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atsvmi · 1 year

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Isagi’s Interlude

“I wish I wasn’t famous/ I wish I was still in school/ So that I could have you in my dorm room/ I would put it on you crazy” - Cece’s Interlude, Drake

✿ tags: minors dni, 18+ content, pro!Isagi, fem!reader (called good girl, wears a skirt, has cleavage, etc.), established relationship, mention of an age difference (reader is older than Isagi, both are in their 20s), consensual audio recording, role play (university students), switch!Isagi, switch!reader, oral (male receiving), humping, unprotected sex, mentions of virginity but neither is a virgin, purity kink, corruption kink (?), one mention of a spoiler, tbh i think this is pwp but idk

✿ wc: 3.5k

✿ a/n: the time has come that i officially am no longer catfishing as a writing blog🥳 please clap. also, this is my first time writing smut so please be kind<3

“Do you think we’d still date if we knew each other when we were in school?”

Your question is a random but welcomed conversation as you both work to reset your shared kitchen after dinner, you wash as he dries. In the seconds between the next clean dish, he pauses to consider his answer, before choosing to reach for low-hanging fruit.

“Do you mean high school? If so then...I hope not,” he finally answers. He can’t help but laugh as you fling the excess water and soap from your fingers onto him in indignation.

“No, I didn’t mean fucking high school. And quit making me seem like a fucking cradle robber, asshole.” You’ve been together long enough that the four-year age difference between the two of you is little more than a fun fact and a harmless joke at times. He can sense your annoyance is mostly for show but he chooses not to push any further.

“Ok, ok. I’m sorry,” he manages to get out between chuckles, fending himself from the assault of suds. Again he pauses to really think about what could’ve been. What would he have studied? Would he manage to get into a university with a good team? How would you manage to cross paths? He realizes it’s hard to consider anything when he doesn’t know much about your own school experience outside of the anecdotal stories you’ve told him.

“Tell me what you were like in school first.”

You resume washing the dishes, multitasking as you answer him.

“Um…pretty lame honestly. I wrote for the school’s newspaper. I wasn’t super active on campus but that made me get out there more than I would’ve on my own. But I did go to some parties.”

He lets your answer sink in.

“Yeah, I think we would’ve still got along. You don’t sound like you were much different from now so I don’t see why not.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see your lips turn slightly up, pleased with his answer. Cute.

“Do you ever think about your life if things turned out differently? Like if Blue Lock never happened?”

He can’t say he has. Blue Lock changed his life on its head completely, it’s hard to imagine things working out any differently. Tada and the others he went to school with were freshly graduated, at least according to their social media updates, so he supposes he would be too. Yet still, it’s hard to think about something so different than today.

“I dunno. I can’t really picture it. Actually, I don’t even want to. If I didn’t go to Blue Lock then who knows if I’d ever get the chance to play the soccer I want to. I’d probably never get to play professionally either.” He lets his train of thought wander, eventually realizing that without playing professionally, who knows if he’d ever cross paths with you. He buries the thought before it can even fully form and upset himself in the process.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” you conclude as you hand him the final dish. “I’m gonna get ready for bed. Can you just finish up here by sweeping?”

He nods in the affirmative, which you thank with a kiss that just misses his lips before leaving in the direction of the bedroom. Left with only his thoughts he can’t help but think a bit more about what could’ve been.

Obviously, he’d continue playing soccer as long as possible. Sure his high school team wasn’t amazing, but maybe through tryouts he’d end up at a decent enough school. And he’s always liked art class. Maybe he would’ve tried to pursue a fine arts degree? Or physical therapy to help athletes just in case soccer really didn’t pan out. But what then? For someone who’s built an entire soccer career around the ability to visualize a scenario, he really can’t help but to draw a blank.

Distracted by being in his own head, finishing around the kitchen takes longer than usual. When he finally manages to make his way to your shared room, he just manages to hear the sink’s water turn off, a sign that you’re at the tail end of your nightly routine.

He turns down the bed, first removing the many throw pillows you insist are necessary (a mild point of contention in his opinion. After all, what good is a pillow you’re not even allowed to lay on?) and then making himself comfortable using the “sleeping pillows” to prop himself up against the headboard, occupying himself by scrolling on the phone while he waits for you to make your way to bed. Despite it being the off-season he’s scheduled to meet with a trainer to maintain his conditioning so an early night is in order.

The click of the bathroom door opening draws his eyes but more importantly, what you’ve decided to wear to bed has his full attention.

“Baby, you look-” he starts before you cut him off.

“Is this still a good time for the interview?”

“Interview?”

He’s never been so confused in his life. And even worse, he can’t even dedicate half of his mind to start to comprehend what you’re playing at when he’s busy eyeing you from head to toe. The only thing on his mind is the oversized replica of his Bastard München jersey you’ve tied at your waist and the shortest skirt he’s ever seen. If he were to turn you around he’s sure that it’d cover absolutely nothing he’s sure a skirt is meant to. But even more captivating is the pair of thigh highs that indent into your skin the same way his fingers do when he-

“Yes? The post-game interview. I was hoping to get a quote for the paper from the player that scored the winning goal.”

“Uhh…” Is the most intelligent answer he can muster as he watches you climb onto the bed with a pad of paper and pen in hand. The size of the jersey only frames your cleavage as it gapes open thanks to gravity. Eventually, you make yourself comfortable, legs tucked under you and pen poised to take notes of his response.

“Is it ok if I record this,” you ask, sliding your phone on the nightstand, voice recorder rolling once he manages a stiff nod of his head. You continue. “So what were you thinking in that last play? It was pretty amazing if I say so myself.”

“Winning goal?” He should feel embarrassed by the way he can’t pull his eyes from your legs but the slither of skin between where your skirt ends and the socks begin is calling his name. It’s like he’s in high school again the way he can feel the blood rush from his head. Only your groan of annoyance gives him the strength to meet your eyes again.

“Babe, it’s called role play,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe in some ways, it is.

“Right. Role play.” A beat passes. “What exactly are the roles we’re playing?”

The look you give him makes his cock twitch in his pants.

“Obviously, you’re the star of our university’s soccer team and I am the reporter assigned to cover the season. You just scored the championship goal. Aaaand scene,” you drop your pen and paper to clap for extra effect and then grab both again, poised and ready for his answer.

Truthfully, he can hardly keep up with your antics but that’s never stopped him from trying. He’s had enough practice managing eccentric personalities from the cast of characters Blue Lock managed to put together so this is nothing but a cakewalk. The fact he’s in love with you only makes your idiosyncrasies endearing.

“Right.” He clears his throat, buying time. “I try to keep a cool head and focus on the field whenever I’m playing. A championship game doesn’t change that.”

You scratch something down on the notepad before continuing.

“And how do you feel now that you’ve won?”

“It’s a big achievement to win the championship for the school, and even more so to be the one to finish the game. I just hope to do even better next year.”

This time you jot away a bit longer, leaving his attention to wander back to your outfit. He reaches out a hand to appreciate the getup, running his hand up your knee to just under the hem of your skirt.

“Mr. Isagi you seem pretty distracted. Are you sure this is still a good time?”

“Call me Yoichi”. He doesn’t move his hand away when he answers.

Again you put down your props, seemingly for good as they rest next to your phone.

“I suppose this is probably too boring of a celebration for a star player like yourself. I should probably let you go back to the team for a proper congratulations. I’m sure you have quite the fan club waiting for you.”

“I doubt it. I’ve never been that popular.”

With that, you scoot closer, letting your legs fall open so that he can get the slightest glimpse between your legs if your skirt were to ride up even the slightest centimeter.

“That sounds doubtful. Who wouldn’t want a chance with Isagi Yoichi? Ace of the soccer team. Handsome and nice to boot.”

Despite complimenting his personality, your attention is focused on his physique, eyes roaming across his body appreciatively. He doesn’t fail to notice that you linger a second longer where the sheets have started to tent.

“Do you think it’d be ok if I properly congratulated you,” you ask, resting a hand on the sheet, ready to pull it away at a moment’s notice. You both have a healthy sex life, both well accustomed to initiating, but it’s rare for you to be so forward. He might pass out if you wait any longer to touch him.

“Congratulations? What did you have in mind?” Is all he can get out, forcing you to get straight to the point.

“Let me suck your cock. As a congratulations on a job well done.” Your hand cups his length through both the layers of the sheet, his joggers, and underwear, but he swears he could still cum with the slightest amount of friction he’s so wound up.

“Yeah. Yes. Please.” He’s near breathless, he wants you so badly.

Not a second is wasted before you have him bare from the waist down. He completes the look by pulling his shirt over his head, throwing the offending article wherever it chooses to land. All the while, you shimmy yourself down between his legs. Sure he’s the one fully naked but the eroticism of the sight before him already has him on the brink of cumming.

His name emblazoned between your shoulder blades is something he still has yet to learn to be normal about, but more than that, he finds that he was right about your skirt not covering an inch of your backside. However, what he wasn’t expecting was for it to perfectly frame the curve of your ass since you’ve apparently decided to forego underwear.

“Fuck me,” he gets out in only a puff of air.

“In due time, Mr. Yoichi,” is all you offer before kissing the mushroom tip, smearing the precum that’s collected on your lips, and then swallowing all that will comfortably fit in your mouth. It takes all the strength he can muster to not instinctively buck into you but he can’t hide the deep groan that comes out involuntarily as he meets the entrance of your throat.

“Fuck. You’re so good at this. Always so good,” he offers as he bundles your hair into his fist, slowly guiding you up and down his length. The praise leads you to moan around him, getting him even closer to the brink of cumming.

To get a better view he props himself up on one shaky arm, massaging all that he can reach, as you use your other hand to fondle his balls. Mere minutes pass before he starts to feel the familiar pit of pleasure begin to grow in his belly and it takes all his willpower to pull you off of him before he cums from the added stimulation. It’s next to a miracle that he manages to hold off even after he’s pulled you off once he sees the thick strings of saliva that still connect the two of you.

“I wasn’t done yet,” you have the audacity to pout.

“I didn’t want to cum yet,” he answers. Even to his own ears, he sounds debauched.

While still catching his breath he pulls you close, encouraging you to straddle him. You do and let out quiet moans as you rut your bare pussy against his length. Despite being so close to cumming before, he’s happy to let you do as you please. When your legs eventually tire, he switches to using both hands on your waist to manhandle you the way he knows you like.

“Tell me how you feel, sweetheart.” He can’t get enough of your sounds, no matter how small. To see how much of a mess you’re making he flips the front of your skirt, his tip coming in and out of view as he rocks you back and forth.

“So good, Yoichi. Your hands feel so good.”

He knows it’s not enough to get you off, that you need more. Eventually, he stops, pulling you down so that your chests meet. If you really want to role play, he figures he should get into the role he’s been assigned.

“Is there more to my award,” he asks, hands roaming under the jersey and under your skirt. There’s nowhere his hands don’t explore while he waits for your answer.

“W-what more do you want?”

He moves his right hand so that it’s between your bodies, spreading your pussy lips so that he can fully appreciate the wetness that’s accumulated. He uses his full palm to rub your clit while he answers.

“You said you’d fuck me in due time, yeah? Or were you all talk?”

“Um…about that.” Your eyes are fluttering, struggling to stay open and focus on his words. He feels like he’s on top of the world seeing how he can ruin you. “I have to t-tell you something.”

“I’m listening baby.” His voice is muffled as he leaves kisses across your neck and cheeks. Anywhere he can reach while you still use him to get off.

“I’ve never done this before.” Your eyes meet.

The proverbial record scratches and again he’s confused.

“What do you mean, you’ve never done this before?” Sure you both have busy schedules but there’s no way this is new to either of you. As a matter of fact, it couldn’t be more than a week since he had you in this exact position-

“I was a virgin when I got to college,” you whisper directly in his ear.

Again you have the upper hand as it feels like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice. The feeling only lasts a second though before it feels like every nerve lights up once he connects that this is still a part of the scene you’ve conjured. Oh.

The idea of you as a virgin has never crossed his mind once until this very moment. Given the age you were when you met, he had no reason to give it consideration. It’s not like he was even a virgin when you met. He makes a mental note to do some soul-searching later to find out why he’s rock hard and nearly brought back to the brink of cumming at the mere idea.

“Do…do you want to keep going?”

You laugh. A full out belly laugh.

“Yoichi, you're so cute. Only you would still be so considerate even in a fantasy.”

If all the blood in his body wasn’t occupied he’d probably blush at your teasing.

“I fucking love you,” you emphasize with a kiss. “Yes, I want to continue.”

Not another word is needed before he’s fully plunged back into the world you’ve created. No, he's never thought about you as a virgin but now that the seed has been planted he’s going to absolutely ruin you.

Within a breath, he’s switched your positions, now with you on your back and him pulling your legs onto his lap as he sits above you.

“Tell me if anything is too much, ok?” He preambles before he sucks both his ring and middle fingers, slowly pushing in one finger, then the other when he deems you ready.

Now that you’re fully on display for him he can’t help but stare. Again, the skirt hides absolutely nothing but he does push the jersey so that your tits are on display for him as well. Seeing you dressed but so exposed has his head swimming.

“You’re so pretty. Prettiest thing I’ve seen on campus.” If he’s going to play along, then he might as well go all out.

He bends at the waist to take in one tit, using his tongue to lick at and bite your nipple, before turning his attention to the other all the while he doesn’t stop pumping his fingers into you.

“Yoichi, please. I need you,” you whine.

He takes pity on you and moves from your chest and back up to your lips, kissing you deeply. God, he’s so in love with you.

“I’m sorry, baby. I just wanted to make sure you were good and ready. I want to make sure I don’t hurt you.”

“I promise I’m ready.”

“Ok, ok. I hear you. But can you do me a favor and clean my fingers for me?”

As soon as his request hits his ears your mouth falls open in a way that can only be described as obedient. He lets you suck at both his fingers until he removes them himself, the way your tongue slips between them turning him on all the more.

“So good for me. I really am a lucky guy, huh?” He watches you preen under his praise as he reaches next to your head for an extra pillow, lifting your hips to situate it underneath you.

“Ok, if you need me to stop just tell me, ok? For any reason.” You nod your head yes.

“Need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, Yoichi. I promise.”

“That’s my good girl.”

He locks his hand in yours before he finally presses into you, both of you moaning as he works his hips into you. It’s a fantasy, sure, but he’s as mindful as he can be to be slow and let you get accustomed to him, even if it’s far from your first times, or even 48 hours since he last fucked you.

He’s captivated by the way your mouth falls open as he fucks into you. It’s familiar but entrances him every time. When you give the go ahead he increases his pace, working at that spot he knows gets you there the fastest.

“More, need more,” and he knows exactly what you need, licking his thumb before rubbing against your clit in tight circles. It’s only through time and experience that he knows exactly how to work your body, confirmed by the way you babble his name as if it’s the only word you know.

“You’re taking me so well. Feel so good, so tight. Can feel you squeezing me. You gonna cum for me?”

“Yeah. Gonna cum for you. So fucking close.” You’re wrecked.

“I know, baby. Tell me what you need.”

“Kiss me.”

Your wish is his command, him meeting your waiting mouth. It’s barely a kiss as you can hardly meet his mouth between your moans but he swallows them all dutifully. It’s when your back arches and you fall near silent beside one final cry of his name does he know that you’re cumming. He pulls away to watch you fall apart.

“That’s my girl. So beautiful. Let it out for me.” The vice around his cock makes it difficult to fuck you through your orgasm but he powers through. Only once you relax does he rut into you a few more times before he loses himself, filling you as deeply as he can manage.

It’s silent once he collapses next to you, both catching your breath. When he catches his breath before you he departs with a peck to your lips before he leaves for the bathroom, returning with a damp rag.

“If that’s what I missed out on then I wouldn’t have minded going to school,” he breaks the reverie, cleaning between your legs before his cum has a chance to cool and become uncomfortable.

“Well, I’m glad everything worked out the way it did. Now I can have you all to myself,” you smile at him. He thinks his heart might burst.

“Yeah…that’s true too. Maybe everything worked out the way it did so that we could meet each other?”

“God, you're so sappy. Gross.” You both know you don’t mean it.

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” He once again bends at the waist to meet your lips. Gross or not he’s glad things aligned to this very moment.

You meet him halfway, sitting up on one arm to brush away his damp bangs. When you pull away you meet his gaze.

“I really, really do fucking love you, Yoichi”.

Yeah, he’s sure he’d meet you in every universe.

#isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi smut #isagi yoichi smut #blue lock x reader #bluelock x reader #blue lock smut #bluelock smut #i’m going to walk away from this site for 48 hours out of shame #(me lying)

549 notes · View notes

beefrobeefcal · 5 months

Note

I have a Thot to contribute for the Beefro Repentance Tiddie Fic, in case it is helpful or shall I say... titillating? 😂 (I'm sorry)

Since it didn't specify who gets milked, maybe we go back to late-stage pregnant Mouse? A little lactation play where Frankie drinks from her after dinner until he tops off his big full belly? (Big enough to rival her bump 🥵)

Or since it sounds like nonnie wants some male breast play too...add Frankie and Mouse playing with each other's delectable chests first?

Anyway just some ideas! I wasn't expecting your poll to turn out how it did, not gonna lie 😄 But hey, I'll enjoy wherever you take us with this!

You're a lifesaver, Reby!

fucking RIGHTS we need to expose Frankie's Breeding, Pregnancy & Lactation Kinks!

Smuttiest regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

--------<3---------

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Chubby!Frankie one shot

The Catfish & The Mouse: Mouse's Relief

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Pregnant Fem!Reader

Summary: Frankie helps Mouse find relief.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Word Count: 2,382

Content Warning: pregnancy talk, main character pregnant, lactation kink, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, 5-knuckle shuffle (male), lactation, breast feeding, breast milk, cumming in pants, weight talk, eating, sore breasts

Author's Notes: Thank you @rebel-held for the assistance you provided in your THOT. Thank you to @thehalflifeofloveisforever, @theywhowriteandknowthings & @neverwheremoonchild for their input, eyes and THOTs.

--------<3---------

It had been a day. You were now on maternity leave, supposedly to be giving yourself some down time before your baby arrived, but you’d been anything but relaxed today.

Your baby had been kicking the same rib over and over for the last three days, not allowing you to have any restful sleep; your big belly weighed heavily on you, making movements hard; and to top it all off, your milk had come in, making your breasts extremely sore and heavy.

Pregnancy was so uncomfortable.

Thankfully, it was a Friday and that meant you had Frankie all to yourself from the moment he got home to Monday morning at 6:00 am. He’s been so patient and caring with you, rubbing your feet and back, switching sides of the bed with you so you could be closer to the bathroom, and giving you your space when you needed to just be left alone because of the raging hormones in your body, then running back the moment you needed to be held.

Despite being so uncomfortable, you decided to do something special for him to dinner and make his favourite – lasagna.

