#young frankie catfish morales

[wardenparker]

Flyboy

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x female Reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Extremely Explicit! Word Count: 12k Warnings: Alcohol, gold medal flirting, cocky young Frankie should have a warning all his own, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, masturbation, tits, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, protected sex, somnophilia (roleplay? technically? I dunno). Summary: Out to celebrate with your coworkers, you have a random encounter with a handsome Army pilot and decide to take a chance. Notes: ✨💖🎈Last week I passed the unbelievable milestone of 1.5k followers and I just absolutely cannot thank all of you lovely folx enough!! Well over a THOUSAND of you have joined me since I became a part of the Pedro fandom a little over a year ago and I am just continually floored by the amazing response you’ve all had to not only my work alone but my collaborations with Keri. Being able to come to this little corner of the internet and share my words with all of you has been a gift of magnitude that I cannot begin to explain properly. You have my gratitude, dear readers and followers, and I hope to continue to be silly in this corner of the internet with you for a long time to come.🎈💖✨

✈ I know the gif is from Hermanas, but I chose it because this is baby Frankie!  ✈

The party had started with noon beers at your coworker's college graduation party. When it turned into afternoon sangria and then evening margaritas, the group of merrily celebrating coworkers had begun to dwindle a few at a time. Somebody's spouse came to whisk them off to dinner from the bar. A significant other joined the group for one drink and they both left together by the next. One of the older members of the group threw in the towel when she ran out of cigarettes, calling it her signal from the universe that her night was over. Another got called away by a different group of friends. Now it's just three of you left, bellied up to a high-top table in a dive bar with busy pool tables and a karaoke contest going on. The basket of popcorn on the table between you keeps you thirsty enough to brave the commotion to grab another rum and Coke, even as your two friends are giggling over the group of flyboys that are conquering the pool tables. "Who wants another?" You ask above the music, pointing to your friends' dwindling glasses.

Nights out on the town were sacred. The reward for surviving the instructors all week and not killing anyone as they learned control of the Bell UH-1 Iroquois, otherwise known as the Huey. “Yo Fish!” Frankie huffs, looking up from the table where he is positioned for his shot, knowing that the cocky motherfucker was just trying to distract him from his shot. He lands the next ball in the corner pocket and Smith owes him a hundred bucks. “It’s your turn to by rounds man!”

“In a hundred bucks!” He yells back, shaking his head. He turns back to the table, leaning down and calculating angles before he pushes the chalked-up cue forward to strike the cue ball into the striped three ball, pushing it into the corner pocket he had called earlier.

There's good natured hollering and jeering as you head toward the bar to grab another round for your friends as the flyboys give one of their own a hard time about something, and their inevitable good mood means it's going to take longer to squeeze past the pool tables to get to the bar. "Civilian coming through, boys. Make room!" You joke, trying to get them to move just enough to give you a tiny path through.

Rivera might be one of the best in the class, second only to Frankie, but he was a clumsy son of a bitch. It’s pure dumb luck that Frankie turns right as Rivera jumps back, his exuberant cheering causing him to back into the pretty woman that is edging her way through the sea of Army pilots in training. “Fuck!” Leaping forward, he manages to push past the overgrown child to catch her before she falls flat on her unstable - and cute - butt.

"You guys are really taking that whole sweep a girl off her feet thing seriously these days, I see." The one guy in the bunch with fast enough reflexes to keep you from hitting the ground is broad and strong, towering over you as he lifts you back up to your feet as easily as you snatched a falling piece of popcorn out of the air earlier. "Thanks, flyboy."

Frankie grins, quick and sharp, liking the way you punned your rescue. “Not but the best for damsels in distress.” He tells you with a wink. “But I’ll let you buy me a drink to thank me.” He’s teasing, knowing full well he won’t let you buy him a drink, although he would buy you one if you’ll let him.

"Hmmm." Pretending to consider him, you give the dimpled, smirking pilot a long look up and down before you nod. It's been a long day of carousing with people you're sort of half-friends with, and you could use a few minutes of getting hit on to revitalize your enthusiasm for the night before you go back to them. "Alright," you agree, aiming a smirk of your own right at him. "But just you, not the round you're supposed to be buying for all your buddies."

Chuckling, Frankie turns around and shoves the hundred dollar bill he had just taken off Smith back into the man’s hand. “There you go boys.” He crows. “Rounds on me and I’ll win another round some other time.” He tells him, knowing that Smith will beckon the pretty red headed waitress over to order some more beers and shots.

"So what's your poison, flyboy?" Having lived in this town for years, the tales of the Army pilots scouring their favourite dives for local girls to entertain for a night - or sometimes a whole weekend if the story gets embellished - are plentiful and entertaining. It's not the first time you've had run ins with them, if you could call this a run in, but it's the first time you've seen this particular guy and he is extremely easy on the eyes. Sidling up to the crowded bar together, you can feel the heat rolling off him in waves beside you. Like a summer night but in human form.

Frankie smirks, enjoying the nickname, even if ‘Morales’ is clearly marked on his uniform with a neat name bar. “Francisco, but you can call me Frankie or ‘Cat’ if you want.” He tells you. “What’s your name? I didn’t quite catch it when I was catching you.”

“I must have forgotten my manners with the lack of gravity,” you joke, giving him an amused smile before you tell him your first name.

“Beautiful.” He gives you a small wink. “Just like you.” After casually dropping the compliment, he turns towards the bartender who’s just arrived. “Drinks on my tab.” He tells him before he looks back at you. “What’ll it be?”

“I thought I was buying?” The question doesn’t hang in the air for long because the bartender is swamped, and you shake your head at the pilot beside you. “Rum and Coke.” You tell the bartender after another second, and you fish a few bills out of your pocket. “And two more margaritas for the two girls at the corner table by the windows.” You’ll happily kill a little time with this flyboy, and the bar has plenty of capable waitresses who can deliver the round you promised to buy.

Frankie shakes his head and pushes your money back towards you. “I’ll get it.” He tells you before ordering his own, a beer since he was under strict order to not embarrass the Army by getting shitfaced.

“You don’t have to pay for my friends.” Offering him the bill instead, you roll your eyes when he gives you an ’are you serious?’ look and tuck the money back into your pocket. “Thanks, then. From what’s left of my squad. I know they’ll appreciate it.”

“Girls’ night out?” He asks, craning his neck to look over at the table where the other two girls are watching you with devious little grins on their faces. Frankie tilts his head up in acknowledgement but then his eyes fall back to you. “Not putting a damper on things, am I?”

“Not at all.” You give your friends a wave and lean on the bar a little more. “We had a coworker’s graduation party this afternoon and we’ve been bar hopping ever since. Started out with ten of us and we’re the last three.”

“Three musketeers of trouble, huh?” He grins, matching your stance and swipes at his bottom lip with his tongue. Habit more than trying to draw your attention to his lips, but he doesn’t miss your eyes following the movement. “So which one are you?”

“Porthos, obviously.” Alright, he might be the only man in uniform to ever flirt with you using literary references, so you’re going to go ahead and give him bonus points for that even if he’s only ever seen the movies. He’s far too hot to not get bonus points for something. “Always up for a good joke, a drink, a flirt, all that good stuff. Nothing’s ever serious until it’s deadly serious and by that time I’ve already thought of three puns to use while kicking somebody’s ass.” That might be giving yourself a tad too much credit, but what is flirting if not selling yourself? Good sales need embellishment sometimes, that’s all.

“Really?” He lifts a brow and chuckles, enjoying the easy banter between the two of you. While going out was always in the hopes of meeting a gorgeous lady to perhaps take home - or in his case, get her to take him home - it wasn’t a requisite for a good night. However, his prospects for not sleeping alone just got better. “Aramis is more my personality but instead of religion, it’s flying.” He jokes. “Or maybe flying is my religion.”

“Seductions, poetry, and unwavering loyalty.” Clicking your tongue, the shoulder shrug you give him is more animated than just a dismissive little gesture. “That’s a hell of a way to promote yourself.”

“Well, I don’t like to brag…” The playful banter is cut off by the bartender bringing the drinks over and he sets all four in front of you. “I’ll deliver the drinks to the table.” He offers, giving you the choice of ending the conversation or continuing.

“Sure.” You can agree to that, despite knowing that your coworkers will try to chat him up and either tell him a ridiculous story about you or - much more embarrassing - tell him how long it’s been since you dated anybody and tease him about taking you home. Not that that would be a particularly bad thing. Not this guy. At least he has a brain behind that smirk.

Frankie nods, picking up the two margaritas and turning around to deliver them to the table. Buoyed by the fact that you aren’t following behind him, and still leaning against the bar as he holds the drinks up carefully to keep from being jostled as he winds through the crowd. “Ladies.” He coos as he sets them down. “Margaritas, compliments of your lovely co-worker.”

“I told you she was gonna get hit on next.” Your younger coworker complains, clearly hoping she would have gotten that honour. “You’re sure these aren’t from you and your buddies over there?”

“Annie—” The other woman swats at the friend’s arm playfully and offers the man in front of them a smile. “Ignore her. Thank you for the delivery, handsome. Be good to our girl, okay?”

Frankie chuckles and looks over at the swarm of servicemen still crowding around the pool table. “I’ll tell you what?” He points over at Smith. “You go up to that tall, goofy looking motherfucker right there and tell him ‘Cat said to buy us a round’, I’ll bet you that he’ll hit on you.” He looks at Annie. “And the one with the glasses? He’ll hit on you.” He predicts, knowing they are very much the other men’s type. “But at least you’ll get a free round.”

“See how gallant he is?” The older of the two women laughs and picks up her drink from where he set it in front of her and even Annie has to smile in agreement. “She,” your coworker leans in closer to the pilot conspiratorially and points at you across the crowded bar. “Loves reading and live music, and is inhuman without her morning coffee so make sure you remember that tomorrow.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Frankie winks at them and turns back to see you watching the interaction with an amused smile on your face. His grin gets a little wider and he keeps his eyes on you as he makes his way back to the bar. “Mission success.”

“Did they give you any tips or tell you an embarrassing anecdote?” You fully expect that of the two who are left, especially if Annie was feeling grumpy about not being flirted with.

“Just that I am to provide you with coffee in the morning if I expect human interaction.” He teases with a grin. “Which…same.”

“That…” A laugh escapes you and you shrug before taking a sip of your drink. “Is totally fair, actually. I can’t even get righteous about it.”

“Although maybe I need to be a little righteous.” Frankie picks up his beer and takes a sip of it. “They made it seem like I’m easy.” He huffs, pretending to be offended. “Like it’s guaranteed I’m going home with you tonight.”

“They’re hoping for a little water cooler gossip.” The way your wave it off is meant to be silly and a little dismissive, like of course your work friends just want the dirty details.

He snickers, leaning in again and glancing down at your lips. “Yeah?” He asks. “Does my little musketeer kiss and tell?” He tsks playfully. “Naughty.”

You nearly snort at the nickname, but have to admit that it’s weirdly cute. “Sometimes,” you admit, not missing the way his gaze drops to your lips before raking back up to your eyes. “If the kiss is worth talking about.”

“Hmmmm.” He pretends to take a notebook out of his pocket, miming writing in his palm. “Make kiss worth it.” He murmurs to himself. “Got it.” Looking up he flashes you a smirk. “Where?” He asks, knowing the question will confuse you.

“Where?” Tilting your head slightly, you pick up your drink to take a sip. Despite drinking on and off all day, you’ve had plenty to eat and plenty of nonalcoholic drinks, so it’s the question that’s confusing you and not booze making your brain float.

“Where do I kiss you to make it tellable?” He purrs.

“I thought you were trying to sell me on you not being easy?” The corner of your mouth quirks up in a smirk. Normally cocky isn’t really your thing, but he’s playful about it and you have to appreciate the hell out of that.

“Shit.” He hisses, rolling his eyes at himself. “Failed again.” He takes another sip of his beer and looks over at the table again, grinning when your friends are walking towards the pool table. “Your friends said you like reading. What genre?”

“The Three Musketeers is actually one of my favourites, but…” This question is always an interesting one for you to handle, but for no reason other than throwing caution to the wind, you decide to just tell him the blatant truth and see what his reaction is. “But most of what I read is romance novels, actually.”

“Nora Roberts type books or Anita Blake?” He asks, raising a brow and waiting for his answer. “Or maybe a little of everything?”

“A little bit of everything.” He knows who Anita Blake is? Hiding your impressed expression behind another sip of your drink, you actually laugh a little. “Depends on my mood.”

“Completely understandable.” He can see you are curious about how he knows about romance novels, so he decides that he will let you in on a secret. “I grew up with three older sisters.” He tells you easily. “Swiped their romances novels a lot as a teenager to see what they were giggling over.”

That makes sense, and you nod in understanding. “And did you learn anything interesting from your sisters’ books?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs slightly, tucking his tongue in his cheek. “Hopefully so. I think so.” He sends you another wink. “Enough to get myself in trouble.”

“Good trouble, I hope.” If he’s read smutty novels then he might at least know how to find your clit, and that is another big bonus points.

“Cops have been called; noise complaints filed.” He admits with a grin. “That kind of trouble.”

“Not that a flyboy ever brags, right Aramis?” Noise complaints makes you smirk, knowing that your roommates have been ‘entertaining’ their own dates quite a bit lately and making a fucking racket in your apartment. A little payback might be fun.

“I didn’t know a sleep study was right next door.” He defends himself. “Besides, we weren’t even that loud.”

“A sleep study?” You burst out with a deep belly laugh, not expected that twist to the story at all. “Well shit, I hope they had good dreams after.”

“I tried my best.” He promises with, grinning at your laugh and tossing back the rest of his beer. Your own rum and Coke is looking low but he doesn’t know if you want another. “Want another? Or something else?” He asks, nodding towards your drink.

“Depends.” Shifting your weight from foot to foot, you deliberately lower your eyes to the gorgeous Cupid’s bow of his bottom lip before raising them again to meet his gaze. It’s not something you do - not often anyway. And it’s definitely early in the conversation to be bringing it up, but he’s…too good to pass up. “It’s cheaper to drink my own booze, if you want to give me something to talk about.”

He takes a minute to process it, checking your eyes to make sure you aren’t more intoxicated than you seem. When he sees that you are relatively sober, he nods. “If you’re sure?” He asks. “I’d love to talk with you.”

“You wanna tell your boys you’re leaving?” Most men probably wouldn’t bothering checking in with their guys, but you want to give him the option because you’ll definitely be sending his name in a text to your coworkers in case he didn’t introduce himself to them. A girl can never be too careful.

“Yeah.” He nods and looks over at the group that are now standing around the tables more than playing. “You can tell your girlfriends you’re leaving.” He flashes you a grin. “Make sure they know your name in case I end up missing, chained to your bed.” He quips. “I’d still be AWOL.”

“If you end up chained to my bed, it won’t be until after I know your safe word and any hard limits.” You tell him with the cool air of someone who actually has restraints on their bed. A four-poster bed and some scarves are the closest you come, but it’s fun to tease.

Frankie laughs, tossing his head back and letting it bark towards the ceiling. “God, we’re gonna have fun.” He predicts gleefully. His hand comes around you, resting on your back. “Come on Madame Dom. Let’s go make sure you’re safe and the assholes don’t look for me later on.”

“Pay your tab, flyboy.” He’s eager, and that makes you grin a little wider. “Or else it will be the bar looking for you and not your friends.” From your pocket, you pull out your phone and wave it slightly. “I’m gonna see if my roommates are home.”

“Shit, that’s right.” Frankie turns around and catches the bartender’s attention with his credit card. He can’t believe he almost forgot about his tab. The commander of the flight school would murder him if he had left a bill at a bar in town.

“All set?” His signature is down on the receipt as soon as the bartender puts it in front of him, and it looks like both of your roommates are out with dates tonight, so your end of things is all good. Thank god for that laundry spree you’d done a few days ago - clean sheets on the bed is something nice to look forward to even when you sleep alone.

“Yeah.” Frankie hands the guy a tip in cash and nods to him. “You want to say goodbye to your friends before we leave?”

“Probably should.” If you slip out without saying something, Annie will go from pouting to worried-little-sister mode in a heartbeat and start blowing up your phone nonstop. Which honestly is not such a bad trait to have in a friend that you occasionally bar hop with.

“I get it.” Frankie tells you. “You can’t be too careful.” His sisters had frequently called him when they went home with someone, baby brother would pick them up, but he was also protective of his sisters.

“Would you mind teaching the other men of the world that? Because they seem to think that our safety is emasculating then somehow.” You roll your eyes but smile, letting it turn into a grin when his friends make a roar of noise at your approach. It seems like this isn’t an all-too-unusual occurrence for your flyboy, but that doesn’t bother you. It’s not like you’re looking for a lifelong commitment here, just a little fun. “I’ll see you guys Monday,” You tell your friends, giving them both hugs. “Get home safe.” With a wink, you add. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Annie smirks, looking over at Frankie with a raised brow. “So, nothing?” She teases, only slightly jealous now that she’s flirting with the tall one like Frankie had predicted.

“Be nice or you won’t get details,” you laugh, giving them both a quick hug before stepping back to rejoin your new friend for the evening.

Frankie had already told the guys he would be back to base sometime, leaving it at that. “So, did you take a cab or drive?” He asks, knowing that he didn’t drive here tonight.

“Our driver got swooped up by her girlfriend an hour ago.” Phone already in hand, you can practically call for an Uber blindfolded with one finger in this town. Having so many bars and so many military men and women meant that on Saturday nights it was always easy to call for a ride. “The ride is only about ten minutes aaaand…it looks like our ride will be here in three.”

“Let’s get some air.” Frankie suggests, cover in hand as he guides you towards the door of the bar. He holds it open for you and as soon as he steps outside, he is placing it on his head, covering the military haircut and checking to make sure the cover is exactly aligned as it should be.

The night has turned cool, providing a little contrast to the scorching hot day and to the over-warmth of the crowded bar from so much body heat. It’s just enough to make you shiver once in your sundress and sigh happily. “Perfect night. Just cool enough to want someone nearby.”

“It is a nice night.” The two of you slowly stroll along the walkway in front of the bar, the noise muted behind its walls, only to blast out when the door swings open. “Although I did just realize something.”

“Oh yeah?” If you thought he was secretly a creep or married or something you never would have invited him to your place, so you doubt there’s about to be some big dramatic reveal, but he has a good sense of humor to go with that handsome face and has been good with pick up lines and such so far, so you just tilt your head at him and lean against the wall of the behind you. “What’s that?”

“Well, I think before you take me home…” He steps closer to you and his hand slowly reaches for your waist. “I think you should let me kiss you. To make sure you think it’s worth it.” He murmurs with a small smile on his lips as he looks into your eyes.

“Well, I think I’m worth going home with,” you tease, but you can feel your breathing shallow out a little at he presses into your space. Lord he really is exceptionally attractive, Aquiline nose and single dimple giving him a unique look that you can’t resist. “But why don’t you make sure you agree with me?”

He chuckles quietly, reaching up to hold your jaw between his thumb and index fingers, changing the angle slightly as he starts to lean in. “That mouth is gonna be trouble.” He murmurs before he presses his lips to yours, soft to start before leaning into it more.

Baby, you have no idea. The reply is right on the tip of your tongue, but he steals it away. It’s gone as soon as he spreads his fingers to cradle the line of your jaw in his large palm, replacing all of your senses with just him as you hum into the kiss.

Like anything good, Frankie firmly believes in getting a feel for it. Just like he’s doing as he kisses you. Slowly caressing your lips with his tongue and coaxing it open, allowing him inside. Heat will follow, rushed neediness would be there. For now, he wants to taste you, sampling the rum and Coke from your mouth and groaning when you give him a small whimper.

When you can think again, you’ll be congratulating yourself on what an excellent decision it was to take a chance on this flyboy, because if he’s half as dedicated to fucking you later as he is to kissing you right now, he might actually knock that one night stand from spring break two years ago right out of the top spot in your sexual history book. He tastes like beer and summertime and feels like even more of a wall than the one your back is pressed up against. One arm easily winds its way around his neck, your other hand finding his hip to draw him in closer. Body to body. That’s what you’re craving right now.

Frankie shuffles closer, enjoying the scent of your perfume and the softness of your lips, your body, as he presses you into the wall. Another swipe of his tongue, curling around yours expertly and humming deep in his throat when you moan again. It’s only because he senses a car pull up behind him does he pull away, staring at you as he straightens up. “I think that’s us.” He murmurs, throat slightly raspy with hunger.

“Huh?” There are no thoughts whatsoever in your head for a minute, until you blink heavily and his lips curl into a smirk and you realize you can see him better because a car’s high beams are pointed at you. “Oh. Right.” Nice job, dumb ass. “So am I worth going home with, then?” The tease is right back in place when you shake off the haze and reach for the Uber’s door.

“I knew that the moment you landed in my arms instead of on your ass.” He jokes. “Question is, am I worth taking home?”

“Get in the car, flyboy.” You tell him unequivocally, pulling the door open for both of you. “Or we’re walking.”

He chuckles, very pleased with your sass and throws the driver a grin. “Yes ma’am.” He might have copped a small feel of your ass as you climb into the car, but he was only trying to help you with your sundress.

Not the kind of person to be overly prim, you have no problem staying close to him in the back of the car as it pulls back out onto the main road toward home. The taste of his lingers deliciously, making you want to press your lips together to hold on to the sensation of having his on them. “It’s a quick drive,” you murmur out loud, though you have no idea if you’re telling him or reassuring yourself.

“That’s good.” Frankie shifts towards you, sliding his arm around your shoulders and his other hand settles on your knee. “It’s a good time to tells you how pretty you look.” He murmurs in your ear. Fingers tapping lightly on your skin.

Making out the back of a stranger’s car is bad manners, you remind yourself on repeat when his mouth hangs so near to you that you can almost taste him again. “Pretty enough to eat?” You joke. Well, half-joke.

Frankie knows he’s got you interested. He chuckles against your ear, shifting slightly and drags the hooked end of his nose up your cheek. “It’s a good thing I’m fucking hungry.” He rasps.

“Goddamn.” You could practically melt into this seat, and one of your hands grasps his thigh, nails biting in the material of his pants. “Good.”

His hand slides up, just a few inches. “Yeah?” He hums, making sure that his breath fans over your damp skin. “I can eat your pussy tonight?”

Carefully, your hand creeps higher in his leg to match his advance on you. “Gotta show me what you learned from all those books you snatched.”

His lips brush over the back of your jaw. “Also learned that women like to be seduced right?” His index finger starts drawing a little circle into your skin, working higher on your thigh. “It’s a big part of foreplay. Show them that you want them?”

“Mmhmm.” It’s nearly a whimper, and you nod against him. “Never gonna say no to that.”

“Good.” He slides his fingers up between your thighs, just a bare inch from your covered cunt. “Want to make sure your pussy is dripping when I finally slide inside.”

“Trust me.” When you shift to keep from squirming, your hand on his thigh grips just below the heft of his hardening cock and the side of your hand brushing against it makes you feel like you’re about to see stars despite the fact that he’s barely touched you yet. “That’s not going to be an issue.”

He chuckles again, turning his head when the car starts to slow down. “Are we almost home, beautiful?”

“The next building down.” It’s mostly for the driver, who started pulling up to the wrong apartment complex, but also for the man beside you. The apartment would be spacious for a couple or small family, so for you and your two roommates it’s just right. But you’re prepared to thank every lucky star in the universe that neither of them is home tonight.

Frankie reluctantly pulls away, knowing the two of you will need to get out of the car in order to make it into this apartment of yours. The driver finds the right building and pulls to a stop. He opens the door and steps out, waiting for you to see if you need help. "Thanks for the ride, man."

