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burntheedges · 3 months

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Is this a date? 💜

Frankie Morales x f!reader | 9k words 18+ (rated E) | my fic list | ao3

a/n: Happy Valentine’s Day, Jenn! @jennaispunk I hope you enjoy my gift for you for the #SpaceSistersSecretValentine. it got a bit long (lol). I loved your prompts – this is the one I chose:

prompt/summary: Everyone is going to the Valentine’s Day party as a couple and it would look stupid if you both went alone, so you and Frankie go as a couple (of course that’s when you're forced to confront your feelings for each other).

tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, banter, food and drink mention, best-friends-to-lovers, kissing, smut, p-in-v sex, oral (f!receiving), creampie (use a condom, folks), pet names (hermosa, querida, bebita, preciosa, amor, baby, babe), dirty talk (in English and Spanish, translated in parentheses), no use of y/n, reader has no description other than having a vagina, being on birth control, and using she/her pronouns, AU (either no Colombia trip or better outcomes from the trip, you decide), no mention of breasts or bra

Thank you to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta (as always) and to @urmomsgnocchi for looking over and helping with the Spanish dialogue! (check out ali’s tips for sexy talk in Spanish, too)

Is this a date?

Frankie grimaces as he drops out of the driver’s seat of his truck onto his driveway. He takes a moment to stretch his back, knowing it won’t actually help. The tightness he feels isn’t in his back, anyway.

He groans through the stretch and turns to grab his work bag from the backseat before locking his truck and heading inside, where he drops it by the front door. Toeing off his shoes, he shakes his head. He still feels it. He tries to ignore it and heads to his bedroom to change out of his work clothes, which are stained with engine grease from a long afternoon of repairs. It isn’t anywhere near as good as flying the helicopters or planes himself, but at least this way he still gets to work with them. (At least, that’s what he tells Pope whenever he asks.)

A few minutes later, Frankie is flopping onto his couch, beer in hand, no longer able to hide from the worry and the way he can feel it in his body. The way he has felt it, for weeks now.

Two weeks, to be exact.

He’s had the same pit in his stomach ever since Benny told him about the party. The Valentine’s Day party. Frankie sighs, letting his head fall back against the back of the couch, and feels his hat fall off his head. He sighs again.

He doesn’t know what to do. For the first time in years, all of the guys are with someone. All of them, except for him. And all of the women he knows are dating someone.

Except for you.

Frankie presses his palms to his eyes and tries not to sigh again. He’s developing a habit and he knows the guys will call him on it. But he can’t help it. Not with his feelings about this, about you.

You’ll be the only two at the party without a date. And somehow Frankie had agreed that that meant the two of you should go together. As friends. On a friend date. And now the party is only one day away and Frankie feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin. Maybe he should just fake sick, try to get out of it. But he doesn’t want to leave you hanging, even if he knows it’s going to be absolutely excruciating to be your fake date. Just for one night. Fuck.

(Pope, the absolute asshole, had been the one to suggest it while you were all out at the bar. Right after Benny invited everyone to the party.

“Well maybe the two of you should just go together, then!” Pope had been grinning as he said it, knowing he was getting under Frankie’s skin.

Frankie figured most of the guys knew he liked you, had probably noticed the way he couldn’t look away from you whenever you were in the room. But Pope was the only one who knew for sure, who had heard it straight from Frankie himself. He was using that knowledge for evil. “It’ll be fun! Give you a reason to get dressed up, Fish, stop looking so scruffy for once.”

Frankie had wanted the floor to swallow him up, or maybe just to run away. He wanted to look at you to see your reaction to all of this but also couldn’t bear to do it. He’d just stared at his beer, tense. He’d felt like he was one word away from bursting into action, with no idea what that action might be. Maybe strangling Pope with his bare hands.

But then you’d responded. “Give it a rest, Santi, we all know you just wish you could rock a mustache like Frankie.”

Everyone at your end of the bar had laughed and the conversation had mercifully moved on. Frankie had finally looked up and found you looking at him, too. You were smiling but he could tell you were nervous. He couldn’t think why you would be.

You both started talking at the same time.

“Sorry about Pope—“

“It’s not a bad idea—“

You both trailed off, and it took him a second to register your words.

“You don’t have to apologize for Santiago, Frankie, I have met him before. Once or twice.” You were smiling now, but he was stuck on what you’d just said.

“Wait, what isn’t a bad idea?” He reached for his beer.

“Oh! Um,” you looked nervous again. He tried not to do the same. “We could go to the party together. Since everyone else is paired up. You know, make it more fun.”

Frankie froze with his drink halfway to his mouth. He hadn’t been expecting that. You just meant as friends, right? You had to. In all the years he’d known you, he’d never thought for even a second that you might feel about him the way he feels about you.

He’d been quiet for too long. Your smile dropped and you started again. “I mean, we don’t have to—“

“No! Wait,” Frankie hastily put his beer down, barely noticing the way it spilled onto his hand when he almost missed the bar top.

“It was just an idea, I mean—“

“Hold on,” he slid his dry hand closer to yours on the bar but didn’t touch you. “I didn’t say it was a bad idea. It probably would be more fun.” He was trying not to hope you’d mean to suggest a date. No way.

You nodded, still looking nervous. “Yeah, we could, um–” he watched as you took a deep breath. “Maybe do the whole thing, you know? Get dressed up. Make it fun.”

The whole thing. Frankie felt his hope rising and tried to shove it back down. “You mean, um. Do you mean as—”

Your eyes widened and you sat up straight on your barstool. “No!” Your voice was loud and Frankie was a bit surprised. “I mean, not like that.” You laughed but you looked uncomfortable doing it, and he didn’t know how to take it. “Just as friends, right? A friend date. Or something.”

Frankie had felt his heart drop into his shoes. A friend date. The last thing he wanted, and probably the best he would ever get. He’d agreed, trying not to notice your relief when he did.

And he’d been trying not to think about it ever since.)

You’d barely talked to him since that night and Frankie was trying not to read into it. You’d agreed, before you’d parted ways that night – a friend date. He’ll pick you up at 6, you’ll both dress up a bit. Try to have some fun.

Fun. He scoffs to himself, thinking of it. More like, try not to think too much about how he wishes it was a real date. Try not to make it weird.

Usually you text him daily. Not always for long conversations, but you would share funny or annoying things about your day, and Frankie would do the same. But not since that night. The radio silence is killing him, but he doesn’t want to push and find out that you’ve gone quiet for exactly the reason he’s afraid of.

Sometime in the last two weeks Frankie has allowed himself to face the reality of the situation. Sure, he’s admitted to Pope in the past that he likes you. But the distance between you has given him the space he apparently needed to face up to the truth, something he’s secretly known all along – he’s in love with you. Absolutely head over heels, fully lost, one hundred percent in love. He’s been lying to himself, afraid to acknowledge it. But he is, and now he’s afraid he’s lost you before he can even do anything about it.

You’re his best friend. You have been for a while now. And you deserve a good date, even if it kills Frankie to give it to you. So he’ll do it. And he’ll try not to hope too much for more.

Frankie doesn’t sleep much that night.

…

On the day of the party, you wake up at 6am. You’re lying in bed, asleep, and then suddenly you’re awake and staring at the ceiling and your first thought is, it’s today. Your friend date is today, and you press your hands to your face to hide from yourself.

You can’t believe you got yourself into this situation. You’d been so close, breaths away from suggesting an actual date with Frankie. And you’d chickened out at the last minute. Like you did every time. You’d wanted to kick yourself the moment the words “friend date” came out of your mouth, but there was nothing you could do about it now.

Not without admitting the truth.

(After Frankie had left, Santiago had made his way over to you and leaned against the bar next to you with a serious look on his face.

“So I guess you heard that,” you said, groaning.

He nodded. “You should ask him out for real.”

You shook your head in response. “If he wanted that, he would have said so.”

Santiago rolled his eyes at you. “You and I both know Fish isn’t going to do that. He’s all in his head about this.”

You sighed. “I just–” you swallowed and closed your eyes. “What if you’re wrong, Santi? I can’t lose what we have now.”

He’d looked at you, and as always you appreciated that Santiago took your feelings so seriously. He was a good friend.

“Well, then, you have a couple of weeks to think about it. About what you want. And then at the party you can see. Flirt a bit. You’ll have his full attention, and you know it. And you’re his best friend, you know that, too. You won’t lose him. Either way.”)

It reassured you at the time, but it turns out that something had changed that night. You feel like you’ve forgotten how to be friends with Frankie all of a sudden and it hurts. What if you’ve already lost him? Because of this stupid friend date?

By the morning of the date, you’re in knots. You can barely focus and you have no idea where the day goes – the time flies by and suddenly it’s 5pm and you’re rushing into your bedroom to get ready.

You know what you’re going to wear. You’d pictured it in your mind, the same night you’d gotten yourself into this mess. There’s an outfit you’ve been saving for a special date (a date with Frankie, you try not to think) and it’s time to bring it out. You’re hoping, and trying not to hope too much, that Frankie will be blown away by it. That something will happen tonight. That things will change, but not so much that you lose your best friend.

You look at yourself in the mirror and you know you look good. This is how you were hoping you’d look for a first date with Frankie, and you try to let that be a good sign. You take a deep breath and close your eyes.

Here we go.

Frankie, always punctual, rings your doorbell right at 5:59pm. It makes you smile and you feel some of your nerves fade away.

They all come rushing back when you open the door and see him.

Frankie is wearing dark jeans and a deep purple button up dress shirt, both of which fit him perfectly. His beard is neatly trimmed and he’s not wearing a hat. His curls are loose and styled and your breath catches in your throat. He’s holding flowers. You barely notice the way his eyes have widened as he looks at your outfit, too.

“Your hair!”

“You look amazing–”

You speak at the same time, and then you both smile. It relaxes you a little bit.

“Your hair looks great, Frankie, I can’t believe you’re not wearing a hat!”

He grins a little. “I wouldn’t wear a hat on a first date, come on.” The words send a shiver up your spine and you try not to read into them. But you want to. “Um, or a friend date, I guess.”

“Um,” you reply, and then mentally kick yourself. “Well, it looks really nice.”

He blushes. “Thanks. I mean it, you look amazing. I’ve never seen this number before.” He gestures at your outfit, and you smile wider. “And these are for you.” He hands you the flowers, and you look down at them, overwhelmed. You step inside to find a vase and Frankie lingers near the door behind you.

“I’ve been saving it,” you say over your shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“The outfit.” You smooth your hands down your sides and try not to look nervous as you turn back around to face him.

“Oh yeah? For what?”

“Oh, um. For a first date.” You can’t believe you just said that. But he said it first, and that means you can say it too, right? You keep talking before either of you can dwell on that thought. “Should we go? Don’t want to be late.”

Frankie steps back to let you move past him and nods. “Sure. Don’t want Benny to give us crap for missing any of his party.” You laugh.

You feel better in the car. This feels easy, as easy as it always does with Frankie. Whatever weirdness has arisen between you hasn’t broken what you already have. It’s a comforting realization.

As Frankie pulls over to park outside Benny’s house, he asks, “so, how do you want to play this?”

You tilt your head at him. “What do you mean?”

He gestures at the house. “They’re going to tease us for this, you know that. About how we’re on a date. How do you want to play it?”

You consider him, and wonder if this is your chance to test the waters. You turn your upper body to face him and lean against the door of his truck. With a teasing smile of your own, you reply, “well, they’re expecting us to be awkward, right? They’ll tease us, we’ll be weird about it, they laugh. What if we beat them to it?”

Frankie turns towards you and rests his left arm on the steering wheel. He looks confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if we go in there and act like we’re on a date? Not like two friends who are expecting to be given hell for it. Like we’re on a real date. It’ll confuse the hell out of them, they won’t know what to do with it.” You hold your breath while you wait for Frankie’s answer. You have no idea what it will be.

His brow is furrowed as he looks between you at the gear shift. “But…” he trails off and you reach over to nudge his hand to encourage him. He slips his hand over yours slowly and squeezes. It isn’t the first time in your years of being friends that he’s held your hand to reassure you like this but you badly want to read more into it now. “I see what you’re saying. It would probably be pretty funny to see their faces.” You nod. “But what about… after? Since it’s not a real date.”

You meet his eyes and gather your courage. “Who said it isn’t?” And before he can reply, before you can even see his reaction, you open the door behind you and slip out of the car.

“Wait!” You hear Frankie call for you and try not to grin too widely. He comes jogging around the back of his truck and meets you halfway across the lawn of Benny’s house. “Wait, hey, hold on. What do you mean?”

You focus on walking, and he falls into step next to you. You can feel his eyes on you as you step up to the front door. Before you knock you look at him and meet his familiar warm gaze. “I meant what I said, Frankie. Who said it’s not a real date? Maybe it could be.”

You turn away and knock without letting him reply. You’re vibrating with nerves, surprised at your audacity. You’re certain he can see the tension in your body, the nerves. But maybe this is what you need, to see if you can have what you want.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Frankie straighten up and shake his head. He goes to run his fingers through his hair but stops himself. Suddenly, he steps closer and slips an arm around your waist to pull you close to him. You gasp at the feeling of his body, warm and solid along your right side. “If you wanted this to be a date, hermosa, you only had to ask.” His voice is deeper, suddenly, and he’s so close to your ear you can feel his breath.

You start to turn your head towards him to respond, but before you can, the door flies open in front of you. You both turn towards it, startled.

“Hey, you two! You’re late!” Benny smiles widely when he sees you waiting on his porch. He’s wearing a bright red dress shirt and holding a pink cocktail. He starts to gesture you inside when his eyes fall to Frankie’s arm, which is still snug around your waist. You can see his surprise and decide it’s now or never.

“Hi Benny,” you reply, leaning into Frankie and smiling. “Where’s the party at?”

His eyes dart between you. “Go straight through to the kitchen. Hey, I thought–”

You cut him off. “Thanks! Let’s grab something to drink, Frankie, I’m thirsty.” You step forward and reach back to catch Frankie’s hand as he lets it fall from your waist. As you pass by Benny, you know he’s staring at your hands, which are laced together and holding tight. Frankie squeezes your hand and it reassures you.

When you arrive at the kitchen, Frankie crowds behind you, much closer than he ever has before. His hands land lightly on your hips. You have no idea what your face is doing.

You need to focus. This was your big idea and clearly Frankie is shifting into some first-date mode that you’ve never seen before. Get it together. Flirting is clearly on the table, now, and you need to step it up.

As you move into the room, with Frankie close behind, the others yell greetings and welcome you in. You notice that Benny and Steph have gone all out with the decorations – the kitchen looks like you’re inside a Valentine’s card. And most of the food and drinks are red or pink (or made of chocolate). Soon enough you have a drink in your hand and you’re deep in conversation with Santiago’s girlfriend, Yovanna. Frankie stands behind you, left hand on your left hip, drink in his right. You can feel his body heat and you’re trying not to let how flustered you are show on your face.

After a few minutes, Santiago comes over to pull Frankie into another of the boys’ longstanding arguments about something or other. Before he goes, Frankie suddenly shifts his grip on your hip and squeezes. He leans close to murmur in your ear, “I’ll be back soon, hermosa.” His words send warmth spiraling down your spine and you shiver. You blink and meet Yovanna’s eyes.

She has one eyebrow raised as she takes a long sip of her drink. “So, what’s going on here, hmm?”

You feel your cheeks heat and throw back the rest of your own drink. “A real date, I think.”

“You think?”

You shake your head. “We just said it, or I did, outside. ‘Who said it’s not a real date? Maybe it could be.’ And then it was like he flipped a switch and now Frankie is flirting and I’m still catching up. Even though it was my idea. I guess.”

She laughs a little, but kindly. “He’s head over heels for you, you know. Of course he’s flirting. You gave him the go ahead and now he’s going all in. He knows what he wants.” She nudges you with her shoulder. “You should get him back. Raise the stakes.”

You tilt your head, considering her words. “You think so? I’m still worried I’m going to mess this up.”

Yovanna looks around the room before stepping closer to you. She lowers her voice. “You’re in love with that man. You gave him an opening, and he leapt through it. Go get him.”

You knew that, of course. But something about the way she says it to you flips the switch for you, this time. You look over at Frankie, who has his back to you, and you smirk. She nods. “That’s right. He wants you. And I can’t wait to see the look on his face when you show him you want him, too.”

You grin at her and give her a hug. “I think I need to go save my date from your boyfriend.” She laughs and waves you onward.

As you approach, you see Santiago notice you and you wink at him. He grins but doesn’t let Frankie see his distraction. He’s still got his back turned when you step up behind him and slide your right arm around his waist, ducking under his left. “Hey, babe. You want something to eat?” You can feel the way his body responds to yours – he turns towards you immediately, like it’s second nature, and his left arm wraps snugly around your shoulders. He looks surprised, but he meets your gaze with a delighted smile.

“I could eat.” He runs his fingers down your arm lightly, and you bite your lip. You turn to Santiago, and realize Will and Benny are there, too.

“I’m stealing him, boys.”

Santiago is grinning, hugely, while Will and Benny both look like someone just hit them over the head with something heavy. They look shocked and you smile innocently at them in response.

“Come on, Frankie.” He follows easily as you tug him away and you realize how attuned to you he is, like always.

“Was about to come find you, hermosa.” He leans closer to murmur into your ear and you shiver. “Would much rather talk to you than those idiots.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm, of course.” You feel Frankie’s nose brush against the top of your ear and your breath catches. But you’ve arrived at the table laden with food and he stands up straight. “Seems like we have a lot to talk about.” You meet his eyes again and for a moment you both just stare at each other, knowing somehow that you’re both recognizing the huge shift in your relationship that just happened as you arrived at this party. You start to reach out towards him when Steph comes flying into the room.

“It’s game time! Everyone in the living room, stat!” She taps you both on the shoulders as she passes, and you sigh.

“I guess it’s game time.” You laugh ruefully as you say it, reaching out to grab Frankie’s hand as you move towards the living room.

But he uses his grip on your hand to pull you back in and ducks forward to press a fleeting kiss to your cheek. “I’ll be ready to talk whenever you are.” You feel the heat rush to your cheeks as you smile at him helplessly.

“Smooth moves, Morales.”

He grins as you tease him. “Only for you, baby.”

In the living room you find that the group has split, with the boys on one side and the significant others on the other. Steph claps her hands together when you arrive and gestures for you to split up, too. “To your sides, you two! It’s us versus them!”

It turns out Steph has planned a series of games that pit the two halves of each couple against each other. It’s fun – the whole room is laughing, everyone is having a good time.

But it also means that you and Frankie are separated for most of the evening, watching each other from across the room. You know it’s obvious – your friends have elbowed you more than once, and Yovanna waggles her eyebrows at you after you watch (and admire) Frankie drawing so carefully and precisely for Pictionary. You roll your eyes back at her.

You feel his eyes on you, too. Watching as you read off a clue, tracing down your back as you draw for Pictionary. He’s looking at you, only at you, and it’s washing over you like the tide, pulling you to move back to his side.

It’s a long while before the games are exhausted, and therefore a long while before you find yourself next to Frankie again. The group has dispersed, filled the room, and Benny puts on some music for dancing before pulling Steph into his arms over by the fireplace. You’re smiling and watching them when Frankie steps up beside you. He leans in and you turn towards his warmth like a flower turning towards the sun.

“Dance with me, hermosa?” He wraps his arms around your waist from behind as he says it, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the base of your throat. You shiver as you lean back against him and nod.

“Yes, Frankie. Anytime.” He grins into your neck and you close your eyes, wondering how you got here so quickly. It feels amazing but you’re also reeling at the change. Frankie just kissed you.

He steps back and grabs your hand to lead you down the hallway to the backyard. “I thought we were going to dance?” You look back and notice all of the other couples are still in the living room.

“We are,” he agrees. “But I want you all to myself, for a minute.” You smile and follow him out the backdoor. Benny and Steph clearly decorated out here, too, and there are twinkling lights everywhere. You can hear the music piping through the speakers on the back porch.

Frankie leads you down the steps and into the yard, and you feel the anticipation building inside of you. He turns to the right to step into the shadow of a tree. You realize you’re now out of sight of the back door and you raise an eyebrow at him when he pulls you back into his arms.

“All to yourself, huh?” Not that you’d rather be anywhere else but here.

He smiles at you as you start to sway back and forth to the music. “Come on, baby, can you blame me? I just found out a couple of hours ago that I’m on a real first date with the woman of my dreams, and I’ve barely had a minute alone with her since.” You feel your cheeks heat as you grin at him and tighten your right arm around his neck.

“The woman of your dreams, huh?” The idea of it makes you feel breathless, almost dizzy. Of his dreams.

His gaze softens and he nods. “Yeah, querida. You have to know that by now.” He pulls you closer. “I wanted this, so much. You’re my best friend, and you’re more than that. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. I just never thought you’d feel the same.”

You run your fingers through his hair at the back of his neck and watch as he shivers. “I do, Frankie. For a long time, now.”

He tilts his head, considering your answer. “How long?”

“Well…”

He grins. “Come on, baby, bet I’ve got you beat.”

You frown at him. “I think…” He squeezes your waist to encourage you and you laugh. “Well, definitely since you helped me build that bookshelf.”

His eyes widen. “The bookshelf? The one in your bedroom?” You nod. “That was years ago. You mean we could have been together all this time?” For a moment he looks crestfallen, but shakes his head. “No, wait, I’m sorry. I did hope for that. But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy right now.” You smile at him. That’s Frankie, for you – always so worried about how everyone around him is feeling.

“It’s ok, Frankie. I know what you mean. But I also love being your best friend. And that took us a while.”

“... also?” His eyes were locked on yours, intent. You felt your heart rate pick up.

“What?”

“You said you also love being my best friend. What do you mean, also?”

Shit. You bite your lip, unsure of how to reply. It’s too early, right? Even if you have known for years. You can’t confess your love on a first date.

Can you?

His gaze drops to your mouth and he smirks. “Hey, baby, it’s ok, I’ll go first. Te amo.”

Your mouth drops open and he grins. “Frankie?” You’re sure you look absolutely shocked.

“Te amo sin freno, preciosa. Ever since that day you pushed Pope in the lake.” (I love you no matter what (a lot).)

You’re gawking at him now. That was only a month after you met. “Frankie! That was–”

“I know,” he lifts his left hand to cup your face gently. “And I didn’t know it then. But I recognize it now. I was head over heels from the beginning.”

You throw yourself at him before he even finishes speaking, and he laughs as he wraps his arms around you. You press your face into his neck and let him hold you close. You feel like your whole body is tingling, head to toe. Frankie loves you.

You take a deep breath and say, voice steady and full of emotion, “I love you, too, Francisco Morales.” You feel his breath catch and you grin. “I’m in love with you.”

Frankie suddenly lets you go, and you almost stumble before he grabs your face in his hands to pull you in for a kiss.

It’s not what you imagined kissing Frankie would be like.

It’s better.

His hands are large and warm as he cradles your face gently between them. His lips are soft and firm as he presses his mouth to yours. You can feel the heat of his body against your own and you sigh as you let your weight rest against him, wrapping your arms around his waist. His thumb brushes your cheek as his tongue teases your bottom lip, and you start to open for him, eager. You feel more than hear the small moan that escapes you. Frankie smiles against your lips and wraps one of his hands around the back of your neck.

That’s when you’re interrupted.

“I’ll get it going!” Benny comes barreling out of the back door, shouting about the firepit. Frankie doesn’t step away from you but he breaks your kiss, looking up to watch as Benny jogs past the two of you. He doesn’t seem to notice you standing by the tree.

“Fuck,” Frankie releases a breath and rests his forehead against yours. “Fuckin’ Benny.” You can’t help but laugh, and Frankie joins you. Your laughter seems to finally attract his attention.

“Well, hello, lovebirds.” You look over and find Benny grinning at you, hands on his hips, firepit forgotten. “What are you two up to back here, hiding behind that tree? Hmm?”

You roll your eyes at him as Frankie buries his face in your shoulder. “Well, we were having a pretty good dance, until someone interrupted.” You raise your eyebrows at him and he laughs before tilting his head at you, seeming to consider something.

“So this is a real date, then?”

You nod, and Frankie finally picks his head up to look at Benny. “Our first date.”

“Well, shit.” Benny winks at you. “You know, Fish, if you leave right now you can probably sneak around the side of the house before anyone realizes. Maybe take your date somewhere more romantic. And private.”