****

Frankie arrived home, opening up the back door to the smell of his absolute favourite. He smiled and walked into the kitchen, seeing you leaning against the counter, your hands holding your phone and resting on your big belly, while you scrolled through whatever app you were hooked on today. He couldn’t help but notice how much more pronounced your chest was, and his cock twitched in his jeans. But before he could do anything, he knew he needed to test the waters first.

“Hey mama…”, he said softly with a smile, coming up beside you and splaying his hand over your middle. He pressed a kiss on your temple and moved his hand over your sore side. “How’s the rib?”

You sighed with a tired smile. “Sore… but okay. How was work?”

He didn’t want to talk about work. Not when that sigh heaved your swollen tits, making his cock twitch harder.

“Baby…”, he cooed as he kissed your neck, continuing to test whether you’d let him go further, and he reached up and gently palmed your tit.

You hissed in pain, and he jumped back. “What? What happened?”

“They hurt… so much… I’m sorry, Frankie. Please don’t touch my boobs.”

“What- why are they so sore, Mouse?”, he asked, sounding concerned with a slight hint of annoyance.

“Milk’s coming in, and they’re swollen and-“

“I can see that.”, he stated, his eyes glued to your ample cleavage.

“Frankie.” Your tone was indicative of your own irritation and a warning that your hormonal temper was rearing its head.

He looked up to your face and offered a sheepish grin.

“Okay… no touching the tiddies.”

You sighed again, not wanting your weekend to start with your mood. “It’s okay, baby. Dinner will be ready soon so you should have your shower. “

He nodded with a smile and kissed you quickly before heading to the bedroom.

As Frankie stood in the shower, he tried to ignore his semi hard-on but his mind kept slipping back to the sight of you, round and heavy, tits swollen and all because of him. He gripped his now fully hard cock and pumped himself, thinking about how good you feel and smell and look, and…

He came fast, his come hitting the shower wall then washing away under the spray of the shower. As he calmed down, he thought about how quickly he hit his release by his own hand when his mind was filled with you being pregnant. He grinned to himself as he finished his shower, making a mental note to take some more pictures of you like this for his personal spank bank, especially if you decided one kid was enough. He dried off and got dressed, heading back out into the kitchen with you.

*****

The lasagna was gone, and Frankie’s belly was the only evidence that it had ever existed. You couldn’t stomach it, so he had eaten your portion as well, so you had some fruit and soup instead.

“Fuck me, Mouse… we both look like we’re about to pop.”, he chuckled, trying to pull down his T-shirt, the same one that fit just fine a few weeks ago.

“Head to the couch, I’ll clean up.”, you said, standing up and wincing.

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely not, mama.”, he grunted as he stood up. “I’ll clean up later. You need to relax.”

After some coaxing, Frankie had convinced you to have a bath and he would be ready for you when you were done.

As you soaked, Frankie sat on the couch, full belly sitting heavily on his lap, and he searched online for how to help you with your sore breasts. He read about warm compresses and massaging, then his heart almost jumped into his throat and his cock came to standing attention at once when he read that he could express the milk by sucking it out. He groaned and palmed at his hard on through his sweatpants. Yup. He was going to be so helpful.

You got out of the bath, feeling more relaxed, minus your breasts, and got into your lounge clothes, then made your way out to the living room. You stopped in the doorway and watched as Frankie grunted looking at his phone with a feral intensity and his hand palming his crotch.

“Am I interrupting anything?” Your tone was teasing and the grin on your face told him to not stop on your account.

“I think I can help you… with your tiddy problem.”, he grunted, tossing his phone to the couch and standing up. He walked towards you, his eyes fixed on your chest, and he licked his lips.

“Frankie! I said they’re sore!”

“I know… and I wanna help.”, he groaned as he pulled you into his arms and kissed your neck. If it wasn’t for the fact you both had pronounced bellies, you know you’d feel his cock pressing into you.

His hand came up and slipped under your shirt and he gently caressed your breast through your flimsy bralette. Your breath hitches and he hushed you and kissed your neck again.

“Don’t think you understand what you do to me, looking like this, mama… your fucking body is just…”

He grunted as his cock tried to find friction when he bucked his hips, and he softly twisted your nipple. You gasped and let out a pained whine, but he held you firmly where you were.

“Lemma help, mama… please.”, he pleaded against your neck, breathing heavily. “Lemme make it better.”

You winced again at his hands, as gentle and wonderful as they felt, and seriously considered telling him off. But the desperation in his voice plus the warmth of his hand on your swollen breast gave you pause.

He stood up, nudging his nose against yours, his eyelids heavy and he whispered please again. You nodded and he led you to the couch.

Once you were seated, he went to the bathroom and grabbed a few towels, and put them beside you. He leaned down, holding himself above you with his hand on the back of the couch. He kissed you, and you could tell he was holding himself back as he did. He released your lips and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Fuck, Mouse, you look so good like this…”, he panted as he stood up. “I’m gonna help…”

He dropped to his knees between yours and pushed your shirt up over tour belly, kissing and mouthing his way up. You watched him with wide eyes, and it dawned on you what he was planning.

“Frankie? What are you gonna-“

“Gonna make it better, mama… gonna help you.”, he grunted again, pushing your shirt your breasts and pulling it over your head.

He sat back on his heels and looked you over with a ravenous ferocity in his eyes.

“Fuck... yes, mama... look so good...”, he groaned, his hands going to your swollen middle. “No idea what it does to me to see you stretching out your shirts because you're so full of my baby... tits looking amazing....”

He dove his face forward, kissing your belly again, moving up to mouth your nipple through the jersey knit fabric of your bralette. It felt amazing, but also completely confusing and overwhelming. The only time Frankie had expressed this much admiration for your swollen body was when he was drunk; he would get handsy and needy and would whine and beg you to ride him or let him fuck you in front of a mirror so he could see you. He was never this demanding and gropey and domineering. This was new and you were not mad at it.

“Frankie...”, you whined as you panted when he nipped just a bit too hard at your breast. “Please! They’re so sore... please be gentle!”

“I know... I know, mama... I’m gonna help.”, he cooed, sucking your nipple lightly through your bralette.

You sucked in your breath and your hand went to his head, gripping his hair, and you winced as he added pressure with his hand to your other breast, causing it to leak a bit. When he felt the warmth of your milk saturate your bralette, he sat back and stared. His pupils were so blown out, you could no longer differentiate where his irises were, and his eyes were fixed on your clothed, leaking breast.

“Frankie... are you gonna...?”, you asked quietly through heavy breathing.

His eyes didn’t move as he nodded slowly and licked his lips. His hands came up and pulled your bralette off, releasing your heavy breasts, and his mouth immediately grasped one of your nipples and sucked. You let out a breathy whine and once again gripped his hair, this time with both hands. The pinch and pull of him sucking to get your milk moving was almost too much until you felt a release. You sighed at the relief that washed over you and Frankie groaned as milk spurted into his mouth.

He swallowed mouthful after mouthful of milk, grunting as he suckled, despite his belly already being full from his big dinner. He didn’t care about the ever-tightening feeling in his middle; his mind had a singular focus and that was what he had in his mouth.

When he felt like he couldn’t get more from that breast, he released your nipple and licked it, looking up at you with dark eyes and panting. He moved over to your other breast, now leaking even more, and nudged it with his nose and his tongue darted out, licking up the escaped milk.

“Jesus... Mouse... you taste so fucking good...”, he grunted as he lapped up the warm liquid. His voice sounded deep and primal, like your weeping tits had unlocked some deep seeded need Frankie hadn’t tapped into yet.

You locked eyes with him again and he made a low growl as he pulled your nipple into his mouth and began sucking on it greedily.

You leaned forward a bit and one of your hands slid down, looking for his hard cock, but his belly was in the way. You knew he was full before, but now his belly would rival yours. It felt tight and as your fingers rubbed and prodded him, and you felt his body move as he rutted his hips.

“Poor baby... bet your dick is just aching... but you’re too big for me to get it... I can feel how full you are, Frankie baby... belly’s getting big... but you like this, don’t you... getting fat because you put a baby in me... that’s it... good boy...”, you cooed, stroking his hair.

A low moan emanated from Frankie and his grip on your thighs tightened and he panted through gulps. When he finally drained the second breast, he sat back, and you released his hair. He looked like he was in another realm of existence, with milk dripping down his chin and his eyes blown out. He was panting and fell back and laid on the floor, his extremely full belly prominently jutting out above him and groaned.

It took some work, but you got up off the couch, pulled on your sweater, and stood above Frankie, gently rocking back and forth, rubbing your belly.

“Baby... your belly’s bigger than mine right now.”, you smiled, nudging his lovehandle gently with your foot and noted the wet patch on the crotch of his sweatpants. You grinned, knowing exactly what that was.

He lifted his head and looked at his swollen middle and dropped it back down again. “Fuck, I’m full.”, he groaned and closed his eyes.

“I’d get on the floor and give you a belly rub, but...”, you grinned, motioning to your baby bump. “We both don’t need to be stuck on the down there.”

Frankie huffed a laugh, his eyes opening as he looked up at you. “How are your boobs?”

“Much better, thank you.”, you chuckle, as he struggles to lug himself upright.

Once he stands up, you can see his back arching to accommodate the weight in his belly. You reach forward and rub his tummy and smile.

“Kinda over did it, huh?”, you asked, giving him a pat and leaning towards him to press a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”, he murmured as smiled and splayed his hand on your belly, feeling your little one moving around.

“So, you came in your pants, huh?”, you said pointedly with an eyebrow raised.

He huffed a laugh, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and pulled you to his side. “Yeah... I came in my fucking pants.”

“Sucking on my tits was so good that you came in your pants? You kinky bastard...”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah... ”, he grinned, nudging you towards the bedroom and swatting at your backside.

You stopped and grinned, biting your lower lip, as you felt his belly press into your back, and he wrapped his arms around your middle.

“Watch your mouth... carrying my baby can only save you from so much, Mama.”, he growled into your ear as he guided you down the hallway and int your bedroom.

--------<3---------

@theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @toxicanonymity @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @blackfemalenerd @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal

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pedroscurls · 11 months

Text

Third Time’s A Charm (Part 3).

Character(s): Frankie “Catfish” Morales , Reader (female, second person POV) Summary: You and Frankie have a very serious conversation. Word Count: 1,962 Author's Note: This was a very personal chapter for me. Like I’ve mentioned before, Frankie reminds me a lot of my partner (who is a retired Marine), so writing this was special. I know in the movie we don’t really see the effects of being retired veterans trying to become civilians again (mainly only Tom and briefly Will in the beginning), but it’s something I plan on exploring more of, especially with Frankie. So, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It’s literally on the beginning of what I have in store. Warning: Mentions of combat-PTSD symptoms, drug use, and implied cheating.

“Do you love me?”

The question shocked you, but you looked up at him with sad eyes. He couldn’t be asking you this question, especially when you knew that he was aware of what your answer would be.

“You know the answer to that, Frankie.”

He sighed, pulling back for a moment. “So you do.”

“Just because we aren’t together anymore doesn’t mean that I’m gonna stop caring about you.”

“But why?” He asked, genuinely confused.

“Are you asking me why I still care about you?”

He nodded. His eyes were sad. Part of you wondered if there was another meaning behind this question and so you reached out to rest a hand on his chest. Frankie immediately leaned into you and let out a quiet sigh. You could feel the weight he was carrying on his shoulders, the pain that lingered. Frankie was hurting and you didn’t know why.

“Frankie,” you whispered. “What’s going on?”

Frankie looked up at you. He wanted to melt into you, wrap his arms around you and just tell you all of the things that were bothering him. His mind was all over the place and the cocaine… Well, it put the nightmares and negative thoughts at bay. Temporarily, but when he came down from his high, the emotions came at him full force. He knew better than to turn to drugs as a way to forget, a coping mechanism, but lately, it was just too much for him to handle.

“Nothin’. Let’s get you home.” So, he pulled away from you and walked around his truck to enter the driver’s side. You watched him carefully as he bit at his lower lip anxiously. You climbed in and shut the door behind you, reaching for your seat belt as your eyes remained on him.

He didn’t say anything else. He buckled his seat belt and pulled out of the parking lot of the bar, making his way back to your apartment.

The energy between the both of you had shifted. The tension had disappeared. The desire lingered, but the concern you were feeling and the anxiety Frankie was experiencing outweighed it all. So, when he finally pulled up to the curb of your apartment complex, you reached over to rest a hand on his forearm. You didn’t say anything, didn’t want to pry or push him to talk, but resting your hand over him and running your thumb in circles across his skin brought Frankie comfort.

“Thank you for the ride.” You whispered.

“I’m hurting, hermosa.” He admitted. His hand clenched into a fist and you felt the muscles at his forearm tighten underneath your fingertips. “I can’t sleep and when I do, the dreams I have… They’re not great.”

You sighed quietly, removing your seat belt and turning your body so that you were now facing him, giving him your full and undivided attention. “Frankie,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“And my lady,” he added, glancing over at you. “Victoria,” Frankie corrected. “We’re not doing so great. She’s angry at me all the time and honestly, I don’t blame her. My license got suspended, so I can’t fly and–”

You interrupted him. “Don’t tell me, Frankie…” You said quietly. You knew that when things got too rough, he turned to drugs or alcohol as a way to temporarily forget. To him, it was a temporary band-aid that wouldn’t stick, that wouldn’t stay on. It had been rough the second time you got back together because you had seen it firsthand, experienced how his addictions not only affected him, but those around him.

Frankie just nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing to me?” You asked sincerely. You continued to rub circles along his forearm, hoping that you were providing some comfort. “Is it coke?”

Frankie nodded, looking away ashamedly.

“Frankie,” you sighed.

“I’m two months sober, haven’t touched it since.” He added. “But it’s hard. I just feel– I just feel like I can’t get anything right.” Frankie looked over at you, tears stinging his eyes. Up close, you could see the pain written all over his features. It was an all too familiar look you had gotten used to seeing whenever Frankie had flashbacks or whenever a painful anniversary would be near.

“Is that why you asked if I still loved you?”

Frankie shrugged. “Maybe, but also because I’m genuinely curious.”

You rolled your eyes teasingly. “I don’t think I ever stopped loving you, Frankie. Our chance–,” you sighed. “We never did quite get the timing right, did we?”

Frankie shook his head. “I guess not.”

“Listen,” you said. “You’ve been down this road before and you came out on top. You can do it again. You can get through this again.”

“Yeah, but what if I can’t?”

“You will.”

Frankie looked at you, head tilting as he moved his hand to capture your own. He gently played with your fingers before he slowly laced them together. He felt relief wash over him, like the weight he had been carrying was slowly lifting from his shoulders.

“You really believe that?”

You nodded. “I believe in you, just like how I believe in the rest of the guys. Sometimes,” you said, looking down at your entwined hands. “Sometimes we get to a breaking point where we feel like we’ve hit rock bottom, but the important thing is to get back up and crawl your way out of it. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how difficult it may be, you get back up. Always, Frankie.”

Frankie bit his lower lip. “Maybe,” he said stubbornly.

“Stop,” you said. “If I have to pull you out of it myself, I will.”

Frankie smiled at that. It was something that his wife would never have the patience for. She had always told him to get over it, that this will pass, and it only frustrated him even more. Sure, neither you or his wife had been in the military, served overseas, seen the things he had seen, done the things he had to do, but there was one main difference between you and his wife, Victoria.

You showed empathy and even when things got too difficult, you led with your heart, with patience, and you stuck by his side even when it hurt you.

Victoria had started out that way, but as things got more serious and more intense and she got to see firsthand how Frankie dealt with his flashbacks or nightmares, her empathy started to lessen and lessen. She just couldn’t understand that these things don’t just go away. And maybe that was part of the reason why he started using again. Yes, he had Benny, Will, and Tom to talk to about these things, but when your home environment isn’t all that supportive, it just does more damage than it does good.

But Frankie couldn’t even blame Victoria. He knew that he was difficult, that being with him meant that his baggage would follow. Part of him just wished he had known this sooner before making a lifelong commitment to a woman who believed that his PTSD was just something that could go away.

And you… Frankie felt at home with you. A home he wanted to be in. A supportive, loving, and understanding home. He didn’t have to feel like his emotions were a burden on you, instead, he felt comfortable and willing to talk about what he was feeling. You provided a sense of security, a safe space for him (and even the rest of the guys) to open to you. Even when Frankie told you some very horrific stories, he was surprised to see tears in your eyes. And when he apologized and tried to comfort you, he was taken aback by your reaction.

“I’m not crying because of the other person, Frankie,” you said, staring at him. “I’m crying because you had to endure all of that.”

“It was my job,” he replied quietly.

“I know, but I can’t imagine the toll it takes on you.” Then, you reached out for him and wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace, afraid to let him go. “I promise that I’m always going to be here, no matter what.”

That was the first time Frankie cried in front of you. All the emotions that he had bottled in finally came bursting out. The feeling of your arms around him, your genuine reaction to his admittance of a certain job he had to do overseas… He didn’t realize he was holding his breath, afraid that it was going to scare you away, and when it didn’t? Frankie felt a huge weight being lifted off his shoulders.

“I promise that I’m not going anywhere, Frankie. I’m with you, always.”

“I love you,” he blurted out. Frankie sighed. “I know that I shouldn’t say it, especially since I’m married, but I– I don’t think I ever stopped loving you either.”

“Frankie,” you sighed. “We can’t. You know that.”

“I know,” he replied. “I’ve just been doing a lot of reflecting over the past couple of months and seeing you tonight just brought back a lot of emotions for me.” Frankie glanced over at you before his eyes dropped to look at your hands.

“We missed our chance, Frankie…” You whispered, slowly removing your hand from his. You wanted this as badly as he did, but you didn’t want to hurt his wife, to be the other woman who ended a marriage. “I’m always going to be here for you, but–”

Frankie sighed, interrupting, “Not in the way we both want. I get it.”

You looked at him, noticing how he wasn’t meeting your eyes. You could tell Frankie was deep in thought, so you reached out for him again, but this time, resting your hand gently on his chest.

“I’m here, Frankie. Not going anywhere, okay?”

He looked over at you, eyes soft and filled with regret, sadness, and pain. “Yeah, let me walk you to your door.”

Once you both left his truck, Frankie followed you to your apartment, watching as you grabbed your keys from inside of your bag. The silence that consumed the both of you was filled with tension, filled with the possibilities that this could be more.

“Good night, Frankie.”

He sighed and reached out to rest a hand on your hip, pulling you into a tight embrace. Frankie’s arms snaked around your waist and his eyes fell shut. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face against him. Having him hold you like this again, feeling his strong arms wrap around you, and his scent filling your senses… It was becoming increasingly difficult to remember that there would be consequences if you both just gave in.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Your heart skipped a beat and you tightened your arms around him even more. “I love you too.”

“I have a lot to think about,” he admitted.

