 
Before you could let him finish the rest of his sentence, you were running your hand across the scratchy stubble of his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you planted a kiss on his lips, feeling your smiles melt into one another's as your mouths met. “That sounds perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky?” 
“I could say the same thing, mi amor. You ready to start the movie?” 
“Only if you also pass me that tub of Ben and Jerry’s to go with my pizza.” 
“I think I can make that happen.” 
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About half way through the movie, pizza and tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, your and Frankie’s bodies were tangled together in a sea of limbs and blankets, contently snuggled up with one another as Frankie’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back and shoulder as you laid against his chest. 
“You doin’ okay, querida? Need anything?” He cooed, his soft voice dancing in your ear. As if it weren’t enough that you had already been through the extreme highs and lows of almost every feeling under the sun today, the one you hadn’t been until this very moment was insatiably horny. While the mood swings you had mentally prepared yourself for with your new period symptoms, the constant other kind of ache between your legs you had not, and feeling the low rasp of Frankie’s words tickling your neck had been just enough to flip the switch to make you desperately needy. 
Letting your leg slide over Frankie’s lap, you pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, running your hands through the dark curls of his thick, brown hair, and down his broad chest, your fists bunching the worn fabric of his shirt in your hands as your mouths became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth. 
“I need- fuck- I need you, Frankie, please.” You pleaded between muffled moans, his tongue swiping in the parted space where your lips melted together as one, instinctively beginning to grind your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants starting to grow beneath you. 
“Fuck- You sure, baby?” Frankie rasped, reactively bucking up into you, making you whine as his hands dug into your hips, guiding you as you swirled over the tented fabric of his bottom half rubbing against your covered core. 
“Please. Please, Frankie.” You were all but whimpering at this point, nodding frantically in approval as Frankie used the grasp on your hips to guide you onto your back, making you cock your head in confusion as Frankie scampered to the other side of the couch, back turned to you as he reached over the ledge, pulling out a thick, black towel with a smug grin on his face. “Did you seriously have a towel ready incase I wanted to have sex?” You snorted, shaking your head at Frankie, now crawling back to you, caging your body under his with an electric kiss as he shimmied the towel underneath you. 
“Maybe.” Frankie smirked, breaking from your kiss to let his lips trail down your body, his hands toying with the edge of his sweatshirt covering your body as he pushed it up your stomach and chest, helping you to shimmy it over your head, leaving your top half exposed. He gently palmed at your breasts, taking each pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking at the buds with his tongue before letting his kisses travel down the soft skin of your stomach and waistband of your sweatpants. The clothes on your bottom half soon joined your sweatshirt in a crumpled pile as Frankie nestled himself between your legs, gently nudging your hips to let your thighs part, revealing your pussy, slick and shiny for him with your juices. 
Even though Frankie would eat you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a late night snack, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still found himself between your legs during your time of the month, considering any other man probably would have scoffed at just the thought of going down on you on your period. 
But, then again, Frankie Morales wasn’t just any other man. 
“Frankie, baby, you know you don’t- Oh fuck!” You gasped, cut off in surprise as Frankie’s tongue licked a long, broad strip across your cunt, making you shudder in pleasure as his head perked up, revealing the devilish grin spread between his cheeks watching your chest already heave in heavy, shaky breaths. 
“Oh I know I don’t have to, sweet girl. But I want to. Relax, baby, lemme take care of you.” 
Before you could agree, protest, or anything in between, Frankie was back between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs as they draped over his broad shoulders, digging his fingertips into the plush softness of your skin, dragging his tongue through your folds with the exact grace and precision that he knew made you fall apart in seconds. 
With flat, firm presses of his mouth latched against your clit, you could already feel your bottom half writhing under him, the perfect pressure of his tongue dancing around your sensitive bundle of nerves making you moan in pleasure. As your head dipped back, falling into the couch pillow behind you, your hand shot down, fingers burying themselves in the wild curls of Frankie’s hair, tugging at the thick ends for any sort of release as he worked relentlessly at your aching cunt. 
“Fuck, Frankie, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your praise only intensifying the way your husband drank every ounce of you up, two thick fingers now gently pressing inside your heat, curled deliciously as they rocked in and out of your entrance, nudging against your g-spot. 
Frankie had spent enough time worshiping the altar that was your pussy to know exactly how to make you crumble beneath him, leaving you chanting his name like a prayer as his lips latched around your clit, ferociously sucking as his fingers prodded at the soft, spongy spot that made your cunt begin to clench and heat in your belly pool. 
“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Frankie groaned, his words humming deep in his chest, placing chaste kisses on the inside of your thighs before drinking you up like a man starved, adding a third finger into your heat, the added fullness and stretch, combined with Frankie’s relentless pace, enough to have the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine now washing through every inch of your body. Your orgasm began to crash through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins, making you cry out Frankie’s name over and over. 
Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum again, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become, your pussy slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the Frankie and fucked you senseless with just his tongue. 
Wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand, Frankie tugged the sweatshirt covering his own body over his head, followed by his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock as it slapped against his stomach, his tip red and leaking with precum as his broad body loomed over yours, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as you whimpered his name. 
“Frankie, holy fuck.” 
“Such a good girl for me, querida. You still want me to fuck you, baby?” He mewled, the metallic and tangy taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he kissed you, laughing to himself at the way you found yourself frantically nodding your head to tell him yes before your words could. 
“Jesus Christ, yes. Fuck, please Frankie, I need to feel you.” 
Reaching down to stroke himself, he lined his cock up with your entrance, easily sliding into your heat and brushing his tip against your cervix, taking a moment to let you adjust to his fullness. The whine you let out as Frankie filled every inch of you was nothing short of ragged, digging your nails into the skin of his broad back as he ever so slowly began to thrust in and out of you, dragging his length against the slick of your cunt. 
“Oh fuck me- Fuck, you hear how wet you are for me, sweet girl? This what you needed, baby? To fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” Frankie groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, his sweaty curls now starting to stick to his skin as he pounded into you, rutting his hips at a faster and faster pace. 
“It’s all for you, Frankie- Oh shit- only for you.” You moaned, your fingers wrapping around the width of his biceps, flexing deliciously as he hovered over you, sucking you in to a long, deep kiss, fucking into you over and over. 
Even with the years between you and the ring on your finger, the possessive part of Frankie’s brain would never get over how the primal and all consuming feeling of knowing you were his, forever, your words shooting straight to his dick as a low groan rumbled in his chest, silently cursing to himself through gritted teeth, watching you fall apart below him. 
Readjusting himself, Frankie sat back on his heels, hooking his arm under one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, the new angle stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as Frankie rammed into your g-spot and began thumbing at your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm. You could already feel the heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, your leg beginning to tremble hoisted over Frankie’s shoulder as he dug into the meat of your thigh with a bruising intensity. 
Just like he would never get over the fact of knowing you were his, Frankie would never get over watching you begin to crumble under his touch, taking the time to memorize every twitch and twinge your body made as you came closer and closer to your end, always savoring in the moaning mess you’d become as you fell apart around him. 
“Fuck, Frankie, Fuck, oh my god- I’m close, baby.” You were all but rambling at this point, your brain barley stringing together coherent sentences as you felt your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, the lewd noises of your moans, wetness and skin slapping together as your hips met filling the room at a borderline pornagraphic rate. 
“Meirda, I’m not gonna last much longer, hermosa. Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Frankie growled through gritted teeth, his eyes locking on yours and telling him everything he needed to know without you saying a word. 
“Inside. Fuck, please Frankie, I want you to cum inside me.” 
Your confirmation was all it took to flip the switch in Frankie that sent him absolutely feral, the thought of being able to actually knock you up now that you weren’t on birth control anymore, giving you a baby, proving another way to the world to mark you as his? The thought alone was enough to have him bracing every bone in his body to keep him from cuming right then and there. 
“Fuck me. You want me to fill you up, querida? Fuck me full of you? Fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, huh?” Frankie moaned, grunting with each thrust of his hips, his rhythm becoming more frantic and shaky as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling them in frantic circles to make sure you came before he did. 
“Fuck, yes. I need you too, holy fuck- wanna make you a daddy, Fransisco.” 
You could feel the tightly wound knot in your core starting to snap, your legs trembling and breath shaking as Frankie fucked into you, finding yourself on the verge of collapse- but not before Frankie’s filthy mouth got the last word in. 
“Jesus, fuck- Fuck, hermosa. That’s what you want, pretty girl? I swear, I’m gonna fuck myself so deep into you it’ll fucking take. Get you fucking pregnant tonight.” 
That was all it took to have you orgasm come crashing through you, every inch of your body radiating with pleasure as you came, crying out Frankie’s name as you gushed around him, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head, your mind going blank and numb, the only thing grounding you were the incoherent ramblings of your husband as he followed suit behind you. 
“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, fuck, fuck-ahhhhhh.” With one final thrust, Frankie could feel himself spilling against your walls, coating you with his spend as his cock pulsed, making sure he milked himself of every last drop deep inside your cunt before even thinking about pulling out. Moving your leg, Frankie slumped into you, splaying himself across your body as your chests rose and fell in sync, laying in silence as you let your breathing steady, coming back down to Earth from your high. 
With a shallow grunt, Frankie carefully pulled his softening cock out of your heat, leaning back to admire the mess he had made between your legs, his cum dripping down the inside of your thighs and pussy glistening with the mixture of your arousal. You let out a soft hiss at the loss of Frankie’s fullness inside you, only to quickly be replaced by a gasp as he buried his two fingers back into your cunt.  
“Gotta make sure every last drop stays in there, hermosa. Gonna keep you full of me all night, baby.” He mewled, carefully gathering his spend and pushing it deep inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pulsed his fingers back and forth, pulling away his hand to lean back into your body, engulfing you with an electric kiss. 
“Holy fuck, fuck me. Jesus, Frankie.” You laughed to yourself, your head dipping back on the pillow as you buried your face in your hands, at a loss for words at how euphoric you now felt in your post colital bliss. 
“Wow, again, already? Gotta give me a few after that querida.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his joke as you playfully swatted at him, making him lean in to pepper your body with kisses, leaving you squealing and squirming in delight. 
“You are absolutely ridiculous, Fransisco Morales. If you keep fucking me like that, then yeah, absolutley.” 
“If I keep fucking you like this, I have a very hopeful feeling that next month, we’ll have something else to care about besides period cramps.”
“I swear to god, if one of my cravings ends up being buffalo chicken dip once I’m pregnant, I’m gonna be pissed.”
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kteague · 26 days
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Imagine walking into the kitchen after finally have a full night's sleep after having the baby, confused as to why you weren't awakened earlier by baby cries, only to find your shirtless husband, Frankie, wearing this baby wrap with your newborn little girl nestled inside. Her head rests sweetly against his bare chest as her little lips are parted just so while she sleeps safely tucked against her dad. Frankie scratches at his unkempt curls before he goes back to tidying up the kitchen that both of you were too tired to do the night before. He sneaks a gentle kiss to your daughter's head, a dreamy smile on his face at this incredible little person you've both created, before he finally catches sight of you standing there in his t-shirt.
The two of you share sleepy grins before you walk over to them. Taking a peek at your beautiful little girl, you so very gently rub the back of your finger against her chubby cheek.
"She got up a little too early today," Frankie whispers, "Figured I'd do my best to get her back down so you could get some sleep."
You kiss his bicep before cupping his cheek and moving to your tiptoes to press a soft, loving kiss to his lips. Your thumb sweeps along part of his mustache, which is a little more fuller now that you both are more occupied with a newborn than any kind of maintenance on yourselves. Brushing some curls from his forehead, you cup his cheek again, "I'm so lucky to have you."
Frankie leans into your palm, pressing a gentle kiss to it, "I'm the lucky one, amor," his fingertips lightly trailing along the soft skin of your thigh.
When your daughter coos a bit in her sleep, both of you look to her in awe. This precious baby born from the love you have for one another.
"We're both lucky."
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absurdthirst · 7 months
Text
A Bumpy Road {Frankie Morales x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 12.6k
Warnings: Fake marriages, mentions of emotional alienation/affairs, fighting, drunk driving, death, feelings, injuries, mentions of surgeries, confessions, oral sex, vaginal sex, mentions of family planning
Comments: In order to stay on his team and keep his toxic ex in-laws from gaining custody of his daughter, Frankie does something crazy. He marries you, his friend. You need insurance and he needs someone to care for his daughter, ignoring how he feels about you until he ends up hurt on his deployment.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
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You have an idea, it’s outrageous, outlandish and completely insane but it might just actually work. You bite your lip nervously as Frankie paces in front of you, swiping his hands through his hair and it’s unusual to not hear the rasp of the shorter military high and tight he used to wear. Since being accepted into Delta, he had been allowed to grow his hair out past normal regulation, the need to look less like the soldier necessary for the ops he would be running. Unless he has to give up his entire career because of the three year old little girl currently napping in her room upstairs. 
“How could they do this?” Frankie hisses, angry and frustrated. Scared that they actually could take his daughter from him, terrified they would. “They can’t do this. I just- I asked for help while I was deployed! Not to take her from me!” It had been a mistake to reach out, to talk about his upcoming deployment. The papers had been delivered by a court server today. He was being sued for full custody of his little girl by his late wife’s family. 
Your mind races, trying to talk yourself out of the crazy idea but you can’t. It would work. Better yet, people who knew you would believe it. And Frankie could prove that he had care in place for his daughter, stability. The military would get off his back and his former in-laws would have no case. The bonus would be that you would have health insurance for the first time in years. “Frank.” You murmur quietly, following his frantic pacing. “Frankie!” You call louder, getting his attention this time as he stops mid-turn to look at you. “Marry me.”
His eyes widen, absorbing your words, and he thinks back on how damn long he’s been in love with you. It’s hard to think about but he nods, knowing that this is smart. You need your meds and the insurance will get them for you. He needs a caretaker for his daughter that isn’t his toxic former in-laws. “You’re a genius.” He declares and cups your cheek to kiss your forehead. “God, how - you are a goddamn angel, baby. That’s perfect. We can - we can get married before I deploy and then Ana can have someone - are you sure you want to take over caring for her? I know you babysit and when I’m away but - full time? It’s a lot of work.” He says, lowering his hands from your cheeks.
“I won’t lie and say that I’m not nervous.” You chuckle and melt at the soft, grateful expression in his warm eyes. “But she’s a good kid. And there’s the daycare, so I can still work.” The more you think about it, the more that you know it’s the right thing to do. “Ana loves me, and I know you don’t want to lose her or give up your spot on the team. The boys need you.” The fact that you have very strong feelings for Frankie doesn’t need to factor into this. “I say we get married quickly so you can let your in-laws know that it’s a losing case.”
Frankie can’t believe you’ve agreed to do this and he knows he will owe you for the rest of his life. He can’t lose his daughter but he also can’t leave his friends, his brothers, to go into danger without him. “I want you to pick a dress. I’ll pay for everything. Rings too. I- I want it to be us and Ana. No one else. She loves you already and I- are you sure you want to do this?” He asks, reaching for your hands to squeeze them.
“It’s not completely altruistic.” You remind him, knowing that he is aware of your need for health insurance. “I want to do this. I know we need to take care of things, power of attorney and things like that, but I want to help you, Francisco.” You promise quietly, imagining a small courthouse wedding with the handsome soldier. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t sure. We’re friends. It’ll be easy.” 
Frankie nods, knowing you know him inside out, even the dark things he hides from the outside world. The dark sins he has committed. He leans in to kiss your forehead, “I think so too, I- I can’t believe I’m saying this but - but I can’t wait to marry you.” He smiles as he pulls back. You are his best friend and as much as he tries to deny it, he’s in love with you. He knows you’re better off in the dark on that particular sin. It wouldn’t benefit you to know that. His late wife knew and that’s what killed her. 
**** 
“Janet, please. Just calm down, sweetheart.” Frankie pleads, following his wife down the hall. Ana is crying, woken up by the screaming, and Frankie is desperate to deny what Janet is accusing him of. 
“You’re fucking in love with her! Just say it. I- you didn’t love me. Did you? It’s always been her.” Janet screams down the hall and Frankie shakes his head, unable to answer. When Janet got pregnant, he was just about to be called up for a deployment and he knew he had to do the right thing and marry her. He loved her, he did. In his own way. He can’t love her like he does you, though. You are the sun, the moon, the stars. Everything to him. He had done the right thing and married Janet but she was never you. When Ana came along, she became his world and he stayed for her, fought for her. 
When Frankie doesn’t answer again, Janet shakes her head. “I knew it. You bastard! You shouldn’t - you shouldn’t have married me. It’s over Frank. It’s done. I- fuck. I gotta - I gotta go.” Janet says, rushing towards the front door. 
“Wait. Don’t. You can’t fucking drive. You’ve had three glasses of wine.” Frankie growls, having long accepted that his wife became an alcoholic in his absence, drinking when the nights were lonely and Ana wouldn’t stop crying. He didn’t realize it until he came home from that first tour. 
“I’m fucking leaving otherwise if I stay in this house, I’m gonna kill Ana.” She threatens and Frankie growls, grabbing her purse. 
“You fucking - threatening the life of our daughter? You- I know you’re hurt but you’re a - get the fuck out. Go kill yourself on the goddamn road for all I care.” He growls, shoving her purse at her. She doesn’t say a word as she leaves and Frankie watches her drive down the street. 
Little did he know that he’d be getting a call an hour later to tell him that his wife had died in an accident, driven into a tree. He was upset, mostly for Ana, for the mother she’d never get to have. Janet looked after her well-being but was never affectionate or caring. Now she has no mother at all. “I’ll be right there.” He promises the cop and the next number he dials is yours. “Hey. Yeah, um, I know it’s late but can you come over? I need someone to watch Ana for me. I’ll explain when you get here.” He says and hangs up after you agree. His wife just died but his heart still beats at the sound of your voice. He’s committed many sins but tonight might just be the worst of all. 
****
“You don’t need to be nervous.” You remind yourself as you look in the mirror, hands trembling as you lean towards the glass and smudge a little more of your eyeliner into place. “It’s Frankie, he’s not- he doesn’t actually love you.” That stings more than you thought it would as you wear the white tea dress you had picked out to get married in. Feeling like a bride and yet not one all at the same time. It’s going to be just ten minutes before Frankie will be here to drive you to the courthouse to exchange vows. The marriage certificate is ready to be signed by the magistrate that will officially declare you Mrs. Francisco Javier Morales. The knock on the door startles you, and you look towards it before glancing back in the mirror. “It’s time.” 
When you answer the door, Frankie’s breath is taken away from him. You look devastatingly beautiful. “You look so pwetty.” Ana grins up at you and you look at her in her little white flower girl dress that is similar to yours, her hair done in what looks like an attempt to style it by Frankie. 
“She’s right. You look - you look incredible.” He says, his dark eyes meeting yours and he offers you a boyish grin.
Frankie is wearing his uniform, you had asked him to but it’s impossible to think of anything but how handsome he is wearing his medals. “Not nearly as incredible as you.” You reach out and your finger strokes his jaw. “You shaved.” Your finger grazes his lip and you pull back, aware that if you keep touching him, you will want to kiss him for real. “Every single woman in town is pissed at me today.” You promise. 
Frankie suppresses the shiver that runs through him at the way you caress his face and he knows it’s going to be hard not confessing how he feels. He knows you only think of him as a dear friend and even if, by some miracle, you didn’t, you wouldn’t be able to look past his sins. He’s not good enough for you. He blushes and clears his throat, “alongside every man.” He counters and Ana tugs on your hand, “daddy got me petals.” She holds up the basket that she insisted Frankie get her. She had heard about flower girls from her friends in pre-school and she insisted Frankie let her throw the petals down before you walk down the aisle. “I know it’s only a courthouse wedding but Ana wanted to make it special.”
“Thank you, Ana.” You bend down to look the little girl in the eyes, knowing how excited that she is. For her, this is exciting and fun, something that she will play with her friends the next time she sees them in school. “You are the prettiest little flower girl I have ever seen.” You promise, making her smile and you reach out to cup her little cheek. “Now I know your daddy talked to you about it, but how would you like me to come stay with you and daddy? Help him make breakfast and do your hair? Would you like that?” 
Ana nods, her eyes wide, “yes! Daddy never gets my hair right.” She says with a pout, “are you my new mommy?” She asks and Frankie had spoken to her about this. How you were going to come live with them, how you were going to be his new friend and that her mommy was still with her. He hates how selfish Janet was to drink and drive and the guilt he felt when she died after he all but forced her into the car, but there was something in her eyes. He’s seen that look before. She would’ve hurt Ana and he couldn’t allow that to happen.
“I-” You frown slightly, unsure of what to say to the young girl. “I would like to be your friend. A good friend. But I also don’t want you to feel like I am trying to become your mommy unless you would like that.” It might be a little more than a three year old understands, but you don’t want her to feel like she has to forget Janet. 
Frankie kneels beside his daughter, “your mommy is your angel, remember? She’s gonna look after you.” Frankie smiles and says your name, “she’s gonna be your friend when daddy is gone fighting the bad guys, okay? You are safe with her and she loves you as much as daddy does.” Frankie knows his job is much more complicated than good guys and bad guys but it’s how he can explain to a three year old that he’s gonna be gone for so long. He hates missing huge parts of her life but he can’t let his team down. 
“Okay daddy.” She hands him the basket and steps closer to wrap her small arms around your neck.
You smile at the two of them together and you know that you are doing the right thing. You are giving Frankie the opportunity to keep his daughter here with him so he can come home to her when he can. “Are you ready to go throw the petals down, sweetheart?” You ask softly. “I bet daddy will take us out for ice cream after.” 
Ana grins and nods, squealing “lets go!” 
Frankie chuckles and stands up, holding his hand out to his daughter and he winks at you, “lets go get hitched, baby.” You smile and he holds his arm out to you, guiding his girls to his truck. 
****
Ana beams as she tosses the flowers on the floor, Frankie would say in heaps more than scattered but he chuckles and she comes to stand beside him. When you walk down the small aisle, Frankie exhales shakily, his heart pounding and he’s certain you can tell he’s sweating. When you stand in front of him, you beckon Ana to stand between you and Frankie knows he’s made the right choice for his daughter. It’s always been you.
The magistrates ceremony is brief and you barely remember any of it, grinning like an idiot as you stand there with Frankie, imagining if this were actually real. “Do you take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?” He asks, making you swallow harshly before you squeeze his hands. “I do.” You promise clearly.
Frankie nearly yells “I do” but manages to control himself, staring into your eyes as the officiant declares you husband and wife. “You may now kiss the bride.” Frankie knows this could be the only chance he gets to kiss you so he leans in to cup your cheek, pressing his lips to yours and he is firm but not demanding. It’s not brief but it doesn’t drag, despite Frankie wanting to pull you against him and slide his tongue into your mouth. This is an agreement between friends and nothing more. He pulls back and smiles, looking down at Ana between you who looks happy. This feels right. After signing the marriage certificate, Frankie takes your hand to guide you and Ana back to his truck. “I - I hope you don’t mind…it was supposed to be a surprise but the guys put together some food and drinks at Tom and Molly’s.
“Really?” Your mouth drops open in shock and you smile when he nods. “Oh my god, that’s so sweet.” You gush before you frown. “Wait.” Twisting in your seat, you watch as Frankie buckles Ana into her car seat. “Do they- uh, know what the situation is?” You ask softly, unsure of what you can say around them. 
Frankie shakes his head. “No.” He finishes pulling the strap up Ana’s chest and looks over at you. “I wanted them to be able to truthfully say they believe it is real.” He explains, making you nod in understanding. There’s the possibility that Frankie’s in-laws could still come for custody or challenge the validity of the marriage and it’s better if everyone thought this was real. “Got it. Happy newlyweds.”
Frankie is grateful that you’re going along with this. He knows it benefits you too but it’s a lot to ask, to pretend to be married to him. The drive to Tom’s house is quiet and when you knock on the front door, Molly opens it with a “congratulations!” You grin and Frankie holds your hand and Ana’s as he walks inside. All of his team are there, several of your mutual friends, and Frankie is blushing when they shout “congratulations.”
“Hot damn!” Benny bellows, making you automatically grin as the younger Miller brother bounds into view. “Fish got married! You son of a bitch, you hid it from us!” He tackles Frankie in a bear hug while Molly pulls you in for a  hug. “What? Afraid she’d see me in my dress uniform and run off with me?” Ben teases, pulling back to grin at his friend before he scoops you up in a hug. “She wouldn’t have done that? Would you, sweetheart? You’ve been in love with ole Fish for years.” Benny teases.
Frankie picks Ana up, not wanting her to be excluded and he tries to ignore the comment, aware that people have thought you and him have been in love with each other for years. It’s true on his side but he doesn’t fool himself into thinking you love him as more than a friend. “Shut up Benny, my wife has good taste.” He jokes and Pope walks over. 
“Couldn’t pick a best man so you decided to do it solo?” Pope jokes and Frankie gives him a one armed hug. 
“Uncle Pope!” Ana cheers as Santi takes her into his arms, “hey chiquita.” He kisses the cheek of his goddaughter. 
Frankie smiles, turning towards Will. “You finally did it, huh? You convinced her to marry you, you son of a bitch.” He chuckles and Frankie hugs his friend. 
“Guess so.” He grins as you greet your friends and they admire the ring Frankie had bought you. He had spent quite a bit of money on it, wanting to make something about this situation real.
The party is fantastic but after a few hours you are ready to leave. Not because anyone is rude, but the jokes about you being pregnant before Frankie leaves for deployment and giving Ana a sibling just curl in your stomach. Knowing that you are never going to have that with your husband because he didn’t marry you for love. He married you for Ana and to fight off his in-laws. With the little girl passed out against her father’s shoulder, you use that as an excuse. “We need to get her home. Today was a big day for her.” You tell Molly when she offers to keep Ana overnight so you and Frankie can have some time alone. “I think we will settle in better if she’s there with us.”
Frankie nods, aware that he won’t be getting a wedding night. He’s not that stupid. He would never ever ask it of you. “She’s right. I want Ana to feel settled since we are leaving soon.” He says and rubs your back with his free hand. “Let’s go, sweetheart.” He murmurs and he keeps Ana in his arms while he says goodbye to his friends, knowing he will see them soon.
In his truck, you look over after he’s pulled away from Tom and Molly’s. “We didn’t discuss sleeping arrangements.” You realize, rolling your eyes at yourself. “I can stay at my apartment until you leave, but I would rather Ana get used to me being there.” You admit. “Or I can stay in the guest room if you prefer? When Ana notices that we aren’t sleeping in the same bed, you can say that you don’t sleep well beside me? Or….” you bite your lip, imagining curling up next to him. “We are both adults. We can sleep next to each other, right? You have a king sized bed.” 
“We can share a bed. We are adults. Not like we haven’t before.” He reminds you of when he used to get drunk and end up in your tiny one bed apartment, seeking solace and a late meal after a night out with the boys. “Besides, I think it would be best if Ana thinks this is real. I want her to think that this is real so she is happy with you. Not that I don’t think you’re not - you know what I’m saying, right?” He asks as he drives to his house.
“I know what you mean.” Reaching out, you pat his hand and give him a smile when he looks over at you. “It’s a good thing we’ve started carting some of my things over, right?” You have every intention of selling most of your things, since Frankie’s is already established and your furniture holds no sentimental attachment for you. “We can go get my ID and everything tomorrow. Get me set up in the system as your wife?”
Frankie nods, “yeah. We will sort everything out tomorrow.” His heart pounds in his chest at hearing you call yourself his wife and he swallows harshly, knowing that nothing can be done. For your sake and Ana’s. He can’t fuck this up by letting his feelings get involved. He sighs and pulls into his driveway, killing the engine and he’s careful as he takes Ana out of her car seat.
As Frankie takes Ana to lay her down, you take the bag that Frankie had brought over into the master bathroom so you can change out of your wedding dress into some comfortable pajamas. They aren’t fancy or sexy but you had bought some new, cute sleeping clothes since you would be sharing a house with Frankie. Washing the makeup off and taking your hair out of the careful style you had put it in for the ceremony. Looking more like your normal self when you open the door to find your new husband in the bedroom you will share. 
Frankie is carefully hanging up his uniform when he sees you and his heart clenches at how fucking beautiful you look. He feels guilty that he’s got you in this situation, in a marriage of convenience when you deserve all the love in the world. He strips down to his boxers, pulling a plain shirt out to pull on. “You want some water?” He asks, clearing his throat and you nod so he ventures into the kitchen, exhaling shakily to force himself to calm down. This isn’t a real wedding night. “Here you go, sweetheart.” He says and hands you the glass.
“Thank you.” You sit on the end of the bed and take a sip of the water, trying to calm your nerves and you sigh. “I know that this is- that we aren’t actually together, but I want you to know that I’m not going to embarrass you while you are deployed.” You tell him. It's been a long time since you’ve dated but just because you aren’t really Frankie’s wife in all senses doesn’t mean you are going to mess around with anyone. “You don’t have to worry about that.” 
Frankie comes to sit down beside you, reaching for your hand. “I- I know this isn’t easy but if you do meet someone…you need to tell me and we end this. I shouldn’t - I don’t want to get in the way of the rest of your life. I love you - for - for doing this for me, and I will never be able to repay you. You’ve helped me keep Ana and I’ll forever be in your debt. I can’t - I can’t hold you back if you find someone and want to live your own life.” It kills him to say it, hating the thought of you with anyone else but he can’t be selfish, not when you’ve done so much for him.
It’s hard not to immediately assure him that you would never meet anyone else. Not when you are in love with him and no one has ever stood up against Frankie in your heart. Instead, you nod. “And I want you to do the same thing. You deserve to be happy, Frankie and when you meet someone that does that for you….” You give him a weak smile and go for a joke. “It will be the easiest divorce in the history of divorces.”
Frankie chuckles softly, his heart sinking but he ignores that and leans in to kiss your cheek. “Let’s get some sleep. It’s been a long day and I know Ana will be waking us up with excitement to have our first day together. I want to do as much as I can with her before I leave. Tomorrow, let’s go get you in the system and go for breakfast.” He says and lets go of your hand so he can slide under the covers.
Frankie has his side of the bed established, so you climb in on the other side. Knowing that you don’t mind it and you are thankful that his bed is comfortable. “It was a good wedding, Frankie.” You murmur as you lay down beside him. “Thank you. For not thinking that I was crazy.” You grin at him, knowing that he is also thankful you are willing to do this. “Goodnight hubby.”
“Goodnight wifey.” Frankie chuckles, leaning over to turn the lamp off and you curl up, falling asleep pretty quickly. He doesn’t. Staying awake and listening to your soft snores, murmurs, and breathing. His heart aches for you, to curl around you and breathe you in. He can’t ruin this. You don’t feel the same way, you want the insurance and to help him out. It takes a while but eventually he falls asleep, unaware that he had ended up doing the thing he was trying to avoid: curling around you.
Waking up in Frankie’s arms is a special kind of hell. Because you know that this is only because he’s asleep and not because he’s decided that he wants you in the middle of the night. Even if the very prominent hardness pressed against your ass makes you want to pretend that he does. The good thing is that Frankie is a heavy sleeper when he’s home so you manage to wiggle away from him before you wake him up. “Morning.” You huff when he starts to stir. “I have to pee, go back to sleep.” You urge softly.