Frankie looks startled, and then smiles down at you. “Need anything from inside, querida?”

You bite your lip. “My bag and my coat are in there.” Frankie starts to frown, but Benny moves closer and interjects.

“Oh I can handle a little op like that, no problem.” He claps his hand on Frankie’s shoulder, grinning again. “You two go around the side and I’ll meet you out front. No one’ll notice. They’re all still in the living room.”

You both nod, and you can see the way Frankie relaxes. “Thanks, Benny.”

“Don’t mention it, man. Just go somewhere more romantic. Don’t hang out with us losers on your first date.” You laugh as Frankie takes you by the hand to lead you down the path that circles the house. Benny actually salutes before heading inside to take care of his part of the plan.

It must go off without a hitch, because he hands you your things by the front door and waves you onward, smiling. You and Frankie are both giggling as you sneak around the corner and run across the lawn. You practically leap into the passenger seat of his truck, grinning as you watch Frankie start it up and throw it into drive. He peels away from the curb so fast the tires squeal.

He reaches over to grab your hand once you’re on your way, lifting it to press a soft kiss to your knuckles that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Where to, hermosa? Want to go get a drink? Maybe some dessert?”

You turn and let your temple rest against your headrest as you consider it. Consider him. You’d love to go out with him on a real date, but right now there’s only one thing on your mind.

“Come home with me, Frankie?”

He grins at the road and squeezes your hand. “You sure you don’t want to go out for real, first?”

You lean forward and rest your elbows on the center console. Your joined hands fall into his lap and you smile as your hand comes to rest on his thigh. “I do want that. But we have all the time in the world to go out. I know what I want, Francisco.” You pause and he turns to look at you as he pulls to a stop at a red light. “You.” You watch as his eyes darken and you smile. “Take me home.”

Frankie nods eagerly and turns right when the light turns green, in the direction of your house. Only minutes later he’s pulling into your driveway and you’re out of the truck almost before he pulls the key out of the ignition.

He meets you as you round the front, arms snaking around your waist as he backs you up against the side of your garage.

“Hey, baby.” He leans in to press a soft kiss to your lips. You run your hands into his hair. “Shit, it feels so good to hold you like this.” He kisses you again, and this time you both get swept away in it. Until a car passes by on the street and you remember you’re still outside.

“Frankie,” you breathe his name as he presses soft kisses down the side of your neck. “Frankie, let’s go inside.”

“Mmm, in a minute.” He nibbles at a spot just below your ear and you whine, so quiet you can barely hear it.

“Francisco.” You try to sound stern, but you miss it by a mile. He laughs.

“Alright, alright.” He steps back and grabs your hands as they fall from his hair. “Let’s get inside, querida, I got plans for you tonight.”

You follow him towards your door with a grin. “Oh yeah? What plans are those?”

He tugs the keys from your fingers and opens the door for you, ushering you inside. “Well, the first item on the agenda tonight is licking your pussy until you come for me.”

You stumble, bracing yourself on the wall as you slip your shoes off, almost face-planting on the floor. You turn to look at him, incredulous. “Frankie!”

He’s looking at you with a cocky half smile and you feel the arousal pooling in your underwear. “Please, baby? I’ve been dreaming about it. For so long.” His words are a plea but his tone is something else entirely. He sounds so sure of himself. Your head spins and you turn to let your back fall to rest against the wall. Frankie is only this cocky when he knows, without a single doubt, how good he is at something. You know that, and you’ve heard the guys tease him for how much he likes doing it. The promise that underlies his words makes your legs feel like they might give out.

“Y-yes, Frankie,” you breathe and he steps forward to wrap you up securely in his arms. “Yes.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs. He kisses your cheek and starts to walk with you towards your bedroom. Before you can even catch your breath he’s easing you down onto the edge of your bed and kneeling in front of you. “Can’t wait to get my mouth on you, hermosa. Lo necesito.” (I need it.)

Sitting in front of him, you reach for your clothes and smile as you tease him. “Lo necesitas? Really?” (You need it?)

“Sí, querida,” he helps you remove your clothes until only your underwear is left. “Estoy desesperado.” (I’m desperate for it.) He winks and then leans forward to press a kiss over your underwear. “Por favor? (Please?) Let me make you feel good. I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good. Lo prometo.” (I promise it.)

You shiver at his words and move to slip your underwear off. As you do he leans forward and pushes your thighs apart. His gaze is locked on your pussy as you reveal yourself to him.

“Baby, you are so fucking beautiful. Every bit of you.” His eyes raise to meet yours and your breath catches at the look on his face. “Relax, let me take care of you.”

You fall backwards onto the bed at his urging. Frankie leans forward again and presses a soft kiss to your slit. Your fingers tangle in his hair without you even realizing you were going to do it. He slides one hand upwards from your thigh and gently opens up your pussy under his gaze.

“Hermosa,” he breathes, and you feel it on your clit. You squirm. “Lo sabía. Estás tan mojada, bebita. Es todo para mí?” (I knew it. You’re so wet, baby. Is this all for me?)

You lift up on your elbows to meet his gaze and nod, grinning. “Always for you, Frankie.”

“Mm,” he hums and moves forward to lick a devastating stripe from your entrance up to your clit. “Que cosita tan linda. Tan deliciosa.” (What a pretty little thing. So delicious.) And then he stops talking, focusing fully on eating you out with devastating precision.

His tongue teases at your clit before pressing down firmly, sending a spike of pleasure shooting up your spine. His fingers tease at your entrance while he finds a rhythm with his tongue that has you clutching at this hair. “Yes, Frankie–”

He presses forward lightly with one finger, slipping inside of you, and you moan. You’ve caught yourself staring at his hands so many times and the stretch is better than you ever imagined. He curls it and presses inside of you at the same time as his tongue circles your clit, and you shiver. His tongue and his fingers work together to push you higher and higher as you struggle to keep from closing your thighs around his head.

Fuck, he really is good at this. He slips another finger inside of you and you gasp, arching your back.

Frankie reads you like a book – he learns from every moan, every breath, and soon you’re almost there. You feel it, just out of reach as he holds you on the edge.

“Frankie, I’m– I’m gonna–” Your voice is breathy as you thrust your hips towards his mouth. He hold you down with one hand while he fucks you with the other.

He leans back for just a moment, moving his thumb up to replace his tongue, drawing gentle circles around your clit. “I know, querida. I can feel it. Dámelo.” (Give it to me.) He dives back in and opens his mouth against your pussy, and you cry out.

He hums, and you feel it through his tongue and his lips. He thrusts his fingers inside at the same moment and you feel yourself start to fall over the edge.

“Frankie–” You arch your back and tug at his hair. He suddenly moves his mouth downwards as his fingers take over teasing your clit, and your breath comes out like a sob when he pushes his tongue inside of you. “Yes, please–”

One more thrust of his tongue and a clever movement of his fingers and you’re gone. You rocket over the edge into an orgasm that feels years in the making, like Frankie has been stoking the fire and then set it ablaze for you now. You think you say his name, but you can’t be sure. Your entire body is trembling as it washes over you.

You take a great, heaving breath, and lift your head up to look for Frankie again. He has his chin resting on your pelvis, clearly waiting for you to come down. He’s smiling, eyes half open. His hair is a wild mess. His face glistens with evidence of where’s been.

He looks so fucking smug. You look at him and you feel something tug at your heart.

“You’re fucking beautiful when you come, querida.” His lips are quirked in a half smile but his voice is deep, almost gravely. He dips down swiftly to press a gentle kiss against your clit, and your legs twitch. “Better than I ever imagined. Never seen anything so pretty in my life.”

You cup his face in your hand and smile. “Shit, you really are good at that.”

He tilts his head. “At what?”

You roll your eyes but indulge him. “At using your mouth.”

Frankie grins, clearly delighted. “Well, when you’re properly motivated, it’s easy to practice until you get it right.” He winks at you.

You laugh and shake your head. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmm,” he hums as he pushes himself up, crawling over you on the bed. “Of course. And you know I have to keep my skills up. Keep practicing.”

“Is that an offer, Francisco?”

You feel him press his grin to your neck and you smile at the ceiling. “I’ll eat your pussy any time you like, querida. Just say the word.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Best thing I ever tasted. Only thing I want to do from now on, put my mouth all over you.”

You squirm a little, overwhelmed by his praise. “How are you still fully dressed?”

He laughs and sits back, straddling your hips. “Want me to strip for you baby?”

You nod and push at him lightly until he stands up. “Give me a show, Frankie.”

Frankie stands back and smiles, a little shy as he raises his hands to his buttons. “Am I supposed to dance?”

You tilt your head to one side and smile at him. “Frankie, you know I love the way you look. You could just pull your shirt off normally and I’ll be staring, totally distracted. It’s what happens every single time anyway.”

He furrows his brow. “How have we never noticed?” He’s deftly undoing his buttons now and you’re watching intently as each one reveals more of his chest to you.

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

He smirks as he shrugs his shirt off, and you bite your lip but keep staring at his arms anyway.

“I mean, querida, how did we never notice we’ve been looking all this time? I mean, I know I was looking at you. Shit, the way you look in your bathing suit? Those little shorts you wear around the house on your days off?” He sighs, closing his eyes like he’s picturing it, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks. You laugh at yourself, just a little, because you’re sitting naked in front of this man and you still react to his teasing like this. “You’ve been killing me, hermosa. And you’re saying you’ve been looking at me, too?”

You reach for him as he undoes his belt and help him with the button and zipper of his jeans. “Maybe we were both too scared of getting caught. To see what was right in front of us.”

Frankie strips off his jeans and the sight of him in just his black briefs stops your breath. You reach out and run your hands down his broad chest and hips, sliding around the back to squeeze his ass in both hands. You grin up at him. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

He smiles back and steps closer. You can see how hard he is in his briefs and you move to tug at the bottom hem, hand on his thigh. “One last act in your show, Frankie.” You start to pull and he lets you, moving his legs apart to make it easier as you slide his briefs down his legs. His cock springs lightly from the waistband and your eyes widen.

You knew Frankie was big. You’ve been swimming together, after all, many times. His body isn’t a total mystery to you. You’ve also heard the guys teasing him for it. But you’ve never seen him hard.

He’s big. His cock is beautiful – long, yes, but really what’s blowing your mind is how wide it is. How much girth it has.

“Shit,” you breathe, and without your conscious input your hand moves from his briefs to his cock. You lightly brush your fingers down his length and smile as it sends a shiver up his spine. When you look up and meet his eyes they’re dark, and hungry. “Frankie, you’re huge.” You punctuate your statement with a firm grip of his cock, and his hips thrust forward as you slide your hand up and down, once. You watch as his eyes flutter closed and his mouth drops open.

“Fuck,” his voice is deep, deeper than you’ve ever heard it. “Yeah? Big enough for you, baby?” You can hear it in his voice again – he knows. He knows how big his cock is and you feel your arousal growing as you think about how he probably knows exactly what to do with it.

“Francisco.” He looks down to meet your gaze. He’s breathing hard already, cheeks tinged pink and mouth wide. “Fuck me.” You say it firmly, steady, no hesitation. A slow, cocky grin takes over Frankie’s face and your eyes widen.

“Querida, I will give you everything you want.” He crowds you back onto the bed, shifting so you’re lying in the middle with him hovering over you. You brush your hands across his shoulders and marvel at how beautiful he looks like this, holding himself up, surrounding you. The head of his cock brushes against your stomach and you both moan. “That’s all I want. All I’ve ever wanted. To give you what you want. Always.” He murmurs the last word into your throat as he runs his right hand down your side, fingers seeking out your pussy again. When he finds how wet you are, even more than before, he nips lightly at your jaw with a smile. “Shit. You think you can take it, hermosa?”

You nod, eyes falling closed. Frankie presses inside you again with two fingers and you sigh. “Let me open you up a bit, first. Get you ready.”

“Frankie–” you try to protest, hands tangling in his hair to urge him onward, and he chuckles, darkly.

“I don’t want to hurt you, baby. Not ever. Let me take care of you.” You nod and let him work you open on his fingers, gasping every time he brushes against that spot inside of you that makes you see sparks. After a few minutes he’s thrusting three fingers in and out and the sounds of how soaked you are fill the room.

The feeling of him above you and around you is overwhelming. You run your hands up and down his arms and chest and marvel that you can, that you’re allowed to reach out and touch. Finally. After so long.

It feels so good, you can’t wait any longer. “Now, Frankie, please–”

He nips at your shoulder again and curls his fingers inside of you. “Now, hermosa? Quieres algo?” (You want something?)

You poke him in the side and he laughs. You feel the love you have for his man start to well up inside of you. “You know what I want, Frankie.”

��Mmm,” he hums and presses a line of soft kisses down your neck. “Quiero oírte decirlo, bebita.” (I want to hear you say it, baby.)

You nod and pull him into a short kiss. You hold him there, lips brushing yours, as you say, “I want you to fuck me, Frankie. I want your cock. I want you to stretch me open. I want to feel you, everywhere.” He shudders and you can’t tear your eyes away from the effect your words have on him. His arms tremble and his shoulders hitch up by his ears. His hips stutter forward and he presses quick kisses to your mouth and chin and neck and mouth again.

“Shit. I know you’re on birth control, baby, do you have a condom?” You both know how long it’s been since either of you had sex. He is your best friend, after all.

You don’t hesitate. “Don’t need one.”

“You sure?”

“I just want you, Frankie. Always have.”

“Fuck,” he breathes the word into your mouth before pulling you into another kiss. “How’d I get so fucking lucky, huh?”

As he speaks, Frankie reaches down to spread open your pussy. He slides his cock against you, nudging your clit with the head. You pull him into another kiss. For a moment he just thrusts against you, and the slide of his length against you makes your head spin.

On the next thrust, he moves his mouth to your ear as he pulls his hips back. “You are so fucking beautiful, you know that? I can’t believe you’re here, with me. Can’t believe I get to touch you like this.”

The head of his cock notches against your entrance and you both suck in a sharp breath.

“Fuck, querida, if I’d have known? That you wanted this?” He begins to thrust forward and you feel the head of his cock stretch you open. Your next breath sounds like a sob. “All I want is to take you apart. To make you feel so fucking good you can’t think of anything but my cock inside of you, my tongue on your pussy.” He thrusts inside shallowly, and you wrap your arms around his neck. He presses a kiss to your neck under your ear and you whine, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“Look, querida.” He lifts up and looks down your bodies, pulling his hips up until just the tip is still inside of you. You stare. “Mira como me toma.” (Look how she takes me.) He thrusts back inside and you moan as you watch. He fills you up completely, this time, and you’re so fucking full you can barely breathe. You can feel every inch of him and it’s everything you’ve wanted.

“Yes, Frankie, yes—“

“Yeah?” He finds a rhythm and you feel it start to build inside you again, climbing up your spine. “Así no? Así te gusta?” (Like that yeah? You like that?)

You nod, and he kisses you. His hips keep up their devastating rhythm and you try to rise to meet him. You can feel yourself getting closer, and Frankie must sense it, somehow, because he slides his right hand down to gently circle your clit. You arch your back at the touch and he slams into you again, hard.

“Yes, I—“

“I know. I can feel it. Come on, baby. Come for me. Just like that.”

And you do. When Frankie tells you to, you do — you feel it like a lightning strike down your spine. It washes out your vision and steals your breath. You cry out, maybe his name, maybe something wordless, and you come back to yourself and realize he’s murmuring in your ear as his thrusts pick up speed.

“… no sé cómo es posible que tengo tanta suerte. Que eres mía. Ay, hermosa, mi preciosa, mi— fuck—“ (I don’t know how it’s possible that I got this lucky. That you’re mine. Oh, beautiful, my precious, my— fuck—)

You tangle your hands in his hair again as you feel his hips stutter forward. “Yes, Frankie. Come for me, baby.”

He moans and thrusts forward again. You tug at his hair to pull his gaze up to meet yours. His eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open, wrecked.

You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and murmur, “así amor así. Dámelo.” (Just like that, love. Give it to me.)

You watch as he thrusts forward one last time and his orgasm washes over him. It’s fucking beautiful. You’ve known him for so long and still you’ve seen so much of him tonight that you’ve never seen before. It’s overwhelming and you want more. You want everything.

“Querida,” he breathes as he lets his head fall forward and gently rests his forehead against your own. “You are so fucking beautiful when you come.”

You laugh, poking him in the side. “You are too, baby.”

He smiles and kisses you softly. “I can’t believe how good that was. It’s gonna be hard to get out of bed, knowing what’s waiting for me.”

You nod. You know exactly what he means.

He lifts his hips to gently slide out of you and you gasp. “Sorry, querida, let me clean you up.”

“Hey, wait.” Before he can move too far away, you catch him and pull him so he’s leaning over you again on one elbow. You brush his sweaty curls off his forehead. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Frankie.”

He smiles so wide his eyes crinkle and you feel your heart skip a beat.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, querida. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

...

a/n: Happy Valentine's Day! I hope you liked it, Jenn!!

taglist: @jupiter-soups @beardedjoel @morallyinept if you're on my taglist for maintenance request, let me know if you want to be tagged in general?

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

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reysdriver · 11 months

Text

One Call | E.M.

Eddie calls you to pick him up from the police station — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: eddie gets taken to the police station for peeing in the lake lol

words: 0.8k

“Alright, you know the drill. Someone’s gotta pick you up; you get one call.” Your dad told Eddie, even though they had been through this routine before. “Your uncle again?”

Eddie shook his head. “Nah, Wayne’s out of town. Fishing trip with his buddies. He told me not to bother him unless it’s an emergency.”

“This doesn’t qualify as important enough to call?” One of the officers piped up.

Eddie turned his neck to look at the cop. “Nope. This is just a normal Tuesday for me.”

Your dad held the phone out for your boyfriend. “Well, you got anyone else you can call?”

Eddie held back a mischievous grin, taking the phone. “I have one person I can call, but I don’t think you’re gonna be happy about it.”

✦✧✦✧✦

You rushed down to the station as quickly as possible, only making one stop along the way to grab a peace offering from Benny’s. Before going inside, you looked through the window to scan the tone of the building, making sure it was okay to go inside.

You opened the door and saw Eddie in handcuffs at one of the officers’ desks, twirling a pen with his fingers. Before he got the chance to look up at you, your dad came out from his office looking surprised to see you.

“Hey, kiddo, what are you doing here?” He asked.

You held out the take-out bag for him. “I, uh, I brought you lunch.”

“She’s got ulterior motives, Hopper!” Eddie piped up from across the room. You turned and shot him a glare, along with a whispered 'shut up'.

Your dad looked confused, now starting to understand the food you brought. "What's he talking about?"

There was an awkward silence as you tried to figure out how to word the reason you were really here.

"Well, Dad, I'm also here to pick Eddie up."

He dropped the takeout bag on the nearest desk and pointed an accusatory finger at Eddie, who sported a smirk.

“This punk?” Your dad asked, raising his voice. “You’re friends with this punk?”

Much to your dismay, Eddie spoke up again. “Dating, actually. But I can’t believe it either, Hopper, honestly.”

Even in the tensest of moments, your Eddie still finds a way to flatter you. You wanted to smile and thank him, but then you remembered he was just brought into the police station and hadn’t told you why, so you stopped yourself.

“Yeah, Dad, I am. And I know that you can’t stop me from bailing him out, so give me the form to sign.”

The officer whose desk Eddie was sitting at handed you a clipboard and a pen so you could sign and say that you would bail him out and keep him out of trouble for the time being. You flashed a cocky smile to your dad and started filling out the blanks.

Your dad rubbed his forehead like he was tired of everyone around him—which he was. “Don’t give her the clipboard until I’m done scolding her.” He mumbled.

“You know I brought him in for pissing in Lover’s Lake with his punk friends, right?”

You did not know that. But you weren’t going to let him win this round.

“Oh, like Lover’s Lake isn’t already full of piss!” You countered.

“Is that really the hill you want to die on?”

You forcefully handed the completed clipboard to the officer while rolling your eyes.

“I don’t want to die on any hill, I just want to pick up my boyfriend!”

Eddie gasped happily as the man took off his handcuffs. “She called me her boyfriend.”

You had to admit, it made you happy too. Even though you were mad at everyone in the room, your angry expression morphed into a smile. “I know, it felt good to say.” You then turned back to your dad. “I’m going now. If you have more to say to me, we can talk tonight.”

With that, you and your boyfriend started walking towards the door. He opened it for you and motioned for you to go first. You started to walk out, but shot a glare at Eddie as you walked by. He messed up and he knew it.

Before Eddie closed the door behind you, your dad shouted one last thing at you. “You know, kid, just ‘cause he’s out of trouble, doesn’t mean you are!”

You looked back at him through the doorway. “Oh, believe me, Dad, he’s not out of trouble yet!”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x hopper!reader #jim hopper #stranger things #stranger things fluff

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honeyedmiller · 4 months

Text

Tangled Sheets | Frankie Morales

pairing: frankie morales x f!bombshell!reader

rating: 18+, minors do not interact.

warnings: somewhat shy frankie, probably nothing about this is canon except for the five men, drinking, smut (f oral receiving and unprotected piv), one (1) smack to the ass, praise, acquaintances to (potential) lovers, multiple uses of sweet pet names, no use of y/n.

word count: 4.4k

synopsis: frankie finds himself infatuated with you and even though he’s not the best flirt, he shows you other ways he can put his mouth to good use.

divider by @saradika-graphics

(sorry for any mistakes. this was not revised well)

The night air swirls around your body as you and your best friend walk to the front door of a busy bar. Her brother, Benny, is back in town and invited you both for some drinks with him. Of course, what comes with Benny, comes with the four other guys you’ve come to slowly know over the last couple of years.You’ve met her brother and his friends a handful of times—all handsome, but not enough to intrigue you… except for one.

Frankie Morales.

He was generally the quiet one of the group; much more of an observer than a talker. You’d always been intrigued by him. You’d always share heated glances with him, the other too stubborn to break eye contact until one of you is whisked away by someone else in the group.

It was New Year’s Eve and you were just going to sit at home watching Dick Clark’s NYE special on TV, so when Stephanie invited you out for drinks, you couldn’t say no.

You had a hunch you’d be seeing the boys tonight, and with one particularly on your mind, you wanted to impress him just a little—something that would grab his attention, keep his eyes on you, and have him wanting you.

You turned heads everywhere you went, though. Your beautiful looks and killer personality always had people easily wrapped around your perfectly manicured fingers—not that you wanted them to be. It’s just how it was.

You were a charmer without trying and any man or woman would’ve loved to chat you up to see if they could take you home. Many have tried, but never succeeded.

Your heels clicked on the sidewalk as you reached the door of the bar, arm interlinked with Stephanie’s. You fish your ID out of your purse to show the bouncer, and he lets you both in with a ‘have a great night’. You toss him a kind smile over your shoulder before your eyes roamed the bar, patrons laughing and trying to talk over the thumping 70’s music that was playing while enjoying their drinks and the company of friends.

“Oh, I see them! C’mon.” Stephanie tugged your arm, and you followed her to be met with the boys: Benny, Will, Tom, Santi, and Frankie.

He looked good.

Before you could not so subtly assess how mouthwatering he looked even further, Santi called your name and held his arms wide open. You grinned and hugged him, strong arms enveloping you for a quick second before his lips met your cheek.

“Nice to see you again.” He says, taking a swig from his beer bottle.

“You too, Santi.” You gave his arm the faintest squeeze before moving on to Benny, giving him the same greeting you did to Santi. You moved down the line of men with greetings before stopping short with Frankie, not entirely sure how to address him.

His eyes were scanning your body adorned with a short, sparkly champagne colored dress and strappy wine red heels. You felt your body heat up with the way his intense gaze was roaming your figure from top to bottom.

You stepped closer to him with a small smile, hand gently landing on his insanely toned bicep.

“Hey, Frankie. You look good.” That’s all you say before taking a step back, hand dropping from his arm too soon for his liking. His cheeks burned red at your compliment. He swallowed hard as his deep brown eyes met your gaze, tipping his beer bottle neck to you in a ‘cheers’ fashion.

“You too, sweetheart.” He says, and you offer him a genuine grin before turning to the bar. You flag down the bartender easily, ordering a Paloma. As the bartender works on your drink, you feel Frankie’s eyes burning a hole in your body. You turn your head to look at him and rest your chin in the palm of your hand as your elbow supports you on the sticky bar top.