Slowly, you pulled away and looked up at him. Your arms remained around his neck and his arms stayed around your waist. You were so close to him, so close that you could just inch yourself forward to press your lips against his, but you didn’t. You couldn’t.

“You have Colombia with the guys,” you replied. “That’s where your focus needs to be.”

Frankie nodded in agreement, leaning forward to gently press a soft kiss on your forehead. He let his lips rest there for a moment, tightening his arms around you even further to bring you flush against his body.

“You can call me if you need anything, okay?” You whispered, your eyes falling shut.

Frankie nodded and reluctantly pulled away, moving his hands back into the pocket of his pants. “Good night, hermosa.”

—-

Part 4.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed

#frankie morales #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #francisco morales fanfiction #francisco catfish morales fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fanfic #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x reader (you)#frankie morales x you #story: third time's a charm

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foxgloveprincess · 1 year

Text

Pairing: Andy Barber x Female Reader [Second Person Narrator]

Summary: He wants something from you—something you’ll never give.

Word Count: 1,600

Attic Wives Anonymous Masterlist

Warnings: Dark, Rape/Non Con (Forced Blowjob, brief Cunnilingus), Kidnapping, Basement Wife Trope, Delusion, Cursing, Threats, Fighting, Attempts at Maiming, Vomiting, Mild Grossness, Pet Names (honey, precious). Minors do not interact (18+).

A/N: Let’s meet Andy’s precious housewife that keeps giving him trouble, shall we? This ended up feeling kinda nasty/disgusting in bits, so beware. Hope you enjoy it. Let me know if I should continue it!

I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. However, I give no permission to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work on any third party website or app. Seeing my work posted anywhere beside my blog, my library blog, or my AO3 account (FoxglovePrincess) means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.

I don’t do tag lists, so follow @foxglovefics to sign up for notifications on my fics.

This is unBeta’d, so all mistakes are my own.

Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing, themes, dynamics, or warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Thank you!

This is not worth $873. None of it. You should have just walked away. Taken your loss and moved on. But the police came to you in their investigation. They told you you held the key to their case, that you could help bring justice to others like you. Duped by a pretty picture and sweet words.

You called it catfishing. They called it a romance scam. Either way, you were painted in an unflattering light. They made it so easy to save face. You only had to tell the truth, stand your ground on the cross examination.

And you’d won.

After the trial, you’d walked up to Mr. Logiudice and thanked him for his efforts in putting the man who’d stolen your money behind bars. Even let him hug you a little too long, the relief too overwhelming. If only you knew the door he’d opened up. The snake he’d let slip through the grass. You should have punched his fucking teeth in.

But the blame may also sit on your shoulders, at least a little. One night, just the one, walking around your neighborhood to try to start an active lifestyle. You’d gotten lost in your music for maybe a block, enjoying your favorite song. The blackness had descended all at once.

You’d woken up here. Four musty, dank walls. No windows. Hands shackled together. One foot tethered to the foot of the bed. Just enough of a lead to let you piss in a bucket in the corner. And it was so cold—it’s always so cold. The flimsiest scrap of worn linen the only protection from it in your possession. You say ‘your possession’, but you’ve come to learn you don’t have those anymore.

Footsteps descend the steps outside. Your teeth grit. Rage boils in your gut, the only thing left to you. Cause you sure as shit ain’t gonna submit to the bastard. He’ll never get what he wants from you. Never.

“Honey,” he calls from behind the door, all sweetness and sensitivity. Bile rises in your throat. At least you’re not deceived by it anymore. It won’t last. “You away from the door?” As if he actually cares about your well-being. “I’m coming in.”

A growl rolls in your throat. Your lips snarl, baring your teeth. The door clicks open and he smiles—the bane of your existence.

“There you are,” he coos, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. He approaches, arms open and sleeves rolled up. His dress shirt stretches across the expanse of his chest, almost appealing. The gods certainly blessed him with a mighty fine figure, but that heart rots black in his chest. “How’re you doing today, precious?”

His hand cups your face, rubbing his thumb against the swell of your cheek. Your head snaps to the side, teeth biting at his fingers. He clicks his tongue, quick to evade your attempt at mutilation. His lips purse and he tilts his head in examination of you.

“It’s okay,” he assures you with a pat to your head. “I know how stressful this is for you.” Though he grins, it sits strained on his face, not quite reaching his eyes. He sighs and sits heavily beside you. You rear back and kick out at him with your free foot. He hums, and attempts to soothe you like a spooked horse. “Now, none of that.” His thumb brushes your ankle. “I’ve got an important question for you.”

He dips forward, hand firm on your leg to keep it immobile and presses a kiss to your shin. His lips twitch toward a smile. Your eyes roll. With all the gravitas you’ve come to expect from this recurrent sham, he reaches for your hands and holds them close to his chest, not matter how your try to rip them away.

He takes a deep breath, meets your gaze, and asks, “Will you marry me, honey?”

And, just like every other time, you pause. Not to contemplate accepting—hell no. You take a moment to wonder at his utter audacity, his delusion to think you’d ever accept whatever bullshit at which he’s playing.

“Suck my dick,” you enunciate through gritted teeth, scowling and leaning threateningly forward.

The switch flips in his eyes. Immediate. He scowls and grips your hands too tight. “You shouldn’t talk like that.”

“What’re you gonna do?” you snark, unable to help yourself. You’ve trod this dangerous line before and know it’s only a matter of time. But he’s never done anything except storm out with a slam of the door. “Wash my mouth out with soap? Newsflash, asshole, there’s no running water down here.”

He stares, a moment too long. “I’ll just have to fill your mouth with something sweeter.” His hand lowers to his belt and he stands, looming over your figure.

Still, you won’t back down. “I’ll bite it off,” you threaten with a snarl.

“Then I’ll pry out every single one of your pretty teeth.” He holds your face, tilting your chin up. His fingers sink into your cheeks until you have no choice but to comply with the pressure of his grip and open your mouth. “Now, be good for me.”

You wrench your head from side to side, trying to break free from his hold. But fail. His free hand works at his button and fly, removing the obstruction of material until he grips himself in his hand. Your eyes flick up to meet his, feeling dread pool in your belly with your bile. It sinks and smothers some of the fight in you. He smirks, seeing you falter and takes the opportunity to guide his cock toward your face.

It taps against your cheek, smears his arousal over your skin before doing the same to the other side.

“Whoops,” he murmurs, without even a hint of sincerity. “Open wide.”

With his fingers still keeping the hinge of your jaw open, it’s not like you have any choice. He sinks in between your lips and toward the back of your throat. Panic sets in. You wriggle against him and try to free yourself, to no avail.

“Hey,” he barks with a pop to your cheek with his free hand, “cut that out.”

You blink away the daze from the slap and try to keep steady, keep breathing. Your hands curl together in your lap, gripping at each other in all your trepidation and anger and pain. To be so helpless at the mercy of his desire, you feel sick, feel it rising up your throat. But he pushes it back as his hips begin to rock and he takes his pleasure from your orifice.

He groans, deep and gravelly. His eyes close and his head tips back. Not even looking at you while using your mouth. How often he’s claimed to adore you when any hole would have satisfied his needs.

As he sinks further into his pursuits and your throat, his hands wander, cradling your head. He tilts you and holds you steady. Indulging in it while you suffer.

You blink away the treacherous tears and try to block out the musky smell of him infiltrating your nose. Trying to picture your life before, your home, your friends. All of them almost too far away to grasp when your jaw aches and he continues to plunder your mouth.

Despite your adamant detachment to the act, he doesn’t seem to mind. He contents himself in your ruin, spouting unintelligible praises and declarations. You ignore his bleating, trying to block every moment of the encounter from your mind. But his hips stutter and before you can prepare yourself, he groans once more and spills down your throat.

His chest rises and falls with heavy pants. He withdraws from you and you turn away, vomiting up his spend and your disgust of him across the floor. He clicks his tongue and rubs your shoulders, soothing you before turning you to face him. He wipes your mouth with a gentle finger and you’ve no energy to try to retaliate with your own spite.

“There now,” he says softly, “all better.”

His lips stretch toward his smarmy grin and he leans forward, taking advantage of your sorry state to slant his lips over yours. His tongue takes no time at all to invade, swiping into your mouth. Disregarding the sourness of the sick lingering on yours. You scream against his lips, bound hands pushing at his chest, but he remains locked to you. Kissing you to his fill.

When he finally withdraws, he presses his forehead to yours, even as you attempt to dislodge him. He pleads, “You don’t have to love me, you just have to marry me.” His eyes catch yours, blown with lust and dark. Something sinister lurking deep down. Talking like the devil, smooth words and slippery promises. “I can take you outta here. Make you so comfortable. Be so nice to you.”

You swallow and lean away, as far as he’ll let you. Mortified as his lips trail down your neck, across your belly, toward the apex of your thighs. You begin to wriggle again, but he won’t be deterred.

He pries apart your thighs and breathes deeply, nose pressing to the crest of your mons. Your legs lash out, trying to keep him away from you and your unwashed body. Threats and protests spill from your lips, stinging and sharp. But he remains deaf to them. Too focused on his destination. He sinks down and begins his torture with one sloppy, debasing lick of your sex and a guttural moan.

#andy barber x reader #andy barber fanfic #andy barber fanfiction #dark #dark fic #rape #tw rape #non con #tw non con #kidnapping #tw kidnapping #yandere vibes #basement wife trope #attic wives anonymous #18+#minors dni

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crazyk-imagine · 8 months

Text

Gym Crush

Pairing: Benny Miller x Gym crush!reader

Characters: Benny Miller, William "Ironhead" Miller, Francisco "Catfish" "Frankie" Morales, Santiago "Pope" Garcia, Gym Crush!reader, Samantha (reader's friend)

Warnings: Fluff, cursing (briefly), gym, gym things, reader is a trainer and trains with her friend, I'm sad, I know gym things because of work, Benny is like horny but also not, Frankie is a tired old man, Santi a big flirty hoe, I feel like Will feels like he has no personality :(

Word Count: 1,959

A/N: Not gonna lie, while writing this... I had a thought. This is the first part of the non-official series/ universe for the TF boys called (in my mind) "Gym World"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The boys, Will, Santiago, and Frankie have always known when something’s up with the baby of the bunch. It’s hard not to.

It consumes him until he barely has anything left to offer. That’s why they knew this was something different.

Instead of running to the woman (he deems to be the woman of his dreams) he, instead, runs from her. Or, in better words, avoids her entirely.

Ever since they came home after their last mission, they’ve been living their lives the way they want to… or at least Frankie and Santiago are.

Will is slowly working a little more on himself, not wanting to scare off anyone else in his life like he did with his ex-fiancée.

And now, Benny’s life mainly consists of working out, preparing for his fights while working at his annoying side job as a convenient store clerk.

Today was no different for him, train and then go out for a celebratory drink.

Usually with the way he acts when he sees you, none of the guys want to come with him anymore and it makes sense since he’ll either stare while you work out and he thinks you don’t notice (you do) or glance in your direction and check to see if you’re getting closer, wanting to try and ask you out (never happens).

Will shakes his head, “you’re shameless.”

Benny hangs from the pull bar, smirking at his brother. “Better to be shameless.”

“Then?” Frankie chimes, finding himself intrigued.

“Nothing, just better to be shameless.”

"He's back." You move your headphones over your ear to hear your friend, Samantha better. "What'd you say?"

She purses her lips, "you know exactly what I said."

You smirk, "no I don't."

She groans and throws her head back. "Why are you like this?"

"Like what?"

"Next is the rower."

Your cheeky attitude quickly falls from your face.

Samantha points at your fallen expression and starts laughing.

Benny hides his humor when he sees you stomping over towards the rower.

You pout, strapping your feet in, “I hate this!”

She smirks, “I know! But we’re gonna do,” Samantha pauses, thinking about how bad she should torture you. “Three reps for five minutes with wall sits as your forty second break.”

Your eyes widen at her words. “No.” You shake your head, “nuh uh. No way.” You start to remove the straps.

“I have four back-to-back clients in an hour, and I need to be able to crawl and not walk.”

He drops down from the bar, wiping himself dry with the towel he keeps nearby (curtesy of Will).

Frankie nods to the older Miller, “you go get him, I’ll deal with Benny.”

Will sighs and runs after Santiago who’s trying to flirt with some of the other girls around. They’re not going for it, and he doesn’t want to have to talk to another security guard because his friends an idiot.

The younger Miller takes a step forward only to be stopped. “Ben, your fights in three hours we need to go.”

“I-” he sighs, glancing back at you. “Yeah, alright. Let’s go.”

The next couple of days are quiet and you don't see much of “your” mystery guy, it makes you a little sad to be honest.

And then, there he is, as if he was reading your mind, he shows up with the other guys he’s almost always with.

"Guess who's back to cure you of your depression?"

You roll your eyes and shake your head, shoving Samantha away from you. “Stop it.”

She chuckles as you head out of the employee office, grabbing your phone on the way out. “I’m going to work out while I wait for my next client to arrive.”

She nods before heading out.

‘Maybe today’s the day.’ You can feel his eyes on you. You continue to think about what to do while stretching. You catch his gaze in the mirror and a decision’s been made.

Santiago smacks Frankie’s shoulder when he sees you coming closer. “What?”

The latter turns, “oh shit.”

“What’s going on with you two?” Will asks, glancing between the two of them, waiting for an answer.

Santiago points to the space in front of Benny.

He doesn’t see you there at first, focusing on finishing his last set before getting off the machine he was using. “Oh shi-”

You chuckle, crossing your arms. “Hey, there.”

“Hey.”

“I noticed you’ve been staring at me for a bit. You got something you want to say?”

If he were a cartoon, his eyes would be as wide as his head followed by a nosebleed. “It’s- it’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like?” You cross your arms. “I’m thinking you’re planning something hinky and quite frankly it worries me-”

His eyes widen even more. “No, no. I mean- I just- I didn’t mean to…” He pauses when he sees the way you try to hide your laughter. “Oh, you’re messing with me. Awesome.”

“Sorry, it was just too easy not to. But seriously, about the staring. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I- you’re really,” he gulps, “good.”

You raise a brow.

“I’m just saying, I don’t normally see people pushing themselves as hard as you do… or when your friend does.”

You chuckle, “that’s true. But it’s not really anything worth admiring, it’s your average trainer workout”

“Well, I can tell you that you do a damn good job. I’m impressed.”

“Well, consider me flattered. A handsome guy like yourself, commenting on my workouts, kind of makes a girl want to ask said guy for his number and make him her workout partner.”

He glances behind him before pointing at himself, earning a nod from you. “You’re serious?”

“I don’t joke about these kinds of things,” you pull yourself up on the pullup bar, something you’ve noticed he goes on more than anything here. “Which is something you’ll learn about, the more we talk.”

He’s never pulled his phone out of his pocket faster than he did right now. “You want to hand me your phone?”

“You’re gonna do this one handed?”

“No, I just wanted to try and impress you.” You jump down and smile at him.

He is more than willing to offer his phone to you. “I sent a text to my phone so now you have my number.”

“Great.”

“If I don’t hear from you before nine tonight, I can’t promise I’ll be as speedy with my responses.”

“So, I should text you now?” He jokes.

You shrug, “whatever you think is the smartest decision.”

The dopey smile on his face never leaves even after Santiago starts teasing him again. “Wow, I never thought you’d ever talk to her and look at you, you didn’t burst into a puddle of desperation.”

“Can I hit him?”

“No,” Will shakes his head, “you can’t, Ben. You know that.”

“She’s coming back.”

“What?” He whips around and almost bumps into you. “Hey, you’re back.”

“I am. I’m impatient and I want to go out with you.”

He owlishly blinks, trying to get his brain to move faster so he can understand. “Really?”

“Yeah. My friend would say I’m acting desperate and insane for asking the weird guy with a staring problem out.”

He scratches the back of his head, “you guys caught that, huh?”

You pinch your fingers together. “Little bit.”

“And you still want to go out with me?”

“Don’t read too much into it. Text me when you’re done here and when you’re free later.”

You turn around and walk away, leaving the Miller, Santiago, and Frankie speechless.

“I never thought I’d say this this,” Santiago pats the younger Miller’s shoulder. “Can you teach me how you- show me your ways, wise one.”

Benny shrugs him off, pushing him away from him. “Shut up.”

“Guess we’re done here?”

Frankie glances at Will. “What makes you say that?”

“He’s going home to shower and then call her so he can finally go out with her.”

Santiago shrugs, “I mean, I guess.”

“He’s right. If you two aren’t done, you’re on your own.” Benny throws his bag over his shoulder. “Come on, Will.”

You hit the call button, “Sammy!”

“What?”

“I did it.”

“I know you did; I was there.”

“I don’t know what outfit to pick you bitch.”

“How do you even know he’s going to call? Stupid question, I know. Moving on. Do you want to look slutty or a little conservative?”

“What makes me look better? Slutty or not slutty?”

“Where’s he taking you?”

“I don’t know.”

“How am I supposed to help you pick an outfit when you don’t even know where you’re going. I’m hanging up.”

“Wait- no.” You groan and are about to toss your phone down onto your bed when you get a text from Benny.

Hot Gym Guy

‘Wear something comfortable I don’t know if I already told you where I plan on taking you it's not gonna be some anything too crazy’ 4:36pm Sent Read

You smile holding your phone just a little closer to you.

Eye Candy

‘It’s like you knew what I was thinking’ 4:38pm Sent Read

‘Makes sense seeing as you’ve been watching me over the last few months every time you were in the gym’ 4:38pm Sent Read

He chuckles hoping this is going to be a good start to the date. He’s happy he kicked Santiago and Frankie out of the house now and thankfully Will had other plans.

Now he's debating calling you to invite you over or take you out to a restaurant followed by you coming over, not for anything that would be normal for his past self (as the other guys would say).

Hot Gym Guy

‘Would you rather do something fun and casual at my place or something new and different at a restaurant?’ 4:41pm Sent Read

You don’t think he has an ulterior motive because you know that he’s being genuine and asking you so you’re not uncomfortable.

Eye Candy

‘Are you a good cook because if not I think should go to a restaurant’ 4:43pm Sent Read

‘Not to offend you, I’d like to not have food poisoning tonight’ 4:44pm Sent Read

‘We should*’ 4:45pm Sent Read

Hot Gym Guy

‘I could whip up something decent and if it’s not up to your standards then we can either go out to a restaurant or have something delivered’ 4:46pm Sent Read

‘It’s up to you.’ 4:46pm Sent Read

You shake your head, even though Sammy really thought that he was creepy; turns out he’s really the sweetest guy you've ever talked to.

Eye Candy

‘Send me your address and I’ll tell you in person’ 4:51pm Sent Read

You knock on the door and wait.

The door opens less than a minute later. “Hey.”

You smile. “Hey.”

“Have you,” he clears his throat. “Have you made a decision?”

“I hope you're as good a cook as you are handsome.”

“Oh, baby. You have no idea.”