The car is gone into the night almost as soon as you let yourselves into the front door of the building, and the stairs are blessedly abandoned when you get inside. “It’s just the second floor,” you tell him, motioning to the stairs. “The elevator hasn’t worked in years.”

“That’s no problem.” He shoots you a grin. “There aren’t any elevators in the barracks. Even the officer’s barracks.”

"You boys just get wings on your boots, huh?" You throw him a grin as you head up the stairs in the cramped lobby. "Every bit of sky is yours for the taking."

He chuckles and has to refrain from taking the stairs two at a time. “I mean, yeah.” He huffs. “Nothing like it. Best fucking feeling ever being up there.”

"I think maybe I need to get my ass up in a plane, because I'm pretty sure sex still tops every flight I've ever taken." You meet him on the top step and easily slip your hand into his outstretched one. "Third door on the left, flyboy."

Frankie walks dutifully to the door with your hand in his and stands to the side. Understanding why you let go of his hand, but still pouting slightly as you dig your keys out of your purse. The place is dark when you push inside, and you drop your keys and purse on the side table next to the door as soon as you're through so you can reach for him again. "Home sweet home."

Frankie hums and looks around before he grins at you, wrapping his arms around your body. “Show me your room.”

"This way." There isn't a chance in hell that you're going to move out of his arms. Instead, you go in the complete opposite direction, slipping your arms around his shoulders and pressing your lips to every bit of skin along his neck that you can manage as you tug him toward your bedroom.

Groaning, he remembers to yank his cover off his head and crush it in his hand while he moves with you. Eager to get into that bedroom of yours. It’s been a few weeks since he’s gone home with a girl and he wants to strip you down and make both of you feel incredible.

"Is it some kind of weird treason if all this ends up on my floor?" As soon as the door is shut behind you, you're fumbling blindly for the buttons on his uniform, far too interested into diving into a hungry kiss to actually try to be graceful.

Laughing, he shakes his head and tosses the cover on the floor. “Not at all.” He tells you. “It’s considered patriotic to throw it on the floor.”

"I'm suddenly feeling the most patriotic I've ever been in my life." It feels like his entire uniform is made of buttons though, and your uncoordinated fingers stumble over the obstacles enough times that you pout against his lips. The last thing you want to do is stop kissing him, but you also want to know what he's hiding under all that fabric.

His hands come over yours, stopping you. "Why don't you let me do it?" He asks, smirking at your frustrated grunts and the pout you give him. "That way you can enjoy."

“Fine…” It’s with a deeply dramatic sigh and an immediately playful grin that you relinquish control, letting him take over the pace and exactly what pieces of his uniform will come off when. You kick your sandals off and don’t hesitate to pull your dress over your head, smirking when he is now the one pouting as you back up to climb into your bed.

"Damnit." He hisses, ripping off his blouse and immediately pulling his undershirt off to show off the lean planes of his body. Frankie isn't ripped, God no, but as a twenty-give year old Army officer, he is in pretty fucking decent shape. The shadows of abs was enough for him, he wasn't going to starve or dehydrate himself to fucking achieve that look. Besides, from the hungry look on your face, you don't mind at all.

He's fucking beautiful. Like mouthwateringly perfect, as far as your taste in men. He's broad and strong and his massive hands could probably wrap around your throat or your thighs with equal ease. If you weren't already laying back in a pile of your own pillows with your fingers mere inches from your soaking wet panties, you would already be on your knees in front of him. But the view from where you are is your own personal striptease and you are doing your goddamn best to memorize every detail for masturbation fuel in the future.

"Touch yourself." Frankie orders, voice rough as he starts to unbuckle his belt. He smirks at your surprised expression, and he nods towards your cunt. "You want to touch yourself, do it." He orders again. "Right here. Shove your hands into your panties and touch your swollen little clit for me."

"Fuck." That wasn't at all the response you expected to get from him and your hand dives into your panties faster than you can think and the way you moan at that first touch of your own fingers to your clit makes his eyes go impossibly darker with want.

"Goddamn baby." He hisses, quickly unhooking and unzipping the starched dress pants and dropping them down, kicking them and his shoes off at the same time and leaving him in the black socks and stark white boxers that do nothing to hide the erection that is currently tenting the material. "Feels good, doesn't it?" He coos, eyes fixated on your cloth covered core.

"Gonna be better when it's you." It doesn't take much to shift on the bed, dragging your panties aside with the hand that isn't knuckle deep in your own wet pussy. "Take it all off and get the fuck over here, flyboy. Wanna touch you."

He chuckles and smirks down at you, hooking his thumbs under his boxers. "Yes ma'am." He teases, pushing them down and stripping them off before he stands tall again and lets you get a good look at him fully nude.

"Goddamn, baby." Giving his own words right back to him, you tug your bottom lip between your teeth and groan as your eyes rake up and down the length of his body. You're squirming in place, hips rocking on your own fingers, while you take in the sight of his thick cock already beaded with precum just begging to split you open.

Winking cockily, Frankie knows that you are eager. Kneeling on the bed and wrapping his fingers around your ankle to tug it slightly closer. Pulling you towards him as he crawls up to join you. “Like something you see, pretty girl?”

"Have a feeling I'm gonna fuckin love something I see." Fuckin love or love fucking - both are entirely true. He brings you closer, making it easier for you to lean in and nip at his bottom lip. "Gonna let me ride that cock after you eat my pussy?"

His lips chase yours for another kiss while his cock bounces against your inner thigh. "After your legs are up on my shoulders and I make you cum all over my cock." He promises, nipping back at your lip playfully, loving the fact that you like to use your teeth.

"So many big plans." Pouring a groan into his mouth, you let the kiss turn hungry for a long moment. It's a gorgeous distraction for just as long as it takes to drag your fingers out of your own slick and wrap them around his length.

Grunting into your mouth, he twitches under your touch, enjoying the firm grip you have around him. His own hands reaching for your panties, tearing them in his eagerness to get to your cunt. The ripping of the fabric making him grunt again.

The feeling of that fabric ripping against your skin - the sound of it, too - makes you absolutely whimper into his needy kiss. “Fucking hell, baby. Touch me. Please.” You beg, blindly searching for his hands to push at least one of them towards where you need him most.

The next chuckle is dirty, bordering slightly mocking as he starts to kiss down your jaw and nips your pulse sharp enough to make you gasp. His fingers don't give in, instead he spreads them, cupping your bare cunt and covering it with his palm. "Is someone needy?" He coos, teasing you with a little lick at the hollow of your throat before biting your collar bone and moving down another few inches.

“I’ll wrap my fingers around your cock again and we’ll both be needy,” you shoot back, laughing despite how badly your body is singing with desire.

"Baby, I'm gonna be needy until I'm balls deep inside this tight, hot little pussy." He murmurs, smirking up at you before kitten lick the tip of one breast before he wraps his lips around it.

The way you keen is messy and needy in all the best ways, and your head falls back on the pillow behind you. The only nuisance is that he doesn’t have any hair to speak of for you to run your fingers through or grab onto, leaving you to rake your fingernails against the base of his skull encouragingly as you moan for him. He loves the way your nipple responds. Tightening under his tongue as he drags it over it. Scraping his teeth across the firm peak and sucking it back in his mouth to tease it some more. Groaning around it before he pulls off with a wet pop and switches over to the other.

If somebody were at home besides the two of you, they would already be pounding on the door in annoyance at how vocal the two of you are together. Every sound that comes out of him is heavenly sin - egging you on and encouraging you to meet his enthusiasm. Not that you need the help, already panting and moaning under him as though you'd been starved of intimacy for years.

Frankie nudges at your breast, pushing at it as he sucks, enjoying the way you whimper and scratch at his head. Trying to pull him closer and push him down to where you need him all at the same time. He loves a woman who’s responsive, who’s nearly feral for his touch.

He keeps at your tits until you’re nearly growling, and the low chuckle he gives before starting to trail his mouth southward again has you on the edge of sanity. He practically has you about to cum just sucking on your tits, you might melt into the bed once he finally sets that tongue to work on your cunt.

His tongue dips into your navel, showing you exactly what his plan for your aching little hole is. He flicks his tongue deep and laves around his generously, lips twisted upward when your legs lift and your heels dig into his shoulder blades.

“Go ahead and gloat, flyboy.” You’ve always been the kind of person to have a sense of humor about sex, and especially when it’s something like this. He has every right to feel good about how worked up he’s gotten you, and he’s clearly enjoying the affect he has on you. That’s all a part of pleasure, in your opinion.

He chuckles and bites at the swell of belly over your mound, scraping his still smooth cheeks against it before he slides down again. "Not gloating." He hums, winking at you. "Just enjoying myself." He turns his head and kisses one thigh and then turns his head the opposite direction to kiss the other. "I like a woman who's playful and needy in bed." He confesses before he flattens his tongue and makes the first pass over your clit.

“Fuck!” He takes you by surprise, and your head nearly hits the headboard when it drops back, making you giggle. When that giggle turns into another moan, your fingernails find his scalp again with ease. “H—hopefully loud, too. Shit, baby.”

He just is moaning into your cunt in answer, burrowing his tongue deeper as his vocalizations resonate into your skin. He loves how loud you are, wants you to be louder for him. To give him everything you've got and fall apart. His hands spread your thighs wider, letting him reach more of you with unabashed enthusiasm.

Every word out of your mouth is the highest praise, every sound is pure sin that spurs him on in his quest to bring you the most pleasure he possibly can. His tongue is just as good - maybe even better - on your weeping cunt as it was weaving sinful promises in your ear earlier and the Army needs to invent a medal for pussy eating right away.

You taste incredible. Tangy and musky, making. him lick and suck on your folds, nibble on the lip of your cunt and groan when he plunges his tongue into your velvety softness and lets it slide through the fresh slick leaking from you. Pushing your hips back, lifting your legs up off his back so he delves deeper and spear his tongue upside you to curl up.

That tingling sensation that rolls through your entire body, sparking nerves out to the very tips of your fingers and toes and taking any possible sense of restraint you had with it. The rambling, cursing, barely coherent warning you manage to eek out before you cum the first time is punctuated by a cry of his name - the first time you’ve actually used it all night – but he has absolutely earned the plaintive wail of “Fuck, Frankie!” When you fall apart for him.

Hearing you, feeling you start to cum just makes Frankie double down. His tongue flicking and his jaw aching but he continues to eat you like a starved man. Groaning into you while his hips shift subtly against the bed, grinding against it for friction while his mouth is flooded with your essence.

If it was destined to be a one-orgasm night, it would still be a really fucking excellent night. Fortunately for both of you it absolutely won't be - but the boneless way you fall back into your pillows again after having arched off the bed speaks to exactly how hard you just came for him. "Jesus fuckin Christ." An indulgent, filthy giggle bubbles up out of you when he doesn't let up right away. "You're gonna kill me, baby."

He chuckles, pulling away and giving your clit a few slow, lazy licks as he watches you recover. You’re gorgeous this way and he admires the way your tits rise and fall. Slapping the outside of your thigh, he raises a brow. “Want another before I fuck you?” He offers.

It's such a loaded question, because you desperately want to cum as many times as he'll let you, but you aren't the only person in this bed right now. "Still want to ride you, gorgeous. If I cum that hard again on your tongue, I might not be able to make my legs work afterward."

Frankie grunts a small gawf and nods, lifting up to his knees and sliding off the bed. “Let me get a condom out of my wallet, then.” He wanted to keep you safe as well as himself, grabbing the pants off the floor and fishing his wallet out. The shiny foil packet in hand, he gives you a triumphant grin.

"Love a man that shows up prepared." You grin at him, crooking one finger to beckon him back into your bed. Of course you have condoms stashed in your nightstand but it's nice to see someone else stepping up to the plate of responsibility.

“Boy Scout.” He quips and climbs back into the bed with you. “Now….” He puts the edge of the foil packet in his teeth and rips it open. “I think I promised you an orgasm with your legs up on my shoulders while you cum all over my cock.”

"Shoulders like those were made to be leg rests," you tell him with a grin, managing to steal a kiss after he's tossed the foil packet in the general direction of your trash can.

Frankie bites his lip, rolling the rubber down his length and pumping himself a few times before he caresses your legs. Pulling them up onto his shoulder and shuffling forward to slide the head of his cock through your folds. “Ready?”

"Shit yes." If it would do you any good to grasp at him or push closer, you would. But from this angle and with one of his big hands grasping your legs, all you can really do is squirm. "Come on, baby. Fill me up."

He teases your clit for another pass before he lined up, the head of his cock pushing against the soft entrance to your body and keeps his eyes on you while he slowly sinks in.

If you hadn’t been dripping wet from the second he kissed you, it definitely would been a pinch to take all of him, being as thick as he is. Now, though, Frankie is fully seated to the hilt in your hot cunt with almost nothing more than a lazy roll of his hips, making you whimper and moan under him happily as he shifts into the exact position he wants.

Frankie’s fingers stroke your legs gently, almost tenderly as he waits for your body to relax. Letting him lean down and fold your legs over as he stretches his jaw and manages to plant a tiny kiss on your lips. His dog tags hang around his neck, dangling between you. “Want to hear you.” He reminds you softly, before he abruptly pulls his hips back and slams back into your cunt.

Volume isn’t exactly a problem, but the way he pushes the breath out of your lungs on that second powerful thrust means it’s a strangled moan that pours from your lips instead of more teasing words. One of your hands grasps for his hip when he plows into you again and the other paws at your own tits, twisting your nipple with the perfect to almost be painful alongside the pleasure.

The steady, hard thwacks of his hips against your thighs fills the room, along with the gasps and groans from the two of you. You are fucking tight like this, squeezing his cock before your walls ever clench in pleasure. “F-f-fuuuuck.” He hisses, each syllable accompanying another swing of his hips.

“God — fuck — feel so good, baby.” If he wants to hear you, you’ll damn well make sure that what he’s hearing is complimentary and true. “So fucking deep, oh my god —”

“Yeah?” He pants out, keeping up the brutal pace and making sure that each thrust bottoms out. One hand reaches your and squeezes your tit. “Want more?”

“Every — oh fuck—” A particularly punishing thrust shoves you further up you bed and you have to reach up to keep from knocking your head against the headboard of your bed. “Everything you got, flyboy.”

Frankie flashes you a grin, wicked and promising. “Roger.” If you had thought he was giving you his all, you were sorely mistaken. His dog tags swing wildly and beat against his chest while he ramps up his pace.

If you had thought about anything besides how fucking good his cock feels shredding up inside you for just half a second, you would have realized that you were issuing an accidental challenge. Now you can’t do anything but hang on for the ride, so to speak, and throw both hands over your head to avoid banging your head, and give him every ounce of vocal encouragement that he is definitely earning.

He absorbs your sounds, greedy for each one. Even stretching down to kiss you again. Steadily pounding into you before he slides his hand down to thumb at your clit.

You might shake apart with the force of the orgasm you can feel building, but you will happily give in to it. The wave that crashes through you has you practically squealing, with his name as the only word to be understood in all the praises and rambling as you fall apart underneath him.

Frankie doesn’t fuck you through it. Instead he lets your legs slide down into the crooks of his elbows so he can hover closer. Breath mingling with yours while he slowly grinds himself into your grasping and fluttering little hole. “Good girl.” He coos. “Fuck, you feel so good baby.”

“So good.” With him this close you can grasp his dog tags like a collar and meet him halfway for a messy, enthusiastic kiss. “Can’t wait to hear how gorgeous you scream my name when you cum.”

His chuckle is low and raspy, making him stop moving and focus on kissing you, still buried in your cunt.

It’s tricky to do when he’s completely overwhelming your senses, but you rock your hips with his and tighten your legs at his sides to roll him into his back with a victorious grin. “Your turn to enjoy,” you promise him, nipping at his lips while you roll figure 8s on his lap with his cock deep inside you at a whole new angle.

“God.” He doesn’t know what to grab. Your hips, your tits, his hands are everywhere. Pinching your nipples and cupping the soft flesh, while watching, alternating between your tits, your face, and the tiny space where he can see his cock disappearing inside you.

“That’s it, baby.” You hum, tossing your head back to let your tits stand out as you start to rise and fall on his length. “Feels so fucking big like this.”

His feet dig into the downy comfort of your bed, bracing them so that his can jerk his hips up. Driving up into you from the bottom and push deeper when you sit back down on his cock. "You like it." He huffs, pushing your tits together and flicking the peaked tips.

“Fucking love it.” There’s no way you’re about to deny that, especially not with the perfect way he’s got his hands on you right now. Every time you bounce on his cock his hands squeeze your tits a little tighter, and each tweak of your aching nipples is fantastic.

"Good." He huffs, biting his lip and trying to control his body as it reacts to the drag of your cunt in this position. Despite you cumming already, he wants you to cum again. Needs to see it before he gives in to his own need. "Look so good riding my cock." He pants out. "So fucking good."

Each time he bottoms out inside you, you swirl your hips in his lap, rocking downward to give you more momentum to bounce up again, and the combination has both of you moaning and panting unashamedly. You can’t remember the last time it felt this good to have someone inside you, and to be honest you might be a little bummed in the morning when he takes off never to be seen again. But at least tonight is fucking amazing.

"Fuck." He slaps your tit lightly and lets go, gripping your hips and rocking up into you again. Watching your heavy-lidded eyes as they flutter and your own hands drift over your skin. You look fucking amazing on top of him, he wasn't lying about that. "Come on baby, cum again." He coos. "You know you want to."

“Want me to — oh god, squeeze that thick cock, baby?” That’s all the encouragement you need for your hand to drift down to your cunt, fingertips rubbing tight circles on your clit that make you cry out into the dark night.

“Fuuuuuuuuck.” He hisses, gritting his teeth when you start to squeeze him. Both hands on your hips while you freeze over him, body locked up in pleasure and he thrusts up into you wildly now. “Fuck, fuck, fuck baby.” He growls, staring at you while his own orgasm starts to build up. “Fuck, gonna cum.”

“Fuck yes, cum for me.” He’s going to look spectacular as he falls apart, you just know it, and the hand that isn’t rapidly stroking your swollen clit reaches down to rake your blunted fingernails down his chest.

Frankie shudders, shouting out and starts to cum. Gripping your hips in a bruising hold, he surges up into you one last time. Gasping and moaning your name while he spills into the condom.

“Fuck, Frankie!” The combination of sensations is too good, and another orgasm rips through you like wildfire. Shaking with it, your cunt clenches down in his length even harder, milking every last drop of cum from him until you feel like you’re about to black out from the pleasure. “Oh my fucking god. So good.” You whine, panting for breath as the aftershocks finally start to subside.

Frankie grunts, pulling you down against his chest while he slowly grinds up into you. Finally just throbbing inside you as he strokes your back. “Holy shit.” He pants, feeling euphoric and exhausted.

“Right?” You can’t help giggling, the ethereal feeling swimming in your body making you feel light as air as you reach to kiss him.

“Yeah.” He chuckles, looking up at the ceiling when you kiss his jaw and hum. “Aren’t you glad I caught you?” He teases playfully.

“Goddamn right I am.” You agree without hesitation and rest your head on his chest. “This was the perfect way to thank you for it.”

He can’t disagree with you. He lifts his head slightly, kissing the top of yours.

“You…do you…wanna stay?” Heavy sleepiness is quickly setting into your body, but you’ll fight to stay awake long enough to drive him back to wherever if that’s what he wants. You would just as soon wake up beside him in the morning and maybe go one more round before having to say goodbye to him.

“Yeah.” Frankie has zero desire to return to his room at the barracks. It didn’t matter that officer’s didn’t have to share; it was still a barracks room. He kisses your head again. “But I got get rid of this condom first.” He murmurs. “You got a trash can in here, or bathroom?”

“Next to the bed.” You vaguely point to your right - his left - where your nightstand is and sigh quietly, happy that the little bubble of perfection you found tonight won’t be bursting too soon.

He smirks when you refuse to peel yourself off of him for a few more moments. Finally huffing and lifting off his cock while he holds the base of the condom so he can roll over and take it off. He huffs, always hating this part of condoms, tying it off and taking one step to put it in the trash before he climbs back in the bed. “Now you can lay back on me.” He promises, dragging you closer again.

“You’re comfy.” And you aren’t the least bit ashamed to acknowledge that, cuddling up to his chest again like a clingy cat after he shuts off the light.

“Hmmm, good.” He doesn’t even deny that he likes the warmth of you on him. His hand strokes your back slowly as you settle and sighs softly. “‘Night, beautiful.”

“G’night, sexy.” The smile on your lips will last until morning without fail, and hopefully your dreams will just be a replay of what you did in this bed before passing out.

******

Being in the military means that no matter how much he drinks, how tired he is, come zero six hundred - he’s awake. He’s actually been awake for half an hour, watching you sleep, curled into his side. You have this cute little pout and he figures you will be mortified when you learn you drooled on him. Except now, he’s gotta pee and he’s about to die of thirst. Slowly shifting, he carefully moves you so that you don’t wake up, allowing him to slide out of the bed.

There’s movement in the kitchen, the smell of coffee and cinnamon wafting through the apartment, and quiet chatting that pauses temporarily when a door creaks open and shut. “You’re up early!” A voice calls out, with clear teasing lining the comment. “Figured you’d sleep in after the porno you lived last night.”

He’s glad that he swiped his boxers up and put them on. He hadn’t expected to run into your roommates this early, but he just gives a shrug of his shoulders. Shit like this happens every once in a while. Instead of hiding or slipping into the bathroom and going back to your room, Frankie walks into the kitchen. “She’s still asleep.”

“Oh!” The petite blonde clutching her coffee cup bursts out into an embarrassed giggle and so does the redhead with her. Their jaws are practically on the ground, though, and they give each other an impressed glance. “Uh…hi! Coffee?”

“I’d kill for some.” Frankie flashes them a grateful smile, not at all embarrassed to be standing in front of them with nothing but his boxers and his dog tags on. He had routinely showered with thirty other men and shit in stalls with no doors in OCS, this was a piece of cake. “And a cup for her?” He asks, stepping further into the kitchen. “I don’t know how she drinks it.”

“Black.” The red headed girl grabs two mugs from the cupboard and hands them off to the blonde to be filled. “So…you guys sounded like you had fun…” The two girls exchange smirks that are meant to cover looks of concern.

“She’s still alive.” He promises, smirking slightly as he watches the blonde pour the coffee. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“We’ll call you an Uber if it was just a one-night thing for you.” The blonde tells him matter-of-factly, as she sets two full coffee mugs down on the kitchen island. “She’s just…she’s been on the receiving end of a lot of bullshit lately, so if you’re not into her it’s easier if you just go.” The protective, sister-like energy is strong with these two, and it’s obvious they’re not trying to be rude. They just care about you.

If he’s irritated by the nosiness of the roommate, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he picks up a cup of coffee, the smaller one, and takes a sip. “Would be a shitty thing to do.” He comments are that first sip. “To just slink off. I’m not that kind of man.”

“Good.” That seems to mollify her, and she nods. “In that case the bathroom’s the next door on the right and there are cinnamon rolls about to come out of the oven.”

He grins and sends her a small wink, setting down the coffee. “Happy I passed the test.” He tells her. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll use the bathroom and then bring her that coffee.”

The second he’s gone, your roommates look at each other with what can only be described as awe, and stifle some shared laughter. “Oh my god she wasn’t kidding…he’s…gorgeous.”

Frankie uses the bathroom, washes his hands and comes back out to go back into the kitchen. The giggling stops again, and he just picks up the coffee mugs and throws them both a knowing smirk. “I would probably play some music or something.” He warns them with a wink before he trots back down the hallway.

“We’re leaving for work!” They call back, and he can hear the sound of a metal tray clanging on its way out of the oven as your bedroom door shuts behind him.