You eye him carefully, studying his features. His brown curls peek under the baseball cap he was wearing, and you reach out to brush one that had been resting on his forehead.

“I see you’ve got the whole Clark Kent thing going on.” You grin at him, twisting the curl around the tip of your finger before letting it go.

He offers you a shy grin and drops his gaze to the beer bottle in his hand.

“Need a haircut.” He mumbles.

“Mm. I think it’s sexy.” You shrug, and his eyes shoot back up to your face. Before he can say anything, the bartender hands you your drink and shoots a wink your way, saying it’s on the house. You gingerly take it and graciously thank the bartender, sipping your drink.

A pang of jealousy oddly wrapped around Frankie in that moment, wishing he was as suave at the bartender. He wanted to at least flirt back to you, but he had to face reality. You were a bombshell. You made him tongue tied. Him trying to flirt with you would simply end in pure fucking disaster.

Frankie always thought you were gorgeous, and itt was no surprise that you turned heads.

What he didn’t get, though, is why you were flirting with him suddenly. Was it a bet? Did you get put up to do this? Why him?

Out of all the men that were ogling you in the bar tonight, you only gave him the attention.

“So how’ve you been?” You ask, deciding that the heated glances were too much to bear.

“Uh, I’ve been alright,” He sets his beer bottle down onto the bartop, habitually scratching his forearm nervously. You watch him with a careful, steady gaze and a soft smile on your lips. “How about you, sweetheart?”

That nickname sends heat through your body once more, making you unintentionally clench your legs together.

Frankie notices.

He wants to smirk, thinking that maybe you really did have an interest in him. But again, why him?

“I’ve been good. Just busy with work and all.” You shrug, taking another sip of your drink. He grinned at you as you maneuvered yourself onto the barstool next to him, crossing one leg over the other. Your undivided attention was on him, and the tension rolls off your shoulders and eases, dissipating into the slightly warm air of the bar.

As you and Frankie began to immerse yourself in comfortable conversation, the group behind you took notice. They were shocked to see you two actually talking instead of just staring at each other with imaginations wandering completely wild.

You reach out your hand to gently grasp Frankie’s kneecap, and he swore his cock twitched in his jeans from your feather-light touch. He withheld a groan, gazing at you curiously.

“I have to go to the restroom, but I’ll be right back.” You say, and he nods. He instinctively puts his hand over the rim of your drink, pulling it closer to himself on the bartop.

You summon Stephanie and ask her to go to the restroom with you, and as soon as you two leave the vicinity, all four men look at Frankie with quirked eyebrows and knowing smirks.

“‘Bout damn time, Fish.” Santi says, chuckling behind the rim of his schooner.

“For what?” Frankie asks, a perplexed look overcoming his features as he stares back at his friends.

“You’re kidding, right? It’s about time you two actually talked to each other instead of, you know, just eye fucking.” Benny laughs, and Frankie’s cheeks go red.

“Give him some slack, asshole, he’s always been the quiet one. Nothing wrong with that.” Santi chastised Benny. “But seriously, Fish, you go get your girl.”

“I highly doubt I could. Have you seen her? She’s a total catch, and I’m, well…” Frankie huffed a laugh as he shook his head, eyes averting to his jean-clad thighs.

“You kidding me brother? She ogles over you just like you do to her. We see the way she looks at you. Take your chance with this one, Frankie. Trust us.” Benny says, and the other three nod their heads in unison.

“Doesn’t hurt to try, man.” Will pipes in, and Frankie twists his mouth to the side. After a beat, he nods, looking at his friends.

“Okay. But if this backfires, I’m blaming all four of you fuckers and I’m going ghost.” Frankie says, and Santi holds his hands up in surrender.

“Understood.” Santi grins at Frankie just as you and Stephanie round the corner.

Your body was hot with the conversation you just had with Stephanie replaying in your mind. She was grilling you about Frankie, and finally got you to ‘fess up about your undeniable attraction toward the beautiful brown-eyed man that sat patiently at the end of the bar for your company once more.

You slide onto the barstool again, and Frankie slides your drink back over to you. You thank him and get into another invigorating conversation, time slowly fading into the abyss of the evening. Before you know it, it’s ten minutes before midnight.

The whole bar is drunkenly shouting lyrics to Piano Man by Billy Joel, awaiting to ring the new year in. Even your friends are all in it, singing the lyrics as loud as they can while their drinks slosh side to side in their glasses as they sway.

Amidst all the chaos, you and Frankie look at each other with goofy grins plastered on both of your faces.

“You know,” He starts, finishing off the last of his final drink of the night, “I’ve always had a thing for you. Ever since I first laid my eyes on you all those years ago, I always thought you were the prettiest woman in the room.” Frankie’s lips twitch into a shy smile as you look at him in shock, his admission the last thing you were expecting from him.

“Frankie,” You breathe. “I feel the same way. I know we only really know each other in passing, but I’d really like to get to know you, well, better.” You’ve slid off the stool now, standing in between his spread legs.

You rest a hand on his chest to feel his heart hammering beneath your fingertips, and you grin at the sensation. You don’t know how long you both stand there just looking at each other, but it must’ve been a good few minutes before the patrons of the bar start counting down sixty seconds to midnight.

Frankie pulls you closer by your waist, hand fully splaying on the small of your back as your hand slides up to the back of his neck, dragging your fingertips across his warm skin. Your nails slightly scrape him and it makes him shiver.

He chuckles as the last ten seconds are being counted down. “Querida, please let me kiss you.” His simple ask almost sounds like a plea, and you didn’t even have to think twice about it before you nod your head.

“—Three, two, one, happy new year!—”

And he’s on you. He closes the gap between your bodies, free hand cradling the back of your head as he smashes his lips to yours with such desperation and fervor. The contrast between the neediness of the kiss and his soft lips is dizzying, and you were trying to find your ground. You felt like you were floating.

It’s all teeth and haste and desperation to taste one another, to chase that feeling of intimacy before it slips through your fingers. Except, it’s not slipping, and Frankie is here and he’s proven to you that he wants you just as badly as you want him.

It’s poetic, in a sense. The guy who never thought he had a chance gets the dream girl with the beautiful looks and killer personality—the one that has him so tightly wound around her perfectly manicured finger—and he can’t believe this is his reality right now.

You pull apart from him, breath ragged and heartbeat racing.

“Frankie, please take me home. With you. Wanna go home with you.”

He kisses you again before groaning, pulling apart as he nods. You make sure it’s okay with Stephanie that you leave without her before you exit the bar with him hand in hand. Santi sports a proud look on his face, and Frankie knows it: fucking finally, Fish.

The ride home is filled with so much tension, and Frankie keeps a firm hand on your thigh as he rubs circles into your warm skin.

When he pulls up to yours, you both barely even make it inside before he’s on you again, lips slotting themselves between yours once more. He has you up against the front door of your apartment, fingers grazing the side of your thigh just below the hemline of your dress.

He keeps you there for a while, relishing in the pure intimacy of kissing you. His hands roam everywhere except for where you need him most, and it nearly becomes unbearable as your throbbing core begs for some relief.

You pull away from him, knocking his hat off of his head to display his messy curls. You card your fingers through his locks, holding on to the nape of his neck as you rest your forehead against his.

“C’mon, let’s take this to the bedroom.” You whisper, and he nods against you before you lace your fingers with his. You lead him down the hall and into your room, shutting the door behind you.

He takes a few steps into your room, and at first, his broad body looked so out of place. His thumbs hook nervously into the front belt loops of his jeans, taking in his surroundings.

White walls are adorned in pictures and a few posters from your favorite bands and movies. A record player sits next to your desk on the left of your room underneath the window with vinyls stacked neatly on the ground. Your queen-sized bed with the white comforter and terracotta pillow cases sits in the middle of your room, neatly made, calling your names. A white dresser and makeup vanity sit on the right side of your room. Your dresser has a few decorations and a candle atop a candle warmer, and it’s neat—unlike your vanity that’s in a complete disarray.

You were in a hurry to get ready before you left, not having a care in the world that your vanity was a complete mess. That was a problem for a later time.

Frankie smiled at the thought of you rushing to get ready to head out to the bar. You didn’t even need the makeup though—you were naturally so gorgeous and captivating, which is why nerves seeped into Frankie’s bones once more.

He relished in the thought of being in your space. Your sanctuary. He knew what was coming next, but to his surprise, you made the first move. You step behind him and wrap your arms around his torso, one hand trailing down to the waistband of his pants. You slipped your hand underneath the cream colored shirt he wore, cold fingers splaying across his hot abdomen. You kiss his neck once before he slowly turns in your grip, eyes searching for any regret or warning that he shouldn’t go further.

There were none.

He grabbed your waist and gently walked you back toward your bed. The backs of your knees hit the mattress and he was coaxing you to sit down, so you obliged to his silent plea.

Frankie sank to his knees before you, one hand on each of your kneecaps as he gave you a curious look—a knowing look. A look that was dangerous and had the deepest, hottest parts of your core reeling to be touched by him.

You bite your bottom lip, reaching a hand out to caress his stubble on his chin before dropping your hand over one of his, guiding it up the warmth of your flesh. Goosebumps rise onto your skin as his fingertips skate over you, up up up until he reaches the hem of your dress once more. He continues to push his hand up until he’s at the apex of your thighs, rubbing soft circles over your skin.

“Take off your dress for me. Please.” His voice is hoarse, almost pained. You oblige and he helps you slip the material over your head, and you’re left in front of him in just your bra, underwear, and heels.

He could kneel before you all day and gawk at how much of a goddess you are, but he was a man on a mission. He wanted to please you, make you beg, enjoy every moment he had with you.

Frankie starts to unravel the straps of your heels, purposefully skimming his fingers over your legs. He leans forward and presses light, delicate kisses against your thighs, trailing his lips up to the apex.

Your breathing was getting heavier each second, the carnal desire for this man almost too much to bear. Once both heels were off, he gently tossed them to the side before fully kneeling on his heels. His gaze ran over your clothed core, seeing you were already soaked.

He groaned before shaking his head, smacking his tongue against his teeth in a teasing manner.

“Look at you, querida. You this wet because of me?” He asks, half in awe, half in desire.

You nod your head frantically. “Frankie, baby, please—” Your voice is nearly a whine. He shushes you gently, thumbs rubbing circles near your aching core. Always so fucking close, but never close enough. Always everywhere and nowhere at the same fucking time.

“Don’t worry gorgeous. I’ll take care of you. Promise.” His voice is a near whisper as he leans forward to press kisses against your inner thighs once more, moving up before he’s nosing at your slick coated panties.

The moan you let out when he kisses you there is almost sinful. “Frankie,” You beg, eyebrows threaded together. “Fuck.”

“I know mamas.” He coos, kissing your core through the soaked material before hooking his fingers through the band, looking up at you for permission. You let out the faintest please before he tapped your hips so you could lift them and he could slide your underwear down your legs.

He was met with your glistening core, puffy and aching and begging. He hums satisfactorily, moving your legs over his shoulders as his arms wrap around your thighs. Blunt fingernails dig into your flesh as he positions his face right before your slick core. He places one last kiss to your thigh, the scrape of his beard setting your skin aflame.

You reach down to slot your fingers into his thick curls to encourage him, and he wastes no more time as he licks a long, hot stripe from your entrance to your clit. You gasp at the sensation, gripping onto his curls tighter as your body falls slack against the mattress.

And he’s not relenting. His mouth works you, licking and sucking your core in such an expert manner that it made you fucking dizzy.

“Frankie, oh—oh fuck.” You cry, shoving his face further into your slick cunt.

He hums against you, relishing in your taste. You’re sweet, something of nectar from a peach in the summer, and he wants to drink you down until you’ve got nothing left to give him. He’s meticulous with his tongue, already seeming to know what makes you tick and moan and writhe above him as his mouth works you to an unforgiving orgasm.

The sounds that reverberate off of the four walls of your bedroom are nothing less of obscene, wet smacking and suckling as more arousal gushes from you and pools around the lower half Frankie’s face.

And you feel it. You feel that sickeningly sweet white hot sensation licking at the base of your spine, growing and growing and growing until it sets your whole body ablaze.

Frankie feels your body tensing, so he takes the liberty of pushing two fingers into you to launch you over the edge.

“C’mon baby, c’mon baby– give it to me.” His words are slurred, completely pussy drunk off of you.

“Oh god oh god oh god—” You chant, and a whole galaxy explodes within you as your orgasm washes over you, body wrapped in a purely devastatingly euphoric feeling. Frankie licks up the remnants of your slick, sliding his fingers out of you before moving them up to your mouth.

“You deserve to taste how sweet you are too, cariño.”

You open your mouth and suck on his fingers, tasting the sweet tang of yourself before releasing them with a pop. He stands up, and a frown grows on your lips as you notice he’s still fully clothed.

“C’mere handsome.” You coax him onto the bed, and you run your hands down his body. You’re looking into his eyes before your fingers reach the hem of his shirt, pushing up in the slightest with a plea in your eyes. He nods, and you slide the shirt off of his torso and over his head, carelessly tossing the material to pool onto the floor with the rest of your discarded clothes.

Your nails trail down his torso lightly, scratching the tuft hair above his belt buckle. He noticeably shivers, and a grin curls onto your lips as you use your other hand to pull him down into a kiss. You both moan into each other as your hands roam his broad, muscular back before circling around to his front once more. Your hands work at his belt buckle and the button of his jeans before he separates from you, the same shy smile appearing on his lips.

“Want you, Frankie.” You murmur, and he leans down to kiss your forehead.

“I want you too, sweetheart.”

He stands and removes the rest of his clothing, and you couldn’t help but admire his body before he hovered over you once more. You wrapped one hand around the back of his neck gently before trailing your other hand down his torso once more, meeting the dark, coarse hairs above his throbbing cock.

“Please.” His voice is strained, eyebrows scrunched together as he nestles his face into your neck, kissing your pulse point repeatedly. You wrap your hand around his thick length, nearly moaning at the throbbing sensation you felt. You gave his silky flesh a few tugs before gathering the pre come on your thumb, moving your hand away from him to taste what he had to offer.

You slithered your hand back down as you swiped the tip of his head between your slick folds, eliciting a loud, desperate moan from both of you.

“Fuck, baby. So goddamn wet.” Frankie whimpers behind gritted teeth.

“Only for you.” You say, and he leans up to take over your hand on his cock. He positions himself at your entrance, looking into your eyes once more before you bite your lip with a nod. He pushes himself into you slowly, moaning at the feeling of your sweet warmth wrapped around him.

“So—fucking—tight,” He hisses, sinking to the hilt. You felt so fucking full and warm, and god—dare you say complete—wrapped around him like this.

You bring his face down to yours once more to kiss him with such pained and unmistakable fervor as he starts to move. He’s so fucking heavy in you, and every push and pull of him has your mind reeling.

He’s everywhere around you, all-consuming as he picks up his pace. The wet squelch of your arousal and skin slapping against skin is in perfect harmony with both of your moans.

“You know,” Your voice is breathy as you let out a small laugh. “Can’t believe you’ve been hiding all this the whole time.” Your fingers pull gently at his curls, and he huffed a laugh.

“I’m full of surprises, baby.”

He picks up the speed, tilting his hips up to hit that spongy spot inside of you that has you seeing stars once more.

“Fuck, Frankie. Feel s’good.” You cry, wrapping your legs around his body. Your heels dig into his lower back as you roll your hips to meet his thrusts, but it was nearly impossible.

Frankie halts his movements as he looks down at you, a smirk spreading onto his lips.

“Why’d you stop?” You pout, and he grips your hips as he slides out of you to flip you around.

“Ass up, baby.”

You don’t hesitate. You arch your back as you balance yourself on your forearms, gripping the sheets. He sinks into you once more, groaning as he bottoms out. The new sensation is otherworldly, and when he starts thrusting once more, your eyes roll to the back of your head. You cry out in pleasure, nails scratching the comforter below you.

“You like that baby?” Frankie grits, his hold on your hips nearly bruising. You were too fucked out to form a coherent sentence, so all you could do was nod frantically. Frankie laughs as he rubs the soft flesh of your ass soothingly before giving it a smack, and you moan at the stinging pain that quickly subsides into pleasure.

The same white hot pleasure starting brewing in your core once more, licking a flame up your spine as he relentlessly pistoned into you.

“I’m so fucking close, please don’t stop, pleasepleaseplease—” You’re a babbling mess underneath this man, searching for sweet release.

“There you go, sweetheart. That’s it. Let go, it’s okay, I got you.” He encourages, and his wish is your command. You’re convulsing around him, crying out his name as tears pool into the corners of your eyes.

“Where do you want me?” He asks, hips sputtering as he was on the brink of his own release.

“Inside, please, god—please.” You cry, and he comes undone at your words, his warm release filling you with everything he’s got. He slumps down onto you, kissing your back before rolling off of you. You’re both breathless, smiles adorned on your lips. He pulls you into him as he strokes your back gently, and you plant a kiss onto his chest.

“Please stay.” Your voice is a soft plea, and Frankie’s heart melts at the thought of you wanting him to stay with you.

“Of course, baby. Get some rest,” He kisses your forehead gently before you both get under the covers. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year.” You mumble back, already half asleep and completely content.

His thumping heartbeat is what lulls you completely, a newfound gratitude coursing through your whole being that you finally get to be with the man you’ve wanted for so long… especially wrapped around him in these tangled sheets.

tags: @party-hearses ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @cool-iguana ; @pamasaur ; @nostalxgic ; @pascalpvnk ; @tinygarbage ; @amanitacowboy

#Frankie morales #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fanfiction #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie friday #pedro pascal characters

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kiwisbell · 8 months

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Security Details: Chapter 1 [frankie morales]

Frankie’s long-time friend enlists his help. He's more than eager to accept the job. The problem is that he's in love with her.

chapter 1 | chapter 2

pairing: francisco "catfish" morales x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags and warnings for entire fic: abusive relationship (not between frankie and reader), murder, violence, BAMF frankie, protective frankie, possessive frankie, soft frankie, mutual pining, yearning, reader is not named but has a call sign (fox), frankie is dumb but he's got the spirit, angst, smut, fluff, partners to friends to lovers, happy ending, frankie spends most of this fic in his feelings, telltale signs of a fic written by a hopeless romantic, unprotected piv, breeding kink, creampie, oral sex, consensual somnophilia, english and spanish dirty talk, frankie going feral to keep his girl safe, possessive sex, blood and injury, undefined age gap

tags and warnings for this chapter: extremely/viscerally/unfathomably dumb frankie, mutual pining, so much yearning that my cup runneth over, foot-in-mouth syndrome, angst, abuse against reader, unrequited love

word count: ~ 10k

shrike is actually my all-time favourite hozier song and was the inspiration for this fic long ago. i still have a huge soft spot for this story; it is the ache of pining and the drive to be good enough for that one person you know will make everything better.

chapter 1: i couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted

Tomorrow is fight night for Benny, which means he’s taken to beating the shit out of his friends as a warm-up.

Frankie lifts his elbows in front of his face to block the next blow before taking a swing at Benny’s exposed stomach. The fighter ducks out of the way and lands his next punch—right to Frankie’s jaw. It’s enough of a hit to sting and throb, knocking his teeth around a little, and Benny immediately loses his gloves and claps Frankie on the shoulders.

“Shit. Shit, Cat, I’m sorry. You good?”

Frankie doesn’t feel any blood welling from his lip, so he considers it a draw. Still, he shakes out his knuckles, preparing for another round. “I’m good. Are you good?” He grins at Benny. “‘Cause I almost had you tapping.”

From outside the ring, Will whoops. “That’s right, Fish. Take his ass down.”

“Nah,” says Benny, sliding onto the floor off the ring and reaching for a towel. “Don’t feel like killing Frankie today.”

“Jackass,” says Frankie, joining the brothers on the floor. “Could’ve won.”

He and Benny slap their palms together, and the three of them silently agree to end Benny’s destructive training for the day. Frankie suspects his face will bruise by dinner tonight.

Will lies down on a bench and looks up at Frankie. “Where's Foxy? I know she could take Benny down.”

Frankie tries not to sound bitter when he grumbles, “Date night,” but fails. Benny and Will lock eyes, and the latter whistles, imitating an explosion with his mouth.

Frankie drops down to the floor, back up against the ring with his knees bent. “She knows her boyfriend’s a piece of shit, right?” asks Benny.

Frankie doesn’t want to talk about this, especially not when his friends know he’s the pathetic asshole who was too afraid to ask her out before someone else cut in. A someone else who has her showing up at the bar on their nights out with red eyes and strained smiles. The someone else who, despite being a well-rounded dickhead with control issues, still managed to get the girl.

He’s been with her through her boyfriends, just as she’s been through his singular attempt (and failure) at settling down. He hasn’t liked a single one of her partners, not even when they seemed to get along with Benny or Will or Pope or—in rare cases—all three. Frankie knows it’s because he can’t stand that every single time she introduces them to someone new, it means another guy who’s braver than he is. Another guy who beat him to the punch. Another few months wasted as his best friend stands within arm’s reach and remains altogether untouchable.

“She’s coming tonight, right?” asks Will.

“She is if it’s date night,” mumbles Benny, but Frankie hears him and bristles.

“Fuck off.”

“Kidding,” he says, lifting his hands in the air. “She probably doesn’t come, anyway. Not with that douchebag.”

“Fuck. Off.”

He has no right to say who she sleeps with, dates, or spends her time around. He has no more claim to her than he does to the throne of England. But shit, he can’t stand the thought of another man’s hands on her body. His hands tremble as he wipes them on his jeans and stands up. “See you dickheads tonight,” he says. “And stop talking about Fox’s sex life, or I’ll bury both your heads in sand.”

He slips his gym bag into the backseat of his truck when it begins to vibrate. He fumbles for his cell phone and looks at her profile picture, blown up large on his screen: a big smile on her face, her eyes glittering with mischief, as Pope’s pie-covered mouth kisses her on the cheek. He gives the camera a thumbs-up. Frankie had taken the picture.

Pope walked into the bar with Will and promptly received a meringue to the face.

“Happy birthday, Santiago!” she whooped, toasting her Cosmopolitan in the air. She loved fruity drinks on special occasions, and had managed to convince Ben and Frankie to order a Shirley Temple and Sex on the Beach, respectively.

“Come here, Foxy,” shouted Pope over the chaos of the bar.

Pope kissed her, sloppy and loudly, on the cheek. Frankie snapped a picture. Later, he would assign it to her contact on his phone.

He wanted to tell her she was beautiful that night, glowing and cheerful in her tight black dress. She was practically on his lap in the booth thanks to the big bodies of Ben and Will sandwiching her between them, spreading their legs. He suspected it was deliberate. Frankie kept his arm secured around her waist all night, never quite touching the soft skin at her back with his fingers. He was hard enough as it was.

“This okay?” she asked him, tentative and pleasantly flushed from her three drinks of the night.

It was loud as hell in the bar, but he could only hear the wash of her voice down his spine. “Yeah, Foxy. Don't worry about me.”

She tugged on a lock of his hair beneath his cap, now long enough to curl at his neck. “That's my job.”

I'm so in love with you.

He never told her. But he went home that night and fucked his hand twice in the shower. The week after, she introduced him to her latest boyfriend.

Frankie answers his phone. “Go for Frankie, Foxy.”

“Hey!” Her honeyed voice is a tonic. “I’m sorry I couldn't watch Benny beat you guys up, but I was out getting groceries for Matt.”

Frankie can't help it. It rears up from inside like a fire-breather. “Matt can't get his own groceries?”

His name leaves her mouth like a tired warning. “Frank…”

He feels like an asshole right away, slinging another arrow at her deadbeat boyfriend and making her upset, but Matt Erickson may truly be Frankie Morales’s archenemy. Not to put too dramatic a point on it.

The worst day of Frankie’s life was when she took that first bullet for him.

She's a good sniper. Damn good. She still smiles like she's never seen a battlefield. She treats it like a job where it counts, and sometimes he catches her kissing the ring on her index finger: silver, a gift from her father. He was killed in battle, and was the reason she joined. And she became deadly as she was sweet, gentle, a good dancer.

She can really dance.