And let’s just say the next time you guys went to the gym (together, of course) everyone you knew was thanking all the gods that you two finally got together, until they realized that your guy's fawning was going to be ten million times worse because you’re together.

"Another day of him staring at her," Frankie comments, watching you two.

"How long are we going to see this?" Will asks, working on his bicep curls.

“I don't want to see him drool again; I'm going over towards the smoothie bar." Santiago walks away.

“I don’t know but I think we need to go back and grab Santi before he does something stupid,” the ex-pilot tells the older Miller.

“For fucks sake,” Will grumbles, putting the weights back in its place. “Let’s go.”

Taglist

@casa-boiardi

#triple frontier imagine #triple frontier imagines #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier #benny miller imagines #benny miller imagine #benny miller fic #benny miller x reader #benny miller fanfic #benny miller fanfiction #benny miller x you #benny miller x female reader #benny miller x fem reader #benny miller x fem!reader #crazyk-imagine

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millerscoffee · 8 months

Text

they don't love you like i love you

1.7k | frankie morales x f!reader

thank you @addictedtotlou for this prompt idea under “You want to do something for me? How about this?” X says. “Leave me the fuck alone and never come back” | and for your inspiration! i loved this idea so much. i hope it's to your liking ♡ i could've been with these two for a lot longer, but i had to wrap it up!! 😭

warning: angst, flirting, will they/won't they, benny will & pope are around!, house party, frankie's lowkey a fuckboy if you squint but look at those puppy eyes - we won't say nothin' 🤭

A/N: this is part of my 500 followers celebration running until 9/9 ♡

You’ve known the Miller family for a while. Your parents were close friends with Will and Benny’s and they felt so much more like brothers than children of your parents’ friends. You were friends with them as well. Supported them throughout their careers, were there for them in times of struggle and times of success.

So when Will asked you if the three of you could throw a party at your parent’s summer home, it was easy to say yes. Despite the impending dread that came with the fact Catfish and Pope were at the top of the list to be invited.

It’s not that you didn’t like them. You got along with almost all of Benny and Will’s friends. The last time you saw them, with Frankie specifically. You remember it, your mouth all filled with rum, Morales chasing your lips until you came to your senses. It was wrong, plus Will came out the very second your lips almost touched.

You were all friends, and you didn’t want to jeopardise anything. You didn’t kiss him that night, and that didn’t bode over well.

It wasn’t that Frankie was a jerk about it, it just… changed things. The awkward silence filled between the two of you for your own inability to let it happen. You thought about the ghosting of his lips, the warmth, just before you pulled away.

As visceral and heartbreaking as it was, you decided on a black party dress that cut at your thighs tonight.

Why? Even though deep down you knew the reason why, you couldn’t bring yourself to see it.

Benny lets out a whistle when he sees you and you laugh, shoving him lightly. “That’s gonna do it!” he drawls and you make a face in his direction.

“What on earth are you talkin’ about?!”

He nudges your hip on the way to grab a beer, “Keep pretending, that’s alright.”

And before you can get a response, you see Pope out of your periphery first. A wave of butterflies rise, and then like a ton of bricks, you see it: Frankie and a girl on his arm.

“Ho-ly shit,” Benny says beside you, handing you a cold beer before loosely wrapping his arm around your shoulders, “didn’t know ‘bout that one, champ.”

You feel the knot form in the back of your throat, and Pope catches you right away.

“Hey, hey,” he is hushed, pulling you in a hug and you’re consumed by the scent of his cologne, the height of him ushering the sight of Frankie and this girl laughing from you. “I’m sorry,” Pope’s voice is quiet, specifically for you, and it’s like you could drop the beer from the disconnect you feel. Why are you feeling this way, and why is everyone feeling bad for you? Making it so you’re okay without even asking if you were okay.

You pull out of Santiago’s hug politely and shrug it off, blinking any remnants of tears away – your makeup was too pretty for this. “Sorry for what? Do you want a beer?”

Switch: off. Just like that.

Still, it remained. You almost kissed Frankie. You flirted with him constantly. He had the audacity of inviting someone to your party in your family’s summer home.

You can’t even look at him. “Hey,” you say dryly, brushing past Frankie on the way to be a good host – to grab Pope a beer. Pope flashes Frankie an apologetic look at your coattails and brushes his hand to the top of your back when you both make it to the kitchen. Frankie, out from view in a different part of the house as Will and Benny greet him and the mystery woman, escorting them outside. A diversion.

You hear Pope say your name, and that’s when you turn around – tears tempting the brim.

“Why’d you follow me?” You sound so pitiful, Santi can’t help but wrap you up in a hug, and this time you allow it.

“Listen, I tried to talk him out of this, but he’s pretty beat up about you rejecting him. Wanted to take his mind off of you… yeah, don’t give me that look. I don’t know why he’s here either, then.”

You calm yourself down. Not that you were sobbing, but fuck, how could you not get emotional about this? It was becoming obvious, Benny’s crass words were ringing true. You were dressed up for Frankie, and you didn’t want him to be with anyone else.

Pope takes his beer, and cups your shoulder when he sees Will come into the kitchen. “I’ll leave you two alone. You need me, you tell me. Alright, cariño?” you nod, and watch him nod in Will’s direction, before it’s just the two of you.

You take a swig of the yeasty liquid and turn your back to the counter with a long, contemplative sigh.

“What the fuck do I do, Will?”

“You want my opinion? That’s a first,” he gruffs and you roll your eyes. But it does make you smile and brings you out of your headspace. He was good for that.

“For once. you‘re the one who told me I should be with Frankie in the first place. I feel so stupid.” you gesture at your dress. Of course, everyone looked pretty good, but you couldn’t help but feel out of place now. You wanted nothing more than to put on your sweatpants and forget about tonight. Kick everyone out. But you knew that just wasn’t an option. And besides, you wanted to have some fun yourself.

“You know what you should do?” Will asks rhetorically, “You should take Catfish aside and tell him how you feel. It’s the only way either of you will get through this bullshit.”

Crass was a Miller trait. But he was right.

After another moment, you nod – hoisting yourself from your back to stand tall, and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

You mustered courage to walk out to the firepit where everyone was, and you felt it again – the urge to cry, to run, the very second you saw the girl and Frankie smiling at each other and talking. It was like clockwork, like it was timed perfectly for your arrival.

“Catfish,” you say dryly. Not using his real name, but instead the name set aside for his friends. Since that’s how he felt you were, after all. He pulls away from her with knit brows and a pouty bottom lip, and you swallow hard. “Could I see you? Over there?” you tilt your head towards the house.

It’s not lost on you the way he hasn’t said a word to you since he got here, but he agrees. Tells the girl he’ll be back, and Will walks in on the scene – joining the other two boys whose mouths are borderline agape.

Frankie follows you, sliding the glass door behind him, and you both walk towards the couch for some privacy.

“Listen,” he finally speaks, and when you do it churns your stomach. The life that is brought to him rather than some entity in the room. You shift further away from him and shake your head.

“You listen. You want to do something for me?” your eyes fill with tears, tongue connecting to the inside of your cheek. “How about this?” Leave me the fuck alone, and never come back.”

It is childish. Counterintuitive to why you brought him in here, but you are hurt. You are upset. And he sees that, now.

This was a puzzle piece he couldn’t see before. You seemed so nonchalant about it all before this, unbothered about whether or not the two of you got together.

But Frankie won’t let this happen. Not after all the hell the two of you went through in preventing this inevitability to happen.

“Mierda, I’m a fucking idiot,” he starts and you swallow your words as soon as they come out. Fuck. Pope was right. Frankie seems genuinely upset by his actions that you don’t know how to recover right away. You can’t really tell him he’s not an idiot, because fuck – you feel that way. You feel like he should’ve talked to you.

But then again, what would you have said?

“Frankie, I–” you start, annoyed at yourself for unraveling for him almost instantly.

“No, don’t talk, okay? Please? I’m so sorry. The guys, they tried to tell me, I didn’t listen. I haven’t– I haven’t moved on. Or anything…,” and he trails off this time, and his eyes look so full and sad – it makes you want to forget.

“Frankie,” you don’t recognise the tears in your eyes until they’re spilling over your cheeks because fuck, it’s been emotional since he arrived. But he won’t let you finish your sentence, his lips are on yours – large hands on either side of your face and you reciprocate, fingers tying tightly into his shirt, crying and laughing into the kiss. A mixture of feelings rapture you both.

“We’ve been pretty fucking stupid, huh?” you sniffle when you both inevitably pull away, he thumbs under your eyes – musn’t dare mess up your makeup any further. Not on his watch.

“Only slightly, hermosa. I’ll make up for it.”

You tempt your hand closer to his. “We have the time.”

---

As other people start to pile in outside, you scan the backyard and Frankie wraps his arm around your shoulder. “I should probably apologise to her,” he says but his gaze doesn’t leave you, “brought her out here just to leave her? It’s kind of a dick move. I’m all fucked up.”

“Well, did you tell her you love her?”

Frankie snorts, wrapping your head closer to his chest, “No, I was saving that fo– you know what, never mind.”

Your cheeks flush, but that’s exactly when you get the sights of her and Benny – him with his hand against the wall outside, the obvious flirt. And she seems into it.

“I think she’s in good hands.”

Frankie shakes his head, “Motherfucker.” you both laugh before you squeeze his hip.

No longer waiting for new, it was right there at your fingertips.

And, wow, was it going to be so sweet.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic

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pimosworld · 9 months

Text

The story of us chapter 6

Pairing-Triple Frontier boys x f!reader

Summary- Set before you and the boys are officially together and how it all came to be.

CW-18+,MDNI, angst, fluff, comfort, illusions to sex,mentions of ptsd, slow burn, mutual pining, eventual poly relationship. No further warnings as to not spoil the story.

WK-5k

Chapter summary- Will gives you a hand and Santi wrestles with his angsty brain.

Notes- See Masterlist for full story notes. This is definitely Wills chapter but you can’t spell Santiago without a.n.g.s.t.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter VI- I can fix that

————————————

You never thought you’d say it was a relief to get back to work, being a trauma nurse meant most days weren’t easy going. Work was definitely easier than navigating the thoughts in your brain about your new relationship, relationships?

You had promised to call them but all of you were so busy you didn’t have a chance to. You managed to send a few texts, Frankie was busy with his first week back and Benny and Will were busy training for Benny's fight out of town this weekend.

You did manage to confess to Frankie about your sex dream, you couldn’t resist and you felt bad for leaving him high and dry the day he took you flying. You were sure It would make its way back to Benny. It was all but confirmed when he texted you later that week.

Benjamin: I guess I’m the man of your dreams 😜

I guess catfish truly has a big mouth

Benjamin:I assure you sweetheart he does

Sounds like you know from personal experience

Benjamin: Sounds like someone is jealous

Maybe you were a little jealous but you didn’t have time to think about that right now.

You hadn’t heard much from Santi since that night other than to call him if Mike tried to bother you. You hadn’t so much as heard a whisper of him. You don’t know what they said to him but you could imagine it was enough to keep him far away from you.

You knew that it got bad but you didn’t realize how bad until you told your coworkers you broke up with Mike and the collective cheers from the break room echoed through the hallways.

“Are you finally gonna make a move on one of those guys attached to your hip?” Your coworker Angela had no idea how ironic her question truly was.

It had only been three days and you somehow managed to accomplish that ten fold. Your body and your heart were telling you to go for it but your brain was still on the fence. Society was so unforgiving to anything different. But when did society ever grant anyone any favors?

****

Golden Girls

How are things at the commune?

The kid 🥊: Never better

🐈🐠:Amazing

Will: We’re good here haven’t heard from you though?

I’m fine So things haven’t come to blows yet?

The kid 🥊: Maybe for Fish

🐈🐠: Shut up Ben

I see Will is the only voice of reason

The kid 🥊: He’s going to patch her holes tomorrow 😜

Will: You’re disgusting

🐈🐠: jajajajajajaja

I had faith in you Will

The kid 🥊: You’re the holy man among us

Will: That asshole put a hole in her wall I’m just going to fix it.

🐈🐠: Don’t explain yourself to this pendejo who can’t return any calls.

Sorry been busy let’s get drinks after you fix her wall we need to celebrate fish getting his license

The kid 🥊: Finally you’re making sense

See you fools on Friday

The kid 🥊: Fools in love

Will:🙄

*****

After a busy but short work week you found yourself nervously cleaning your house in preparation for Will to come over. You spent most of the morning and afternoon trying not to overthink things. He was always handy around your house, helping out wherever he could.

You knew he liked to do these things to keep himself busy, it’s why his house was so meticulously maintained. It was the only way to calm his racing thoughts.

Your Will, the man who always needed to be in control. Some part of you knew he needed that to keep himself from losing grip again.

His life slowly fell apart before Colombia when his fiancé Amanda abruptly left. You always asked what happened and he always told you it wasn’t meant to be. You tried getting to know her but it seemed she never wanted to reciprocate.

Even more questions were stirred when she stormed out of the annual 4th of July barbecue screaming about not being able to compete with her. The guys all exchanged knowing glances when he returned to the backyard looking like he saw a ghost.

You didn’t have time to unpack what that meant when days later Santi came to you all with a proposal that would change all of your lives. Change your lives.

A knock at the door brings you back to the present moment as you make your way to the front door to let Will in. He’s standing there in a white v neck and paint stained jeans slung low on his waist. You don’t realize you’re gaping at him until he clears his throat.

“I promise I have a change of clothes.” He awkwardly scrubs the back of his neck revealing the toned curve of his arms.

“Oh…it’s not that, you look great. I mean you like fine…” Okay you were officially losing it as you feel the heat creeping up your neck. You don’t miss the smirk as you step aside to let him in.

He sets down his backpack on your loveseat and brings you into a hug as he kisses the top of your head. You linger in it longer than necessary as you take in his scent, his musky cologne mixed with a hint of sweat. You can feel the way his back flexes under your touch as your hand instinctively slides up between his shoulder blades.

“I missed you.” It slips out before he can second guess himself. You don’t think he’s referring to the 3 days since he’s seen you last. There’s a deeper meaning behind it. It’s the first time you’ve been alone with him in months.

“I missed you too.” You look up at him, willing your eyes to say everything your mouth can’t. He can sense it and reluctantly pulls away. The struggle is piercing through his blue eyes, grappling with the inner workings of his mind that says he can’t lose control again.

As he turns to walk towards your garage knowing full well that whatever he needs is there because he brought it at some point and left it to do various repairs and updates to your home. It was so domestic that it takes your breath away.

It takes you a moment to gain your bearings as you head to the kitchen to get some water to try and quench your thirst. You pour him a glass for good measure assuming he’s having the same predicament as you.

He returns from the garage tool belt on and bucket in hand as he sets everything down by your front door next to the dreaded reminder in the wall that was your awful ex. He picks at the drywall with his fingers as he stares at it like it personally offended him.

You slowly approach with the glass of water and he turns to look at you, he couldn’t school his expression in time for you not to see the regret burned through his pupils. You know he’s found someway to blame himself for not being here or for not noticing the signs. He happily accepts the glass from you as he tries and fails to smile, his lips pulled into a grim line.

“You read my mind sweetheart.” He tips his head back and you can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs with each drink. Suddenly you’re feeling parched again.

“I can in fact read your mind and I need you to stop beating yourself up.”

“Is it that obvious?” He sets the glass down on the side table as he resumes his stare off with the hole.

“Well I know you like the back of my hand and yes…it’s that obvious.” You place your hand on his arm gently, still giving him space but steadily grounding him.

“It’s not your fault, we all were in a bad place.”

He can’t help but think how much it was his fault. If he had told you a long time ago how he felt about you none of this would’ve happened. Amanda was right. She can’t compete with you. If he had told you before going off on that suicide mission to Colombia maybe you would’ve come back different. Here you are still looking out for him despite it all.

“Hey…what’s going on behind those eyes again?” Everything.

“Nothin’ sweetheart…just thinking how lucky I am to have you and how we’ll never get out of here if I don’t get to work.” The pet names they all call you have perpetually driven you to insanity and yet you’d be lost without them.

You plop down in the loveseat with your legs draped over the side facing the back of it, watching him work was better than anything on your tv and it would give you a chance to catch up.

He gets down on one knee to get a closer look at the hole perfectly level with the door handle. If you weren’t watching you would’ve missed the precise square he makes with his knife around it to clean the edges.

You watch as his deft hands make steady work of the sandpaper. So precise and sure of his movements. You wonder what it would feel like to have his hands all over you, his hand behind your neck while the other grasps your waist pulling him into you.

“Honey?” Was he saying something?

“Yes.” His back is to you but you can see him laughing at your expense.

“I asked you how work’s been.”

“Oh it’s been great actually.” He stops what he’s doing to look at you with a quizzical expression on his face.

“Oh the trauma unit has been great?”

“Well, yes and no. It’s been great being able to focus on doing my job again.” You always took pride in your work and lately that’s been slacking. You can’t properly take care of patients and have a tumultuous home life.

“I still think you could use a vacation.” He’s resumed his almost complete work and you aren’t sure if he’s very quick with his hands or perhaps you were daydreaming about them for longer than you thought.

“We all could use a vacation, just don’t let Santi plan this one.” You let that last part slip and instantly regretted it until Wills booming laughter filled the small living room.

“I trust your planning skills honey so just let me know when and where and I’ll be there.” There’s a seriousness to his tone that you don’t miss. You certainly all could use a break.

“I’m pretty much done, we just need to let this dry overnight. The paint in your garage is too old so I’ll pick some up this week and finish it.” He stands from the ground dusting the drywall off his jeans.

“Will I can paint…” He cuts you off as he stands over you on the loveseat with his hands on his hips. The look in his eyes is daring you to challenge him again.

“I don’t do anything halfway.” There it is again, that double meaning that you can’t possibly miss. You know deep down you’re not reading into this the wrong way.

Unlike Ben, the man of many words. Will communicated so well non verbally, he was a man of action. So much can go unspoken between the two of you and yet things still felt normal.

“Why don’t we head to the bar early before those knuckleheads get there.” That sounded perfect and you didn’t want your one on one time to end just yet.

“Why don’t you get cleaned up while I sweep this stuff.” Gesturing to the drywall on the floor, he moves to clean but you hop over the loveseat before he has a chance.

“No way William…bathroom, now.” You shove his backpack into his chest and usher him down the hallway as you both giggle at the absurdity.

You quickly clean the remnants of the last pieces of your ex and breathe a sigh of relief. You can hear the water running as you run down the hall to change out of your leggings and freshen up to meet your boys. A warm feeling you haven’t felt in a while working its way through your chest as you swell with pride taking in your appearance in your floor length mirror .

It’s not what you’re wearing or how your hair is done but the way you’re carrying yourself again. The brightness has returned to your features, your smile reaches your eyes again and you're standing a little taller. You went months avoiding your reflection not fully recognizing the person looking back at you.