He grumbles, hugging the pillow you were sleeping on, inhaling your scent from it, and he falls asleep again, wanting to make the most of this time at home. When you walk into the kitchen, you decide to get a start on making some coffee and eventually, Frankie wakes up, rolling onto his back and willing his morning wood to disappear. When the mental attempt is fruitless, he gets into the shower. Groaning as he wraps his hand around his cock, he remembers the dream he was having of you underneath him, celebrating your wedding night for real.
In the kitchen, you are reminding yourself that Frankie is just a man who wakes up with a hardon. It doesn’t mean that he wants to throw you up on the counter and fuck you. Deciding that you will make a small breakfast for Ana, giving Frankie some space and allowing you to cool down.
“Fuck. Oh fuck.” Frankie groans, jerking himself as his cum paints the shower wall. He’s lost track of how many times he’s imagined fucking you while in this shower. After cleaning off the shower and himself, Frankie brushes his teeth and shaves, getting dressed just in time for you to finish Ana’s breakfast. “Thank you for doing that.” Frankie says and fixes himself a cup of coffee after he sees you already have a cup.
“Of course.” Ana squawks over the baby monitor, obviously just waking up and you smile. “Do you want to get her or do you want me to start getting into a routine?” You ask, before you answer your own question. “Let me get her. I’ll be right back.”
Frankie watches you go, sipping his coffee and smiling as he listens to Ana sleepily say good morning on the monitor before she realizes you’re still there and she is excited, telling you how she wants to make cupcakes and show you all her dolls. It makes Frankie feel comforted that his little girl will be looked after while he’s gone. “Morning baby girl.” He greets her when she walks into the kitchen, eyes still sleepy and he picks her up to kiss her cheek. 
“Daddy. I want pancakes.” She demands and Frankie chuckles, “we will get pancakes later baby.” He says your name, “she made you some eggs for now.”
Ana frowns slightly and shakes her little head. “I no want eggs.” She pouts, crossing her arms and you try not to smile at the ferocious little look on her face. 
“Oh, well..” you sigh softly, “I guess you don’t have to eat the eggs. Even though they give you lots of energy to play.” You tell her softly. “Especially since this is just supposed to be first breakfast.”
“First breakfast?” She pipes up and Frankie nods, “yeah. Pancakes are second breakfast. But only if you eat the first breakfast. You wanna show off all your dolls, right baby girl? You gotta have energy to do that and eggs give you that.” Frankie explains to his daughter who lowers her arms. 
“With ketchup.” She insists, walking over to you.
Laughing, you turn back towards the refrigerator. “Eggs with ketchup, got it.” You don’t miss the way Frankie winces and you wonder if it’s something that she had learned from Janet. Frankie’s first wife had never hidden the fact that she hadn’t liked you, so you had tried to give her the distance she wanted, though you weren’t going to stop being friends with the guys or Frankie for her. “After you eat, I’ll help you get dressed and we will do your hair, how does that sound?” 
Frankie is reminded of Janet, who he used to make fun of for having eggs with ketchup and she used to make it for Ana when she started eating solids. “Can I have braids?” She asks, wanting to have her hair different from the styles Frankie just about manages to put together. “Of course, sweetheart.” You say and Frankie smiles as he watches Ana hug your leg.
Breakfast goes easy for Ana and you leave Frankie to clean up the kitchen while you and Ana go to get ready. The young girl sitting extremely still for a three year old, excited for her braids. You don’t blame her. The dolly she had introduced you two had braids and she wanted to look like her. Making her gasp in the mirror when she looks at her reflection.
When Ana comes out, squealing happily about her braids, Frankie ooohs and awws and tells her how pretty she looks. He winks at you, “you did a good job, baby.” He says and he doesn’t even think about the nickname he calls you and Ana admires the braids. “You wanna get ready and I’ll entertain the little lady?” Frankie suggests.
“Thanks.” You nod and try not to take his nickname to heart. It’s just practice for when you are in public and around others. “I’ll try not to be too long,” you promise, turning and heading towards the bedroom where your bag is. You need to shower and plan on doing just basic makeup for your ID photo.
****
Frankie glances over at you while he drives, admiring your profile in the sun and his gaze drops down to his ring on your finger. It makes his heart twist that he didn’t propose to you properly but again, he’s reminded that this isn’t real. “You got everything?” He asks while looking in the mirror at Ana who is admiring her Barbie.
“Social security, birth certificate, marriage certificate, driver’s license.” You go through all your documents and grin. “Yep. Although now I need to change all of that too. To reflect the last name Morales.” Your stomach twists pleasantly and you remind yourself that you are a Morales in name only. “Plus a passport change. That’s the one I dread.”
“It’ll be fine. You’ll have the insurance soon. Do you have enough meds to last?” He asks, knowing you have been halving the dose and he hates that, seeing how it has taken a toll on you. You aren’t your usual self and he wants to see you’re okay before he leaves.
“Yes.” You bite your lip and reach for his hand on the gear shifter. “Thank you Frankie. This is- I am grateful. I hated choosing between my medications and eating sometimes.” You hate how expensive it is to live when you don’t have health insurance and your job does not provide employer insurance since you are technically a contractor.
Frankie exhales, hating that you have to even choose. “Fucking country.” He huffs under his breath, knowing that he fights for freedom but those freedoms don’t allow you to have what you need when you desperately need it. He pulls into the parking lot of the administration building and comes around to open your door, helping you out before he moves to unbuckle Ana.
“Thank you.” You feel your cheeks heat up from Frankie’s attention to manners. You grab the diaper bag just in case and the three of you make your way to the first office to have you officially added to Frankie’s record as his wife and dependent. You will have to memorize his social security number because that is how they will give you the services you need from now on.
Frankie remembers adding Janet to his file when she was newly pregnant before he was first deployed and he squeezes your hand as you walk out, officially added as his dependent. He will call his lawyer later to tell them about the wedding so he can get Janet’s parents to drop their custody case. For now, he’s going to take his family to breakfast. 
****
“Silly daddy!” Ana giggles when he puts the empty glass to his eye and pretends to look at her through it. Pancakes eaten and bellies full, he hasn’t been this happy in a long time, glancing at you when he lowers the glass from his face.
Frankie is such a good father and it makes your heart pound. Imagining that you are a real family and wishing that you could be looking forward to giving Ana a little brother or sister. “Daddy is silly.” You tease, sending him a smile.
He chuckles, reaching for your hand so he can caress the ring with his thumb. “Daddy is silly!” Ana giggles and leans into Frankie’s side. He cuddles her with his free arm, knowing it’s going to be hard to leave but he has to, he can’t abandon his brothers. 
**** 
“Is she asleep?” You ask as Frankie walks into the kitchen. 
“Out like a light.” He tells you and groans in appreciation when you hand him the bottle of beer. He leaves in a few days and tomorrow he begins to prep for his departure. He has one last night to spend with you in relaxation. 
“You wanna finish that show?” You ask and he nods, watching you dish up the pasta that you’ve been cooking after giving Ana her simple buttered noodles earlier. 
“Sure baby.” The nickname comes naturally now and it slips off of his tongue without thought.
Your evenings have been so natural, perfect together. The friendship between the two of you had made it easy to be around each other and the only thing that you are struggling with is to not try to jump Frankie. He’s so sexy, especially when he comes home in his uniform. Waiting until he’s asleep to touch yourself while you are laying next to him at night or using your toy in the shower before Ana gets up is the only relief that you are getting. Bringing the pasta over to the couch, you sit down beside him and hand him his bowl. “Hopefully we figure out if they are going to get together this episode. I don’t want to wait until next season to find out.” 
“Probably not. It’s the waiting that makes the end result sweeter, don’t you think?” He asks, thanking you for the food and he hits play on the show. “Fuck, this is good.” He groans after swallowing the first bite. You are a damn good cook and he is going to miss your food when he’s got MREs on the menu. You eat in companionable silence, it’s comfortable and he loves that he can just be himself around you. Janet’s parents were furious to hear Frankie had married you, having heard from their daughter about how she thought he loved you more than her. Still, they didn’t have a case anymore so it was dropped
“Oh, I hope you don’t mind.” You start as you turn towards him. “I told Ana that we will drop you off together. She wants to see you off and I couldn’t say no. I think it will help her understand why daddy has to be gone for a long time.” You know this will be the first deployment that she will remember and you want it to be as good as it can for her. “I also got you one of those recordable books. You know? The ones that we saw in the toy store? That way you can read her bedtime story anytime she’s missing daddy.” 
Frankie swears he falls in love with you even more in that moment. Watching you with his daughter, how caring you are, how much you love her, it makes him want to stay and just spend the rest of his life with you, not missing a moment. When you were in the kitchen baking cookies with Ana last weekend, he imagined you pregnant with his child and it’s almost too easy to envision. “Yeah? That’s a great idea. I’ll do that tomorrow when she’s napping. I-I’m worried that she’s gonna forget all about me.” He admits his deepest fear, knowing he could potentially leave his daughter an orphan if he were to die on this deployment. It keeps him awake at night.
“I’m not going to let that happen.” You promise him softly, reaching over and taking his hand. “You have your will set up, you know I will make sure that if something happens, she knows all about her wonderful father, Francisco Morales.” You bite your lip. “Maybe you can record some videos for her? Send them to my phone to show her when she’s needing to see your face?” You know that video chatting will be sparse, sometimes impossible, but you want to make sure that she remembers him. “And we are going to be making you care packages.”
He smiles, unshed tears stinging in his eyes as he squeezes your hand. “You are amazing. I- I know this is - this is hard but I want you to know that I love you. You’re my best friend and I couldn’t do any of this without you.” He admits, “I owe you everything, baby.” He blinks and a tear escapes, allowing himself a moment of vulnerability, knowing that you’d never think of him as weak or not enough. He trusts you implicitly.
Your heart aches because you know that he doesn’t mean ‘love’ like you wish that he would. Still, you swallow down your feelings and lean over to kiss his cheek. “I love you too, Frankie.” You promise him quietly. You do, you love him with everything that you are and you always will. “I promise you that I will hold down the fort until you can get back home.”
**** 
It’s early and Frankie knows Ana is sleepy but she insists she comes to say goodbye to her daddy. The enormous hangar is full of families saying goodbye to their soldiers, some for the first time, others are well practiced in this. Frankie adjusts his pack over his shoulder when he sees his team. Tom saying goodbye to Molly and the girls, Will and Benny saying goodbye to their mom. Pope saying goodbye to his current girlfriend. “Come here, baby girl.” Frankie says, bending down to pick Ana up after setting his pack down once he’s standing with the team, not wanting to tear up in case it upsets his daughter more than it should.
“Daddy, I don’t want you to go.” Ana sniffles and you reach over to rub her little back. She had been very brave while Frankie was packing and had even stuffed a picture she had drawn for him in one of the pockets. “I want you to stay with mommy and me.” 
Frankie has mixed feelings, so happy that Ana is comfortable enough to call you mommy but he’s sad that she doesn’t remember Janet. As much as he resented her mother for what she became, he wants Ana to know her mother. Your eyes widen slightly and he knows he will email you to discuss this when he can. Now isn’t the time or place. “I know, baby girl.” He kisses her hair, “but I can’t stay. I gotta go fight bad guys, remember? You’ll be safe here with mommy and I promise you, I’ll come home as soon as I can. I will call you as many times as I can. I love you. So much.” He chokes a little and swallows the lump in his throat.
You know that it’s important for you to kiss Frankie goodbye, everyone around would expect it. You lean in and kiss his cheek. “I’m going to miss you. We are going to miss you. Take care of yourself please.” You beg him quietly. “Come home to us.” 
Frankie doesn’t know if he will come back and he nudges his nose against yours, “I- can I kiss you goodbye? Properly?” He asks, knowing it’s important for him to show you are his wife to anyone watching. You nod, unable to speak, and he cups your cheek, pressing his lips against yours. It’s brief but he tries to pour as much into it as possible. Ana clings to him as he nudges his nose against yours again before he pulls back. “I’m going to miss you, baby.” He tells you, adjusting Ana on his hip and he gets the minute warning to say goodbye.
Taking Ana, both you and she give Frankie a tearful goodbye, another fierce hug before he is walking away. His daughter is clinging to you as you both wave frantically as he boards a bus to take them to the plane. “Okay, baby girl.” You murmur softly, stroking her back as the little girl tucks her face against your neck. “We’re going to be okay. We’ll talk to daddy soon.” 
Frankie looks back at you before he boards the bus. Walking away is the hardest thing he has to do but he does it because he cannot turn back. He has to be there with his team. With a sigh, he steps onto the bus and takes a seat, unable to tear his eyes away from you and Ana as the bus pulls away. Pope slaps his shoulder, “they will be okay, hermano.” He promises and Frankie silently prays he’s right.
****
“Hello?” You quickly answer the phone, hoping that it is Frankie, letting you know that he’s gotten to his base overseas. “Frank, is that you?” You fumble for the light beside the bed and sit up. It’s late, or early but you don’t care. Ana groans next to you, having slept in the same bed for the last couple of nights since Frankie had left. “Hello?”
“Hey baby.” Frankie smiles against the phone when he hears your voice. He’s aware of how late it is there but he wants to hear your voice. He’s going to his op brief in the morning, diving straight into it, and he doesn’t know how long he will be dark for. 
“Hey.” You reply sleepily and Frankie’s heart twists, remembering how you’d curl into his chest during the night. 
“Just wanted to let you know I’m safe. Fucking cold here right now. How are you? How’s Ana?”
“She’s good.” You look over at his spot to see his daughter sprawled across his pillow and taking up even more room than he does if that's possible. “She’s sleeping in your spot. Wanted to cuddle daddy’s pillow.” You murmur quietly so you don’t disturb her. “I won’t let her get used to it, but she needs some comfort right now.”
“I miss her already. So much. I, uh, I want you to give her the bear tomorrow.” He says. He’d gone to the mall to Build A Bear and recorded his voice, telling Ana how much he loves her, and he wants her to have it now that he’s gone. The bear is wearing a uniform like daddy does. “How are you doing? I know it’s a lot to look after her alone.”
“Taking it one day at a time, baby.” You tell him. Thank god for her pre-school, allowing for you to work without having to entertain her. “Molly promised to come over and help out, we will get along just fine.” Reaching over, you pull up her covers and smile when she frowns just like Frankie does. “The bear will be the first thing she sees when she wakes up, I promise.”
“Good. I- I’m heading out any day now. Not sure when, but I’ll be dark for a while until we come back to base. I- I don’t know what’s gonna happen out there but I want you to know that you and Ana mean everything to me.” He confesses, wanting to leave you with that as his time is nearly up.
“We’ll be waiting to hear from you and putting together your first care package.” You hate how your stomach twists but you put on a brave front for him. 
“Sounds good. I gotta go now, sweetheart. I- I’ll talk to you soon.” He promises, aware of how much he wants to say to you but he can’t. He has to stay strong and not drag you into his stupid emotions. “Bye Frankie.” You murmur and he smiles, “bye baby.” He says and hangs up, closing his eyes and he knows this is going to be harder than ever.
**
You knew that this wasn’t going to be easy. Living in his house, raising his daughter. But it has moments where you can’t imagine anything else. Packing up care packages with his favorite things inside for him to have a bit of home and shipping them off faithfully. Living with your phone nearby at all times, because you don’t want to miss his calls. They are few and far between, but emails are regular, making you create a file folder to keep them all in. It’s been three months and you are finally settled into being Frankie’s dependent.
Frankie devours every email, every photo, every damn video you send of Ana. He wishes you’d include photos of you - not sexual, he just misses your smile. “Baby girl, daddy misses you.” He tells Ana on the video chat, back on base after a few hard hitting missions and he’s glad to see his daughter’s face. “Mommy. Give daddy a kiss!” Ana demands, having been kissing the phone to Frankie herself making his heart yearn for his family.
“Hey!” You light up when you see Frankie on the screen. Your hand automatically goes to your hair. You haven’t done it and you are wearing leggings and one of his t-shirts while you clean. Not your best look. “It’s good to see you, baby. How are you?” You think he looks tired but you don’t want to say that. You know he’s been out of communication so he’s been outside the wire.
God, you’re gorgeous. Frankie inhales sharply and bites his lip, “I’m good. Exhausted. We think we are gonna be sent out again. It’s - it’s rough.” He admits, running his hand through his hair. He realizes you are wearing his shirt and his cock twitches, knowing he’s gonna imagine you wearing just that when he goes to shower. “I miss you.” Frankie says softly.
“I miss you too.” Admitting that is easy. You miss your friend. The man you have fallen in love with. “Ana has a playdate on Saturday. We are going to Chuck E Cheese with one of the little girls from her preschool and her mom. Her dad is on the deployment with you.” You ramble, filling him in on all the small things about the time he’s been out of communication. “And we started a countdown for your tentative return.” You grin and angle the camera towards the calendar, showing where you’ve been marking off days.
Frankie hates that you’re waiting on him but he loves it at the same time, having a family to come home to. It keeps him going. It allows him to put his entire being into making sure he flies the team out of danger. It motivates him. “Hopefully I won’t be a day late coming back to you.” He says, asking you how your work is. Menial conversation but it means the world to him, he loves how simple it is to hear about your day but compared to the horrors he sees, he appreciates it.
You know that the call will have to end soon. Plenty of others want to talk to their loved ones. “We are planning on mailing you another package since Benny ate all your Oreos.” You laugh. “I put in a package for him so he doesn’t steal yours .”
Frankie grins, “thanks baby. I could’ve killed him when he bragged about stealing my cookies with the goddamn crumbs in his teeth.” Frankie shakes his head and Ana rushes up to the phone. “Daddy! Mommy got me a Barbie!” She holds her new doll up and Frankie admires it, reminded of how good you are with her. He’s not sure what will happen in the long run. When you meet someone and want to divorce. It will kill him but he will do it. “Okay my loves. I gotta go. Ana, sweetheart, I love you.” He says and she blows him a kiss, “love you daddy.” He looks at you, “I love you too. I’ll call when I can.” He promises and you nod, “bye Frank.” You blow him a kiss and he knows he will be thinking of that all afternoon.
****
“Coming!” Drying your hands on a dish towel, you rush towards the door, wondering who it can be. Maybe Molly, she had said she would drop by. Your friendly smile freezes the second that you open the door and see uniforms. Heart sinking, you feel like you’re going to be sick. You’ve seen this scene in a movie way too many times. “No-“ you gasp out, making the one with the silver leaf on his lapels remove his hat- or cover as Frankie called it. 
“Mrs. Morales?” You can’t breathe, you can’t speak as you imagine the next words, praying that you are finding yourself in the middle of a nightmare. “I am sorry to report that your husband has been injured in combat. He was shot multiple times and is currently being flown to Germany. You are his medical power of attorney and we need you to consent to surgery for when he arrives.” His words almost sound like you’re underwater. “Mrs. Morales, do you understand?” He asks you with a frown.
You blink stupidly at him for several moments before his words sink in. “He’s alive?” You whisper, reaching out for his arm desperately. “Frankie’s alive? Yes, yes whatever they need.” You rush out, tears streaming down your face. “Oh god, Germany?” You swallow. “I need to be there. I need to go be with him.”
“We have already arranged for you to go to Germany. Pack your bag now and we will wait. There’s no time to waste.” He says and you nod, rushing into the house to the bedroom to frantically pack a bag, grabbing your passport, and you go into Ana’s room, grabbing things for her, and you are grateful that Frankie got her a passport in hopes of taking her to Chile to see his distant cousins one day. “Mommy? What’s wrong?” She asks with a frown after she stops playing.
“Honey.” Bending down, you brush Ana’s hair back. “Daddy - daddy got hurt. He’s going to be okay, but we have to go visit him. Cheer him up.” You don’t want to scare her, but how do you explain to a three year old that her dad was in surgery after getting shot. “Can you be a big girl and come with me now? We have to be good because it’s a long trip.”
“Daddy’s hurt?” She asks, her lower lip trembling and you nod, “yes but we are going to kiss his boo boos better, okay? Can you be a good girl and pick out some toys for us to take?” You ask, grabbing her backpack and she nods, picking up her favorite dolls to take on the trip. Once you’re all packed up, you alarm the house and lock it, stepping out to the men waiting for you.
It’s surreal, being driven to a plane that is scheduled to take off in just a few hours. Apparently they had delayed it and you’ll never know if it was them or providence that had you up in the air so quickly and on your way to Germany. Praying the entire time that Frankie would be okay as you tried to entertain Ana, worried what you might learn when you land.
****
“Morning baby.” Frankie smiles, kissing along your neck. 
“Hmmm. Morning.” You grind back against his hard cock and smile, “someone is eager to start the day.” 
Frankie chuckles, sliding his hand under the t-shirt you’re wearing to cup your tit. “Always when it involves you.” He rasps, pinching your nipple and you whimper when he slides his hand down your belly after letting go of your breast. It’s starting to round, you’ll have to announce that you’re pregnant soon and Frankie knows you won’t be able to wait long after you both tell Ana. She will spill the beans within hours. His hand slides lower to disappear into your panties and he wastes no time rubbing your clit. Your soft moan has him biting down on your shoulder, grinding against you. 
“Fuck, Frankie.” You whine softly and he smiles against your skin, “mmm love it when you moan my name. My beautiful wife.” He sighs and pushes two fingers inside of your wet cunt, making you turn your head to find his lips. His tongue slides into your mouth as he pumps his fingers, loving the way you push your pleasured sounds into his mouth to muffle them. It doesn’t take you long to cum, sensitive from the hormones, and he pushes you over the edge by twisting his wrist to press his thumb to your clit. “Cum for me.” He begs against your lips and you fall apart with a cry of his name. He kisses along your jaw, working you through it until he’s pulling his fingers out of you. 
There’s a beeping noise and he frowns, looking over at the nightstand. “Did you get a new alarm clock?” He asks and you shake your head. 
“No. Frankie? Frankie?” Your face blurs and he’s back into the void.
**
“Frankie.” You carry Ana, rushing through the hospital behind the nurse who is bringing you to his room. He’s out of surgery but he hasn’t woken up yet. The danger is still there but he’s stable. Tears stream down your face when you see him looking grey and still in the hospital bed, hooked up to the heart monitor. “Oh god, Frankie, we’re here.” You promise, rubbing Ava’s back. “It’s okay baby,” the little girl has turned away from the sight of her daddy in the bed and tucked her face into the crook of your neck. “He’s okay, he’s sleeping. Trying to feel better.” The doctor had explained his injuries and the surgery and you are so damn thankful he survived.
Ana whimpers, “is daddy okay?” She asks and your heart breaks at the fearful tone to the voice. 
“Yeah, baby girl. Daddy is gonna be fine.” You try to be positive, hoping that he’s going to be okay. 
**
You’re not sure how many hours have passed. Ana is asleep on the chair, curled up after the hospital staff brought her and you some food. Time will tell if Frankie wakes up, his head and chest bandaged and you can’t seem to look away from the rise and fall of his chest, the beeping of the heart monitor reminding you that he’s still here.  When he does wake up, he blinks, wincing at the bright light above, and he tries to remember what happened.
“Oh thank god.” You sigh breathlessly when you feel him shift, looking up to find his eyes slowly opening. “Frankie. It’s okay, take it easy.” You don’t want him to be startled or scared. Squeezing his hand gently. “It’s me. You’re in the hospital in Germany.” Trying to keep your voice soothing until he turns to head to look at you.
His throat is so dry. Like he has been stranded in the desert for days without water. He swallows, trying to speak, and he tries to remember what happened but all he can say is “love you.” His dreams were lucid, showing him what life could be like. A life spent with you and Ana. You as his wife, his actual wife, not some paper so you can get healthcare. He closes his eyes again, feeling exhausted.
“I love you too.” You cry, relieved that he’s okay. That he’s awake. The fear and the anxiety make you sob as you lean forward and kiss his hand. “I’m so- god, I’m so - god I was so worried.”
The nurse comes in to check on you at that moment and you turn towards her, “he’s awake.” The nurse nods and comes over to Frankie, ushering you away and pushing the button to summon the rest of the medical team to assess Frankie who is still half drugged up but aware of his surroundings.
You move over towards Ana, leaning over and checking on her while the doctors and nurses come into the room. Smiling as she cuddles the beat that had his voice recorded in it while she sleeps. You have to talk to him. You can’t do this. Not when you really love him. You can’t pretend you don’t want a real future with him while playing as his wife.
The medical team eventually filters out and the doctor approaches to tell you that Frankie’s vitals all look good. He was shot in the head but it was just scraped and didn’t go in. He had a bullet to the chest which punctured his lung but didn’t go near his heart, and a bullet to the shoulder. He’s lucky to be alive but he should make a recovery as long as he’s stable.
Listening to the doctor, you are so damn thankful for the fact that Frankie pulled through as well as he has, hugging yourself as you hear the prognosis and what will happen going forward with rehab for him. “Thank you.” You murmur as the doctor leaves, letting you move back towards Frankie. You can tell that he’s about to fall asleep as you take his hand again. “Baby, I-” you choke out the words, new tears falling and you just squeeze his hand again, unable to get the words out. Frankie’s eyes flutter closed again and his breathing evens out as he falls asleep again. 
****
“Daddy! Mommy wants pancakes.” Ana declares and Frankie chuckles, “oh she does? I guess it is Mother’s Day after all.” Frankie says as he slides the pancakes he was already making onto the plate. “Come on then. Let’s go.” Frankie says once he’s got everything and Ana opens the door for him to find you holding the baby, breastfeeding him. 
“Happy Mommy Day!” Ana declares and you smile, looking up at Frankie as he holds the tray. 
“Happy Mother’s Day.” He says and kisses your cheek even though he showed you how much he loves you this morning before the kids woke up. “I’ll hold him while you eat.” Frankie offers after his son pulls off of your breast. You nod and Frankie takes the baby into his arms, certain that this is a dream. The life he’s always wanted with the woman he’s always wanted.
“I’ve been thinking.” You smile sweetly at the picture Frankie paints holding your son. 
“Yeah baby? What have you been thinking about?” He asks, looking up from Miguel to find you grinning at him. His heart flutters every time he sees that smile. 
“I think that once the doctor clears me, we should try for another.” You admit, chuckling when his eyes widen. “Have a set of Irish twins. What do you think?” You had cursed him while you were pushing Miguel out, but immediately apologized once the pain had passed and your son was in your arms.
Frankie’s eyes widen, “really? You want another one so soon?” He asks and you nod, “yes. Yes. I don’t want to waste time. It’s precious.” He agrees, knowing how quick time flies. “Let’s do it.” He says and he is leaning in to kiss you. “I love you baby.” He murmurs and you hum into his mouth, making him smile.
****
Frankie squeezes your hand while he continues to rest. Letting you cry in solitude while Ana still sleeps curled up in the chair. “I love you Frankie.” You admit quietly. “I’ve always loved you. It’s why it was so easy to offer to marry you. I- I want you to recover for Ana, but for me too.” Leaning down, you kiss his hand again, wondering if he’s dreaming. If he is, you hope that it's a good dream.
Frankie blinks against the bright light again, annoyed that he’s been dragged away from his dream of making another baby with you. The dreams were so real he mourns the life he had in those dreams and he opens his eyes to find you crying while holding his hand. “Wha- baby?” He croaks, throat still so dry and he wonders why you are crying.
Looking up, you press your lips together as you hold back a sob. Leaning forward and pressing your lips to his cheek and forehead, taking care to keep away from his bandages. “Oh god baby, you're awake. I - I’m so glad.” You pull back, knowing he is probably confused. “You were- you were shot.” You explain quietly. “You’re in a hospital in Germany. I- Ana and I flew out as soon as possible. I have been so worried about you.” 
He frowns, finally getting his focus, and he looks at you. “Shot? Germany? The- the others?” He asks, suddenly worried about his team. Are they okay? Is anyone else hurt or dead? His heart monitor starts to beep rapidly and he squeezes your hand.
“Everyone else is fine.” You promise, having heard what happened from the officer who had taken you to the airfield to fly out. “You took fire while you were trying to get soldiers out of a heavy fire situation. You were shot, but managed to get them back to the base before you passed out right after you set down your chopper.” Your heart had stopped when you heard how he had barely made it back to base, but you could only be strong for him. 
He’s still fuzzy but he understands what you are saying. He nearly died. He remembers the panic in his mind when he was shot, thinking about leaving you and Ana behind. Fuck, he nearly died. Fuck. “I love you.” He tells you breathlessly. 
“I love you.” You murmur, tears streaming down your cheeks. 
“No. No. You don’t understand. I’m in love with you. I love you. I love you. I can’t - I can’t live without you. You’re my best friend. You’re my everything.” He chokes, needing you to understand him.
“You’re my best friend too.” You promise him, thinking that he’s just telling you needing you as a friend. 
But Frankie frowns. “No baby, I don’t- I want to be married to you for real. Forever.” He manages, squeezing your hand. 
“For real?” You frown and then lean forward. “Baby, I want- if this is just some kind of reaction to being shot-“ 
“it’s not,” he insists. “I love you.” 
You lunge forward and press your lips to his. “I love you.” You tell him breathlessly.
He wishes he could reach up and cup your cheek, keep you pressed against him, but all he can do is kiss you back. “I’m so fucking in love with you. Always have been. Even with - even when I was with Janet. It’s why she left that night. We were arguing and I- shit. I’ve made so many mistakes but marrying you ain’t one of them. I love you. I love you.” He says when you lean back to look into his eyes.
Your heart breaks, knowing that you were the cause of what could be the reason that Janet was driving that night, although you know her actions were her own. You know that she and Frankie weren’t good together and you can’t blame him for the past. “I love you, Francisco.” You promise him softly with a smile, kissing him once more. “Will you stay married to me?” You ask quietly, not wanting anyone to over hear. “Make this a real marriage with me?” 
Frankie nuzzles into your cheek, unable to believe how lucky he is to have you. “I love you. It’s always been you. I- I don’t want to waste any more time. I want to start the rest of our lives.”
You smile and giggle happily, reaching up and brushing his hair back from his face. “I love you too baby. Now you just need to heal so you can come home to us.” Frankie’s deployment is officially over and as soon as he is recovered enough to go home, you would be headed back to the states so he could recover fully. 
****
“Frankie!” You huff, pushing at his wandering hands and pushing them away from your ass. “You need to stop. You could pull a stitch.” You chide, finding it harder and harder to push him as the weeks go by.
Frankie grunts, “don’t care. It’s been torture seeing you and not being able to be inside of you.” He admits, and he knows you’ve done stuff. You have sucked his cock and he let you sit on his face, but the doctor told him no strenuous activity. He hasn’t been cleared yet but every day it’s getting harder to not fuck you. He honestly wants to make love to you, something slow and sweet to consummate your marriage…finally.
You bite your lip and you know that he is just as eager as you are to finally have sex. Leaning in, you press your lips to his. “If - and I mean if - you can be good and be still, how about we compromise and I sit on your cock?” You know that Frankie wants to be in charge but he can’t. No with the bandage on his side. But if he could be still, you could ride him. “But you have to be still. Not trying to take over.”
Frankie pouts, aware that he can’t ruin you the way he wants to but he has the rest of your lives to make love to you, to make you cum on his cock while he fucks you. “I can be good.” He promises, sliding his hands down to squeeze your ass. Ana is in bed and he’s so grateful for it so he can push his hard cock into your hip. “I won’t take over.”
You smirk, absolutely aware of the fact that he will try to take over. “Then what are you waiting for, soldier?” You tease. “Get undressed so I can fuck my husband.” You are already getting out of the bed so you can strip out of the t-shirt and panties that you had taken to sleeping in. Enjoying the way Frankie’s eyes wander over your body every night.