She caught the sniper on the ridge faster than Frankie could register his body dropping just behind him. He whipped around to watch his skull hit the ground, his blood colouring the deadened earth. Frankie lifted a hand to the back of his head absentmindedly. He was untouched, unharmed.

“Shit, Morales,” she said breathlessly, approaching him after she scanned the horizon for more surprises and hopped down from her cover of cliffs. “Almost let him shoot you.”

He shook his head, mildly speechless, and checked her over for injuries. He tugged on her tactical vest the way he always does. She squeezed his arm. “That makes eighty confirmed. You gonna buy me a drink?”

He swallowed. “I’m going to buy every one of your drinks for the rest of your life.”

She grinned up at him.

He remembers the wind whipping her hair about her face, the glimmer in her eye. He doesn’t remember where the shot came from. He only remembers seeing her face fall and her eyes slide over his shoulder. He remembers her shifting them around, diving like a swan to block his body from something.

He heard the crack of the shot, then another as Will took him out with a shout. And he saw the blood blossoming at her hip. She reached out and steadied herself on his shoulder. “Oh, shit,” she gasped. “Oh, fuck, Frank. I wasn’t looking. That was really stupid. Wasn’t… Didn’t see…”

He still feels the panic when he recalls that day.

He slipped his rifle around to his front and scanned the cliffs through the scope, but Will’s cry of “CLEAR!” echoed through the valley. Frankie dropped to his knees in front of her and lifted up her shirt to bear her midriff to him. She clutched the straps of his vest to keep herself upright.

“How’s it look?” she managed to ask, trying to keep her breathing steady and her eyes open. She was handling it beautifully.

“It’s nothing,” he said, though the choked sound of it betrayed him. “Just a scratch.”

It wasn’t. The shot went clean through her hip and was bleeding badly enough to blanch her face. She was turning grey, her body trembling. “Thought so,” she said. “Frankie…”

She didn’t finish. Her eyes fluttered and her foot faltered. He gripped her good hip hard and squeezed. He needed to keep her talking.

“Why did you do that?” he said frantically, watching periodically for Will and Benny as they made their way around the ridge down to the valley. Frankie opened his medkit, but there wouldn’t be much in here that could do her good. He shucked off his extra layer—a thick down jacket that protected him from the wind up here—and pressed it to her wound. “That was stupid, Foxy. Real fucking stupid.”

“Oh, shut up,” she wheezed. “Saved your life, Cat. Don’t be an asshole.”

“Need you to hold onto me,” he said. “I’m going to sit you down, but you need to hold on. It’s going to hurt.”

She panted through her teeth as Frankie lowered her to the ground, sitting upright against a rock. He kneeled over her legs and continued to put pressure on her wound. She blinked hard from the pinching pressure. “Part of the job, right?”

“Shouldn’t be. Not you. Not fuckin’ you.” He kept the pressure, hard and steady, on her wound, but the sight of blood—her blood, the only blood that could send him into a panic—nauseated him.

She laughed, but it sounded nothing like her laugh. Her laugh was bells at noon, the sun high in the sky. This was hollow as a dead tree. “Thought this was an equal-opportunity workplace.”

She can weave stories and poetry from the smoky tendrils of death. By the embers of the fire, when they were the only two left awake, she would give him offerings.

One night, she had lain beside him, and they stared up at the stars between the wispy clouds. Frankie had to let their co-pilot Mickey go that day. He’d been a lost cause, unable to release the seat belt as their helicopter went up in flames. They ran for cover, and all Frankie could think was, You could have done more.

“When people die,” she had told him, “maybe their souls leave them for a reason. Maybe they have to leave because they need to bury themselves in the living. I think you’re keeping his soul safe, Frankie.”

It was the most profound piece of wisdom he’d ever heard, from her sleep-addled voice, next to him as they lay next to one another, barely touching, only watching the sky. It was only days after the team saw her signed on, and Frankie was already in love.

“Frank… Frankie… ” Her blood made things slippery and got on both of their hands. There was a small red heart on her hip when two droplets of blood joined together.

Funny.

“Frankie…” Her eyes begged him. She scrambled to keep holding onto his hand. “Don’t let me die. I really don’t want to die.”

It was so rare, like seeing the bright burning core of a comet. Watching her crumble, desperate, sand between his fingers. She was dying, and they both knew it.

Still, he couldn’t say it. He couldn’t do it the way he’d done with Mickey (“I’m sorry, I can’t get you out, we have to go”). “You’re not gonna die,” he told her, gritting his teeth and keeping pressure, keeping an eye on the pulse point at her sweat- and blood-slick throat. “Not gonna let you fuckin’ die, Foxy. Still need to give us that wisdom of yours, right?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice slurring as her eyes slipped shut for a moment. Only a moment, and the earth beneath Frankie’s feet shifted. But she blinked them back open. “You’re all idiots, and I need to be there to save your asses.”

“That’s right, baby,” he said softly, weakly.

Neither of them would mention the nickname after that—the first time he’d addressed her by anything but her name or call sign. In that moment, he existed to bring her comfort. He existed to keep her alive. Breathing, for all he cared, didn’t matter one bit.

“Where do you think we go when we die?” asked Frankie one day, stuck on a rooftop adjacent to hers, just the two of them tracking a target through their scopes. An elusive target. They’d been here four hours, bruising their hip bones on concrete and baking in the Colombian sun.

“Oh, Francisco,” crackled her voice in his ear. The sound of his name on her lips always struck his bones like hammers upon rocks. “We don’t die. Not you and me. We just float down the river and crawl out on the other end.”

“I like your wisdom,” he said. The air was hot and stiff, his forehead beading with sweat. “But that sounds awful wet.”

“Bet you could use a drink right now.”

“Damn right I could.”

“Whoever makes the shot buys the round,” she offered.

His heart soared with a hope he’d not yet learned to squash. “Just you and me?”

“That’s the only way to go, Frankie,” she said.

He found a beacon in her. Her heart was—is—a miraculous thing. It beats louder than everything else, hums like a soft melody, and casts its net across the reaches of the world. Her eyes find things nobody else’s can. Her smile reanimates dead things. She became a goddess to him. He wanted to hold that heart in his palms to see how brightly it glowed. He wanted to be the one with the privilege to keep it safe in his hands.

She didn’t die that day. Frankie lay into the evac team for taking so damn long and refused to leave her side even when they insisted there was no room left on the chopper. He didn’t give a fuck, not when her hand kept grasping his in a desperate, half-alive attempt to keep him close. He became a rabid animal, snarling at anyone who came too close or pushed too hard on her wounds or tried to separate them.

In her hospital bed back at their temporary base (this was a shitty covert job in Alberta, so the infirmary was more of a tent filled with stretchers than a state-of-the-art facility), she laughed at his latest joke.

“What’s a pirate’s favourite letter?”

“Frank, I’m in so much pain—”

“You think it would be R, but it be the C they love.”

“Oh, God,” she whispered, her hand covering her mouth. It was quiet in the tent, filled with sleeping and recovering bodies. “Can’t believe I saved your stupid ass. Must be all that love I’ve got.”

He froze. Love. She said love.

She said love, and yet there was a man waiting in her bed when she returned home with a new tale of glory to tell. A man who could never understand the things Frankie did, the things they spoke about under the stars when everyone else slept. She was off-limits. Untouchable. He wanted her more than anything in the world, and he could not have her. Because he could not say love.

“I’ll let you rest.”

He slipped his hand from hers and flexed it all the way back to his tent. It felt cold without her there. He just left her, alone and afraid to fall asleep. Afraid to close her eyes and never wake. He was the real coward.

“Did Matt get you to your appointment yesterday?” asks Frankie, trying for civility. “How did it go?”

She's been in physiotherapy since a bad fall shattered her ankle a few months ago. It's been making her antsy, off the field and stuck at home. “I walked,” she says idly, breezily, like she's trying to rush through it and move on. And she does. “We still on for tonight?”

He freezes.

“You what?”

“I walked,” she repeats.

“You walked.”

Her voice is vaguely amused. “That is what I said, Cat.”

Frankie makes a decision. The next time he sees Matt Erickson, he’s going to punch him in the face. Frankie doesn't like confrontation, but he'll go one-to-a thousand against a Viking army if it means she's happy and safe. Walking half an hour to a physiotherapy appointment with a bum ankle is not happy and safe.

“Frankie, I can hear your ears steaming,” comes her gentle voice in his ear. “I was fine. I didn't trip and the pain wasn't bad.”

“That's not the—” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “That's not the point. He was supposed to take you.”

He can't deny he's happy to hear a touch of bitterness when she says, “He got called into work.”

“Could've called me,” says Frankie, even though it's too late. “I would've taken you.”

“I’m okay,” she coos, patient as ever with him and his sour moods. “I promise you, Frank, I'm fine.”

He drops it for now. But if he sees her limping tonight, he's going to throw her asshole boyfriend into a Dumpster. “How's María?” she asks him.

He huffs out his laughter as he gets into the driver’s seat. His back protests with a pinch of pain. “Misses you like hell. Asked me on Sunday if you can babysit this weekend.”

“Did she ask that, or her daddy?” she says slyly. Frankie closes his eyes and briefly knocks his forehead into the steering wheel, all because she can't see him. The way she speaks is clear and gentle; intelligent. His cock seems to like the sound of daddy passing her lips.

“We collaborated,” he says sheepishly. She makes him so nervous.

“Mmm.” There's sounds of rustling, and he can picture her moving about the kitchen, smiling as she wedges the phone between her ear and shoulder and unpacks her groceries. “Well, I’m available Saturday night if you want to go out, have some fun. You know I’m always happy to spend some time with my favourite girl.”

Frankie has no plans for Saturday, and he isn't particularly keen on making any. He’ll make a last-minute excuse to stay in with his two favourite girls on the planet and he’ll go another night wanting her but refraining from stepping any closer than he should. “Yeah. I’ll think of something,” he says.

“Oh! And I picked up some more baby food since you're running low. I know she's almost eleven months, but she goes through that stuff like a vacuum cleaner.” Frankie’s heart is close to bursting. She treats his daughter like her own most days and thinks of things neither he nor Lisa do half the time. Frankie’s pretty sure Lisa is in love with her, too. She has that effect on people.

“Thanks, Fox,” he chokes out.

“And if your plans miraculously fall through,” she says playfully, “remind me to give you a haircut. Otherwise, I’ll be teaching María how to braid it.”

Self-consciously, he takes off his cap and ruffles his own hair. It is getting long again, curling around his ears and sticking up wildly when it’s humid, which is most days down here. “Yes, ma’am.”

Like everything else in her life, she treats Frankie’s haircuts with the utmost care and attention. She handles scissors as though they’re needles she must perfectly thread. Her haircuts are serviceable, and she asks for nothing in return except her next drink at the bar (he buys her drinks when they’re out together, anyway), but it’s the process he likes most.

“Ow.”

“Don’t be a dummy, Cat. I’m not hurting you.”

Her hands lathered the shampoo in his hair, her long nails (a treat for herself during her temporary leave thanks to a certain gunshot wound) digging deliciously into his scalp, reaching the roots of his head and into his brain and turning him wholly pliable beneath her touch. “No,” he mumbled. “Just keeping you on your toes, Foxy.”

It was an awkward job: sitting up against the bathtub with his head dangling uncomfortably under the detachable shower head while she washed his hair, sidled up next to him on her knees. He kept his eyes closed because if he opened them, his eyes would be level with her tits. She wore an old, ratty sweatshirt from his closet so she didn’t have to worry about getting hair all over her, but his imagination was a real son of a bitch. It liked to run wild with pictures of her body beneath all that fabric, soft and sweet. He would have wet dreams about her if she wore a paper bag every day.

“Lift your head for me, Frankie,” she said softly, cradling the back of his neck to support it as she washed the shampoo from his scalp. When they were finished, he shook out his hair like a wet dog and splattered her with water. “Frankie!”

Her shrieks alerted María, so she picked up the then-four-month-old and bounced her on her hip while the other hand gently blow-dried Frankie’s hair. “Okay, gorgeous,” she said, switching off the dryer.

“You talking to me or my kid?”

“You decide.” She kissed María on the top of her head, which was covered in the same dark brown curls as her father’s. “Let’s go cut daddy’s hair, hmm?”

Frankie tangled himself in each thick thread of yearning that stretched between them as she ventured farther away, downstairs into the kitchen where she would cut his hair over the garbage can. She had done it a hundred times, he felt, but the longing remained. The ache to touch her on the cheek, the waist, draw her in closer and kiss the soul right out of her. He wanted to take it and swallow it and wrap himself in it, keeping her forever with him the way she said they did with each life they took. He wanted that. He wanted to hold her life in his palms and nurture it, let it unfold with his, the lines on their palms intertwining like twin comets’ paths through the sky.

Every day with her felt like that: chasing the sun, only to find out he was chasing a picture. He could never grasp it, never cradle it or sleep next to it or bury himself so deep in it he lost sense of himself altogether. He wanted so much of her that her essence choked him. It filled his lungs like gravel because he could never have her. So he yearned, and let himself die a little more each time she went home to someone else.

“Frankie?” she asked him that night, both of them watching María sleep in his arms as they lounged on the couch, the television muted.

He was drifting off, fighting sleep so he wouldn’t drop his baby girl. The sound of the voice next to him stirred him just enough, and he gained the sense she was about to impart a piece of wisdom he would carry forever.

“I think you’re going to live a long, happy life.” Her head was on the arm of the sofa, and her eyes were drooping, but not quite closed, looking at him through her lashes. They were like shadowy spiderwebs on her cheeks. “I think, of all the people I’ve met in my life, you’re the one who deserves it most. I want you to have it, so I’m telling you right now that you will.”

It occurred to him much later that she thought he was asleep.

The bar itself is a piece of shit in the middle of a highway, barely big enough to even qualify as a truck stop, and it’s called The High Dive. Sounds about right. Frankie gets there last (a routine phone call with his parole officer lasted longer than he would’ve hoped, but at least he’s through with his community service), and Fox is already in the middle of an argument with her boyfriend.

“Invited himself,” says Will, interrupting Frankie’s train of thought before he can even make a stop at a coherent one. The Miller brother has a beer tucked into the crook of his elbow as his arms sit folded over his chest. “Doesn’t seem to trust you very much, Morales.”

“Hmm. Can’t imagine why.” Frankie is hardly listening. His eyes are laser-focused on the movements of Matt Erickson’s flailing arms as he yells at his girlfriend. Frankie’s hackles are up and his vision is beginning to bleed.

“He wouldn’t, Fish,” says Will, nudging him with an elbow. “He wouldn’t take a swing, not here.”

“I never—”

“Yeah, you’re thinkin’ it, man. We’re all fuckin’ thinking it.” Will gestures to their favourite booth in the corner of the bar where Benny, Santiago, and a couple locals they’ve befriended over the years are sitting. Benny and Pope sneak frequent looks across the bar to where the couple is still locked in a heated argument, standing too close in the shadowy hall that leads to the bathroom.

It’s not like Frankie has any evidence that Erickson has laid a hand on her. He knows the guy is volatile, angry at one wrong twitch of a finger. Frankie wouldn’t give a fuck if he decided to take a swing at him or his friends; it would give them all an excuse to deal a few blows in return, which he knows they’ve all been itching to do. No—he’s too close to her, his hands clenching into fists and jerking around as she flinches away from him until she’s backed into the wall, keeping her guard up and placing a hand on his chest to keep him at arm’s length. She’s speaking clearly and firmly, patient even as her boyfriend loses his shit. Frankie cannot hear a word, but he knows she’s in the right.

“Why the fuck is he here?” Frankie just manages to bite his words off.

“My guess?” Will shakes his head. “To keep an eye on you.”

“I’ll give him a fucking eyeful,” says Frankie, surging forward.

“Hey.” Will claps a hand down on his shoulder to stop him. “Come on. Leave them be. He’ll get pissed and leave.”

“I don’t like this, man.” She’s handling it, still, trying to bring Matt’s temper down to a simmer. Frankie can’t look away. His eyes are her shield; if he blinks or moves, it will drop, and Matt will act. He will hurt her. Frankie can’t let it happen.

The knot in his chest begins to loosen when she seems to strike a common ground with Matt. He breathes hard and backs away, nodding and muttering something. She smiles feebly, her shoulders rounded and her eyes dim with exhaustion, and he kisses her on the forehead.

Frankie lets Will guide him to the booth and slides in next to Pope. “Pendejo,” says Santiago. Frankie knows he isn’t speaking to him.

“Don’t get me fuckin’ started.” Pope slips a beer under Frankie’s nose. “Thanks, man.”

“Anyone ever tell her she’s way too hot for that asshole?” says John, a local Army-turned-trucker around the same age as Frankie, who doesn’t trust himself to open his mouth at that comment.

Erickson approaches them without her in tow. That makes Frankie’s internal alarm bells sound. “Hey,” he says, lifting his beer in greeting. “How's everyone holding up?”

There is an awkward sound-off of halfhearted replies from everyone at the table except for Frankie, who won't even indulge. He has tunnel-vision, and he needs to make sure she's all right.

His eyes meet Will’s, and the Miller discretely nods. “Hey, Erickson,” he says loudly. “Mind checking out my hood? My engine light came on halfway through the drive here and I don't want it to explode on the way home.”

Erickson agrees with mild enthusiasm (the prospect of getting paid for a tune-up provides most of his polite response) and follows Will outside. Frankie flees toward the bathroom and knocks on the door.

“Foxy.”

Come in is her soft reply.

The sound of the door unlocking is all Frankie needs to push his way inside and close them both inside. In here, the world pushes in on the two of them, and it feels like sitting in the bathroom together at his home, listening to her quiet humming as she washes his hair. “If he sees you in here, he's going to kill you,” she says. Her voice is utterly defeated. “I don't want to hear a lecture on how I need to leave him, Frank. I can't—” Her breath catches in her throat. “I can’t do this tonight.”

She finally faces him. He can tell that she's been crying, but he still counts to ten when he sees her puffy eyes and rounded shoulders. He's always been terrible at containing his impatience or rage compared to her, but she looks so beat-down and tired that all he can think to do is pull her into his arms.

“He can try,” says Frankie, smoothing down her hair and kissing the top of her head. Her hands find his back, warm and soft, her cheek resting on his chest. She sniffles quietly. Frankie’s entire body feels tight, sandpaper on a wall, catching on every groove of her body against him.

“I really want to kill him first,” he confesses.

She shakes her head. “Not going to jail, Francisco. Can’t survive on this Earth without you.”

His ears are ringing. He barely hears the doorknob jiggle, the knock at the door, the scuffle outside.

“She's in the fuckin’ bathroom, dude,” says Benny on the other side of the door. “Give her some privacy.”

“Oh, you mean her and Morales? You want me to give them privacy? Want me to let them fuck each other in there while I stay right here?”

“Maybe you should leave. You've had a bit too much to drink.” This comes from Pope. Reasonable, but tense.

“Open the fucking door, babe,” shouts Erickson. Frankie puts her behind him instinctively.

“Don't say a word,” she warns him. He bites down on his tongue. Her hand slips around to his arm and squeezes. She raises her voice so Matt can hear her. “I’m coming out, Matthew. We’re going home. Okay?”

Don’t, Frankie wants to say. Don't go home with him. Fuck, baby, come back and never let him touch you again. But she ordered him to stay quiet, and he can't refuse her. He can't do anything.

It always ends like this. He lets her go, and he freezes. He can never be brave where it counts.

She unlocks the door to face down her boyfriend, who's stone-faced and glaring at Frankie. He grabs her arm, tight enough to make her wince, and she shoves him hard in the chest. “Don't fucking touch me,” she says. “We. Are. Leaving.”

And they do. Frankie just lets her go, watching her until she's out of his sight and a bit further than that. He lets her go again.

The next night, Friday, is Benny’s fight. She’s limping when she walks into the locker room.

Frankie leaps to his feet despite the protest from his back. He’s in front of her, probably crowding her, but his head is in overdrive. “What happened? Shit, you're limping. Why the fuck are you limping? Did he fucking hurt you? I swear to God, juro por Dios, if he hurt you—”

“Francisco.” She's firm, jagged-edged, and it startles him into silence. She looks like she hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep in days, and her beautiful optimistic smile is nowhere to be seen. “He was angry with me for last night,” she tells him. Matter-of-fact and emotionless. “He grabbed my ankle and twisted it. I grabbed a bag and left while he was passed out. I slept in my car. It's the first time he's ever laid hands on me.”

Frankie staggers backward. “I—” He rubs his jaw and shakes his head. He’s furious. He's terrified. He's sad and disgusted. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

She hugs herself. “I’m a total idiot. I know I am. I know he's a piece of shit, Francisco. I know it, and then sometimes he would be so kind, so gentle, and I wouldn't know which way was up. I never thought he would—” She breaks off like the words stabbed her, snapping her mouth shut and bringing her hand to it, trembling with tears she refuses to let fall. “I feel so fucking stupid.”

She's the finest sniper on the team. She's a storm on the field and she's the one who speaks the soothing words to them all when they're hurt or tense or just want to fall asleep. She's the reason and the eyes. She's responsible for their lives every time they step foot on the ground, and she never lets a single one go.

He says her name. It’s quiet and weak and almost lost in the ambient noise of distant cheering and air conditioning. It's a name that invokes rain and thunder and sunshine—the kind of sunshine that parts those angry rolling clouds. It's a rare name because it feels sacred. It's the name he reserves when he's about to do something stupid.

“Don't say my name like that, Francisco.”

He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and grinned, cocksure and tipsy. He squares up with Pope at the table and the two lock hands in preparation for the arm wrestle. “You ready to eat shit, Morales?”

“Nah, pendejo. You're gonna buy a round after this.”

Whoops and jeers lifted from the crowd, but Frankie just turned to her and winked. She stood out with her tight-ass jeans and her wicked glare. Damn, Frankie wanted to impress her. It's probably the only reason he beat Pope.

“So,” he said after he took down both Will and Benny, too. “Believe me now?”

She rolled her eyes and placed her elbow on the table. “Fine, Cat. When I win, I’m getting a shopping spree.”

“Hope you like wearing the same thing every day,” he teased, locking his fingers around her hand. Around them, they cheered for the Fox.

Frankie lost. She got her shopping spree, and she showed off all the pretty dresses she bought with his money while he and María watched the makeshift fashion show. He didn't mind one bit.

Now, Frankie takes a step forward and places his hands on her arms, her skin soft and warm beneath his rough hands.

“I’m a fucking coward,” he tells her. “Every single time I've wanted to tell you, I’ve let you go.”

She frowns at her shoes and whispers his name. “I can't,” she says. “Please don't say it.”

What?

“I…” He grasps at the air for something to say and falters. “I don't understand. Help me understand.”

Another sob leaves her mouth when she meets his eye. “I’ve waited years for you, Francisco,” she says, the words toppling onto him. Demolitions. Smoke. “If you say it now, I won't be able to stop myself from saying it back.”

He's in fragments on the floor. The world shifts from one axis to the other, back and forth, teetering over the blackness of space. “Honey, please just let me—”

“Frankie. I mean it.” She takes a step back, gently brushing him off her. There's nothing malicious in the action, but it tugs Frankie’s heart along with it. She's holding it in her hands, the way he's always wanted to do with hers. “Right now, I feel like I’m about to fall apart, and I don't think I can have that conversation with you.” She swipes her thumb under her eyes.

“No.” It comes out strangled and pathetic, like regurgitating stones. “No. Don’t go. Fucking stay. I—shit, I need you to stay.”

He's being a selfish asshole. His foot is in his mouth. She's hurt and needs space and now he can't let her go. What is wrong with him?

He knows it was the wrong thing to say. Hurt floods her eyes. “I’ve been patient,” she says evenly. “But I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. You married Lisa, you had María, and I tried to move on. Maybe it isn't about what you need right now, Frank.”

He doesn't know why he gets angry, but he suspects he'll realise later that he's mad at himself. Which means he doesn't stop himself from digging deeper. “Are you serious? You've been fucking around with a hundred other guys because you wanted me? Tell me how that makes sense, honey, because it doesn't make a goddamn inch of sense to me.”

He regrets every word right away. Her face falls and her fingers touch her own throat like he threw a sucker-punch to it. Her entire body shrinks in on itself, and she looks like she does when Matt makes her feel small, worthless. But it wasn't Matt. Frankie did that. Frankie, who's supposed to be her friend. He wants to throw up. How could he ever think he could be good to her?