Frankie chuckles, seeing you starfished across the bed and he sets down the coffee cups on the dresser. It wasn’t something that the two of you had talked about, so he decides that waking you up with oral isn’t a good idea. Instead, he crawls back in the bed and manages to nudge you over so he can stretch out beside you.

“Mmmm…” From the edges of your fading dream, you can feel a hand stroke your back and you sigh right before your eyes open. “Morning…”

“Morning.” Frankie hums, keeping his hands solely on your back instead of drifting to other, more interesting places. “I have coffee for you.”

“Sexy and thoughtful.” You snuggle closer to him for a second before your eyes pop open in dismay. “My roommates came home last night, didn’t they?”

“Sorry.” Frankie winces, hearing your unhappy tone. Maybe you didn’t want them to know? Even if you had called from the bar. “I can get a ride and take off.”

“God, were they that bad?” Fully awake now, you tuck a blanket around your body and look up his frown with concern. “They just tend to get a little…protective. I was going to apologize if they said something rude when I wasn’t there to tell them to knock it off.” Of course, they were only that way because of the shitty luck you had had with guys you brought home, and you so very much don’t want Frankie to end up as just one more of those guys.

“No, they were fine.” He promises. “I just figured you weren’t too happy they knew you brought someone home.”

“No, no, nothing like that.” You shake your head adamantly. “I’m glad you’re here and I don’t give a fuck who knows it. The reason I asked them to give us privacy last night was so I could be as loud as I wanted without them giving me shit about keeping them up. Because they both work this morning. That’s all.”

“They said they’re leaving for work.” He hums, mollified that you don’t want him to leave. He leans in and drags his nose across your cheek. “So, we’ll be alone again.”

“Coffee can wait.” The decision comes with a deep hum, and you easily wrap your arm around his waist to drag him under the covers with you.

“Thought about waking you up with my tongue.” He confesses, kissing along your jaw. “But I didn’t know how you would react to that.”

“Next time.” He nudges you over onto your back and you nearly purr at the early morning affection. The offer is really just a hopeful one. Hopeful that this morning won’t be the least you see of him. “Next time, you definitely should.”

“Yeah?” He nibbles on your collar bone and hums happily. “I can do that.” He slides his hand down to slot between your thighs. “Could always pretend you are asleep right now.”

You grin, giggling a little as you immediately shut your eyes and slump back in your pillows dramatically. “Who’s pretending? I’m totally still asleep,” you tease.

“Good girl.” Frankie grins and ducks his head under the covers, moving his way quickly down your body and gently pries your legs apart like he’s trying not to wake you.

Two of your favorite words, but you don’t say a thing as he shifts you into the position he wants. Being woken up like this is one of those things that you never have asked for or suggested, especially because you have a track record of picking guys that don’t stick around for long.

“Fuck.” He groans quietly at the sight of your swollen and puffy lips, slick from the nights activities and fresh arousal coat your skin and he hums. “Someone’s have naughty dreams.” He teases quietly, bumping your clit with his nose before he kitten licks it softly.

You can’t help humming a little, letting the sound be something like a non-communal sleeping sound as best as you can. You had had very naughty dreams about all the things you wanted him to do to you - or you to him - and you’re already about to check one off the list. What’s not to love? He chuckles, kissing your lips and starts to softly press the flat of his tongue against your folds. Gently treating your cunt like it is the most delicate treat, completely opposite from his treatment of you last night.

A soft, indulgent sigh parts your lips and you swear you melt a little deeper into the mattress with pure relaxation. He's as gentle as a spring sunrise this morning and when you shift underneath him it's akin to the stretching of a lazy cat instead of the frantic, needy squirming of last night. His tongue flutters and softly flicks over your swollen folds, groaning slightly and urging your thighs open a little more. Still pleased with how well you are playing at being asleep as he gathers your clit in his mouth to suck softly.

Not wanting to ruin the game, you swallow a whimper and keep your eyes shut tight. As much as you want to hear him growl his approval at your fingernails on his scalp again, letting him enjoy and explore so gently is its own kind of beautiful.

This is everything that last night wasn’t and yet it doesn’t feel any less or more. It just feels like another layer of this time with you. The contrasts match so beautifully. He moans quietly, sliding his shoulder to the side so he can ease two fingers into you.

There's no way to mask this moan, or the way your hips lift off the bed ever so slightly to go along with the motion of his hands. If you weren't awake before you most certainly would be now, and the feeling of Frankie's thick fingers stretching you out so lazily is amazing.

He hums, pleased at your reaction and he pulls his lips away from your clit with a soft pop. “‘Morning.” He teases before he resumes his ministrations.

"Good--" As soon as he dives back in, the phrase is broken by a plaintive sigh. "Fuck, morning, baby." As frantic, needy, and desperate as the two of you were last night, this morning is nothing but lazy and indulgent and it is absolutely glorious.

He chuckles and curls his fingers up slowly, deliberately. “Want you to cum for me, again.” He murmurs, tracing his name into your cunt with his tongue.

"Yes – fuck – yes, sir." He's like an expert musician, plucking the strings of your pleasure to absolute perfection without really even needing to practice.

Frankie gets call ‘sir’. Due to his rank, he gets called sir at least a hundred times a day. But the way you say it has him moaning, his fingers sharpening their curl just a bit and the hand on your hip gets tighter, like the way that sounds coming out of your mouth.

“Oh fuck, that’s it, baby — gonna cum!” For as gentle as he has been, it’s still like a freight train. Rolling through every inch of your body with the same power that last night’s demanding pace had, except this time it almost makes you float. It’s like Frankie’s fingers and tongue are keeping you afloat in his very own ocean of pleasure and why in the hell would you ever want to be anywhere else.

He growls in pleasure. Happy that you are nearly bowing up off the bed in pleasure and he slowly works you through it. Wringing your body if every ounce of pleasure it can gleam from his tongue. “Fucking hell, Frankie,” you pant, grasping at breaths as he slowly lets you down again off the cloud-like pillow of bliss.

Chuckling, he kisses your clit one last time and crawls back up the bed to lay down beside you, throwing a leg over yours. “Good?”

“Good?” The incredulity in your voice is marked by a throaty laugh. “Yeah, flyboy. Extremely good.”

“Well, the old motto of the Army is ‘Be All That You Can Be’.” He jokes

“You’re doing amazing, baby.” You promise him with a chuckle. “When…um, when do you have to be back?” It’s a Sunday and you know fuck all about what an average day in the military is like, but all you really want to know is how much longer you’ll get to savor having him right here beside you.

“Flight training at zero five thirty on Monday. So, I can’t drink tonight.” He explains, thinking you might want to go back to the bar.

“That’s fine.” Tipping your head back so your chin rests on his chest, you crack a smile that warms through your whole body despite being nervous at the question. “Does that mean you might want to hang out today?” He could easily have told you he had plans or obligations, but he didn’t, and you can feel the hope swell in your chest.

He pauses for a moment before a slow smile slides across his face. “I think that would be fun.” He tells you, sliding his hands up and down your back. “Your roommates said there were cinnamon rolls, but we could always go get breakfast, swing by base and grab a set of civvies for me.”

“What are your feelings on shared showers?” The sparkle in his gorgeous brown eyes reads as delight and you can feel a rabble of butterflies erupt in your belly. “There’s a new diner on Main Street that I’ve been dying to try. My treat.”

He huffs and pokes his lip out at you. “Now my momma would beat me if I let a lady pay the morning after.” He tells you with a grin.

"You're gonna let me pay for something eventually." You tell him in a tone that brokers no protests, but the sunny grin on your face says it's not a serious matter in the least and you lean in just barely to kiss the pout off his perfect lips. "Is that a yes?"

“Maybe.” He concedes, with his own grin on his lips. “Why don’t we try to share that shower and then we will see where today takes us.” He offers, feeling like he is asking something more serious than just a day after a one-night stand.

Sitting up beside him in your own bed, with your sheets disheveled and his gorgeous face looking up at you from a pile of pillows, you reach out to brush your thumb along his jaw and smile harder than you possibly ever have in your life. "Wherever that is? I hope it's someplace worth talking about."

Frankie smirks, sending you a playful wink. “You’re with a flyboy.” He quips. “Of course, wherever it is will be cloud nine.”

______

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[just-here-for-the-moment]

Basic Training - Chapter 7

Basic Training Series Masterlist JHFTM Main Masterlist

Word count: 5900

Rating: Mature/Explicit for smut, 18+ only (no minors)

Outline: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x “You” (female reader, no racial description, no physical description, no name, no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: It’s 1997 and Frankie is 22 years old; older woman/younger man dynamic;  former teacher dynamic; kissing; oral sex/F receiving; curse words and vulgar language; 10+ year age gap but everyone is legally an adult; story switches back and forth between Frankie’s POV and Reader’s POV

֎ ֎ ֎

You woke Tuesday morning to warm summer sunlight streaming through the curtains and a small, furry paw batting your chin gently. Even Oscar’s slightly rude prodding for breakfast couldn’t wipe the big smile off your face. You shifted the cranky cat off your chest and rolled to the side of the bed where Frankie had lain the night before. 

You buried your face in the pillow and tried to catch a whiff of his scent, the Old Spice classic deodorant he favored or maybe his shampoo… but there wasn’t anything there. The lack of sensory proof was disappointing, and then you felt silly. Frankie had been there, really. He had kissed you and talked intimately with you and had fucked up into you with his jaw clenched and his eyes on fire. He had stroked your thigh and touched your face and made you feel like a sex goddess with the way that he gripped your flesh and poured his adoration into you.

You tumbled out of bed and stalked naked to the kitchen, pouring Oscar a generous helping of kibble. He rewarded you by rubbing against your leg before he got down to the business of crunching. You popped one ice cube out of a tray and plunked it into a tall glass before running the cold tap for a minute. You chugged the entire glass in thirty seconds and started toward the bathroom, intent on taking a shower. 

Something dark on the floor near the couch caught your eye, and you almost tripped. 

Frankie’s hat, forgotten again when he had set it down to kiss you repeatedly on his way out last night. You had walked him to the door, wrapped in your robe and nothing else, and your goodbyes had turned into fifteen minutes of very handsy making out. Your kisses and caresses had been peppered with Frankie’s repeated murmurs of “Okay, I’m really leaving now,” and “I have to go, but before I do,” and “Just one more kiss.” You had finally gotten him out the door with the promise that he could return on Tuesday and pick up where he left off. 

Frankie had set his cap down on the arm of the couch, saying that he couldn’t possibly hold it and cup your face with both hands at the same time. And then he had demonstrated with glee that freeing up his hands also meant that he could slip one inside your robe to caress your breast while the other grabbed your ass. Oscar must have knocked it off the arm of the couch to the floor while you were asleep.

Just as you were wondering if you should call Frankie - was it too early to call him? You had just seen him last night. Would he want you to call? Were there ‘rules’ for this kind of thing? - your phone rang. You rushed to pick it up. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey! It’s Monica.” Her voice fought to reach you over the sounds of a loud children’s cartoon in the background. “The kids want to go to the beach for a couple of hours. Are you up for joining us?”

You hesitated, “Oh, um… I was just planning to hang around the house today. I kind of had a late night, and I just woke up.”

Monica pounced. “Oh really? Do tell! Wait, hang on…” You heard her muffle the receiver with her hand and say something to her kids in a firm voice. When she came back on the line the background was quieter.

“Okay, I’m in my room. Spill, woman. What kind of ‘late night’ did you have? It’s almost 10:00, I can’t believe you slept in this late! Must have been a really late night.” Monica sounded almost gleeful. 

“I- uh…” you stumbled over your words, completely unsure of how to start. Fortunately, Monica was a pro at interrogation, and drew everything out of you with a series of pointed questions.

“Were you alone?” 

“No.” 

“How many people were there besides you?”

“One.”

“Did you go out or stay in?”

“In.” 

“Girl or guy?” 

“Guy.”

“Your place or his?” 

“Mine.”

Monica laughed. “Ooh. Was it a date?”

“Kind of?” You hated how unsure your voice felt. 

“Who was it? Wait! Don’t tell me, let me guess: Mr. Handsome from your classroom?” 

“... Yeah,” you admitted, but weren’t sure why you felt guilty. Just a few minutes ago you had been so happy about Frankie’s presence in your bed. 

“Did you get takeout and eat dinner and watch a movie? Did he try anything during the movie? Oh! Did he put his hand on your boob?” Monica sounded like she was feasting vicariously on the idea of a date, any date, that didn’t involve being interrupted by a small human. 

“Uh…” 

“What is ‘uh’ supposed to mean?” You could hear the question mark forming above Monica’s head. 

“No dinner, no movie, and he did put his hands on my boobs - plural.”

“Holy shit did you fuck him?!” 

You gulped, and apparently that was all the confirmation Monica needed to chortle down the phone line at you.

“Go you! Holy shit, you move fast! I thought this time yesterday he was just a former student.” Monica teased you gently. “What changed?” 

“Um, he left his hat in my classroom.”

“And?”

“And when I called him and he came over to get it, he kind of… kissed me?”

Monica squealed. “Yay! Holy crap, was it good? Is he a good kisser? I bet he’s a good kisser.” 

Before you could answer, Monica’s nine-year-old son David bellowed in the background. “Mo-o-o-o-o-ommmmm!! Michael is touching me!” 

“Shit, hang on…” Monica muffled the phone again. You heard her use her ‘drill sergeant’ voice, muffled through the line until she removed her hand. “-your brother, or I’ll sell you both to the circus!” 

“We don’t have a circus!” yelled Michael, age 11. You laughed. 

“We will if you don’t stop touching your brother!” 

Monica sighed, “Where were we?” 

“Frankie kissed me.”

“Oh yeah!” Her voice brightened considerably. “Was it good? Like in ‘Pretty In Pink’ - did he have ‘strong lips’?” 

You laughed, “Yeah, actually, yes. He’s very talented in the kissing department.”

“And other departments, too, I bet. Where did he kiss you?” 

You stammered, “Uh… on the mouth…”

Monica giggled. “No, silly, where in your apartment did he kiss you?” 

“Oh! In the kitchen, by the pantry. I couldn’t reach the pasta on the top shelf and he, you know, reached up and got it for me. And then he kissed me.” 

“I thought you said there was no dinner.”

“There wasn’t... I didn’t get around to making the pasta.” 

“Ha!” Monica was back to gleeful. “And then what happened?”

“We talked. He felt bad about kissing me. Really awkward, but we talked about it and I assured him I wasn’t mad or anything. But I also told him I can’t have a long-term relationship with him.”

“What? Why not? He’s yummy,” Monica insisted. “And unless I’m totally missing something, I’m pretty sure he’s into you.”

“Yeah, no, I know. But Monica, he’s young. He’s about to ship off for basic training in a couple of weeks. I can’t expect him to want to maintain a new relationship long-distance. That’s…” you sighed. “That’s too much for him. And for me, too.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess so,” Monica sounded sad. “But then he fucked you anyway?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, remembering Frankie’s words on the couch. “He said he would take me for however long he could get me.” 

“Oh, shit,” Monica’s voice was soft. “He’s really into you, huh?” 

Your smile split into a grin. “Yeah, he is. But listen, don’t breathe a word of this to anybody, okay? I just don’t want it to be weird. I mean, it’s not weird. It’s actually weird how not-weird it is, but-”

“Who would I tell?” Monica laughed. “Everyone I socialize with is under 14 and they don’t care what their boring mom is doing. Not a word will leak from this end. Your secret is safe with me.” 

A tiny girl’s voice piped up in the background, “What secret?”

You laughed and Monica groaned, “I gotta go. There’s no privacy here apparently.” 

Mia, six years old and Monica’s youngest child, continued the quizzing technique that mimicked her mother’s style. “Mama, what secret? Is it a party? Are we going to McDonald’s?” 

You giggled. “Tell Mia I’ll take them all to McDonald’s the next time I come over.” 

Monica protested, “Absolutely not! I’ll let you tell them the next time you’re here. If I tell them now they’ll be pestering me about it non-stop.”

“Tell us what, Mama? What’s the secret?” 

“We’re going to the beach, and if you’re good I’ll get you ice cream.”

“Yay!” You heard Mia squeal and run out of the room.

“Gotta go, but call me later!” Monica disconnected and you stood smiling at the phone before you put it back on the base. It rang again almost immediately. 

You picked it up, expecting Monica. “Hey, what did you forget?” 

“My hat, again.” Frankie’s deep voice answered with a laugh. “How did you know it was me?”

֍ ֍ ֍

Frankie was amused and a bit befuddled. How had she known he was calling? 

He heard her laugh with surprise, and once again he was struck by how good he felt knowing that he was the cause of that sound. That whatever he’d said or done had struck her just right, and that she was laughing because of him, because he had made her happy. 

“Frankie, hi! No, I just hung up with Monica, I thought she was calling me back.” Her voice went softer, and Frankie felt a little tingle in his belly. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Frankie infused his words with a warm smile. “Really good, actually. I had a pretty hot date last night.”

“Oh, did you?” she said playfully. “Anyone I know?”

“No, but she was fine,” Frankie teased. “A gorgeous, intelligent, fascinating woman. I thought she was way out of my league but she actually gave me a shot.”

She gasped theatrically. “Really? And then what happened?”

“I went over to her place, put the moves on her, gave her the full Frankie Morales treatment. In the end, she couldn’t keep her hands off me. I’d love to see her again soon.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, she’s a real firecracker. If I’m not careful she’s going to completely blow my mind, and then I’ll be no good for helicopter camp.”

She giggled, “Did you just call your Army training ‘helicopter camp’?” 

“Yeah, it’s like summer camp, only we don’t make crafts, and hopefully there’s less crying and fewer helicopter crashes.”

She howled with laughter, and Frankie felt his face split into a wide grin. If this was what he got from her with just a few stupid jokes, he would do it for the rest of his life. 

She gasped as she settled back down, and Frankie thrilled when she bubbled at him, “You’re too funny! Stop!” 

Frankie smiled, “Anyway, I’m hoping my girl won’t miss me too much. Wouldn’t want her to be sad after getting a taste of me. I’m very sweet apparently.”

“That you are,” she giggled again, “My sweet boy,” and it made Frankie feel positively gooey inside. He hoped he wasn’t about to kill her good mood with his next bit of news. 

“But listen, I have a problem,” he broached. 

“Oh yeah?” She sounded flirty, like she was expecting more innuendo. 

“Yeah, unfortunately. My mom left early for work with her car, and then my dad’s truck wouldn’t start, so he decided to borrow mine. I woke up to a note taped to my box of breakfast cereal. So unless you want to come pick me up, I’m kind of stuck here until they get home, sorry.” 

“Oh.” She sounded flat. “Do you want me to come get you? Is that…” she searched for a word, “Is that safe? Wouldn’t your parents see my car when I drop you back off tonight?” 

“Shit, I didn’t think of that.” Frankie sighed.

“Is it the same address from when you were in school?” she asked. “I pulled your phone number from an old contact sheet when I called about your hat. I know there’s no city bus out that way.”

“Yeah,” Frankie grimaced. “Same old house.”

“Hmm,” she hummed. “Sorry you can’t get yourself here.” 

Frankie opted for hopeful, “Do you want to just wait until tonight? They’ll both be home around 6:00, then I can head over.”

“Yeah, I guess that’ll be okay. We’ll just make do and work with what we have, right?” 

“Right.” Frankie pouted. “This sucks. I wanted to see you so bad this morning.” 

“Me, too,” she murmured into the phone. The sound of it made Frankie ache. 

Her voice brightened. “But hey, when you do get here tonight, I’ll make you that pasta we never got around to making yesterday. Deal?” 

“Deal.” Frankie grinned and lowered his voice to a husky growl, “Should I bring dessert, or will you be serving the same sweet thing I ate last night?”

She burst out in a throaty chuckle - a warm, pretty sound that made Frankie’s stomach flip over. He let the waves of it wash over him, reveling in the fact that she was once again laughing for him. 

Her laugh bubbled down into a musical sigh, and he could hear her smile through her next words, “Oh, Frankie… What am I going to do with you?”

“Anything you want,” he murmured. 

She hummed thoughtfully, “Anything?”

“Anything. I’ve got a little less than three weeks left,” Frankie inhaled deeply and hoped that she would know he meant every word, “...but I’m all yours for the duration. Surprise me.” 

“Oh, now there’s an idea.” She sounded brighter. “That I can definitely do for you.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” said Frankie. “I’ll see you around 6:30?” 

“Yeah, sweet boy. I’ll see you here at my place, 6:30.” 

“See you then,” Frankie murmured a goodbye and hung up the phone. 

Shit, he thought as he stretched his arms behind his head. Now what?

Frankie toyed with the idea of hitting the shower and rubbing one out, but he decided that he wasn’t particularly horny, so he could wait. Scratch that - he wanted to wait. She had felt amazing last night, so warm and snug around his cock. Even through the barrier of the condom she was the best thing Frankie had ever felt. The next time he came, he wanted it to be with her wrapped around him. And he didn’t want to risk that he wouldn’t be able to come again a second time, even with hours in between. He decided to save himself just for her, for tonight. 

After a bowl of cereal and a few phone calls, Frankie lined up plans with his old high school buddy Mark to play video games and shoot some hoops in the park. By 10:30 they were shit-talking on the blacktop and sweating up a storm in the summer heat. 

“Oh fuck you,” Mark called as Frankie sunk a basket. “You gotta let me have one, man.”

“Nope, you want a shot, you gotta come and take it,” Frankie shot back.

“That’s what your mom said to me last night,” Mark bragged. 

Frankie bounced the ball over to Mark with a grin, “Take your shot, douchebag.”

Mark’s throw hit the center of the basket and raised his fists in a victory gesture. “Boo-yah! That’s how it’s done!” 

Frankie grabbed the ball as it rolled back and popped it at Mark’s chest. “At least you play basketball better than you fuck.” 

“Oh, what would you know?” Mark grinned as he dribbled the ball lazily, “You haven’t seen a pussy since you came out of one.” 

“For your information, I had a wild first date last night.” He waited for Mark to line up at the basket. Just as Mark was about to shoot, Frankie added, “And for once it wasn’t your mom.” Mark fumbled and missed, and Frankie laughed. 

“Bullshit,” said Mark as he grabbed the ball and shot it back to Frankie. “What poor, demented girl did you trick into having sex with you?” 

“A woman, not a girl.” Frankie grinned. “An older woman.” He took a shot and hit the basket. 

Mark gaped at him. “An older woman? So like, what, twenty-five? Twenty-six? It wasn’t Darren’s older sister, was it? He’ll shit a brick.”

Frankie shook his head and laughed. “Definitely not Darren’s sister, and she’s a woman, a very sophisticated, sexy older woman.”

“Well, who is she?” Mark aimed and his shot hit the rim before dribbling back to him. 

“Can’t say, won’t say. My lips are sealed.” Frankie smiled, “But trust me, it’s good. She’s… amazing. I’m definitely buying her flowers the next time I see her.”

“Jesus Christ, dude. One date and you’re already pussy-whipped?” Mark shook his head as Frankie lined up his next throw. 

Frankie’s shot hit the rim and teetered for a moment before falling in. “You call it ‘pussy-whipped,’ I call it ‘romance,’” Frankie grinned. “We’ll see which one of us has a better summer. Trust me, she knows what she’s doing in bed. She’s better than all of my other girlfriends combined.”

Mark made a motion like he was jerking off. “What other girlfriends? Lefty and Righty?” 

Frankie rolled his eyes and popped the ball at Mark. “You’re up, dingus. Let’s finish and go home before I melt out here.”