He loves seeing you like this. His beautiful wife. The love of his life. He swallows, throat suddenly dries, and he is grateful he isn’t wearing a shirt. His boxers are able to be shoved down and he pushes the sheets down the bed before settling against the pillows. “Baby. Come here. Are you wet? You wanna sit on my face?” He asks, “there’s lube in the nightstand.” He wants you to be comfortable. “And condoms…if you want.” He adds, knowing you haven’t been on birth control and he doesn’t want to push you in case you change your mind and don’t want to get pregnant yet.
He pants, fingers twitching to grab you. He desperately wants you, he wants to make you feel good. “I can’t wait to see you pregnant.” He admits, knowing that the experience will be different than Janet who was a nightmare when she was pregnant. She was demanding and accused him of cheating, and then cried and begged for sex in the same breath. He had whiplash and tried to be there for her but it was hard at times. His hands caress your back and he leans in to kiss your shoulder, just breathing you in while you grind against him.
“Lean back, baby.” You chide, pushing his shoulder back gently. “I’m going to come to you. Give you what we’ve both wanted.” He feels so good against your clit that you can’t help but roll your hips, slicking up his cock with how wet you are and enjoying when his cock flexes against your folds. Leaning in, you press your lips to his in a soft kiss.
“Fuck. Don’t tease me baby. It’s been torture.” He groans when you kiss him slowly, his hands squeezing your hips to encourage you. “Come on baby. I need you to fuck me.” He begs, rocking his hips to grind against you.
Taking mercy on him and yourself, you reach down and wrap your fingers around his thick cock and lift your hips. Eager to have him inside you now and feel his cum filling you up. The first inch makes you gasp, carefully bracing your hands on his chest but not putting any pressure on him. Wanting to make sure you don’t hurt him as you sink down on him.
Frankie whimpers, actually whimpers, when you take his cock inside of you. “Fuck baby. You- Jesus fucking Christ - you feel so good.” He pants, “I- oh God. Wanted this for so long.” He grips your waist, wishing he could slide inside of you on your back and make love to you.
Leaning forward, you press your lips to his and slide your tongue into his mouth as you grind back onto him. Wanting to make sure that you get used to the thick heft of him inside you. “Me too baby, wanted you for so long.” You promise, your walls clenching around him.
Frankie almost feels like he can't breathe. His heart beats out of his chest and he pants when you clench around him. "Fuck, sweetheart. Feel so good. Can't - can't wait to feel this for the rest of our lives. So damn lucky." He kisses along your jaw and down your neck, wanting to worship you as much as possible.
“I’m lucky.” You start to slowly roll your hips, in no hurry to cum. You want this time to be soft and sweet. Not only for him, but so you can feel every inch of him scrubbing through your walls. “Love you.” You close your eyes as he kisses you, absorbing the groans and loving how his hands wander as you slowly ride him.
“Love you too.” He vows, knowing he’s going to ask you to marry him again. He wants a big wedding, the boys to be there and your friends. He wants to show off how much he loves you. After nearly dying, it’s put everything into perspective and he knows he is grateful for what he has. Others have fared far worse than him. His hands squeeze your breasts and his cock twitching inside of you, imagining them full of milk for his baby. The thought nearly sends him over the edge but he controls himself.
“Ohhh someone thought of something they like.” You tease, seeing the look on his face as he twitches inside you. You wonder if it’s the same as him. Imagining him knocking you up tonight. Your hips roll a little faster and you moan his name softly, reaching up and combing through his hair as your nose touches his and you look in his dark eyes
He chuckles softly, “was thinking about you full of our baby. When your tits get bigger.” He confesses and nudges your nose with his. “I can’t wait. I can’t wait to begin our family with Ana and another child. It’s gonna - fuck - it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.” He murmurs, caressing your back.
You moan, imaging how possessive, how loving he will be when you are showing. Frankie seems like the type to worship you when you are pregnant. “I want that too.” You promise. “Have your baby, share that with you. Raising our kids.” Ana isn’t yours by blood but you love her like your own.
He nods, knowing he wants to ask you to formally adopt Ana and be her mom. He will preserve Janet’s legacy with her daughter but Ana deserves all the love in the world. “Fuck.” Frankie groans when you rock a little faster, his shoulder aches but he ignores it, trying to rock his hips up into you as you grind on top of him.
“Frankie.” You gasp out, clenching down around him when his cock nudges against your g-spot wonderfully. “There.” You pant, knowing that if he keeps hitting that spot just like that, you will cum quickly.
He hisses, concentrating on thrusting up into you at that angle. “Baby. Cum for me baby.” He begs, “come on, be a good girl. Cum for me.” He demands, needing to feel you clamp down on his cock.
You whine out his name, holding onto him as he takes control. 
He wasn’t supposed to do that, but you are beyond caring. As long as he doesn’t rip his stitches, he can take the reins and thrust up into you. “I’m gonna cum baby, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum on your cock.”
“That’s it. That’s it.” He groans when he thrusts up into you, his hands gripping your ass, and you clamp down on his cock. “Fuck yes baby. That’s it. Oh shit. I’m gonna-” Frankie usually prides himself on his stamina but the emotional connection combined with wanting you for years and the added ecstasy of you possibly getting pregnant and his near demise has him sent over the edge. “Fuck.” He moans your name as he cums, cock twitching inside of you.
It’s Heaven, the molten heat of his seed filling you. Making you gasp in pleasure as you grind down on him as he rides out his high, pushing up into you with short thrusts. “Oh god, oh god.” You collapse against him and kiss along his jaw. “I love you so much.”
“Love you.” Frankie pants, his entire body lost in the feel of his orgasm. It’s more than he could’ve ever imagined. He feels complete. His wife in his arms, hopefully pregnant soon with his second child. It’s his dream come true. He just wishes it wasn’t such a bumpy road to get to this point but that’s life. Twists and turns…Frankie still got his happy ending.
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wysteria-clad · 1 year
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'Call your man by his first name and see his reaction' trend with triple frontier boys
a/n: aka them being your baby™
genre: fluff
paring: triple frontier boys x fem! reader; established relationship
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Santi
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"Hey, Santiago, can I have a cup too?"
You ask him for a cup of coffee when you see him in the kitchen making some.
"Who?"
"You"
"You never call me that," he looks at you half offended, half in disbelief.
"It's your name," you move closer to him.
"No"
"Can I have some coffee now?"
"No"
"What do you mean 'no'?"
"Coffee is only for the woman who does not call me 'Santiago,'" he stresses the 'not'. "You didn't call me 'baby."
You suck in your lips to stop you from laughing. "Aw, baby, are you mad?" you reduce the distance between you two and place a hand on his chest.
He leans down, and buries his face on the crook of your neck.
You smile and rest your hand on the nape of his neck, and trace his scar with your fingers.
He sighs in content, and pulls back after a moment and looks into your eyes with anticipation.
You lean closer to him, and then reach out your hand past him to grab the coffee cup on the kitchen counter and turn around.
"Really?" he shakes his head.
You take a sip, smiling to yourself. "Coffee is great, thanks, baby"
"Really?!" he shouts, watching you walk away from him with a teasing smirk on your lips.
"I love you!"
Your peaceful moment with his your coffee doesn't last long as he grabs you and flings you over his shoulder.
"Babe!"
He smacks your ass playfully, and carries you to bedroom making you laugh.
Frankie
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"Francisco, cuddle me?" you look up from the couch, extending your arms at him in an invite.
"Am I in trouble?"
"Why would you be, Francisco?"
"I thought I was your 'honey', " He gives you his soft, puppy eyes, "your 'baby'."
Did he forget an errand or any important event?
"Am I in trouble? seriously?" he is confused, but he complies your request and lies down on the couch next to you, wrapping his arms around you.
"No, baby," you snuggle to his side, and bury your face into his chest. "I love you."
You smile when you feel a kiss on the top of your head.
"Te amo."
Benny
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He was on a quick grocery shopping run. You were in your shared bedroom, sitting on the bed comfortably, telling him what else you needed.
"Benjamin, don't forget the chees-"
"What'd you just call me?"
"Benjamin"
"Why would you call me that?" he looks so offended.
"It's your name."
"It's not my name.." he lips parts open. The disrespect..."My name is 'baby'," he states as if it's the most obvious fact. He tackles you in a jump hug, pinning you to the bed and falling on top of you.
"You are crushing me, you, goof," you speak, smiling and still pinned underneath him. "Benjamin, get off me," you laugh.
Nope, try again. He doesn't even bulge.
You stifle a laugh, "Baby?"
"Yes, darlin'?"
"Baby, get off me," you giggle.
"That's better," he pretends to get off you, then grabs your face, and presses his lips on the side of your face, giving you a loud, sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek. He then gets off you, and walks out of the bedroom.
"Ben!"
"I'm baby!" he yells, making you laugh.
Will
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"Hey, William. How was work?"
He just came home from work. You had arrived home two hours before.
"Are you mad at me or something?"
"No, William."
"Why'd you say that?" he looks at you like you had just shot him. "What did I do?"
"Nothing."
"Sweetheart..." he follows you around the living room, "Speak to me, what did I do?" his voice is soft. He gives you the kicked puppy look, instantly making you feel bit bad.
"Nothing, baby. I'm sorry, how was work?" you soften your tone, and snake your arms around his neck. You stroke the back of his head with your left hand, and move your right hand forward to cup his cheek.
He closes his eyes, leaning into your touch.
You kiss his lips with tenderness and assure him you are not mad.
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fuckyeahdindjarin · 11 months
Note
congrats on 2222!! soulmate au with frankie would be so cute. I love frankie sm he’s just the cutest 😍
Hi lovely! Thank you for this prompt. I was a bit apprehensive because I've read one (1) soulmate AU in my entire life and wasn't sure if I could do it justice. But obviously, Frankie takes this by the ears and I just had the best time writing it. This is also a college AU because apparently I love AUs set with Pedro boys in college 🤷🏻‍♀️
This drabble is actually an AU of an upcoming fic I have in the works, called Summer House (with a lot less angst and pain). I hope you like it sweet anon!
Frankie Morales x soulmates AU
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Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover micro drabble request | 1346 words (sorry) | warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, college AU, inexperienced reader, drinking games, friends to soulmates
Sometimes, you wonder what colour Frankie’s eyes are.
It’s not something you wonder about often, not when everyone has grey eyes - but not really. One day, when you kiss your soulmate for the first time, you will see their eye colour, and they will see yours.
So you definitely don’t have any business wondering anything of the kind about Frankie at all, seeing that you two do not get along. Never have, probably never will, despite having been in the same close knit group since you were kids. Benny has long played the second to your principal in your duels with Frankie, while Santi is his, with Will keeping the peace whenever you get into a particularly thorny disagreement.
But that’s the funny thing about friendship. Despite your bickering, you got his back, and you know he has yours.
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You’ve heard about it once or twice through the grapevine in high school, but finding one’s soulmate seems to be a dime a dozen in college, with happy news dropping left, right and centre throughout the academic year.
While you’re not in a hurry to find your fated other half, you start thinking that you should at least get started with the kissing part. You’re way behind your friends and peers on that front, somehow missing out on the formative experience despite being a regular fixture at house parties at high school, then sorority parties in your freshman year in college.
You really should blame the boys. No one wants to risk messing with a girl who has three hulking seniors and one equally hulking sophomore at her beck and call, not when there are far easier options around.
But you know it’s not just that, and you’ll only admit it when you're drunkenly tucking yourself into bed, alone yet again after another party. It feels like you’re the only person your age who’s still (stupidly) holding onto the hope that your first kiss can be something, not just a sloppy makeout session with too much tongue and too little meaning.
And so you find yourself, still never been kissed, when summer rolls around at the end of your first year at college. Your gang of five is about to shrink to just you and Benny, with the rest of the boys enlisting after they graduate, and the impending farewell upsets you more than you care to show.
The five of you spend the first week together at the Millers’ summer house after school lets out, as has been tradition since you were kids - with your parents when you were younger, but it’s been just kids for the last few years.
Well, just the kids plus one, since Frankie always brings a girlfriend. Unfailingly, it's someone beautiful with perfect hair who has a wandering eye for the other boys, and hates your guts for being the only girl in the group.
On the last night, the guys invite a select crowd over for one final hurrah before they go home and get ready to ship out to basic training the following week. Music is booming, cheap beer is flowing, and you’re all in the garden, the sticky Floridian heat clinging to you like a second skin.
Ironically, it’s Frankie’s girlfriend who wants to play spin the bottle. He sits opposite you, his Standard Oil cap pulled over his eyes but failing to hide his annoyance at being forced to participate. You roll your eyes at him across the circle, and he gives you a middle finger back.
Will, the self-appointed gamesmaster, spins the bottle set on a pizza box atop the lawn.
It spins, and spins, and spins - until it doesn’t.
You look on in sheer horror when the bottle stutters to a stop squarely before you, the other end pointing at Frankie, who turns green with nausea.
‘FUCK NO!’
You attempt to run, only to be tackled to the ground by Santi, who practically hauls you by the waist back to the circle as you kick and scream.
Frankie, on the other hand, has to be restrained by both Miller brothers.
‘I have a girlfriend!’ he shouts, digging the heels of his beat-up sneakers into the grass.
She doesn’t seem to mind though, clapping gleefully along with everyone else, chanting, ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’
Shoved toe to toe in the middle of the circle under watchful eyes, you exchange vicious glares. Frankie’s broad shoulders are hunched over defensively, arms crossed. It’s strange, you’ve known him forever, but this is probably physically the closest you’ve ever been to each other without being locked in a fist fight.
Warmth bounces off his tightly wound up frame as he towers over you, and by some folly, you feel an inexplicable pull.
You fight the staggering want to bury your nose in that grey tshirt (the one he wears Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and restocks at Old Navy when it wears too thin), to swipe that hat off his head to brush the curls from his face, to look into his eyes - and see what colour they are.
In the end, Frankie breaks first - you’re not sure if it’s the jeering and goading from the crowd or your stubborn standoff that makes him snap. Grabbing you by the elbow, he hauls you firmly into his chest before you can react.
You should be embarrassed, mortified that this is how you’re going to end up losing your first kiss. And yet, losing doesn't seem like the right word.
There’s a deep-seated calmness inside you, knowing that it’s going to be Frankie. The boy you’ve known since you were three, the teenager who used to make you cry with stupid juvenile pranks, and the man now who wouldn’t hesitate to throw a punch if anyone even looks at you the wrong way.
As soon as the tip of his proud nose brushes yours, your eyes slide shut of their own accord - and he kisses you.
God, his lips are so soft. Your breath catches in your throat, and your knees wobble so dangerously that your fingers twist into the front of his tshirt, holding on for dear life.
Can he tell that you don’t know how to kiss, at all? Does he think you’re terrible? The fact that this feels so fucking perfect despite having no idea what you’re doing sets you on edge, a magnifying glass trained on your inexperience in a way that makes you stiffen with nerves and awkwardness. 
He must be appalled at how bad you are, especially after the litany of gorgeous, more experienced girls he’s been with over the years. You can’t believe you’re subjecting him to this, how would he ever look you in the eye afterwards -
But then, something shifts when his hands find your waist, palms easily spanning the small of your back as he pulls back for air, but only just, still so close that you can feel the tickle of his beard on your chin. There’s an unmistakable hitch in his breath, a tremour as he exhales, which in turns makes you tremble and switches off the unwelcome commentary in your head.
It’s as if he wants you.
Before you can think too hard, Frankie leans in and kisses you again, harder this time, the tip of his tongue tracing the seam of your mouth, and heat chases down your spine like a meteor. He sucks on your bottom lip when it falls open in a gasp, dipping between your lips with a clever swipe of his tongue against yours that makes you shudder and whimper, which he swallows with a possessive growl.
Your lungs are burning when he draws back, his nose still touching yours.
Then he calls your name.
You blink as your eyes open -
Frankie’s staring at you, lips parted, his gaze reverential. Like he’s never seen you before. Reaching up, he takes your face in his hands, calloused palms on your cheeks, thumbs swiping away the tears that won’t stop. You break into a watery grin, which he mirrors, a warm chuckle rumbling in his chest, holding you close as everything falls into place -
Frankie’s eyes are brown.
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Note: In case it's not clear, in this fic, everyone’s eyes appear grey. You can only see your soulmate's eye colour after you kiss them for the first time.
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wildemaven · 5 months
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You accidentally bump into a cute pilot at the store, a few days later he’s asking you out for coffee
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pedropascalsx · 4 months
Text
‘You kiss me in a way that’s going to screw me up forever.’ - Frankie Morales x F! Reader!
Summary: You and Frankie are forced back together after a long painful few months.
Warning: It’s angsty, happy ending but angsty beginning. P in V, Oral (f receiving), a little jerking off, fingering, unprotected sex, cursing, and mentions of death.
No physical descriptions of reader.
Word Count: 3.6k
A/N: Well. I did it. I finished a fic after months of not believing in myself and my ability to write anymore. I can’t promise it’s good but I worked really hard on it and I hope you enjoy it. This has not been beta’d. I apologise for any mistakes.
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His hands itched but his fingers felt numb. You looked in his direction only once, and it was straight through him rather than at him. He could feel it, the ache that burned steadily in your chest, a burning that he implanted there many moons ago as you pleaded so softly for him to stay.
He couldn’t. You knew that. He knew it too. But you couldn’t help the way those words fell so brokenly from your lips. The lips that were stained red with tiny droplets of blood from the way your teeth sunk so deep into them, the skin proving to be as delicate as your splintering heart. The heart that’s never beat the same as it did before that day.
“So just one night?” Benny asks from next to you, speaking to Pope who was perched next to Frankie.
For just a single second you allowed yourself to look up at him, praying he was too busy concentrating on the hushed conversation taking place but he wasn’t. He was waiting, studying your face, waiting for the moment you’d let your guard down… Ready to silently console your broken heart with that look he reserved just for you.
It felt like you were staring into those big brown eyes for an eternity but also like you pulled away much too soon, the ache in your heart getting harder to bear with every painful ticking second.
The conversation continued as Benny, Will and Pope went back and forth and although you could hear them speaking it wasn’t until a familiar commanding voice muttered two words that you were able to actually take anything in.
“I’m down.” Frankie said with a slight shrug of his shoulders, agreeing to what you assume is some half baked plan that will ultimately involve one of you getting shot at.
The next voice was Wills agreeing and downing the rest of his beer, shortly followed by an enthusiastic Benny and then it was down to you. And were you really about to agree to participating in something that involved heaven knows what?
“Fine,” you groaned, slightly shaking your head and running your fingers through your hair.
“We leave first thing, and if all goes to plan we will be back the following morning.” Pope said with a signature grin, before ordering another round and beginning to reveal his carefully thought out plan.
The rest of the evening almost went by without a hitch, your restraint surprising you as you managed to refrain from looking in his distraction again.
“Benny and Will will drive down in one car, and three of us will go in Frankies truck.” Pope informs you, and before you have the chance to think of an excuse he’s pushing past you and making his way towards the bar to pay the tab.
“5:30,” Frankie said, hating the way you’re looking over at Pope instead of looking at him. “I’ll have Pope text you as we’re leaving his place.”
“Okay,” you just about managed in response, refusing to look at him and pulling your bag on your shoulder before making your way to the exit without another word.
The ache in your chest threatened to consume your entire body as you walked hastily towards your car, inhaling as deeply as you could and only exhaling along with a shaky sob once the car door slammed shut next to you.
It had been months since that night, months of avoiding your best friends and attempting to move on from him. But it didn’t work. You knew he’d be there and you still went, convincing yourself that it was because they’d need someone clinical for whatever mission was clearly going to take place… but really it was because you couldn’t spend another day not knowing how he was. If he was in as much pain as you are.
The drive home was slow, despite the time and the fact you needed to be up in less hours than fingers you have on one hand. Still it didn’t make you speed up in any way, instead you opened the windows and let the cruel bitter air in and allowed it to burrow under your skin and temporarily replace that ache with a new one.
You waited anxiously for sleep to come that night, tossed and turned in your comfortable bed but it never came. Instead you watched as the hours ticked by and eventually gave up trying, forcing yourself into the shower a little before 5 and attempting to scrub away all the pain and hurt you’d been harbouring for almost 7 months. It didn’t work. It never worked.
**
You were already waiting, sitting on the swing chair on your porch as his truck came hurtling around the corner. The first thing you noticed was there was no Pope, it was just Frankie sitting in front. Second thing was the way he refused to take his eyes off of you for a single second, eyes glued to you as you slowly approached his truck, sighing as you spotted Pope sprawled out in the back snoring away. You carelessly threw your backpack into the back of the truck before getting in.
“Sorry,” he muttered, as you clicked your seatbelt into place, “He needs his beauty sleep.”
You responded with a brisk nod, focusing on looking straight ahead and waiting for him to pull away. Not in the mood for small talk. Not in the mood to feel your traitorous heart leap at anything and everything this man says to you.
Looking out of the window, you watched as the streets slowly fizzled out, you noticed the tall buildings quickly cease to exist around you. You watched as the streaks of purple pink skies that once crept out between the buildings become the only things that surround the quiet roads besides the lush fields. A brief smile crossed your face and you felt him notice it.
“How have you been?” He asked quietly, clearly unsure of himself and whether he’s in a situation where it’s not crossing a line to ask.
“Surviving,” was the only word that slipped through your lips.
“Yeah. Me too.” He scoffed, leaving the air a little uncomfortable to breathe, as his fingers tightened around the steering wheel and he shook his head.
He was trying. You could see that. You could feel it in the way he was handling himself… But that fucking ache. The one that spreads across your chest and causes your lungs to collapse, your throat to tighten and all of your airways to restrict was rearing its ugly head. Threatening to leave you gasping for air… or maybe for his touch and you couldn’t handle him seeing you like that. He didn’t deserve to see how broken he had left you.
“I’m sorry,” he grunted after a while, disturbing the silence and it made you want to weep. “I, I-uh fuck-I’m sorry. I can’t take it back. Fuck. If I cou-.”
“Stop,” you spat, with a furious shake of your head. Leaving the word hanging, and feeling a type of poison flood the air between the two of you. Months of unspoken agony being left silently choke you both as you were in forced confinement for at least the next 24 hours.
**
“We need to get the fuck out of here,” he yelled as the rest of you scrambled around grabbing anything and everything you could carry, before running down the stairs behind him. Flashbacks of the failed mission from the previous year flashing behind your eyes as the image of Tom's lifeless body made your eyes water.
There would be no repeats of that day. You had all made sure of that this time. No injuries. No deaths. The house was empty, you had all made sure of it and more importantly; no one had seen you. The endless stacks of drugs, weapons and the cash you couldn’t carry would be destroyed in a matter of minutes as Will lit the flame that would bring it down to nothing.
None of you stopped to watch, there would be no time to enjoy or acknowledge the millions of dollars of drugs not making it onto the streets as Frankie sped away in the rented van and made his way back to where he parked his truck, where you’d all transfer the cash filled bags from the back and Benny would then return the rental.
Seemingly it went smoothly, no one got hurt, the mission was a success and you had enough money to settle down and start living your life instead of barely surviving. But the cracks had already started to show. All five of you are haunted by the mission that you vowed to never speak of, only occasionally referencing it in passing when speaking briefly of Tom.
**
And now you’re here, sitting on the couch of the overpriced airbnb Pope had booked the night before. Listening to Will rant and rave about how that should have happened last year, how we should have all made Tom listen and made him leave when we had planned. How we should have listened to Frankies concerns about the overloading the helicopter but it’s too fucking late now.
“I can’t do this,” you say, as you push yourself up onto shaky legs. “Last year was a fuck up, and everything since has been a fuck up.” You say while unconsciously staring into Frankies big brown eyes, before pulling away. “Tell Benny to let me know he got back safe.” You say to Will before making your way upstairs to your room for the night.
“You need to eat,” Frankie calls out from behind you, but you don’t look back.
**
Benny had popped his head in the door, and when he saw you were awake he passed a plate with a few slices of pizza to you before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and sliding back out. Sensing you needed to be alone.
And now you’re staring blankly at the ceiling, hating the way your body can almost sense how close Frankie is. How just a few months ago he’d be laying beside you, whispering filth into your ear just to watch you giggle and attempt to cover your face with the covers before capturing your lips with the kind of kiss that always left you longing for more.
You attempt to rationalize the events of that night and the one time you saw him after, the reason he couldn’t pick you was one you would never fault. Renee had made it clear that if he was to continue seeing you romantically, he’d lose Luna. You understood that. But you didn’t understand why he treated you the way he did a few nights later, you had initially held back politely.
But you still greeted him with a smile as he entered Bennys and a few moments later gathered up some strength and offered him a beer, and he responded with a look that ignited the ache he had put into you a few days before and replaced the longing that lingered there with unfiltered pain.
It was a look that you had never seen from him before, one that has haunted your dreams ever since… one you had found yourself praying you’d never see in person again. It was a pure look of hatred and you had done nothing to deserve it. He didn’t speak to you. He just stared you down until you couldn’t take it anymore, made a shitty excuse and left hastily.
It was too much then, and it’s too much now, you think to yourself as you wrap yourself up in the covers and grip the spare pillow beside you; clutching it to your chest and you desperately will yourself to sleep.
**
The house is eerily quiet. He figures everyone’s asleep but he can't switch off his brain or push away those feelings that came flooding back the day before when you slowly wandered into the bar. But that’s a lie he thinks to himself, they never ever left. He had convinced himself that he could make you fall out of love with him by treating you differently but he didn’t imagine that he’d do it that quickly.
It had killed him to kill you. And now you’re in the room across from him, likely to be sleeping soundly and hopefully dreaming of things that are much better than him. He thinks about all the times he’d watch you sleep, snuggled up beside him with your hand always placed on the centre of his chest. He can almost feel it, he can almost push away the same ache that lives inside of you both away for long enough to feel the warmth of your hand.
His legs are moving before he has time to realize what’s happening and he’s shoving the covers off of himself and his legs are dragging him out of bed. He’s moving faster than he has in months, not stopping, keeping his hand outstretched from when he opened his door so he can easily wrap his fingers around the doorknob that’s separating you from him.
He doesn’t knock, he knows he should but he doesn’t want to be turned away so he gently twists the knob and steps inside, shutting it as quietly as he can… needing to remind himself how relaxed you always looked when peacefully asleep.
But you’re not asleep, you’re wide awake and the sound of your doorknob being twisted had you shooting upright and the sight of him entering your room has you gasping.
“We need to talk.”
**
You want to yell, to tell him to get out of your room and leave you alone but the words don’t reach your lips. Instead you remain silent. Watching as he begins to pace in front of you. Watching as he desperately searches for words that you’re unsure he’ll ever find.
“You didn’t need to look at me like that,” you whisper, just and just loud enough for him to hear. “I wanted to be your friend. I wanted to still see you despite the agony of losing the man that I love and you looked at me like you hated me. I didn’t deserve it, Frankie.”
“You don’t understand,” he murmurs before pulling at the collar of his shirt.
“No, I don’t. You promised me that we’d still be friends.”
“The second I saw you, you looked at me like I was your entire world and I couldn’t fucking breathe,” he snarls back, taking a step towards you in bed. “I was supposed to be your friend? Tell me how? When I couldn’t risk looking at you the same fucking way, despite the fact I felt, fuck, feel the same fucking way.”
“You made your choice, and you made the decision to promise you’d still be my friend, Francisco. Fuck. You’re going to say this shit to me and run back to your perfect little family tomorrow and leave me broken again.” You say as calmly as you can, despite the urge to scream. “Get out.”
“No.”
“Frankie.”
“Do you really want me to leave?”
“No.”
You’re not sure who moves first but it’s quick, your mouths fusing together and your tongues beginning to battle for dominance as you pull at each other's clothes. Only pulling apart to pull his shirt over his head and immediately crashing back together. It’s frantic, it’s messy and it’s everything your body has been craving for months.
The noise that falls from your lips as he breaks your kiss is a desperate whimper. But before you can beg for them back he’s moving down and burying his face between your thighs, nuzzling his nose against the damp patch on your panties and inhaling your scent.
His name falls from your lips like a desperate plea, and he knows exactly what you’re craving, he’s craving it too. For months he has been dreaming about the taste of you and he’s not wasting anymore time. He pulls off your panties in one quick motion, and starts with a few gentle flicks of his tongue, occasionally switching it up and sucking on your little bundle of nerves. Every filthy noise that he makes adds to your pleasure as he continues working you towards paradise.
“Oh Franciscoooo,” you just about whimper before pleasure whips through you and the only thing you can focus on is him and the pleasure that’s erupting through your entire body. He doesn’t let up, not for even for a second, he continues licking and sucking at your swollen clit until you’re begging him to stop.
He stays there for a few minutes, admiring the view of your glistening pussy before he gently peppers a few kisses on the top of your thigh. Sensing you’re a little less stimulated, he flattens his tongue and licks a wide stripe through your cunt, groaning at the delicious taste of you and your arousal.
Gently he pushes two fingers into your heat, and smirks at the way you wince a little at the stretch from his digits alone. “So fucking tight, baby,” he praises before pumping them in and out. “I’ve missed this. Missed you. Thought about you everyday.”
You try to reply but the only thing that escapes your throat is a wanton moan as he starts licking your pussy again, licking at your clit and pumping his fingers in perfect unison. Loving the way your soft moans fill the room and you’ve perfectly captured and entranced all of his senses.
It doesn’t take long before the pressure builds and you’re coming apart at the mercy of his talented tongue and equally talented fingers. Flooding them with your arousal and crying his name so sweetly.
You say his name again, and he can’t hold back, he gently pulls out his fingers and pushes them into his mouth, tasting you anyway he can before climbing back up and smashing his mouth to yours.
His cock twitches against your stomach, rock hard and leaking. He’s needing release, needing to be buried in you but he doesn’t rush. He just gently grips your jaw, holding it open so he can lick into your mouth, kissing you with every bit of strength he has.
Your hands roam across his shoulders and down his back, dipping into the waistband of his boxers and grabbing at the flesh of his ass. He gets the message and lets go of your mouth, breaking free of the kiss but peppering a few pecks before pulling back. He frees himself of his boxers and climbs back between his legs, pushing them a little wider and gently tapping the tip of him against your clit.
“Don’t tease,” you snarl, as you reach down and take him in your hand. Running your hand up and down his length and loving the groans that he rewards you with. Your thumb swipes over the tip, rubbing the pre-cum down his shaft and he hisses your name in a way that makes your pussy throb.
He gently pushes your hand away and gives himself a few languid strokes before lining himself up against your entrance, “Do you think this tight little pussy can take me?” He teases, “Or do I need to stretch you out a little more.”
“Frankie, please,” you beg, writhing beneath him as your need grows even stronger.
“Please, what, baby girl?”
“Please, fuck me,” you groan impatiently.
“Whatever you need.”
He sheathes himself into with a quick snap of his hips, hissing loudly as he fills you to the hilt and groaning at how responsive your pussy is to him. Your walls immediately flutter and grip onto him as you adjust to the width of him. The stinging being drowned out by pleasure as he throbs inside of you, you don’t ask him to move, you wait patiently for him to start rolling his hips and working up to a delicious pace.
It’s like he never left, he immediately finds that spot inside of you, notching against it with every earth shattering snap of his hips. Growling in your eye and demanding you ‘rub your clit’ so he can ‘feel that perfect little cunt spasm around his fat cock.’