Not wanting to waste anymore time you spritz some perfume and head out of your room to find Will in the kitchen rinsing your glasses of water. The sleeves of his gray Henley are rolled up to the elbow and he has on a pair of dark blue jeans. How he managed to make washing glass look sexy is beyond you.

“Ready sweetheart?” He turns to you as he dries his hands on the dish towel and you know he’s asking if you’re ready to leave but your answer means so much more.

“Yes I’m ready.”

****

You slide into your booth as you wait for Will to bring your drinks. He insisted on getting them and at this point you should just get used to doing whatever he says.

He makes his way over with something that doesn’t look like your regular beer, two short glasses with a honey colored liquid inside. He’s got this mischievous look that you’ve only seen reserved for Benny in his eyes and it makes you slightly nervous.

“I hope you don’t mind, I got us something a little stronger before the guys get here.” Liquid courage

“I don’t mind, but can I ask what it is?” He holds the glass out to you while he holds the other up in a toast.

“Whiskey.”

“Whiskey and what?” You sniff the glass immediately regretting that decision.

“Just whiskey babe.” That babe shoots straight to your core and you have to clench your thighs as you adjust in the seat.

You clink the glass and down the liquid before you can second guess yourself. It’s sweeter than you thought it would be and it warms you from within as you feel it travel down and settle deep in your stomach. You notice he didn’t finish his but it’s too late now.

“So…your dates have gone well.” So this is why he got whiskey.

“Oh god you know?” You groan, placing your head in your hands.

“I’m just teasin’ sweetheart.” Will always gave the best advice so you might as well use him while you can.

“Can I ask you something?” You would feel a little shy asking him but whatever was in that glass has you feeling bolder than usual.

“Sure, pretend I’m a therapist.” He puts his arm around you as he relaxes against the booth. Again with the pretending.

“This is weird right? He half chuckles to himself as his thumb rubs mindlessly on your arm.

“Weirder than putting your life on the line for the US government everyday for little to no pay.” Okay he had a point there.

“I just don’t want to be judged.” You pick at the old grooves in the wooden table, anything to distract you from this conversation.

“It seems like you’re judging yourself. I think you deserve a break so why don’t you cut yourself some slack.” If there was a word for relief and frustration that’s what you would be now with all of his perfect answers.

“How do I choose?” He takes a moment not having an answer prepared and you think you’ve finally stumped him.

“What makes you think you have to?” Your heart flutters in your chest at the deeper meaning in his tone. He’s so close to you now as you turn to look into his pale blue eyes, his pupils so blown you can barely make out the color.

“If it feels right just go with it.” The last words ghosted over your lips as he leans in waiting for you to pull back, but you don’t. He places a gentle kiss on your lips, almost experimenting with what you want.

You would have gladly accepted that as the one and only but you don’t have a chance as he deepens it,placing his hand behind your neck to tilt your head up. He’s kissing you like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted, stealing any breath you might have.

You knew he was precise in his everyday life, right down to the kiss that would’ve had your knees buckling if you were not already sitting.

Either this was an invasion of the body snatchers or Will…your Will just kissed you in a public bar.

“William Miller what has got into you.” You’re panting against his lips as you try to catch your breath.

“I’m done running from something that feels right.” Your hand is resting on his chest and you can feel his rapidly beating heart.

He kisses you again somehow already learning what drives you crazy as his other hand grips your exposed thigh under the table. You can taste the honey sweet whiskey as his tongue gently prods your mouth for entry. This is certainly too hot for the public but you could care less.

“This is an inappropriate patient-therapist relationship.”

“I resigned 5 minutes ago.” His soft pillowy lips meet yours again and it’s dizzying the way you feel all consumed by him. He’s a drug you’re having for the first time and you know you won’t be able to quit.

“Oh how convenient for us.” You say in between kisses as you bite his bottom lip gently pulling it between your teeth.

The growl that leaves him is faintly interrupted by the tell tale sound of Benjamin Miller entering the bar. He doesn’t pull away quickly, setting your heart at ease. He places one last kiss to your cheek as a to be continued.

Benny is practically skipping towards the booth with Santi in tow. Will gives your thigh one more squeeze before tipping his chin at his brother.

“You better get up and hug him before he has a meltdown.” He whispers a little too close in your ear sending shivers down your spine.

You slide out of the booth before he all but pulls you out and scoops you up into a hug. Your eyes go wide as Santi chuckles from behind him.

Frankie makes his way in and can’t help but laugh at the sight of you hoisted several feet in the air by the human golden retriever begging to be put down.

You see Frankie approaching and thank your lucky stars since Santi and Will seem to be no help, completely amused with the entire situation. You mouth help me as he taps the younger man’s shoulder.

“Put her down Ben.” He dramatically lets you slide down, knowing full well what it’s doing to you and your shorts. He seems so much taller than you as you're placed gently on the ground. A quick kiss to your forehead before he turns to slide into the booth next to Will.

“What was all that?” Benny gestures to you while you hug Frankie and Santi.

“Relax bro I’m just teasing…you deserve to be happy too.” He’s heard that before

Benny slides out of the booth not wanting to be left out of any interesting conversation for too long. Not wanting to be far from you.

Maybe he should take a page out of his own book and relax a little. Frankie didn’t mind and his brother didn’t seem to mind. He’s trying hard to force back the intrusive thoughts creeping in of what would people think? What would they say?

Honestly who gives a fuck what people think. As many times as the group of you have almost lost your lives it shouldn’t matter what he does going forward.

Santi uses this opportunity to occupy his brother's seat next to Will as he watches Frankie and Benny leave dueling kisses on your cheeks. Your squeals of excitement make him feel something akin to happiness with a tinge of jealousy.

“So you’re fine with all this.” Will still hasn’t looked away from you. The way you’ve always opened your heart to them suddenly filling his chest with pride.

“Ya man…I’m fine with all this.”

“Te has vuelto loco.” Santi chuckles as he crosses his arms.

“I don’t know what you said but it’s probably true and I could care less.” Will eases back into the booth smiling at the three of you telling some secret he wishes he was in on.

You turn and plop your hands on the table “I’m buying the first round and I don’t want to hear any grumbling from any of you.” You point to each of them.

“Yes ma’am.” They all say in unison.

“Wow… I didn’t actually think that would work.” You hold the back of your hands dramatically to Frankie and Bennys foreheads.

“You must be sick to agree that quickly.”

“Ya they’re sick all right.” Santi mutters under his breath as you walk away towards the bar. Narrowly missing the middle finger Frankie shoots him.

****

You can feel their eyes on you as you walk to the bar. It’s a little unnerving but exhilarating knowing how you can captivate them by simply walking away. You might as well sway a little since they obviously want a show.

You lean a little against the bar while you wait, drawing your jean shorts a little higher to show off the swell of your ass. The drink you had with Will giving you a boost of confidence,emboldening you a little more.

“Jesus Christ, how is she gonna do that after dropping that bomb on us?” Ben adjusts a little in his seat to get a better view.

“What bomb?” Santi looks at Ben who has yet to meet his gaze.

Frankie seems just as transfixed on you and he raises an eyebrow at Will who takes the final sip of the whiskey in the glass.

“Oh nothing…she just had a sex dream about me and Fish.”

Will sputters across the table as Frankie pats him on the back trying to contain his laughter. Santi gapes at them eyes wide in utter shock.

“What did she say?” Santi almost whispers as he turns to look at you not so innocently leaning on the bar and now is definitely not the moment to be adjusting himself under the table.

“Sorry,hermano, no details for you.” Frankie winks at Benny as you make your way back with a pitcher of beer and 5 glasses.

****

Several rounds later you made your way to the makeshift dance floor with Frankie and Benny. 20 dollars in the jukebox went quite a long way as you alternated spins and dips between the two men. The three of you blissfully unaware of the conversation being had about you just a few feet away.

“Admit it.” It’s almost as if Will can feel the envy radiating off his body.

“Admit what?” That he loves you.

“You want her…what they we have.” Santi clenches his jaw at the thought.

“Don’t try and shrink me Will, I don’t want any of this, it would never work.”

“Oh is that why you haven’t been on a date in months.” Fuck he hated how observant he was sometimes. It was very useful in the military but very annoying when you’re trying to hide your true feelings for your best friend.

Maybe if he let that part of himself go he could see how badly he wanted this but he knew inevitably he would mess it up just like everything else.

You were too perfect, too good. He almost broke you once and he vowed to never let himself be so weak as to do it again.

“I'm not trying to pressure you, I’m just saying you’ve wasted enough time not telling the person you’ve been in love with for the last ten years how you truly feel.” Santi looks at him as if he’s told some deep dark secret and not stated the most obvious thing a blind man could see it.

“We all do.”

“We all do what?” You slide into the booth next to Will obviously tipsy as you lean into his shoulder reaching to steal the rest of his beer.

“We all love the way you dance when you’re drunk.” He holds his beer just out of reach as you pout up at him.

“What… like she has two left feet.” Benny slides in next to you and pours you another beer much to your approval.

“Unless you plan on spending the night with us I suggest you slow down sweetheart.” Will slides your fresh beer to Santi and you scoff in his direction.

Frankie slides in next to Santi as a smug grin crosses his face.

“Oh…now this is interesting, where will you sleep?” He’s too proud of himself to notice your lack of awareness of the question. He could be very annoying and borderline mean when he was being smug.

“Well I usually sleep in Frankie’s bed.” You start to play with the hem of Benny's shirt completely oblivious to the brewing heated conversation.

Santi looks at Frankie as he scrubs his palm across his face.

“So where’s Benny in this scenario?” Santi crosses his arms leaning back in the booth.

“I’ve shared a bed with Fish, it's not a problem.” Benny is doing his best to ignore him as he continues the innocent game with you, tracing his thumb along your jaw.

“So Will…where do you sleep?” They all look to Santi as you are too distracted by Benny playing with the hair at the nape of your neck.

Frankie leans into him so only he can hear. “I know what you’re doing so I suggest you knock it off before she figures it out.”

“Don’t worry boys, I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself.” You look Santi directly in the eye as he averts his gaze to the table, slightly embarrassed at the way he was goading them on.

You were very much aware that he was acting like a petulant child but you weren’t gonna let him rain on your parade. If he wanted to be a dark cloud he could do that on his own.

****

You all finished your drinks and began your goodbyes. Will took Benny home to get some rest for his fight out of town the following evening.

Frankie offered to take you home before dropping off Santi. He had several flights booked for the next day so he didn’t have much to drink that night.

The drive was mostly in silence as you hummed innocently along to some tune on the radio.

There was however a silent war brewing in the front seat amongst the two men that you were completely oblivious too in your happy,hazy state.

Frankie pulls up to your home and hops out to open the truck door for you (always the gentleman).

Before getting out you lean forward towards the front seat behind Santiago. “I hope you sleep well now that you’re not worried about my sleeping arrangements.” You plant a kiss on his cheek and slide out, not noticing the way heat creeps up his neck.

If it was his plan to make an ass of himself tonight, he definitely succeeded.

“Goodnight cariño.” He knows you can’t hear him anymore as you and Frankie make your way up the path to your house, hands interlocked. He still has to say it all the same.

He watches as Frankie leans down to plant a kiss on your lips which you happily accept. Something deep in his chest stirs as he watches his two best friends embrace.

Frankie makes his way back to the truck with a bounce in his step. He missed seeing him this happy, it’s been so long for all of them. The energy in the truck has shifted during the short drive to Santi’s house as Frankie nervously taps his fingers on the steering wheel.

He pulls into the parking lot of his apartment and turns the truck off as they continue to sit in awkward silence.

“Just say it Pope.” Santi finally turns to look at him and open the floodgates but instead he takes in his odd appearance with his standard heating oil cap missing.

“Where’s your hat Fish?” Frankie narrows his eyebrows at him as he pats his head oddly feeling his hair.

“That little brat took my hat.” He’s grinning to himself while muttering curses in Spanish under his breath.

As if you knew what could break the tension between the two of them, Santi finally laughs and Frankie can’t help but join him at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Look Fish, I’m sorry I just wonder how it’s all gonna work. What if someone gets jealous? How is she gonna split her time? What are people gonna say?” Frankie is sarcastically nodding his head at each one of his questions seemingly waiting for him to finish spiraling.

“You done hermaño?” He asked himself all these same questions and still couldn’t come up with a reason to not take a chance.

“I don’t have any answers for you. All I know is we love that girl, we’ve never been jealous of each other, she seems to be splitting her time just fine seeing as we all hang out almost everyday and who gives a fuck what other people think.” It’s the first time he’s really said it out loud but Santi is speechless, maybe for the first time in his life.

“You deserve to be happy.” Suddenly everyone is so concerned with his happiness.

“You may be right… That scares me a little.” Frankie flips him off playfully as Santi opens the passenger door.

“Have fun getting your hat back.”

“I’ll get it in a few days, I don’t trust myself to go back right now.” Santi closes the door and pats the hood as he walks toward his apartment.

Ya I wouldn’t trust myself either.

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prolix-yuy · 1 year

Note

About Ms Jackson.. "“Catfish’s been walking around with a smile 24/7" I would love to see them teasing Frankie and making him blush but also super proud 🥰🥰

I love this ask! Pope did tease that the boys know what's going on, and there were a few days between the "session" and when they scheduled their first real date. So let's see how things progressed while they plucked up the courage to see each other again.

Callback

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x F!Reader "Ms Jackson"

Summary: How did the boys react to Frankie and Ms Jackson's meeting?

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: M, descriptions of sex work, allusions to sexual acts, Frankie overthinking, Santi being the scheming best friend we all need, some light angst but mostly fluff. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ so MINORS DNI.

Notes: Time for a little peek back at the beginning! I love bringing the boys back in to Frankie and Ms J's relationship, and that line did bring up some very cute scenes. Enjoy!

Cross-posted on AO3

Sex Worker!Frankie AU Masterlist

Santi makes an excuse to go over the day after - something about needing a tool, a made-up broken appliance - so he can see the result of his handiwork. He always hammered home that clients shouldn’t bleed into the boy’s lives, but there was something in your voice that made him pause. Either Will or Benny could have been good choices, and he knows you would have had an excellent time. But that one small sigh you made, the depth of hurt he could feel over the phone, the hesitation, all made his thoughts narrow to Frankie. He might be playing with fire, or he could be kindling a hearth in a home.

When Frankie opens the door, Santi’s chest expands. He’s lighter than Santi’s seen him in years, a bigger smile than necessary crinkling his face.

“Hey Santi, come in, I’ll get the pipe wrench for you. You want a beer or something?” Frankie asks, and there’s a goddamn bounce in his step as Santi follows him through the small apartment. Opening the slider door to a tiny balcony, Frankie kneels to rummage through his tool storage case. Santi leans causally in the doorway, studying Frankie’s broad back.

“How was last night?” he asks, fighting the smirk that wants to grace his face. Frankie stops rummaging, his hands dancing along the edge of the toolbox.

“It was…ah, hah, yeah, it was…” Frankie stammers, and Santi grins at his struggling friend.

“You can tell me the truth,” he prods, and Frankie grabs the pipe wrench and stands to face him.

He was right; Frankie’s almost sheepish as he hands Santi the wrench, leaning back against the balcony railing.

“First rule is not to get attached,” Frankie parrots, the words long etched in his brain. Santi rolls his eyes, tucking the excuse in his back pocket.

“Yeah and the second rule is I’m the boss and I’m asking if you had a good time.”

Frankie folds his arms, tilting his head down and chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment before meeting Santi’s gaze with a disbelieving smile.

“It was amazing,” he finally says, and his enthusiasm pulls Santi out of the doorway to clap a hand on his shoulder.

“I fucking knew it!” Santi crows, making Frankie blush several shades darker as he leans up next to him on the railing. “Tell me all about it. Is she cute?”

Frankie makes a face and pushes Santi with a wide palm.

“I don’t kiss and tell, pendejo,” he gripes.

“Are you serious? I pull off the greatest matchmaking of the twenty-first century and you’re not gonna spill?” Frankie rolls his eyes, but a smile is tugging at his lips.

“I don’t know, it was just…the connection was instant. That’s never happened before,” Frankie muses, Santi calming to watch him. The fondness that radiates in his eyes, the way his hands worry at his lower lip, the shifting posture, all blooms warmth in Santi’s chest.

“You get her number?” he asks, and Frankie bleats out a laugh.

“Yeah, we exchanged after dinner.” Santi’s eyebrows shoot up into his thick curls.

“Jeez, Fish, I knew you could be smooth but this is next level,” he laughs. “You gonna call her?”

At this Frankie’s posture shrinks imperceptibly, a small fall in his face.

“I want to. I really really want to. It’s just…it’s not supposed to start this way, you know? How’s she going to tell her friends we met?” Santi snickers loud enough that Frankie regards him more fully.

“Is that really what’s keeping you from the nicest thing you’ve let yourself have in ages?” Santi asks.

“We don’t really know each other,” Frankie refutes.

“That’s what first dates are for, idiota. Take her on one. Get to know her. If your chemistry outside the bedroom is half as good as in, you deserve to give it a shot.” Santi watches Frankie’s face as he turns the idea around in his head. It makes Santi sigh dramatically, pushing off from the balcony.

“And I deserve a beer for listening to you overthink this,” he says, heading in to raid Frankie’s fridge as he grumbles in behind him.

“Santi told us you met someone,” Benny asks when they’re out at the bar that night, sipping Modelos and waiting for the pool table to open up. Frankie stalls by taking a long pull, Benny’s expectant face hovering in his peripheral.

“It was a good session,” he finally responds, the butterflies in his stomach swirling as he recalls your face when you opened the door. The warmth of your body cradled in the bathtub. The softness of your mouth when he finally got to kiss you.

“I literally just watched you flash back like a lovestruck teenager, Frank, cut the bullshit,” Benny interrupts, making Frankie blush and tuck his chin deeper into his jacket collar. “When are you gonna call her?”

“I don’t know, she’s a client…” Frankie starts, but Benny interrupts him.

“Don’t pull that card, that’s just nerves talking. You remember Vanessa?” Benny asks, Frankie nodding. “She was a client first. You’re right to be careful, but there are exceptions. Plus then she knows what she’s getting into and you don’t have to have that awkward ‘I do sex work’ conversation with someone new.”

“But I don’t anymore.”

“See, but you did, and let me tell you, the girls that see that as a dealbreaker aren’t worth your time.” Benny sees a table open up and jogs to it, putting down a few crumpled dollars on the wood frame. “Just call, you’re so obviously into her.”

Frankie waves Benny off, going to choose a pool cue, but when he comes back Benny puts a grounding hand on his shoulder.

“There’s some part of you that’s saying you don’t deserve this, and I am emphatically telling that voice to fuck off. You do. I haven’t seen you this relaxed in ages, brother, and if kicking your ass over this decision helps you make it I will gladly smear you down the sidewalk. And in this game.” Benny releases Frankie’s shoulder with a slap, walking around the table rack up the balls. When he’s not looking Frankie surreptitiously checks his phone.