By 11:30 they were back at Frankie’s house chugging Gatorade and calling for a pizza. Frankie decided to hop into a quick shower while Mark connected his Nintendo 64 console to the living room TV. He emerged from his bedroom, curls damp, and dressed in sweatpants and T-shirt just in time to hear Mark holler, “Hey dude, do you hook this up to AUX or Channel 3?” 

“Channel 3, same as always.”

“Bitchin’, I’m going to kick your ass at Mario Kart. I owe you a trouncing from the last time we played during Spring Break.” 

Frankie laughed. “Nuh-uh, never gonna happen. I’m gonna enjoy kicking your ass again. I’ll even do it as Princess Peach just to piss you off.”

“Oh fuck you,” Mark grinned. “It’s on.” 

Frankie and Mark got through three rounds, ribbing each other non-stop, before they were interrupted by the doorbell and a light knock. 

“Pizz-UH!” Mark bellowed. 

Frankie laughed and got up from the couch. He grabbed some cash from his wallet to cover the pizza and the tip. 

When he opened the door his jaw dropped. 

֎ ֎ ֎

You smiled at Frankie and peeped over the rim of your sunglasses. 

“Hi, Frankie. I’m here for your math tutoring,” you winked. 

Frankie’s wide eyes swept your frame, clad in your date-night dress from the grocery store. You watched his eyes trace from the bodice that flattered your bust just the way you liked, to the drape of the fabric over your hips, to the flirty hem and back up. You had gone all-out, even donning the same first-date jewelry and makeup as Saturday night, hoping he would enjoy the surprise. 

You took off your sunglasses and dropped your voice to a honeyed, sultry drawl, “We’re going to have to “study” awfully hard today, Frankie. Are you ready for your hands-on training?”

Frankie gulped hard, and you realized that his expression wasn’t surprise mixed with joy, but astonishment and something that looked an awful lot like fear. 

“Oh fuck,” Frankie winced, and your stomach trembled just a bit. 

You heard the sound of some video game music coming from the living room, and your brain caught up with the realization that there was an extra car parked out front, taking up the space behind Frankie’s dad’s truck in the driveway. You had parked three houses down and around the corner, out of paranoia that someone would see your car and somehow instantly know that you and Frankie were involved. But you hadn’t really looked at the extra vehicle when you walked across the lawn, it had barely registered. And now it seemed like Frankie wasn’t quite as ‘home alone’ as you thought. 

Just then a high, falsetto voice called from within the house, “Oh, loverboy! What’s taking you so long?” 

Frankie’s face blanched white, and you desperately hoped that you were misreading the situation. But given the terror on his face and the fact that someone else was in the house, there was an instant surge of nausea at the back of your throat. Your limbs felt heavy, and all the air seemed to have been sucked out of your lungs.

You looked at Frankie, suddenly unsure of yourself and your brilliant idea to come over and surprise him. Your brows knit together and you hated how small your voice sounded when you finally unstuck your tongue. 

“F-frankie?” You blinked rapidly to clear a few tears that threatened to well up. “Um, what’s going on?”

Frankie clenched his jaw and gave you a tight smile, “Um, that’s Mark. He’s fucking around.” 

He called out over his shoulder, “Shut the fuck up, man.” 

A male voice rang back, “Is it the pizza?” 

You exhaled a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding, and Frankie looked at you sheepishly.

“I thought you- pizza- I mean,” he shook his head. “I thought you were the pizza guy.” 

You heard the slam of a car door from the street and Frankie looked over your shoulder, relieved. “There’s the pizza.” 

A heavy thud of footsteps sounded from inside, and a young man appeared in the front entryway, giving a cheery yell, “Pizza! Finally!” 

He stopped when he saw you, a look of recognition and confusion coloring his features. “Hey! What’re you doing here, Miss-” 

“Pizza’s here!” Frankie announced loudly, startling you. 

“Oh, hi Mark,” you waved lamely at your other former student. “Long time, no see. How’s your mom doing? She still working at the hospital?”

“She’s good, yeah… Uh,” he glanced at Frankie and then back at you, “What’s going on?”

You fumbled, “Um, I-” 

“Tutoring,” Frankie interrupted.

Mark’s quizzical frown dissolved into disbelief. “Tutoring? Man, we graduated four years ago. Why the fuck-”

“Got your pizza here,” a deep voice from behind made you jump, and you quickly moved to the side of the front door, blessedly out of Mark’s line of sight - and questions. 

You closed your eyes and tried to breathe slowly and bring your heart rate back to normal as Frankie paid for the pizza. When the delivery man left, you looked at Frankie and laughed weakly. 

“You’re busy, I should go.” 

Frankie shook his head, holding the pizza box in one hand and grabbing yours with his other. 

He leaned his face close to yours, “Don’t you dare.”

Frankie led you inside, where Mark still stood in the front entryway. 

“Here,” Frankie handed the pizza to Mark. “Why don’t you take that home?” 

“Take it home? You’re not gonna eat any-”

Frankie interrupted him. “I’m sorry, dude. I totally forgot I had tutoring today.” He turned to you. “Do you want to go sit in the dining room and I’ll grab my books?” 

“Yes! Great idea.” You smiled, “Good to see you again, Mark.” 

Mark looked at Frankie with skepticism. “Are you serious? What kind of tutoring could you possibly need?”

“Advanced trigonometry and physics for the flight training exam I have to take next month.” 

Frankie clapped Mark on the shoulder, “C’mon, I’ll help you pack up your Nintendo and you can head out. I’m really sorry I gotta bail on you.”

You bit your lip to suppress a smile and walked down the central hallway, past the kitchen, to the dining room at the back of the house. You felt giddy and a little weak from the roller-coaster of the past five minutes: from riding the high of excitement about surprising Frankie to the sickening dip of thinking he had another woman with him, to the sideways whip of seeing Mark and worrying that he would suspect that you and Frankie were up to something.

You sat down at the table and listened to their deep voices rumbling from the living room. A few moments later the front door opened and slammed shut, and you felt instantly relieved.

Frankie appeared in the doorway of the dining room, one broad shoulder propped against the side of the jamb, arms crossed over his chest as he looked at you with wide eyes and a gentle smirk.  

You felt a giggle of a laugh bubbling up, and when Frankie’s smirk dissolved into a chuckle, you lost it. 

You both laughed until you cried. 

֍ ֍ ֍

Frankie watched her laugh, letting the sick swirl of adrenaline from the near-miss with Mark ebb away. He drank in the sight of her sitting at his dining room table, eyes crinkling with mirth and shoulders shaking as her laughter filled the room. She swiped a tear away from under one eye, and Frankie thought she had never looked so pretty. 

She had worn the same dress from the grocery store last Saturday night, and Frankie said a silent prayer thanking whichever prick had given her such a bad first date that she ended up in the produce section that night. 

Frankie grinned at her from the doorway, and when the laughter settled, he teased her a bit. “So, math tutoring, huh?” 

Her eyebrows flicked up and she shrugged with a soft smile, “You said surprise you.” She bit her lip. “Are you mad?” 

Frankie shook his head and walked over to her. He leaned down and kissed her, cupping her face in his hands. He took his time, pressing hard against her mouth with his own, and nuzzling his nose against hers as he bit off kisses until she whimpered with desire. 

“Do I seem angry to you?” he murmured. 

“No, but I was worried that-” 

Frankie stopped her mouth with another kiss. “Then there’s nothing to worry about.”

She smiled and gazed up at him. “So, a good surprise then?” 

Frankie smiled. “Great surprise, actually. Were you trying to do the whole ‘math tutoring seduction fantasy’ thing for me?” 

She looked a bit embarrassed, “Yeah, kind of cheesy, huh?”

“Very, but I love it.” Frankie grinned seductively, “I actually do have one skill I learned recently that I need you to evaluate, tell me how my progress is coming along.”

She raised an eyebrow, “What is it?”

“Oh I can’t tell you,” said Frankie as he kneeled next to her chair. “I have to show you.” 

She started to turn toward him and he put his hand on her thigh to stop her. “Stay right there,” he commanded. “Will you keep your legs under the table for me?”

She nodded her assent.

Frankie winked, “And for this demonstration you’ll need to put your hands flat on the tabletop.” 

She frowned skeptically at him, but complied, “Okay.” 

Frankie ducked his head to crawl under the table and sat back on his heels, centering himself between her knees. He ran his fingers lightly up the backs of her calves, and her legs trembled. He smiled softly. Seeing her affected by him was so addicting, he wanted more of it. 

He flexed his fingers to brush against the little dimple behind each knee, and she giggled and shivered. Frankie skimmed his hand up, pulling the fabric of the dress higher to pool over her thighs. 

She brought one hand down to pull her dress up and Frankie caught her fingers with his own. He placed a kiss to the back of her hand and heard her exhale a shaky breath. 

“Put your hand back up, please?” He murmured. “I got you.”

She let go and her hand disappeared, back on top of the table. Frankie pushed the hem of her dress higher and higher, until he could see the lace of her panties covering her mound. He ran his palms over the tops of her thighs and back down, then gently hooked his fingers behind her knees and pulled her legs wide apart. He placed a soft, lingering kiss to the inside of one thigh. 

He heard her inhale sharply, followed by a softly voiced, “Oh,” full of wonder.

Frankie ran his fingers up the outsides of her thighs, reveling in the feel of her soft skin under his touch. When he reached the waistband of her underwear he tugged gently down, and she shifted to hover just off the chair, allowing him to slide them down off her hips. Frankie pulled her panties down her legs at a glacial pace, delighting in the tremble of her legs and the way that goosebumps appeared as the lace and his fingertips skimmed along. 

Finally, her panties were off and Frankie could see all of her. He hooked his fingers around the back of her knees again, “Scoot towards me. Lean back,” he told her.

She scooted forward on the chair until she was almost at the edge, and as her back settled against the chair her legs fell open wider. Frankie felt himself getting hard in his sweatpants as more of her gorgeous pussy came into view. He wanted to tease her and make her legs tremble more, bring her to the height of anticipation and arousal. 

He started low, teasing her with gentle strokes of his fingers around her ankles and slowly up the backs of her calves. Frankie saw her hips roll and he heard her hum with anticipation. He placed a soft, warm kiss to the inside of one knee, and she shivered for him again. 

Frankie grinned and dragged his fingers higher, skimming the outsides of her knees with a grazing touch. He kissed the inside of her other thigh, reveling in the way that her legs shifted open just another inch. He felt his cock pulse at the sight of her glistening lips, and the way that her warm, unique scent enveloped him as she got more aroused. 

He ran both hands up the outsides of her thighs to the junction of her hips and then dragged them slowly back down, flexing his fingers so that his nails just skimmed along. Above the table, she moaned for him, and Frankie felt an overwhelming sense of gratification at the realization that he could do all of this for her, make her tense and relax by turns, make her as turned-on as she made him. 

He shifted forward and laid his tongue to the inside of her knee, letting the heat of it linger in the wake of the goosebumps that had risen. He wrapped his lips around the tip of his tongue and kissed her softly. He did the same to the inside of her other knee, and she tensed, her legs threatening to close as she moaned again. 

Frankie kept his hands moving, back up the tops of her thighs this time, tracing a path to the junction of her hips once again. He paused there to press his fingertips in just a bit, watching her jump at the ticklish sensation before he released his fingers and skimmed them back down over her knees. 

When he made his third pass up her legs, Frankie chose the route along her inner thighs. He pressed his fingers more firmly than he had on the other two passes, and went even slower. He heard her sigh raggedly, and then her hands came down. One gripped the seat of the chair and the other grasped at the fabric of her skirt. 

Frankie froze, and he saw the moment she realized and let go, untwisting her fingers from the rumpled fabric of her dress and lifting them back up to rest on the tabletop. He grinned to himself and rewarded her with another hot, wet kiss to her inner thigh. He decided to tease her one final bit before he dove in, and he skimmed his lips higher and higher up her thigh in the wake of his fingers. 

She shivered and her legs trembled as his fingers reached her outer lips. Frankie ghosted his fingers up and down her pussy, and he was rewarded with another deep moan and a sigh. Even better was the sight of her practically leaking onto the vinyl seat of the dining room chair. Frankie’s erection protested against the confines of his sweatpants. He stifled a groan as he leaned forward and his sensitive tip rubbed against the fabric. 

Frankie stuck his tongue out and ran it lightly over her lips, up her seam to her clit. She made a strangled noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a moan, and Frankie felt flush with pride. He still couldn’t believe she was his, that she was here with him, and that he could make her make those noises. Frankie thought back to one former girlfriend who had always told him that he was a great kisser; he was amused to realize that he should have been using his talents all this time to simply make out with a girl’s pussy instead of treating oral like it was a separate skill, like it was something different that he needed to learn anew. 

He dove in eagerly, using his fingers to pull her open gently as he wrapped his lips around the hard bud of her clit. She cried out and slammed one hand on the tabletop as he licked and probed her most intimate places with his tongue, reveling in the way her wetness ran down his chin. He wrapped his fingers around her hips and pressed his face harder against her core as she began to tremble and thrash. She moaned and bucked under his lips, and Frankie used her movements to his advantage, following her with his mouth and keeping his iron grip on her hips. 

He licked down and stuck his tongue inside of her as far as it would go, and released one hand from her hip so that he could press and manipulate her clit with his thumb. He heard her gasp as her legs tried to close, and he used his other hand to hold one knee open. 

She tensed up, sitting up a little straighter on the chair before she fell apart in his mouth, clenching around his tongue and crying out a nonsensical string of, “Fuck… Frankie, oh god… oh fuck!”

Frankie withdrew his tongue and licked her slowly up and down as she climaxed. He pressed one finger inside to feel the last of her throbbing pulses as she came down. He kissed her thigh again as he rubbed her walls slowly, pressing her clit with his thumb gently. When her hand came down to pat his wrist, a signal to let go, he withdrew.  

He wiped his mouth with a cupped hand and emerged from under the table to find her limp, slumped back in the chair with a gorgeous, soft smile on her face. She met his eyes and sighed, shaking her head in wonderment. 

“Frankie- you-” she gulped. “That was amazing.”

He grinned at her. “Getting better?” 

She laughed, “Yeah, your skills are definitely improving.”

Frankie smiled and helped pull her up to stand in front of him, wrapping her in an embrace and kissing her deeply. She tangled her tongue with his and hummed with satisfaction. 

Frankie broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers, suffused with warmth and happiness that she was his, even for just a few weeks.

֎ ֎ ֎

“Everything bagel” tag list: @quica-quica-quica @anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @anxiousandboujee @cevvie @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @deadhumourist @mandoalorian @javierpinme @eri16 @mandocrasis @pilothusband @bastillealmighty @jitterbugs927 @babiiface95 @toomanystoriessolittletime @yespolkadotkitty @fisforfulcrum @prettylilhalforc @mswarriorbabe80 @littlemisspascal @wildemaven @castleamc @coreychick @whataperfectwasteoftime @bunniesofsteel @katareyoudrilling @furious-rogue-stuff @green-socks @mrsparknuts @districtcherri @blub-senpai @nagassia

#pedro pascal fic #pedrostories #pedro stories #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales x you #frankie morales x female reader #frankie catfish morales x female reader #frankie morales x older woman #frankie catfish morales x older woman #frankie morales smut #frankie catfish morales smut #frankie morales smutfic #frankie catfish morales smutfic #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier smut #triple frontier smutfic #young frankie morales #young frankie catfish morales #basic training

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Vi's Fic Recs Week One

First up, thank you all for your submissions, self or otherwise! It was really nice to share y'alls work and I can't wait to do the same next week!

In order of posting:

Something in the Shadows | Joel Miller x Reader (dubcon read the warnings) | @jksp10writes / @jksprincess10

Just You & Me, Darlin’ | joel miller x f!reader | @pedroslittlelady

Favorite Bounty | Din Djarin x afab!bounty!reader | @pedroshotwifey

Sunshine | Dark!Joel Miller x Reader (read the warnings DDDNE) | @kewwrites

Endurance | Frankie Morales x Reader | @schnarfer

The Slip Up | Javier Peña x F!Virgin!Reader | @pascalssbabyy

when we begin again | Joel Miller x F!Reader | @covetyou

Somewhere To Run |Sherrif!Joel Miller x Reader | @punkshort

Chubby!Frankie Morales x F!reader Masterlist | @beefrobeefcal

The Melting Point | Frankie Morales x Baker!Reader | @penvisions

Fuse | Din Djarin x Reader/Ezra x Reader/ Din x Reader x Ezra | @marisferasiop

Foolish | Joel Miller x F!Reader | @lady-bess

well, tough luck... | Young!Dieter Bravo x Reader | @sin-djarin

Nothing That I Didn't Know | Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x reader x Santiago 'Pope' Garcia | @for-a-longlongtime

Homecoming | Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x reader x Santiago 'Pope' Garcia | @astroboots

The things I do for you | Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader x Frankie “Catfish” Morales | @writefightandflightclub

Honor and Obey | Frankie Morales x Santiago Garcia x Santi’s wife! Reader | @magpiepills

To Be Explored Later | Francisco "Catfish" Morales x Santiago "Pope" Garcia x female reader | @legendary-pink-dot

Love Spell | Joel Miller x F!Reader | @strang3lov3

Able | Joel Miller x disabled F!Reader | @ladamedusoif

Party Trick | Dieter Bravo x pornstar!Ezra x f!reader | @tightjeansjavi

Devotion | Cult Leader!Joel Miller x F!Reader | @noxturnalpascal

Was it All A Dream? | Din Djarin x F!Reader | @beskarandblasters

Trust | Din Djarin x gn!Reader | @wannab-urs

Wings. Fire. Magic. | Dragon Trainer Joel x Female Reader | @mountainsandmayhem

Untrustworthy | Boba Fett x f!Reader | @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Roads | Joel Miller x fem reader | @milla-frenchy

27! That's an amazing amount of fics for one day!! Amazing stuff folks!

Get your submissions in next week - drop me an ask! I'll start scheduling them on Thursday!

#fic rec friday #fic rec #vi's fic recs #vi's fic rec friday #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #fanfic #joel miller #din djarin #javi gutierrez #baldur's gate 3 #dave york #ppcu #oberyn martell #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #the equalizer #mr ben snl #marcus moreno #marcus pike #max phillips #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fandom

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Frankie isn't afraid of growing old [Frankie x gn!reader]

My Frankie Morales masterlist

Read on Ao3

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x you (I think it’s gn!reader, correct me if I’m wrong).

Warnings: Implied sex at the end, but this is just short and sweet and sfw.

Summary: You like Frankie's hair and beard and body? Idek.

Words: 788

You stop on the threshold to the bathroom, and lean on the door frame, admiring the view before you.

Frankie’s just out of the shower, towel hanging low on his narrow hips, his pudgy belly protruding over the edge of the cotton. Long, strong legs, thick thighs (now hidden by the towel), broad shoulders, arms muscular by physical labor, not lifting weights. A bit of a double chin forming, round cheeks when he smiles – which he does often. Facial hair growing out of order, silver scattered among the dark bristles. His hair echoes that salt and pepper, and newly washed, towel-dried… Good lord, those curls.

Your man is a hot piece of ass, there’s no other way of putting it.

He glances over at you, a little smile playing in the corner of his mouth as he reaches for the shaving cream.

”What?”

”You know what,” you smile back.

”I don’t.”

”Yes you do, stud. You’re so fucking sexy.”

His ears turn pink, and he hurries to lather his face with shaving cream.

”Thanks.” His voice is demure, but warm, and his long lashes are cast down as he picks up his razor, before looking up in the mirror.

”Why the shaving?” you ask, now entering the bathroom. He raises a brow at you, razor at the ready.

”Honey, I look like Hugh Jackman in X-Men.”

”You say that like it’s a bad thing…”

”It’s beginning to look unkempt.”

You grab a towel from the rack, and dab a little at his face. ”Just a little touch-up? I like your facial hair.”

”It’s getting itchy.”

”That’s because you’re not using the products I got you,” you roll your eyes and give Frankie a ”told you so” look. He smiles back, sheepishly, and puts down the razor. You take that as an invitation to wet the towel, and start to wipe the cream off his face. A lock of hair falls down his forehead, and you brush it to the side, letting your fingers run through the damp curls. Frankie releases a small sigh, as do you.

God, how you love that he’s just who he is. He’s not ashamed of his body, doesn’t sweat it that he’s going grey (you almost spit out your drink the first time you saw Benjamin with his newly colored hair – there’s a guy who refuses to grow old), and doesn’t care if you shave your body hair or not.

Frankie just isn’t afraid of growing old. He welcomes it with open arms, now that he’s out of the military, alive and spending the rest of his life with you.

”Just a little trim?” you now suggest, and Frankie agrees. You take the electric razor from its dock, check the setting, then go over your man’s mustache and patchy beard. When you’re done, you change the setting again, and touch up the edges. Finally, you take out the beard oil, and carefully massage it onto his face. All the time, Frankie’s eyes are fixed on yours, half closed like those of a cat enjoying itself in a patch of sunlight.

”There,” you finally nod, patting his cheek. ”Pretty as a pony.”

Frankie chuckles, now tearing his gaze from you, and checking himself in the mirror. He runs his palms over his cheeks, turns his face this way and that to check all the angles.

”Thanks,” he finally says, looking happy. He may not be that interested in trying to look young, but he does want to look good with what he has. ”It’s much better.”

”You’re very welcome,” you smile, equally happy with the result. Frankie draws his fingers through his hair.

”I think I’ll see if the barber has an opening tomorrow.”

”Noooo,” you protest, taking his hands away from his hair, and running your own fingers through the curls that you love so much. ”No touchy!”

”Honestly, baby, I’m beginning to think that you won’t love me anymore if I were to turn bald!”

”I wouldn’t,” you tell him cruelly. ”You wouldn’t be the same without the hair.”

”You’re breaking my heart,” he mock sobs dramatically. ”You’re only with me because I look good.”

”Well, duh.”

You lean in, smelling the beard oil and body wash on him. Tentatively, your lips brush over his.

”I’ll tell you a secret,” you whisper, your hands sneaking around his waist, pulling him in close, his big warm belly pressing up against you.

”Yeah?” He nips at your lips, hands coming to just above your ass.

”I don’t like the idea of someone else touching your hair.”

”Jealousy is a good look on you…”

”Everything looks good on me.”

”True.”

You untie the towel around his hips, and Frankie presses his grinning lips to yours.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier fanfic #my fic #x reader

[for-a-longlongtime]

Masterlist

All fics are rated Explicit, 18+ only - MDNI. 🏳‍🌈 Please check the warnings! Follow @longlongtime-updates for fic updates.

Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x f!reader x Santiago 'Pope' Garcia

Chapter 1: The Bar Chapter 2: The Restroom

Tim Rockford x Marcus Pike + Frankie Morales (NEW!) Marcus and Tim have rules to avoid trouble: don't hook up more than three times with others and don't hide anything. But things change when Marcus meets Frankie.

I: Maverick [Marcus x Frankie, observed by Tim] II: No Game At All (But I Can Do This) [Tim x Marcus] III: Danger Zone [Marcus x Frankie] IV: Wild Card [Frankie x Marcus] V: Sometime Around Midnight [Frankie x Marcus] (NEW 2/21!)

Ezra x f!reader x young!Benny Miller (NEW!) When Benny comes over to see you and Ezra, a lazy afternoon takes an interesting turn. Things are said, orders are being followed, two of you might be to blame for Benny's ruined jeans, and that lovely turquoise strap-on gets used. Let the good times slut roll.

"The brat tamer wants to be tamed". WIP snippet #1 | WIP snippet #2

Divider graphics by @saradika. If you want me to add you to the general taglist or for a specific series, drop me a comment or send me an ask!

#pedro pascal #frankie morales #tim rockford #javier peňa #santiago garcia #m/m #m/m/m #m/m/f #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character smut #masterlist #my writing #my fic #aquamarine #nothing that i didn't know #Maverick

[pedroscurls]

Third Time’s A Charm (Part 7).