Every thrust pushes air from your lungs and pulls pleasure from every receptor in your body, you’re consumed by him and suddenly everything feels right in the world.
He doesn’t stop muttering praise in your ear, with every slam of his hips a sweet nothing and a promise that you know he could never break is whispered in your ear.
“I’m close,” you whimper as you circle your clit a little faster, and he hisses in response. Pulling his hips back and slamming them into you, fucking you into the mattress and pulling the sweetest, softest and somehow filthiest noises from you.
It spreads through you like a wildfire, your eyes roll back and everything goes black before stars start to burst behind your eyes. You’re almost lost in pleasure, feeling like you’re floating away and then he anchors you. Pulling you back with a soft press of his lips to yours.
He immediately hushes you as you open your mouth to speak, then pulling out of your heat slowly and giving himself a few harsh strokes and covering your pussy with rope after rope of his warm cum, groaning your name over and over as he cums.
“I really fucking missed you,” he says once he’s milked himself dry, before rolling over onto his side and pulling you to face him. “And this time I’m never letting you go.”
**
You wake up first, he’s still snoring blissfully and snuggled up tightly next to you. A hand possessively wrapped around your waist. Something is missing, and it takes a few minutes to work out what it is.
Your mind searches for the answer, something is missing, yet you don’t feel sad. You don’t feel like you need to search for whatever it is.
And then his hand slides up, slowly, landing comfortably in the middle of your chest and it hits you.
That ache. It’s finally gone.
266 notes · View notes
wayfaringhoax · 11 months
Text
Riddles
Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Female Reader
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Click here for part two
Word count: 12k+
Summary: You and Frankie become ‘friends with benefits’ until you evolve into something more. But when you can’t seem to communicate your needs, you find yourselves in uncharted territory.
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact
Explicit sexual content (p in v, female receiving oral, dirty talk, semi-public sex, sexting, sending nude photos), references to sex scattered throughout, swearing, unhealthy relationships, making each other jealous, communication issues, discussions of low self-esteem, conflicted emotions, angst, possessive! Frankie, reader wears Frankie’s t-shirt, consumption of alcohol, references to religion and drugs (purely for metaphorical purposes), public discussions of sex, reader is described as having a vagina and breasts. 
This is a reader insert fic, but there are a few plot details that lean towards an OFC. Reader's mentioned as having two parents, letting their hair 'down' after work, and one of their friends is given a name. If any of these details make you uncomfortable, please refrain from reading.
New to the community, so this hasn’t been beta’d.
Been working on this for a few weeks, please let me know if you enjoy it!
Get coffee, meeting, reply to emails, meeting, lunch, marketing proposal, planning period, meeting.
As you opened your planner that morning, you were greeted by your responsibilities for the day. However, each damn meeting brought you one step closer to the end of the work day, and subsequently one step closer to leaving your office and heading to Benny’s Fight Night.
Due to your busy schedule, you hadn’t been able to make it to one of his fights for a while so you often resorted to wishing him luck via a text message. Having the chance to actually be there and support him in person was therefore a big deal for you. Plus, you’d also have the chance to grill the eldest Miller brother, having set him up on a date with your friend a few weeks ago, only to have her tell you it didn’t work out. You knew Will would be prepared for you to press him, and being as stoic as he was, you anticipated that he wouldn’t reveal much.
How many times had they reprimanded you for attempting to play matchmaker?
You couldn’t help it. It was only natural for you to want the best for them, you’d shared so much of your life with them, and they’d been by your side when it counted.
Of course, you were only a kid when you first met the Miller brothers. When your parents had befriended theirs, you were quick to latch on to them, glad to have two little friends to annoy. You often spent holidays chasing them around their home, and they enjoyed bringing their LEGO to yours, much to the dismay of your poor mother, who wasn’t prepared for how much mess they’d bring.
Sure, shit got real when you got older.
After you graduated from college, you threw yourself into work. You successfully climbed up the ranks, securing enough money to live comfortably. Though you admit, you had to sacrifice a lot in the process, regularly denying yourself the chance to be happy - to be loved - in the name of prioritising your career. 
Every time you wake up in the middle of the night, yearning for the comfort of another body, you’re reminded of the loneliness that sometimes plagues you.
Benny and Will weren’t strangers to the feeling either. You’d been around to see the darkness that followed them home from deployment. The darkness that tarnished some of their ability to accept love. The same darkness that made them hold on to you that little bit tighter, now very much acquainted with the feeling of loss.
You would never be able to understand what it was like for them. Never be able to fully comprehend the extent of their trauma. Some part of you knew that for Benny and Will, relationships weren’t as simple as they used to be.
But that didn’t stop you from trying to set them up. You appreciated that your attempts were futile, they were just gestures of good faith, really. They communicated that you cared. That you wanted them to be happy - and they saw that for what it was: their friend looking out for them.
On the other hand, Benny and Will rarely tried to set you up on dates, understanding that the guys they knew wouldn’t be the right fit for you.
Despite this, they made sure to constantly remind you that you weren’t getting laid.
An issue you were sure they’d raise again, at some point this evening.
It wasn’t as though you weren’t looking. 
Respectfully, you’d found most of the boys’ friends attractive, and perhaps, there was one man from their Delta Force squad, in particular, who’d caught your eye.
A man with a serious attachment to his baseball cap.
A man who seems burdened by his affliction, shouldering the weight of it all by himself. 
A man who was just so gorgeous, yet often chose to play it safe, hanging back when in the presence of the other boys.
Yes, Francisco Morales. Or Frankie, as the boys called him. 
You had looked at Frankie. Many times. He’d definitely caused you to lose your train of thought more than once, having been mesmerised by his features; strong yet with a particular softness. 
Whilst you acknowledged your attraction to this man, you got the sense that he wasn’t available. 
Benny had never mentioned a wife or a girlfriend when he spoke about Frankie, but you still felt as though there was some kind of invisible wall up, preventing you from getting any closer. 
Besides, you were going to support Benny tonight, not ogle his friend. You could keep it under control. 
Or at least you tried, yet the way Frankie let out a soft chuckle as Benny teased you about becoming a crazy cat lady, was testing your patience.
Now, you were avoiding his gaze, afraid of having to confront your attraction to the man across the locker room. This was proving to be quite easy, as Benny’s enquiry into your (lack of a) sex life had you staring up at the ceiling in embarrassment, hoping the ground would swallow you whole. 
“C’mon, I’m only looking out for you here. You gotta break the dry spell soon, else it’ll become even harder to get back out there.”
Benny continues his onslaught, deciding to raise the point that if he didn’t fight for a while, he’d simply have no skill when he got back in the ring.
Frustrated, you roll your eyes at his comparison before telling him, “That’s unfair, Benny.”
Santiago chooses this moment to weigh in, reassuring you, “Bonita, you could have any guy you wanted, huh? What’s stopping you?”, and before you have the chance to speak, Benny jumps in on your behalf.
“That’s what I keep telling her, but she keeps making up all these issues. Worrying too much.”
“Well these issues are real concerns for me. I don’t want a relationship right now, but one-night stands aren’t for me either. There’s too many unknowns with hookups. Do you know how many married guys take their rings off just so they can take girls home for a night?”, you tell Benny incredulously, trying to communicate the extent of your concern.
Benny senses your ire, beginning to back off slightly, yet not before proposing, “Why don’t you just get a fuck buddy? Then you can get laid all you want. Problem solved.”
Sure, the prospect was very appealing to you. Someone you could count on to give you orgasms and not have to worry about the strings attached? 
You’d sign yourself up right now. 
The problem was, where would you find such a man? You shuddered at the thought of returning to the dating apps, having had enough interesting encounters on there to put you off using them again.
Turns out Benny had his own solution to that problem, choosing this moment to turn his attention to his friend who was currently leaning against the lockers, arms folded against his chest. It was almost as though Frankie could sense what was coming next, as he retreated further back into himself, looking down at the floor in a futile attempt to avoid being targeted by his younger friend.
“Hey, Fish is right there. He’s been hard up for god knows how long now. Why don’t you scratch each other’s backs, huh?”
Right now, he was cursing himself for having one too many beers that night at Santi's house, when he’d opened up to the guys about his sexual frustration.
“Jesus Christ”, groans Frankie, his eyes looking at Benny disapprovingly.
Turns out you two did have something in common, as you both looked as though you could kill Benny with your stares. The younger Miller, however, was sporting a grin that would rival the Cheshire Cat’s, thoroughly pleased with himself.
With the attention span of an excitable puppy, Benny was quick to move on. You guess it had something to do with the way Will was looking at him, the subtle tilt of his head gesturing to Benny that he needed to get his head back in the game.
But that didn’t stop you from wanting to die of embarrassment. 
Sure, Benny had a fight to focus on, but you had to survive a couple more hours in Frankie’s presence. 
You pushed the strap of your bag further up your shoulder, hoping that having something to hold on to would quell the anxiety bubbling in your stomach. Straightening your posture, you hazard a glance over at where Frankie’s stood, only to realise he’s not there.
Pushing open the double doors, you exit the locker room and spot Frankie, way ahead of you, and his steps are somewhat urgent as he catches up to Santi.
Shrugging it off, you find your seat and wait for the fight to commence.
****
He’s struggling.
Frankie’s still reeling from Benny’s comment. He knows the only reason Benny said that was to rile you up, and he knows he shouldn’t still be thinking about it now. But he just can’t get the way you looked tonight out of his head.
He grabs himself a beer and settles onto his couch, before allowing images of you to flood his head; the late-night news report swiftly forgotten.
He imagines your hair, slightly tousled after a long day at work. It was extremely sexy, to him; the image of you letting your hair down as you leave the office. It signified you letting loose, and he could only imagine what it would be like to have you lose control around him. God, he’d give anything to run his hands through it as you looked up at him with those eyes. 
Fuck, you were gorgeous. 
Frankie’s got it bad for you. Has done for quite some time now. Ever since he was introduced to you at Benny’s birthday party last year, you had taken over all of his fantasies. Being around you consumed all of his energy, as he often fought hard enough to play it cool whenever you spoke to him; always worrying he’d scare you off with his dark wit. 
And for Benny to joke that he had a chance with you? Well, that was cruel. 
He managed to make an escape from the locker room before you noticed, latching onto Pope in an attempt to recompose himself.
You were far too good for him.
He had baggage; struggles he was still working through. 
You, on the other hand, were stable. With a successful career, a solid group of friends and a pretty house at the end of the block, you intimidated him. 
Frankie often wondered how you had spent so much of your adult life around the Millers, seen the damage that had been done to them, and yet you still had a certain innocence about you. It was like you had seen first-hand just how unforgiving the universe could be, but you still saw purpose beyond the pain.
Yep, he needed to stay away from you.
Deciding to push his demons aside for the moment, Frankie casts his mind back to the times he’d tried, and clearly failed, to put the moves on you.
There had been the brush of his hand on your waist as you walked by him in Will’s kitchen to get another beer. And the time you fell asleep on Benny’s sofa, he had shuffled closer, allowing your head to rest ever so slightly in his lap. Frankie also recalls each time he’d driven you home from the bar, only driving away when he saw you head inside. As you sat in his passenger seat, Frankie came to the conclusion that your presence was downright intoxicating. Therefore, he always volunteered to be the designated driver in the hopes he could drink up more of you.
It was getting late. Late enough that he could put all this down to being some kind of a fever dream.
Frankie’s about to head up to bed, when his phone lights up with a text message.
A text message from you.
Yeah, this was definitely feeling like a surreal experience.
He decides to bite the bullet and glances down at your message.
Hey, Frankie. Just wanna say sorry about before. We all know Benny loves to tease, but I hope he didn’t make you uncomfortable. Hopefully see you soon! x
Frankie’s not quite sure what you have to apologise for, and frankly, his attention was elsewhere; on the last four words of your text. God, he hoped to see you again.
He sends his reply swiftly.
Hey, you don’t need to be sorry. I’ve definitely had worse thrown at me by the boys. Don’t worry about it. Hope you enjoyed the fight?
Frankie knows he’s pushing his luck, but he adds that little question mark hoping you’d take the bait to talk to him for a little longer.
You reply almost instantaneously, much to Frankie’s delight.
Yeah, it was great! Once I stopped wanting to kill Benny. Until then I was kinda rooting for the other guy. Promise you won’t tell him? 
Can’t promise anything, Cariño, came Frankie’s response. 
Your humour almost seemed like flirting, and Frankie would be a fool not to try, so after hitting send, he relaxes back into the couch whilst awaiting your response.
Huh. Knew I couldn’t trust a man with the name Francisco.
Fuck. Frankie was immediately consumed by visions of you - saying his name. 
Imagining how his name would sound coming from those perfect lips of yours caused something to stir deep down in his gut. 
Get it together, Frankie. Get it together. 
He found it a little harder to type his next words.
Not many men you can trust these days. But you deserve to be with one who takes good care of you.
He hadn’t intended to get so deep so quickly, but the thought of you being hurt in the past caused an unpleasant feeling to grow in his chest. You were so beautiful, so good. You had your whole life ahead of you. Whichever asshole had broken your trust in the past didn’t deserve to be breathing right now, Frankie was certain.
You take a little longer to reply, causing Frankie to doubt himself for a moment before his phone lights up again.
Thanks, Frankie. I feel like I really needed to hear that. You deserve to be loved, too. 
The sincerity of your words almost knocked the wind right out of him. Pleasantly surprised at the turn his evening took, Frankie longed to draw more of those confessions from you. 
Pope’s right, you know. You could have any guy you wanted, Bonita. 
The Frankie who hadn’t gotten anywhere with you before was not expecting the response you gave.
Any guy, huh?
And before he has time to process your insinuation, you send another text.
Even you? 
Oh, he wasn’t prepared for you to say that. So understandably, his response is delayed.
Shit, he needs to tread carefully here, he thinks, as he eventually composes his next few words.
Cariño, you need to be careful what you say to me. I don’t do well with riddles. 
On edge, Frankie’s composure is wavering. He’s definitely not prepared when he spots an incoming call from you yet he doesn’t hesitate to pick up.
“Hi…I, uh…I don’t even know what I’m doing Frankie.”, your words are soon followed by a soft, yet nervous, laugh.
“Do you wanna come over?”
Frankie swears he hears the breath leave his lungs, before all but moaning out, “Yeah.”
“Be there in 15.”
****
Of all the things you thought you’d be doing at 2 am on a Friday night, giving Frankie directions to your house wouldn’t have been your first guess. 
What were you thinking? You became a woman possessed. The dark timbre of his voice had caused a warm, fuzzy feeling to grow in your tummy, and before you knew it, you had invited him over for a late-night booty call.
You keep your hands busy, clearing up some of the mess in your bedroom when the realisation hits you. You were going to have sex with Frankie. 
Is this really happening?
The doorbell rings and you soon realise that - yes - this does seem to be happening, and it’s happening right now.
Like the cat about to get its cream, you slink to the door to let him in. You’re hoping your face doesn’t betray your eagerness as you greet Frankie with a smile. 
He takes a moment to assess your features, apprehensive that you may have changed your mind whilst he was driving over. Finding only a hint of shyness in your otherwise confident persona, he knows he’s made the right call. Frankie needs to see you move first. He’s not going to enter your apartment until he knows you want him in there. 
Luckily for him, you turn your body to the side slightly, allowing him to see further into your apartment. You take a step back; it’s an invitation that needs no words - it simply says, chase me. See what you’ll find. 
And he does. But not before looking away from you and rolling his eyes ever so slightly. You don’t know if he’s amused or frustrated, but you know you’ve got him right where you need him when he crosses your welcome mat.
His eyes return to you, then, and he gives you an assured nod. It’s Frankie’s way of asking you what your next move is. After all, he’s on your turf right now. 
Desperate to break the silence, you tell him, “Thanks for coming, I know it’s late.”. Choosing that moment to head to your bedroom, you lead the way. Hoping. Wanting. Praying he’ll follow you.
Frankie follows. He follows you blindly - like a disciple on a mission - trusting that wherever he’ll end up, it will be worth it. 
When he reaches your doorway, he’s greeted by a sight so divine, he’s forced to rethink his stance as an agnostic. 
You’re kneeling on the bed, stretching over to switch on the light, when he admires the way your back is arched like a feline wanting to play. He sees your mischief. And, as your shoulders dip low, he becomes hung up on the view of your ass in this position. He definitely wants to play, too.
The tension gets thicker and thicker as Frankie advances forward. He wants to test the waters; see what you do next. But he also wants to dive in headfirst and lap up your sweetness like a man starved. Frankie is a man starved, and he’s losing resolve with every passing second in your presence.
Of course, he’s delighted when you turn to face him again. You kneel on the bed, right in front of him this time, sitting back on your legs with your hands behind your back. You push your chest forward and sit up tall in a way that almost short-circuits Frankie’s brain. You look so submissive; preening and proud to put your body on display for him. So eager to learn, to please him. 
He knows you’re toying with him. You look so innocent sitting like that, but Frankie also knows you’re playing naughty. 
He wouldn’t have it any other way, though. Your moxie had his cock aching in his pants. 
Cautiously, Frankie rakes his eyes over your body, trying to figure out your next move. The soft glow of light in the room gives you an advantage, however, and you manage to catch him off guard. 
He’s too focused on the way you bite your bottom lip to notice your hands on his belt buckle.
Frankie thinks you’ll unbuckle it, yet you surprise him again as you use it to pull his body flush to yours. You’re on the bed and he’s stood up, and you adore the way he’s making you feel so small and pliant right now.
Sporting a mischievous grin of his own now, Frankie moves his lips to your neck.
“Don’t thank me yet, baby. Not until you’re cumming all over my tongue.” 
How’s a girl supposed to respond to that?
By some miracle, you manage to stay upright on the bed, and you decide you need to regain control of the situation before Franke dirty-talks you to death. 
“Francisco…”, you purr devilishly, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. 
Frankie lets out a sinful groan; with just enough impatience to let you know he’s yours. There’s nowhere else he’d rather be right now than hanging on to every word you say. He can tell you’re being bratty. He loves it. Loves the way you’re taunting him, waiting for the moment he snaps and fucks you how you need to be fucked.
You repeat Frankie’s earlier words to you. “So…I could have any guy I wanted, huh? You really think so?”
Frankie thinks your smile looks a little bashful, for a second, before he notices the way you’re running your tongue across your bottom lip as you toy with the neck of his t-shirt. There’s a glint of something in your eyes. Your smile. That tells him he’s clueless as to the game you’re playing tonight, yet you’re definitely playing him. 
And, well, Frankie’s down for the ride. At this point, he’d promise you the world just to get a taste of the heaven between your thighs. 
Refocusing, he decides that’s what he needs to do.
“Cariño… so needy. You got my attention. All of it. No need to play up.”, says Frankie in a heady whisper.
You realise, then, that you may have underestimated the man in front of you.
But you definitely aren’t prepared for what he says next.
“On your back, baby. Panties off. Let’s see if you’re still an impatient little brat after you get your pussy eaten.”
Unable to form words, you get to the task at hand, dragging your lacy panties down your legs. You swear you can feel your skin throbbing as your hands skim your thighs. There’s nothing he could ask of you right now that would be too much, you decide, as you settle onto your back. 
He’s still fully clothed, and it’s almost like he senses your concern as he suddenly begins to undress. Starting with his t-shirt, he moves with urgency; afraid he’ll miss something if he takes his eye off you for a second. His hands reach for his belt, and you’re trying your best not to drool at the way he looks right now. Hair ruffled from your touch, chest heaving in anticipation of the pleasure you’re teasing of, and eyes glossy and wide. You’re simply mesmerised by the way this man looks when he’s affected. You’ve only ever seen him composed, playing it cool. You’ve never witnessed Frankie lose it, but you’re hoping that’s subject to change. Soon.
“Frankie…”, you beg. “Don’t keep me waiting, baby.”
Despite the way your impatience amuses Frankie, he decides he can’t wait any longer and dives down, using his hands to pry your legs open.
He nips the inside of your thigh, just far enough from where you need him to have you arching your back already; like a creature in heat.
You’re dying to express that you disapprove of his teasing, but you figure you should probably be a good girl considering he’s about to take care of you.
However, Frankie’s not done. His kisses trail higher, and as he reaches your knee, he places kisses there too, as he huffs out a demand. 
“You’re gonna be a good girl and give me all those pretty moans of yours. Take what I give you. Be grateful.” The way he emphasises those final two words tells you he’s not messing around, and you’re ashamed of the way you moan at the authority in his voice.
“Yes, baby. I’ll try to be good…. for you.”, you say. 
“Try, huh?”, is his response, as he reaches for a pillow, tapping your hip as a signal for you to lift them up. He places the pillow underneath your hips, and you’re ready to melt as he uses his thumb to rub firm circles into the spot just beneath your right breast. He applies a good amount of pressure, and all you can think about is how completely at his mercy you are right now; squirming underneath him in desperation. 
Frankie finally uses that tongue of his. But it’s not where you need it…yet. 
He draws your nipple into his mouth, sporting a smug grin as he does so. You want to scream. You can feel just how puffy and swollen your pussy is from the lack of attention it's receiving. As you feel it clench around nothing, you buck up against him whilst he continues to tease you. He’s sucking the peak into his mouth, drawing his tongue around in torturously slow circles, before releasing it with an audible pop. Frankie moves to continue his ministrations with your other breast, and in your petulance, you make the mistake of fighting him.
You hook your left leg around the back of his, trying to position your aching centre against the rough denim of his jeans; desperate for some friction.
But Frankie had been expecting you to challenge him. He’s seen your spark when you’d both been out with the other guys, it was one of the things that drew him to you in the first place. He recalls how you’d light up when you became competitive, you’d find ways to provoke your opponent yet you were able to mask it well. You’d get all giggly and cute, playing it off like you just got a bit over excited, and Santi, or whatever poor schmuck had gone up against you, would give in to you. Often letting you win. 
Well, Frankie wasn’t giving in that easily.
His hand shoots out to hold your left thigh open, whilst he uses his leg to pin down the other one; keeping you splayed out just how he wanted. You’re taken aback by his strength and you can’t deny it makes your pussy even needier. You need him, and your frustration has made you bold enough to tell him.
“Frankie, baby.”, you whine. “Need your mouth on it. On my pussy.”
He lets out a dark chuckle at that. And he decides to punish your brattiness with silence. You’re easy to read, to him, and he knows you’re liking the way he’s running his mouth whilst in your bed. But you’re reaching for too much, and he’s got to show some resistance for both of your sakes. 
Of course, Frankie would give you anything, but he’s not sure what your intentions were for inviting him into your bed. He assumes you’re after a no-strings-attached arrangement, and he’s gonna need to keep you wanting more if he’s to keep you. 
Pushing the thought aside for now, he focuses on his next move: giving you what you need. 
After what feels like a century, Frankie finally dips his head down to where you’re dripping for him. He’s sure he’s never seen a pussy so sweet and so responsive. He’s not even touched you there and he can see you clenching around nothing. 
His thick fingers part your folds and the way his breath ghosts over you has you crying out to him. 
“Ngghhh…fuck. Need it.”, you draw out in a frustrated giggle, and at this moment, Frankie thinks - no he knows - that you’ve ruined all other women for him. You sound so sexy, like a little vixen, but at the same time, there’s a sweetness about you that’s humbling.
Frankie decides he needs to reassure you. “Shhhh, Cariño. I’ve got you. You’ll get what you need.”
And you do get what you need, as Frankie forces your legs open even wider before licking a thick stripe all the way from your fluttering hole to your throbbing clit with his tongue - and the noise you make is untamed. 
He takes his time, opening you up on his tongue. He knows you need his fingers inside but he’s not sure you deserve it just yet. 
Frankie admires the way your pretty pussy is shy at first - like you - as he uses soft kitten licks to loosen you up. Your juices taste heavenly, and he laps up every ounce that flows from the core of you. Eventually, you relax into his mouth and your moans become more desperate. You need more and you communicate this by pulling Frankie in even deeper, your hands tight in his hair. 
“Jesus Christ”, he groans. “Tell me what you need, baby.”
“Fingers, Frankie. I need your fingers.”, you plead, hoping he’ll take pity on you. 
And he does, by some miracle, pressing two inside you and immediately curling them up. You’re soon ready for another, and he adds a third, causing you to pout at him as your orgasm grows closer. The way you’re trying your best to ride his fingers, yet also sink further back into the bed like a pillow princess, is endearing to Frankie, as he can’t help but watch how you take him. Fuck, you’re beautiful like this. Underneath him. He needs you to come on his fingers and his tongue and he decides he can’t wait much longer.
“There you go, pretty girl. You’ve got something to clench down on. Something to cum on.”, says Frankie, and his words have your eyes rolling back. He’s got a dirty mouth and it’s doing all the right things to you.
He moves his mouth back to your clit, sucking it into his mouth. Applying the perfect amount of pressure, he’s got you whining out his name as you stretch your arms above your head, gripping the pillow you find there to anchor you - otherwise, you’re sure you’ll float away. 
It doesn’t take Frankie much longer to push you to the edge, and he gets a little rougher, much to your delight. You’re suddenly thankful for the pillow you’re grabbing onto, as his hands grip both of your ass cheeks, pulling your cunt up to his mouth and there’s nowhere for you to run. His grip is unrelenting; all you can do is lie there and take it as his tongue lashes against your clit. The absence of his fingers leaves you feeling empty, though you’re not complaining, as the way he’s clutching your hips allows him to really wreck you with his mouth. And what a mouth that man has. 
You’re writhing on the bed, your orgasm so close that your body’s going crazy; arching and stretching as it tries to hit that spot to send you over the edge. It comes as no surprise, however, that Frankie’s words finish you off.
“That’s it, baby. Know you need to cum. Need it so bad you’re whimpering for it.”
“Come on now, give it to me. I know you can. Cum and I’ll give you my fingers to ride it out on.”, he says, and you cum. Hard. 
“Frankie. Oh my god, Frankie”, you moan out like a madwoman and Frankie plunges his fingers back into your pussy as you cum all over his face. 
You can’t help but chase every wave of your high, and you push your cunt down on his fingers like you can’t get enough of what he’s giving you. Somehow, you’re able to remember what Frankie told you before, and you begin to chant “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” as you ride out your orgasm. 
There’s a cheeky smile playing on your lips and Frankie lets out his own throaty chuckle at your sass. And that’s when it hits him. 
One time isn’t enough. 
He can’t give you up just yet. 
****
The two of you soon get into a rhythm. 
You alternate between your place and his, spending most nights together each week. It’s after a few weeks of this routine that you realise: you’ve got yourself a ‘fuck buddy’ after all.
But you wouldn’t dream of telling Benny. Or Will. Or Santi. You weren’t ready to burst the bubble and face reality yet. You were perfectly happy indulging in each other’s bodies, sheltered from the pressures of the outside world. 
The sex is incredible. You know it, and Frankie most definitely knows it too.
You’ve come to know Frankie’s body so intimately, it sends a shiver down your spine just from thinking about it. You know what makes him tick. What makes him abandon his resolve and cum for you. You know how to draw particular sounds from him; his moans, his whimpers, his shouts, even. You had become a Frankie connoisseur in what seemed like no time.
Actually, it had only been a few weeks, yet things seemed to be moving at pace.
Having been friends before all this began, neither of you was inclined to kick the other person out after you were done rolling around in the sheets. So, naturally, then came the lingering. 
You both had taken to lingering a little while longer after the post-coital high faded. 
One time, you had hopped in the shower, and when you were done, you found Frankie on the phone to your local pizzeria. You hadn’t even questioned how he knew your order, putting it down to the fact you were friends before this. Still, it caused an unfamiliar feeling to stir in your chest, and some small part of you didn’t hate the gesture. 
You start showering together, too.
The first time it happened, you were still giggling over something Frankie had said. You’d riled him up and he’d taken you on, finding it way too easy to laugh with you. You’d been poking fun at him after he’d shared quite an embarrassing story from his days in service and he had decided to take a shower to escape your teasing. However, you didn’t want to let the moment go, just yet - so you followed him into the bathroom. 
He had just stepped under the spray of water when he heard your girlish giggle getting louder. Frankie tried his hardest to steel himself, but your happiness was infectious and he couldn’t help but be affected, dropping his head forward with a content smile as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. And since then, this became a frequent part of your routine. 
On several occasions, you slept over at Frankie’s place and he drove you to work the next day. 
You struggled with this. You weren’t going to lie. The thought of one of your colleagues spotting you, and the gossip that would ensue, concerned you. But you brushed it off each time.
After all, it meant that Frankie would take you home as well - and that came with its own benefits.
You’d gotten into the habit of getting him all worked up on those days he was due to pick you up, deciding it was fun to have him show up wrecked and so hard for you. Sometimes he drove a little faster, gripped your thigh a little tighter, and braked a little harder as he rushed to get the two of you to someplace private. Whilst other times he’d take to finding a discreet place to park his car. 
Yeah, those were the days you’d texted him something filthy.
You figured out quite early that you were both into dirty talk, but you weren’t expecting it to escalate in the way it did. 
An incident occurred at the Millers’ BBQ, where everyone in the neighbourhood appeared to be out in full force. Despite you and Frankie pledging to behave yourselves, you couldn’t help but sneak off upstairs when the moment presented itself. You had to remind yourself that Benny had probably done the same, if not much worse, in your own bathroom as you let Frankie sit you up on the counter; his broad frame crowding you against the mirror and your heels digging into his back. He had come to love when you’d communicate how much you needed him by sinking your stilettos into him like a vice. It was a kind of foreplay and he was very much here for it. 
It was at that moment when he said it, as he had you spread out on the counter in your friend’s bathroom, fucking you good. 
You could’ve blamed it on the slight buzz of alcohol running through his veins. Or the fact you had been fucking each other a lot. The latter was more rational, you realised, yet you didn’t want to dwell on how you two got to this point. The anxiety and regret would creep back in, and you were having way too much to let yourself ruin it by overthinking.
“Fuck…Cariño. Feels so good. You like that, huh?”, he said.
You’d mewled out a “Yeah”, knowing Frankie needed to hear the praise, needed you to use your words.
What followed then, was a veiled threat to your dynamic. “Yeah…”, he groaned out. “You like it, huh? Letting me fuck you like this tight little pussy is mine.”
Frankie loved the way you whined at that, and he was perfectly content to watch you go wild as you took his cock like a champion, but you were getting too loud, so he covered your mouth with his; swallowing your cries of pleasure.
You should’ve noticed then that things were changing between the two of you, but you were too far gone at the time to pay it the attention it needed.
However, Frankie had been paying close attention to you. Specifically, you in his t-shirts, wearing only your panties and pottering around his place like you belonged there. 
You were blissfully unaware of how much this particular sight drove him crazy, but each time you wore one, Frankie died a little inside. He was overcome with the need to possess you. To make you his girl, have everyone know you warmed his bed. 
This feeling also reared its head whenever you called him baby. 
He’d never been one to jump to conclusions and he was definitely not one to overestimate a woman’s feelings towards him. But, against all odds, and because this was you, Frankie found himself desperately clinging to the pet name. He latched onto the idea that, maybe, he was your man and there was nobody else. Of course, Frankie knew what he signed up for. But he could still imagine what it would be like if things were different. 
But, afraid it would scare you off, Frankie subdued these urges every time. He’d often shut down when it all got to be too much for him to contemplate, rushing to another room where he’d make himself look busy. Unfortunately, you interpreted his struggle as him being distant. Closed-off. Emotionally unavailable. And in your eyes, this was the reason why you couldn’t let yourself fall for this man.