She swallows and gathers all her breath to make herself a bit taller. Frankie begins to shake his head, reaching for her. His stomach plummets when she flinches away. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I never should have said that. I didn't mean—”

“You wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it, Frankie,” she says. Her voice is still collected, if a bit cooler, and it only makes him sink further into despair. “Don't take it back. I know you never liked any of them. That doesn't mean you get to talk to me like I’m just a whore when you were about to tell me you loved me.”

She's right. She's so right and he's so stupid. “Please.” He doesn't move for her, but he can't let her leave. He can't let them go their separate ways like this. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” she says. “But that really hurt, Frankie. I’m exhausted, and my ankle is killing me, and Benny’s about to fight. I’m going to go find the others now. Okay?”

No . No, it's not okay. None of this is okay. “Don't…” He pulls at his collar. He's burning alive. “Don't leave it like this.”

There's a hollowness in her eyes. “You made that choice for me,” she says. “Just… do me a favour. Stay at Pope’s tonight.”

It's an unspoken code. Frankie can get down on life, on himself. He's been busted for taking things that make him feel lighter, but it only ever lasts as long as the drugs. He's clean, and he wants to stay clean. But he feels that familiar urge, that self-loathing that makes him itch for the powder. He won't do it. It'll make things worse. It'll make her look at him differently, and he's fucked everything up already.

“I will,” he promises.

She limps away to join the madness of the ring. Frankie’s heart goes with her.

“So, you shouted at her.”

“Yeah.”

“After she just ran away from her ex, who had put his hands on her and undid weeks of physiotherapy.”

“Yes, Pope. I did.”

“She practically confessed she's been in love with you since before Lisa, and then you implied she was a whore.”

“I didn't—”

“She's sleeping in her goddamn car, Frank.”

Frankie slams his hands down on the table, enjoying the brief sting of pain. “Jesus Christ. I know it was wrong. I know. Okay?”

Santiago shakes his head. “I don't think you do get it, asshole. I think you wanted to tell her you loved her because she was finally available. It was fucking selfish, Frank, and you know it.”

Frankie runs his hands through his hair. It's been a while since she cut it.

“Fuck.”

Pope is right.

Frankie became a soldier at that moment. A soldier with one goal: tell her the truth before she slipped away. And he neglected everything else. Her feelings, her fear, her uncertainty. And when he couldn't accomplish his mission, he panicked. He kept her close, pressured her, and never gave her room to breathe.

He threw away his friendship with her over a few petty words.

Frankie doesn't hear from her for a week. He asks around, consults her family and friends, but not even Benny, Will, or Pope have seen her. She's still on leave since her physiotherapist sent in a report detailing Erickson’s assault, but she typically makes a habit of checking in with her friends. It's why Frankie stays at Santiago’s, drinking enough to put him to sleep at night but never using. He dreams of his Fox at night. They’re different dreams than he usually finds himself living in. She isn't panting and moaning and screaming his name while he pounds into her. He dreams of her smiling and laughing and lying with him in his bed. She's safe in his dreams. She's with him, and he's good to her.

Frankie sleeps past noon the day she shows up on Santiago’s doorstep.

Santiago is dressed and he's already eaten, but neither he nor Frankie mind him leaving out some cold eggs and bacon for Frankie to munch on when he decides to get his lazy ass out of bed. He wanders downstairs eventually, scratching the back of his neck and grumbling “Good morning” even though it isn't. She's not here. She seems to be nowhere.

The knock at the door is clear but rushed. Santiago opens it to find her standing on his porch, dressed in a pair of ratty (men’s?) jeans, rolled up several times at the ankles, and a sweatshirt for a college she didn't attend. Her hair is tucked into the hood and she smiles grimly. “Hi.”

“Holy shit.” Santiago takes in the dark half-moons beneath her eyes and the tremor in her hands. But he notices the bruises most. Her lip is split, while her left cheekbone is shiny and purple. There's a cut on the slope of her nose and her forehead. He steps out onto the porch so Frankie can't overhear them or see her beat-up face. “Holy shit, Fox.”

“I know.” She brings him into a hug. “I’m so sorry, Santi. I’m in trouble. Couldn't contact you.”

He catches her sharp inhale when his hand brushes her side. He eyes her sternly. “What the fuck is going on?”

“It's Matt.” She rolls her eyes, but he sees tears well in the whites. “He found me the other night. Didn't like that I left. At least he didn't get my ankle again. Handcuffed him to the stove before he could try.”

Santiago pinches the bridge of his nose. Her relentless optimism is often refreshing, but right now, he's really fucking pissed off. “Is he put away?”

“Affirmative. Had to answer a lot of questions, but I sort of found myself asking a lot more.” She sighs. “I think he's into something. I’m being followed.”

Santiago frowns. “Drug pusher?”

“Not sure. All I know is I look like I had a fight with a blender, and I’ve seen a couple vehicles tailing me in the last couple days. Had to ditch my car.” She squeezes his arm. “I’m sorry I didn't reach out, Santiago. You didn't deserve to worry like that. None of you.”

Not even Frankie. It's unspoken, but he heard it in the way her words falter in the end. “You want to talk to him?” offers Santiago.

“Has he been…” She clears her throat. “Is he clean?”

“As a whistle. If you don't count whiskey.”

She smiles, and it's real. “Good. That's good.”

“He's not going to be happy to see you like this.”

“He's seen me take bullets,” she counters. “This is a walk in the park.”

That's not true—Frankie pouts when she gets a papercut—but Santiago nods. “You want something to eat?”

She shakes her head. “I’ve probably stayed too long already. I don't want you wrapped up in this. Whatever this is.”

He ushers her inside and makes sure there aren't any suspicious vehicles nearby before he locks the door. She isn't limping anymore, but the state of her face makes up for it by leaps and bounds.

Santiago squeezes her hand before he leaves to give them privacy. “He's been a total asshole without you around.”

She gives him a wry look. “I’m not going to forgive him, but I’m not going to chew him out, either. He already knows he's an idiot.”

She walks alone into the kitchen. He's sitting at the table and poking some cold eggs with a fork. “Frankie?”

The sound of her voice is something from his dreams. His head jerks up, expecting to find a shadow or a whisper only to wake up alone. But she's there. She's in the kitchen with him, standing just past the doorway. He feels the beat of his heart thrum back to life where it lay in her hands, at the same time his stomach plummets and his meagre breakfast threatens to lurch back up his throat. Frankie bolts to his feet.

She's been beaten.

“Who—”

“I’m okay.”

They speak at the same time, and a rapid silence overtakes the room. Frankie takes a step toward her. She doesn't move away. His fingers flex. He wants to touch her. He wants to tend to her wounds the way he's done so many times in the field.

No. He wants to touch her like a friend, a partner, a lover. He wants to be gentle and crack jokes and make her laugh. He wants to see her eyes scrunch up with joy.

He wants to kill who did this to her, but the urge to care for her overwhelms his tenuous anger.

“It’ll heal,” she says plainly.

He does not say a word.

“You've been my best friend for ten years, Frankie. That doesn't go away with a mistake. But I need your help, and it helps if this isn't painfully awkward.”

He understands the implication. I’m not here to make up.

“What's going on?” he asks. “I—we haven't heard from you.”

“I’m in trouble,” she tells him. It's straightforward as a soldier, but there's something else.

He's fine-tuned to her voice, the way she sounds when she’s angry all the way to jumping for joy. This sounds like fear, and it radiates all the way from his ears to his feet. “What’s happening?” he asks. “I want to help you, Foxy, I swear it. I’ll do anything.”

She smiles. It's coloured with exhaustion, agony, and a little gratefulness. “Thank you.”

The safe house is a little ways outside St. Augustine: an hour or so in Frankie’s truck if he takes the usual route to the coast. But he doesn't. He swerves between freeways, doubles back three times, and stops at four different service centres using three different credit cards and one with cash. It makes for one hell of a confusing trail, and it takes them four hours (and change) to get within a mile of the destination, but it seems to be working so far.

She’s silent for most of the trip, her knees drawn up to her chest and her body tilted toward the passenger’s side window. She watches the trees and roads speed by with her cheek in her palm. It's nighttime now. The lights of other cars illuminate the shiny bruises on her face, making Frankie tighten his grip on the steering wheel.

It's his fault. It’s all his fault that Erickson went back for her.

“How long have you had this place?” she asks. Her voice is raspy from disuse.

Frankie checks his rearview mirror to make sure no one follows him when he turns onto a side street that leads into town. “Me and the guys paid for it. Thought it would be good to have somewhere to go in the state. Just in case.”

She nods thoughtfully. “I like it here. It’s refreshing.”

He has so many things he wants to say. He needs to apologise, to beg for her forgiveness. He's going to get on his knees and plead with her. He won't lose his best friend because he got angry and stupid. But right now, he needs to protect her. He can do at least that.

“It's coastal,” says Frankie. “Should give you a good view.”

“Always thinking of the little guy, Cat,” she says playfully. He doesn't miss the hurt that still lingers in her tone. Neither of them can forget the things they said that day.

She confessed to wanting him before he married Lisa, and he threw it in her face. She will never want him again, but he will be forever damned if he doesn't make things right and earn the privilege of being her friend again.

“You aren't the little guy,” he says, making another turn. Ahead, he sees a familiar white wraparound porch. “War hero, remember?”

She snorts. “War hero who can't put up a fight against her psychotic ex-boyfriend.”

His frown deepens until he's technically pouting. “Fox…”

“Just fucking around, Frank.” She extends her leg and gently prods his thigh with her foot. His heart leaps to his throat. “Been through worse.”

His chest is fluttering from the simple touch alone. He doesn't know what he'd do if she truly touched him. Skin against skin.

“Focus, Catfish. Don’t want you fallin’ down on the job.”

“Eat my cue ball, Ironhead.”

“If you two don't shut up, I will shove this cue down your pants.”

A stranger sidled up behind her where she bent over the billiards table and swigged his beer. “Very nice,” he said, eyes on her ass in those tight jeans as she sunk the 12 ball.

Frankie frowned deeply at him. He had left his friends at the bar to approach her, and all of them were watching as he tried to engage her in conversation. Clearly, a bet had been made. “You from around here?”

“Are you trying to get under my skirt, out-of-towner?” She clicked her tongue. “For shame. Never wear a dress shirt to a bar.”

“C’mon,” he persisted. “We’ll buy your drinks.”

“I’m set,” she said politely. “But I don't want to be passed around.”

The man’s eyes travelled down toward her breasts. “You sure?”

Pope was the first to speak up, shouldering his way into the conversation. “Hey. My eyes are up here, buddy,” he says, more easy-going than Frankie would be if he trusted himself to speak.

Will sunk his next ball and clapped the man on the shoulder. “Try your luck somewhere else. She's taken.”

“What, by you?” scoffed the stranger.

“Nah, dickhead. By him.” Will jerked his head in Frankie’s direction.

Frankie, whose knuckles were white around his cue, didn’t register what's happening until she took a step away from the stranger and wrapped her hand around his bicep. The touch blossomed from the point of contact until it festered like a sore deep within his chest. She was touching him.

“Wanna take a picture, or you wanna fuck off?” said Frankie coolly.

The stranger lifted his hands in the air. “Can see when I’m not winning. Sorry.”

She rolled her eyes when he was gone and stepped away. “I’m sorry, Frank,” she said softly. “I won't tell Lisa or anything. Will shouldn't have…”

Frankie shook his head and kissed her temple in case the men were still watching. “Don't. He was bothering you.”

He didn't wear his wedding ring, and neither did Lisa, unless her parents were around. He should have loved her the way he did the girl in front of him. They both love María, their beautiful little girl, their light. But they never ached for each other the way Frankie does Fox.

Frankie pulls into the driveway. He recalls that night, the way her hand felt so assured around him. He recalls aching for it to be real, for him to stand up for her because he is with her, because he gets to sleep with her every night and love her freely. He's missed every single chance.

Nestled in a small neighbourhood near the highway and surrounded by fields of farmland, the house is quaint and painted a muted grey. The porch slinks around the house, a bench swinging in the gentle breeze. “Frank, the door,” she says. “Only half of it is painted.”

Frankie eyes the front door, dark green from the doorknob to the ground. “Got high with Pope,” he grumbles.

She hums her understanding and he escorts her inside. It's as plain inside as outside, a one-floor home with a small kitchen on the right and a living room to the left. In the hallway ahead lies doors to the bathroom and the bedroom. The singular bedroom.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he blurts out when her eyes land on the two doors down the hall. “Have before.”

She frowns up at him. “I brought this down on you, Cat. You take the bed.”

“Don't start. That couch is uncomfortable as shit.”

“Okay, you've convinced me.”

“I’ll get the bags.” He gently lifts her chin to examine her face, all clinical. “Bathroom’s on the left. I’ll meet you in there.”

She lifts a brow. “I can clean myself up.”

He grunts. “I’ve always been the better medic.”

He drops the bags on the floor and digs out the medical supplies from underneath the kitchen sink. She has shed her hoodie and remains in a tight tank top, examining bruises on her throat in the shape of fingers. His eye twitches.

“I know you're pissed,” she says without looking at him. “If it helps, I am, too. Never thought I’d have to fight him off like that. Just… wasn't in my best form.”

Frankie gently touches her side as he moves around her. “Up,” he says gruffly. She knows the drill; a hundred times over they’ve had to patch one another up in the field. This should feel no different. She settles herself on the countertop while he fishes around for a bandage. “You hurt anywhere else?”

It's the question he's been avoiding, but it's necessary. She shrugs. “Mostly just got me in the face.”

“That the truth?”

She breathes slower when he touches her face to clean off the cut on her forehead, and she holds her breath altogether when he gets to her lips. “Frank,” she says. It's a whisper, a leaf tumbling and drifting on a breeze, quiet as night.

He meets her eye after he's secured the bandage to her forehead. “Tell me.”

She lifts her hips and shimmies her too-big jeans down her legs. He's seen her in her underwear before, but it doesn't fail to make him feel like he's drowning. “He cut me here,” she says, showing him a knife slash on her inner thigh near her pelvis, and another just beneath the waistband of her panties. “And here.”

He swallows, seeing red. His hand finds her skin, gravitating to it like it’s an opposite charge, and he’s touching her thigh before he knows it. “Fuck,” he rasps. “Fuckin’ kill him.” The man cut up her perfect, smooth skin. He was supposed to cherish and protect her and make her feel beautiful. He fucking hurt her, and Frankie was not there to stop him. To rip him apart. He wants to feel his knuckles break upon impact.

She releases a shaky breath. He feels it ruffle his hair, so close together in the dim light. “He didn't—”

Frankie just shakes his head. She goes quiet. He doesn't trust himself to talk; it will probably dig the hole deeper. She watches him clean the cuts, fresh enough that this must've happened last night. Saturday night. It's the day she usually babysits.

She hisses suddenly. “Frankie, gentle, please.” She pries his hand from her thigh.

A wave of nauseating guilt wreaks havoc on his body. “Fuck. I’m sorry,” he croaks.

She plays an intricate game with her fingers as he continues to clean her wounds. He applies a worn-out tube of polysporin to the cut on her thigh. “Do you think María hates me now?” she asks, her voice soft and vulnerable as ever when it comes to his daughter. “Y’know, since I missed out on babysitting last week?”

He hums. “She couldn't hate you if you took all her toys away.”

“Don’t say a thing like that, Francisco. She’ll hear you.” Her head falls back and knocks gently against the wall. Her eyes slip shut. “You never told me what happened in Peru.”

“You… really don’t wanna know what happened in Peru, Fox.” Frankie grits his teeth, his hand coming to rest on her hip over that thin scrap of a tank top. “Promise.”

“You’re not giving me enough credit,” she says firmly, pinning him with a stare. “I’ve been your partner for ten years, Francisco. Lisa and I were terrified. She thought she was going to lose her baby’s dad, and I thought I was going to lose my best friend. You were gone for way longer than you said you’d be, and when you came back, none of you would talk about what happened. Redfly was gone, and all of you just—just moved on. You closed up.”

The least Frankie can do is look up and meet her eye. But he can’t. He just keeps his hand on her hip, gently stroking the bone with his thumb.

“You want to know something silly? Even when you and Lisa got married, I thought I still had a chance with you.” At that, his head jerks up at last, and he finds her eyes brimming with tears. “Stupid, right? I thought…” She scoffs, shaking her head. “I could deal with you not loving me, but you not trusting me hurt so much more.”

He squeezes her hip. “Honey…” His teeth clack together with how hard he bites down on his own jaw. “I haven’t trusted any of those guys with a rat shit’s worth of how much I trust you. You’ve taken a bullet for me, for fuck’s sake. It’s just… Losing Tom, killing those people, all for nothing. Jesus, I hate myself for how well I sleep considering everything I’ve done.”

“It wasn’t for nothing,” she says indignantly. “It can’t have been for nothing.”

That just makes him feel more cynical. “Stole about two hundred and fifty million. Came back with what amounted to a million each, and didn’t keep a cent.”

Her lips part in understandable shock, but all she says is, “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Nothing good came from it,” says Frankie. “Not a goddamn minute of it. Tom’s dead.”

“Frank.” She steadies her hands on his shoulders as she slips off the vanity and looks up at him. It vaguely occurs to him that she’s still in her panties. “Do you trust me?”

“With my fucking life,” he replies.

“Have I ever steered you wrong?”

“There was that one time when you took a left inside of a right off Madison—”

She repeats her question, and he answers truthfully this time. “No, Fox. You haven’t.”

Even on a roof, scoping the enemy, or in his daughter’s bedroom, singing a gentle lullaby, or in the barracks, trading jokes (Frankie) and wisdom (Fox). Every word that has ever escaped her perfect lips has coiled itself around his heart.

“Then trust me to tell you the truth.” She tugs on the hems of his sleeves with her fingers. “You have the biggest heart I’ve ever seen. Sometimes, I want to rip it out and examine it under a microscope just to watch it work the way it does. And sometimes, I want to beat you over the head with it. I know it’s hard. I’ve had my fair share of shit I had to trudge through in order to just fucking function every day. But you gotta know how good you are, Frank. You have to. Because if you don’t, there isn’t any hope for the rest of us.” She adjusts the cap on his head. “Killing and fighting isn’t who we are. It’s what we do. I’ll make something to eat.”

With that, she’s gone, slipping past him, leaving him cold and stunned and unable to speak. She’s all the wisdom of a prophet, sunshine in a human body, the first crack of a firework and the muffled silence of dipping your head underwater. She’s the serenity of dusk. He doesn’t know how to gather all the love that spills through his fingers.

#kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal fic #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction

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pimosworld · 6 months

Text

Down the rabbit hole

Kinktober prompt-Group sex/Orgy/Costumes

Pairing-Triple Frontier boys x f!reader

CW18+,MDNI,NSFW,EstablishedPolyamorous Relationship,Fluff,Teasing,Smut,Coercion,BribeCostumes, Hints at Roleplay, Fingering,Oral f receiving,Oral m receiving, mentions of MM dynamics, unprotected p i v, anal, cream pie,anal cream pie(don’t look at me)

WK-4.8k

A/N- In the story of us universe but can be read as a stand-alone. I definitely could’ve added more smut but I’m not done with this group just yet.

Not beta read

[Main Masterlist] [Series Masterlist]

“We have to do a group costume please….please.”

“Cariño, whining isn’t going to change my mind.”

You huff out in frustration as Frankie tries to conceal his laughter. You and Santi had been going at it for a while as you tried and failed to convince him of what you’d already got the other three to agree to after some unfair persuasion tactics.

“Sweetheart he’s just mad you want him to be the cat.” Will chimes in from the loveseat as you all sit in the living room.He says it with such disdain that you know he’s not helping your case in any way. Alice in Wonderland, is long paused on the tv because Santi decided half way through he was not going to be the Cheshire Cat.

“How did you all even agree to this?” Santiago still looked gorgeous despite the permanent scowl that worked its way onto his face throughout the conversation.

Benny sits up from the floor stretching his long arms over his head. “Well besides for the fact that the rabbit is the coolest character, I got one the best massages of my entire life after my fight last week.”

“Weak.” Santi scoffs as he places your feet in his lap. His actions are the complete opposite of his tone.

“You’re just jealous.” You’re flattered at Ben's enthusiasm but you know it’ll take more than a massage to convince Santiago to wear a costume. You gave him frequent massages that always led to something else and of course he knows that…hence the smirk etched on his face as he silently rubs your feet.

“What about you iron head? How the hell did she convince you to be a caterpillar?” Everyone chuckles at the hilarity of it all because how? This stoic and mostly reserved ex military man was going to dress up as a caterpillar for you.

“He’s actually the best character, way better than a rabbit.” He ducks as the pillow Ben throws from the floor narrowly misses his head. “I may have got a lap dance.” The rest audibly groan. “I also get to smoke.”

“Okay rub it in some more.”

“I’m not the one who caved for a massage.”

The brothers continue to bicker as you shift in Frankie’s arms to look at Santi. He’s got the look on his face, the annoying toothy smile… the reason you wanted him to be the cat in the first place. That look that says it's gonna take more than that. It’s your own fault really…you were showing off some clothes you bought the other day when he told you to strip. You thought he was joking at first but the way he looked at you, you couldn’t help but do whatever he asked.

Your impromptu strip tease turned into another impromptu lap dance. Which of course always turns into something more because this is Santiago Garcia.

“Sooo hermano that just leaves you. I’m sure all she had to do was look at you and you caved.” The men laugh but you know as soon as Frankie shifts behind you he’s thinking about the other night.

Frankie leans in pushing you closer to Santi “For your information I got to put it in her…” You elbow his stomach before he can finish his sentence. It’s too late as you watch the grin on Santi’s face grow even wider somehow.

“I heard that Fish.” Ben’s sitting up again looking at you with a mixture of shock and awe.

“Sweetheart…I mean this in the nicest way possible but how?” Santi and Frankie are cackling at Will's response as you lean back into Frankie covering your face with your hands. Your body is on fire from the attention placed on you at this moment.

“With much preparation.” He whispers into your ear as he squeezes your side. You can’t help but think about how he took his time and worked you open. Whispering praise into your ear as he did, of course in your lust filled haze you hadn’t realized how he knew exactly what to say and do. Like he had been given a playbook on all the things that made you tick. How you would keen under the praise and melt into his touch.

He would only know this because Santiago had already done it and told him step by step instructions as if it were a mission and for Frankie it was a successful one. He would don any ridiculous costume for the rest of his life if it meant he could hear you make those sounds again.

“I’d like to add that the Mad Hatter is the number one character…and I get to wear my standard oil hat underneath.”

“Oh my god babe you gave him everything.” Ben’s dramatics have everyone buckled over in laughter. You try to regain your composure as you wipe the tears from your eyes.

Santi leans toward the coffee table to grab the remote, you can just see the wheels turning in his head as he thinks it over.

“As wonderful as all that sounds…I’m still not convinced.” He presses play on the movie as you sigh and drop your head back onto Frankie’s lap, he rubs your arm sympathetically as you stare up at the ceiling wondering how his mother ever put up with him. He lived and breathed to be difficult it seemed. You think he may even secretly get off on it.

“At least you tried hermosa.” Frankie leans down planting a kiss on your forehead, no doubt pleased with the outcome either way. Everyone got what they wanted except for you.

The boys are suddenly so enthralled with Alice in Wonderland while your mind wanders. With Santi things were never simple, you had to make it exciting or he would lose interest in whatever it was you were trying to accomplish. He may not even realize he does it but you think it’s his way of coping with not being in the military anymore. You know what makes him tick, anything that requires a challenge or a puzzle to solve.

Alice: Why, why you’re a cat!

Cheshire Cat: A Cheshire Cat. All mimsy were the borogoves…

Alice: Oh, wait! Don’t go, please!

Cheshire Cat: Very well. Third chorus…

Alice: Oh no no no… thank you, but- but I just wanted to ask you which way I ought to go.

Cheshire Cat: Well, that depends on where you want to get to.

Alice: Oh, it really doesn’t matter, as long as I g…

Cheshire Cat: Then it really doesn’t matter which way you go! Ah-hmm… and the momeraths outgrabe… Oh, by the way, if you’d really like to know, he went that way.

Alice: Who did?

Cheshire Cat: The white rabbit.

Alice: He did?

Cheshire Cat: He did what?

Alice: Went that way?