Character(s): Frankie “Catfish” Morales and Reader (female, second person POV)  Summary: Frankie tells you what happened in Colombia and things slowly begin to shift between the both of you. Word Count: 2,747 Author's Note: Thank you guys for sticking around. I know this update is a little late (especially since I’ve been updating daily for the first 5-6 chapters), but I appreciate you all for being patient with me. Anyways, enjoy! We’re getting to the good parts🥹🫶 Warning: Mentions of killing, violence, death.

“What?” You looked at him with a shocked expression, obviously taken aback by his words. Tom was gone? What did that mean? “What do you mean he’s gone, Frankie?”

Frankie sighed and leaned back against the wall, running a hand over his face. His shoulders slumped forward and he avoided your eyes. “We lost him.”

“Frankie,” you pleaded. “Just say it…”

“You know what I mean, hermosa,” Frankie sighed. “Don’t make me say it.”

You bit your lower lip and gently took his hand. Instead of replying, you decided to lead him back to your bedroom, hoping that it would bring him the comfort and safety you were sure he was probably needing. You glanced over your shoulder as he followed you, still avoiding your gaze. His hand squeezed yours tightly and once inside your room, you turned the lights on and shut the door behind you.

“What are you–”

“You’re beating yourself up,” you interrupted. 

Frankie huffed, looking around your room. “It should’ve been me,” he whispered. “I was too quick on the trigger.”

“Frankie,” you sighed, leading him to sit on your bed. “Talk to me, please.” You didn’t want to push information out of him, but you knew that if Frankie kept all of this bottled in, things could get worse. It was like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. 

He looked at you, eyes teary. “Nothing went as planned… And there was this village,” Frankie sighed. “They had weapons, they were reaching for it and–” Frankie shook his head, looking away from you. “I killed all those people… We should have been more aware, more alert.”

“Did they–” you sighed. “Is that why Tom is gone?” You asked, keeping a hold on his hand reassuringly. 

Frankie sighed, watching how you laced your fingers with his. He felt a sudden sense of relief wash over him, knowing that he was safe and that he was with you. “Part of it… There were these two young men. I’m guessing one of the people that we killed was their dad and well, they followed us when we left. They wanted Tom,” his jaw tightened and so did his grip around your hand. “They saw Tom shoot their people, but– But I think I pulled the trigger first. If I hadn’t–”

“Then you’d all be dead,” you whispered quietly. Hesitantly, you released his hand to cup his cheek, watching as he turned to look over at you. “I’m sure that you all did what you could, Frankie…”

He sighed, leaning against your touch. “Everything just went to shit,” he replied. “And all that money,” Frankie shook his head. “All for nothing.”

“I don’t know what I can do to help,” you replied honestly. “Part of me would like to believe that Tom wouldn’t want you thinking like this though…” Slowly, you dropped your hands and pulled back, looking over at him as you brought your legs underneath you. “You all made a choice, including Tom.”

Frankie shook his head, looking away from you. “And look what that choice cost us.” 

“Do you regret it?” You asked.

He sighed, shrugging a shoulder. “No, and Santiago would have done it without us and who knows what would have happened.”

“The guilt would have settled in just as much as it is now,” you replied. “This mission was supposed to be easy and it wasn’t, but you guys adapted, you guys were there with Tom until the very end…”

Frankie felt tears stinging his eyes, feeling a sudden heaviness of emotions weighing on his shoulders. He tried to hold it back, tried not to show you how much it was affecting him, but he knew that he couldn’t hide it from you. 

“I just can’t be around Vic, or Santiago, or Benny or Will,” he admitted. 

“Then stay here as long as you need to,” you replied. “But you know that you can’t hide out here forever.”

Frankie sighed. All he could remember was his last few conversations with Tom, knowing how he was struggling with his divorce and with Tess, but also remembering the advice he had given him. It gave Frankie the clarity he needed, especially since you came back into his life. 

“I’ll talk to Santiago tomorrow,” he said quietly. 

“And Victoria?”

“Not thinking that far ahead,” Frankie said. “I just– I just want to be here, with you. Is that okay?” 

You nodded and lied back down, gently pulling him down with you. Frankie followed you closely, lying back down and hesitantly wrapping his arms around you. You leaned into him with your head resting against his shoulder and your arm draped over his midsection. You knew that this was crossing the line, but a part of you didn’t care, at least not at this moment. 

Frankie shut his eyes, feeling himself relax completely. It always surprised him by how comfortable and safe he felt when he was with you; even with the nagging thoughts, you managed to calm him down and reassure him that things would be okay.

“You know that what happened in Colombia wasn’t your fault, right?” you whispered, looking up at him and noticing how relaxed he looked in comparison to just fifteen minutes ago. 

Frankie didn’t look at you, instead, he just shrugged a shoulder. “There are so many things we could have done differently and if we did, then maybe Tom would still be alive.”

“Did you and the guys do everything you could?” You asked. 

“Yeah.”

“And when shit hit the fan, you guys adapted?”

“Yeah.”

“Then what else could you guys have done?” 

Frankie sighed, “I don’t know. I just know that Tom didn’t deserve to die like that.”

You bit your lower lip, tightening your hold on him and burying your face against him. Knowing that Tom was gone broke your heart; while he was divorced, he still loved Molly and Tess was his entire world. Tom was just doing his best to navigate civilian life and while he struggled, you knew that he did all he could. This mission was something he needed (you and the rest of the guys knew that), but it hurt to know that it cost him his life. 

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m gonna miss him.”

Frankie slowly opened his eyes, using his free hand to run gently along your arm. He leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead and sighed, “Wanna know what Tom told me?

“Hm?”

“He told me I deserve to be happy,” he whispered. 

You bit your lower lip, looking up at him. “And are you? Happy?” 

Frankie sighed. “I don’t think I’ve been happy for a long time,” he admitted. “But with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.” He kept his eyes locked with yours; lying down with you like this and having you in his arms served as a reminder of what he truly wanted and missed. 

“Frankie,” you replied quietly. There was a blush that slowly crept up along the side of your neck and to your cheeks, feeling your heart skip a beat and butterflies fill your tummy. He had always been the only one who was able to make you feel special and even after years of being together, Frankie still made you blush, still made you feel like the most important person in the world. 

“And I want to be happy again,” Frankie said honestly.

“I want you to be happy too,” you added. “But–”

He shook his head and interrupted you with a soft kiss on your forehead once more. “We don’t have to talk about it right now. I just wanted to let you know where I’m at.” When he pulled back, he tightened his hold around you further and shut his eyes. 

You didn’t respond though. You didn’t know what he meant, or what he was implying. Frankie was still a married man and no matter how badly you wanted to be with him, you knew that you couldn’t cross that line. But you would be lying to yourself if you said that it didn’t hurt, to know that while he still felt the same way, you couldn’t have him. 

You watched as he slowly fell asleep, relaxing against your bed. His quiet snores filtered your room and you noticed a calm and relieved expression on his face. You wondered how long it had been since he had a good night’s rest and you certainly didn’t want to wake him either, especially not after his episode earlier. 

But now, you couldn’t sleep. Your mind drifted. You thought about Tom and it brought tears to your eyes to know that he was no longer here anymore, but you also thought about the rest of the guys. If Frankie was reacting the way he did, you had to wonder how Santiago, Benny, and Will were doing. Then, you thought back to Victoria. She made it very clear that she and Frankie were more than okay, even mentioning the idea of couple’s therapy. Though, it confused you because while Frankie gave you limited information, there was something going on in his marriage that you knew was none of your business. 

A week ago, you didn’t expect Frankie to enter your life again and you certainly didn’t expect the feelings to come rushing back. He was always the man you were supposed to be with, but when he decided to get married, you just assumed that the feelings were just one-sided. And now, lying with him like this, with the sounds of his snores… It just brought back so many memories from when you were together. This was something you always hoped would happen again; a third and final chance that would allow you both to get it right this time. 

But, Frankie was still married. 

Trying to force the lingering thoughts out of your mind, you leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek. He hummed in response and nuzzled closer to you. 

“I love you,” you whispered, finally shutting your eyes and forcing yourself to sleep.

—

The following morning (which was just a few hours later), you had woken up to the sound of your phone ringing. You and Frankie had shifted with you lying on your side and him cuddling behind you. You felt him bury his face against the back of your neck and his arms tightened around you. You wanted to revel in this moment, but the sound of your phone going off was preventing you. 

Quietly, you pulled yourself from his arms and grabbed your phone to see that it was Santiago calling. Feeling slightly relieved, you looked over your shoulder and found Frankie still asleep, still snoring. Figuring that he needed the rest, you stepped out of your room and walked into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee and finally answered the phone.

“Santi,” you said softly. “Are you okay?” 

Santiago sighed. “He told you.”

“Someone had to.”

“It’s my fault,” Santiago replied quietly. “I shouldn’t have– I was being selfish and the guys wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me. Tom would still be here–”

“Stop,” you sighed. “I just had this conversation with Frankie last night and I’m going to tell you what I told him. Each of you had a choice, Santi, and I know you did all that you could to prepare for this mission.”

“But–”

“No,” you interrupted. “Tom wouldn’t want you guys thinking like this, and you know that.”

“He’s gone,” he replied. His voice was shaky, quiet, sad. 

“I know,” you responded. “You, Frankie, Will, and Benny need to talk about it, Santiago. I wasn’t there. I can’t–” you sighed heavily. “I can only do so much.”

“No, you’re right,” Santiago sighed. “How is Fish?”

You leaned against the counter of your kitchen island and sighed, remembering Frankie’s brief episodic flashback. “Not good, Santi. He had a bit of an episode last night. A motorcycle’s exhaust–”

“Sounded like a gunshot,” Santiago interrupted. “We’re all on edge.” 

“He slept in my bed,” you blurted out. “With me in it.”

Santiago let out a quiet chuckle. “And…”

“And he told me he wasn’t happy.”

“He isn’t.”

“He’s still married.”

“He is,” Santiago said. “But what do you want to do about it?” 

You bit your lower lip and thought back to Victoria. You had always been polite to her, but all you could think about was a couple of days ago when you bumped into her. She had acted so friendly and such a complete difference than a year ago when she pulled you aside. Still, neither of the guys knew about it and you certainly didn’t want to tell them either. 

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I still love him, Santi.”

“We all know that,” he sighed. “You know, the day you had us over for dinner, Fish asked Tom for some advice.”

“Frankie did mention that…”

“He asked Tom when he knew his marriage with Molly was over,” Santiago replied. “Frankie hasn’t been happy in a long time and the rest of the guys noticed a big shift in him this last week. Maybe it had something to do with you.”

“What would Tom say about all of this?” you sighed. 

Santiago cleared his throat. “He’d tell you to go after what you wanted, to not have any regrets and just go for it.” 

You felt tears sting your eyes as you thought back to Tom. “Does– Does Tess and Molly know?” 

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Funeral’s this weekend.” 

“I should probably check in on Tess,” you added. “You and the guys need to talk about what happened in Colombia, Santi. If you and Frankie are having a tough time, I can only imagine that Will and Benny are too.”

“Okay,” Santiago sighed before adding, “If it means anything, I’m glad Frankie’s with you.” 

“I wouldn’t want him anywhere else,” you replied honestly. “But he needs you guys more than he needs me right now, and you and I both know that he won’t admit it.” 

“I know,” Santiago said. 

“And if you need anything, I’m here, okay?” 

Santiago let out a relieved sigh. “You’re the glue of this group, do you know that?”

You scoffed. “Yeah, right. You guys go way back.”

“You were the missing piece,” he laughed. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you smiled. “If you want, you, Benny, and Will can come over. Frankie will be here and I can leave for a bit to grab groceries. I can make us dinner.”

Santiago sighed. “I don’t know if the guys wanna see me right now.”

“What happened wasn’t your fault, Santi. It wasn’t anyone’s fault except those two guys who killed Tom.”

“They wouldn’t have even been in Colombia–”

“But you guys were and there’s nothing else that you can do about what’s already been done, Santi. You did your homework and you had this well thought-out plan. You were more than prepared.”

“But that village…”

“That village wasn’t part of your plan. You did what you all thought was right at that moment, but like I said, you and the rest of the guys need to talk this out, or else it’s going to eat at all of you.” 

“Okay,” Santiago said with a sigh. “I’ll call Will and Benny.”

“And Frankie.”

“Okay, and Fish.” 

“I’m serious, Santi.”

“I know, I hear you. I’ll see you tonight.”

Just as you got off the phone, you heard your bedroom door open, followed by the soft sounds of Frankie’s footsteps. He was walking down the hall and to the kitchen, his hair in complete disarray. He looked like he had gotten much more rest than he had been. 

“Morning,” you said with a smile, watching as he rubbed his eyes. 

“Is that coffee I smell?” he replied, his voice much deeper in the mornings.

“It is.” You grabbed two cups and handed him one, turning on your heel to retrieve the coffee pot before you felt Frankie grab your hand and turn you back around, pulling you flush against him. “Frankie…”

He looked down at you, moving his hands to rest on your hips as he rested his forehead against yours. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“For what?” 

“Everything.”

“I might need you to elaborate on that,” you teased.

Frankie chuckled, pulling back enough to press his lips against your forehead. “I want this,” he admitted. “Whatever it takes, I want this. I want you. I want us.” 

---

Part 8.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed, @tanzthompson, @casa-boiardi, @bitchwitch1981, @painitemoondust, @pedritosdarling​, @vanemando15, @kittenlittle24​​​

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

[romanarose]

Triple Frontier Masterlist

A masterlist for all Triple Frontier fics

Tumblr messed up u links so im slowly trying to fix them! anything in bold SHOULD be goo to go. if i miss anything, let me know! If you really wanna readsomething and cant find it searching, send and ask and ill try to find it for you

Santiago "Pope" Garcia

Leather and Lace (Completed): While on a mission, Pope, Fish, Benny and Will find a girl tied up in the basement of a drug lord, a victim of trafficking. She won't hardly talk or look at them. Will she learn to trust Santi? Will he be able to help her? ♥️🖤🌶

Match Made in Heaven: Benny and Will play matchmaker with you and Santi. It works.

Full: At a fundraiser, you are all dressed up and Santi can't help himself.

Santi with a Reader on her Period: You wake up with your period unexpectedly. So unexpected, that you have bled all over your boyfriend and his bed, and freak out. Santi tries to make it better.

Gross Reality: A sorta sequel to the last period fic with Santi but this time with the gross gory details of the reality of periods.

Hello Sunshine, Won’t You Stay?: A song fic to a Bruce Springsteen song for @astroboots fantastic series, Homecoming

Honest Mistake (Co written with the wonderful @missdictatorme) : Santi accidentally forgets your birthday, bringing the delta force on one last mission to not let you find out.

If You Wanna Be Wild ft. Javier Peña: Javi and his new partner, a young Santiago Garcia straight out the military, begin to take down Lorea with the help of Candy, a charming and beautiful prostitute.

Please Don't Go?: You are going through an extreme depressive episode, and Santiago is afraid of leaving you alone.

Benjamin "Benny" Miller

Just to be Your Man: You go to a bar with the express intent of hooking up with someone; something you never do. Will Benny Miller be that man?

Puzzle Pieces: You’re Toms girlfriend and honestly, he’s a dick. All the guys know it, all the guys tell him to be better, but Benny always finds a way to make it better himself.

Part one; You try to show off your finished puzzle

Part Two: Tom won’t look at your tomato’s

William "Ironhead" Miller

Temptation: Redfly’s estranged daughter comes back into his life, and this makes things difficult on Will Miller

Lucky: You are having a tough time, but Will is there for you.

He Didn't Have to Be: You and Will hit it off immediately, but being a single mom but a past, you didn't think that he'd be interested in you. You were wrong, and Will asks you on the sweetest date you could imagine.

For the Longest Time (series): Lorelei is suspicious of everyone around her, especially men. She’s jaded, but keeps running into this man and excepts something to be wrong about him… but he only ever treats her with kindness. When she really needs him, he’s there… but that leads to an unexpected turn in her life. Can she learn to trust him and the kind, loving found family he has?

Francisco "Catfish" Morales

Take Your Time (series): Taking place after Leather and Lace (but not necessary to read Leather and Lace before this), Frankie is struggling with his sobriety, and needs his friends and family to rally around him.

Partner in Crime: you have trouble orgasming, but Frankie is there to help you

Two or More

Awakening Series Masterlist: You find you and Santiago share a mutual fantasy; being shared with his friends

End of the Innocence: Not really a Triple Fontier fic but a fic based off a Triple Frontier fic, do what you must with that. A song Fic for Watch Your Step🖤

Benny Miller X Frankie Morales

Boys of Summer: Told over the series of summers, we follow Benny and Frankie as they meet, fall in love, fall apart, and come back together again.

I Won’t Be Afraid Anymore: A sequel to Boys Of Summer. Benny and Frankie figure things out as promised.

Take Care of You: Frankie wraps Ben’s hands before his fight.

Headcanons

TF Boys with a Reader with an ED

Love Langauges: Acts of Service

Love Languages: Physical Touch

Love Languages: Words of Affirmation

Love Languages: Quality Time

Love Languages: Gift Giving

#Triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #santiago Garcia #Santiago Garcia reader #frankie morales #frankie morales reader #will miller #will miller reader #benjamin miller #benjamin miller reader

[ghostofaboy]

Kinktober 2023 - October 8th

Day 8: Sex Pollen/Fuck or Die, Chastity, Sexual Competition

Frankie 'Catfish' Morales & Benny Miller

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 734

Warnings: oral sex, mentions of cruising

@absurdthirst Kinktober List | Ghost of a Boy Masterlist

Frankie wasn’t sure which of them had suggested this, but he had to admit he was enjoying it. Friendly competition was something he and Benny had always engaged in, and tonight was no different. Not really. OK, well, a little different. Because tonight's competition wasn’t about who could drink the most, or get the most points in a game, or run the fastest, or jump the highest, or any of the other dumb stuff they had done over the years.

Tonight's contest was all about sex. More specifically, who could blow the most guys in one night.

So far, he was at five. Benny was sitting on a measly three. Although glancing around the second bar they had come to, Frankie noticed Benny was nowhere to be seen. Damn it! He was probably already in the bathroom with another guy.

Looking around the bar, Frankie tried to pick out another likely candidate. They had to be careful. Not every guy would appreciate being hit on and after a could of near misses at the last bar, they had left to come here. It wasn’t a gay bar, but Frankie knew that it was close to a cruising spot he sometimes went to. He had hoped that would give him the edge over Benny, but what he hadn’t accounted for was the younger man’s charm and determination to win.

Sure enough, not five minutes later, Benny emerged from the men’s room with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I’m catchin’ up to ya Fish!” He laughed as he took his seat at the table. “That’s four.”

“Asshole.” Frankie smirked, downing his drink and eyeing up the rest of the crowded bar. “Don’t think we’ll get any more here, though.”

“Yeah, same. “ Benny took a long gulp of his beer. “This isn’t over, though. The night is still young. We could head to a gay bar and-”

“Or, we could get a little more direct.” Frankie cut him off, his mind drifting to the cruising spot. “I know a place where guys will come to us. It’ll be a true contest of who can get through the most of them.”

—-------

One hour later and Frankie was up to eleven while Benny was pushing ahead with thirteen. But honestly, Frankie didn’t care. Come trickled down his chin as he opened his mouth for cock number twelve. Twirling his tongue around the head, Frankie flicked the tip against the slit pulling a gasp from the man above him. Opening wider to take the girthy cock Frankie flattened his tongue and get the man slid to the back of his throat. 

Letting the man gag him for a few moments, Frankie pulled back, hollowing his cheeks and applying suction as he went. His lips were red and swollen around the tip as he traced around the head, lapping at the sensitive spots on the underside. The gasps above him told Frankie he was doing a good job, but he needed this to go faster. He needed to get this guy coming quicker if he was going to beat Benny.

Bringing his hand up, Frankie started to work it in time with his mouth with his other hand gently playing with the guy's balls. Parting his lips, Frankie took a deep breath in through his nose before taking the length of the guy's cock into his throat Wet gagging sounds filled the air as Frankie allowed the man to fuck his face. His eyes were watering, and drool ran down his chin and onto his t-shirt, but Frankie kept working. Then, with a moan, a burst of come flooded his mouth.

Pulling back, Frankie grinned up at the man, who mumbled his thanks. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, Frankie looked around for Benny. He was only one behind the younger man now and...

Frankie's smile dropped as he spotted Benny. His squad mate was half naked a few paces away from him, on his knees with two cocks in hand. Fucker was taking guys two at a time now!

Shaking his head, Frankie climbed to his feet, his back and knees groaning in protest. There was no point fucking his knees up even more with no hope of catching up to Benny. He'd won. And as Frankie watched Benny take two cocks in his mouth at once he had to admit, it was a well-earned victory. 

#frankie morales #benny miller #frankie catfish' morales #kinktober #kinktober 2023

[rhoorl]

Week in Review | Dec. 17

Hi, how are you? It was another busy week around these parts both on and off Tumblr, so I’ll get right to the week in review:

Fics I read this week:

Frankie Morales

Gift Wrapped by @linzels-blog - As if the gray sweatpants weren’t enough, we get some dad!Frankie, competency kink, and a return to two characters I am really fond of!

Joel Miller

A Baker's Dozen - Three by @avastrasposts - If you haven't been keeping up with Mel's baking series, I suggest you change that. This entry with Joel made me swoon. 🫠

Nourish by @goodwithcheese - Fluffy Joel plus an Ellie appearance equals a cute fun, read.

Under the Stars by @undercoverpena - This captured post-outbreak life so beautifully!

Dieter Bravo

Give To Me by @sp00kymulderr - If you've read Working Title then you know I have a particular fondness for Dieter, especially when he's sweet and sensitive. This fluffy one-shot hit me in all my Dieter feels.

White Christmas by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin - This had all of the elements I love about Dieter rolled up into one. A sweet, chaotic man who is an absolute menace…all wrapped up in a tiny Santa hat 😉

Giflets

I had a few of these amazing giflets from @morallyinept built up on my TBR

Bad Acting Dieter 💋

Periscope Dave York 🧐

Domestic Spice Marcus Moreno 🌶️

Current Compulsory Series:

These are the series I am keeping up with at the moment.

12 Days of XxxMas (Various) by @morallyinept - I haven’t read these yet but I will this week…I’m not ready.

Holiday Prompts (Various) by @trulybetty - I’ve loved these!! I’m behind on some but I’m excited to see what else is in store for the month.

Delta Palms Tropical Resort (Frankie) by @linzels-blog 

Destiny & Deliverance (Dieter) by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings 

Paranoid Heat (Javi P) by @goodwithcheese I 

Undercover (Tim Rockford) by @secretelephanttattoo 

It’s Never Too Late (Javi P) by @javierpena-inatacvest - 

OTHER CHARACTERS

Pete Dunham

This section is usually reserved for a Garrett character (mostly Benny), but this week I caught up on the Like My Dreams series from @laurfilijames which followed Pete Dunham from Green Street Hooligans. Younger Jess was very obsessed with that movie and Pete and it’s been a fun trip down memory lane to rewatch that movie and then devour this delicious fic!

Posts from the week:

Anyone else lose their minds when they saw this clip/article about Charlie Hunnam signing on as a potential producer for Triple Fronter 2? This has to happen right? Please? I’ll happily take on any role in the production crew.

These “Spot the Difference” posts from @mysterious-moonstruck-musings have been cracking me up.

Where are you sitting in this cafeteria? Me? Oh I’m happily at table 4.