Despite the doubts you harboured, neither of you was prepared to stop.
The pace at which things were evolving terrified you, if you were being honest. It was as though you were heading towards a cliff edge, but you had taken the scenic route. 
The views were breathtaking, so you went along for the ride; paying no mind to where you were going.
You hated being unable to control the situation and part of you wanted to turn it around and go back to when you were just friends. Back then, you didn’t owe him anything. You could control the version of yourself you presented to him. But in this arrangement, Frankie was able to catch you off guard, sometimes. When he looked at you like you hung the moon, you felt as though you could fall into him with no parachute - give him more. And that scared you.
Frankie was scared, too.
In fact, he’s worried.
You’re currently enjoying a night out with your girlfriends whilst he’s home alone with his anxiety. 
He knows you can handle yourself, but he’s itching to hear from you. You’re having fun and you don’t need him, but he can’t help but keep glancing at his phone, thinking of texting you. Truthfully, Frankie’s afraid he’ll fade into your background. Every second you spend without him - untethered - is a chance for you to find something better and leave him behind.
He wants to be missed. Needs you to miss him.
However, Frankie’s not prepared to get this deep in a text message to you, so he settles for something a bit lighter. 
Releasing a strained sigh, he decides to bite the bullet and so begins to type out a message.
Meanwhile, in the club, you’re nursing your third margarita of the evening when the text comes through. 
Luckily, you’d agreed to watch the booth whilst your friends went to the bar for more drinks, meaning you were able to take a quick peek at your phone, away from prying eyes. 
You hated the way you doted on his every word, yet still, you ran your eyes over the text a few more times than necessary.
Hope you’re having fun. You know there’s a space in my bed if you want to crash here later.
Slightly buzzed from the cocktails you’d had so far, you aren’t sure whether this new sensation you’re feeling is down to the alcohol, or something else entirely. 
Being your usual flirtatious self, your instinct is to tease Frankie a little.
Your bed? Benny usually lets me crash with him after a girls night. Why should it be your bed, Francisco? X
It’s true. Benny did always offer you a place to stay at the end of the night, but it wasn’t like that. Yet Frankie doesn’t need to know that Benny always takes the couch, letting you sleep like a baby in privacy. Besides, you think it’s fun to rile him up. After all, you’re not sure how far he’ll go, to earn your company tonight. 
He doesn’t respond for a while, and you’re tapping your nails against the back of your phone, thankful that the bar service is slow tonight, delaying your friends’ return.
Fuck…is what comes to mind when Frankie reads your message. He’s driven wild by the thought of you in another man’s bed, even if it’s his friend who he knows has only ever been platonic with you. He’s not proud of his jealousy, as he knows what he signed up for. But he can’t help himself - he needs to give you a reason to end the night in his bed. He needs something that will reassure him: he’s not losing you. Thinking on his feet, despite having spent a solid ten minutes figuring out what to say, he replies.
Come on, baby. You know I can give you what you need tonight. Not sure Benny’s going to cut it. 
Kicking himself as he reads over his words, he knows he needs to give you more, so he sends another.
You think I can’t see through your games, Cariño. When you wake up needy in the middle of the night, it’s my cock you’ll be coming on. 
Oh. He’s playing dirty, you realise. You grab your drink and take a generous taste, needing something to cool you down desperately. 
Is he jealous? Your mind is racing with the possibilities of what this could mean for your relationship. 
Panic swirls in your stomach, letting you know that you may be heading into uncharted territory here. And to make matters worse, a glance to your left alerts you to the fact your friends are on their way back to the table.
You intended to reply with something equally as dirty as what he’d been sending you, yet as you spot your friends getting closer, you freak out and lock your phone, hoping they’re tipsy enough to gloss over the way you’re breathing a little harsher, right now.
You couldn’t deny it, Frankie’s way with words had you feeling hot. Heat pools between your thighs as you dwell on the delicious implications of ending the night in his bed, but you remind yourself that you need to appear unaffected or else you’ll be subject to interrogation.
It didn’t work, judging by Cami’s expression, and you take a moment to prepare yourself for the questions. Yet, there’s a look of real understanding on your friend’s face, like she senses your inner turmoil and feels for you. She assumes you’re tearing yourself apart over something, or someone, and she’s not sure that a crowded club is the right place to bring it up. Deciding to buy you some time, Cami suggests you accompany her to the bathroom.
Shooting her a look of gratitude, you let her lead you into a cubicle, before she turns to face you whilst leaning back against the door. 
You stare up at her from where you’re perched on the toilet, and you know she’s waiting for you to fill her in.
After a few seconds, you succumb. 
“I think I’m in too deep. Shit, Cami. Things are changing, and I don’t know if I like it.”
She doesn’t need you to elaborate. She knows you’re referring to a guy, and from the sounds of it, she can assume it’s casual. Well, supposed to be casual. The way you’re frantically chewing on your lip suggests otherwise.
Always in your corner, yet still firm enough to call you out when it’s needed, Cami’s been by your side long enough to tell when a man’s made a serious impression on you. Deciding it’s time to be firm, she weighs in on the situation.
“Being comfortable has never been enough for you. Change can be good. I know you know that, babe.”, she tells you.
“Who is he?”
You figure there’s no point in delaying the inevitable, so you reveal that it’s “A friend of Benny and Will. Uh…Frankie, the pilot.”
It’s hard to miss the proud smirk that Cami gives you. “Well-played.”, she says, chuckling slightly. “And that’s who you were sexting whilst we were at the bar, right?”
You nod, feeling less overwhelmed after opening up to her.
“Are you planning on showing me, then? I can’t help you blow his mind if you don’t let me see the texts.”, she adds smugly. Instantly putting you at ease.
You don’t need to ask her how she knew you were sexting Frankie, you’re just grateful that she’s a girls’ girl through and through, and you welcome her expertise in the matter. 
Cami’s about to suggest that you send him a flirty picture, with an even flirtier caption, until you scroll further down the conversation and you notice two new messages from the man in question.
It turns out that whilst you were stewing over your lover’s salacious messages, Frankie had gone through the motions, ten times over. He thought he’d pushed you too far. Pushed you away with his jealousy. 
He let himself simmer in his frustration before concluding that your lack of a response signified rejection. Frankie knew he’d shown his hand too soon. He’d fallen at your feet like all the other men, acting like a golden retriever in the way he fought for your attention. 
But still, your rejection hurt. It hurt enough for him to become defensive, trying to regain some of the control he’d forfeited to you. He shouldn’t have said what he said, but he let his emotions get the better of him.
You can’t quite believe what you’re reading, and even Cami appears to be shocked at the words staring back at you.
I get it. You don’t owe me anything, huh?  
And after he hadn’t heard from you for fifteen minutes, he sent another text.
You should stay at Benny’s tonight. Wherever you choose to go, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of options. 
All you see is red. All you feel is the unmistakable tinge of betrayal. You hadn’t expected Frankie to jump to conclusions, and you definitely hadn’t expected your Frankie - who was always so sweet and respectful - to degrade you like this. 
Some part of your brain is able to register Cami’s words and you hear her cursing Frankie with some very colourful language. You’re left feeling blindsided, unable to process his sudden resentment towards you, but nonetheless, you can’t allow yourself to get hung up on it, not when you were surrounded by such remarkable friends. 
You switch your phone off, determined to salvage the rest of your night, before letting Cami drag you to the dancefloor for some much needed release.
It’s no surprise, then, when Frankie’s 3 am apology text fails to come through.
****
Frankie becomes an expert at jumping to conclusions when it comes to you.
After you didn’t reply to his apology, and subsequently screened all of his calls, Frankie didn’t know what else he could do. 
He couldn’t reach you and you hadn’t made an effort to contact him. Hell, he knew he’d fucked up; he shouldn’t have spoken to you in the way he did, but he’d tried to make amends and yet you didn’t seem willing to hear him out.
Frankie doesn’t see you for a while. Eight days, to be exact. 
He knows you’re alright, thank god, as he hears from Will that you’d been offered a promotion at work and that he’d taken you out to dinner to celebrate.
And yet, it doesn’t get easier, he comes to accept, and he finds himself wanting to call you on multiple occasions, and he almost does, but something always stops him in his tracks.
Unable to stop replaying your words over in his head, Frankie’s overthought and overanalysed until the point of exhaustion. You were both to blame, considering neither of you had been willing to speak about your relationship. Expectations, boundaries and outcomes had all been forgotten. You’d gotten swept up in the pleasure and failed to address these crucial concerns, and now you were both reaping what you had sewed. 
It was supposed to be casual. It was supposed to be just sex. 
That’s what Frankie told himself when Benny revealed that he had set him up on a blind date with a mutual friend. 
Neither of you had told Benny, or Will and Santi for that matter, about the two of you and Frankie couldn’t have declined the invitation without arousing suspicion from the youngest of the group. He didn’t know where he stood with you, but he wasn’t going to drop you in it with the boys. He was way too protective of you to let that happen.
So, begrudgingly, Frankie agreed to the date.
The first you heard of the date was through Instagram, and Frankie and Imelda were well into their second drink of the evening by the time you’d found out. 
Turns out, Benny had crashed it around forty-five minutes in, having gotten a text from his friend revealing he wasn’t ‘feeling it’. Taking his wingman duties seriously, Benny wasn’t prepared to let Frankie give in just yet, so had shown up in an attempt to encourage him, and to salvage what was left of the night. Benny had brought a girl friend - whom you both had met whilst at college - hoping the double date vibes would put Frankie at ease, and as she had taken to posting on her story, you were able to poke your nose in.
It wasn’t spying, and you weren’t jealous. But when Stacey posted a picture of the group, you couldn’t help but fixate on the way Frankie had his arm around his date, leaning into her ear, and it looked as though she’d caught them during an intimate moment.
Due to the angle at which the photo had been taken, you couldn’t tell whether Frankie’s lips were just hovering over her ear, or whether they were pressed tight against her skin. His baseball cap cleverly hid the majority of his face from view, but you couldn’t deny what was plain to see. And it drove you mad. Though, you knew your anger wasn’t justified.
Preparing for the worst, you conclude that Frankie’s ready to move on from you. 
You wish you could put your phone aside and let it be. You wish you didn’t care. You wish that the thought of Frankie touching another woman didn’t make you want to die, and you wish you could stop yourself from doing what you were planning to do next.
There’s a fire in your eyes and you realise that, perhaps, you are jealous, though you don’t waste time dwelling on it. If you were going to keep Frankie’s interest, you needed to do something that would throw him off balance and you needed to do it soon. And you knew just what would do the trick. 
You practically run to the bedroom, pulling out one of Frankie’s old army t-shirts that you’d snagged from his place. Getting comfy on your bed, you slip the shirt up your skin until it exposes enough skin to drive your man wild. There was no doubt about it. Frankie adored your breasts, and he also adored the way you loved to tease. You are hoping that this sexy little underboob shot would make him forget all about his date. No disrespect to her, as any woman would be crazy to turn down a date with Francisco Morales, and you feel bad - honestly, you really do. But the anxiety in your chest is pulling you towards the action. Your body’s screaming at you to do something, like it senses that it’s about to lose Frankie’s touch, for good.
You angle your phone just right, so the camera focuses on the way your breasts peek out from under his t-shirt. Whilst you make sure to get your face in the shot, too, as you draw your bottom lip between your teeth and widen your eyes; looking all cute and innocent as you look up at the camera positioned above you. You know you’re anything but innocent right now, but you’re anticipating that Frankie will play right into your trap. As you have it on good authority that the man loves how you play coy, only to whine pathetically when he finally stretches you out with his cock. And by good authority, you’re referring to the way he grips your hips like your body gives him oxygen, or the way his big hands cup the back of your neck, fingers skimming over the side of your throat in a way that says, you’re staying right where I’ve got you. 
Throwing caution to the wind, you press send on the photo and you make sure to add a fitting caption. 
Your girl’s feeling a little lonely. Lucky she’s got your shirt to play in. Would be a shame for you to miss out, tonight. x
And you’ve got him. 
Hook, line and sinker; Frankie’s ready to come crawling back to you like a dog.
When he sees your name light up on his phone, notifying him that you’d sent him a photo, he needs to get somewhere private. And fast. 
He gives Imelda, as well as the other couple, some lame excuse about needing to get his jacket from the truck - just in case they decide to go somewhere with outdoor seating later on - and before he even reaches for his keys, he’s got his phone out ready. Somehow, he manages to hold off on opening your message, wanting to give you his full attention from the comfort of his driver’s seat. And he’s glad he did, as he pulls up the text and is greeted with what could only be described as a treat. Your eyes. Those lips. Your tits in… wait. Is that his shirt? Fuck, he doesn’t know where to look. His eyes rapidly move from each focal point in a frenzy to soak up everything you’d given him. You’d bestowed upon him a gift, and he needed to treasure it. Besides, he hadn’t heard from you in a while and he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to touch you, or even look at you, in this way again. 
And then, he casts his eyes down to the text that follows.
Your girl’s feeling a little lonely. Lucky she’s got your shirt to play in. Would be a shame for you to miss out, tonight. x
He takes a minute to process your words, but he’s unable to move past your girl and your shirt. Did you want him dead? Surely, that was your goal in pushing those exact buttons of his. You’d seen his possessiveness, and until now, Frankie was certain it had pushed you away; overwhelmed you. Were you now encouraging it?
Not wanting to miss his chance, Frankie recomposes himself, just enough for him to be able to send a semi-coherent reply. He also texted Benny, asking him to apologise to Imelda on his behalf and tell her he had to head home, as he wasn’t feeling well. Home wasn’t on the cards tonight, however, as he geared up to head to your place. 
Don’t play too hard without me, baby. On my way over now.
Somewhere on the drive over to yours, Frankie finds himself able to reflect on your relationship. 
Relationship. That word felt foreign on his tongue, but he didn’t hate it, he realised, as he allowed himself to fantasise about a version of you two where you dated, held hands, and openly expressed your affection in front of your friends. 
You’d never given him any indication that you wanted more. Until tonight. 
Frankie’s aware that you’ve given him a crumb, and he’s already dreaming about the whole damn thing, but he can’t help himself from pushing forward.
His attraction, and his appreciation for you had grown, and he often found himself doting on the way you held your coffee in the morning like it was precious cargo, just as much as he doted on the way you went all cock-dumb in his bed after he’d worn you out for hours and hours. He’d begun to notice the little things that made you, you. And he knew he could fall in love with you. It would be so easy. 
Frankie considers how he’s probably ruined it for himself, already. He spoke to you in a derogatory way, that night you were out with the girls, and you’d somehow found out he’d been on a date with another woman. He knows that, on paper, the date isn’t something he should feel guilty for, as you two weren’t exclusive. But you were still involved and he has to admit he hasn't handled things in the best way. 
As he turns onto your street, he concludes that he wants you.
Frankie wants to be with you, and he’s willing to have you in whatever capacity you’re prepared to offer him. If you’re not ready. If you can’t give him what he needs, like the self-sabotaging martyr, he’s willing to take whatever he can get if it means he doesn’t have to give this feeling up. 
Then he’s at your door, trying his hardest to stop the tapping of his foot, which would surely give him away.
You appear from behind it, and he’s a fool not to notice the tears staining your cheeks as he makes his way past you. 
He bounds on you, the force of his kisses backing you up against the kitchen counter. And there are so many words on the tip of your tongue, but you haven’t seen this man in over a week and it’s so easy to fall back in again. 
After he’s somewhat satisfied that you’re real, and you’re here in his arms, he pulls back to address you with a needy tone of voice. One that was unfamiliar to both of you. 
“What was that, huh?” he demands. Looking anywhere but at your face, it’s no surprise that he misses the anguish that clouds your usual playful expression.
After a beat of silence, he pushes again.
“You couldn’t let me try to get over you.”, says Frankie, and this time, you notice the pain in his voice.
It’s like you’re frozen. Paralysed by the weight of everything that’s gone unsaid between you. 
Silence follows. It’s the kind of quiet before a storm, and neither of you knows what to do to protect yourselves. 
He’s holding onto your hips like they’re his altar, and he’s staring down at your body like it will lead him to enlightenment; give him the answers he needs. 
When he moves his gaze back to your face, that’s when he sees the absence of light in your eyes. You look troubled. Uncertain. And Frankie’s kicking himself for not noticing the tears that are streaking your soft skin earlier. What had happened between sending him the photo and now?
Cupping your face with a tenderness unlike the way he had just kissed you so roughly, Frankie’s at a loss for what to do. He just knows he wants to soothe the pain; your pain and his, and make it all better. 
Your silence feels like another dose of rejection, so Frankie takes a step back from you.
He’s amazed at his own courage, as he finds himself needing to communicate what he needs, right now. 
“You know what I want.”, he says.
The look in your eyes tells him you were expecting this conversation. And it crushes him, because he needs you to fight for him. But you won’t. He can see that much from your pained expression and the way your body is curling in on itself. You’re retreating.
And you are retreating. You want so badly to run to him; to hold him in your arms and promise that you’ll try, you’ll give him what he needs. 
You know you could love him right. Some mature part of you wants you to acknowledge that you are falling for him, and have been since the first night. But you’re confused, driven by heightened, raw emotion and you haven’t taken the time to process what you’re feeling for him.
His rejection still stings you, and you struggle to bounce back when you’ve been hurt. You know the adult thing to do is to talk about it - patch things up and move past it. But you’re a creature of habit and what you actually did was stew in your irrational anger, before closing yourself off to him. He’d tried to reach out and you’d crawled deeper into your pit of self-sabotage. Yeah, it wasn’t healthy and perhaps Frankie was better off without the hurt you’d most likely cause him if you gave this thing a chance to grow into something more.
A lot of self-work needed to happen before you’d be ready to let him in; let him sink deeper underneath your skin. 
So you stayed put, whilst your words failed you. 
Frankie’s eyes are raking over you so intensely, awaiting your next move, and all you can do is look anywhere but at him. 
The tension in your body has been stretched too far, and so it snaps. And you’re sure that both of you can hear the way the energy in the room shifts just like that. 
“Francisco… I -”, is all that you manage.
And Frankie feels as though he can read your mind. 
What you meant to say, he thinks, was I can’t give you what you want. 
And he gives you a moment to finish your admission. But nothing comes.
Wanting to be anywhere but here - facing your rejection, again, Frankie pivots towards the front door, ready to leave. 
“I shouldn’t have come here.”, he says.
Then as he darts towards the exit, you call out his name, and his movements still completely.
You continue. “I - … “, before releasing a sigh. 
“Frankie”, you whine, though it’s not like he’s used to hearing. It’s a broken whine, telling him all he needs to know.
You’re not ready.
“Tell me to stay. Tell me you want me.”, he pleads. 
And you think it’s kinder to let him go now. As it’s only a matter of time before you break his heart anyway. 
This arrangement was supposed to be casual. It wasn’t supposed to evolve this way, but you had both fallen in a little too deep, with too little communication. 
Fuck, he’s a good guy. Why won’t you let yourself have this? Have him? 
By now, your delicate tears have given way to distressed sobs, and you need him to walk away from you, so you can let it all out. 
After what feels like an age, Frankie leaves. He realises that he’s powerless. He’d handed over all of his control, to you, and you now held the advantage. 
As you watch the door close behind him, you release the hand that’s covering your mouth and unleash your heartache. 
****
It’s not a secret that you miss him.
Your body feels the loss, as you regress into the shell of your hurt. 
You can’t eat or sleep for the first few days, and when your appetite returns, you’re too anxious to make a run for some groceries. You’d called in sick to work, and that should’ve been a sign that Frankie meant more to you than a ‘fuck buddy’. 
You were grieving him. And as cliché as it sounds, you didn’t know what you had until it was gone. Or more so, you didn’t know that you wanted more until you had nothing.
The days that followed that fateful night in your kitchen were filled with longing. You yearned for the comfort of his body: the softness of his hair underneath your fingers, the sound of his voice over the phone, the way he held you like his favourite memory. You couldn’t bring yourself to wash his clothes that appeared in your laundry; you weren’t ready to erase his scent. It was somehow calm and untamed at the same time. Like Frankie.
You also missed the way he made you feel so needed when he’d beg for your touch.
But physical touch aside, you missed his mind, too.
You found yourself wanting to bask in his dark humour; the way he was often quiet and observant in social situations, only to cut in with something downright philosophical when it counted. Truthfully, you thought a lot about the way he’d listen, hands on his hips and mouth slightly ajar, looking like he was sizing you up, though you knew he held nothing but empathy and respect for those he cared about. 
It was down to you now. You needed to be the one to show up, for him. You needed to reach out to him, tell him what he means to you, but you were worried you’d missed your chance. That night in your kitchen couldn’t have been more poetic; he’d come running to you and it would’ve been perfect had you crashed into him with open arms and an open mind. But you didn’t. And that left you playing out scenarios in your head, thinking of all the ways you could confess the depth of your affection to your lover. 
What would he say? 
Would he take you in his arms and vow to forget the past? 
Would he be forgiving? Or would he be guarded, detached?
You imagined the latter was more likely, though you had come to accept that you were the one responsible for the limbo you were both existing in.
And of all the ways you’d imagined seeing Frankie again, you never expected it to be in the grocery store; dressed for comfort and definitely not to impress. 
He’s got a six-pack of beers in his hand as you let your eyes soak him up. He looks good, but also exhausted, and although your heart aches at the thought of him struggling, the needy part of you latches onto it as evidence of him missing you.
Frankie had once revealed that he loved sharing a bottle of wine with a woman, as he enjoyed getting comfortable enough with a partner to share the pleasant buzz it gave. And that was something you had delighted in, too, before taking it for granted. Though as you glanced back down at the beers he was holding, you were so thankful for his choice of beverage, as it signified there wasn’t someone waiting on him tonight.  
You found yourself wanting to be the one waiting on him. Being the one he came home to every night, and the thought sent a gentle thrill through your body.
So you held on tighter to your tub of ice-cream, channeling your trepidation into the object in question as it gave your hands something to do and slightly quelled the urge to reach out and touch Frankie. 
As you pluck up just enough courage to walk over to him, he reaches for a bag of chips, and you believe he's blissfully unaware of the baggage you’re bringing him. 
The distance between you is not enough, as you know you’re only a few steps away from having to confront this thing. Tail between your legs, you slowly move closer to him. 
Of course, as an ex-veteran, Frankie had clocked you before you even considered approaching him. He’s grateful for this, though, as it gave him a sliver of time to compose himself before you had eyes on his weary form. However, he can’t help but think the way you’re slinking towards him, in an attempt to appear discreet, is cute. Despite how much he wishes he could refrain from becoming even more infatuated with you.
Arguably, the anxiety in his stomach tells Frankie he’s not ready to face you. Though he doubts he could ever feel completely ready. So, at the moment when you become too close to ignore, he lifts his head, knowing his time’s up.
Words aren’t exchanged for a while. Rather, you’re preoccupied with assessing each other; devouring with your eyes what you’ve been deprived of for over a week. 
Frankie knows he can’t be the one to break the silence. It has to be you, and if he gives you this, he’ll never know whether you mean to fight for him. He needs to see you step outside your comfort zone and give him the words you’ve held hostage.
And you do, after a poignant pause. 
“Hi, uh - … you look…good, Frankie.” is all you manage to say. You find a little more confidence as you go on, and the way you breathe out his name with poise gives Frankie hope for what’s to come. 
He doesn’t think it’s the right time for him to speak, though, and he doesn’t want to spook you should you be preparing to speak candidly. So, he doesn’t say anything.
You gesture towards the beers and chips in his basket, “Oh, are you seeing the boys tonight?”
Frankie puts the basket down, then, and folds his arms over his chest. He gives you a quick shake of the head, before telling you “No.” 
He’s trying to appear unbothered, but the way his laboured breaths are visible through his chest tells you otherwise.
You’re fighting the instinct to run but you somehow manage to continue.
“I’m sorry that I hurt you.”, you admit, and then you tell him, “I’ve been thinking about everything. About you. A lot.”
Frankie can’t help himself, and he jumps in, craving your honest disclosure. 
“What do you want. Really?”, he says, and he looks so tired - exhausted by your indecision, and it makes you loathe how avoidant you’ve been with him.
Oh, you think. We’re getting to this now.
“I- I’m not used to… used to letting someone in. Y-You-” and Frankie cuts you off.
“Cariño.”, he says sternly. “I need an answer.”, and he’s begging you.
“Francisco!”, you whine petulantly. And if he couldn’t see the pained expression on your face, he’d be offended. You’re conflicted, and he wants to believe that you’re trying. 
“You want me to tell you how I feel, then listen.”, you assert, before adding a softer “Please”, as you look at him like he could break your heart with any sudden moves.
“Frankie… y-you saw me, like actually took the time to learn it all. I couldn’t hide. I thought you’d find something that would make you leave me alone, and I wasn’t prepared to l-lose it.”
He leans closer, ever so slightly and it’s the encouragement you need to continue.
“Didn’t want to lose you, Frankie. You’re a good man. A man I could love, and… and I was happy but I was afraid it couldn’t last. S-so I kept going back and forth, daring you to stay. Seeing if you’d give up.”, you say, and the last five words come out sounding more uncertain than the rest.
Meanwhile, Frankie’s processing. He inhales every word out of your mouth like he’s gasping for breath. He’s needed to hear this - hear you - and it feels long overdue.
Your strength doesn’t fade, as you continue.
“I don’t know if I deserve you.”, you confess softly, before revealing, “You could be better off with someone else.”, and you can’t look him in the eye as you share such a deep-rooted insecurity with the man you’d come to adore.
It’s genuine, everything you’re saying, and Frankie sees that you’re trying, for him. He’s finding it hard not to say fuck mature communication and comfort you, knowing you could do with some physical touch to ground you. He wants to kiss you until all your worries dissipate, hating the thought that you could ever underestimate yourself in this way. If only you saw what Frankie saw when he looked at you, you’d be walking on air.
But he knows he needs to tread carefully. You’re giving him an inch, and he wants a mile, but he knows you. Knows the vulnerability you’re slowly welcoming is a lot for you, right now, and he’s appreciative regardless.
Then, you go and throw him a curveball. 
Taking a risk, you move in even closer, until your feet are practically covering his, and you’re looking up at him with an innocence and vulnerability in your eyes that you reserve for him, only.
And your voice wobbles as you say, “Shit, Frankie. I need you.”
He looks down at you and you appear so small and fragile beneath his gaze. There’s no trace of your usual playfulness or moxie on your expression. And in your voice, there’s no trace of the pretence you sometimes hide behind when forced to confront your emotions. And Frankie registers that you must really mean it this time.
He needs to believe that you mean it. That you really need him, as the alternative is something he’s not prepared to brave.
Arguably, you’ve put yourself out there this time, and Frankie would be lying if he said he wasn’t concerned about you reverting back to reticence, should he give you another chance. Who’s to say you’ll maintain this level of communication with him? He can’t go through this again if you aren’t truly invested in moving forward.
“Fuck, I never thought we’d be stood in a grocery store having this conversation.”, you add to ease the tension, and the way Frankie lets out a breathy chuckle tells you he’s just as grateful for the relief from the heaviness.
After a moment of intense deliberation, Frankie arrives at his choice.
He understands that acknowledgement is only the start, and he needs to see that you’re willing to commit to something more, whatever that may be.
But right there on the confectionery aisle, as the artificial lighting of the store illuminates every emotion on your face - and he sees the fear, the concern, and the tenderness that gives you away, Frankie decides that he needs you. 
And, like an addict, he swears to have you in whatever capacity he can get.
You can’t read him, and you’re on edge awaiting his response.
Then with a newfound sense of ease, Frankie picks up the six-pack from the basket beside you, as you watch his every move; afraid you’ll miss something. 
He gestures to the beers, before the slightest hint of a smirk greets you from beneath his baseball cap.
“How about we swap these for some of that wine you like? Then we can head back to my place. Talk some more.” he says.
And he knows those last three words could scare you off. 
Yet as you take his hand, pulling him over to the aisle you need, Frankie feels hopeful. 
It’s a kind of hope that simultaneously scares and excites him, and right now, he’s okay with that.
Thank you for reading! Please consider commenting, liking or reblogging if you enjoyed it. <3
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tightjeansjavi · 1 month
Note
hi hi hi!! happy sleepover and happy one year of writing fic! 🩷 i’d love to request a little drabble (as i’m writing this I realize I can’t remember which emoji that is please forgive me) for frankie!! maybe like late night/rainy night vibes? x
Liv, baby, thank you for requesting this 🥺 I love me some soft soft Frankie
-
all my dreamin’
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A/N: I love Frankie, and I love rainy nights 🥺
~word count: 485~
Summary: Frankie is rich with his love for you
Pairing | frankie morales x f!reader
Warnings: none, just some soft Frankie fluff, one mention of alcohol, established relationship, domestic intimacy, no age gap (no mention of age) +18 minors dni!
Translations:
mi vida - my life
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Rain lightly patters against the window of yours and Frankie’s shared apartment. It’s late, half past midnight when the storm has started and Frankie hasn't returned home yet.
You’re used to the late nights without him. After long hours of working a construction job with the rest of the guys, Frankie would always be coaxed into having a drink at the local watering hole. One beer that he would sip for the next few hours before retiring home to you.
He was working extra shifts just to scrape up a bit more money for rent on top of your office gig. Money may be tight, but you and Frankie made things work. It was a relationship built upon mutual trust, and understanding.
-
When he returns home it’s one a.m. He’s quiet, not wanting to disturb you. He places his keys and wallet in the little bowl next to the door right next to your keys. He locks the front door, double checking it a couple times before deciding that it was in fact locked. He unlaces his boots, setting them down on the doormat.
It’s raining heavily now, thunder rumbling in the distance, and a bright flash of lighting casted shadows on the wall before he was plunged back into darkness once more. While he’s in the kitchen grabbing a glass of water, he notices a new drip in the ceiling and places an empty pot under it so that the water could collect there.
I’ll work on fixing that tomorrow. He thinks.
His socks have been worn so many times that there’s holes forming in the worn fabric. He refuses to replace them, despite your thoughtful nagging that there’s nothing wrong with buying new socks, Francisco.
But then I can’t spend my money spoiling you, mi vida.
You just roll your eyes, smile tugging on the corner of your lips.
When he gently pushes open the door to your shared bedroom, the first thing he notices is a brand new pack of socks on his nightstand. He lets out a soft huff, shaking his head as he picks up the socks and glances over at your sleeping frame under the comforter.
You little shit.
He sets the socks down along with his hat along the nightstand, scrubbing a hand down his face with a heavy sigh.
He’s slow to undress, feeling sleep begin to pinch the corner of his eyes as he tosses his clothes on the floor and crawls under the covers. His arm snakes around your waist, tucking himself around you, lips brushing the back of your neck in a tender sweep.
You stir, but don’t awake from your dreamland.
He squeezes you gently, breathing in your scent—the smell of clean linen and freshly fallen rain.
The ceiling may need patching, and his socks may have holes in them, but he’s rich in another way: he’s rich with love.
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Banners made by the lovely @saradika 💗
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luvrxbunny · 7 months
Text
imagine a dom who just always needs to cum. he’s constantly coming to you, chest all puffed out, prideful cus ofc you want it. but every time he gets in you he’s moaning like a bitch
cus in truth it takes a lot of courage for him to come to you so chances are, he’s been waiting for hours, working up the courage to ask you for help emptying his balls.