No calls, no new messages. He pockets it and takes another pensive sip of his beer.

“Did Santi really blab this to everyone?” Frankie bemoans, a smile creeping onto Will’s face from under the car hood.

“I think he’s prouder of himself than of you,” Will teases, straightening up to wipe oil from his hands. Frankie normally has no issues changing his own, but the shop is convenient and Will was waiting for a customer pickup.

“It’s been two days, right? That’s an acceptable time to wait. You don’t look desperate, and she’s had enough time to hope you might call,” Will offers, a knowing smile making Frankie sigh and tilt his face to the ceiling.

“I know, I know, I just…fuck,” Frankie murmurs, and Will’s face softens, sitting on a shop stool while Frankie paces.

“I did think Santi might be playing it up, but I see it too, Fish. You’ve had a really hard go of it lately, and this is the first time I can remember you actually looking excited about something.” Frankie avoids Will’s observant gaze, tapping his fingers on the hood of his truck. Analyzing the scratches he wants to buff out is easier than going down this path.

“What’s stopping you?” Will asks, and Frankie sighs long and exhaustively.

What was making this so hard?

“I don’t want to fuck it up. She’s funny, and sweet, and pretty, and I am really fucking attracted to her. But everything I’ve tried to do right the last few years I’ve made a mess of. I don’t want to make a mess of her. She doesn’t deserve that.”

Will nods, staring hard at Frankie’s discomfort.

“You told her about yourself?”

“Some, not everything.”

“She tell you about herself?”

“Yeah, went through a bad divorce, couldn’t bring herself to date. She thought this might be easier.” Frankie laughs a little at that. Turns out nothing is remotely easy about this.

“Broken pieces can still come together well,” Will says sagely, making Frankie snort.

“Okay Gandhi,” he teases, making Will toss a shop towel at him.

“Fine, don’t take my advice.”

“But?”

“But what?”

“Normally that comes with a ‘but’ at the end of it.”

“But nothing. You don’t have to do shit I tell you.” Will gets up at the crunch of a car turning into the drive. “But three out of four probably aren’t wrong,” he shoots over his shoulder before going to greet the customer.

Monday night inventory at the shop had devolved into beers on Will’s back porch, the first vestiges of spring finally making an appearance. Santi complained that it was too cold to drink with jackets on, the response of course being to mercilessly force him outside. The air is crisp and clean, the beer on Frankie’s tongue mellow and cleansing. He’s glad this remained after everything that happened between them.

A ping echoes from Frankie’s pocket, muffled under his jacket. He digs in as Benny rattles off next weekend’s game stats to Santi, Will emerging from the house with a platter of burgers. The name on the text glows up on Frankie’s face, illuminating the progression of confusion, realization and elation.

“She texted,” he breathes out, and the noise comes to a stop.

“Wait really?” Benny spins to Frankie, who turns the phone screen to the boys with a dazed smile.

“Holy shit, we love a girl with some initiative!” Santi crows, slapping Frankie on the back. They crowd behind him to look at the text.

Hey Frankie

I hope it’s okay that I texted first. We haven’t been that traditional in the first place, right?

I had an amazing time on Friday, and I’d like to see you again if that’s not breaking any rules.

“Fish, you cannot let this girl get away,” Benny says, jostling Frankie enough that he bats them all away.

“Okay, okay, I’ll text her back,” Frankie gripes with no heat behind the words.

“Remember - tell her something that lets you know you listened to her!”

“Suggest a date!”

“Place and time, buddy, show her you’re serious.”

The overlapping voices fade to the background as Frankie types out his response.

Been meaning to call you since Saturday morning, but I got in my own head about it.

I don’t mind breaking rules. How does Friday at seven sound?

Your text returns moments later, the boys all watching in anticipation.

Sounds a little far away, but I’m a patient woman.

Frankie grins into his chest as the boys erupt into cheers, jostling him around and shouting about bets places without his knowledge. It covers up your second text, just for Frankie.

Can’t wait to see you again.

Neither can he.

From the other side of the porch Santi smiles slyly into his beer, the email he sent that morning a secret he’ll keep close for the time being.

Catfish’s been walking around with a smile 24/7. Let’s call that session on the house. Although when we get to meet, you’re paying me back in drinks.

If that was the nudge you both needed, he was happy to be of service.

END

The story continues in Nine in the Afternoon

#francisco catfish morales x f reader #francisco morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x f!reader #francisco morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fic #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales fanfiction #frankie catfish morales x reader #sw!frankie #prolix fics

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legacyshenanigans · 3 months

Text

You know what, fuck it, I'm gonna tell y'all another story, while I'm reminiscing to myself about past shit. To be honest, this one really is wild as fuck, it's probably one of the most scary and downright STUPID things I have EVER fucking done. And looking back, I can't help but CRINGE at myself for being such a fucking idiot.. So strap it for this one. 😅 Its like..NOT even funny, but I can't help but use laughing emojis because thats just how I fuckin deal with things lmao. It's another "Met someone online" story.

I'd again, being 18 and stupid, I met a guy online, exchanged numbers, we spoke on the phone a few times, I thought he was hot from the pics i'd seen, I was down to fuck, so was he, so he asked me to go to his house.

First red flag was the fact that HE could drive and I couldn't at the time, yet he didn't want to come and pick me up, I had to get to his place myself, So I did. I had to take like 2 different buses and then a taxi to his place, because he lived in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.

So I pull up to this gaff, walk to the door, knock, some man answers and I ask if *dude I'd been talking to* was there, and he tells me that it's him. I'd been catfished, dude didn't look ANYTHING like the photo's I'd seen of "him" but it was definitely him because i knew his voice. He very confidently invited me inside, and I WENT INSIDE..

His house was literally a wreck too, it looked OK from the outside, but inside was awful, there was literally walls missing and stuff, and it was just a complete mess, kinda like he was in the process of having work done on his house, but the house was also just minging and gross, and it smelt weird as fuck, and just from looking around it wasn't just one room, this dudes whole ass house was like this.

Anyway...I don't know WHAT THE FUCK I was thinking at the time but he starts kissing me and I GO WITH IT. I assumed he was going to take me upstairs to his bedroom, but he didn't he lead me into a garage area where there was a dirty old mattress on the floor, and we proceeded to have sex on it.

Now, you're gonna be like "Girl wtf?!" But the sex itself was pretty decent lmfao. The man knew what he was doing. HOWEVER the situation as a WHOLE was all kinds of fuckin weird and messed up 😅

Anyway...After we fuck, we kinda just like, sit there, on the dirty ass mattress for a while, talking, and then the realisation hit me and I remember thinking "Woah, this is weird, what the FUCK am I doing? I need to get the fuck out of here" So I got up and got dressed and politely told him I needed to go, I remember he just kinda nodded and was like "Ok cool" and I just left, I was in the middle of nowhere but I didn't wanna call another taxi, and have to wait around at his house for it, so I wandered down some dirty road for a while until I got somewhere I could explain to the taxi place where I was. Went back to the bus station, took another 2 buses and went home..

Took a screenshot of his dating profile.

Blocked him, blocked his number, sent the dating app an email saying that his profile was fake, and that was it.

So yeah.

Again..Wild...Wild and FUCKING stupid of me 😅

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dootznbootz · 1 month

Note

Hi! I want to know more about the Water wife, I´ve a really small understanding of this take on Penelope and i wANT TO KNOW MORE!!!!

Thanks for being so kind! 💙

I WILL HAPPILY

(understand that these are just headcanons/my ideas and I'm very silly)

Go through the tag of #my headcanons if you want more stuff though honestly, as...I write a LOT about her.

Not gonna lie, this is a LOT of rambling. Also certain things I won't say as I DO plan to someday write Odypen's courting and I want the readers to "fall in love" with her ALONGSIDE Odysseus. We already know him. But the Odyssey kind of keeps a lot of her intentions/sneakiness hidden on purpose because she's just as much of an enigma to Odysseus as the Narrator in a way. (it's one of the things I love so much about her). I hope to write her in a way that "reveals" HER as well.

Honestly I'll try and tag all my stuff with her with Water Wife (maybe without tm because...that was just for the silly and it's sometimes annoying to dig up the emoji thing on computer)

I take a lot of liberties with everything "nonmortal" (demigods, nymphs, etc.) because honestly it's just genuinely fun to write about plus I'm neurodivergent :P also have chronic pain, so I like writing SOME of my gals doing athletics. Mostly just Penelope and Helen being SUPER into it while other women have some activities they like. Ctimene for example, likes running and Anticlea woodcarving (who Odysseus learned it from)

Also silly thing, but one thing I always try to keep in mind is the idea of "A lot of people write women just reacting and not affecting" and I feel like people think Homer and other Ancient Greek Authors do that when...No. They write very dynamic and complex women. Penelope isn't JUST "sobbing" when the suitors are there. If it weren't for her schemes, she'd be married already. BUT NO!!! She's so cunning and held them off WITHOUT physical force!!!

"She should've killed them-" YEs! BUT there are also the political implications of that and xenia to consider!!! Literally at the end of the Odyssey, Athena has to calm everybody down!!! She couldn't do that without even more angry people coming at her!!! rtdyfugh ANYWAYS

I also take "likeminded" and sprint with it. For every shitty/wonderful thing Odysseus has done, she's rooting for it or would do something similar. They're as full of love as they are full of hate.

These two are that "evil couple" sometimes. She's sitting in his lap and they just humiliated someone publically and laugh at them and then they start nuzzling noses, giggling.

She's prideful in many ways as well and she's not against throwing someone under the bus if she needs to and WILL blackmail. You're afraid of snakes and she doesn't like you? "Oh my gosh! What do you think of my new snake necklace?"

She's pretty reckless often in her youth (Her and Odysseus both got that Adhd swag). For example, in my one fic's first chapter, it mentions how she ate a catfish that is making her sick. She rushed in and wasn't even thinking about "...Hey, isn't this one kind of weird?" She was pretending she was fine at first when she clearly wasn't as she doesn't like showing "weakness" (plus adrenaline). Also as she just gave birth like, 8-9 months before, she's in a weird funk of feeling strange about how her body has changed a bit despite recovering very well (water helps!). She's soooo happy she took the "beast" down. While sick, she knew she was reckless and mad at herself.

She's actually closest with Helen probably. Her siblings are a bit older than her and as she was born in a creek and quite smaller because of it (Naiads being affected by the waters they were born in) she got teased by some other naiads for quite a while. Helen is also, a little shit, in her own way so these two loved doing silly shit often. (Penelope, Helen, Menelaus, Castor, and Pollux, were this very strange little squad of kiddos who just...did random shit. They each have scars and knicks from their silliness (except Helen and Pollux))

Some of the scales she has on her arms and one shoulder, dry out quicker, from one of the times older naiads got a hold of her and kind of ripped at them :'D "Puddle girl"

It's something she carries with her in a way and when her water breaks with Telemachus, she hides it at first being like "Hey, let's head towards the caves!!!" until Odysseus realizes and he's so frustrated and upset with her has to scoop her up. (her stubbornness and recklessness) He scolds her after everything calms down like two weeks later.

Funny enough, I've had this idea for a LONG time even before I watched the 90's Odyssey. Odysseus just gives that vibe of "I'm not fucking leaving." don't he?

Odysseus: I can't believe you did that. The Canals were closer, Penelope- Penelope: I know but he'd be so much stronger if he were born in the caves and he is. AND I'm fine!!! I'm actually doing very well.

She hates bracelets. She usually ends up breaking them from messing with them too much.

Athena technically spoke with her first before Odysseus but Athena was WATCHING Odysseus for a longer time.

She's really close with her parents because her eldest sister got married quite young and her brothers are in the military. She goes running with dad often (let me have this) and she enjoys swimming (ofc), running, and pankration (Idk why I think it's really neat but I do)

She's got a scar on her temple that is kind of hidden by her hair from when she got washed away once when she was little (the scars she DOES have are because of her own novice attempts at healing, otherwise she doesn't have really any) and she's got a little crook in her nose, something she's self-conscious about as it was one of her first times "setting bone" with water and so it didn't end up perfect. It's not too noticeable but of course, you notice your own flaws more than others. (When she finally allows Odysseus to kiss her face, he immediately places a little kiss on her nose.)

There's...SO many more but yeah. a lot of basics.

#honestly for behavior? If you're thinking “that's something Odysseus would do.” then yeah. she MIGHT do it a different way #but she'd want the same result #Water Wife #Mad rambles #shot by odysseus #my headcanons #ask #aaronofithaca05

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thefloorisbalaclava · 2 years

Text

a forever type of love

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x F!Reader

Words: 876

Warnings: Some self-deprecation, lots of kisses, cuddles, Frankie baby just needs some reassurance.

Summary: You and Frankie do not have a typical relationship, but you like it that way.

A/N: It’s been a while since I’ve written about my best boy. Luckily, someone sent in a request and changed that!

[frankie masterlist pt. 1][frankie masterlist pt. 2]

Frankie is a good man. No, he’s a great man. You wish he knew this.

Society would try to make him feel ashamed.

After everything that had happened in his life, it was hard for him to find work. It was hard for him to do a lot of things. He struggled to make sense of it all. What was wrong with him? Why was he like this? And you had to tell him that there was nothing wrong with him. What he was suffering from was understandable, and there was no shame.

You both agreed that he would stay home for now. You didn’t mind. He had no idea how happy you were to come home every day, knowing he would be there to greet you. Sometimes it was a shout from the basement as he did laundry. Other times he peeked his head out from the kitchen while making dinner to welcome you home. There was nothing like coming home and wrapping your arms around the man you love after a long day.

You don’t call him a ‘stay-at-home husband’ or a ‘house husband’; no, he was just your husband. That word was important enough on its own.

You loved how he told you everything he did around the house while you were at work. He was proud, and that made you proud. He told you he was interested in planting a garden as you both washed and dried dishes.

“I think growing our veggies would be cool,” he said with an adorable smile.

“I never knew my husband had such green thumbs,” you joked. “Go for it. It might be kinda hot to come home and see you bent over, covered in dirt.”

“Babe,” he chuckled before sprinkling you with some water.

You just looked at him for a moment and smiled. “I love seeing you like this, Frankie.”

“Like what?”

“Happy,” you told him, and he shrugged sheepishly.

“It took some time, but I think I finally found my groove. I have you to thank for that.” He nudged you playfully as he dried his hands. “I couldn’t have done it on my own.”

“I’m proud of you, Frankie, and I love you.” You hugged him, and he tucked a hand under your chin to lift your head so he could kiss you.

“I love you, too. Let’s go. Shower then bed for you, miss.” He tapped your butt, and you both went upstairs.

After your shower, you lay in bed talking to him.

“Oh yeah, I also changed the sheets,” he said proudly.

“These are my favorite,” you said.

“I know.” He touched your face gently.

“You’re the best husband a girl could ask for.” You snuggled closer.

“Am I?” He wrapped an arm around you.

“Mmhmm.” You rubbed your nose against his and smiled.

“Thank you,” he said before kissing you once.

“For what?” you asked.

“I dunno. For loving me, I guess…even though I’m not a typical kind of husband.” His words trailed off.

“What do you mean?” You sat up slightly.

“Uh…it doesn’t matter. Never mind.” He shrugged and stared at the ceiling.

“Tell me, Frankie.”

“I …you work, and I stay at home. I’m not a typical husband. We don’t have a typical relationship.”

“Who said we had to be typical?” you asked.

“Society,” he responded.

“Fuck society. Are you happy, Frankie?”

“I’m…I’m ecstatic. I never thought I would find someone like you, but I also have doubts every…fucking…day.” He clenched his jaw and shook his head.

“Doubts about us?” you wondered nervously.

“What? No. About me. About the possibility of losing you.” He looked at you, and his eyes gleamed with unshed tears.

“I’m not going anywhere, Frankie. Listen to me, I never wanted typical. I’ve loved you for a thousand years, baby, and I’m gonna love you for a thousand more.” You held his face in your hands. “Yes, I work, and you stay home, and maybe society finds that atypical, but I don’t, and you shouldn’t either.” You stroked his cheekbones.

“But—”

“This is us. This is how it was meant to be, how we were meant to be. I wouldn’t have it any other way, okay?” You smiled at him.

“Okay.” He smiled sadly, then crushed himself to you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “What do they call it…a fucking…house husband? Stay-at-home husband?” he chuckled against your neck.

“I don’t care what they call it, babe,” you told him.

He sat up. “You’ll come home one day, and I’ll be wearing a French maid outfit,” he joked, and you snorted.

“Hmmm…that might be kinda hot, actually,” you teased, and he playfully tackled you onto your back while laughing.

“They can call me whatever they want as long as I get to be yours,” he said, smiling down at you.

“You are mine, Frankie, baby. You’re mine, and I love you.” You kissed him.

“And I love you.” He laid his head on your chest and sighed happily.

“I kinda wanna buy you a French maid outfit now,” you said, holding back a laugh.

“Shut up,” he chuckled. You played with his hair, and he sighed. “I’m so lucky,” he said quietly. “So lucky.”

But you were luckier.

#frankie baby #frankie morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #headcanon

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beefrobeefcal · 6 months

Note

BB, I am on death's doorstep over this man's tummy in that visibly too-small tac vest. Look at it. LOOK AT THAT SQUISHY BELLY! 😭💀

So this got me thinking...what if Mouse comes across the tac vest one day while she and Frankie are in the middle of a decluttering weekend? She stashes it away for safekeeping with a mischievous smirk.

Later that night, after Frankie's had his fill of their favorite takeout, Mouse brings out the vest and asks him to try it on. "Please, Frankie Baby? I wanna see how it looks on you. 🥺"

Frankie looks reluctant...the vest was already on the snug side the last time he wore it in Colombia, and he's grown in more ways than one since that dark time. And Mouse? Well, Mouse KNOWS the vest isn't gonna fit. She's not even sure it's gonna close over his round belly...especially with all the indulging he did at dinner.

But sweet baby Frankie is not one to deny his Mouse anything. Right, BB??

Lovey - you know I got you!

HELL YEAH. YES. WE NEED TO SEE IT ON HIM. and we get out wish.

Smuttiest regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

--------<3---------

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Chubby!Frankie one shot

The Catfish & The Mouse: Frankie Takes a Trip Down Memory Lane

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Summary: Mouse finds some old relics and Frankie puts on a show.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Word Count: 3,722

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, weight talk, food talk, belly worship, bely rubs, size kink, unprotected p in the v sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy, kids!), v-fingering, dirty talk, the usual Frankie & Mouse shenanigans

Author's Notes: Thank you @thehalflifeofloveisforever - not only did you gift the amazing art of Frankie, you also stuck it out at the first beefro @ the Movies and listened to my unhinged thirsting for Frankie on screen. Thank you for being a Friendo and this one is for you!