In case you missed it @perotovar and @beskarandblasters put together a list highlighting some awesome writers (and I was so excited to see so many I call friends on the list!)! It was split up into two masterlists: Masterlist 1 | Masterlist 2

We had the return of Professor @legendary-pink-dot and the Catfish Pond PhD Degree Program.

I received a fun holiday-themed Delta Landscaping ask from @trulybetty.

Another plug for the Pickled Peña writing challenge. I actually have something written for this and I kind of like it?! I think it's funny...but that may also be me amused by my 4 a.m. ramblings.

Feral corner:

The Miller Brothers reunited and seeing both Charlie and Garrett in a suit gave me so many thots. Garrett going and making smoking look hot again … I don’t even know where to look here - the bun, the shoulders, the back.

This photo is so Working TItle Dieter coded I can’t even deal! Speaking of Dieter…here’s more of my boo. Actually, I’m not done, here’s another gifset.

Javi P is getting jealous so let’s get some Javi with messy hair in here. Oh what’s that? Some post-outbreak denim shirt-wearing Joel? I got you. But then Young Joel gets jealous so here’s some photos of his arms. And I can’t forget about my favorite pilot.

Things I watched:

Last Sunday I went to the movies and saw Wish. I thought it was a really cute movie and as a Disney fan I loved al of the little Easter eggs hidden throughout. I thought the songs were really cute too, it was a fun time and I can’t wait to show Baby Rhoorl this movie.

I was up late plotting and thotting one night and was flipping through the channels for some background noise and came across Troy and saw Baby Garrett. Seeing him next to Brad Pitt was quite a sight - they play cousins in the movie if you haven’t seen it. 

Personal Stuff

There’s been a lot happening at work this month and it’s derailed a bit of the progress I’ve been making on my health journey but I’m doing the best I can. I ran a few days this week, which was good! Mr Rhoorl and I had a date night and enjoyed a baby-free dinner out at a restaurant. 

Fic updates:

I put out a new episode of Delta Landscaping this week. Here’s a moodboard I made for it!

Benny Miller brain rot has settled into my brain and he’s all I can think about at the moment. As a result, I have a holiday-themed one-shot planned for tomorrow. Hoping to get an entry in one of my other series done this week, but we’ll see. 

I hope you have a great week! Drink some water and find something that makes you smile.

Masterlist

Working Title (Dieter, series, ongoing) | AO3 

Delta Landscaping (Triple Frontier, series, ongoing) | AO3

Turbulence (Frankie, one-shot) | AO3

Are You on Mute? (Benny Miller, one-shot) | AO3

Are You on Mute? Part Two

Are You Alone

#rhoorl week in review #rhoorl fic rec #pedro pascal characters fic #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[floral-force]

Hi! I love your work and I have seen that you are looking for Frankie Morales requests. So I'm here.

I was thinking about post break up Frankie and the prompt "i was made to love you." Maybe he fucked up, but they have kid so they have to see each other often and he just can't make himself love somebody else. So maybe getting together again?

ok so fair warning this is very angsty (but it has a happy ending I promise). I was in a mood while writing this, but I'm happy with how it turned out. this was a great way to practice frankie, especially since I love soft!frankie. I hope you enjoy this, nonnie! ♥️

requests are open! send me an ask!

I Was Made to Love You

francisco "catfish" morales x f!reader

summary: Frankie’s mistake cost him your relationship and your love. You remain connected through co-parenting your daughter, but you never forgave him for what he did. Despite it all, something still remains, waiting to be discovered.

words: 2k+

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY/NO MINORS, infidelity, angst (with a happy ending), soft!frankie, mentions of pregnancy and labor (nothing graphic/detailed), brief mention of sobriety/implied past addiction, mother!reader, I'm bad at titles

read on ao3 | fic masterlist

You got up from your spot on the couch to answer the door. As soon as you opened it, you were greeted with a squeal from your smiling daughter, Isabella. You crouched down and scooped her into your arms with an oof.

“Hmph—Baby girl, you’re getting so big! Mommy won’t be strong enough to hold you soon,” you laughed, running your finger across her small, soft cheek.

She pouted and your breath caught in your throat. She had Frankie’s mouth, and her little pout was nearly identical to his. It always threw you off and reminded you of one of your first dates, back when you were both young and in your mid-twenties. You’d gone to the aquarium together, and he threw that look your way to get you to buy something dumb for him—a goofy fish plushie that made him smile like a dork. You were going to get it anyway, but you couldn’t resist when he gave you that puppy dog face.

Sometimes, in the pictures he sent you of Isabella, she was holding it.

You dated for four years, and he proposed just a month before you showed him a positive pregnancy test. Isabella was definitely not planned, and both of you always thought you’d live a childless life, but something must have changed. Frankie became a different person after you both discussed whether to continue the pregnancy or terminate it and chose to keep it. He’d been sober for a few years at that point and made even more of an effort to stay committed to it.

“For you, and for my little girl,” he’d said, placing a calloused hand on your bump.

“How do you know it’s a girl, Frankie?”

He’d shrugged and gave you that sly smirk you adored. “Just do.”

Frankie was right and made sure you never forgot about. He’d let out a cheer at that appointment, getting a stern glance from you that instantly cracked when you saw how joyful he was. You’d never seen him that happy. It had brought tears to your eyes, and it still did when the memory randomly crossed your mind.

He built her crib, saying he’d tell her one day about how her mom was constantly pulling splinters out of his hands. Frankie read all the books he could. Went to every appointment. Comforted you when everything hurt, got you whatever you were craving, told you how much he loved you and how beautiful you were. Frankie was there the entire time you were in labor, never leaving the room unless you—not the doctor, not the nurses, you—told him to. 

“What if I’m a bad mom?” You’d asked one night, still catching your breath from the orgasm he’d just coaxed out of you.

“Don’t say that,” he’d murmured against your neck, pressing hot kisses into your skin. “You’re the most incredible, beautiful, and caring person I know. You’re going to be a great mom.”

Frankie was a fighter, a protector, and stubborn as hell. You loved him dearly for it, and loved the way he made you feel special and adored. Around others, he was quiet, but you didn’t mind. His hand was always holding yours or on the small of your back. He wasn’t afraid to show you his intense enthusiasm and endless affection for you—not just during your pregnancy, but throughout your relationship. That made it even harder to accept what you saw on his phone that night in December. 

You’d called off the engagement when Isabella was just a month old; she’d been asleep in her crib when you confronted him about the woman who was texting him nudes—and why he was responding. You asked him why it’d been going on since your second trimester, why he did it, how he could hurt you like this. He’d begged for your forgiveness, but it was too late. He sobbed when you told him he had 3 days to pack up his stuff and leave. In an act of mercy, you told him he needed to remain in Isabella’s life. You refused to let your daughter grow up without her father, even if he’d crushed your heart under his boots.

To his credit, Frankie was a man of his word—when it came to Isabella, at least. He always picked her up when he was supposed to, made sure to get a two-bedroom apartment and fill her room with toys and books, and spent as much time as he could with her now before co-parenting became difficult with preschool on the horizon. She had just turned 3, and in the spring, you were going to start looking at programs. 

For now, though, you planted a kiss on her forehead and smiled at her adorable giggle.

“Isabella, why don’t you go up and say hi to your stuffies?” You set her down and she nodded, her eyes twinkling up at you. 

You watched her climb up the stairs, then turned to face Frankie. He’d set her small duffel bag down inside the door, his feet still planted on the cement of your porch. You saw his Adam’s apple bob with a hard swallow, noticed his fists clench. His ratty green shirt complimented the golden skin you used to run your fingers over, the mossy shade one you’d always loved on him. You had a sneaking suspicion this was one of the shirts you’d gifted him all those years ago. He stared at you with big doe eyes, adjusting his navy blue ballcap and disturbing his dark brown hair with a shaking hand.

“Thanks for taking care of her this week,” you said, breaking the tense silence. “I know it was really last minute, but my mom needed me home.”

“Of course,” he replied, that gravelly voice that you used to love hearing whether it was whispered in your ear or moaning it into the night tugging at something within your chest. “Anything for her.”

You nodded and looked at your feet as you rocked back and forth, crossing your arms. Defending yourself from him. There was something brewing inside of him, and it was about to spill over—you could see it in his nervous swallows, the way he cleared his throat, how he shifted and hunched his shoulders forward. It was never good news when he got anxious like this. He always complained about your intuition, but you told Frankie that he was just easy to read. You loved that about him.

He said your name, his voice cracking. You looked up at him, meeting his glassy gaze.

“Listen, I—I—” he groaned and clenched his jaw, squeezing his eyes shut. He looked back up at you with watery chestnut eyes, and you inhaled sharply. Goddamn, those eyes. “Fuck, I—I don’t know how to say it.”

“Hey,” you said softly. “Just say it, Frankie.”

He took a deep breath and looked straight into your eyes. “I can’t live without you.” 

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “You didn’t have this epiphany before you traded pics with that—that—” you shook your head and lowered your voice. “I don’t have the fucking time for this. I’ll see you next week.”

You went to push the door closed, something tightening in your chest—sadness? Anger? Grief? You didn’t want to keep looking at him, you knew that much. Before you could even move it an inch, his large palm slapped against the wood and stopped it. You glared at him and clenched your jaw. 

“Please, listen to me.”

“And why should I?” you spat. 

“Because I love you, dammit!” He raised his voice, something he rarely did. He didn’t even do it when you confronted him that snowy night. Frankie rubbed the back of his neck and his voice wavered when he said your name. “I never stopped loving you.”

You felt your body shaking, your eyes watering. You gripped the edge of the door and looked him dead in the eyes, hoping he could feel the anger radiating off you.

“If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have broken my fucking heart. You wouldn’t have cheated on your fiancée while she was 20 fucking weeks pregnant.” You felt your lip begin to quiver. You hissed, “I was carrying your goddamn baby while you were fucking her over the phone, Frankie!”

“And I’ll never forgive myself.” He stated. You saw tears slide down his cheeks, both red with emotion. “I think about it every fucking day. I think about you every day.”

You looked up at the doorframe and gazed out at the sunset sky, clouds painted in oranges and reds with splashes of golden yellow. You chuckled in disbelief and put a fist on your hip. “Should’ve thought about that before you got her number at a bar.”

“Do you really think I’d do half the shit I do for you if I didn’t love you?” he snapped, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. The sight of it made one roll down your hot cheek. “I don’t have to come over and fix a leaky pipe or help you negotiate at the dealership. I could just fuckin’ tell you to ask your dad or call a plumber.” 

Frankie sighed and slumped his shoulders forward in defeat. A part of you liked seeing him hurt like this, like you had—but another part of you ached with him, yearned with him. When you remained silent, sniffing and wiping your nose and cheeks with the sleeve of your cardigan, his face broke and he looked exactly as he had three years ago when you’d railed into him. Broken, anxious, uncertain—something Frankie never was.

“Frankly, I don’t think you hate me if you still text me and ask for my help.” Frankie’s lip shook and he rubbed his hand across his scruff-covered jaw. “I think a part of you still loves me, too.”

You clenched your jaw and snapped, “I’m polite with you because of Isa—”

“No, no.” Frankie interjected. He waved his hand and gave you a somber shake of his head as he said your name. “I know you. You can’t hide how you feel, even when Isabella is in your arms.” He chuckled, something sad underneath it. “You never could.”

You hated that he was always fucking right. It made you straighten and purse your lips. “Then what, Frankie? What do we do?”

“I have no damn clue,” he admitted with a shy smile. 

It reminded you of the one he’d given you on your first date. He didn’t know it then, but he’d had your heart from the first smile he sent your way. Boyish and sweet but rugged at the same time, hardened and aged beyond his years. Charming without trying, whether he knew it or not.

“All I know is, I was made to love you.” 

Your sob got caught in your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut and felt tears start to stream down your face like waterfalls. Frankie’s rough thumbs wiped them away, just liked they had so many times before. He still remembered that you loved it when he stroked them across the top of your cheeks, his other fingers gently laying over the lower half of them and gracing along your jaw. You didn’t push him away or ask him to stop. 

Why was he always right? Maybe you were easier to read than you thought. Or, maybe, you were made for Frankie, and he was made for you. You opened your eyes to see his only inches away, the corners of his crinkled with a gentle smile. Those soft lips, that sweet voice speaking your name, those crying eyes—they were yours as much as they were his. That tight string in your chest snapped, and you realized that although you may not forgive him for what he did, you still loved him. And you wanted to start again.

When you nodded and smiled through your tears, Frankie grinned like he had when you found out you were having a girl. Joy at the thought of starting something new and from the thrill of being right about something you doubted. Joy only you could ever spark within him. The thought of that made you warm inside. It would take time, that was for damn sure. But you were willing to try. You were made for this man as much as he was made for you.

reblogs and comments are so appreciated! I love hearing what y'all have to say <3

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taglist:

@hardlystrictlystarwars, @hrtsforpascal @notsosecretspy

#thanks for the request! #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie catfish morales x reader #francisco morales x you #francisco morales x reader #triple frontier fic #francisco catfish morales fic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie catfish morales angst #my fic #filled request

[nervoushottee]

IMPORTANT: This blog is 18+ MDNI!! If you don’t have age on your blog then I will block it.

*Inbox and messages are always open!*

Joel Miller

Series:

Flaws and All: You and Joel get caught in a blizzard while traveling. Cooped up in a cabin that is a bit of a fixer upper, the two of you learn how to grow with one another. In the process of waiting out the blizzard, you both have no choice but to accept each other, flaws and all. And maybe, just maybe find more in each other than just a travel partner. Will be Explicit in future chapters

A Solemn Promise: Joel thought he had lost it all. That the cruel bitter world had taken away his heart and soul piece by piece until there was nothing left. Everything he cared so deeply for gone. Turning him into a complicated man with a complicated heart. But when he has to travel across the country with a young girl and his girlfriend that he thought was dead. Maybe, just maybe his broken heart and soul can mend.

Oneshot

A Shot of Whiskey: (Explicit) You didn't think Joel would take you up on your offer. But here you were getting fucked in the bathroom stall of the bar.

Lucien Flores

Oneshot:

Kill the Lights: (Explicit) Lucien Flores is your older brother's bestfriend and to you he was always off limits and vice versa. Until one night that changes... (insipred by the song "De Selby part 2 by Hozier")

Frankie "Catfish" Morales

Series:

Good Trouble: You and the Miller brothers have known each other since childhood. But the years go by and time moves on and the three of you are grown up. But what happens when they come home to visit and the two friends they bring along with them catch your eye?? (Frankie/Santiago/Reader)

Santiago "Pope" Garcia

Series:

Good Trouble: You and the Miller brothers have known each other since childhood. But the years go by and time moves on and the three of you are grown up. But what happens when they come home to visit and the two friends they bring along with them catch your eye?? (Frankie/Santiago/Reader)

Steve Harrington

Series:

The Summer Before: You and the gang decide to take a trip together before you all go your separate ways after summer is over. You’re excited for a reset away from Hawkins. Away from your problems and responsibilities. But one of the problems that you can’t seem to find the answer to went with you and it’s Steve Harrington. Conversations about old times and second chances wasn’t something you really planned on doing but here you are.  The days will be light and warm. Trips to the lake and burgers on the grill. The nights will feel long filled with laughter, beers, unwanted truths and tattoos you won’t remember getting the next day. Secrets will be spilled and tears will be shed.  A last hooray at the end of the summer while everyone was still together.  This should be fun. Right?

Oneshot:

Take Care: Steve wakes up from a nightmare that scares him a lot more than usual. The two of you frantically decide in the middle of night to get out of Hawkins. Even if it’s just for a little while.

Go For It: Steve has been your “movie guy” at Family Video for a while now. Little does he know that the main reason you’ve been buying these movies is to flirt with him and just maybe ask him out…

Illicit Affairs: You wish you were enough for Steve, but he will always want Nancy. (inspired by "Illicit Affairs by Taylor Swift")

Steddie

Oneshot:

This or That: (Explicit) You can't seem to figure out what you like better between Steve and Eddie.

Series

Folklore: In which nervoushottee creates a series of fanfics insipred by the songs from Folklore by Taylor Swift

dividers by @saradika

#steve harrington #joel miller #steve harrington fic #joel miller x reader #frankie morales fanfiction #santiago garcia fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #joel miller fanfic #nervoushotteechats #steddie x reader imagine #steve and eddie #lucien flores x reader

[prolix-yuy]

what is frankie's favourite part about being with ms jackson? is it finally feeling settled? 🥺

Lissie, what a great freakin 'ask. I’m so glad you’re curious about how Ms Jackson makes Frankie feel, since we all know what she thinks. Let’s take a little dive in.

There You Are

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

Summary: What is Frankie’s favorite part about being with Ms Jackson?

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: M, past Sex Worker!Frankie, watch me make up shit about sex work, implied other Triple Frontier Boys!Sex Workers, allusions to sexual acts. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Cross-posted on AO3

Sex Worker!Frankie AU Series Masterlist

Frankie told you that he fell in love with you the first time you met, which you accepted with a smirk and some mild disbelief. And maybe that is simplifying it too much, calling it “love at first sight.”

But a lot of things led up to that first night.

To start, it had been a long time since Santi had called Frankie about a client. Not just because of the coke; demand just wasn’t that high for what the boys offered. And when someone did call, it was more likely Santi would send Benny their way.

I’m looking for someone fit, young, strong. A little wild if you have that. I want my world rocked.

Well, Frankie didn’t exactly know what people asked for when Santi sent Will or Benny, but he assumed it was something like that. He knew that his best days were starting to be further behind him than in front of him. His beard has more grays in it now, his jawline not as sharp. He used to be able to wear a mustache well, but last time he shaved he worried his face was looking too much like a little abuela’s to do it again. His hair is starting to thin, which keeps his trusty Standard Oil cap on his head. Soft in the face, around his middle, and maybe more in his heart than he’s ready to admit.

As thick as he thought his skin was, it still hurts to see the disappointment in a client’s eyes when they open the door and he’s not what they’re hoping for. It’s fast, the mask of politeness coming up to cover the confusion, or the disappointment. He always leaves them as satisfied as he can, even more than they expected if possible, to try and chase that look from his mind.

Too old.

Too big.

Too cautious.

Too Frankie.

The boys reassure him that he’s still got it, but watching Benny in boxing practice, all corded muscle and lightning reflexes, makes his soft stomach clench. Frankie bets he looks good no matter what lighting he’s in. That the clients he beds must love looking at his body. 

Fuck, he should work out more.

Seeing Will’s skilled hands taking apart the guts of a Harley, fingers quick and nimble, eyes sharp as he scours for problems, makes Frankie’s thick fingers feel clumsy. He must be able to pinpoint exactly what his clients want, read their bodies to know when to speed up, where to press and stroke to elicit the highest peaks. Frankie sometimes worries he’s all big hands and power over precision, no matter how many times his fingers have been complimented as long and talented and so much better than their own. 

Whenever Frankie has to don reading glasses at the end of the night, eyes exhausted and blurry, the idea that he’s even getting too old for his other profession gnaws at him. By the time he’s off probation and able to reapply for his pilot's license, his vision might be too far gone. The best years of his life squandered because he couldn’t keep it together without a line or two. He’s lost his glasses under the couch several times, sweeping them off the table with frustration.

Too blind.

Too clumsy.

Not what a client wants.

Santi always gives it to him straight, so when he asks why Benny is still getting the random client here and there and Frankie isn’t, he contemplates the answer over the top of his beer bottle before answering.

“It’s all about the people who call, Fish. I’m not just choosing for them, I’m choosing for you too. I don’t want to give you just any job that might…” Santi raises his eyebrows, the implication silent.

A job that might tempt him back to old habits. That might trigger him to turn back on the year of sobriety just to quiet his mind. A client who throws a callous word or a session that goes sideways and pulls at Frankie’s restraint and hard work.

Frankie hates that even after all he’s done, there’s still a fine thread of doubt sewn into the friendship between them. He wishes he could snap it, pull it free from the fabric, but it’s holding closed a larger wound he’s unwilling to open. 

Santi doesn’t trust him after the coke.

Frankie doesn’t trust him after Colombia.

They both have threads the other won’t pull. The risk is too great.

Santi’s eyes are kind when he slaps Frankie on the shoulder, jostling his warming beer and veering away from the topic.

“I also don’t want to give you someone who isn’t going to appreciate you and what you bring to the table,” he says. Frankie scoffs, sipping some of the foam off the lip of the bottle. “I mean it, you’re good at pleasing people, from the reviews I’ve heard, and it kills me when you come back miserable.” Santi watches Frankie with an openness that makes the man squirm, deferring with a nod and an, “Okay, sure.” Santi shakes his head.

“Fish, I promise the next client I send you will be because I think it’s a good match.”

How right Santi had been about that.

When Frankie got the call in the late afternoon, ambling out to his truck to head home from the shop, he had to make Santi repeat himself.

“You want me for a client?”

“Yeah, cabrón, are you free?”

Frankie’s mouth dried out a little at the thought. It had been four months since he’d gone home with a girl from a bar, which was…fine. She was nice, they parted amicably late in the evening. Before that, there was only one client that preferred to be taken from behind. Minimal small talk. Fast and rough and quiet. He was toweling off in the hotel bathroom as the door shut behind her.

Maybe it was time he hung up the mantle.

“Why me?” he finally asked, cringing at how small the words made him feel. Santi’s warm chuckle on the other end of the phone eased a little of his anxiety.

“She’s different from my usuals, and I think you’ll be a good fit. Not looking for sex, just someone to spend some time with her. Take care of her a little bit. Sound familiar?” Frankie blushes and huffs at the insinuation. Santi always teased him for how he treated his past girlfriends. “Puppy Dog Morales,” he would croon when he caught Frankie doting on them. Didn’t really roll off the tongue, but “STD Santi” did when Frankie tossed it out after another one-night stand that had Santi limping back home.

Frankie took a breath, trying to shift into the headspace to meet a client. He’d need at least an hour to get home and shower, make sure he was well groomed and neat. Then travel to wherever she was, negotiate what she wanted, and…get to work.

The little thrum of excitement in his chest moved him to speak. 

“Yeah, I’m free.”

Standing in front of your door, Frankie calms his racing mind. This is far from the first time he’s stood at the edge of the cliff, steeling himself for whatever reaction might come when the door opens. It’s always there, though, like a burst of stage fright before the leading man steps onto stage, all smiles and confidence. It is a sort of performance, after all, and the nerves leading up to it are only half due to being naked in short order.

Big, dopey, soft Frankie needs to be exactly what the woman on the other side of this door wants, and he pulls his mind into the pilot’s focus he’s honed over the years. 

He knocks. The knob twists.

And you’re there.

At first glance he’s attracted to you. To your proportions, your bright eyes, your smile. Then to the nervous energy he can feel coming off of you, endearing and bashful. It makes him want to calm all your fears, soothe you with his hands. You’re the perfect size to be wrapped up in his arms. 

Frankie nods at you, filling the doorway with his too-big body, his broad shoulders and his thick thighs and soft stomach and his aging face. He smiles, the practiced lopsided one that makes him look sexy rather than his larger, more scrunched-up happy one, and says hello.

And it’s here when it happens. When Frankie says it was love at first sight, this is the moment he thinks of. Because you look at him, your eyes passing over all of the things that make him feel self-conscious, and your face only says one thing.

There you are.

It’s an expression filled with relief, with amazement, with excitement and trepidation but also with such a sense of satisfaction at the man standing before you that it takes Frankie’s breath away.

There you are.

Like you were waiting just for him.

There you are.

Like you want exactly what he has to give and you are so happy he’s here for you.

Frankie has to redirect, make a little joke to ease the hammering pressure of his heart behind his ribs.

“Can I come in? Or is this a little too much? I can take a lap if you want.”