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tropes-and-tales · 5 months
Text
🤮 FINALLY
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Day 9:  Exhibitionism (Frankie "Catfish" Morales x F!Reader)
(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!) 
CW:  Light angst, kinda; idiots in love; enemies to lovers but not really; smut (fingering; exhibitionism; PiV, unprotected); 18+ only.
Word Count:  5553
AN:  This was requested by @elegantmusicdragon!
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The cabin is small:  it only has two bedrooms.  The Miller brothers claim the loft bedroom on the second floor, the steep eaves of the roof leaving barely enough room for Will and Ben.  Pope, as the group’s resident planner, helps himself to the slightly larger bedroom on the first floor.
It leaves you and Frankie in the living room.  There’s a lumpy couch; there’s a thin, rolled-up mattress for the floor.
There’s also a fair amount of antagonism between the two of you.  It’s not complete hatred:  it’s love-hate, maybe.  Begrudging respect.  Admiration, but only if someone put a gun to your head and made you admit it.
You just irritate each other.  Too similar in some ways, too different in others.  Polar opposites in some aspects, the same person in others.  It’s been the same as long as you’ve known each other:  there’s a low-simmering annoyance with each other that eventually blows up in a fight, then cools off in a period of niceness until it cedes back to annoyance.  It’s been that way for as long as you’ve known each other—for years.
The hooking up is new.
The hooking up is so new the guys don’t know about it.  You haven’t been hooking up long enough to get caught.  Hell, it’s so new that even the two of you can barely fathom it.  Each time a dalliance ends, you both have the same stunned, sheepish expression, like neither of you can believe it happened.
But it keeps happening:  Frankie shows up at your door in the middle of the night.  You turn up on his porch on a Sunday afternoon.  You call each other; the other comes over eagerly enough.  The two of you sneak off at a group hang-out, and you reappear long moments later to the larger group one at a time, flustered or overcompensating by being too casual.
“We can’t keep doing this,” you told him the last time you hooked up.
“Obviously not,” he agreed.  “This is insane.”
Neither of you really meant it.
-----
The cabin is a thing Pope is trying to do.  It’s a tradition he wants to start in the wake of Tom’s death.  A way to keep everyone together, even if just for a long weekend every fall:  the gang may drift apart, but they can reassemble once a year at least, for good food and drink and sitting around the campfire.
Thursday, and everyone rolls into the rental property where the cabin is perched along the shore of a lake.  The Miller brothers turn up together; Frankie comes alone.  You catch a ride with Pope since he flew into your hometown.
Thursday, and it’s just take-out pizza and beer from the nearby village.  It’s stocking the cabin with provisions, unpacking, settling in, claiming where you’ll each sleep for the weekend.  Pope builds a fire in the massive fire pit outside just as the sun is setting, and Frankie feels a calm settle over his nerves.  He’s been clean now for over a year, but the cravings come and go.  He glances across from him and studies where you sit between Will and Pope:  the firelight casts you in an orange light, throws your features in sharp relief where shadows fall.  You’re quiet tonight—maybe your nerves are bad too.  Frankie knows you have your own anxieties.
Thursday, and when it’s time to turn in, you don’t even bother to fight Frankie for the mattress on the floor.  You take the lumpy couch, and you fall off to sleep within minutes, leaving Frankie to lie awake with his own thoughts for a long while.
-----
Friday, and everyone is back in their groove with each other.  There’s the usual laughter, the usual ribbing.  Pope knocks Frankie’s hat off his head.  Ben feigns a series of punches at Pope.  Will wraps his arm around your waist and spins you until you slap at his arm and shriek for him to release you.  It’s easy and familiar, like slipping into a faded old t-shirt washed to velvety softness.
Pope organizes a hike to the summit of a nearby mountain.  The weather is so crisp and the air so clean it hurts Frankie’s sinuses to breathe.  At the summit, the views are spectacular, stretching for miles in all directions, the hills and dales and low-slung mountains of this patch of Appalachia.  Frankie is reminded that not everything is so complicated:  there are swaths of wilderness where life is simple, where his problems seem small and inconsequential. 
You all settle on a flat stretch of rock and eat lunch, sandwiches and apples from a farmstand in town that you packed in for the hike.  Frankie watches you peel out of your boots and socks and stretch your bare feet against the sun-warmed rock.  The conversation flows naturally; everyone shares their latest life updates, their hopes for the near-future. 
If Tom is with you, his ghost rests lightly between the five of you.
On the hike back, there’s a tricky stretch of the trail, a switchback that was easier to climb up than it is to climb down.  Frankie is behind you, taking up the rear, and he loses the rhythm of his hiking cadence when you suddenly balk.  He pulls up just in time to not run into you.
“C’mon,” he grumbles, exasperated.  With Pope at the head of the group, Frankie has just been on auto-pilot, his feet leading him forward, but now he’s been yanked out of his reverie by your sudden stopping.
“Ground’s covered in scree,” you reply.  Frankie watches as you take a tentative step forward, reach out a steadying hand along the outcropping of rock.  You do this sometimes, he knows—you have sudden moments of freezing up, afraid to fall, afraid to stumble and jam up a wrist or twist an ankle.  Frankie watches in exasperation as you suddenly transform from an assured hiker to a bumbling newborn foal, all shaky legged and trembling hands.
“C’mon,” he repeats.  “Move.”
“Don’t rush me.”  The words come out tense, pushed out between clenched teeth.  You hate being weak, sure, but you hate being weak in front of others—especially Frankie.
“Don’t be a baby.”
“I’m not.”  You take another careful step forward, your toe knocking some of the scree loose. 
“It’s not even that steep here.”
“I’m going as fast as I feel comfortable.”  You turn your head, glance at him, and Frankie sees the animal panic in your wide, unblinking eyes, your nostrils flaring as you take shallow breaths.  “Go around if you have to.”
He doesn’t have to go around you but he does.  He heaves a sigh, edges around you on the trail, and he doesn’t miss the quiet little whimper of fear as you press yourself against the face of the mountain to make room for him.  He doesn’t glance back to see that you’re fully frozen now, not moving at all—until Ben notices and reverses back to rescue you.
“Overthinking it?” he asks.  Frankie can’t make out your reply, but it makes Ben chuckle, then add, “well, let’s get you off this part then, yeah?”
Friday, and Frankie learns that there’s an ugly streak of jealousy in him.  Ben manages to peel you off of the mountain face with gentle teasing and good humor, and Ben is the one to wipe away the couple of shaky tears that squeezed out during your crisis of courage.  The group rearranges itself:  Pope then Will, then Frankie, and you and Ben at the rear, and Frankie seethes the rest of the hike back to hear the two of you joking and teasing.
Friday, and Frankie learns that he can be jealous over you.  He’s quiet over dinner as he turns over this new intel about himself. 
Friday, and when it’s time to turn in, you take the couch again.  Frankie lies awake and watches you in the faint silvery moonlight streaming in through the curtains, and he berates himself for letting Ben step in where he could have intervened.  Frankie could have been kinder, could have helped you.  You’ve never been cruel to him about his own struggles.  A little episode of panic on a low-stakes hike would have cost him nothing in terms of kindness.
Frankie does something he’s never done before with you.
“Hey,” he whispers.  “You awake?”
You huff out heavy breath, a low groan.  “I am now.”
A long stretch of silence passes.  Frankie can’t quite get the words out; his tongue feels like it’s glued to the roof of his mouth.  Enough time passes that you sigh again, roll over on the squeaky couch.
“Sorry,” he manages to mutter.  It comes out gruffer than he’d like, more mean-sounding. 
“What?”
“I said I’m sorry.”  Now he sounds defensive, a bit petulant.
“Oh.”  A beat, then, “for what?”
He rolls over on the mattress and faces where you lie feet apart from him, slightly higher than him on the couch.  “For being a dick on the hike.”
“Ah.”
There’s another long beat of silence, and then the room lights up as you turn your phone on.  He hears you tapping on it, and he asks what you’re doing.
“Just marking the date and time.  Latitude and longitude.”  In the white light cast across your face, Frankie can see your smirk.  “Need to know where to put the memorial plaque when the time comes.”
“Huh?”
“You know.”  You lock your phone and toss it aside, and Frankie hears you roll over to face him.  In the scant light from the moon, he can just make out your face, still smirking.  “The commemorative plaque.  On this place and on such-and-such date, Francisco Morales offered the first apology in his life.”
Frankie bristles.  “Funny, but I’ve apologized lots of times before.”  He thinks of his ex-wife, his mother, Tom’s wife.  He’s apologized plenty:  for his bad behavior, for his poor choices, for all the ways he’s lacked as a son or a husband or a teammate.
“Not to me you haven’t.”
“Bullshit.”  He rolls onto his back and stares up at the rough-hewn boards of the cabin’s ceiling.  “I probably have.”
“Bullshit,” you retort.  “You haven’t.”
“Well now I have, and I damned well regret it.”
You laugh softly, but it doesn’t have its usual bitter edge to it.  You don’t add anything for so long that Frankie’s eyelids start to get heavy, but just as sleep starts to lap around his ankles, he hears you say, far softer than before, “I appreciate it, Fish.”
Friday, then:  Frankie learns he has a jealous streak for you, and he learns that he can feel ashamed of how he sometimes treats you.  Both revelations pale in comparison to how he feels to own up to his less-than-stellar behavior…and how he feels when you accept his apology rather than retaliate with your own less-than-stellar behavior.
-----
Saturday, and the day starts promising:  sun in the blue sky, bird song, the wind rustling through the leaves.  Storm clouds gather after noon, low and fast-moving, blotting out the sky, and the evening turns into a torrential storm.
You and Pope go into town to pick up more beer, a bottle of wine for dinner.  Frankie and the Miller boys stay behind.  Ben gets a headache and goes to nap it off, which leaves Frankie and Will alone on the cabin’s porch, watching the rain disturb the mirror surface of the lake as they nurse a couple of longnecks.
“Good to have everyone here,” Will offers after a while.
Frankie grunts in agreement.  He doesn’t mention Tom, and neither does Will.
Will handles the bulk of the conversation, which is really just gossip about you and Pope and Ben since you’re all absent.  It doesn’t come across as especially catty, though, since Will spins everything in his motivational lingo.
Then Will touches on you and Frankie’s rocky relationship.  He takes a sip from his bottle and gives Frankie a sidelong glance, says, “heard the two of you talking last night.  Surprised it didn’t end in yelling.”
Frankie snorts and takes a drink of his own beer.  “First time for everything.”  He shakes his head, rueful, and adds, “we’ve just never got along.  You know that.”
Will nods in that irritatingly sage way he has now.  “Well, you’re both crabs.”
“She makes me crabby.  I’m usually fine otherwise.”
The man chuckles and shake his head.  “Nah, I mean you’re both crabs.  You’ve both got tough shells.  Even if you could get out of your own shell, you’d have to get past hers and vice versa.  Double walls up, whatever you want to call it.  Makes it tough to connect.”
Frankie bites back the obvious response:  that you and he connect plenty, in a carnal way, and that Will’s dumb analogy would crumble the moment Frankie mentions that the two of you fuck often, and that you don’t have a tough shell when he’s balls deep in you.  Instead, he snorts again and says, “okay,” heavy on the sarcasm.
“The problem with a crab’s shell though,” Will adds in that faux-wise tone of his, “is that if you don’t shed them once in a while you can never grow.”
Frankie almost wishes you were here to hear this bullshit too.  You’re irritating, but as a fellow crab, you’d tell Will to fuck off, to go play shrink with someone else.
-----
You and Pope return, and the two of you handle dinner together.  Pope sears the steaks on the grill outside; you make fresh pasta and sauté late-season vegetables.  Ben is pulled from the loft bedroom by the scent of the food, headache gone, and everyone circles up around the table to eat and drink. 
The fire snaps in the fireplace and the rain drums against the roof, and Frankie hasn’t felt so relaxed since South America and the scramble over the Andes that ultimately claimed Tom’s life.  He glances around the table, and it occurs to him that aside from his parents, the people he loves best in the world are all right here with him.  Even you, he supposes.
He lets the good food and drink and warmth of the fire work against his anxiety.  He feels the snarls and tangles of his tight muscles—those perpetually tense shoulders hiked up near his ears—unlock.  He feels all those bad feelings, the constant self-doubt and low-level depression ebb into the distance.  He is lulled into a drowsy state as he eats, as he sips at his wine, and he rejoins the conversation in process and finds himself jolted by its subject.
It's Pope needling you, and the man is clearly picking up a thread from earlier between the two of you.  He’s asking you about some guy, some guy named Paolo, and Frankie feels an uncomfortable prickle along the back of his neck.
“Just call him sometime,” Pope tells you.  “Grab a coffee or something.”
“Nah, Santi.”  You push a bite of steak around your plate and don’t look up.  “I don’t think so.”
“I think the two of you would get along.”
“I’m not really interested.”
“Why not?” Will interjects, catching up faster than Frankie.  Then to Pope, “you trying to set her up?”
Pope nods at Will’s question as you shrug and mumble something about being out of the dating game for too long, and Frankie stares at you, wills you to look up at him, but you don’t.
“Which is why this is perfect,” Pope replies.  “Paolo is coming out of a long-term thing.  He needs a gentle reintroduction to dating too.  C’mon…what would lunch hurt?  Or dinner?”
“You should think about it,” Will adds.  He glances over at Frankie, catches his eye.  “Might help for you to get out of your shell.”
You laugh at that.  “I think I’m good, William, but thanks.”
Then Ben gets in on it, Ben and Will and Pope cajoling you into dating this Paolo guy.  The Millers point out your paltry dating history, your lack of serious relationships—you’ve never even lived with a guy, let alone edged up against an engagement or marriage.  Pope tells you about Paolo, some coworker in his contracting work with a failed marriage, something about cheating, the man is hurting, blah blah.  Frankie is shocked to find that his jealous streak isn’t just wide but deep—it feels like a bone-deep ache, a cold searing in his gut as the guys egg you on, try to convince you to just meet the dude.
“What do you say, Fish?” Pope asks, and Frankie glances up and finds your eyes settled on him.  There’s a question there, but Frankie can’t see beyond his own tough exterior to know what it is.
“Sure,” he replies with a shrug he hopes looks nonchalant.  “I’m sure this Paolo guy would love to be disappointed by you.”
Which earns him a punch in the shoulder from Ben, who’s sitting beside him, and rolled eyes from Pope, and a disappointed tsk-ing from Will.
Frankie doesn’t see how his barb lands with you, though.  As soon as he launches it, he looks away, looks down at his plate, so he can’t see if you are hurt or not by him.
But he hears your reply to Pope.  He hears you say, “you know what?  Sure.  Give him my number.  I don’t have any better prospects.”
-----
The rest of the evening is a blur.  There’s a robust game of poker, low stakes, and the beer flows steady as the conversation.
Frankie goes mute, only mumbles out monosyllabic answers when the conversation turns to him.  His thoughts turn maudlin.
He always felt a step ahead of the guys.  More mature.  More of a man.  Him and Tom, both:  making the adult choice to marry instead of drifting around in the chaos of the post-army bachelor life.  Where Pope and the Millers lived in bland beige apartment complexes, strung together short-term relationships and hook-ups, Frankie had a house with a wife.  He felt a smug satisfaction when he’d meet up with the guys back then, like he and Tom were the sage elder statemen of the group.
You had been there too, of course, but it was different with you.  Back then, Frankie used to compare you against his wife—you were the other woman in his life, so you were a handy comparison to his wife, Sophia.  You were prickly where Soph was sweet.  Opinionated where Soph wasn’t.  When Frankie held the two of you up, it made Sophie shine brighter.
But now hindsight is twenty-twenty.  Because Frankie always compared the two of you, he can’t help but craft an alternate universe where a marriage to you had faltered and then fell apart.  With Soph, it had been ugly:  she never spoke up, never held him to account for his increasingly bad behavior as his addiction took hold.  She merely left one day—Frankie came home to an empty house and instructions to not reach out to her, that her lawyer would be in touch.
You’re the one who had confronted Frankie.  You’re the one who arranged for the intervention, who chased him when he stormed out, who grabbed him by the arm and shook him, told him he had to get his shit together and get help.  You’re the one who handled everything:  packing his bag, getting him on the plane to the rehab.  You found him a place for when he got out, you and Pope salvaging as much as you could from his marital home before it was sold as part of the divorce.
And now he’s back to square one, but even more so.  He’s divorced.  He’s a recovering addict.  He’s got a bad back and a suspended pilot’s license.  He’s nobody’s bargain, as the song goes, but he wonders how much his low mood right now is linked to you.  Pope and the Millers talk you up, gas you up for this date with Pope’s buddy, and Frankie feels worse and worse the more he realizes you may slip away from him. 
It's a startling revelation that he even cares.  If asked, he’d lie and say he doesn’t, that you can date whoever you want, move away to wherever.  That if he never sees you again, he’ll be perfectly okay, because the two of you have never gotten along and the hooking up has just been two bored, lonely people mutually using each other.
But he remembers a million little moments of you being…not kind, maybe.  You’re prickly with your kindness, you sigh and roll your eyes when you do nice things for him, but you’re the one who started him on the path of recovery.  You’re the one who stood in front of him at Tom’s wake and told him in a low voice that it wasn’t his fault, it was no one’s fault but Tom’s own greed.
Hell, he bets you’ve even taken the couch this whole time in the cabin because of his bad back.
Frankie feels like he’s close to some world-altering revelation, but it’s just beyond his grasp.  Instead, he just stews:  his memories circle around his failed marriage, how he was never further ahead than the guys after all.  His memories shift to you then, circle around you:  the most irritating person he’s ever known, yet the one who probably saved his life.  The frustrating woman who has had his back for years, who squabbles with him and argues with him and (lately) has been fucking him with equal aplomb.
-----
When everyone turns in for the night, Frankie waits a long while before he hisses out your name.  You don’t sigh or groan like he’s woken you up; you answer him by saying his name back with a questioning lilt.
“You can take the mattress if you want,” he whispers.  “If the couch is uncomfortable.”
“It is, but I’m fine.”  A beat, and you confirm his suspicion by adding, “your back.”
“Mattress is wide enough for both of us.”
He hears your quiet snort of laughter.  “Nice try, Fish.”
“What?”
“You know what.  If I lie down with you, you’ll get all handsy.”
Frankie smiles in the darkness.  “You don’t mind my hands usually.”
Some spring deep in the couch squeals as you roll over.  “We said we weren’t doing that anymore.”
“We say that every time,” Frankie points out.  “And then you call me at two in the morning because you need it so bad.”
You snort.  “I never need it.”  You’re silent for a long moment, then add, “and anyway, I’m actually looking forward to meeting Pope’s friend.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m serious.”  Your voice does lose its snarky, insouciant tone—you sound uncharacteristically somber.  “I need to get my shit together.  I’m tired of being alone all the time.”
That stings Frankie a little, like all those moments with him don’t count, even though he knows they don’t.  You’re talking about being alone, all those times you need someone to talk to or cuddle up with or just be with.  Frankie and your hooking up isn’t any of that; it’s a lone moment of physicality without any of the intimacy.
“And you think Paolo is the one then?” he asks, and the name Paolo drips with disdain that he doesn’t bother to hide.  You hear it, too.
“You sound jealous, Fish.”
“’m not.”
“Because I thought I was just gonna disappoint him anyway, so why would you be jealous?”
“Said I’m not.”  He’s not jealous.  He isn’t.  The bloom of hot acid in his gut is something else entirely.  Maybe Pope didn’t cook the steaks thoroughly enough.  Maybe it was too much red wine.
Now your voice turns faux-casual, conversational, like you’re just gabbing with a girlfriend.  “Do you think Paolo is hot?” you ask. 
“Probably looks like a troll doll.”
“I bet he’s big.  Huge.”
“Gross.”
“Bet he’s slinging a real hog around.”
Frankie scoffs.  “Pope said he’s divorced because his wife cheated on him.  He’s probably tiny.”
“Ooooh, you’re definitely jealous.”  Another rustling of your blankets, and then Frankie feels it—your bare foot reaching down and out to where he lays, your cold toes kicking him lightly in the side.  He swats at you, but you pull your foot back at the last minute with a laugh.
“Fuck off,” he grits out.  “I’m not.”
Another playful kick that clips him in the shoulder.  “Aw, Fish, did you fall for me?  Are you in love?  Are you—”
He’s quicker this time, and he catches your foot, catches his hand around your ankle and tugs you towards him.  You squeal; he gets you halfway off the couch but not entirely and there’s a moment of tug-of-war.  Frankie doesn’t release your ankle, and you try to break his hold, but Frankie (who knows how strong you are, how good you are at self-defense) doesn’t think you really fight him that hard.
Instead, you let him pull you the rest of the way onto the floor.  You let him tug you across the short span between the couch and the mattress, and he’d smirk and gloat at how willingly you come to him, but within a second you are beside him.  You smell smoky, like the snapping wood fire of the evening has burrowed into your hair, and you smell like the wet, washed-clean earth and loam, and you smell like the slightly-metallic water of the lake, and Frankie’s mouth finds yours, seals over yours, steals away any other teasing or arguing you may do.
Part of him hates how well the two of you fit together.  For as much as you squabble and irritate each other, in these moments, you are perfectly in line with each other.  On the same wavelength.  Frankie kisses you deeply, tastes you beyond the mint of your toothpaste, and he still—even after all these moments, all these stolen interludes—gets a fluttery swoop in his gut when you slide your tongue against his.
He maneuvers you underneath him and you go willingly.  Eagerly.  He wishes sometimes he could read your mind.  He wonders what you’re thinking in these moments.  Have you been lying beside him the past few nights, wanting this to happen?  Or are you only riled up and slick to his searching fingers because of the idea of this Paolo, a man who could theoretically assuage your loneliness?
The thought makes that deep streak of jealousy pulse inside him, so he breaks the kiss as his fingers slide into you.  He feels how wet you are, always wet and hot for him, and he hisses into your ear, “this for me?”
“Fuck off, Fish.”  You whisper it back, and in the wan moonlight, Frankie can see you glaring up at him. 
He pulls his finger out, adds a second, pushes both into you.  He catches how your eyelids flutter, how your lips part at the stretch of his digits.  He studies your face as he pulls out, pushes back in a handful of times.
“Tell me,” he demands.  He keeps his voice low, aware that the Millers are asleep in the loft above you and Pope is asleep in the bedroom just beyond the small galley kitchen.
“I said fuck off.”  You enunciate the fuck clearly, catch your lower lip between your teeth as you hiss out the eff.  As guilty as Frankie feels to compare you to his ex-wife, the differences are never more stark than here:  Sophie had been completely soft, completely submissive in the bedroom, never quite willing to do more than a handful of positions or situations.  Fucking you is like wrestling a wild cat sometimes, and you make him work for it, and Frankie kinda loves it.
He clucks his tongue in mock sympathy.  He pushes his two fingers into you as deep as he can, then crooks them inside you, strokes your inner wall until you gasp underneath him.
“There it is,” he croons.  He dips his head, drags the slick muscle of his tongue along your pulse point where your heartbeat jumps and thunders away.  “Knew I’d find it.”
“Fish—”
“Always find it.”  He moves his thumb, presses it lightly against your swollen clit.  “Pope’s dumb fucking buddy could never.”
You laugh but it’s breathless as he works his hand against you.  You tangle a hand in his hair and tug against him, steer his head back to you.
“Knew you were jealous, you asshole,” you whisper.  You surge forward and nip at the side of his neck, and he bites back his own groan, hushes you, reminds you that the guys are nearby and you have to be quiet.
Frankie reaches down and shoves his sweatpants down enough to free his aching cock, and he doesn’t even bother to get you out of your sleep shorts.  He only shoves them to the side and then removes his hand, guides his cock to replace his fingers.  He hears the low groan you give at the contact, so he reaches up a hand and covers your mouth and pushes into you in one firm, deep thrust.  His hand absorbs your moan as he mounts you, but he looses his own groan to be back inside your clenching heat.  You both freeze for a long moment—his cock twitching inside you, your cunt bearing down on him—but none of the guys make a noise, so you proceed as quietly as you can.
You’re not nearly quiet enough.
*****
Pope is woken by the sound of a thump, like a body hitting the floor. 
That’s exactly what it is:  Frankie yanking you off of the couch, and just as Pope starts to wake up, starts to swing around and put his feet on the floor, he hears a moan.
Ben sleeps like the dead and hears nothing:  not you and Frankie squabbling in whispers, not you and Frankie fucking, and not the furious clicking of Will in the other bed, texting back and forth with Pope.  He’s only woken up later.
Will hears everything.  He never fell asleep at all, only drowsed a bit, so he heard you and Frankie talking down below.
Then he hears the same thump as Pope, then the same moan.
His first thought is that Frankie has made you cry, that Frankie has said something mean enough to break that tough dam that holds back your emotions.  But then he hears a gasp (yours), a low chuckle (Frankie’s) and he realizes what he’s hearing.
“Holy shit,” he breathes out.  “No way.”
His cell phone, silenced, lights up with a message.  Will unlocks it and sees that it is Pope.
Please tell me I’m not hearing what I think I’m hearing, the text reads.
Will responds.  Not sure, he types.
Pope:  You got eyes on them???
Will:  No way
Pope:  Sounds like she’s crying. Need confirmation.
Will:  NO
Pope:  Ur in the loft.  Confirm.
Will sighs, mutters “fuck.”  It does sound like you’re crying and trying to hide it, breathy, bitten-back moans that could be crying or could be…you and Frankie fucking.
The former seems unlikely.  Will’s never seen you cry, and he thinks he’s only heard you once—a similar gasping sound, through a flimsy motel room wall in Central America as you made your way back to the States with Tom’s body.
The latter—the thought of you and Frankie fucking—seems even more unlikely.  Yet when he freezes, when he holds his own breath so long he hears his heart beating in his ears, Will swears he can hear the quiet rustling of fabric, heavy breathing that sounds more like Frankie.
He moves as slow as if he were on a mission.  He turns around on the trundle bed and crawls to the edge of it, a millimeter at a time.  He reaches the open doorway of the loft; there is no door, and it looks down at the first floor, and when he peers over the railing, he sees the two of you awash in silvery moonlight.
Frankie, on top of you.  Your knees on either side of Frankie’s hips, one hand gripping his curls at the nape of his neck, the other hand reaching down and grasping his ass, guiding him where he fucks into you in slow, deep strokes.
Will doesn’t know why he never saw it before.  This can’t be the first time between you—you move too well together.  The two of you have always grated against each other, but no one ever really thought it was hatred.  You and Frankie love each other in your own way, Will guesses, and maybe this is just a facet of that.
You helping Frankie get clean:  another facet of that love.
Frankie going silent at the thought of you dating Pope’s work buddy:  another facet of that love, perhaps?
Will retreats just as slowly.  He doesn’t want to ruin the moment, though he thinks he’ll need therapy to erase the vision of the two of you fucking from his mind.  He climbs back into bed carefully, then texts Pope.
She’s not crying, he types out. 
She’s not??? Pope replies.
Yeah, dude, Will types.  She and Fish are fucking.
Pope responds with a puking emoji first, but then he adds, FINALLY.
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Sunday Naps
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Summary: It's Sunday, which means it's time for your favorite weekend activity- an afternoon nap with Frankie. But when Frankie finds himself awake before you with an interesting problem, he knows just the way to wake you up, too.
Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (no use of y/n, established relationship)
Word Count: 2.6K (The self restraint on this was UNREAL)
Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't do this irl), VERY CONSENSUAL Somnophilia, oral sex (f receiving), creampie, praise kink, this is porn with no plot, reader has no physical descriptions (but pls let me know if I missed any!!)Frankie being a menace but also literally the sweetest man alive, Frankie's a Tampa Bay Buc's fan (idk, if he lives in Florida, this makes the most sense to me, I will not elaborate), napping during football bc me too, girl
A/N: This is my first time writing somno so pls be nice, I am NERVY😭 I hope y'all enjoy, Frankie Morales is forever making me swoon, and I just know in my heart that this man absolutely loves to nap and is the world's biggest snuggler 🥺💕 not beta'd bc that's just how I roll
Before you had met Frankie, Sunday was arguably the worst of the weekend days- looming stress of the work week ahead, mettled with to-do’s and other chores before Monday got the best of you. There were very few times that you had found yourself anxiously awaiting a Sunday, but since Frankie? Sundays had easily become one of your favorite days of the week.  
Slow and easy going mornings where Frankie brought you coffee as the sun rose before tangling your bodies between the sheets in a mess of soft and unrushed sex, followed by cuddling and leisurely making your way out of bed for breakfast, awaiting a relaxing day ahead of you. 
Now that it was fall, it also meant football season, and while you didn’t really care either way about the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, you enjoyed any time that you got to spend cuddled up next to Frankie on the couch, considering more often than not, it normally resulted in the two of you fucking during half-time, followed by you promptly napping wrapped in Frankie’s arms for the better part of the 2nd half.  
This Sunday was no different, you and Frankie had found yourself happily snuggled on your couch under your favorite fluffy blanket, Buccaneers game on in the background, Frankie’s arm draped around you as you leaned against his chest, soaking in the familiar warmth and scent of him radiating from the worn cotton of his t-shirt as you felt your eyelids slowly begin to droop heavier and heavier. With the way Frankie had been mindlessly rubbing soft, gentle circles against your back, his thumb dancing in swirling patterns across your skin, it wasn’t long before the comfort of being held in Frankie’s arms had completely washed over you, and you had found yourself fast asleep well before the start of the second quarter. 
What you hadn’t realized, was that Frankie had fallen asleep not long after you, the weight of your body pressed against his, along with the long week he’d had from work and the symphony of melodic snores now roaring from your parted lips and knocked him out almost equally as fast, leaving the two of you in a blissfully happy pile of nap on another lazy Sunday afternoon. 
That was, until, Frankie found himself wide awake well before you with a very curious problem. 
He was hard as a fucking rock. 
Some way or another in your sleepy, napping state, the both of you had rolled over on your sides, Frankie now spooning you with his arm draped over your middle and your ass pressed firmly against his crotch, quickly solving the mystery to the hardon straining at the fabric of his sweatpants. 
But if just your ass nestled against your dick wasn’t enough, Frankie looked over to see that you were definitely also dreaming, and the type of dream you were having wasn’t hard to decipher based on the way you were quietly moaning in your sleep and subtly grinding your hips into Frankie’s lap. 
“Mmmmmmm… Frankie…..” You quietly whimpered, your voice groggy with sleep as you stirred in Frankie’s arms, now finding himself almost unbearably hard at the sight that he’d awoken to, especially now knowing that the dream you were having was definitely about him. Frankie let out a deep, shaky exhale, now more awake than ever as you continued to gently squirmed your bottom half against him, biting down at his bottom lip as you moaned again. 
“Frankie… Oh fuck…..”  
“Fuck…” Frankie whispered, now raging an internal war in his head as he debated what to do next, knowing you were clearly turned on by whatever was happening in your slumber, his cock aching with each second that passed with you spooned against him. 
Should he just try to get up and jerk off before you woke up? Wake you up and then ask if you wanted to fuck? Or maybe… Maybe, he’d wake you up a different way. 
Although he hadn’t done it often, you had made it abundantly clear to Frankie that it had been more than okay to wake you up to sex, and every time he had, you’d absolutely loved it. Frankie had been hesitant at first, never wanting to do anything without your consent, or do anything that would ever make you feel even remotely uncomfortable, but after you had insisted and he had worked up the courage, he knew he had the green light from that point on- And given the state that you were in right now, Frankie was about to make good on your outstanding offer. 