And thanks to my lovely Beta Fish @neverwheremoonchild for doing what they do best 💜

--------<3---------

When you and Frankie moved in together, you’d rented a storage locker for all you stuff that didn’t quite fit in your first apartment. But even after moving into your house, neither of you really gave that storage locker much thought outside of grabbing the Christmas decorations each late fall and retiring them in January.

But you’d had enough of that monthly charge on your credit card getting a little higher over time and that was why you were now sitting on a box, sorting through your and Frankie’s separate histories. Frankie was at work, and you’d agreed to not dispose of his stuff – just to bring it home and let him deal with it - you’d managed to sift and sort through all of your boxes, filling up the back of the rented cube van. There was one thing left in the locker and it was a large, metal chest containing Frankie’s military gear.

He hadn’t hidden his past from you and had even shown you what he had in the chest when it was being stored. You opened it and pulled some of the clothing and gear out, smiling at how small it looked. The clothing and gear were from when Frankie was a much, much thinner man, easily less than half his current size. You then pulled an envelope out and opened it, revealing some pictures of Frankie with Santi, Will and Benny. Even though you knew it was him, it still didn’t feel real that the lanky, broad shouldered, baby face smiling in the photographs was now the big bellied, sweet, chubby Frankie that you loved so much.

A devious grin crossed your face as a thought entered your mind. The clothing and gear in the chest would have been bigger on you, but you were absolutely certain that Frankie would be hard pressed to even get the vest around his chest, let alone his belly…

*****

Frankie stood up from the table after devouring his dinner. His stomach was big and round, projecting out and side to side and he huffed as he stood to his full height with his back arched to accommodate the weight he’d packed into himself.

“You ate well…”, you cooed, patting his belly.

He’d been eating really well as of late, his tummy becoming more prominent. He also now needed bigger portions to get full, and you had been more than happy to oblige him. He’d told you last week that he’d had to size up his coveralls again, and when you asked him to bring home his old ones and show you, the sight of him standing before you with his empty belly and chubby love handles stopping the zipper from closing left you a whining mess, begging him to fuck you.

“Yeah… getting pretty big.”, he smiled back, slapping his belly. The dull thud noise it made from being so full was music to your ears. But it did give you pause.

He’d mentioned a few times how big he felt, how big he was getting, and you weren’t sure if this was still what he wanted. He never expressed frustration or discomfort, but there was an air of something in his comments.

“You still happy?”, you asked softly, your hand sliding down and rubbing his underbelly, feeling how heavy his tummy was. “Still happy with this belly?”

He looked at you, his hand finding yours, and nodded with a little bit of nervousness. “Yeah… think I’m where I wanna be… here… not any bigger though; it’s getting kinda hard working on big rigs when I’m just as… big.”, he chuckled at his last statement, then his voice went quiet. “Is that… okay?”

“Yeah, honey… totally fine.”, you smiled, standing on your tip toes and kissing him. “I love you and want you to be happy… and if that means this – “, you said giving his belly a squeeze. “- stays like this? I’m happy.”

He kissed you back sweetly and moved to the couch while you cleaned up after dinner.

*****

After the final pan was washed, dried and put away, you walked into the den to find Frankie laid back and snacking on some snack cakes that you didn’t even realize he’d grabbed enroute to the couch.

His eyes turned to you, and a bashful grin appeared on his face as he swallowed.

“Hey princess… just having a snack.”

You huffed a laugh and walked up to him, pressing a kiss to his forehead and rubbing his belly. Even as he was laid down, his tummy felt firm and full under a layer of softness, and it protruded up from his body.

He hummed in contentment as his hand interlaced his fingers with yours, pulling your hand to his mouth and kissing it.

He looked up at you and smiled. “I meant to ask: how’d you fare with the storage locker?“

“Oh, it’s done. I conquered that shit like a pro.” You gave him your best Rosie the Riveter pose.

“Hey! Good girl!” Frankie beamed up at you. “And my stuff?”

“All your stuff remained intact and it’s in the garage…”, you stated, then your voice dipped into a low, sultry tone as your fingers walked up his hefty tummy. “… except a few things I brought inside… for you to try… on.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows raised and he lowered the footrest. He huffed as he sat up and his belly pushed his thighs open, and he leaned forward, hands on his knees.

“What you got for me, princess?”

“Just stay there… I’ll be right back.”, you chirped as you skipped down the hallway to your bedroom.

When you emerged back in the den, Frankie looked up and his jaw dropped. There you were, in the black bra and pantie lingerie set he’d picked up for your last birthday, your platform heeled combat boots and his tactical vest.

“Oh fuck…”, Frankie groaned, reaching under his belly and palming his crotch. “You know what you’re doing, princess?”

“You like it?”, you tried your hand a pin up pose.

He held his hand out to you. “Come here, princess.”

You grinned wryly at him and took a step back.

He shook his head, keeping firm eye contact, and he growled, “No… don’t you dare. You wanna dress like a soldier, princess, you take orders like one.”

You eyed him again, gauging if it would be worth it for you to make him chase you. He narrowed his eyes at you, and leaned forward a bit further, like he was readying himself to get up.

“Don’t do it, princess. Get over here and fall in fucking line. Now.”

“Sir. Yes, sir.”, you purred as you walked towards him, swaying your hips, and took his hand.

Frankie smugly grinned and tugged you on him; you squeaked and hitched your knee on the arm rest and stood, straddling his thigh.

“Good girl…”, he crooned as his hand not holding yours reached between your legs and stroked your clothed folds, and you sucked in a breath.

“You look good in my vest, princess… it’s a little big on you, but you look fucking hot…”

“Want you to put it on… wanna see it on you… please Frankie…”, you whined, rocking your hips against his hand.

He huffed a chuckle and smiled. “Mouse baby, you’ve ensured I can’t fit into anything I wore last year, let alone shit I wore in the military.”

“I know… that’s the point.”, you panted, wrapping your hand around the wrist of the hand between your thighs. “Wanna see you try… wanna see all my hard work… please, Frankie baby.”

Frankie’s face slacked and he let out soft groan at your words and your palm coming down to the front of his full belly and firmly patting and caressing him.

“There were pictures in with your tac vest, Frankie… you were so skinny… but look at you now… you got big, baby… twice the man you used to be… eating well… getting big… getting round… making your belly heavy and full… look so good like this… but I gotta see it, baby… gotta see you get this vest on you…”

His hazy eyes looked at you as he panted slightly. He nodded dumbly, licked his lips, and hoarsely replied, “Yeah, princess… that what you want?”

You nod and grin mischievously. “Yeah, baby… wanna see you in this – “, you shimmied your chest to highlight the vest, “- so we can have a comparison.”

A smile crept across Frankie’s face; he gently pushed you back and hoisted himself off the couch and stood up. Even with the platform combat boots, he stood a head above you.

He hooked his fingers in the arm holes of the vest and pulled you towards him slowly.

“Looks like it might be a little small, princess.”, he grinned. “Anything you want me to try and get on with it?”

Your hand snakes down his front and you gently gripped his almost-hard cock through his jeans. “It’s laid out in the bedroom for you…”

You tugged his cock and he grunted. “Don’t tease… Gimme the vest, Mouse…”

You let go of him and undid the vest, removed it and handed it to him. He watched your every move and made a low whistle at you standing before him in nothing but your lace lingerie and boots.

He took one last look then walked down the hall to your bedroom.

*****

You sat on the couch, curled up in the corner where Frankie previously sat, playing on your phone while you waited for Frankie. You heard some grunting and swearing coming from your bedroom, and you looked up, trying to see down the hallway.

“You need help, honey?”, you called out.

“Close your eyes, princess!”, he called back.

You did as requested, and you heard the bedroom door open, then heard Frankie lumber down the hallway towards you.

You knew he stood in front of you, not only from his footsteps creaking the floor, but you also could hear the fabric he was wearing creaking and stretching over his body.

He was breathing heavier, like getting the clothing on was strenuous but you could hear his smile when he spoke next, his voice deep.

“Open your eyes, princess.”

The sight before you was everything you had hoped it would be. Frankie stood with his legs wide, as if standing at ease, his cargo khaki pants pulled up but tight on his thighs and undone, and his faded red t-shirt pulled tight across his chest and shoulders and unable to go down any further than that. His round, fully belly prominently sticking out, preventing both the shirt and pants from being able to meet and sit where intended. His old Standard Oil trucker hat was on his head with his aviator sunglasses on his face.

You noted the tac vest was not on him but hanging at his side. He saw you look at it and he sucked in a breath and held it up in one hand as his other slapped his belly.

“The vest ain’t gonna fit, princess… sorry baby… you fed me way too good.”, he chuckled as you got up from the couch and walked towards him.

“I’ll help.”, you cooed, taking the vest from him as you both had stupid grins on your faces.

You helped him get the over his head and one arm through, but getting the side done up was a struggle.

“Frankie… did this ever fit you?”, you giggled as you tried to tug the sides together.

“Well… ooof! … yeah… but the last time I tried when we moved in together, it was – hmph! – getting a bit tight…”, he grunted as he tried to suck in his belly to to avail, then he laughed, and his tummy bounced. “Look what you’ve done to me!”

Your giggles continued as you finally got one of the clips to close, right under his armpit.

“Hey! We got one!”, you chirped, and Frankie laughed.

“Jesus, it’s tight!”, he huffed out with a smile.

You stood back and took in all that was Frankie. “God dammit…”, you breathed as you looked over his big form. “Look fucking good, Morales…”

“I look like an overstuffed sausage shoved in a shrunken leather glove – “

“Don’t… baby, don’t do that…”, your hand cupped his cheek and turned his face to yours, and the other caressed his chubby waist. “You look like a man who’s served his country and is now enjoying life with a woman who loves every pound, every ounce of you.”

“Fuck, you’re good.”, he said with a lopsided grin. “I love you so much… I’m a lucky bastard.”

“I love you, too.”

He leaned down and kissed you, then pulled away with his eyes and smile wide.

“Take a picture! Mouse! Get your phone and take a picture!”, he excitedly said.

You giggled, grabbing your phone. Frankie posed as though nothing was amiss with his outfit and then you got an idea. You grabbed o w of the photograph of Frankie wearing the exact outfit he was in and gave it to him, giggling.

“Hold it up. I’ll get a ‘before and after’ picture!”

He looked at the photo then smiled and held it up, and you got a shot of him, twin smiles almost a decade apart.

The size difference shot a hot spike in your core, and you clenched your thighs. It didn’t go unnoticed by Frankie, and his smile slid into a devilish grin. He took your phone to have a look; you thought he was texting the photo to himself.

“You like what you see, princess?” He began moving towards you. “Like seeing how big you got me?”

“Yeah… baby, yeah, I do.”, you almost panted, nodding as he stood less than a foot from you.

“Tell me how it makes you feel to see me like this- “, he grabs your hand pushes it against his belly, shaking it and making you feel the weight of him, “- to know this is all your handiwork.”

You let out a breathy whimper from your parted, pouted lips.

“Tell me, princess, how it feels to know you’re making me outgrow all my clothes so fast.”

“Frankie…”, you whimpered in a whisper, realizing he was backing you slowly towards the couch.

“Yeah, princess? You wanna tell me how much you like knowing how much bigger I am than you? That why you keep me well fed?”

The back of your knees hit the couch and you fell back with a squeak and Frankie stood over you between your parted knees. He reached under his arm and undid the vest, pulling it off and tossing it to the side.

He bent down and slid his hand between your thighs, pushing your lace thing to the side and feeling how slick you were.

“So fucking wet for me… my kinky baby… my princess gets wet from getting me fat.”, he smugly cooed. He kept eye contact with you as you breathed in and opened your mouth, eyes trying not to roll back. You could feel your cunt gushing again with the way he spoke to and looked at you.

“And my princess likes being called out for making me big… I can feel you getting wetter… pretty little pussy’s just fluttering and clenching on nothing but the hope this fat guy’s gonna fuck you stupid, huh?”

Your eyes widened and before you could respond, he pushed two thick fingers into your core. You gasped and grabbed his arm as his other hand played on the headrest of the couch beside your head.

“Fuck, Mouse… so fucking wet… baby, so tight… love this pussy… love my pussy… so fucking warm and wet…”, he murmured as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. The sounds coming from your mouth and count were like music to him; your whimpers, gasps and cries juxtaposed to the wet, slick and obscene sounds he was pulling from your core.

“Frankie! … please… please baby… please I need… I want you on me… wanna – fuck! – wanna feel how heavy you are… please… please fuck me!”

He smiled and kept fucking you with his fingers. “Princess, you're so sneaky. You've got everybody fooled."

You looked up at him, panting and confused. "What...what do you mean, Frankie?"

“People take one look at me and assume I'm a greedy, fat guy. But YOU'RE the greedy one, baby.”, he growled, circling his thumb on your clit, increasing the speed of his fingers. “You can't get enough of this belly, can you? Never gonna get your fill? You fucking love it when people ask you what you're feeding me. You think you do a good job of hiding it, but I know, Princess. I know."

Words failed you as the coil in your lower belly snapped and you came hard on his fingers, a wet patch now on the couch under you.

“Good girl…”, he groaned as he lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. “I could tell everyone I got fat on your sweet pussy, and they’d believe me.”

He grinned and leaned down, catching your lips in a fevered kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue and your arms wrapped around his neck, and moaned into his mouth, “Please, Frankie…”

He pulled back and you both tugged and pulled at the too-tight khakis and his boxers to free his aching cock. You then removed your panties, and he pushed you to lay across the couch as you frantically kissed one another. He sat up on his knees and gripped your knee, pulling your hips towards him, and he lined himself up with you and pushed in, leaning over you. Both of you let out a gasp as his hand found yours and interlaced, and you assumed Frankie was going to make love to you.

You couldn’t have been more wrong. What you didn’t realize was how riled up Frankie really was at your confirmation that you loved what you’d done to him. You’d made him bigger, softer, heavier, bulkier – and you loved him even more for it. The idea that he, at his size and in too small clothing, made you that wet and needy… it flipped a switch in his brain and put him on auto pilot; set him on a dangerous crash trajectory to fucking you hard and fast into the couch.

He let go of your hand and when you tried to sit up to catch his mouth in a kiss, he pulled your hips towards him harshly. You fell back and he snapped his hips into yours, forcing low grunts from him and panting whines from you. He put his whole weight into his harsh thrusts, making each time his cock impaled you sting – but you didn’t care right now, he felt so good.

“Can’t even see where I’m fucking you… made me so big… can’t see your tight pussy sucking me in… but fuck… I can feel it…you like having a fat guy fuck you, princess?... that’s why you’re so fucking wet…”

You cried out as he picked up the pace and intensity. He planted a foot on the floor, giving him more power to his already heavy thrusts and causing your body to rub into the coarse fabric of the couch. You could feel the friction making your back warm, and you knew you’d feel it afterwards – but you didn’t care right now; he felt so good.

“Fr-Frankie!... baby… keep – fuck!... keep going… don’t stop… look s-so good… so big… so fucking big!”

“Yeah?... that’s why your pussy’s holding on so hard… fuck… feels so good, Mouse… look so beautiful, baby… fucking small under me…”, he grunted, feeling your cunt start to spasm, knowing you were close. He released one of your knees, brought his thumb to his mouth and coated it in his spit, then brought it to your swollen clit and rubbed circles. “Come on, princess… come for me… come on… lemme feel it…”

Your body reacted quickly, and you came hard, back arched, his name peeling from your throat.

“That’s it… good girl… good…fucking…girl!”, Frankie groaned, his own release building quickly. His thrusts fell out of rhythm and as your body started to come down, he found his end. Pounding into you in a few quick thrusts, he came, and you could feel his hot spend filling you up and seeping out of you on to the couch.

Normally, you would have stay connected for a little while longer, but Frankie’s exertion in combination with the added weight he carried with his big dinner left him needing to sit down. When he pulled out of you, you let out a soft whimper and reached for him.

“I know, princess… I know… I’m sorry… I gotta sit down…”, he panted, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it before sitting back heavily in his spot at the end of the couch. He placed his hand on your ankle and rubbed gently.

You sat up, now keenly aware of the mess under you, and crawled to his side, snuggling in. You rubbed his belly gently; he was still feeling quite full, and you knew he needed to let it settle.

The faded red t-shirt was still pulled tight across his chest, and you slipped your finger under the rolled up hem, feeling almost no give.

“How did you manage to get this on?”, you asked quietly with a smile.

Frankie wiped his forehead and chuckled. “It wasn’t easy… and I can’t imagine getting it off will be either.”

Your phone vibrated, alerting you to a text, and then a few more in rapid succession. You sat up, scanning the room and finally found your phone on the floor next to the couch. Picking it up, you unlocked it and saw your group chat with Benny, Santi, Frankie, Hannah and Will was busy reacting to something. You scrolled up in the chat and saw that Frankie had sent the comparison picture of him holding his old photo to the group from your phone.

“Frankie!”, you gasped, and he laughed beside you, reading the comments.

“Holy fuck Fish!😲😂” - Santi “Yeah… I guess Mouse is a good cook 🤣 ” - Hannah "Breaking news! Relationship weight gain is not a myth!” - Benny “MOUSE. WFT.” - Will

--------<3---------

Image drawn by @yahtiwakitakos

TAGLIST:

@theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @blackfemalenerd @toxicanonymity @southernbe @starkeydaviss @patti7dc

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal tummy #frankie morales #triple frontier #you ask beefro answers #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #chubby frankie rights !!!!!#you ask beefro answers #thot tank #friend of beefro #the catfish & the mouse one shot #the catfish & the mouse #the catfish & the mouse #🥩#beefro's bistro #i smell like beeeeeef

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pedroscurls · 9 months

Text

Third Time’s A Charm (Part 16).

Character(s): Frankie “Catfish” Morales, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Victoria, and Reader (female, second person POV) Summary: Frankie finally confronts Victoria. Word Count: 2,533 Author's Note: This chapter is mainly just Frankie’s POV because I wanted to focus more on Frankie’s side of things. Thanks for reading. We got one more chapter and an epilogue left... Stay tuned! Warning: language (cursing)

Frankie was quiet the entire drive to the house he used to share with Victoria. He couldn’t believe that an entire year without you was not because you wanted to keep your distance, but because the woman he decided to marry had threatened you. He was furious, filled with so much anger and frustration that at first, he was taking it out on Santiago and on you.

But as he settled with his own thoughts, though, Frankie had begun to understand why you hadn’t fought for him, for your friendship with the rest of the guys. Santiago was right; you were always the type of person to put everyone else before yourself.

As he drove, Frankie’s mind drifted for a moment. He was so caught up in his own emotions, in his own hurt, that he was regretting not asking you to just stay home. Instead, he let you leave, let you walk out – upset too – and while he wanted so badly to go after you, he knew that he had to speak with Victoria first.