And then you stutter and smile and he’s a goner.

He still sees it now in the moments that day-to-day life presents. 

On the first date you went on after the session, you opened the door with that same expression and Frankie had to kiss you right then and there across your threshold. You squeaked against his lips, a smile tugging your mouth tight as he pressed your foreheads together.

Then later that night when he holds your gaze as you’re coming down from another peak. You whisper, “Are you real? You can’t be real, you’re too fucking amazing,” and he chuckles and nips at your chin, heart fluttering separate from exertion.

Walking into your kitchen with takeout a few minutes late, you spinning around and making grabby hands for a hug. 

At a bar after a long day when you see him across the room, tension melting from you.  

When you tell him how sexy he looks in his thick black frames and he tries to defer the compliment, you threaten to prove to him exactly how much he turns you on.

Frankie doesn’t mind the glasses as much after that.

You feel like home to him. No matter who he is, what he’s done, how he feels, you always look at him like he’s exactly what you need.

During one of Benny’s fights, when Frankie’s focus is far away thinking about how he compares to the men around him, you catch his eye.

“There you are, handsome,” you say, squeezing his bicep with a cheeky smile. “Thought I lost you for a minute there.”

Frankie pulls you into his side, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Never, babe,” he murmurs into your ear.

What’s Frankie’s favorite part about Ms Jackson?

That she makes him feel like he belongs with her every single day.

END

Want to know more about Frankie? Send me an ask! Your question, headcanon or prompt may become the next part of the story. If you've already submitted one, it takes me a few weeks to answer so keep a lookout for yours!

The story continues in Future Days

#lovely reader! #littleferal #francisco catfish morales x f reader #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fanfictions #triple frontier fanfic #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fic #francisco morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x you #frankie catfish morales x reader #sw!Frankie

[albertasunrise]

Hey, how's it going? I sent a post with a request, because I thought that explaining it would be too long. Sorry! :)

Skip to the Good Part

Masterlist

Relationship: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I chose not to give any… this is 18+ so underage peoples. Stay away!! I love love loved this request and I hope I did it justice. 🥰

Fic Requests - Masterlist

The music was loud. 

Why did it have to be so loud? 

The was not his usual scene even if the music was to his taste but Benny and Will had dragged him out for what they'd promised to be a night of fun. This was not what he considered fun. He knew why they were doing it. He'd been wallowing since his girlfriend of four years had upped and left him a few months back. He knew he needed to move on but he had been struggling to do that. He was starting to think there was no hope for him when it came to love. 

He was damaged goods. 

He was an ex-army pilot with little or nothing to show for it. Sure he had a few medals but he also had PTSD and was a recovering coke addict. 

What a catch. 

He sipped on his beer as the Miller brothers talked about Ben's upcoming fights and how Will's wedding plans were coming along. Frankie had tuned out a while ago, choosing to just stare at the torn label on his budweizer.

"Hey, Fish." Ben nudged, trying to get the man's attention "Yo, Catfish." He said a little louder, finally catching the man's attention.

"What?" 

"Curvy Latino chick checking you out," Will stated, motioning with his head and Frankie looked around to see you smiling sweetly at him as you sipped at your drink. 

"She's way to young for me." Frankie scoffed and the boys groaned 

"You're not that old Fish!" Ben argued. 

"Coming from the guy who's in his early thirties." Frankie gibed and Will groaned. 

"You're only two years older than me so does that make me old?" Will asked and Frankie just shook his head. 

"Go on." Ben pushed "It doesn't have to turn into anything serious." 

"I dunno." 

"God, you're lame." Ben mocked and Frankie just gave him the finger before returning to his beer. 

...

"Who do you keep staring at?" Your friend asked as her eyes followed your gaze to a table where three guys were sitting "Oooo, they're hot. Which blonde you got your eye on?" 

"Not the blondes." You said simply, taking a sip of your bud.

"Hat dude?" She asked and you nodded shyly.

"Looks a little old." She said and your brows drew together as you shook your head. 

"I don't think so." 

"Well go speak to him!" She pushed and you simply shook your head again. 

"He won't be interested in me." 

"Why the hell not?" Your friend exclaimed and you sighed. 

"Because he's hot and I'm not... Guys like him don't go for fat girls like me." 

...

"Come on Frank, she's been checking you out all night." Ben drove "She's clearly into you so just go and talk to her." 

"She's got to be like half my age." He scoffed and Ben gave his brother an exasperated look. 

"If she was half your age, she wouldn't be here." Will pointed out "Seriously man what's stopping you? You deserve to have fun." 

"I need another beer." Was all Fish could say before he got up from the table and made his way over to the bar. 

...

This was your chance. You watched him as he got up and walked to the bar and then you noted how your drink had run dry. 

"I'm going to get another drink." You said, smiling at your friend "Another?" 

"I'm good." She said as she waved her almost full bottle at you. 

"Okay. Be right back." You said before making your wave over to the bar and standing next to the man who'd been the object of your desires all evening. 

He was even more gorgeous up close. Soft brown curls that poked out from beneath his hat and a strong jaw that had your mouth watering. Your moment was disturbed when a drunk guy barged into you from behind and you were forced into the man you admired, leading him to spill his drink all over the bar. 

"Shit... Sorry I... The guy pushed me and I-" 

"It's fine." The man assured you as he grabbed a napkin to mop the beer that had spilt onto his hand. 

"Let me get you another." You pleaded "It's the least I can do." 

"Seriously it's..." He stopped in his tracks when he realised who you were. 

Up close you were even prettier than he'd expected and he felt his heart race as looked at you. Suddenly he'd run out of things to say. 

"Please." You pleaded with your big eyes and he found he couldn't say no to you. 

"Sure." He managed to say finally and you grinned at him. 

"Great." You beamed before asking the barman for two more beers, silently psyching yourself up to talk to him again "Can I confess something to you?" 

He just looked at you like a fish out of water and you chuckled before taking that as an invitation to continue. 

"Well, I've been trying to pluck up the courage to come talk to you for most of the night. I don't usually do this sort of thing." 

"Really?" He asked, a little taken aback. 

'Yeah, I uh... Well, you're really hot and-"

"Wanna dance?" He asked and you were shocked by his question. 

"S-sure." You said, picking up your beer and taking a large swig before accepting his hand and heading to the dance floor just as 'Pour some sugar on me' started to blast through the speakers.  

You were then more shocked at how good he was. At first glance, he didn’t seem like the dancing type but then he was pulling you against him and swaying his hips in time with the music, his mouth cemeteries away from your neck. You felt yourself get lost in this moment with him, your body flush against him as he led your movements. Suddenly you felt a wave of confidence flow over you and you turned in his arms, eyes flitting between his, and his lips. 

Then the distance was closed.

His lips were soft and he tasted like the beer he’d been drinking. His moustache was a new feeling for you but one you welcomed as you moaned into the kiss, an ache starting to grow between your thighs. The kiss started to get more passionate and you knew then that you had to have him. Even if it was just for one night. 

Cheering pulled you both from the kiss and you both looked in unison at his two blonde friends cheering the two of you on. 

“Get in there Fishsticks!!” Ben cheered and Frankie rolled his eyes. 

“Fishsticks?” You questioned, smirking at him. 

“My name’s Francisco… or Frankie if you like.” He said, looking at you shyly and you smiled. 

“Nice to meet you, Francisco.” You purred, giving him your own name in return “Would you like to get out of here?… My apartment's only two blocks over.” 

“Shit, really?” He practically panted, eyes darkening as his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. 

“Wanna show me what else you can do with these hips?” You asked, surprising yourself with your confidence. 

“Shit.” He groaned before kissing you again and you chuckled against his lips. 

“Take that as a yes?” 

His eager nodding was all you needed. You told him you were going to let your friend know you were leaving and he did the same. Five minutes later you were both sprinting out of the club, stopping every few moments to kiss each other breathless. 

When you finally made it to your apartment, you’d only just made it through the front door before he was on you. His lips were on your neck as his hands travelled over the dips and valleys of your body, pulling musical sounds from you. Normally you'd be conscious of the fact that your stomach wasn't flat and that your thighs were thick but the way he looked at you seemed to wash away all those anxieties. The more skin he revealed, the more ravenous he seemed to be for you. 

Clothes were removed and left haphazardly all over the apartment as the two of you stumbled to your bedroom. You both giggled and moaned as you bumped into things and kissed each other to distraction, collapsing onto your bed. Your heart sped up as he kissed down your body, lavishing your plump breasts and nipples with attention before making his way down to where you wanted him most. 

"Fuck." You groaned as he dove in face first, licking and sucking at your centre as he slipped two thick fingers into your heat. 

He grinned against you as you writhed beneath him, singing his name as you crested. Then you were grabbing at him, desperate to feel him and he was happy to grant it. As he slipped inside of you and swallowed your moans, you both felt complete, like you’d been each other's missing piece all this time. He took it slow at first. The gentle rocking of his hips allows you to adjust to him but before long you’re begging him to fuck you harder. Then he’s fucking you into the mattress and you’re at his mercy. He pulls sounds from you that you’ve never made before and pulls more orgasms from you than you can count. 

Finally, when he’s nearing his own, he switches angles one final time and rubs your clit, eyes stripping you bear with his dark gaze. 

“One more Hermosa.” He purred and that was all it took to have you cumming around him again. Pulling him right along with you. 

Then he collapsed bonelessly onto the bed beside you and you rolled on your side to face him. You gazed at each other for a while, smiling sweetly as you admired one another. 

“Wanna stay?” You asked, grinning at him “I have bacon and make a mean cup of coffee.” 

“Sounds great.” 

~ 

2 weeks later…

“You heard from that chick from the club at all?” Asked Ben over breakfast before stuffing his mouth full of bacon. 

Frankie simply shook his head. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed that he’d not heard from you but you’d never said it was more than that. The following morning had been just as perfect. You'd cooked him a lovely breakfast and chatted to him as if he'd always been there, it had felt so natural. He'd dared allow himself to think that perhaps something more could happen between the two of you but in reality, he'd shared an incredible night with you and that was all it was to be. 

Was probably for the best.

“You could call her?” Will suggested and Frankie sighed. 

“I don’t have her number. I gave her mine and she said she’d text me.” The man said, unable to hide how dejected he felt “Guess it just meant more to me.” 

“She could still text!” Will said and Frankie shrugged. 

“Yeah maybe.” 

… 

You read and re-read your message over and over and over. It would be so easy to just press send but you were nervous. 

It had been two weeks since you’d shared that amazing night with Frankie. You’d told him you would text him but then work got busy and before you knew it a fortnight had passed. Taking a deep breath, you hovered your thumb over the send icon and pressed it, praying your message would be well received. 

… 

Frankie’s attention was grabbed by his phone lighting up. Knowing it was probably one of the guys he ignored it at first but when it dinged a few hours later, his interest was piqued. It was from a number he didn’t recognise but when he opened the message, his heart sped up. 

Hi 

The message started along with your name. 

I know this is a little late and I’m super sorry. Work got mad and before I knew it… well, anyway, I had an amazing night with you and I was kinda hoping that you’d maybe like to go out for dinner with me sometime? Completely understand if you don’t want to but thought I’d ask. 

He smiled at your message, feeling his heart flutter at it and then he saw the next message you’d sent. 

Message received 

He started to panic then. He definitely wanted to go out to dinner with you but now you were sitting in your apartment thinking the opposite. So he didn’t hesitate to message you back. 

Hi, sorry, I only just saw this! 

He started, trapping his lip between his teeth as he continued his text to you. 

Don’t worry about it, life gets in the way. I would love to go to dinner with you. 

He waited a moment before three little dots appeared in the corner. Smiling as he awaited his reply. 

Hi, shit… wow really? 

Popped up and he smirked at it. 

Sorry about my earlier message. I regretted sending it as soon as I did it. I’m not needy I swear. I’ve just never asked a guy out before and I got all stupid. 

You’re fine. When you free? 

Tomorrow night? 

Perfect 

He was grinning from ear to ear at the knowledge he was going to see you again tomorrow. He’d given up all hope of hearing from you so to see that message from you had given him a boost he didn’t know he needed. He wasn’t sure what would come out of this but he was excited to find out. 

…

You had changed your outfit about six times in the last half an hour. You'd agreed on a time and place with Frankie. A small burger joint you knew close by so you didn't need to dress up in anything fancy. Yet you still wanted to impress him. After that night you'd not been able to stop thinking about how everything you'd done together felt so right. Sure he was older than you but that honestly didn't bother you. You knew it was going to bother your parents but you'd be lying if you said you cared about that. 

An hour later you were making your way to the restaurant, spotting him standing outside. He was looking around nervously and you couldn't help but smile as you checked him out. He'd made an effort too. Smart burgundy shirt and dark jeans that hugged his cute little ass. 

"Hey." You said when you were in earshot of him and he smiled sweetly at you. 

"Hey." He replied before the two of you shared a look, caught in a moment before you both just went for it. 

The kiss was exactly how you'd remembered it. Soft yet firm and you felt yourself melt into it as he pulled you closer. Then it ended and you were both left breathless as he rested his forehead against yours. 

"Missed you too." You chuckled and he grinned at you. 

"Shall we?" He asked as he motioned to the door and you nodded before heading in as he held the door open for you. 

You were both seated in a booth that allowed you to sit together as you talked about your lives. You learned that he was ex-army. That he'd flown helicopters and that he was now flying choppers for a local sky tours company. He seemed to enjoy the work. 

"Still get to fly but I don't get shot at anymore." He joked and you smiled at that. 

You then told him about how you had moved here from Brazil when you were six but you were still fluent in Portuguese. He then told you about his Chilean roots and how he had moved here at a similar age. As the evening went on, you learned that you both shared a lot in common. You liked the same books, movies, music, food... even cleaning brands. Talking to him was the easiest thing in the world and he felt the same about you but there was one thing that was hanging over his head. 

"So, what do you want?" He asked and your brow pulled together in obvious confusion "Like, what are your plans for the future?" 

"Are you asking me if I want this to become something serious?" You pushed and he shrugged. 

"I'm a lot older than you." He stated plainly "You have so much ahead of you. You don't want to waste your time on a washed-up ex-soldier like me." 

"What makes you think that?" 

"I just know." He said sadly and your heart broke for him a little. 

"Francisco." You started, taking his hand "I know I'm young but trust me when I tell you that I want something serious. I've dated and I've been let down and I don't want that anymore. I want something solid and I think that I can have that with you... Well if you want that too." 

"I do." He said, almost too quickly and you smiled at him "I'm ready for it all." 

"Good." You replied with a smile "Me too!" 

...

2 years later...

You weren't sure how you were going to explain this one. As you stared at the two positive pregnancy tests in your hand you could laugh at your situation. 

You and Frankie had dove head first into serious. Within two months of dating you had moved in with him and then a month after that you had discovered you were pregnant with your now one-year-old daughter. He had taken to fatherhood amazingly and he was her favourite, as much as you hated to admit it. Now here you were, pregnant again. 

Now you had always wanted to have more than one kid. You just hoped you'd have a decent age gap between the two of them. Yet here you were... 4 - 5 weeks along with another surprise baby. You just hoped that Frankie would be happy about it. 

Two hours later, Frankie walked through the front door and beamed at the screaming welcome Alicia gave him. 

"Well hello to you, Princesa." He gushed as he pulled her into his arms and placed a loving kiss on her cheek. 

You walked in as she scrunched her face and giggled, grinning at the interaction between them. You made your way over to him and gave him a soft kiss only to roll your eyes when Alicia slapped her hand on your lips in an attempt to part you. 

"No te pongas celosa, niña." (Don’t get jealous, baby girl) He warned and she grinned at him "How was your day baby?" He asked as he followed you into the kitchen and placed Alicia in her highchair. 

"Eventful." You replied, returning your cooking. 

"Makes two of us." He chuckled as he peered over your shoulder to see what you were making "New recipe?" He asked and you nodded. 

"Mhmm." You replied, eyeing the recipe book "Take a look." You said motioning to the book "It sounded nice." 

You watched him from the corner of your eye as he made his way over to the counter where the book sat, opening it to the page and his eyes growing wide. He didn't say anything for a few tense moments and you felt your stomach twist a little with nerves. 

"Baby." He said finally and you turned to face him, noting the test in your hand "Are you..." He trailed off as he studied it a little closer before his eyes finally drifted up to you "Are we pregnant?" 

"Mhmm." You said, chewing your bottom lip as you awaited his reaction. 

You didn't have to wait long. 

He dropped the test on the counter and was on you in three long strides. Kissing you hard as he let out a choked sob. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours and placed a hand on your stomach, grinning like a crazy man as he stroked it with his thumb. 

"So you're okay with this?" You asked and he laughed. 

"I am more than okay with it Hermosa." He sobbed as he pulled his head back to look at you "I am the happiest man alive right now." 

...

This pregnancy came with different stresses. The further along you got, the more worried Frank became about supporting his growing family. He started to take extra shifts and odd jobs, the money helping get you all ready for daughter number two but as time went on he started to struggle. 

So he turned to extreme measures to keep him going. 

Two months before your daughter was due he was grounded. You'd been shocked to learn that he'd been taking coke to keep him going. You weren't sure how to react. On the one hand, you knew he'd just been trying to provide for you all but on the other... He's chosen to coke in order to do that. You had learned from the Millers that it hadn't been the first time Frankie had turned to the white powder. After leaving the forces he'd struggled to reintegrate into society and had chosen to numb that pain with coke. This had been hard to swallow. You had thought you knew all there was to know about the man you loved but it turned out you didn't know him as well as you thought. 

He had pleaded with you to give him another chance. Begged you not to give up on him and despite your mind telling to that it was a bad idea you stuck with him and he made it his mission to be better. He went to AA meetings and cut the cocaine out of his life cold Turkey. Then on the 1st of July... Mia was born. 

She had him wrapped around his little finger from the moment he first saw her and as you'd laid there in that hospital bed, your newborn suckling at your breast he made a vow.

He would never break your trust again. 

He would break that promise two months later. 

Taglist form

Tags: @hayley-the-comet @ajeff855 @pedritomando @supernaturalgirl20 @dihra-vesa @nicolethered @practicalghost @theanothersherlockian @gallowsjoker @little-mrs-morales @sunnshineeexoxo @aliwritesfic @maryfanson @sherala007 @ayrusss @greeneyedblondie44 @elegantduckturtle @jediknight122 @goodgriefitsawildworld @voteforpedro09 @vanered15 @anaaaispunk @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @mishasminion360 @bloobsi @giggly-otter @athalien @mssbridgerton @huitzilinthebudgie3 @samanthacookieone @salome-c @radcollectivesoul @pedrohoe04 @thekohakuriver1 @paintlavillered @ktmadden86 @hotchlover @kirsteng42 @djjarins @balekanemohafe @misscampacyn @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @pedromandoverse @destiny-tsukino @mysun-n-stars @tombraider42017 @littlemisspascal @thatpinkshirt @bison-writes @evyiione @girlofchaos @vanemando15

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie ‘catfish’ morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales triple frontier #francisco morales triple frontier #francisco morales x you #francisco morales fanfiction #francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #triple frontier x you #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #Pedro pascal

[wheresarizona]

My Girlfriend’s Moans are Hot

summary: Age 20—It didn’t surprise you when innocent cuddling in bed, watching a movie you and Francis had seen a thousand times, devolved into you fucking each other’s brains out.

pairing: Francisco “Catfish” Morales/f!eader (Nickname: Spills)

rating: E (18+! This is pure smut. Oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), multiple orgasms, spanking, dirty talk, cream pie, two people who love each other a lot and like to have fun while having sex, Francis is a goofball, a sexy goofball)

word count: 1700

(A/N: This fic is for my dear friend Jules, @juletheghoul based on her incredible series Oblivius. It’s an au of her au where Francis (Frankie) and Spills (Reader) are high school sweethearts and don’t fight their feelings. They fall in love young and have a happily ever after. This fic is a glimpse into that life. Here Frankie hasn’t been hardened by the military just yet, he’s happy, a little goofy, and madly in love. Oblivius is a wonderful series that I have been obsessed with since the first chapter, it was an honor to write about these characters that I love, who Jules introduced us to, and fleshed out so wonderfully that they live rent free in my head. I hope I do them justice. ❤️❤️❤️)

Comments and reblogs appreciated!

Masterlist

Age: 20

You’d been each other's first everything—First date, first boyfriend/girlfriend, first time. Francis was your first kiss, and you gave him shit over not being his.

“I’m sure you’d rather be kissing Jennifer….” You frowned.

“I’ve said it a million times, Spills,” he sighed. “We were twelve, and it was barely a kiss. I think of the first time I kissed you as my real first.”

Your eyes got big, feeling yourself soften. “Really?”

“Oh yeah. You let me use tongue.”

“Francisco!”

You were young and madly in love with each other—inseparable since the moment you’d met in the tenth grade. Friendship turned into love, and you both knew that you were it for each other, neither of you able to imagine a life without the other.

You knew everything about each other—likes, dislikes, wants, desires—spending almost all of your time together since the moment you’d met.

Which meant it hadn’t surprised you that innocent cuddling in bed, watching a movie the two of you had seen a thousand times, led to Francis kissing at your neck, sliding his hand along your side, over your shirt, and down to your bare thigh, and back up again to palm your breast.

You tried to hold out, feigning interest in what was playing, but his fingers plucked at your nipple as he sucked on that one spot below your ear that made your pussy throb and your toes curl, and your resolve shattered. You turned in his arms, lips finding his in a searing kiss, moaning into his mouth as his tongue met yours.

He pulled you on top of him, already feeling him hardening in his boxers underneath you, and the two of you got lost in each other, mouths fused together, hungrily kissing as his hands held onto your ass, helping you grind your wet clothed core against his now straining length, gasping and moaning, moving just right to rub against your clit, sending jolts up your spine.

He knew your body like his own, knew when you needed more, his hand moving to toss the blanket off the two of you before bodily moving you underneath him, caging you in as he kissed you hard.

“Want to eat your pussy,” he said against your lips, and the thought of his mouth on you made you moan. He kissed along your jaw, hands moving to the hem of your shirt. “Gonna eat you out.” He pulled your shirt up, you helping him get it off. His mouth immediately moved to latch onto a bared nipple, making you gasp and desire burn bright in your belly. He came off with a ‘pop,’ “You want me to lick it, baby?” He was moving down your body, kissing along the skin of your belly. “Want me to make you come all over my face?” You moaned, your panties wet with arousal, cunt achingly empty. He was between your legs, quickly removing your underwear, along with his own clothes, and then he settled himself at your throbbing core, using two fingers to spread your lips. “God, baby, you’re so wet. You want my mouth?”

“Please,” you moaned.

He dove in, licking a stripe from your entrance to clit, making you gasp and your back arch as the pleasure spread through you, his arm moving to hold down your stomach. Francis had made pussy eating an art, had spent hours between your legs learning every which way to make you fall apart. He was relentless, his tongue working in practiced movements to work you up. Pleasure was wracking through your body with each stroke of his tongue and nuzzle of his nose, playing your body in a way nobody else ever could. Your pussy drooled, the pleasure building until finally, it exploded, coming with a shout of his name, your body awash in orgasmic bliss, as your fingers dug into the sheets for something to hold onto.

He continued licking, drinking down your high with his own groans.

“Taste so fucking good. Give me one more.”

“God,” you moaned as he latched his lips around your clit.

He used his mouth and fingers, spearing you open with two digits and making you gasp at the sudden intrusion. The room was filled with the wet sounds of his fingers fucking into you, his mouth licking and sucking at your flesh, groans reverberating from his chest, and your moans you couldn’t stop. You were still riding your high, Francis expertly building you up once more. Your limbs were tingling, there was a slight haze to your brain, and it surprised you when you crested again, a strangled, “Fuck,” escaping your lips as you rode out your high, body aflame in pleasure.