Cheshire Cat: Who did?

Alice: The white rabbit!

Cheshire Cat: What rabbit?

Alice: But didn’t you just say… I mean… oh dear!

Santiago was indeed just as frustrating as the aforementioned character that you were unsuccessfully trying to make him dress up as. You’ve spent the last several months in happily uncharted territory since you finally put a title to what it was you all were. The boys had no issues sharing you, it seemed they were much happier doing that than seeing you unhappy with any guy you’ve ever tried being around.

You were all so close, there was never any animosity or jealousy…maybe some light hearted teasing when someone was feeling left out but you always managed to keep them all satisfied.

It’s a mad idea…but we’re all mad here.

You sit up abruptly,slightly startling then with your enthusiasm as you grab the remote from Santi’s lap pausing the movie again.

“I know you’re going to wear that costume.” He turns to look at you as if you’ve grown two heads.

“Oh is that so?”

“Yes that’s so.”

“Are you going to forcibly put it on me?” You shake your head as you bite your bottom lip.

“Remember that thing you said you wanted to try?”

“Cariño you’re going to need to be more specific.” You know it’s silent as the intrigue lingers in the air.

“You said when I was ready to just tell you…so I guess I’m saying I’m ready.” In all honesty you’ve been waiting for the right time to bring it up but you’ve been so nervous. This seems as good a time as any.

“I see what you’re doing here Alice but I don’t remember, you’re going to have to tell me.”

“Well we have two weeks until the party so if you figure it out let me know.” You press play on the movie again as you get comfortable. Now you can enjoy the rest of the movie while Santiago tries to decipher your riddle.

****

It’s really not fair

How you have all these men somehow wrapped around your finger. You try to ignore the looks you get when you’re all out together and they can’t keep their hands off you. You can see the wheels turning when someone tries to make out which one of them is yours. You’ve always been affectionate with one another but since putting a name to this it’s like the band aid of shame has been ripped off.

You’re buzzing with excitement as you sit nestled between Ben and Santiago in the back of Frankie’s Jeep. Frankie’s new boss insisted you all come to his annual Halloween party after meeting the guys and hitting it off with them. Meeting new people and attending such a large party in a ridiculous costume no less took some convincing but the past few days they’ve all been very agreeable.

Santi promised he'd wear the costume even though he couldn’t figure out the bribe. He said he would ‘since it was important to you’. That should’ve been your first indication that something was off.

Will is the stoic picture of perfection in the front seat next to Frankie as he twirls the unlit cigar in his hands. He wasn’t a man of many words and he jumped at the chance to be the aloof caterpillar.

“You look beautiful Honey.” He’s not even looking at you as he stares out the window watching the street lights. You’ll never get used to the flurry of his attention. The affection seemed to ooze out of his pores like he’s been waiting years to tell you how he felt about you.

You glance over at Santiago as his furry pink and purple sweater brushes your bare legs. You can tell he’s uncomfortable but he’s doing his best as he fidgets with the collar. His salt and pepper curls peak out adorably along the headband of the matching cat ears.

“I can feel you staring cariño.” You quickly avert your gaze to Ben who is doing some staring of his own. Since you came out of the room adorned in your flouncy powder blue dress with knee high white stockings he can’t seem to keep his eyes off you.

“I like this.” Ben grazes his finger just under the hem of your dress, lifting it slightly to reveal your thigh. You shift in the seat rubbing your legs together desperate for some relief. The last two weeks have been uncharacteristically lacking in the sex department which is nearly impossible when you’re sleeping with four people. His barely there touch has goosebumps rising along your skin as he threatens to touch you almost where you want him too.

“Ben.” Frankie warns from the driver's seat as he approaches a red light,he notices your desperation in the rear view mirror as you hang your head back in frustration.

“Just worry about the road, old man.” Ben flicks the back of his comically large hat placed atop his standard oil cap.

“I’ll show you old man.” He grits out through his teeth as he returns his attention to the now green light.

The tension in the air is thick, it has been since you left the house. You all decided to get ready together and seeing as though you moved into the Miller-Morales household a few months ago that only left Santi to bring his costume and an overnight bag. You had the feeling that conversations were being had without you even though not many words were spoken. It was reminiscent of the night before a mission. All of you lost deep in thought while meticulously going over the plans ahead.

The four of them had a way of communicating despite all your years spent together that you just couldn’t seem to tap into. You couldn’t shake the nagging feeling like you had been left out of this one.

You pull down an unfamiliar street lined with massive homes, certainly less modest than the one you currently resided in. You assume most of the cars you pass are for the party and your excitement bubbles over into nervousness as you realize how many people may be in this house. The men all seem completely fine…almost unaware.

Frankie parks and exits along with Will and Benny without so much as a word being said. You turn to slide out Santiago’s side but he hasn’t moved. You think he’s having second thoughts about going in with this ridiculous costume.

“Listen if you don’t want to wear the ears -.” He cuts you off with his fingers placed gently on your lips. He smiles wide as if channeling his character for the night as he trails them down along your jaw. His other hand is wrapped around your shoulder teasing the top of your sweetheart neckline.

You’re already one edge with this being the most physical contact you’ve had in weeks. He leans in placing feather light kisses along your neck as his hand makes its way further down. He traces the path Ben once did as he lifts your skirt higher, his firm grip on the inside of your thigh when he bites down gently on your pulse point.

You don’t miss the way he chuckles in your ear as you shudder a breath when he drags his fingers along the seam of your panties nearly soaked from just the anticipation.

“I figured it out a couple days ago.” He rasps into your ear as he continues teasing. You’re trying to focus on his words but you think you could come like this from his barely there touch. “You told us we needed to learn how to share.”

In reality this is your fault, it was your suggestion after all when date nights kept overlapping. They never made you feel bad or acted jealous of one another, but you couldn’t help but think how unfair it was to split your time so often.

“We could all go on a group date?”

“We already have group dates, sweetheart.”

“Yes… but I mean it doesn’t have to end with the date.”

That was months ago and you thought he had all but forgotten or maybe he suggested it and no one else was down for it. Either way you dropped it until you realized you’ve been tricked. Santiago knew he had to raise the steaks in order to agree to this and you fell right for it.

“You have a few hours to decide what you want to do. Just say the word and we’ll leave.” You’re speechless as he withdraws his hand and it’s as if a bucket of cold water was dumped on your head. The humid air as he opens the door is a stark contrast to your chilled exterior.

“Alice?” He’s standing next to the door ajar with his hand out to help you down, you quickly smooth down your skirt as you grip his hand and hop down.

‘Every adventure requires a first step.’ Cheshire cat

****

It’s not that you aren’t having fun…it’s just you can’t stop thinking about what’s to come-no pun intended. After introductions everyone instinctually split up. Frankie roped into schmoozing with his boss while Ben found a partner to play beer pong, some jock dressed as Ken seemed fitting for the younger miller.

Santiago had made eyes at you when you saw him cornered by Barbie, there wasn’t a jealous bone in your body as you watched the poor girl talking his ear off as he stalked you like his prey. He teased you enough for you to let him flounder his way out of the conversation. If there was anything he hated more in this world it was pretending to be interested in a topic he could care less about.

You were plenty buzzed as you wandered aimlessly through this extravagant house, the furniture and fixtures much too gaudy for your preference .Gold plated frames lined the walls as you climbed the spiral staircase to explore the upstairs. You drag your fingers along the banister as you stare up at the three tier chandelier above the entryway.Apparently running a private helicopter business paid very well…unfortunately money didn’t buy good taste.

Your eyes are drawn to the red carpet lining the hallway as you peak into the first room on the left. A large Victorian bed with a gold frame is in the middle of the room. Next to it is a floor to ceiling mirror with a slightly beveled curve, the room in its reflection is a little distorted as you lean in further gripping the door handle to keep yourself steady.

Either you’ve had too much to drink or the floor is caving in. Strong hands grip your waist just as you’re prepared to meet face to face with the awful carpet. The wind is nearly knocked out if you as your back is met with a hard surface and you feel like your head is in a tailspin as you’re whipped around to meet your savior.

You’re met with the soft chocolate brown eyes of Frankie as he walks you backwards further into the room. The smirk on his face as he raises his eyebrows at you because surely he caught you snooping about his boss’s house while you were supposed to be enjoying the party.

“Find what you were looking for Alice?” His eyes roamed up and down your body as he stopped you just before the foot of the bed.

You realize you haven’t spoken in awhile as you try to answer and manage a squeak. You clear your throat slightly embarrassed after being caught and scramble for any words to come to mind. It doesn’t help when he’s looking at you that way or when he presses against you with his arm caging you in. You can feel his arousal through the thin fabric of your dress as he cups your ass pulling you impossibly closer to him.

He leans in and you close your eyes waiting for a kiss that never comes as he drops down to his knees. His fingers dip into the waistband of your panties as he slides them down your thighs. A soft whimper of his name leaves your lips and the thought of someone walking in is completely drowned out in your horny brain when all you can think about is his deft tongue working you open on no doubt his boss’s bed.

He taps your leg silently instructing you to step out of them as he balls it up in his fist and places it in his pocket. His breath is hot on your stomach through the fabric as you place your hands on his shoulders for purchase. You’re trying to be patient but you’re pulled taught after the teasing from Santiago in the car.

An inaudible whine leaves your mouth as he stands again and places a soft kiss to your forehead. “Shh it’s gonna be ok.” It most certainly won’t be.

“Frankie, where are you going?” The look on his face says isn’t it obvious as he grabs your hand and makes his way towards the door without an answer.”

“Frankie…where’s your hat?” He points to the standard oil cap as if that’s the one you were asking about as you huff out in frustration.

They are having way too much fun.

****

When you finally returned to the party Ken had decidedly had enough of Barbie flirting with Santiago and ditched Ben.

Ben managed to find someone he could talk to about his upcoming fights and Will was still nowhere to be found. Frankie and Santi looked like they were having a serious conversation in the kitchen and their eyes on you were suddenly too much. You needed some fresh air as you stepped out on the back deck. Of course there seemed to be no place that wasn’t occupied with guests, as you say your excuse me’a and make your way down the steps to find a modicum of privacy.

The smokey sweet aroma of tobacco and chocolate permeates your senses as you follow the trail coming from around the house. Will is leaned back, head against the wall with one leg propped up as he stares up at the rings disappearing into the clear night sky.

He holds out his hand and you hesitate, you’re not sure you could take anymore moments of being brought to the edge…but it’s Will. His large calloused hand takes yours as he pulls you into his chest making you face out. You sigh into the warmth and you’re enveloped by his cologne and the smell of the cigar.

“How are you feeling Honey?” Honestly…like you’re all trying to kill me.

“I’m fine.” He tsks under his breath as he kisses your neck, he breathes in deep as if you’re having the same affect on him as they are on you.

“I don’t like that answer…you tell me if you don’t want to do this.” Always the one to check in with you, he’s so sweet even when his own resolve is breaking.

You doubt he’s expecting your next move when you spin in his arms and grip him by the collar of his shirt as you crash your lips to his.The taste of tobacco and mint fresh on his tongue. He’s lost momentarily as he moans into the kiss, not caring about who could come around this corner at any moment. You pull away, reveling in the way he chases after you. His hooded lids staring you down as you brush your thumb along his swollen pink lips.

“I want to do this, I just don’t think I can take anymore teasing baby.” Will’s a private man so your pet names are reserved for your private moments, but you can see the moonlight luminate in his eyes as the blue practically disappears.

“Come on Honey, all you had to do was ask.” You scoff at that as he yanks your hand and practically runs you up the back steps back into the house.

When you enter the kitchen Benny,Frankie and Santi are all standing in the corner with knowing looks on their face and Will signals it’s time to go.

Santi and Frankie are out the door before you can blink as you pull back slightly in Will's grasp. “Shouldn’t Frankie say bye to his boss?”

“No time sweetheart, we’re late for a very important date.”

“Seriously Will, you’re going to steal my only line.” Ben skips along in front of you both as you exit the grandiose home.

“You had all night to use it, it’s not my fault you’re too slow.”

****

You thought you would’ve been more nervous or feel unprepared but it seems as you lay out completely exposed on Santiago’s bed as you try and keep track of the hands all over you, it sends a surge of confidence through you.

Santiago had taken control right away, the guys already had some sort of plan hatched out as you could’ve guessed by the way they were silently communicating every step.

The ride home was less than romantic as they went over your safe word and hard no’s. That shifted as soon as Frankie pinned you against the front door, too impatient to wait any longer before touching you as he unzipped your dress leaving it in a pool of fabric beneath you.

He knelt down on the floor, raising your leg over his shoulder as you gripped on tight to his soft curls. Your panties lost in one of his pockets earlier left easier access to you as he licked a stripe through your wet folds. Your head hits the door as you try to stay standing, already so worked up from before.

You’re a whimpering mess as Frankie works you open like a man starved. “You always taste so good hermosa.”

“Frank!” Santi reappears in the entryway naked and hard, looking as though he’s gonna spit fire.

“What?” You’d laugh if you weren’t so close to your first climax of the night as his nose nudged your clit.

“Bedroom?!” He sighs into you sending a chill up your spine as he fights against every urge to ignore Pope and continue his ministrations. He looks up at you almost apologetically as he places a kiss on each thigh.

****

“Fuck baby that feels so good.” Will’s grip is tight in your hair as he works his cock deeper down your throat. You can’t manage more than a whine as you try to focus on Santi thrusting behind you, slamming you further onto Will's cock with every switch of his hips.

“Do you have any idea how good you look right now?” Frankie pants beside you as Ben works his hand up and down Frankie’s length.

The praise and attention has you keening as you arch back into Santi’s chest. His hand on your hip is sure to leave a bruise as he pounds into you relentlessly. He’s close, he can tell you are too as you clench him tighter and moan out his name.

“Santi, I can’t.” You’ve lost count on how many times you’ve come. On Frankie’s tongue, on Will's fingers. When you were sitting on Bennys lap with Santi’s face buried in your cunt, you thought you were close to passing out.

“Tell me what you need.” You’ve never seen Santi as sweet or gentle as you have when he was methodically taking you apart.

You weren’t sure they heard when you whispered more. Santi was sure he heard you loud and clear as he asked if you were sure. Your pathetic mule as you chase his hips was all the answer he needed as he slowly pulled out of you. He gives a silent signal to Frankie as he replaces Will's spot on the bed.

Frankie’s wrecked, his own orgasm held off this entire time in anticipation for this. His sweat slicked curls cling to his face as he guides your hips above his throbbing erection. He grips the base of his cock as he slides the tip through your swollen folds. As you sink down onto him he moans in unison with you as a cold sensation meets your other hole. Santi smears the lube around your sensitive nub with his thumb and he nearly chokes at the way you push back onto it.

“Stop teasing Santiago.” Frankie rasps out between muttered curses as he bucks his hips into you.

Santi is a tease but at this moment he can’t hold on much longer. Your grip on Frankie tightens as Santi prods your entrance, the tip just barely in almost has you seeing stars. Will’s behind Santi working his length as he watches him pick up his pace. Ben’s lips are on yours as he reaches between you to rub slow circles on your clit. “Oh fuck…oh my god.”

“I need you to come cariño.” Santi grits out behind you as his hips start to stutter.

Frankie plants his feet in the mattress as he pounds up into you, a lewd moan leaves your lips as you cling to someone’s hand. Benny singing sweet praises in your ear of how good you’re doing as your body heaves and your heart threatens to pound out of your chest.

The smallest sound leaves your mouth as you cease up in pleasure, it rolls over you in waves as they both stutter their hips spilling into, the only sounds in the room are moans and pants as you collapse into a puddle in the middle of the bed.

You come too with concerned faces surrounding you as Will cleans you up gently with a damp towel.

“I told you, you went too hard.”

“Me…I’m not the one who made her come three times.”

Ben notices your blissed out face as you suppress a giggle. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. His dopey smile is on full display as the other men bicker behind him.

“You ready for round two Honey?”

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

@csarab615 @syrupsstuff @ghostslillady @uudelally @onefinnedwonder-fm @thedreadandthefugitivemind @romanarose @scarletthefierce @heather1482 @pikapuff-316

#frankie morales x reader #frankie x f!reader x santiago #triple frontier boys x reader #tf poly x reader #will miller x female reader #benny miller x frankie morales #benny miller x reader #triple frontier smut #triple frontier fanfic #kinktober 2023 #santiago garcia x francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier boys #pimowrites #santiago garcia smut #triple frontier x you

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pedrito-friskito · 10 months

Note

happy summer babes!!! 🍉🦀🏄‍♀️ thank you for the amazing sleepover fun!! I'm going with 🎲 ROLL FOR FIC 🎲 because it just sounds so fun and I hope I do it right lmaodvdf rose gold sparkles set PP character list and ofc smutty (are we surprised??? no ofc not)

love u to the moon and back!!!

MY DARLING SWEET SIL 🤍

yes yes yes roll for fic ROLL FOR FICCCCCC - we landed on: Frankie Morales and “You better watch your fucking mouth.”

love you MORE 🥰

done for - frankie morales x fem!reader

word count: 3.4k

warnings: drinking, brief violence (frankie punches a guy), unwanted advances from a third party (nothing explicit), car sex, dirty talk, I love frankie morales this was way too much fun to write

You’re the only reason Frankie comes to this bar.

It’s not his usual scene. Will dragged him in a few months back — despite his protests, but the eldest Miller brother was always stronger than Frankie, so he was left with little choice. But then he stepped through the doorway, spotted you behind the bar, and it didn’t matter that the music was too loud and every other person in the place looked to be at least ten years younger than him.

“What can I get ya?” you’d shouted over the music when he and Will approached the bar, leaning forward and giving him a healthy eyeful of your cleavage. Will shouted back his order and had to elbow Frankie in the ribs to get him to spit it out.

He called out the first beer logo he saw on the taps to your right, and you winked at him as you fished a glass out from beneath the bar and started filling it.

The pair of them lingered at the edge of the bar a while, Will combing the crowd for his fiancé, who had said she’d meet them there, and Benny, who was never one to say no to a night on the town. Will eventually spotted her, and after polishing off his drink, headed into the throng of people on the dance floor, leaving Frankie alone..

“Your friend abandoned you?” you called, and Frankie turned so fast he nearly fell off his stool. “That wasn’t very nice of him.”

“Nah, his girl’s here,” he responded, finishing his beer.

You took his empty glass and refilled it without asking, and when he opened his mouth to protest, you waved a hand at him. “It’s on the house.”

He shouted his thanks and you winked again.

The bar became an almost weekly occurrence, every Friday night like clockwork, either or both of the Millers in tow, and Frankie knew he was getting a little too hung up on the way your eyes lit up when he walked up to the bar. A few times, you finished your shift while they were still there, and finished your night on the other side of the bar top, drinking Benny under the table and talking to all three of them.

Before Frankie knew it, you were…friends, for lack of a better word.

“I don’t know why you don’t just ask her on a date, Fish,” Benny drawled, turning and walking backward in front of Frankie and Will, putting his arms out wide. “She’s into you, I know she is.”

“Yeah, cuz you’re the great expert on women,” Will jabbed, grinning at his little brother.

Frankie shook his head, lifted his shoulder. “I dunno. I don’t wanna screw it up.”

“Can’t do that if you don’t give it a shot,” Benny threw back, dodging Will’s fake punch. “What’s the worst that’s gonna happen? She says no?”

Both the Millers looked at him and Frankie felt his cheeks flush. “Well, yeah.”

“Then onto the next one, my guy!” Benny shouted, grinning broad. “That’s how it goes!”

Will rolled his eyes, shoving at his brother until he nearly stumbled backward. “Ignore him. You know I hate admitting when Benny is right, but I agree with him. She does seem into you, Fish. Gets all smiley when you show up.”

It just became a matter of finding the courage.

Tonight’s the night, he’s decided. It’s been a few weeks of hyping himself up, fake conversations in the bathroom mirror until he gets sick of staring at his own pathetic reflection. He’s seen you a couple times since Benny and Will’s pressing, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed your being a little more attentive to him than the Millers, leaning a little closer on the bar, your shoulders pressed together when you’re off shift and flagging down another bartender to order.

It’s late. He had a long day to say the least. He’s tense, his whole back a twisted knot of muscle from the moment he woke up. You seem a little off too, your smile tighter than usual when you greet him, something strange in your eyes when you slide his beer across the bar top. When you bring him a second, nearly an hour and a half since he arrived, he sees it again, and catches your wrist lightly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer, too quickly, eyes darting down the bar before meeting his. “Fine. No Millers tonight?”

“Nah, just me,” he replies, “sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you shoot back and your face softens, the tightness receding. “Always happy for your company, Frankie.”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “The feeling is mutual. What time are you done?”

You flick your wrist, glancing at your watch. “Another hour. Why?”

“You wanna go somewhere after? Get something to eat?”

He’s shocked at himself. The words roll so smoothly off his tongue, but when your eyes widen just slightly, embarrassment makes a home in his gut, his ears scorching and for once, he’s grateful for the dim lighting in the bar.

But then your face splits in a smile, and that strange look in your eyes is gone. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You tap your fingers against his on the bar as someone calls your name and he nods as you step away, grinning to himself as he sips his beer.

An hour later, and you’re cashing out for the night, talking quietly to one of the other bartenders. You’ve stopped by a few times to check on him now, getting him a glass of water and confirming you’ll still be out on time. The second time you came by, the strange look in your eye had returned, your gaze darting around as you spoke to him, and the tightness wasn’t just in your voice, in your mouth, but your whole body. It makes him uneasy.

He watches as you disappear through the doors that lead to the rear of the bar, and five minutes later, you reappear at the far end, changed out of your work uniform, your purse over your shoulder and a sweater slung over your arm. Frankie keeps his eyes on you as you try to close the distance between you and him, but halfway, something stops you.

Someone stops you.

It’s a hand on your arm first, halting you, and then the man rises from his stool, towering over you, and Frankie knows what that strange look in your eye is.

It’s fear.

His gut twists as he pushes himself off his stool, tossing a bill on the bar top as he steps away. He’s far enough that he can’t hear what the guy is saying to you, but judging by the look on your face — your eyes not only fearful, but watery too — it’s nothing good.

“Hey, is this guy bothering you?” he says, trying to sound as smoothly as possible as he steps around the man, offering you his hand. Your eyes go wide when you see him, and Frankie slides himself between you and the guy, turning to face him. They’re about the same height, and Frankie squares his shoulders.

Behind his back, he flexes his fingers wide, and you slip your hand into his, squeezing tight.

“Move, asshole,” the guy spits, and Frankie raises his brows.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he quips, “no.”

“We were having a conversation,” the guy continues, and makes the most comical looking angry face that Frankie has to stifle his laugh, “and you interrupted it.”

“Didn’t look like a conversation,” Frankie replies and pushes you another step back, trying to angle you towards the door that leads outside. “Looked like you grabbed her without her permission and were trying to scare her. Not a good look, my guy.”

“I’m not your guy, fucker. Now let me finish my conversation; you don’t wanna get your lights punched out for a dumb bitch like this one.”

Over his shoulder, he hears your sharp inhale, and the hand not wrapped in yours clenches into a fist. “You better watch your fucking mouth.”

“Do you even know her? Clearly you’re just as dumb as you look if you think she’s worth this sort of trouble. You don’t—”

Frankie decks him.

His knuckles explode in pain as his fist connects with the guy’s jaw. When was the last time he even threw a punch? He’s honestly not sure, but he releases your hand to hold his hurt one, and you cling to his arm.

“Frankie.”

It’s a good shot, cuz the guy drops. He falters back against the bar, spilling his glass, and it pours over the edge of the bar and onto him as he falls to the ground beneath the bar. His mouth is full of blood, and he moves like he’s trying to get up, but Frankie steps forward, you still half-wrapped around his arm, and steps on the guy’s chest.

“I said, watch your fucking mouth,” he spits, and pushes his boot down hard before turning away. Your eyes are wide, shining in the dim light, and you grab his bad hand gently, inspecting it.

“You…” you trail off, shake your head. “Why did you…”

“You still wanna get out of here?” Frankie asks, and he swallows hard, waiting for your answer. Did he scare you off? Fuck, did he—

“Yes.”

The moment the night air hits his face, Frankie feels like he just ran a marathon. He’s never been the guy to go punching other guys in bars. That’s been Benny’s MO, most of the time, Will a few times. Santi only gets testy when he drinks tequila, but that’s almost every time they go out.