Carefully shifting his body out from behind you, Frankie let you gently fall so your back was resting against the couch, caging his broad body over yours as he worked his way down to the waistband of your pants, gently sliding them off your hips before tugging at your underwear and leaving your bottom half bare for him. 
Frankie sat back on his knees, in shock and awe of the glistening, wet mess your pussy had already become in your sleep just dreaming of him, arousal coating your folds and inside of your thighs as you lazily shifted in your sleep, your legs seeming to instinctually fall open, just for him. 
“Fuck me, baby girl…” He whispered to himself under his breath, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he audibly gulped, his eyes going wide as he locked on to your cunt, already dripping and aching for him. Settling down to lay on his stomach, he carefully lifted up your legs to rest over his shoulders, wrapping his arms around your waist, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your hips while he settled himself face to face with your heat. 
With one long, flat press of his tongue, Frankie dragged himself across your clit, savoring the sweet tang of the juices that had been dripping from your hole, lapping them up with one more lengthy lick, before pulling his mouth away just enough to see how you’d react to the new presence between your legs. 
As if Frankie wasn’t already turned on enough, your reaction was clearly aiding his cause. 
After just one lick of his tongue through your folds, you were already incredibly responsive, your hips instinctively jerking towards his face as a breathy whine escaped from your lips, as if you were already begging for more without having to say a word. A slight smirk began to spread across Frankie’s face as he dove back in again, this time, working himself along your cunt in easy, languid strokes, feeling your body begin to twitch even more with the way he was working his mouth. 
“Mmmmmmm…. Yeah…..” You muttered, still sleeping as you kept bucking your bottom half against his face, only encouraging Frankie to give you more with his tongue, beginning to change his pattern to swirl deliberate, steady circles around your clit, putting more and more pressure into each movement. 
“Frankie….” 
“That’s it, sweet girl…” Frankie hummed, his words rumbling in his chest as his hot breath danced against your core, continuing to coax you out of your slumber, working through your folds and at your sensitive bud with intensifying pace. 
It wasn’t long until Frankie’s careful and meticulous work slowly began to turn more sloppy and desperate, feeling the wet mess you were becoming under his tongue driving him insane, wanting, no needing, to make you cum, to wake you up with pleasure flowing through your veins, turning your sleepy mumbles into cries of his name over and over again. 
Letting one arm untangle around your leg, he brought the hand to your pussy, gently slipping one finger into your aching core, sucking him in with your warm, wet walls, only giving it a few pumps before realizing you could easily take a second, slipping it in to meet the first and curling the pair to brush against the soft and spongy spot inside you he knew drove you absolutely mad. Almost instantly, he could feel your cunt beginning to clench in response, your tell tale sign that you were getting closer and closer to reaching your high and completely coming undone around him. 
“C’mon, querida, I’ve got you, baby.”
Suddenly, your eyes shot open, your heart racing as you felt a familiar feeling building in your belly, the coil inside you already wound so tightly as you let out a ragged moan, lifting your head up to see Frankie nestled between your legs, drinking you up like a man starved. 
“Oh fuck, Frankie, fuck- baby, fuck, don’t stop” You whimpered, shooting your hand down to burry it in the messy, dark curls of his hair, tugging at his locks for any sort of relief as you had awoken to the savory sensation shooting down your spine and through your core from Frankie’s lips latched around your clit and fingers pulsing in and out of your cunt. 
Frankie had barely any time to register that you were now awake, but as you grasped firmer at his hair and let out a ragged moan as you came, clenching around his fingers and gushing with your arousal, it had become very clear to Frankie that he had done his job, and done it well. 
“There’s my good girl. Damelo (Give it to me), Hermosa, fucking soak my face.” Frankie smirked, pulling away to reveal the shiny slick covering his beard, still gently rocking his fingers in the warm, wet walls of your heat as you came down from your high, you chest heaving in low, shallow breaths, mouth hanging open as you let a moan of pure ecstasy fall from your lips. 
“Frankie… Holy Fuck…” 
“Good morning.” Frankie mewled, pulling his fingers out of your pussy, making you hiss at the loss as he laid himself on top of you, swallowing your whimpers in an electric kiss, the tangy taste of you still lingering on his lips as his tongue swiped across your mouth, silently begging for more. “Must have been some good dreams you were having, querida. You were so fucking wet for me, baby. I couldn’t help myself.” 
“Frankie, please, I need you. Fuck- Fuck, I need you to fuck me, Frankie, please. Need you inside me.” 
“Needy girl. I’ve got you, Hermosa. Don’t worry. Woke up so fucking hard for you, baby. Didn’t stand a fucking chance with that pretty ass all pressed up against me. Fuck, you’re so perfect.” Frankie sighed, reaching down to shuffle his sweatpants and boxers down off his hips, revealing his painfully hard cock, his tip red and weeping with precum, aching to be buried inside you from the moment he had woken up. 
Wrapping his hand around his length, he stroked himself a few times before lining up with your entrance, the two of you letting out a heavy sigh of relief as Frankie pushed inside you, slowly filling you up inch by inch until his tip was kissing your cervix, taking a few moments to let you adjust to the sweet sting and stretch of his fullness. 
His forehead dropped to rest against yours, the shimmering sheen of his sweat making his dark curls stick to him and brush against your skin, his broad palm cupping your cheek as he let your lips lock onto yours again for another tender kiss as he slowly began to thrust in and out of you, taking his sweet time with each stroke. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet and tight, queirda.” Frankie grunted, gritting his teeth as his hips rutted into you, the weight of his body draped overtop of you sending your mind reeling, loving every second of being engulfed in his broadness. “What were you dreaming about, baby, hmm? What were you dreaming about that had you all worked up?” 
Suddenly, Frankie’s arm was wrapping under your legs, pressing your knees to your chest to stretch you open even further, the new position making you breathless as he began to pound into you with more intensity, the room now filling with a mix of your moans and skin slapping against each other. 
“I was dreaming- oh fuck- Fuck, I was dreaming about you, Frankie. Shit- dreaming about you fucking me like this, how good you make me feel.” You whined, Frankie’s grip in the soft flesh of your thighs growing tighter as you locked eyes with him, the dark, chocolate brown pooling with lust watching the wrecked mess you were quickly becoming as your cunt began to clench tighter, and the all too familiar tingle in your spine once again began to creep through your body. 
Your response elicited a low hum in Frankie’s chest, rutting his hips into you with more intensity as he felt your pussy starting to flutter around his cock, freeing one of his hands to snake between your legs, the pads of his fingers putting just the right amount of pressure on your clit to have you screaming out his name as you felt yourself creep closer and closer to your second orgasm. 
“Fuck me. That’s all I want baby, just wanna make you feel good. You gonna be a good girl and give me one more, Hermosa? Cum all over my cock before I fill you up?” 
Frankie could feel his own high slowly approaching now too, his thrusts becoming more sloppy and frantic as he pounded against your g-spot and circled your clit, determined to make sure you came again before he did. 
“Mmmmmhhhmmmm.” You whimpered, your brain barely even able to form a coherent thought, let alone a complete sentence, given how your eyes were practically rolling in the back of your head as Frankie’s punishing pace split you open in the best way possible, your legs beginning to tremble while you could feel the knot tightening in your core quickly building up to the point of snapping. “Oh fuck, fuck, Frankie, fuckfuckfuckfuck I’m so close, fuck, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh.” 
Before you could even finish your sentence, your orgasm crashed through you, euphoria flowing through your veins as you came, every inch of you filling with pleasure as your cunt clamped around Frankie’s length, soaking him in your arousal. Watching you cum was all Frankie needed to follow suit, gritting his teeth as a ragged groan rumbled deep in his chest, pumping a few more times into your heat before burying himself in your warm, wet walls, and milking himself of every last drop as he came, the mix of his spend and your slick leaking and coating the inside of your thighs
Letting his body collapse into yours, he draped himself on top of you, your chests rising and falling in sync with heavy, heaving breaths, the both of you trying your best to regain your composure before Frankie gently pulled himself out, making you hiss at the loss of his fullness as he flopped over next to you, planting a soft kiss on your lips as lay his arm across your stomach, pulling you into him. 
“Jesus Christ, Frankie… That’s one way to wake up from a nap.” You giggled softly, raising your eyebrows at him, softly biting down on your lip. 
“Was that okay?” Frankie asked, shifting his hand up to gently cup your face, stroking his thumb in lazy circles around your cheek, staring back at you with his sweet puppy dog gaze. “I know I’ve done it before but I just always wanna make sure you feel good and-” 
You caught the rest of his sentence in your mouth, swallowing his words in another long, and tender kiss, pulling away from his plush lips to peck a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose, giggling once again. 
“God, I love you. What did I ever do to deserve you, Fransisco Morales? Yes, baby it was more than okay. So okay that in fact,” You huffed, wrapping your arm around Frankie’s waist and letting your head fall to lay on his chest, “I think I need another nap.”
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romanarose · 10 months
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Frankie Morales is the kinda guy to twist you up like a pretzel and stuff you full of 9 inches until you’re sobbing then an hour later be like
“Why do you even like me 🥺”
513 notes · View notes
absurdthirst · 1 month
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The Cupid Shuffle {Frankie Morales x F!Reader x Pope x F!OC}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 5.9k
Warnings: Exhibitionism, voyeurism, bisexual women, mentions of past sexual relationships, little bit of putting on a show for the boys, women making out, mentions of fantasies, oral sex (male and female receiving), partner swapping, unprotected sex, cum eating
Comments: Inviting Pope and his girl over for a low-key Valentine's night movie turns in to something much more.
A/N: Valentine's Day foursome? More likely than you'd think!
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
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“Babe. I was talking to Santi and he’s cool with a movie night tonight. Him and his girl are going to go out tomorrow like us because tonight is always crazy busy. So it’s a quiet one in for Valentine’s Day.” Frankie says as he comes up to you to caress your waist, leaning in to kiss your neck. “You wanna go get some snacks? You know Santi will eat us out of everything if we don’t buy extra.” He jokes and you turn your head to kiss him, smiling against his lips. “What time are they coming over?” You ask and he murmurs, “seven.”
You grin, happy that this is happening. Santiago Garcia, or ‘Pope’ as Frankie calls him, is dating your friend from college. You had been the one to set them up, absolutely in love with your helicopter pilot boyfriend and Pope had always been a flirty, fun time when he was in town. After he’s moved back permanently, you had set them up and the rest is history. “Perfect. A low key night is just what we all need.” You promise, kissing him again 
and smirking. “And after, I’ll give you your present.”
Frankie smirks, loving how eager you are and he’s excited to get you in bed after the movie ends and Pope and his girl are gone. “Baby, you’re already my present.” He murmurs, nipping your ear as you lean back against him. “Let’s get everything set up and we need blankets for the movie.”
You decide to have groceries delivered instead of going out, allowing you and Frankie to clean up and get ready to have them over. It’s not necessary, but you set out some of the candles Frankie got you for Christmas and light them, enjoying the romantic glow with the soft blankets strewn around for couples to cuddle under. “This is better than battling the craziness of a restaurant and a movie theater.” You decide, smiling at Frankie. You know that he hates crowded places and is constantly on alert for threats, so it’s easy to accommodate him and do a romantic night in on the busiest day for most fine dining restaurants.
Frankie nods, “it looks great, babe. I prefer this than going out and battling the crowds. We got some movies saved on the tv so we have a few options. You gonna make that dip?” He asks, biting his lower lip with a pleading expression. You nod and he groans, his hands caressing your side, “fuck yes. I can’t wait for that.”
You laugh quietly, swearing that dip is what made Frankie fall for you. Eating your dip at a party to the point where he almost made himself sick. “I’ll go make it now, I’ve got everything I need.”
Frankie playfully smacks your ass and you gasp, making him chuckle. His life was so dark before he met you. You brighten his days, make him believe in a hopeful future. You saved him. He’d be lost without you. “I’ll go get the drinks ready.” He says, making his way to the garage to grab the ice bucket and drinks for the movie marathon you have planned. Pope and his girl will be arriving soon.
The other food arrives and you set the store bought wings out on a tray and pop the pizzas into the oven and dump a bag of cheddar popcorn into a bowl. Just as you are setting it and the dip out, the doorbell rings out. “Oh! They are here!” You squeal, excited to see them.
Frankie heads to the door before you, opening it to greet his best friend and your best friend. You’ve been on quite a few couple dates, enjoying each other’s company during game nights. It’s been a perfect combination so far. “Hermano. Todo día más feo.” Pope teases Frankie as he pats him on the back in a hug and Frankie affectionately rolls his eyes as your best friend steps around the men to greet you.
“Hey!!!!” You and Dara throw your arms around each other and squeeze tight. Always happy to see each other and it’s such a joy to see your friend so happy after having so many shit boyfriends before Pope. You had constantly moaned together that it seems like there weren’t any good men anymore, and now you are both with ones that are completely amazing. If Pope had been kind of a playboy before, he had focused all that flirtatious energy into making sure your friend was head over heels for him. “How are you? I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had time to call!” You apologize and look at her once you break apart. 
She grins at you, “I’ve been so busy with the new job and honestly, going to Pope’s nearly every night. I’m hoping he’s going to ask me to move in soon since I basically live with him by now anyway.” She says, squeezing your hands as she glances over at Pope who is telling Frankie about his latest client in his security business. “We need a brunch to catch up.” Dara giggles and you nod, “yes we do. You want a drink? I got that vodka that you like.” Dara nods and lets you drag her into the kitchen with a smile.
“It going okay with your girl?” Pope asks Frankie who nods, glancing back at the door you disappeared through.
“She’s everything.” He murmurs, a silly smile on his face that Pope understands.
“Sooooooo.” You grin as you pour the vodka and add juice to it for Dara before mixing up one of your own. “Tell me, how is basically living with Pope?” You ask. “You look happy, really happy. And I love that for you.”
Dara grins, her cheeks hurting from how much she’s been smiling, “honestly, he’s so good. In every way.” Her voice lowers slightly, “he flirts like crazy with me and only me. All that attention makes a girl crazy in love.” She confesses and you squeal quietly, the ice cubes in your drink shaking as you bounce a little.
“Love?” You ask and she nods in confirmation.
“Who would’ve thought? Both of us in love? Especially when we were lonely and horny and used to-” Dara is cut off as the boys come into the kitchen to grab their beers, “you ladies ready for an epic movie marathon?” Pope asks, leaning in to kiss Dara on the cheek.
“Let’s do it.” You wink at Frankie and he nods, walking back into the living room to get the movie up on the streaming service. Pope and Dara take a seat on the large sectional, snuggling into each other and Frankie holds his arm out for you to curl into his side.
You fold into his arms easily and pull the cover up over your laps. The snacks are out and you smile over at Dara and Pope as they curl together near you, Dara closest to you. “Let me know when you need another drink.” You murmur to Dara before the movie starts.
The movie is some superhero movie the boys wanted to watch. The next movie is your choice. The explosions are loud and Frankie glances over at Dara and Pope whose eyes are on the screen. His hand slides down from your shoulder until he’s squeezing your breast. Your eyes flick up to his face and he is smirking slightly, knowing you can’t make a noise otherwise the others will know. His hand slides a little lower, brushing past your stomach until he is sliding his hand under the hem of the dress you’re wearing. His fingers trail along your thigh, slow and teasing, and you spread your legs a little for him. Covered by the blanket, his fingers slide higher until they are pressing against your clit through your panties.
Your breath catches and you bite your lip so you don’t moan, not wanting Dara and Pope to know what Frankie is doing to you. You aren’t focusing on the movie, having no clue what is going on as your boyfriend starts to rub tight circles on your clit, teasing you as he touches you. Frankie loves to make you cum and you have no doubt that he will right now, regardless of the other people in the room.
Pope smirks as his hand sneaks under the blanket, teasing his girlfriend as he caresses her through her clothes. She offers him a warning look, knowing that they are in someone else’s home. All thoughts of propriety leave her mind when his finger finds her clit, rubbing through her panties under her shirt. She bites her lip and focuses on the screen, unaware that you are doing the same thing. Frankie can feel how tense you are, trying to control yourself and that urges him on, rubbing your clit a little faster and you put your leg up, acting like you’re getting comfortable when you’re really giving him more access to you.
Pope glances over at the two of you, noting the smug smirk on Frankie’s face and he grins. He knows that look, and with the way you are squirming, you’re doing exactly what he and Dara are doing. He leans in and presses his lips to his girlfriend’s neck. “Dirty girl. Just like your friend.” He whispers playfully, biting her ear.
Dara stiffens slightly until she looks over at you and Frankie, knowing that look on your face. "Looks like you had the same idea as us." She declares and you rip your eyes away from the screen to look at your friend just as she pulls the blanket away from her lap to expose Santi's fingers rubbing her clit under her underwear. 
"Jesus." Frankie hisses, his cock already hard against your side as you lean against him. You smirk and pull your blanket off too, watching as Santi continues to rub Dara's clit. 
"Damn, baby. What a sight." Santi coos and Frankie doesn't stop his movements. The four of you watch each other, the movie forgotten as you moan softly. 
"Wanna have some fun, like old times?" Dara asks, her eyes flicking between you and Frankie.
Frankie’s eyes widen, gaze darting between you and his mouth is hanging open. 
“Baby?” You turn to look at him and lean in to kiss the bare spot on his jaw where his whiskers never grow. “Do you want to see me fool around with Dara?” You ask him, turning to look at Pope with a questioning look. You think it would be sexy, but if your boyfriend or Santi isn’t okay with it, you wouldn’t touch her.
Frankie is a little dumbstruck and he nods, looking over at Santi who grins and says “fuck yeah.”
Frankie leans in to kiss you softly, “yes. I want - want whatever you are comfortable with.” He murmurs, pulling his hand from your underwear to give you the freedom to touch Dara how you want. 
Dara grins, “like those lonely nights back in college.” She teases, leaning in to cup your cheek after Santi pulls his hand away from her and she leans in to press her lips to yours.
You are familiar with her mouth, accepting the kiss eagerly and curling your hand around the back of her head and sliding your tongue into her mouth. There were plenty of nights that you had done this and more, because you were bored, lonely, curious and finally just enjoying yourself. You hear the way the boys groan beside you but you are enjoying the way you know they are staring at both of you.
Santi reaches down to squeeze his cock through his pants, not noticing Frankie do the same as the two men watch their girlfriends kiss. Every guy’s dream honestly. Frankie caresses your back, squeezing your ass as you slide your tongue against Dara’s until she pulls back with a grin. “I wanna - do you want to switch?” She asks breathlessly, glancing behind you to Frankie.
You know that Dara has always been interested in how Frankie is as a lover and despite him being your boyfriend, you aren’t jealous. This woman has been a lover on and off for years and you have no jealousy. “What do you think, baby?” You ask Frankie, reaching down and pulling her tits out of her shirt and sneezing them. “Do you want to touch Dara like this? Show her how good your tongue is, like I’ve bragged about since the first night we’ve fucked?”
Frankie is torn, wondering for a second if this is a test, but your eyes are dark with lust and he glances at Pope to make sure he’s on the same page. His best friend nods, “as long as I get to see what these blowjobs you rave about are like.” He teases and Frankie smirks, “just you wait, hermano.” 
Dara giggles, leaning in to kiss you again. “Any of us have an issue, we say it.” She says, setting the rules as she shuffles around you towards Frankie, reaching down to squeeze his cock through his pants. “You weren’t lying when you said how thick he is.” She says and Frankie blushes slightly.
“I would never lie about that.” You coo as you crawl towards Santiago. “My baby is packing, and he knows how to fuck a girl until her legs are jelly.” You bite your lip as you straddle your friend’s boyfriend. “Just like I’m curious to find out how Santiago fucks you so hard you pass out.” You caress his cheek and lean in, the movie forgotten in the background. “Can I kiss you, handsome?”
Santi nods, his hands immediately finding your waist and he groans when you grind down onto him, leaning in to meet your lips in a kiss. Frankie inhales sharply when Dara reaches down to undo his pants, reaching in to pull his hard cock out. 
“Fuck, she wasn’t lying. You are packing. And uncut like Santi. Love that.” She murmurs and grips him, leaning down to take him in her mouth as her eyes focus on his while he watches her.
You look over as Frankie’s head drops back to the couch cushion and he moans loudly. You love the sounds he makes when you are blowing him and now you get to see him from another view. “You want to have a little competition, Dara?” You coo. “See who can get the guy to the brink of cumming the fastest?”
She pulls off of Frankie’s cock, a smirk on her lips as she looks over at you. “You’re on, baby. Let’s blow their minds.” She grins and you peck Santi’s lips as you slide down his body until you are working his pants open. Dara pumps Frankie in her hand and his eyes watch you as you take Pope’s cock out. Jesus, he feels his cock twitch in Dara’s fingers as your eyes meet his.
“Fuck, you weren’t lying when you said he has a beautiful cock.” You hum, pulling the foreskin back and looking at the bead of precum that has built up at the tip. “I can’t wait to hear him moan.”
Santi watches you as you take the head of his cock into your mouth, “mierda.” He curses and looks over at Dara who has taken Frankie back into her mouth with a moan. The men’s eyes flick between their partner and the woman sucking their cock. Groaning as Santi caresses your head and Dara chokes as she tries to take Frankie deeper.
You know Dara knows how to give head so you put everything you’ve got into sucking Santiago’s cock. Wrapping your fingers around the base and pumping while you work him deeper, making sure that you make him wet and keep your palette soft.
“Fuckkkk.” Santi pants as you take him deeper and Jesus, your mouth feels so good. He hisses and Frankie nods, “damn good. So fucking good.” He pants as his hand comes up to grip the back of the sofa, trying to keep himself from thrusting up into Dara’s mouth.
You moan around Santiago’s cock, enjoying the way he throbs and pulses in your mouth when you swallow around him. Reaching down and gently cradling his balls when you let go of his shaft and completely engulf him in your mouth until your nose is pressed against the short hairs at the base of his cock.
“Holllly fuckin’ shitttt.” Pope hisses, his fingers curling in the edge of the sofa cushion and his toes curl as you take him deep. “Fuckkkk.” He exhales shakily, eyes rolling into the back of his head as you blow his mind.
Dara chuckles around Frankie’s cock, knowing how good you are, and she ups her game, bobbing her head a little faster so Frankie hisses at the pace. "Holy shit."
You have to let up, needing to watch Frankie’s eyes roll back in pleasure. You hum around Pope’s cock and reach for his hand, pulling it to the back of your head. Encouraging him to thrust up into your mouth or push your head down. Wanting him to completely lose control.
Pope groans, keeping you still as he thrusts up into you, his cock twitching as he pushes down your throat. Fuck, no wonder Frankie looks dazed whenever he comes back from his lunch break. “She’s good, hermano?” He asks and Pope nods, panting slightly.
You don’t know if Pope plans on cumming down your throat but you don’t let up. Bobbing your head and swallowing around him, keeping the suction tight around his cock as he throbs on your tongue.
He doesn’t want to cum down your throat. He lets out a strangled choke and grabs the back of your neck, dragging you off of his cock and he watches you stay connected to his length with a line of spit. “Holy fuck.” He gasps, trying to calm himself down and he looks over at Dara who is taking Frankie down her throat.
“One day, you need to cum down my throat.” You gasp as you try to catch your breath, grinning up at him before you look over where Dara is still sucking Frankie’s cock. “Fuck they look so sexy, don’t they?” You moan, sinking a hand between your thighs and inside your panties. “I don’t know which one is sexier right now. And I’ve fucked them both.”
Frankie pants, turned on by your statement. He knows your history with Dara, you’ve talked about your sex life and Frankie must admit that he’s jerked off thinking about you and Dara messing around. He hisses when Dara pulls off of his cock, knowing he won’t want to cum, and Pope moves fast to drag you up his body. “Whose cock do you want to sit on?” He asks you with a smirk.
“Weelllllll, I think I want to sit on your cock, baby.” You lean in and press your lips to Santi’s. “I want to hear Dara squeal Frankie’s name while I moan yours.” You are dripping at the idea and reach over to grab your friend’s face and pull her close for another kiss. “Do you want to lick your boyfriend’s cum out of my pussy, baby?” You ask her breathlessly.
She nods, a whimper escaping her lips and she grabs her shirt to pull it over her head. You follow suit with your dress, leaving you both in panties that are soon shoved onto the floor. You straddle Pope, caressing his chest through his t-shirt, feeling his heart thumping in his chest. “Goddamn. You’re gorgeous. Fish is a lucky fucker.” He compliments you, his hands finding your ass to squeeze your cheeks until he slaps them.
“You’re lucky too, hermano.” Frankie groans, stroking his hands up and down Dara’s back before cupping her tits. “Your girlfriend is fucking breathtaking. Too good for your ugly ass.” He jokes, leaning in and biting her shoulder.
Dara whimpers and reaches down to grip Frankie’s cock. You know she has an IUD and is clean. She knows you are the same. She trusts everyone here and she’s excited to have a good time. She’s dripping wet so notching Frankie at her entrance isn’t hard work. He slips into her as she sinks down onto him with a low moan.
Both you and Santi watch, eyes blown with lust as your boyfriend and his girlfriend start to fuck. “Fuck,” you pant as you look back at Pope. “I need you inside me.” You beg, reaching down and gripping his cock. “Will you fuck me, Pope?”
Santi nods, his hands sliding down your back until he’s squeezing your ass again. “Take what you want, bebita.” He orders and you shuffle closer, swiping his cock through your folds a couple of times before you start to sink down onto him.
Frankie groans as he watches you take his friend’s cock. The way your jaw drops and he twitches inside of Dara. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” She murmurs to him, her eyes watching her boyfriend and her best friend.
“Fucking amazing.” Frankie groans, unable to believe this is happening. “You are so tight, hermosa.” He praises, rocking his hips up and slapping her thigh gently. “Never thought I would get to do this.” He huffs, groaning again when she squeezes him hard enough to make him twitch.
You watch Frankie and Dara, clenching around Pope’s cock hard enough that he hisses. “You like watching them, baby? You like watching them fuck each other?” He coos into your ear, biting down on your earlobe. “You’re so fucking wet around me. Always wondered what you’d be like. Frankie said he’d give me a chance with you.”
You moan softly, wishing you had known about those conversations before now. “He has.” You hum, clenching down around him. “How do you like being inside your best friend’s girl?”
“Fucking love it.” Santi groans, smacking your ass with both hands. He hisses your name and rocks you a little faster on top of him. “You enjoying it?” He asks you, leaning in to nip your jaw.
“Yesssssss.” You whimper, closing your eyes and tangling your fingers into Santiago’s hair while you start to bounce on his cock. “Always wondered what it would be like to fuck you. Imagined you and Frankie both railing me. Now I want that and to see you both rail Dara.”
Santi groans at the same time as Frankie, imagining that dirty thought. They have shared women before during time stateside but he loves the idea of sharing you with his friend and his girlfriend more often, watching you all like his own private porno. “Goddamn.” Frankie hisses, cupping Dara’s tits and pinching her nipples to make her gasp.
You giggle quietly and look over at your boyfriend. “You like that idea, baby? Fucking me and Dara with Santi? Being complete sluts for the two of you? I know you would want to have Dara sit on your cock while I sit on your face.”
Frankie groans, cock twitching inside of Dara, “and Pope can fuck her ass.” He smirks, knowing his friend has a big thing for anal.
Dara chuckles, “double? Fuck yes.” She groans, “then I can play with that gorgeous pair of tits and kiss your girl. Keep her satisfied while you suck on her clit like I used to.” Dara smirks until her jaw drops when Frankie thrusts up into her.
“Fuuuuuuck.” Santiago hisses and his hands tighten on your hips. “You never told me that.” He huffs. “I’d have had you telling me all about it while I was making you scream.” He has had quite a few ideas of fucking you and Dara, but to know that you used to eat each other out? It’s sexy as fuck. “I’ll want to see that while I recover enough to fuck her.”
“We can show our boys how to eat pussy, can’t we baby?” Dara winks at you and moans when Frankie thrusts up into her again. “Oh do that again.” She begs, knowing he has found the right angle and Frankie obliges her, keeping her still while he fucks up into her like it’s the last thing he will do.
“He’s so good, isn’t he?” That’s not to say Santi isn’t a good lover and he steals your attention back to him with the next thrust. Making you moan and turn back to crush your lips to his while you start to ride him again in earnest.
Dara watches you kiss Santi and it sends her over the edge, she cries out against Frankie’s shoulder as he thrusts up into her with vigor, grunts escaping his lips as he jackhammers up into her until she is squealing. Shaking against your boyfriend as she cums, soaking him and her nails digging into his shoulders.
Santiago actually stops thrusting into you, although his cock is pulsing harshly, twitching inside you as he watches his girlfriend cum all over Frankie. “Jesus Christ.” He hisses, so turned on by the sight he almost cums himself. “Now it’s your turn.” He promises, kissing you passionately and starting to move when Dara collapses against Frankie’s chest.
Frankie stops thrusting once Dara is worked through her orgasm, wanting to watch you cum on Santi’s cock. He doesn’t want to cum too soon so he strokes Dara’s back as they both watch Santi start to thrust up into you. “That’s it, Bonita. Want you to cum for me.” Santi coos, his hands squeezing your ass to help rock you on top of him.
Your boyfriend encouraging to cum throws you over the edge. Tossing your head back, you cry out in pleasure. “Santi!” Your walls clamp down around his cock and you soak him as your body shakes.
He groans as you clamp down on him, squeezing him tight. 
“Holy shit, Fish. Like a goddamn vice.” Pope hisses and works you through it by rocking you on top of him. His cock is throbbing inside of you. “Wanna - don’t wanna cum yet.” He admits and Frankie nods. 
“Get on your hands and knees. Both of you.” Frankie orders, smacking Dara’s ass.
It takes a moment for you to move, but when you are on your hands and knees by Dara, you lean in and kiss your friend. “Fuck.” You giggle against her lips. “Isn’t this the fucking dream?” You ask breathlessly, looking over your shoulder at the two men and smirking. “They are both so fucking hot and want to fuck us.”
Dara smirks back, “a girl’s fucking dream, baby. Remember when we used to talk about something like this happening?” She asks and you nod, leaning in to kiss her again, sliding your tongue against yours. The two men groan, slowly jerking their cocks before they shuffle forward, notching themselves at the dripping wet cunts and pushing back in.
You don’t know exactly who is inside you for a moment while you are kissing Dara. Eyes closed and trying to guess because your cunt is already a little abused from the fucking. Until his hands grip your hips and he drills forward hard enough to make you gasp into your friend’s mouth. “Frankie!”
Your boyfriend chuckles as you gasp out his name and he slaps your ass. "Want you to cum for me, hermosa." He demands, knowing he can pull you apart easily. He hisses when you teasingly clench around him. 
"That's it baby." Pope groans when Dara grinds back onto him and he thrusts into her, making her moan into your mouth before she sucks on your tongue.
Dara nods, knowing it won't take much. She hisses as she rocks back onto Pope, his fingers rubbing her clit, but when you lean in to kiss her, your fingers pinching your nipple, she's sent over the edge. "Fuck!" She squeals into your mouth as she cums, clamping down on Santi's cock.
Both men groan at the sight of the two of you locked into a kiss when Dara cums. Santiago grips her hips tights to continue fucking her and Frankie moans as his own pace quickens. You know they are loving the sight and you swallow her sounds as she comes apart.