Frankie knew that he could handle speaking with Victoria alone, but having Santiago there with him would help keep him grounded. The last time he had spoken with Victoria, she had said some hurtful things that got in his head, but he didn’t want to give her that power anymore. Frankie rarely had regrets, but one of them was marrying Victoria. It was a habit that Frankie had: use something – or someone – else to help him forget the reality of his current situation. When he didn’t want to deal with his nightmares, with the negative and nagging thoughts that haunted him, he turned to alcohol, to cocaine; and when he didn’t want to deal with the fact that you were in California and you were no longer together, he decided instead to get married.

And with each distraction, it never really helped Frankie in a way he thought it was supposed to.

“You okay?” Santiago asked, pulling Frankie out of his thoughts.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“You know what you’re going to say?”

“I’ve got some idea,” Frankie answered. “But I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to talk to her without yelling.”

Santiago sighed. “Yelling wouldn’t be the worst thing…”

“I know,” Frankie said with a sigh. “And with everything that happened, everything that she’s said…”

“She deserves it,” Santiago finished. “You won’t be a bad guy for standing up to someone who is manipulative, hateful–”

“I get it,” Frankie interrupted. “I just wish I could have seen it. She was never like this when we first got together.”

“People tend to hide their true selves, Fish.”

Frankie knew that all too well. He wasn’t transparent with Victoria with his nightmares, his PTSD, his past use of cocaine, but there was one main difference between him and Victoria: Frankie always tried to be better; he knew that he needed to get his act together, while Victoria had no accountability for her actions. To her, she didn’t see anything wrong with what she had said, what she had threatened you with.

“I should’ve gone to California,” Frankie admitted. “I should’ve–”

“You can’t go back and change the past, Fish,” Santiago interrupted. “Things were meant to happen the way it was supposed to.”

Frankie nodded, pulling up to the driveway of the house. He let out a shaky breath and put his truck in park, looking over at Santiago.

“Wish me luck?”

Santiago chuckled. “You don’t need luck, hermano. Just remember what Benny said… You have the one person that matters and she’s gonna be waiting for you when we get back.”

Frankie smiled to himself, reaching over to clasp a hand over Santiago’s shoulder. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m just gonna say my piece and then we can head home.”

“If you aren’t out of there in fifteen minutes, I’m coming in to get you.”

Frankie shook his head. “I’ll be okay.” He climbed out of the truck and walked towards the front door, deciding to ring the doorbell and knock instead of allowing himself inside.

A couple of seconds passed when the door opened and Victoria looked at him with a shocked expression. Immediately, she bit her lower lip and gripped the doorframe.

“Frankie…”

“Can we talk?” He asked, motioning towards the inside of the house.

“Sure, yeah,” she replied, opening the door further and allowing him inside. Frankie stepped inside and remained standing in the middle of the living room. He moved his hands to his pockets as he looked around, so many distant memories flashing in his mind. He had been happy with Victoria in the beginning, but when you had come back from California, Frankie knew that Victoria (or any other woman for that matter) would never come close to you.

When Frankie heard the door shut, he looked over at Victoria and stared at her with a tight jaw.

“Is there something you wanna tell me?” he asked.

Victoria furrowed her brow, her arms crossing over her chest. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Frankie sighed. “Come on, Vic.”

“What, Frankie?”

“Why would you even threaten her in the first place? Do you know how goddamn selfish that is?”

Victoria tightened her jaw, looking at him with narrowed eyes. “Oh, so she told you?”

“No, Pope did.”

She rolled her eyes. “You were my husband, Frankie. Mine.”

“And she was around long before you came into the picture, Victoria. You knew about her and you were okay with it, you said you were–”

“Are you fucking stupid, Frankie?!” she exclaimed. “Anyone with eyes could see how much you still loved her, so yes, I told her to stay away from you and from the guys because you were my husband and they were your friends.”

“She had nothing,” Frankie replied. “That entire year she was– She was alone because of you!”

“Oh please,” Victoria rolled her eyes. “I know she’s been with other guys and–”

“Don’t,” Frankie interrupted. “This last year was fucking hell because of you,” he spat. “I know I have a lot of baggage, a lot of shit that I don’t deal with, but she– she was my best friend and I needed her.”

“I needed you!” Victoria yelled, tears stinging her eyes. “I was here and–”

“Stop lying!” Frankie shouted. “I tried! I tried to come to you, to talk to you about things that didn’t come easy for me, to open up to you, and you didn’t want to hear it. You told me to get over it, Vic! You pushed me over the fucking edge!”

“You’re a goddamn addict, Frankie! Take accountability of that and–”

“Accountability?” Frankie interrupted. “I know I’m a fucking addict! I’m trying, I’m doing the best that I can and I have been sober for months now and it’s easier because I’m with her, because when I have bad days, she’s there to tell me that it’ll be okay, that no matter what happens, she isn’t going anywhere.”

Victoria was seething, tears falling from her eyes, but Frankie was looking at her like she no longer mattered. There was no ounce of sympathy and the eyes that she had once fallen in love with were now filled with anger and… and hate.

“Frankie–”

“No, it’s my turn to talk,” Frankie interrupted. He took a deep breath and grabbed his wedding ring from the pocket in his jeans. He set it on the coffee table and looked at her with clear disappointment in his features. “We are done. You stay away from me, from her, from the guys… You’ve done enough damage and you’ve hurt her enough.”

“Frankie–” she whispered, reaching out for him. “P– Please, I–”

“She lost her job today because of you, but you know what?” he said, looking directly at Victoria. “She’ll bounce back because despite the shit you put her through, the shit you said… She still hadn’t said anything bad about you when she has every fucking right to.” He shook his head and began walking towards the front door. “She’s a good person, Vic, but you? You’re a fucking conniving, manipulative bitch.”

Victoria cleared her throat and looked at Frankie, walking over to him and shoving him. “F– Fuck you, Frankie!” she yelled, her fists coming down hard on his chest and Frankie bit his lower lip, grabbing her wrist and gently pushing her away.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he spat. “I’ll have one of the guys get the rest of my things, but from now on, we only communicate through our lawyers.”

“Frankie, I’m sorry! I’m–”

“Yeah right,” he interrupted. “You’re just sorry that you got caught.” Frankie turned around and opened the front door, glancing over his shoulder at Victoria who was now a crying mess.

“Frankie…”

“I really do wish you the best, Vic,” Frankie sighed. “But you crossed a line and I’m never going to forgive you.”

“Please–” Victoria pleaded.

“We are done,” he said sternly. “Goodbye, Vic.”

“Is she worth it?” Victoria asked, biting her lower lip.

The corner of his lips lifted upwards as his mind drifted to you. “Absolutely.”

—

Frankie and Santiago were now making their way back to your apartment and Frankie felt the heaviness that he seemed to be carrying for the past couple of years finally lifted from his shoulders. He felt free, at peace, and ready to move forward with you.

“Did you say what you needed to say?” Santiago asked.

“Yeah,” Frankie nodded, his eyes focused on the road ahead of him. “I’m ready to start my life with her,” he admitted.

“I’m proud of you, Fish,” Santiago said. “I know that wasn’t easy.”

“It was like Tom said,” he said with a sad smile. “No matter what happened, someone was going to get hurt.”

“He was always the wise one, wasn’t he?”

Frankie chuckled. “I’d say he had his moments.”

“You know what you’re gonna say to her when we get back? Benny and Will said she’s home now.”

Frankie shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said honestly.

“Maybe start with an apology?” Santiago laughed.

“Very funny,” Frankie smiled, gently shoving Santiago with his free hand. “I still can’t believe it, Pope… Of all the things I’ve done in this life, what did I do to deserve her?”

“Whatever it is, can you let me know? I’d love to have a Mrs. Santiago Garcia soon,” he teased, looking over at Frankie. “I knew when I introduced the both of you that it was going to work out,” Santiago continued. “You’re both what each other needed.”

“Oh, right, you? Settle down?” Frankie chuckled. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” As he pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex, Frankie put his truck in park and looked over at Santiago. “Thank you, Pope… You know, for bringing her into my life.”

“She’s a good one, Fish, and we’ve all been rooting for the both of you.”

He nodded to himself. “Let’s head inside. I miss my girl.”

Frankie and Santiago climbed out of the truck and walked to the front door, unlocking it slowly. Once inside, Frankie saw you sitting on the couch with your legs underneath you while you were holding a slice of pizza. When his eyes met yours, though, Frankie bit his lower lip and set his keys down on the dining table. He removed his hat and ran a hand through his curls before he walked further into the living room.

Then, he saw you set your food down followed by you wiping your hands on a nearby napkin and suddenly, you sprang to your feet and ran in his direction, jumping into his arms. Frankie caught you immediately, his arms snaking around you as he felt your legs hook around his waist and your arms moving around his shoulders. He felt you bury your head against his neck as you held onto him in a tight embrace.

“Hey, hermosa,” he whispered, moving to bury his face against you as well.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you and–”

“I love you,” he interrupted. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m the one that’s sorry.” Frankie sighed against you, pulling back to look up at you as he held you up in his arms, your legs still wrapped around his waist. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. I’m sorry that I didn’t ask you to stay. I’m sorry that I–”

Frankie’s words were cut off when he felt you lean in to press your lips against his. He melted into you immediately, forgetting that Santiago, Will, and Benny were still in the apartment. One arm remained around your waist while the other moved to cup the back of your neck, moving his lips expertly with yours.

But when you let out a quiet moan, Santiago, Benny, and Will were the ones to break you both out of the heated kiss.

“We’re still here!” Benny said with a chuckle.

You blushed and untangled your legs from Frankie’s waist, hopping back onto your feet. Frankie looked down at you, running his fingertips along your back as he pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated quietly.

“Okay, can I eat?” Santiago smiled, interrupting. “I’m hungry and–”

“Yes, Pope,” Frankie replied, keeping his eyes focused on you.

“Just heat it up. It got cold,” you added.

Benny and Will joined Santiago in the kitchen, leaving you and Frankie (finally) alone in your living room.

“You okay?” Frankie asked. “I should’ve asked you that earlier…”

“I was upset,” you answered honestly. “Upset because I lost a job that I worked really hard for. Upset that you and the guys were angry. Upset with myself because you’re right, I should have fought and I didn’t and–”

Frankie shook his head. “But that isn’t who you are,” he interrupted. “And I love you for who you are. You’ve got such a big heart, hermosa…”

“And it’s all yours,” you smiled. “But I’ll find another job, Frankie.”

“You worked so hard for it, though, and–”

“Yeah, losing my job sucks, but as long as I’ve still got you, Frankie, that’s all that matters to me.”

Frankie sighed contentedly, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame. “I want everything with you, hermosa. I don’t want to waste anymore time.”

“Frankie…” you whispered.

“You’re all that I’ve ever wanted,” Frankie admitted. “And I’m gonna ask you to marr-”

“You guys want pizza?!” Benny interrupted. “I can save you a couple of slices, Fish.”

You and Frankie were staring at each other with a small smile, letting out a quiet chuckle.

“When that does happen,” you whispered, referring to what Frankie was about to say before Benny interrupted him. “My answer will be yes.”

Frankie grinned. “Benny likes to find just the right moments to interrupt, doesn’t he?”

You smiled, looking over at Santiago, Benny, and Will laughing in the kitchen. “Yeah… Yeah, he does. Come on, let’s eat.”

Frankie’s arms wrapped around you from behind, allowing you to lead him to the kitchen. He leaned down and kissed the crown of your head; he was content, happy, and especially hopeful for what was to come.

---

Part 17.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed, @tanzthompson, @casa-boiardi. @bitchwitch1981. @painitemoondust, @pedritosdarling, @vanemando15, @kittenlittle24, @gracie7209, @your-voice-is-mellifluous, @mikeyswifie

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raleighcarreras · 1 year

Text

perfectus

Part 2: the city broke my heart

Pairing(s): wanda maximoff x black!fem!reader

Rating: M (language)

Wrd Cnt: 1k

Warning(s): none

Part(s): 1

Notes: The song is HAZE by 5SOS, someone asked to be tagged and I probably should have responded directly to them, but just letting you guys know, I don't do tag lists because I find them a bit clunky. Sorry about that!

Got me feelin' alright when the feeling's all gone. Got me feelin' uptight every moment you're gone. Got a piece of your mind and I'm gonna hold on. It's a hell of a ride...lovin' you.

Wanda's eyes rolled at the sound of your phone dinging with another Tinder, Hinge, and/or, Bumble notification.

She of course agreed to help you out on this frivolous journey, but that didn't mean she had to pretend to enjoy every second of it.

Especially, when you guys were supposed to be having your once a week roomie time.

You had only made those profiles 2 hours beforehand and you already had like 40 matches on each app.

Wanda knew you were desirable, she had told you as much, but damn, there was not a doubt in her head that this wouldn't make your ego borderline unbearable.

With your head in her lap, Wanda could feel you staring up at her to see if she had noticed the dinging as well.

The two of you were supposed to be paying attention to the cheesy little Christmas movie Under The Christmas Tree that Wanda had found on Hulu.

Instead, you were watching each other.

"Wan-"

She paused the movie, "Check your phone."

You shrieked in happiness and scrambled for your phone that was seconds away from buzzing right off the table.

You sat up so the both of you had a good view of your phone screen.

"Loser."

"What!? You haven't even read his bio yet, Wanda."

Wanda shrugged, "I don't need to, I can see his face. And his face says 'Hello, I am a loser and my bio will only prove that fact'."

You grumbled something unintelligible. Peaking at his bio, did only enhance the fact that he was indeed a loser, but Wanda didn't need to know that.

You tried to reject his like as subtly as possible. But, Wanda, ever vigilant, snickered under her breath.

"Told you."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, how about her? She's hot, and we have a lot in common."

Wanda eyed the profile with scrutiny, "Uh-Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"She looks like me."

You frowned and eyed the various pictures of the woman, "...No, she doesn't."

"Yes she does. Wait a minute. That is me!" Wanda grabbed the phone from your hand with a horrified huff.

"I've never seen these pictures of you before." You said slightly concerned.

"That's because they're from when I still lived in Sokovia...PIETRO!"

You grabbed your phone from her when she went to pick her own up. Undoubtedly, about to make a very heated phone call to her twin brother.

You squinted at the pictures again, sneakily saving a couple, "You should dye your head red again."

Wanda seemed to barely hear you as she angrily waited for Pietro to answer the phone.

When he did, Wanda immediately started speaking in Sokovian. You could hear him howling with laughter through the receiver.

"Why are you catfishing people as me, you little shit?"

Pietro hummed, "I'm not catfishing people as you, I was catfishing Y/N as you. She is not random people, she is our Y/N. There's a difference."

Wanda rolled her eyes, you only shrugged with a smile, starting to see the humor in the situation as well.

"This isn't funny."

"It is sorta funny, Wands."

"No, it isn't."

Wanda could practically hear Pietro's smirk through the phone when he spoke, "Yes, it is, Wands.

"You two are insufferable."

"I wasn't going to start an entire relationship like on that show. Once we matched I was just going to say 'it is me your best friend Pietro and my sister lik-'" Wanda hung up the phone, her cheeks tinged pink.

"Ha. Such a jokester, that one..."

"He just likes the attention. You know that."

Wanda only nodded along absentmindedly.

You continued to scroll and swipe on your phone.

Eventually, you put the phone down and gestured for Wanda to unpause the movie.

"When's your next shift at the bar?" You asked suddenly.

Wanda smiled, "I own the place. I don't have shifts."

"Well, when are you going in?"

"Hmm, probably around 7 tomorrow night. Why do you ask?"

"No, reason. I was just wondering."

Wanda didn't believe you, but didn't say anything otherwise. If only because the movie was starting to get exceptionally corny and good.

Wanda found out why you. asked her schedule at exactly 7 pm the next evening.

You walked in, taking your coveted spot at the bar counter. Though, you were dressed far less casually then you were when you normally came in.

"What are you doing here?" Wanda asked, sliding you your go to vodka cranberry as if it was second nature.

Then, a hand placed itself softly on your shoulder, "Are you Y/N?"

Why would you touch someone without being sure of who they were first? Wanda followed the offending appendage all the way up to its owner's smug face. She knew that stupid, dumb face anywhere.

"Maria Hill." Wanda muttered with as much disdain as she could muster under her breath.

You stood, with a friendly smile, "That's me. Nice to meet you, Maria."

Maria leaned in for a hug.

Wanda's eye twitched. Maria was going to be charged extra for all of your drinks now.

You expertly dodged it with a handshake instead.

Wanda smiled. Your drinks were free again like they always were.

Maria ordered then excused herself to the restroom breifly.

You and Wanda both turned to each other in unison.

"Why didn't you tell me you had a date here?"

You bit your lip. Wanda wanted that to stop immediately.

"Because I knew you would say 'No' and I need your help to gauge if she's normal or not. You said yourself I tend to pick losers."

Wanda very much regretted saying that.

"She's not normal. I hate her."

You frowned in palpable disappointment, "Why?"

Wanda didn't have a very good answer. Or at least not one that she was ready to give away yet. Part of the reason she disliked Maria was because the woman was sort of like her business rival of sorts.

Maria owned the flower shop across the street and because the both of their establishment's names started with the same letter it meant they often fought for space at the local flea market where Wanda gave away samples.

Maria always got the better, bigger space. And it was mostly because Wanda couldn't wake up earlier than 8am no matter how hard she tried. But that was beside the point.

The other part of the reason Wanda hated Maria was because Maria apparently liked you.

Wanda gaped a few more seconds before answering, "Because um she owns a flower shop and she didn't bring you any flowers."

"Oh." You said quietly. You had noticed that too, "But it's just drinks. Barely a first date or anything."

Wanda shook her head, "You deserve flowers no matter the occasion."

"Thank you, Wanda." You said softly. A slight heat to your cheeks, that wasn't really noticeable.

Maria sat back down next to you, "Sorry about that. I came straight from the shop and wanted to make sure there weren't any thorns hiding anywhere."

"I understand."

Wanda handed Maria her drink. The most expensive bottle of scotch Wanda owned. Not only did she wake up at ungodly hours of the morning, she was also...rich...or something. And she had a stupid face!

Wanda moved to the other side of the bar so she didn't have to deal with that. Checking occasionally to make sure you didn't need saving.

After what felt like hours, Maria finally vacated the premises and you stayed in your seat. Scrolling through your phone.

"How'd it go?"

You shrugged, "Alright, I guess. But I couldn't stop thinking about what you said."

Wanda grimaced, "I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's okay, you were right. She talked about herself the whole time. And she didn't get all the dirt from under he nails. She also said your scotch was bad."

Wanda gasped, "That bitch!"

You laughed loudly, "Yeah, safe to say I will not be seeing her again."

Wanda resisted the urge to celebrate.

"So, does that mean you're done with this whole scheme then?"

You looked and Wanda and laughed again, "After one bad date? Of course not. I've already got another one for tomorrow."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, see you here again tommorow, Hot Stuff."

Wanda could only stand there with her mouth agape.

She was starting to think that Natasha and Sam were right.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel female reader insert #jessicas fanfic #perfectus

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