When your brain could finally think a coherent thought, he was kissing back up your body until his lips were on yours, making you moan at tasting yourself, him taking the opportunity to slip his tongue inside. You languidly kissed, your hands landing in his hair, as he palmed your breast and tweaked your nipple.

“I wanna be on top,” you said.

He playfully smacked your thigh, making you yelp as he laid down on his back next to you.

“Your ride awaits,” he said, pointing at his hard cock, jutting from his hips.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said with a roll of your eyes and a smile, throwing your leg over his waist.

You braced your hands on his chest, his moving to grab onto your ass, digging his fingers into the flesh. You rubbed your wet cunt along the length of him, watching his brows furrow and mouth slightly open, his eyes more black than the gorgeous brown you loved, watching you with burning desire. You waited for him to get impatient—to beg you to let him inside, and it didn’t take long; he smacked your ass.

“Stop teasing,” he said.

You continued to move languidly, his cock wet with your slick.

“No please?” You asked sweetly.

He smacked your ass again.

“Please, baby, stop teasing, and ride my dick.”

“That’s more like it.”

You moved up, positioning him at your entrance, and then you sank down, both of you moaning as he stretched you open. His fingers had opened you up, but there was still a delicious stretch that made your cunt throb.

“Fuck, your pussy feels so good,” he panted. His hands were holding you down on him, taking a moment to bask in the way you felt squeezing him. “I love it. Best fucking thing in the world.”

You felt so full, breaths coming out heavy, eyes closed.

“You’re so romantic,” you said, breathily.

“I love you, Spills.” His hand moved to where yours was on his chest, lacing your fingers together. You opened your eyes to meet his, seeing a look of adoration on his face.

“I love you, too, Francis.”

His other hand smacked your ass, making you gasp and clench around him.

“Now ride me like you mean it.”

You rolled your eyes but took it as a challenge, bouncing yourself on him. Each downstroke had the air punching out of your lungs and a current igniting in your belly. His fingers on your ass dug into your skin.

“So fucking good,” he said. “Feels so fucking good.”

You ground your hips against him, the coarse hairs at the base of cock rubbing deliciously against your swollen clit. You were chasing your high, so close you could taste it. You just needed—

His hands grabbed hold of your ass as he planted his feet onto the mattress, and he started moving from under you, pulling you down as he thrust up, drilling into you and making your brain buzz. You were chanting his name, the sounds clipped as the breath rushed out of you. He was grunting with his efforts, face contorted in concentration.

“Come on, baby, come for me,” he grunted. “Come on my cock. Wanna feel you squeeze me. Choke my dick.”

His words sent you over, your pussy clenching around him like a vice as you came around him, slumping forward as it was wrung from your body.

“That’s it. Fuck, that’s it. So good to me.”

One second you were on top, the next, you were under him, and somehow he managed to keep himself inside of you in this change of positioning.

He moved your legs up high on his hips, his arms on either side of your head for leverage, and then his mouth was on yours, tongue moving past your lips.

He railed into you, deep, hard, steady thrusts that made all thoughts disappear, your brain only able to focus on him—on Francis. The way he surrounded you and consumed you made you wonder where he ended and you began, the two of you so intertwined, like you were one soul, one body. You were making noises that he was swallowing with his kisses, groans, and grunts coming from his chest.

“Fill me up,” you said without even thinking. “I wanna feel you.”

Your words made a deep, guttural groan come out of his mouth, his hips stuttering for a moment.

“Fuck, baby. I’m going to give it to you—fill you up and make you drip.”

You moaned at the promise.

He was close, strokes getting quicker and harder, grunting with the exertion, until finally, he was pushing in hard, coming deep inside, with a loud groan. He was grinding his hips, fucking himself deeper through the oversensitivity, until finally, he stilled, his body collapsing on yours, his head nestled against your neck.

You stroked your hands along his back, feeling the muscles beneath his skin, moving lower to grab his ass before moving back up again. He was breathing hard, letting his high roll through him. He nuzzled your cheek, kissing your jaw.

“We’re too fucking good at this.” His words were slightly slurred, and it made you smile.

You huffed out a breath.

“We practice enough. We’re basically professionals.”

“We should have sponsorships.”

You snorted.

“Like Magnum condoms?” You asked.

“I was thinking Plan-B and Gatorade.”

“Francisco!”

But you couldn’t help it. The two of you started laughing, enjoying yourselves in the post-coital bliss and the knowledge that you were with the one you were meant to be with.

Tagging:

@juletheghoul @daddydindjarin @absurdthirst @kirsteng42 @littlemisspascal @perropascal @athalien @thevoiceinyourheadx @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @dins-cyare @girlofchaos @mswarriorbabe80 @spanishmossmagnolia

#pedro pascal #frankie morales x reader #Frankie morales/reader #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #wheresarizona writes #Oblivius au #Oblivius #for Jules my beloved #francis and spills

[all-the-things-2020]

A Year of Fandom Crossovers : January

Title: “I Need a Pilot”

Pedro Character: Frankie “Catfish” Morales

Fandom Crossover: Star Wars

Notes: This is the first entry in my Year of Fandom Crossovers! This one is a straight forward adventures placing Frankie in the Star Wars universe. I took some elements of the plot of Triple Frontier and dumped them onto a planet in a galaxy far, far away. There’s a little Stormpilot thrown in for good measure. Hope you enjoy! Thanks as always to @oonajaeadira for creating the @yearofcreation2023

“I need a pilot.”

Franki sighed. How many times had he heard that line? The young man in front of him seemed earnest and a bit naive, something not often seen in this backwater town. What the hell, he thought.

“How much and how far?”

The man blinked. “Um, I don’t have any credits on me, but …”

Franki shook his head. “I don’t fly for free. I got a kid.” He thought of the baby, just able to sit up on her own now.

“I can get the credits later,” the young man said. There was something urgent and strangely calming in his dark brown eyes. “This is important.” He looked around furtively, then lowered his voice. “I’m with the Resistance. Things went bad and … my pilot is out of commission. I need to get him off planet and to medical assistance right away.”

“I don’t fly off planet,” Franki said, taking a drink of his ale. “I’m a hopper pilot. Ferried troops and supplies for the Takaians during the civil war.” He took another long drink. The war had been his ticket out of this skughole town, or so he’d thought. Instead, it had just broken him and his friends and dumped them right back in Damphi.

“Thanks okay,” the young man said. “We just need to get to our rendezvous point and someone will pick us up. But we can’t get there without help.”

“And your friends can’t land here in Damphi because?”

“Because the place is crawling with First Order after we — I — messed up,” the man said miserably. “They’d shoot down anything that looks halfway Resistance. Which is why we need discreet transport. Hoppers are in and out of here all the time. Just … just fly us where we need to go and you’ll be rewarded. General Organa will pay you personally.”

Franki shook his head. “I don’t want to hear about generals or Resistance,” he hissed. “I don’t want to hear about you and your pilot. I got my own troubles.”

“Fifteen thousand,” the young man said. “I swear it. Just get us to the rendezvous.”

Fifteen thousand was a lot of money. Enough to pay off some debts, get back on somewhat solid footing, maybe even start up that little business his wife was always talking about. You’re gonna regret this, he told himself.

“Deal. Name’s Franki but my friends call me Catfish. Long story. Pleasure to do business with you.”

They shook hands. “Finn,” the young man said. “When can we leave?”

Franki shrugged. “Soon as I finish my ale, I guess.”

Finn beamed at him and Franki swallowed a grin. Kriffin’ idealistic kid. He has no idea what the real world is like. Hope the Resistance has more hardened soldiers than him or they’ve got no chance.

**************************************************************

When Finn and his pilot friend entered the hangar, Franki did a double take. He glanced around, expecting Benni and the others to jump out and start laughing. “If you’re messing with me …,” he said, trailing off as they got closer and he saw that the injured pilot was not his friend San-Ti. The resemblance was striking, though.

“I know I’m messed up right now, but I’m not that ugly, am I?,” the pilot croaked. He was clearly in pain but still able to joke.

“Just thought you were someone else for a moment,” Franki muttered. “Let’s get this over with. My hopper’s right over here.”

He led them to the battered vehicle, a decades out of date Model 7G planet-hopper. It wasn’t fancy, but it got the job done and M-98 kept it in working order. Mostly. When the droid wasn’t in the shop itself.

“The left rotor will need maintenance within the next one hundred hours of flight,” M-98 said morosely as they walked up the ramp. “And I’m keeping an eye on the second fuel injector.”

“That’s fine, Ninety-Eight,” Franki said. “This should be an easy trip. Out and back. Like shooting womp rats in a barrel.” He turned to his passengers. “I’ve got a co-pilot’s seat but not much else. Will your friend be okay here in the cargo area?”

“My name is Poe,” the injured pilot said. “And I’ll be fine anywhere, as long as you can get us to our rendezvous in time.” He winced and Finn immediately helped him to the floor.

“Take it easy, buddy,” Finn said gently. “We’ll get you in a bacta tank before you know it.” He looked up at Franki and his warm brown eyes belied his words. The kid was worried.

“Just give me a few minutes to warm up the engines and get the coordinates into the nav computer,” Franki said. “Then we’ll be off.”

“Six point five two minutes,” M-98 chimed in. “I told you that injector is acting up.”

**************************************************************

Flying in a hopper was nothing like flying in a spaceship. For one thing, it was noisier; Franki hadn’t been off world much but he found it eerily quiet when he did. He was used to the rattle of loose panels, the roar of the combustion engine, the thwup-thwup-thwup of the rotor blades. Hopper flying was also rougher than flying in space. Air turbulence combined with the idiosyncrasies of a machine that still had only half of its original parts meant that there was no such thing as flying straight between two points.

“It feels like this thing is falling apart!” Finn yelled. Franki had offered him the second set of headphones, so they could communicate easily, but he’d refused, insisting he wouldn’t be able to hear Poe if he needed anything.

“She’ll hold,” Franki shouted back. “Just sit down and relax.” He kept one eye on the horizon ahead and the other on the flickering blip on his nav screen.

Finn leaned forward, obscuring his view of the nav screen, and Franki fought the urge to shove the younger man out of the way. Be nice to the paying customer, he reminded himself.

“Forgive me, Catfish,” Finn said, “but aren’t we taking the long way around? We’re heading for Bezerr.”

“I know,” Franki said. “Can’t fly directly there because of the mountains. And this is a hopper. Got to refuel every couple of hours. Follow the supply stations.” He indicated the string of green dots their flight path connected.

“It’s just …” Finn shook his head and pulled the headset on. “Look,” he said, once he was on the comm link. “I don’t know if Poe has that much time. He’s getting weaker.” The concern in the young man’s eyes tugged at Franki’s heart. He knew what it was like to lose a comrade in arms. Especially because of a mission gone off the rails.

“Can’t do it,” Franki said. “This route is as fast as I can go.”

“I’ll double your fee,” Finn said. “Triple it, whatever. Just get us to Bezerr before he … look, you said you have a kid, right? So you have a spouse.” Franki nodded. “So you know how I feel. What if your wife — what if that was her back there and it was your fault she was hurt and …”

“I feel for you, kid, but it’s not doable. We’d have to fly over the kriffin’ Pyrshis! Tallest mountain range on the planet. This bucket of bolts isn’t built for those altitudes.”

“Please,” Finn pleaded. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose him.”

Franki sighed. He always was a sucker for big, brown eyes. “Okay, we’ll refuel at Brosia Station. I gotta do some calculations before we attempt it anyway. Better to do them on solid ground.”

“Thank you!” Finn said.

“Triple the fee,” Franki said as he adjusted the nav coordinates to take them to Brosia. You’re really going to regret this, Catfish.

***************************************************************************

“Are you certain?” Franki asked Ninety-Eight.

“Ninety-seven point nine five three percent certain,” the droid replied.

“Not good enough,” Franki said, banging his fist on the console. “We need to get this as close to perfect as possible.”

“I’m sorry, Catfish, but there are too many variables to reach a higher percentage of certainty. Nine seven point nine five three is the best I can do.”

“Almost ninety-eight percent sounds pretty good to me,” Finn chimed in.

Franki shook his head. “Look, kid, we’re not just going across the mountains, we’re going over them. That shortens our range considerably. These hoppers are built to cover distance, not fly high. We get up there where the atmosphere thins out and the engine can’t handle it if we have too heavy a load. So we have to make sure our tanks are empty enough to get enough lift to get over the peaks, but full enough that we have enough juice to get to Bezerr. Plus the rotors aren’t built for thin air, and this thing isn’t pressurized. We get over four and a half clicks and we’re going to start feeling the lack of oxygen. We hit five and a half, we’re getting light headed. Same with the engine. Can’t burn fuel as well when there’s less oxygen. This has to be as near perfect as we can get it or we crash up there.”

He pointed out the pitted windscreen at the soaring crags of the Pyrshi mountains. There was always ice and snow up there. The tallest peak topped out at close to six clicks high. Nothing lived up there except snow fleas and snow spiders and the occasional lost bird.

“If we don’t go soon, Poe will die,” Finn said. “One hundred percent certainty. So I say ninety-eight percent sounds good enough.”

“You’re paying,” Franki said. “Ninety-Eight, double check the tank before we take off.”

“Roger that,” the droid said. “And it might be a good idea to offer up an entreaty to any deities you gentlemen may be particularly fond of, just in case.”

“I’m going to let San-Ti’s cousin remove your humor module if you keep this up,” Franki grumbled. “Don’t know why I let you talk me into installing one in the first place.”

**************************************

The engines were straining. Franki could hear it and, more importantly, feel it. They were slowly climbing the crest of the mountains, aiming for a saddle that was only about twice the width of the hopper, but the lowest point where they could cross over and begin the descent toward Bezerr.

“How’s our fuel?”

Ninety-Eight hesitated a fraction of a second. “Close,” the droid said.

“What the kriff does ‘close’ mean? Close to empty? Close to what you calculated?”

“The fuel level is approximately what I calculated we would need to accomplish the crossing,” Ninety-Eight said primly. “A few milliliters short but close enough.”

Franki shook his head. He hated when the droid was vague with him. It meant things were not good. “How about the rotors?”

“Left rotor is showing signs of wear, as noted previously,” Ninety-Eight said. “Still within safety parameters, though.”

Which means it’s ready to break, Franki translated. He wasn’t even going to ask about the injectors.

“We’re almost there,” he heard Finn say. The young man was in the back with his friend, who was looking much paler than when they’d arrived. Franki was fairly certain the man was bleeding internally; he needed a bacta tank and a good surgeon as soon as possible.

Franki steadied the hopper as they neared the saddle. The winds were tricky around the glacier carved peaks and he fought the stick to keep her steady. “Almost there,” he said to himself. “Just hold together, baby, you can do it.”

They slowly rose above the level of the saddle and Franki could see the rolling plains beyond the steep escarpment of the mountains. As the hopper crept through the pass, a gust of wind slammed down from the cirque above. The left rotor cracked and broke into several pieces. At the same time, the engine coughed and sputtered, then went silent. The hopper tilted swiftly to the right.

“Brace yourselves!” Franki yelled. “We’re going down!”

He controlled the fall as best he could. It was nearly impossible to glide in a hopper, so he couldn’t guide it much, but he kept the nose up so at least when they crashed, they wouldn’t go down face first. A boulder caught the side rails and flipped the hopper sideways before it slammed to the ground, the right rotor still valiantly trying to spin even as it crumpled against granite.

**************************************************

Franki wiped the blood out of his eyes and took off his headset. He’d cracked his forehead against something, but it didn’t appear to be life threatening. “Finn!,” he called. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Finn said. He appeared battered but mostly intact.

“How about your friend?”

“Not great, but he’s still with us,” Finn said.

“And I am still functional, if anyone cares,” Ninety-Eight chimed in.

“Good,” Franki said. “Because I need you to assess the damage and see what we can salvage. We can’t get airborne but at least it’s all downhill from here. Maybe we can rig up some sort of conveyance to get us down.” He could feel the thinness of the air in his lungs. “It’ll take us too long to walk or climb.”

While Ninety-Eight surveyed the wreckage, Franki dug out the first aid kit and cleaned himself up. He had a cut on his forehead and a few slivers of glass in his arm, but otherwise he was just bruised up.

“So, we’re alive and we have a droid,” he said, after handing the kit to Finn. “No broken limbs, but we have one non ambulatory person to deal with. We’ll need some sort of litter to carry him on. And it’s going to get cold real fast up here. If we can’t get moving soon, we’ll need a fire or something else to keep warm.” His emergency survival training was coming back to him in bits and pieces. During the war, he’d mostly dealt with the aftermath of these things, swooping in to extract soldiers from tricky situations. This was the first time he’d been on the bad end of the deal.

********************************************************

Ninety-Eight cobbled together a small wagon out of the wreckage, as well as a rudimentary pulley system that could be used to lower it down the sheerest slopes if need be. “I can pull the wagon with all three of you humans in it,” the droid said. “It will be a bumpy ride but faster than your own feet.”

They settled Poe into the center of the wagon. Franki let Finn sit near Poe’s head, while he wedged himself into the back of the wagon. It was a tight fit, but at least they wouldn’t rattle around this way. Ninety-Eight set off at a steady but sensible pace, traversing the rocky ground as smoothly as it could.

Franki was uncomfortable, but not because of the cramped conditions. It was the quiet murmur of conversation between Finn and Poe that he couldn’t help but overhear. It was very clear that the two men were more than just friends and comrades in arms. Franki wasn’t a demonstrative person; public displays of affection made him squirm. He pulled his cap further down over his eyes, which made him wince as the brim scraped over the fresh cut, and feigned sleep, trying to give the two as much privacy as possible. Which wasn’t much, considering that Poe’s feet were basically in his lap.

“If I don’t make it,” Poe said at one point.

“You’re gonna make it,” Finn said.

“I know, but just in case … tell Rey to take care of Bee-Bee for me, okay?”

“Oh, so I don’t get custody of the kid?”

“You’re a mediocre pilot, babe. He’s an astromech droid. She can give him adventures.”

“I’m a good pilot. I just look like bantha poodoo next to you and Rey.”

“You keep telling yourself that, buddy.”

Franki suppressed a chuckle. Like an old married couple, he thought. But that made him think of his wife and baby waiting at home and the amusement faded away.

*************************************************

It took the better part of a day to reach the plains, but it would have taken them much, much longer on foot. Franki’s forehead had crusted over and itched like hell, he had a pounding headache and his left leg was asleep from being folded underneath him for so long, but otherwise he was in good shape. The same could not be said for Poe; the man had drifted into unconsciousness halfway down the mountainside.

Finn had a handheld comm link and kept trying to contact their ship, but the steep canyon walls were not conducive to radio frequencies. Once they were on the flat, he tried it again and finally received a response.

“Yeah, we’re near the foot of the mountains,” he yelled — the connection was staticky and intermittent — “about three clicks south of the river. Can you get a fix? Yeah? Okay, we’ll stand by.” He thumbed off the comm. “They’re coming to get us,” he said. “It won’t be long.” He smoothed the hair off Poe’s forehead, where it clung in damp curls.

“I’m not sure how much of the fee they’ll have on hand,” he said to Franki. “But I promise I’ll get the rest to you as soon as I can. There’s a bank in Damphi, right?”

“Yeah,” Franki said. “I’ve got an account.” Not much in it, but I’ve got an account.

“Will you be able to get back okay? Without the hopper?”

“I’ll hitch a ride with one of the other hopper pilots. You just worry about him.”

Soon, a nondescript transport descended from the sky, landing a few hundred meters away. A Twi’lek and a human hurried out with a floating stretcher and whisked Poe inside, a med droid hovering along beside them. “Wait here,” Finn said. “I’ll get your money.”

Franki stretched as he waited, idly watching Ninety-Eight tighten the bolts on the wagon. “It’ll be worth more than the scrap value if I spruce it up a bit,” the droid said.

Finn emerged from the transport with a pouch in his hand. “It’s only six thousand,” he said. “That’s all we have aboard. But I swear you’ll get the rest. Triple the original fee. Forty-five thousand.”

Franki took the pouch, weighing it in his hand. New Republic credits by the feel of it, maybe a few other currencies mixed in. Odds were this was all he was going to get from this disaster of a job, but he’d take it. “Take care of your friend,” he said. “And good luck with the resistance thing.”

Finn looked him in the eyes. “Thank you, Catfish. May the Force be with you.” He pulled Franki into a quick, fierce hug and then ran back to the transport, which lifted off a few minutes later.

“A new hopper will cost at least thirty-seven thousand,” Ninety-Eight said flatly.

“I know,” Franki said.

“If he comes through, you’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

“If he doesn’t, you’re kriffed.”

Franki glared at the droid. “Do you want me to have your personality removed?” He climbed back into the wagon. “Let’s go. If we get into town before nightfall, maybe I can catch a flight out and won’t have to waste money on a room.”

*****************************************

Damphi looked almost pretty in the morning light. Franki had caught a ride with Starsi, who was a good pilot but could talk the hind leg off a rancor. They had flown through the night, stopping twice to drop off cargo at poorly lit depots in the middle of nowhere. No wonder he’s flying at night, Franki thought. Still, it was a ride, and Starsi didn’t even charge him anything, simply glad for the company.

They’d sold the wagon to a scrap dealer near the landing strip. Ninety-Eight was still sulking because it thought its creation was worth more, but Franki had wanted to get out quickly. With six thousand, three hundred and ninety credits in his pocket — and no hopper — he was a lot further in the hole than he’d been a few days ago, but there was lots of work in Damphi, even if it wasn’t as fulfilling as flying a hopper. They’d be okay.

When they got home, Ninety-Eight went straight to its charging station. Franki tiptoed into the bedroom but it was empty. A note was on the table beside the bed. “Got an early shift at the factory, thanks to Emmi. Dropped the baby off with my mother. See you when I get off.”

At least I get a little break before I have to explain my latest screw-up, Franki thought as he collapsed into bed.

After a few hours sleep, he found some food and headed for the bank. Might as well pay a few bills off. At the teller window, he emptied the credits out of the pouch. “Deposit this into my account,” he said. “And then tell me the balance.”

The teller punched a few keys and printed out a slip. As she slid it across the counter, Franki shook his head. “This must be a mistake. I only deposited sixty-three ninety. This says seventy thousand.”

The teller consulted her terminal screen. “It’s correct. Although only the sixty-three ninety is available immediately. The rest is from two off-planet deposits that came in a few hours ago. That won’t be available until we get the ping back from the bank on Coruscant. Give it a day or two.” She swiveled the screen so he could see.

39,000: Balance of payment for services rendered.

30,000: For damages to equipment incurred during employment

Both deposits came from a bank on Coruscant. Guess the kid wasn’t lying about his connections, Franki thought.

“Thank you,” he told the teller. “I’ll be back in a couple of days to make some withdrawals.” He turned the numbers over in his head as he left the bank. Seventy-five thousand would allow him to buy a new hopper, pay off all the debts, and still have a little left over. A fresh start.

As he made his way home, San-Ti rushed up. “Hey, man, you would not believe the night I had!” He flung his arm around Franki’s shoulders. “Some kriffing Imperial wannabe thought I was someone else and tossed me in lockup! Then they threw in a drunken Wookiee and we all spent the next few hours trying not to get our arms ripped off. Finally they ran a genetic scan and realized I wasn’t the guy they were looking for and the one who brought me in got reamed out by his superior. It was hilarious! Except for the drunken Wookiee part. So, anything new with you?”

Franki laughed. “You have no idea, my friend. You have no idea.”

#star wars #pedro pascal #year of themed creation #stormpilot #triple frontier #fanfic #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #fandom crossover