But…he put his hands on you. And it was obvious you didn’t want him to.

He offers you his good hand as you step off the sidewalk, crossing the street to where his truck is parked. He walks you around to the passenger’s side, opens the door for you, and you clamber inside, dropping your purse to the floor of the truck, but then you turn back, grabbing his shoulder.

“I should explain,” you start, fingers curling in the fabric of his t-shirt. “He’s…he was a mistake.”

“You don’t have to explain anything,” he tells you, and your eyes soften again, your hand tugging at his t-shirt now. “I don’t make it a habit to go around punching people, but anyone could see he was making you uncomfortable, and I…I’m sorry, if it freaked you out.” His gaze drops, staring at his boots on the curb, your feet resting on the truck’s sidebar.

You cock a brow. “You’re apologizing? You just defended my honour in front of a bar full of people and you’re apologizing? Frankie.” You slip two fingers under his chin, lift his eyes back to yours. “I might have some explaining to do when I go in for my next shift, but you don’t have to apologize, Frankie. I should be thanking you.” Your hand curves to cup his jaw, and your thumb fits perfectly into the sparse patch in his beard, stroking light at his skin. “I am thanking you.”

He doesn’t know who leans forward first. He feels like he’s falling, for a moment, until his palm hits the leather of the seat, and your other hand moves up, knocking the hat from his head before your fingers lock into the curls at the back of his head. Your mouth tastes like mint and he hopes he doesn’t taste too much like beer as your teeth graze his bottom lip.

It’s a heavy kiss. He can feel it seeping down his throat, spreading through his limbs, spiking his bloodstream. He’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t thought about kissing you from the moment he first laid eyes on you, but something in the way you’re kissing him now, something like desperation in your movements, tells him he’s not alone in that.

The noises you make have him half-hard in his jeans. He goes to plant his other hand beside your hip, but you let go of his jaw to grab his wrist, redirecting it so his palm lands on your thigh instead, feeling how warm you are through the soft fabric of your leggings. His thumb digs into your muscle, finding you hotter towards the seam, and his breathing comes faster. “You still wanna go get something to eat?” he asks, the question more of a gasp than anything as you first try to chase his lips, but then instead let your mouth glance across his jaw, down his neck and over his pulse.

“No,” you answer, kissing your way back up. “I want you to take me home, Frankie.”

He makes it halfway.

Halfway before the hand you’d curled around his bicep slides further and further down, cupping his cock through his jeans, your body leaning across the centre console and your breath hot on his ear: “Pull over.”

He does as you ask, coasting the truck along the dirt shoulder. The road is empty; you’ve only been passing cars once every few minutes thus far. As soon as he shifts into park, your belt clicks open, and you’re shuffling across the seats, swinging one leg over his waist to settle into his lap.

You kiss him hard, licking into his mouth, hands roaming his hair, tugging at the strands. It steals his breaths, pulls low moans from his chest, and you drop your hips, grinding down on him. He palms your hips, tilting his head back against the headrest as all his blood flows south, cock now straining against the zipper of his jeans.

“Would you fuck me right here?” you ask, your mouth sliding across his jaw, to the sensitive spot beneath his ear. “Right now?”

You’re wearing a skirt, and as Frankie opens his mouth to answer you, you grab his wrist, leading his hand right up under the edge of the fabric, between the juncture of your thighs. He hisses when you press his fingers against your underwear, nearly soaked through.

“You feel that?” you murmur, and Frankie feels like he’s drunk, desperate to press his fingers into you, hear more of those noises you’d made when he first kissed you, see what other sounds he can pull from you.

“You’re sure…?” he asks, the words trailing off, one brow arching, and the hand not curled around his wrist moves from his hair to cup his cheek, thumb stretching up to trace his eyebrow.

“I’m sure,” you answer, “if you are.”

It’s a mad shuffle of fabric and hands, you reaching for his belt as he shifts you back slightly, both hands diving beneath your skirt. You moan as he runs his hands over you, unabashedly reaching beneath the elastic of his boxers to pull his cock free. Frankie groans when you lean forward and spit, saliva dripping off the end of your tongue and bullseyeing the tip of his cock. Your palm covers him a second later and his hips lift off the seat, chasing your warmth.

He gets his fingers beneath the band of your underwear, smirks when he strokes you clit and you mewl, your hand stuttering on his cock. “So wet,” he remarks, leaning forward to bury his face in your neck, licking at your pulse. “Wanna spread you out and eat you for days.”

You say his name like a prayer, and Frankie can’t help himself. His fingers pinch the fabric of your underwear and he tugs. The lace rips easily, the soft tearing sound mixing with your breathing and moans.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he tells you, and you shake your head, sinking down deeper onto his lap, guiding his cock to rut along your soaked pussy. “Fuck.”

“I’m on the pill,” you breathe out, and he nods, “and I’m clean.”

“Same,” he replies, but the word snaps when the tip of his cock catches where you’re the wettest. All you’d have to do is angle your hips and—

You slide onto him in one fell swoop, his cock filling you to the brim. It’s your turn to toss your head back, and your hands move to his shoulders, fingers curling in the fabric of his t-shirt while his return to your hips.

There’s something desperate in the way you move, and Frankie hopes his movements echo yours. He’s never had his cock ridden this hard, and when you grab his chin in one hand, force his eyes up to yours, he knows he’s done for.

“You feel so goddamned good,” he manages to grit out, and the face-splitting grin you give him makes his heart ricochet in his chest.

You tilt your upper body back slightly, and Frankie takes it as an opportunity. He grabs the hem of your shirt and shoves it upward, exposing your bra. Your eyes follow his movements, and you open your mouth, letting him press the hem between your teeth, you keeping it held up while he curls his finger in the cup of your bra and pulls. Your back arches when your nipple becomes exposed, and he moves quickly, latching his mouth around it, scraping his teeth against the sensitive skin.

It’s hard to meet your thrusts, bodies bent in the truck cab as they are, but he does what he can, both hands roving your back as you keep moving, pulling yourself up and slamming back down. A few more thrusts, and he finds your clit with his thumb, fingers curling around your thigh as he strokes it.

“Frankie,” you nearly wheeze, head tilting back on your shoulders, lips parted in the most perfect o-shape. “Oh fuck, god, fuck, I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he commands, head snapping up to stare you in the face again. Your features are bathed in moonlight, shadowed and illuminated, and he’s struck by how beautiful you are. “Cum for me.”

It ripples through you like a tidal wave, and Frankie feels every single moment. The way you go impossibly tight, every muscle in your body bearing down on him, but your hips still snapping. The way you flood his cock, the way your face screws up with pleasure, hands clawing at his shoulders as you ride him through it. It’s a miracle he doesn’t follow quickly, forcing his body to savour your orgasm before trying to find his own.

You drape yourself over him as you come down, your chest heaving as your hips slow, but don’t stop. He turns his head as you rest yours on his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You look so pretty like this.”

The corner of your mouth quirks. “Fucked out?”

He grins back, hums in approval. “Can’t wait to see what you look like once we actually get home.”

“You didn’t cum yet,” you nearly pout, and he opens his mouth to protest, to tell you he can wait, but you shake your head, a finger over his lips that has his cock twitching inside you. “I wanna see you cum.”

It doesn’t take much. You’re so warm around him, doubly wet from your orgasm, and you ride him impossibly harder. The whole time, your hand cups his jaw, lips near his ear, whispering the dirtiest things that have sparks of pleasure shooting down his spine.

He tries to stifle his shout as he cums, painting your insides, and you swallow the noise, lips covering his, tongue poking past his teeth. He leans his forehead into your chest, tries to catch his breath. “If we were closer to my place, I’d drive the rest of the way just like this.”

You grin like the devil as you slowly disentangle yourself from him, both of you groaning as he slips out of you. He mourns the loss of your weight against him as you shuffle back into your seat, the scent of sex now permeating the air in the truck. It’s intoxicating.

You don’t settle back completely, however, still leaning halfway across the console, your thighs pressed tightly together as you lay your palm on his thigh, resting your head on his shoulder. “I have other ideas as to how we can spend the rest of the drive,” you say, lifting your jaw to kiss his. “How long’s your refractory period?”Oh yes, Frankie thinks to himself, he’s done for. He had a hunch the first time he saw you behind that bar, but now, as he shifts the truck back into drive and feels his cock twitch with attention as your hands roam, he knows it for certain.

#my fics #frankie morales #sleepover sundae #frankie morales fic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier fic #frankie morales smut #done for

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rhoorl · 2 months

Text

Delta Landscaping: Chapter 15 Lucky Strike

Series Masterlist | Chapter 15 A03 Link

Word Count: 4.4k

Previously on As the Mule Falls: The neighbors met at David and Ty’s house for a Fourth of July party. Despite the guys having a lot of anxiety about it, they ended up having a pretty fun time thanks to all of their new friends. We ticked a few boxes off of our bingo card and laughed as David finally let the intrusive thoughts out. We also got a shy, nervous Benny and some meddling from Will and our favorite FBI agent.

In this Episode: We’re heavy on the Benny in this episode with little sprinkles of Frankie and a flashback of sorts for Santiago. Also, I’m trying to get to fight night so there are some jumps in time. In case you missed it, here is the moodboard for this chapter.

Chapter Warnings: A shoe goes flying at Santiago’s head. There’s some fluff and rom-com vibes and we finish with a little bit of angst with Frankie as he reaches one year of sobriety.

*Cue the theme music and roll opening credits*

Four weeks to fight night

“Good, Ben,” Frankie panted backing away and leaning against the ropes of the boxing ring, “we can take a break.”

“C’mon old man, don’t slow down on me now!” Benny flashed a lopsided grin as he worked the boxing gloves off of his hands.

“It’s not that I’m slowing down…you just seem more…focused.” He eyed Benny with a smirk.

It’s true. Benny had an extra pep in his step today. He got to the gym well before Frankie, claiming he needed to “burn off some energy.” When Frankie arrived, he found Benny in the corner of the gym jumping rope, his shirt discarded nearby on the floor. During today’s sparring session, Benny was on a different level. Every punch connected and he anticipated everything Frankie threw at him, causing Frankie to wince at a few well-placed jabs to the ribs. With the fight only weeks away, Benny was well in ring shape and nearing his peak, which made Frankie breathe a sigh of relief.

Tossing the boxing gloves to the side, Benny reached down to grab his baseball cap, eager to get the hair out of his eyes. “Just feeling good…yesterday was a lot better of a day than I thought it’d be.”

“I’m sure it was,” Frankie crossed his arms in front of his chest, watching as Benny grabbed a towel. “Any word on your date?”

“Thinkin’ Saturday…since we were planning on taking Sunday off anyway, figured I could be out late and it wouldn’t be a problem…” Benny’s eyes didn’t quite meet Frankie’s.

“Ben, we can take whatever day you want off,” Frankie chuckled before furrowing his brow at the sight of Benny chewing on the inside of his cheek. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just…I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t taking this seriously and getting distracted or anything…so I was just waiting I guess until a day I already was free.”

“Hermano, do I think Vanessa is a distraction? Yes, but in the best possible way,” he clasped a hand to Benny’s shoulder. “The past week you’ve been a nervous wreck, timid, and not yourself in here. But today? Today man…you’ll whoop anyone’s ass who steps up to you,” he laughed, seeing the corners of Benny’s mouth curl up. “So she’s distracting you from the bullshit in your head and I think that’s great. She seems like a really sweet girl, Ben.”

“Yeah…I…I really like her Fish,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t wanna fuck this up, you know?”

Frankie tilted his head up and laughed, “Trust me, I get it.”

“Oh shit, sorry man. Ah…how’re things with you?”

With a deep breath through his nose, Frankie took off his hat and ran his fingers through his curls, before putting it back on again. “Well, I was actually wanting to see if I could take next weekend off. Had a thought to surprise her and fly up there.”

“Hey isn’t next week….” Benny trailed off seeing Frankie gaze down to his feet. Making the realization, a huge smile came across Benny’s face, “I think that’s a perfect way to celebrate Fish! I’m proud of you man.”

“So, you have a good night last night? You left the party pretty early with Katie,” Santiago’s eyebrows waggled at Will as they loaded up a wheelbarrow with soil. They’d come up with an agreement with Frankie and Benny to work on Melissa’s backyard, executing their design and giving Benny the chance to concentrate on training.

“We’re just friends Pope…and yes we had a good night, did you?” Will looked over as he set down the shovel.

“Just friends? Wow, you know I kinda saw that comin’ not gonna lie,” he shrugged.

“Fuck off, don’t you have a shoe to dodge or something?” Will snapped as he walked into Melissa’s backyard.

“I guess I deserved that,” Santiago muttered to himself, realizing that Frankie must have spilled to Will that Amaryllis was back in the picture.

To say Santiago and Amaryllis had a dramatic situationship would be putting it mildly. They grew up together in New York as family friends. Neither made a move, although they heavily flirted with each other by the time they got to high school. Santiago had to endure her shitty boyfriends who never treated her well and she had to see him run through every girl in their grade and the ones above it too. She’d finally mustered enough courage to tell him she had feelings for him but it ended up being the same night he told her he was enlisting.

They exchanged letters for a few years, but those eventually stopped. He lost track of her, hearing that she’d gone off to Los Angeles to try her hand at acting or modeling. She landed a couple of small roles here and there. A falling out with a boyfriend caused her to move back to the East Coast, where she reconnected with a couple of Santiago’s cousins whom she was close to growing up. They shared that he was back in town and invited her out. It had been years since they'd seen each other, but her heart raced a bit at the thought of seeing him again.

When she walked into the bar, his eyes immediately met hers and he felt like he’d been run over by a train. She was confident, commanding the attention of everyone as she walked over to him. He longed for some comfort and she did too. The two found themselves locked away in her apartment for the next few days getting reacquainted.

Still, they were both too stubborn and headstrong to admit their feelings. What came next was a tumultuous and dramatic series of back and forths, neither one wanting to make that next step, that commitment. Instead, they found it easier to get underneath someone else rather than face their feelings head-on. They did try to have more, but it failed miserably each time with one of them retreating like a scared dog, unsure who to trust.

The pull to Colombia made for a clean break, at least that’s what Santiago thought. When he came back, he went home for a short while to see his mother and couldn’t help but pass by Amaryllis’ apartment. He sat on the stoop for what felt like hours, debating whether to knock on the door or just send a text. A sudden slam of the door made the decision for him.

“Hijo de puta, how fucking dare you show up here. After three fucking years?” She yelled as he got up and backed away from her. He tried to say something but he couldn’t get any sound out. Next thing he knew he was dodging a well-thrown sandal to the head as she continued to call him every name in the book both in English and Spanish. It was the last time he saw her.

But a couple of weeks ago, he noticed a Facebook message. She made the decision to move down to Florida and wanted to see if he was still there. He debated opening up the message or just deleting it but opted to read it and then go to her profile. She seemed happy, really happy. And noticeably single. So one thing led to another and she made the drive over to Tampa so they could meet for coffee and talk. He knew the guys had their opinions so he opted to keep a low profile about it for as long as he could.

“This is good practice Vandy, I get to do the whole dad spiel about being home before midnight and all of tha- ow!” Marcus ducked as Victoria threw a dish rag at him.

“Leave her alone, mi amor. Come back whenever you want Nessa, or don’t,” Victoria winked as her sister rolled her eyes. “So, what did you guys decide on?”

“I suggested Splitsville. Figured we could bowl and maybe eat, I dunno seemed like a good choice. He was excited about it.”

“C’mon admit it, you also picked it because it’s ‘Insta-worthy’!” Marcus chuckled as he made air quotes with his fingers.

“Oh my god, you’re such a dad,” Vanessa groaned. “Please don’t ever say Insta-worthy again, Buck.”

“Ooo, are you starting up your foodie blog again?” Victoria rubbed her hands together. “You always find the best places.”

“Excuse me?” Marcus brought a hand to his chest, “she’s not the only foodie in this family.”

“Of course, mi amor,” she kissed Marcus on the cheek as he plated the kid’s dinner. “Between the two of you, we always have the coolest spots to check out.”

“Are you sure this looks ok Vic? Not too casual?” Vanessa did a little twirl as Mariella clapped in her high chair.

Figuring out what to wear was always a chore for Vanessa, especially in recent years when she didn’t really care to shop for clothes…or look in the mirror for that matter. She’d changed outfits about 15 times, completely ransacking her closet. The final winner was a pair of dark wash jeans and a well-worn Tampa Bay Rays t-shirt, topped with a flannel. Victoria thought it was a bit unnecessary to wear a flannel in the middle of summer, but knew it was a security blanket for her sister.

“I think you look great, Vandy,” Marcus winked with a soft smile.

Will sat on the couch playing a video game, trying to hide his smile as Benny paced around the living room. “You excited?”

Benny stopped and looked over as he finished buttoning up his sleeve. “Yeah. J called a little bit ago…thought he was going to give me shit…” Benny trailed off rubbing the back of his neck.

“We’re excited to see you out there again Bean,” Will paused his game, putting the controller down to walk over and assess his brother’s outfit. “You look like….me…why’re wearing this?” Will grabbed at the front of Benny’s button-down shirt.

“I dunno…I wanted to look nice,” Benny pouted looking down at his outfit.

“Wear what makes you comfortable Ben. C’mon,” with a reassuring pat on his brother’s shoulder, he led him back to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed as Benny went through his hangers.

Without saying a word, Benny changed out of his long-sleeve button-down shirt and slipped on a fresh white crewneck t-shirt and black jean jacket. He switched out his boots, put on some sneakers, and grabbed a baseball cap.

“There’s my Bean,” Will smiled. “Feeling better?” Benny nodded as the corners of his mouth turned up.

“Tia Nessa? I wanna see Bunny!” Mariella waddled over to the couch where Vanessa sat.

“Si mi vida, Bunny is coming over soon,” she moved over so Mariella could work her way onto the couch next to her. It was so cute how quickly her little niece had taken to Benny. The past couple of days she’d managed to get home from picking up the kids around the same time Benny was finishing up his run. Mariella would squeal when she saw him and he’d do something silly to make her laugh.

Nico sat quietly coloring with Victoria as they all heard the doorbell ring. Vanessa went to stand up but Marcus intercepted since he was already up. Opening the door, he found Benny shifting from foot to foot with his hands in his pockets.

“Hey there Benny, good to see you, come on in,” he held the door open for Benny to pass through.

“Bunny!!” Mariella quickly got herself off the couch and rushed over to Benny, nearly tripping over her unsteady legs in the process.

“Hey baby girl,” Benny smiled, whisking the little girl off of her feet as she giggled.

She started to babble and Benny looked around the room in the hopes someone could translate toddler.

“She asked if you’re taking Vanessa ‘bye bye’ in the car,” Victoria’s heart melted seeing Mariella bond so quickly with Benny.

“Ohh ah yeah, I guess. Yeah, we’re going to go ‘bye bye’ in the car. But I’ll bring her back, I promise,” Benny winked.

“You, ah, ready to go?” Vanessa got up, grabbing her crossbody from the counter.

Seeing her about took his breath away. She looked effortlessly beautiful, and he suddenly felt less self-conscious about his casual attire.

“Yeah. I…um…can I put you down so I can take your um…Tia…out?” Benny raised his eyebrows waiting for a response. With an enthusiastic nod, he set Mariella down and she ran to Marcus and hugged his leg. “Ah, after you,” Benny put his arm out, gesturing for Vanessa to pass, while wishing the Pikes a good night. He could feel Marcus’ eyes on him so he tried his best to not let his eyes wander as she walked by him.

“Don’t keep her out too late now,” Marcus winked as Vanessa groaned, grabbing Benny’s hand to quickly lead him out of the house before Marcus had another chance to embarrass her.

“Sorry about him,” Vanessa quickly dropped Benny’s hand once he closed the front door. “Buck looks for any chance to give me shit.” She furrowed her brows as Benny followed her to the passenger side of his car.

“It’s alright, hell I’ve done worse to Will,” he chuckled, opening the door for her.

She quickly got in and sat a bit dumbfounded as he sprinted around to his side of the car. It’s not that she hadn’t ever had a man open a door for her, her sister was married to Marcus “Mr. Romance” Pike after all, but it still gave her butterflies and made her even more excited for the night to come.

“So, I have a confession to make,” Frankie said as he sprawled out on his bed, propping the phone against a pillow.

“Ooo mysterious. Tell me more Morales,” Jo quipped. She was nestled underneath a fluffy blanket on her couch for what had become her favorite part of the day - her nightly FaceTime chat with Frankie.

“So, what would you say if I ah,” he ruffled his hair and took a deep breath, “what if I came up there next weekend? I know you’re busy with work and stuff, but I’ll be out of your hair by Monday. You can drop me off at the airport before you go to work, or I’ll take an Uber.” He waited for what felt like an eternity for her to respond, wondering if his Wi-Fi crapped out because she was stuck looking at him. “What do you say mi cielo? I, I don’t have to, if you already have plans-”

“No! I mean yes….I mean, no I don’t already have plans and yes I would love for you to come up here. Are you sure? Doing this so last minute?” She couldn’t help the huge smile that stretched across her face. Being away from Frankie for the past week was torture and the idea of getting to spend a couple of days with him, being wrapped in his arms and hearing his laugh ring in her ears made her downright giddy.

“I’ve been thinking about doing it since you left, so it’s not as last-minute as you think babe,” he winked.

“Well, I am clearing my entire schedule. We can play tourist for a day and then maybe hang out…be lazy, order some takeout, cuddle, ooo and we can watch movies in person rather than one of us being on a delay,” her eyes twinkled as she started to race through various ideas.

Frankie chuckled, he loved it when she got excited and started to ramble. “Whatever we do, I’ll be happy because I’ll be with you.”

“I’m so excited! This next week is going to go by even slower now that I have something to look forward to,” she beamed.

“Are you serious?” Vanessa shook her head, dumbfounded that Benny casually threw a perfect game. Trick shot after trick shot, it didn’t matter, he always got a strike.

Benny didn’t even watch his last shot. He had his eyes on Vanessa as he put his back to the lane and released the ball behind him. Hearing the pins knocked down, he sauntered back over, flashing a boyish grin.

“Ooo yay, the food is here,” he rubbed his hands together, looking at the spread. All of his training had made him build up quite the appetite these days, so he wasn’t shy about ordering his fair share.

“Wait wait!” Vanessa put her hands up to stop him from taking a mozzarella stick. “Sorry, I um…one sec,” She bit her bottom lip, pulling out her phone and then rearranging the plates. Benny looked on confused but also amused, admiring how her brows furrowed as she concentrated on getting everything to look just right.

Pleased with her setup, she started snapping photos. “Sorry…I am one of those people, annoying I know, but I figured tonight was a good excuse to start up my account again,” she didn’t look up from her phone as she took a couple of videos too. “Phone eats first,” she winked before motioning that the coast was clear.

“What kind of account you have?”

“Oh, it’s just on Instagram…I started it a few years back…it’s a fun way to explore the food scene and…sorry this is all boring I’ll stop,” she laughed to herself as she grabbed a few nachos.

“No, no, it’s not boring, I like it. I like food, clearly,” he motioned to the four plates in front of him and she snorted. “Lemme see, I wanna follow.” He motioned toward her phone with his chin.

She reluctantly handed him the phone and watched as he scrolled her account. After a few moments, she saw his forehead scrunch.

“What? I know, I don’t always have the best lighting, I’ve been meaning to buy myself a little light thing and - “

“No, hey,” he put his hand on her forearm, which sent an electric pulse up her body. She suddenly felt like it was way too warm for her flannel. “No this is great, these photos are beautiful…I just was wondering where you were.”

“What?”

“I don’t see you in any of these photos. Maybe your hands every once in a while, but how come you’re not in these?” He shook the phone as he turned it back to her.

“Oh…I…um…I dunno I guess I’d rather have the focus be on the food,” she looked down, playing with the straw of her water. The truth of the matter was she was tired of dealing with the random trolls who would end up making a comment about her body or how much she went out to eat. She deleted everything off of her account that had her face in it, opting to showcase the food instead.

“Hmm…” Benny nodded, handing back her phone. He pulled his out and started typing as she looked on with inquiring eyes. “There, you have a new follower,” he winked.

She looked at the notification, trying to steady her breath at how hot he looked in his profile picture. “Holy shit, are you like an influencer or something?!”