Frankie wants you to follow, his hand squeezing your tit as he rocks into you. “Fuck baby. Want you to cum for me.” He demands, pinching your nipple as Dara pants against your chin.
His cock is shredding against something wonderful inside you and you know you won't last long. You never do when he's hammering into you like it's the last thing he will do. Your body starting to stiffen with each thrust until you let out a loud cry, unable to stop yourself from tumbling over the edge and drawing out your pleasure.
“Fuckkkk.” Frankie groans when you squeeze his cock like a goddamn vice. “That’s it, hermosa. Jesús Christ.” He hisses, trying to hold off from filling you up. He pants your name and caresses your stomach, enjoying the way you soak him.
Dara groans and pushes back against Pope's cock. "Need you to cum, baby." She begs softly. "Both of you. Want to see cum dripping out of both of our cunts."
Pope grunts, jaw clenched as he pounds into your best friend, his nostrils flared as he seeks his orgasm.
Frankie groans, smacking your ass when you clench him, egging him on. “Fuck fuck fuck.” He hisses, pushing deep as he fills your walls with his hot seed in one of the most intense orgasms he’s ever had.
“Fraannnnnnnkie.” You whine his name, rolling your eyes back in pleasure as he paints your walls with his cum, hearing Pope hiss out Dara’s name beside you as he is the last one to cum, his hips stuttering and his entire body jerking in pleasure as he fills her. “Oh god.” You pant, collapsing down onto your cheek and look over your friend and her boyfriend as he slumps over her back and kisses along her spine. “That was amazing.” 
Frankie leans over you to kiss you, his tongue sliding against yours and you kiss him back as hungrily. Dara chuckles breathlessly, “now I wanna taste your cum from her pussy.” Dara smirks at you, “wanna sit on my face like we used to?” She asks, biting her lip.
“Fuck yes.” You moan, clenching around Frankie and the thought of her tongue against your cunt. Frankie is amazing at eating your pussy, but Dara was just as good, if not slightly better. “I want to taste Pope’s cum too.”
The two men shuffle from behind you, pulling out slowly, and move to sit on the other side of the sofa, eyes eager. Dara shifts to lay down and she smirks at you, tapping her cheek and you shift to straddle her face, stretching your body over hers so you can push her legs apart, finding her creamy cunt. Dara doesn’t hesitate to lean in, sliding her tongue through your folds with a groan.
It takes a good bit of tilting her hips, but your own tongue quickly follows suit while both men groan around you. Watching as you two sample their cum from their girlfriend’s cunt with an eagerness that borders on feral. You love the saltiness of Santiago mixed with the sweet tang of Dara, licking the mixture from her swollen folds and holding her legs apart when your tongue swipes over her sensitive clit. 
“Fuck me.” Frankie murmurs, watching you both writhe and lick and suck. It’s primal and his spent cock rests against his thigh but his stomach twists with arousal at the erotic display.
“Mierda.” Pope murmurs, watching just as intensely.
You love the fact that they are watching, but this is honestly for you and Dara. They have cum and it will be a little while before they can fuck again. You clench around nothing when you hear Frankie groan, and suck a little harder on your friend’s clit. 
Dara squeezes your ass, loving the way you rock back onto her tongue. Her hips tilted so you can lick deeper into her pussy. It’s intoxicating and everyone is feeling the intensity of this moment. “That’s it baby. Lick her clit. She likes that.” Frankie coaches you, seeing Dara’s reactions.
You hum, grinning into her folds as you obey Frankie. It’s no hardship, especially since that’s exactly what she likes. You suck her clit into your mouth and give it a series of kitten licks that makes her moan into your cunt.
Dara’s tongue gets faster, anxious to make you cum like you used to. She laps at you, sucking on your clit and swirling her tongue around it while the boys continue to watch with rapture. “Look so good, bebita. Wish I could take a a fucking photo.” Pope groans, watching with dark eyes.
She pulls her lips away from your clit for a moment, making you whine. “Do it.” She moans before she dives back into your cunt. You moan your own agreement and nod. You trust the boys not to share that, and you would love to see how sexy this looks from their perspective.
Pope scrambles to find his pants on the floor, getting his phone and he looks over at Frankie who nods enthusiastically. “Do it, hermano.” He insists and Pope smirks as he takes a photo of you and Dara. “So fucking hot.” He groans softly, taking a couple more.
You whimper when Dara sucks on your clit again, so close to cumming as you rock your hips back. Pushing down onto her tongue. Your hand slides up and you push two fingers inside her, knowing how much she loves to cum around something.
“Fuck.” She cries out against your folds, her lips slick with cum and your arousal, and the boys watch in awe as her thighs start to shake around your head. “Cum for her baby.” Santo orders, his cock twitching in interest.
It only takes another few moments of sucking on her clit and pumping your fingers into her cunt before she is crying out. Her walls clenching down around your fingers and soaking them with her cum.
The boys hiss, watching Dara cum, and Frankie leans forward on his elbows, planting them on his knees as he watches Dara ride her orgasm on your fingers. “Your turn, hermosa.” Frankie rasps and Dara nods, her tongue pushing back inside of you, her chin against your clit as she tries to push you over the edge.
You whine, eyes fluttering closed and your mouth drops open when she flicks her tongue inside you, sending you over the edge. Your entire body bucks and you squeal in pleasure as the waves of bliss crash over you, making you gasp out as you grind back onto her face.
The guys groan, their cocks half hard at the sight in front of them. Pope smirks, biting his lip as he watches you cum. “Beautiful. Fucking beautiful.” He coos to both women. 
“Goddamn.” Frankie murmurs, watching Dara work you through it before she shifts to pull her mouth back.
You sit up and shift off of her, smirking at Dara and pulling her in for one last kiss before looking at the boys. “Happy Valentine’s Day, boys.” You hum playfully, making Dara giggle as she clings to you and it might be the best Valentine’s Day that you’ve ever had. Definitely one to repeat.
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Text
The Fire Within Us
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Frankie Morales x fem!reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count- 5.4k
Warnings- smut (18+ ONLY!), sex pollen (Frankie gets pollened), drug mention (passive, mostly about moving it), mutual pining, friends to lovers, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, oral (m receiving), multiple positions, overstim, feelings, love confessions, praise kink, creampie, protective!Frankie
Notes- This is a collab with the wonderful and talanted @frying-panties​ who provided not only the idea, but the amazing beautiful art for this piece (below!💖) I had a blast writing this and I’m so happy with how this turned out! And check out their art for this too cause I’m obsessed with it!!! Enjoy!!
To stay up to date on when I post, also follow my update blog and turn on post notifs @flightlessangelwings-updates​
Art and fic under the cut for spice 🔥
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~
“Thank you, Catfish! Another delivery without a hitch,” the man, Robert, greeted Frankie right outside the helicopter. 
Frankie let out a huff, “Just doing my job,” he said dismissively. This wasn’t where he thought he would find himself, but with money being tight and jobs sparse, this was Frankie’s only option. He wasn’t happy about it, but it paid well and it gave him a chance to fly.
Robert inspected the packages in the cargo space of the helicopter as Frankie watched. He knew the routine: inspect the delivery, count it all and make sure it was all accounted for, then he got paid. Frankie never asked what exactly he shipped; he figured it was better not to know the details. But this particular batch looked different. It wasn’t cocaine, he knew all too well what that looked like, but he had no idea what it was. 
“All here, as usual,” Robert turned around with a smile on his face and one of the packages in his hand, “I expect nothing less from my best and most discreet flyer.” 
Frankie shrugged, “Just doing my job,” he repeated.
“Your payment, as promised,” he passed an envelope of cash to Frankie, who immediately pocketed it. Robert then flashed a grin that made Frankie’s skin crawl, “You know what this is?” he gestured to the package in his hand.
“You know I never ask,” Frankie replied, keeping his face stern and level. He did not have a good feeling about this and he kept his guard up.
“And I appreciate you for it,” he pulled out a pocket knife and sliced the package open, “And I think you deserve a little bonus,” Robert dug out a handful of what looked like a brightly colored powder, “Dude, you’re too tense! This’ll help you… let off some steam,” he smirked as he blew a small puff of the powder right in Frankie’s face.
“Hey, what the fuck!” Frankie exclaimed as he coughed and waved his hands across his face.
“Especially if you’ve got someone to help you out with the… side effects,” Robert added slyly as he watched Frankie try and brush the powder off his face.
That made Frankie stiffen. Your name immediately popped into his head, but he wasn’t about to let this man know who you were. He was determined to keep you safe and protected from this part of his life at all costs; Frankie couldn’t risk getting you involved in any way. He didn’t want you to ever be used against him if things ever went south; he couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.
“So there is someone,” Robert grinned as he noticed the change in Frankie’s demeanor. 
Frankie’s eyes narrowed.
“Have fun then, Fish,” the man sounded too happy as he turned and left Frankie alone with his thoughts.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself as he shook his head and made his way out, “What the fuck was that?” Frankie whispered as he got into his truck and ran his hands across his face and through his hair.
Suddenly, Frankie saw a large flash of white in his vision and then his skin felt like it was on fire. Sweat lined his brow and his pants quickly felt tighter as his cock stiffened out of nowhere. He let out a deep breath to try and calm himself before he blasted the air conditioning in his face to try and cool off.
“What the fuck was in that?” he repeated to himself as he wiped sweat off his forehead. 
Not wanting to sit there any longer, Frankie decided he was well enough to drive and took off. He figured he would just head home and ride out whatever was now pulsing through his system until he was ok again. He just had to make it home and everything would be ok.
“Just make it home…” he muttered to himself.
The drive felt like a blur as Frankie kept repeating the mantra of “home” to himself over and over again. Yet, as much as he forced himself to think of home, all he could think about was you. Your beautiful smile, your kind heart, the way your eyes lit up when you looked at him, your laugh… your hands, your lips, the curves of your body, the swell of your breasts, your perfect ass… Frankie shook his head as his thoughts quickly morphed into something else. 
He imagined what you could look like as he fucked you, or the look you would give him if you were on your knees with your lips around his cock. He wondered if your pussy tasted as sweet as he imagined it to be. Frankie imagined the sounds you’d make for him as he pounded into you over again over again, or how beautiful you’d look when you came on his cock…
Frankie’s desire for you flooded his system as the images in his head turned more and more lustful. Vaguely, he knew that it was something about that drug that was making him lose control like this, but there was nothing he could do to stop it now. And as he pulled his truck into park and turned it off, Frankie realized that he wasn’t at his place at all… he was at yours.
“When did I turn here?” he whispered to himself. But again, Frankie moved without realizing it and in a flash he was suddenly standing at your door. 
What was he expecting when he knocked at your door? What would Frankie even say to you? Hello, I was forced to take this drug and now all I want to do is fuck you senseless, oh yeah and I’m fucking in love with you. Yeah sure, that would go across real well. You were Frankie’s best friend, you’d been there for him through everything. You were always there when he got back from deployment, you were there when his fiance left him, you were the only one who really knew what he was doing when he made those private flights. Not even the guys knew about that…
Swallowing hard, Frankie knocked on your door. His mind raced and his breaths were deep and heavy as he waited for you, but every thought was forced out when he was face to face with you. He let out another deep exhale as he scanned your figure up and down. You were dressed down in just a tshirt and shorts, obviously not expecting company for the evening. But to Frankie, you were still stunning.
“Frankie!” you breathed in surprise, “What are you doing here? Is everything ok?”
A rush of heat pulsed through his body as you spoke and Frankie let out a heavy breath as he ran his hands through his hair, “I-I just…” he stuttered, unsure of what exactly to say.
Concern lined your features, “You look a little flushed, Frankie,” you reached out and cupped his face, “Shit you’re burning up! Come in, let me help you.” There was no hesitation in your face as you led him inside and closed and locked the door behind you.
Frankie’s eyes dropped to the floor as he tried to shift himself so that his erection wasn’t as obvious. He knew his face had to be hot and he felt the sweat on his scalp. And it only got worse as he watched you; the moment you turned your back to him to close your front door Frankie’s eyes went right to your ass. 
“Frankie…?”
Something about the tone of your voice snapped Frankie out of his trance and his eyes shot up to meet your gaze. He studied your face in silence for a moment, and when your lips parted to let out a shaky exhale, the dam broke.
Frankie groaned your name as he closed the gap between your bodies in an instant. His large hands cupped either side of your face and he looked deep into your eyes for a moment before he took your lips with his own in a heated kiss. You gasped as his movement caught you completely off guard, but your heart flipped in your chest as you instantly leaned into his kiss.
It had been your secret for years: you were desperately in love with Francisco Morales. Between his beautiful brown eyes, the sharp angle of his nose, his broad chest and his good, kind heart, you were a goner from the moment you met. You lost count of how many nights you laid in your bed alone and touched yourself with his name on your lips. How many times had you fingered yourself and imagined they were Frankie’s hands instead? You were too embarrassed to answer that honestly. 
A growl escaped Frankie’s chest as he guided your body across your living room until your back collided with the wall. You squealed softly as the breath got knocked out of your chest, but you clung to Frankie, putting all your trust in him. And the taste of him drove you wild…
The moment Frankie kissed you, it felt like a wave of emotions crashed into him. All the feelings he buried over the years bubbled to the surface as he devoured your lips with his. And the moment your back hit the wall, he pressed his body fully against you and leaned completely into you. A mix of his groan and your moan echoed between your bodies as he was sure you felt how rock hard he was.
Everything in the logical side of his brain screamed at him to stop. He knew this was too much to put on your shoulders, too much to ask of you. But Frankie couldn’t help it. Whatever was in the drug overpowered every other thought in his brain until he was completely consumed by you. And once he got a taste of you, Frankie knew he couldn’t stop himself. 
But he summoned every ounce of strength in his body and forced himself to break away from you. Heavy pants filled the room as you blinked your eyes open as the two of you stared at each other for several tense moments. Frankie’s arms trembled as he held himself back from ripping your clothes off and ravaging you right then and there. 
“Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath as he dropped his head.
“Frankie?” your tone was soft, yet he still heard the concern there, “What’s going on?” Not that you would complain; you had wanted him to kiss you for so long. But you knew Frankie better than anybody, and you knew when something was up with him.
“Shit I’m so sorry, querida,” Frankie’s voice was strained as he rested his forehead against yours, “I got something in my system from my run today,” he clenched his jaw, “And it’s making me want to fuck you senseless.”
You gasped but your voice turned more stern, “Frankie, you knew better than to try what you move.”
“I know!” he snapped back harsher than he meant to. When Frankie saw your eyes go wide, he relaxed his shoulders, “I’m sorry,” his voice was softer, “He kinda forced it on me…” his voice trailed off.
“Frankie?” you reached out for him.
“This was a mistake,” it took all of his willpower to push himself off of you and turn away, “I’m sorry…”
“Wait,” you didn’t let Frankie get far as you grabbed his shirt and spun him back around to face you, “Stay,” the second word was just a whisper, but you knew he heard you. 
Frankie looked at you with those big brown eyes that made you melt, and you saw the fire that burned behind them. But, you also saw something else… something more melancholy. Under your hand, you felt how tense he was, as if it physically pained him to hold himself back. Briefly, you dropped your gaze down and noticed the bulge in his pants. 
For a moment, your own emotions swirled around in your head; it must have meant something that you were the person Frankie thought of at that moment. That kiss was too passionate for it to only be the drug in his system. And when Frankie whispered your name so sweetly, your own dam of emotions broke.
“Fuck me,” your voice was hushed yet it held all the passions and emotions you felt, “Please Frankie…” you took a deep breath, “I… I’ve wanted this… Wanted you for so long…”
Your confession stunned Frankie to stillness for a moment that he almost forgot about his painfully hard cock. He stared deep into your eyes for a long moment and time felt like it froze for both of you as your words hung in the air. Even without him saying anything back, you could tell from the way he stared at you and the way he clung tightly to you that his feelings reflected your own. 
A low grumble emanated from deep in Frankie’s chest as he lunged forward and captured your lips in another heated and desperate kiss. You moaned into him but you gave in more easily now that you laid your heart out for him and he didn’t push you away. Frankie breathed your name against your lips as he dragged you back towards your bedroom. 
As he guided your bodies through your place, Frankie didn’t even need to look up or break away from you. He knew your place like the back of his hand, and he couldn’t even say how many nights he imagined almost this exact scenario: leading you down while devouring your lips and tugging at your clothes until you were bare for him. 
Frankie yanked your shirt off first before he ripped your shorts and panties down in one swift movement. You clawed just as desperately at him, ripping his shirt open and fumbling with the zipper of his jeans clumsily. Heat rose between your bodies as a trail of discarded clothing led the way to your bed.
Once you reached your bed, Frankie quickly pushed you down so that you landed on your back, and an inferno burned in his eyes as he watched your breasts bounce as you hit the mattress. You looked up at him with a glazed over expression and immediately parted your legs. Frankie’s eyes trailed down to your pussy, and even in the low light of your bedroom he saw how wet you were for him.
“Fuck baby…” he groaned as he covered you with his body and attacked your neck with bites and open mouthed kisses.
The warmth of Frankie’s body was inviting, even when he was fueled by some mysterious drug. He took your breath away from how beautiful he looked in the low light while he gazed down at you with a look of pure admiration on his face. And when he kissed you, it felt like you were in a dream. 
“Frankie…” a shiver ran down your spine when he nipped at a sensitive spot on your neck.
His hands cupped your breasts and you moaned when Frankie pinched your nipples. You were so soft underneath him, Frankie knew he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. So with one last kiss on your neck, he pushed himself up so that he lined his cock up with your entrance. 
“Querida…” Frankie groaned as he thrust into you, fully sheathing himself inside you in one motion.
You screamed in pleasure as you clawed at Frankie’s back. His cock stretched you out more than any of your toys, and since he was too filled with his own need from the drug, Frankie didn’t take his time with you like he would have wanted to. He mumbled a soft apology as the drug fueled him on and he snapped his hips against yours, desperate for release. 
Frankie growled as he drilled into you; his large hands gripped your hips tightly as the drug made him lose all control of himself. He pounded into you at a fast, harsh pace, and the way you moaned and screamed every time his cock was fully buried in you only spurred him on more. You dug your nails into his broad, strong back as your legs framed Frankie’s body. It was overwhelming but in all the best ways because it was Frankie… your Frankie. 
“Fuck,” he mumbled, “You feel so fucking good baby… So fucking beautiful…”
All you could do was moan in response as Frankie showered you with praise while he fucked you so roughly. It was a sign that Frankie was still in there under the drug that made him fuck you senseless. It felt so natural to you to let Frankie fuck you and surrender to him like this. You trusted him more than anyone… and you loved him more than anything in the world. 
In what felt like no time, Frankie felt the warmth build from deep within him and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Between the drug and how good your pussy felt around his cock, his climax quickly built up until it threatened to spill over and explode.
“Baby… I’m gonna…”
“Cum in me Frankie,” you whispered as you held him tightly.
“Fuuuuck,” he moaned as your request pushed him over the edge. Frankie came hard as he spilled himself into you, his hips still pounding against yours as wave after wave of his climax crashed into him. 
But, where Frankie hoped to find relief in his climax he only found more desire. As his hips slowed, he realized he was still hard inside you, and you gasped and looked up at him with wide eyes as you realized the same thing. Even after the strongest orgasm of his life, and finally getting to fuck you, Frankie still needed more. 
“Frankie…?”
“Shit,” he spat as he rocked against your body again.
You dropped your head against the mattress as Frankie started fucking you once more. Tears filled the corners of your eyes as you felt the soreness creep up, but you didn’t want him to stop. You wanted to be there for him, and you’d wanted this for so long you didn’t want to let it go. But you also felt overwhelmed with emotions as Frankie sped up his thrusts again.
He noticed when a single tear rolled down the side of your face, and Frankie immediately wiped it away, “I got you baby,” he whispered as he laid himself completely over you, covering your body with his own, “You’re doing so good, baby… Que hermosa… So good for me…” he mumbled more incoherent praises into your ear as his hips moved on their own.
These weren’t tears of sorrow or pain, but something else, something deeper. Emotions ran high between the two of you as you felt Frankie’s cock hit that sweet spot deep inside you over and over again. Your moans became louder and louder until your body trembled around him.
“Cum for me baby… Please…” he begged as he felt his second orgasm build up, “I need you to cum.”
“Fuck!” you cried out as your body trembled when climax suddenly hit you like a freight train.
And your climax triggered Frankie’s as both of you turned into a gushing pile of sweaty limbs. Together, the two of you rode out your highs on each other as you clung and clawed at each other. It was as if neither of you could get close enough to the other and the desperation boiled over.
You saw stars in your vision as the aftershocks of your powerful orgasm pulsed through your body. Your limbs shook as you tried to hold onto Frankie while he still pounded into you, clearly still desperate for more. 
“Shit,” you heard Frankie hiss, “Fuck…” Clearly he was frustrated when, even after cumming with you, he was still hard and the need still pulsed through his veins. Sobs of his own escaped his chest as he wrapped his arms around you as best he could, “Fuck… I’m so sorry baby,” Frankie’s voice quivered as he thrust into you again, “I’m so fucking sorry… Lo siento mi cielo…” 
“Frankie…” you had no idea what else to say, and any thoughts you did have were pushed out of your mind as Frankie pounded into you again. Your body was exhausted and sore, but you didn’t want him to stop if he still needed you, so you didn’t push him away. You let Frankie use your body for his release as his cock filled you over and over again until his third orgasm rocked you both to your cores. 
Frankie knew he had to be hurting you, and it killed him inside. But he couldn’t help it, once he started fucking you, he couldn’t stop. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as his own tears flowed from his eyes, “Fuck… Baby I’m so fucking sorry,” he apologized to you over and over again as his rock hard cock still stayed deep inside you.
Something about the sounds of his sobs and the way he said your name like it was a prayer snapped you out of your own mind. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him tightly, “It’s ok Frankie,” your voice was soothing and soft, “I’m ok… You’re not hurting me.” It was a lie and you both knew it. But, you had an idea, “Here, let’s try this.”
Gently, you pushed Frankie up so that he was propped on his hands. You took a moment to look into his tear-stained eyes and your heart skipped a beat. Even though his cock was still in you, there was something about looking into his eyes that made you weak. Your eyes fluttered shut as you closed the gap between your faces and placed a soft, sweet kiss on Frankie’s lips. He gasped against you, clearly surprised by your action, and you took the opportunity to flip your bodies.
It took all the strength you had, but you rolled both your bodies around so that Frankie was now on his back and you straddled his waist. Both of you let out soft moans as the new angle drove Frankie’s cock deeper into you. And you both felt the gush of your releases spill between your bodies. 
Frankie looked up at you with the same wide-eyed expression you had on your face before. His hands landed on your hips, but he didn’t grab you. He just rested them against your skin carefully as he studied every inch of your body. The way your breasts rose and fell with your heavy breaths, the way your lips were swollen from his harsh kisses, the fiery look in your eyes… it was all perfection to him. And when Frankie’s eyes trailed down your body, he let out a breathy moan when he saw where your bodies were still connected.
You let out a moan of your own when you felt his cock twitch inside you, and you felt a tingle of embarrassment under Frankie’s intense gaze. He looked up at you as if you hung the stars in the sky, as if you were a goddess, and it made your heart flutter in your chest. But, as much as you would be content to just stay like this, on top of him with his cock buried fully inside you, Frankie still needed your help.
Carefully, you lifted yourself off his body, his cock sliding out of you as you did. You whimpered as his seed dripped from you and you suddenly felt empty without him inside you. And Frankie let out a whine unlike anything you’d ever heard before. You quickly reached up and cupped the side of his face, much like he had done to you before.
“Shh,” you soothed him, “It’s ok Frankie,” you wiped a tear from his face, “I’ve got you,” you echoed his words to you from earlier, “Just trust me.”
Frankie breathed your name, “I trust you, baby.” The apology was on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t have the energy to voice it. You knew though. 
You shimmied your way down his body and settled between his legs. Your mouth watered as you finally got a better look at his cock, and fuck it was beautiful. Even after three orgasms, Frankie’s cock was hard as a rock and stood at full attention. Your eyes trailed up his figure and you watched as his chest rose and fell with deep breaths. If this wasn’t a desperate situation, you would have wanted to kiss every inch of him and take his nipple in your mouth and flick it with your tongue. You wanted to mark his body and show him just how much you truly loved him. But now was not the time.
So you wrapped your hand around his cock and pumped it a few times. Immediately, Frankie let out a loud moan as his head slammed down onto the mattress. And his moans only grew louder when you wrapped your lips around his length and swallowed him fully.
“Fuck! Baby!” he cried out as you bobbed your head up and down his length, “Fuck… Fuck!”
You hollowed out your cheeks and sucked him hard as you stroked the rest of him with your hand. Your tongue swirled around the sensitive tip and you hummed around him when you felt his cock twitch at your actions. Frankie grabbed hold of your scalp and held you tightly as you worked his cock with your mouth.
“Shit, shit, shit… Baby I’m gonna cum…”
You only sucked him off harder, determined to throw Frankie over the edge. And it only took a few more moments for him to explode in your mouth. You gagged at first but you didn’t let up and swallowed every drop of his cum that flowed into your mouth.
When you needed to take a breath, you broke away and wheezed as you filled your lungs with air. Frankie’s seed dripped from the corner of your mouth, but you didn’t care. You casually wiped it away as you watched him come down from his high. Frankie still looked flushed and his skin glistened with sweat, but he seemed calmer than before. As you looked down, you noticed he was still hard, but his cock didn’t seem like it throbbed the way it did before.
“Frankie?” you asked in a whisper, “Frankie, you ok, baby?” you crawled up and hovered over his body.
He didn’t even realize his eyes fluttered shut. Frankie wanted to watch you while you wrapped your lips around his cock and took him into your mouth over and over again. But you felt too good, and when you flicked your tongue against his length, he was done for. Frankie’s heart pounded in his chest, and it only got worse when he looked at your concerned face once more.
“I’m ok, baby,” his voice was raw and low, “I think I’ll be ok now,” he tried to push himself up, not wanting to put you out any more than he already did.
“Wait,” you placed your hands on his chest and kept him in place, “Stay,” you whispered, “I think one more will get this drug out completely.”
Frankie’s eyes went wide as he cupped your face, “Are you sure, baby?”
“Do you not want to?” your voice was barely audible as your own vulnerability showed.
“It’s not that…”
“Let me then,” you interrupted, not sure if you could handle what he was about to say.
You moved slowly, giving Frankie the opportunity to push you away if he wanted to. But as you hovered your pussy over the tip of his cock, Frankie held onto your hips and gently guided your body down. No words were needed in that moment as you sunk down onto him inch by inch. This time, however, it was less desperate, less rushed. You took your time as Frankie’s cock stretched you out once more.
Both of you moaned softly and once your hips met his, you collapsed down onto his chest. Frankie immediately wrapped his arms around you and held you close as you both moved slowly against the other. You both clung to each other and held the other close, but this time it was different. The need was still there, but it was a more heartfelt need instead of drug fueled. 
Slowly, you bounced on Frankie’s cock, letting the veins rub against your inner walls as you moved against him. Every drag of his cock drove you wild, and you felt the heat build up within you in no time. Underneath you, you felt the way his heart pounded in his chest and you were surprised when it matched your own.
“Fuck baby,” Frankie mumbled in your ear as he held you close. His hips bucked against yours as he matched your rhythm from below you, “You’re fucking amazing… You feel so good… So beautiful,” he rambled in a low tone, “Fuck… I love you baby. Te quiero… I fucking love you.”
Your climax hit without warning right after Frankie’s confession. You cried out as tears fell from your eyes as your entire body trembled in his arms. Frankie held you close as you rode out your orgasm on his cock until he too came again. He groaned your name as he tightened his grip on you, as if he was scared you’d disappear if he let you go. 
Once both your final highs were ridden out, both you and Frankie flopped onto your bed, exhausted. Heavy breaths filled the room as you laid on top of him. Frankie ran his hand across your back soothingly as he muttered soft words of affection in your ear. You couldn’t quite hear what he said as the sound of his pounding heart was even louder in your ear. His cock stayed inside you, but you felt it slowly start to soften, and you both knew it was over now.
“Thank you, baby,” Frankie murmured in your ear, “Thank you.”
A sob echoed in the room, and you weren’t sure if it was from you or Frankie.
“I love you too, Frankie,” your voice was hushed and you didn’t dare look him in the eye, “I’ve loved you for so fucking long.”
Frankie smiled against you as he kissed the side of your face. He carefully brought his hand to your head and gently turned you so that you faced him. You gasped when you looked into his deep, beautiful brown eyes and saw the adoration he held there. 
“If we didn’t just go at it for the last few hours, I’d show you just how much I love you. I’d eat your pussy until you ask me to stop,” the sincerity in Frankie’s voice made your heart skip a beat, “I’ve been in love with you for years,” he confessed more shyly.
“Frankie,” you breathed, “I’ve loved you for-fucking-ever,” you let out a soft laugh and paused for a moment, “Maybe that drug wasn’t all that bad then,” you added with jest.
Frankie laughed with you before he turned more serious, “Maybe not,” his brows furrowed, “But I promise baby, nothing like this will happen again. And I promise I’ll keep you safe from anything.” Frankie thought back to the way Robert sneered at him earlier after he realized there was someone special in Frankie’s life, and his words echoed in his head. 
You pushed yourself off of Frankie’s chest, his cock slowly sliding out of you as you did so, and settled yourself at his side. His arms wrapped around you and held you close without hesitation, “I trust you, Frankie,” you said as you rested your head on his chest and made yourself comfortable in his embrace. Nothing had ever made you feel safer than right now, in Frankie’s arms, and you found you never wanted to leave.
Thankfully, Frankie never wanted to let you go and soon enough both of you passed out in the other’s embrace, completely wiped out but still safe and protected. Just as you trusted Frankie, he trusted you with his heart, and he never felt more at home than when he was with you. 
You were right: perhaps some good did come out of that drug. Because now, Frankie could officially call you his. And he was yours. 
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fuckyeahdindjarin · 2 months
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Summer House
Coming sometime in 2024
Explicit 🔞 NO minors allowed
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Frankie Morales x F!Reader
Series tags: is it even going to be a series? Who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️ | childhood friends to enemies(ish) to lovers | virgin!Reader | college AU | infidelity | summer romance angst | probably will be a very open ending, you've been warned | no physical descriptions of Reader
I tried to fight it, I really did. I was convinced that I didn't have the time or the headspace to start a fic, and I still am not entirely convinced otherwise, but this idea just won't leave me alone.
It's literally been a year since I teased this fic (I've already written a soulmates AU of it before the fic was even written lmao), and it has pivoted, so it's not exactly the same idea as it was when I first conceived it. It's 'edgier' than my other fics, we're going full in messy with this one besties (inspired by none other than my love @imaswellkid).
I can't promise when this will be written, and I don't know what form it will take or how long it will be, but I've scribbled down dialogue and scenes and they're just playing and replaying behind my eyelids when I try to go to sleep. I'm itching to get it down on metaphorical paper.
For now, a roughly edited sneak peek:
You should know better. You know you shouldn’t. Not when it’s your first time, not when his girlfriend is asleep in his bed two floors above, not to mention the rest of the guys - what they would say, what they would do if they ever find out -
But it’s Frankie. Your Frankie. Not that it matters he’s not actually yours. Not when he’s staring down at you the way he is right now, teeth catching his full bottom lip, sleep-tousled curls brushing those eyes you’d know anywhere.
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