Benny looked a bit sheepish, “I started the account when I got into fighting…a way to promote them…and then I just kept posting gym stuff and it grew from there.”

“Well, you have a lot of very loyal fans it seems,” Vanessa smirked as she scrolled through some particularly thirsty comments on his account. Normally something like this would be a complete red flag, especially given her ex’s history, but there was something about Benny’s shy smile that put her mind a little more at ease.

“Pope used to date a girl who did social media stuff for her job so she set it up for me. I don’t post a ton, but it’s there. I’m mostly on there to help keep an eye on my niece, lord knows her dad is a lost cause when it comes to anything on his phone that’s more than making a call,” he chuckled to himself. “But now I’m excited to see your food stuff on my feed,” he smiled.

“Well thanks…I started the account when I lived in Charlotte…gave me an excuse to get around and explore,” she gave a tight smile as she bit into a slider.

“Maybe we can explore some stuff…together?” Benny’s hopeful eyes found hers as she slowed her chewing.

“Um…ok, yeah sure, that’d be fun,” she smiled back. “Although you may regret what you’re signing yourself up for,” she winked.

He regarded her with a lopsided grin. “Oh, I don’t think I’m gonna regret it at all, boss lady.”

Three weeks to fight night

Things around Mule Fall Court settled into an easy routine the following week. Benny and Frankie kept a consistent schedule at the gym. Sometimes Connor would tag along too, although he was trying to soak up the last bits of summer before he and Aria had to head back to school. Meanwhile, Will and Santiago were nearly done with Melissa’s backyard and already looking for their next project. One day as they were cleaning up, Victoria stopped over and they talked about her lawn. They all agreed that it would be a good project to tackle once Benny’s fight was done.

Will found himself hanging out with Katie a few nights so they could finish up the last season of The Mandalorian. He had to admit, he actually really enjoyed it as much as the company he had while watching it. Ever since they established their boundaries as friends, it felt like a weight was lifted off. They were able to just relax and found themselves opening up in ways they hadn’t with another person in years, or ever. Will also decided to treat himself a bit and got a motorcycle. He found riding around, feeling the wind in his face, to be calming.

Katie and Megan made a vow to restart their weekly wine night, adding the usual suspects to the mix. New to the group was Katie’s coworker, Miranda. Like Megan, she was a single mother and rarely took time to do anything for herself. It had taken a few weeks of coaxing but Katie finally convinced her to take Aria up on the babysitting offer and come over for a night of laughs and girl talk – yes, David included himself in that.

Benny and Vanessa hung out a few more times. Thanks to some good-intentioned meddling from Marcus, he recruited Benny to come over and keep Vanessa company while he and Victoria enjoyed a night out to celebrate their anniversary. They played with the kids all night and ordered pizza. Vanessa was thankful to have Benny there since he was able to run around and tire the kids out.

Mariella was adamant that Benny tucked her into her crib and Benny and Vanessa stayed in her room for a while until she went to sleep. Vanessa learned that Benny had a beautiful voice. He sang a lullaby to Mariella to finally get her to close her eyes and drift off to sleep. Settling back on the couch, Benny dutifully listened as Vanessa showed him a few restaurants that recently caught her eye online.

He was still nervous about pushing things too far, but couldn't help but flirt with her. What made him even more nervous was he felt like she was flirting back. He so badly wanted to kiss her, trying his hardest to keep his eyes from drifting to her lips. She moved closer to him, crossing a leg on the couch to face him, laughing at a joke he made. When the laughter died down, she looked at him, trying to steady her breathing. He licked his bottom lip and her eyes betrayed her, looking down as she sucked a breath in. At the same time, they both leaned forward, he brought his hand up to cup her cheek. His lips were near to hers when they heard the garage door, pulling them both away from each other like two teenagers who had gotten caught almost making out by their parents.

With a deep breath, Frankie looked at the calendar hanging on his fridge by a single magnet. This date was one he’d been equally dreading and looking forward to – a year since he flushed the last bit of his stash down the toilet and decided to start the journey of putting all of the broken pieces back together again. It hadn’t been an easy year by any stretch of the imagination, but quietly and steadily he made it to milestone after milestone.

Valeria was the first person to text him this morning. She knew her brother shied away from attention, so she acknowledged the day with a simple I’m proud of you Paco. Love you. She followed that up with a picture of his niece and nephew smiling at the camera, Antonio proudly showing off the gap from the tooth he lost this week.

Jo texted him this morning none the wiser about the significance of this day other than the fact that it meant she was going to see Frankie. It had only been two weeks since their shared flight down to Tampa. Lucille and Valeria had both separately referred to it as the “flight that changed your life” but Frankie hadn't fully embraced that moniker. It had been so long since he’d opened up his heart in this way. He battled with a constant inner struggle between wanting to guard his heart and wanting to jump head-first into this.

This weekend’s trip felt momentous for several reasons, but the biggest was that Frankie planned to tell Jo everything about his past. Although it was under different circumstances, opening up to Lucille and having her embrace him with love and compassion did wonders for him. For so long he’d been in a spiral of self-loathing, thinking that everyone was disappointed by him and that he was a failure. But Lucille cracked the door open and shined some light and he was hopeful that Jo would kick it wide open. The idea of sharing the darkest parts of himself and his past terrified him more than crash-landing a helicopter, but it was something he had to do. He wanted more with Jo and if he had any chance at it, he had to be honest with her.

Next Time on As the Mule Falls: We get closer and closer to fight night. The neighbors host a party to welcome the Pikes to the neighborhood. A little bit of pining and angst. More Cousin Joel phone calls.

A/N: Hi! First, I hope you are still enjoying this series. We have SO many storylines in play with several more to come, I do have a plan for all of this I promise. And all of those eagerly awaiting Cousin Joel (me included), he’s on his way soon. That’s part of the reason why we had some time jumps in this episode. With that being said, I’m going to try something new and do some extras in addition to the episodes. Consider it your extended or deleted scenes if we were watching the box set of DVDs of the season (dating myself with that reference). I’m already planning an extra to show more of Benny and Vanessa’s bowling date along with a one-shot of Frankie’s trip to Atlanta.

Thank you as always for reading, sharing, or sending me a message about this story!

Taglist: @goodwithcheese / @gemmahale / @trulybetty / @noxturnalpascal / @periodtsparadox / @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin / @maggiemayhemnj / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @avastrasposts / @meveispunk / @chaoticfestninja / @beboldbebravethings / @casa-boiardi / @katw474 / @linzels-blog / @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain / @pimosworld / @lynnchun / @anoverwhelmingdin /@lilmizmoz / @pedrit0-pascalit0 / @titlee78 / @noisynightmarepoetry / @inept-the-magnificent / @perennialdoll247 / @for-a-longlongtime / @readingiskeepingmegoing / @harriedandharassed / @musings-of-a-rose / @anavatazes / @sherala007 / @midnightraain / @partyofone3414 / @inthedarkestnight / @millennial-teenybopper / @csarab615 / @darkheartgatita / @southernbe / @weho2kcmo / @itspdameronthings / @mclibs23

#triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #benny miller #frankie morales #will miller #santiago pope garcia

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flightlessangelwings · 3 months

Text

My Boys

Frankie Morales x fem!reader x Benny Miller (Messy Pile of Affection universe)

Word count- 1.9k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), mmf threesome, established relationship, pegging, anal, fingering, oral (m receiving, hint at f receiving), soft dom reader, sub!Frankie, praise, pet names (babe, baby), fluff, feelings, no use of y/n

Notes- A bonus for Peg That Middle Ages Man Campaign!!! Thanks again to @wannab-urs for putting this event on!! And while this is et in MPoA-verse, this can be read on it's own since it's just smut lol! But I love writing this thruple so much so I'm happy with how this turned out! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on new posts!!

“Shit…” you breathed as you soaked in the sight before you, “You guys look so fucking hot right now.”

Benny looked up from where he concentrated on Frankie in front of him and smirked at you, “So do you, babe,” he winked.

You bit your lip as you grinned back at one of your boyfriends. The way his gaze bore into you made your skin tingle. Absentmindedly, you ran your hand down the front of your body, testing Benny with a squeeze of your breast before you grabbed the dildo that sat snugly in the harness you wore- the only thing on your body. Benny let out a soft moan at the show you put on as his cock twitched just against Frankie’s face.

Between you and Benny, Frankie was positioned on his hands and knees, just as bare as both of you. His skin glistened from sweat from the fingering you just gave him, and generous amounts of lube dripped from between his asscheeks. Benny had watched as you prepped Frankie for your dildo, his hand stroking his cock the entire time as he enjoyed the show the two of you put on.

“You alright, Frankie?” you murmured as you caressed his back, running your hand up and down his spine.

“Great, babe,” Frankie smirked as he looked over his shoulder, “Fuck you do look hot with that strap!”

Heat rose in your skin as your tone dropped, “I like you on your hands and knees too, baby.”

“Fuck, me too!” Benny interjected enthuastically.

Frankie turned back and looked up at Benny with his mouth open. His mouth watered at the sight of his cock, so beautiful and yet just out of reach of his lips. “Ben…” he breathed.

In a rare display of soft tenderness, Benny cupped Frankie’s face, running his thumb across the soft stubble as they locked eyes. From behind, you still ran your hands up and down Frankie’s sides in a soothing manner. Heavy breaths filled the room as the three of you stayed hypnotized by each other. Hands roamed all over, touching and caressing wherever you all could reach.

It was you who finally broke the silence, “You ready, Frankie babe?” you asked in a hushed tone, yet one that still held all the need you felt as the tip of your dildo tickled the skin of his ass.

He let out a low groan, “Yes,” he replied to you as he adjusted himself slightly, “Fuck me, baby.”

Benny let out a low groan of his own as you coated the dildo once more in lube and positioned yourself. “She’s gonna fuck you so good, Fish,” he moaned, knowing first hand just how proficient you were with your strap.

You glanced up for a moment and gave Benny a knowing smirk before you turned all your attention on the toy that you had poking at Frankie’s entrance. Before he could come up with a clever comeback to Benny’s comment, you pushed the tip in, causing any thought he might have had to vanish from his mind.

As Frankie moaned loudly, all he could think about was how good the stretch of your cock felt as you slowly pushed into him. You kneaded and spread his ass as you watched the toy disappear into him inch by inch until your hips met his ass. Benny too watched in awe, frozen in captivation.

“You doing ok, Frankie?” you asked in a whisper as you gave him a moment to adjust.

“Y-yeah,” he whimpered as his arms trembled to keep him up. He then looked up to meet Benny’s piercing gaze, “Your turn, Ben.”

“Fuck…” he breathed as Frankie’s mouth dropped open for him in an invitation.

Without a word, you gave your hips a thrust, catching Frankie and Benny both by surprise. And the sound that Frankie let out went right to your core and made you clench around nothing. “Fuck,” you echoed Benny’s curse under your breath as you thrust again, pushing Frankie forward this time.

As he lurched forward, Frankie aimed himself right at Benny’s hard cock, and the moment he was close enough, he wrapped his lips around it. Benny gasped as the warmth of Frankie’s mouth engulfed him, and he grabbed his shoulders to make sure he didn’t let go.

Together, you and Benny found a rhythm on either side of Frankie. The slow thrust of your hips made a squelching echo in the room as Frankie’s moans were muffled by Benny’s cock in his mouth. Benny, however, moaned loudly as he felt Frankie’s tongue along his length. And you couldn’t help but moan as you watched your boys in front of you.

Picking up your pace, you felt the room warm as the need grew exponentially. Overwhelmed with emotions, you reeled your hand back and slapped Frankie’s ass hard as you thrust even deeper into him. The moan he let out, while muffled, still filled the room as Frankie jolted forward in surprise. Benny’s eyes widened as he watched you rock your hips harder and faster into your shared boyfriend.

“Shit baby,” Benny groaned, “Do that again.”

“You like that, huh?” you purred as you did exactly that. Slapping Frankie’s ass again, both men groaned and you felt dizzy from how hot it was. “Yeah… I think both my boys like that,” you added as you slapped Frankie once more, squeezing it hard this time.

“Fuck…” Benny growled as his own hips stuttered into Frankie’s mouth, driving his cock down his throat.

Frankie had never been so helpless in his life. And he had never been more turned on. Though his own groans and moans were muffled by Benny’s cock in his mouth, he knew you both could tell he was enjoying this. The muscles in his ass clenched as he squeezed your dildo as you thrust into him over and over again, mirroring the way both he and Benny would fuck you.

Benny could feel Frankie’s moans around his length, and it sent shivers of pleasure up his spine. “Shit…” he groaned as his mind went blank too. Normally Benny had a lot to say during sex, but tonight he was speechless. Watching you fuck Frankie while his own cock was deep down his throat was almost too much in the best way possible.

“My boys are so fucking good for me,” you cooed as you grabbed Frankie’s hips to angle yourself differently. As you gave one harsh thrust, Frankie’s mouth dropped open, allowing a cry to spill out unmuffled. “That’s it,” you purred as you started rocking your hips back and forth again, “That’s my Frankie baby.”

“Fuck, baby,” Benny’s eyes started to roll back into his head as he felt his climax start to build, “I’m the luckiest fuckin’ guy to get you two… Ahh… Fuck….” The way Frankie groaned into his cock sent wave and wave of pleasure up Benny’s spine. And Benny couldn’t help but thrust his hips into his mouth in time with your thrusts. “Fuck I’m gonna cum…”

That was the only warning Frankie got before Benny’s cock exploded in his mouth. He gagged for a moment until he closed his lips around his cock and sucked hard, letting his boyfriend ride out his orgasm in his mouth. He was rocked back and forth by your pounding on the other end, but Frankie concentrated hard on swallowing every last drop, not wanting anything to go to waste.

“That’s it, Frankie baby,” Benny cooed as he gave one last thrust.

You stilled yourself for a moment, burying your dildo deep inside Frankie as Benny slowly pulled out of his mouth. You allowed him to take one deep breath as he tasted fresh air for the first time, but then you started up again. “Let us see you cum now, Frankie,” you murmured as you reached around and wrapped your hand around his cock.

Frankie’s moan filled the room as he was able to voice his pleasure for the first time that night. He leaned forward, resting his hard on Benny’s chest as he listened to the sweet nothing’s he whispered in his ear as you pounded into him.

Pumping his cock at the same time, you let out a moan of your own as you listened to the chorus of your boys together. Even after having cum, Benny wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked it lazily, sending chills up his spine and overstimulating himself. And you couldn't help but notice.

“Fuck…” you breathed as you clenched your jaw and sped up your pace.

“Fuck!” Frankie cried out as the sensations almost got too much for him, but in the best way, “Baby…”

“Cum, Frankie.”

That was all it took to send him over the edge. Gripping into Benny for dear life, Frankie came hard with a loud groan. He saw stars as you thrust into his sweet spot over and over again while you worked his cock with your hand. And feeling Benny as an anchor only added to the emotions. Frankie made a mess between their bodies as his seed splashed them both.

With a final grunt, you thrust fully into Frankie once last time, pumping his cock to squeeze every last ounce of orgasm from him before you knew he had enough. Heavy breaths filled the room as you leaned forward, resting against Benny as well.

“I’ve got you, babes,” Benny murmured as he wrapped his arms around you both, awkwardly holding his boyfriend and his girlfriend in his arms, “Fuck that was so hot,” he added in a whisper.

“Fuck yeah it was,” Frankie replied with an exhausted laugh.

You just hummed with a smile on your face as you enjoyed the feeling of Frankie under you. It was almost as if you could feel the cock inside of him, much like the way they each liked to stay inside of you for several moments before pulling out.

Benny was the first to open his eyes, taking in the sight of the two loves of his life in his arms, “I love you guys,” he blurted out.

“I love you too,” you blinked your eyes open.

“I love you guys too,” Frankie groaned as he pushed himself up, causing your strap to pull out of him in the process of adjusting to see you both.

He turned to you first, cupping your face and placing a deep, passionate kiss on your lips. He swallowed the moan you let out, and savored the taste of you on his tongue. Then, Frankie broke away with a gasp for breath before he turned to Benny and kissed him the same way. Hand roamed all over each other as you leaned in and joined in on the kiss. The three of you became a puddle of lips and tongues as you all tried to kiss each other at the same time, emotions overpowering the fact that it was awkward and messy. But that was perfect for how the three of you always were.

This time, it was Frankie who broke the silence as he turned to you, “Now how about Ben and I eat your sweet pussy until you can’t fuckin’ think anymore, baby.”

You whimpered in response as your skin tingled and warmed. In the heat of the moment, you almost forgot that your own needs weren’t taken care of.

“Shit I love when you talk like that, Frankie,” Benny groaned, “But I am starved so…”

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beefrobeefcal · 5 months

Text

Dark!Frankie Saga: VII

Chapter Seven: Bring It Home

Pairing: Dark!Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Boston. The Frontiersmen is a crime syndicate that deals in drugs, arms, and anything else they can to keep themselves on top. Since the original ring leader, Tom, was allegedly taken out by a rival gang, it's now run by Big Fish, with Pope second in command. Ironhead runs the numbers and Benny is the muscle. Your family member put you down as collateral when they needed credit to score more smack. Problem is, they can't pay it back, and Big Fish & the Frontiersmen always get their payment...

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Chapter Word Count: 3,740

Content Warning: angst, threats of violence, crime, snark, Major Character Death, stabbing, violence, betrayal, kissing

Author's Notes:

Y'all, I know you had big dreams for this chapter... and I thank you for your patience. Please don't hate me 🥺

The biggest, juiciest, wettest thank you to @neverwheremoonchild for being the Beta Fish for Big Fish (get it? Beta'ing the story about Big Fi-... okay, you got it). Thank you, Nevy! 💜🥩💜

thank you to the following for being supportive good eggs & sounding boards: @theywhowriteandknowthings @toxicanonymity @xdaddysprincessxx @thehalflifeofloveisforever @rebel-held @gracieispunk

And this is not the Chubby!Frankie we know and love in the Catfish & the Mouse universe; he's dark, mean, and hungry. I'll be updating this each week (Monday/Tuesday) until you lose interest or I finish it - let's see what happens first! when i feel like it👌

On the Waterfront Masterlist | Previous Chapter

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From the time Frankie pulled you onto his lap at the bowling alley to when he stood with you at your bedroom door, you felt like you were in a dream. A beautiful, hazy dream that you were pretty sure was going to end with him fucking you in your bed.

“You did good tonight, Honey.”, Frankie said sweetly, cupping your jaw and cheek in his big hand.

You couldn’t help but stare back, falling further for him through his deep, brown eyes. He but the softness in his gaze hardened as he sucked in a breath and released your face, stepping back. He broke the connection with you and looked away. He cleared his throat and nodded towards your door, leaving you feeling cold and confused. What did you do wrong?

“Night, baby girl...”, he mumbled as he turned, heading towards the lounge.

You opened your mouth to say something to him, but all you could do was feel your body react to the lack of his touch and your cheeks burn from the rogue tears that fell. You were alone in the hallway, and you didn’t know why.

*****

Pope had been outside in the shadows, trying to remain inconspicuous while on his phone, when the blacked-out SUV pulled up at the front doors.

“Yes, I know!... fuck you... I’ll call you back...”, he hissed quietly into his phone before ending the call and focused on the two of you returning.

He watched as Frankie got out of the SUV, holding his hand out to you, and saw the stupid look on Frankie’s face as he helped you down from the vehicle. Pope shook his head and rolled his eyes, watching Frankie pull you in for a disgustingly sweet kiss before he tugged you into the building.

He scoffed as he brought his phone back up to call his contact back, a message popped up on the screen.

Steven is done. Now what?

Pope grinned as his deviously sadistic mind’s wheels turned; he pocketed his phone and walked into the building.

*****

Frankie’s heart was beating fast as he walked away from you, and his palms were sweating as he clenched his fists. He didn’t stop until he was standing in his office, shakily sucking in his breaths, and he allowed himself to think about what had just happened. It was one thing for him to go down on you in the bowling alley and hold you as your body came back down – he was still in control. But looking in your eyes as you looked back at him, seeing the same thing he felt staring right back told him he was no longer holding the reigns in this, and it terrified him to his core. He felt like you could see who he really was under his harsh and mean exterior; under it all he was just the former drug addict who battled his demons daily to keep himself upright; just the man who made himself bigger so he could be respected, because no one was going to respect a scrawny junkie. And if you did see it, why did you still want him at all? Did you see weakness? Did you know that just asking him for a kiss would make him weak in the knees? Why did he allow you to get under his skin?

He was finally broken from his trance when the door to the office opened behind him. Frankie whirled around and found himself facing Pope.

“Fish... you got a sec?”, Pope asked, cautiously approaching him, with a judgmental eyebrow raised. When Frankie nodded, trying to shake the weakness of you from his mind, Pope nodded back in kind.

“What d’you need?”, Frankie said coolly as he made his way around his desk and sat down heavily on his chair.

Pope walked up to the desk and leaned heavily on, deciding not to tell Frankie that he saw him come back with you, and how he saw the look on his face and knew what it meant. He instead decided to set in motion what he hoped would be the last thing he needed to.

“I got a message... from one of the grunts under Will... he was making the rounds and checking in on people that owe us...”, he said quietly, trying to sound nervous about what he was going to say. “and, he - uh…”,

“Fuckin’ spit it out, Pope.”, Frankie groaned after a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes.

“He went to Steven’s...”

“Who the fuck is that and why do I care?”, he growled, not looking up at him. “Get to the fuckin’ point!”

“It’s your girl’s brother...”

“What about him?”

“He’s dead.”

Frankie looked up at Pope, feeling his blood run cold.

*****

After being left on your own, you sat in your room, feeling the buzz from the beer slipping away and letting your thoughts drift towards more nefarious avenues. It hurt to know that no matter what happened, you would end up alone; your brother sold you out for more drugs, Benny hated and abandoned you, Will threw you into the lion’s den, and Frankie didn’t want you beyond getting what he could from you. And Pope... you knew what Pope wanted and it made your skin crawl.

The tears that you’d cried had mixed with your make up had dried on your face, leaving your skin feeling itchy and tacky. You needed to clean yourself up and give yourself some comfort, even if it was small. You stepped into the shower and tried to wash away your sadness.

After drying off and getting into your pajamas, you once again sat in your room alone. The weight of solitude was heavy on you, so much so, you could barely stand it. All you could do was pick up your Kindle and try to distract yourself until you fell asleep.

*****

Benny sat back and watched the other guys play a round of foosball. They’d invited him to join but he’d waved them off. He’d wanted to sulk and be angry with no interference; he couldn’t get your face out of his head from the last time he’d seen you the night before, and Frankie’s words to him sounded off like a fire alarm in his skull: She’s not here for you. Stick your dick in literally anything else, but that is mine.

He’d replayed your last interaction with him over and over in his mind over the past 24 hours, building up more rage and fury over how stupid you were being. He didn’t want you for himself; he wanted something better for you. There’s no way Frankie could offer you what you deserve. Fuck, no one in this fucking building could. He sneered as he shook his head, anger rising further each time Frankie’s words bleated in his brain and deafened the rest of his thoughts. Frankie told him to fuck anything like you weren’t even a person. You were just part of the wide scope of anything, like an object he could own and devour like he did everything else he wanted.

Will watched Benny silently from across the room. He saw his brother furiously twisting his hands and clenching his jaw; saw the vein in his forehead pop out as his face turned red with rage. Will knew he was at fault for this; he knew Benny had a soft spot for vulnerable people, especially women. He knew Frankie was wrong about how Benny felt, but he wasn’t willing to correct him and confirm that Benny wanted to fuck her as much as Frankie wanted to diet. But the powder keg that was hitting a critical point across the room in his brother was far more worrisome than he’d accounted for, given even a day going by hadn’t managed to dampen his rage. Benny could be a dangerous man, given the right mindset, and he wasn't afraid of violence or being violent. It was the reason he was so valuable to the Frontiersmen - he wasn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty for the right cause, and Will worried that you were becoming the right reason for Benny to unleash that terrible dog in him at Frankie.

As Will decided it was in everyone’s best interest to try and quell the fire, Pope walked in with a smug grin aimed directly at his brother, and Will felt like he was about to watch a train derail.

“What’s with the long face, fucker?”, Pope crooned sadistically as he sauntered towards Benny.

“Fuck off, Pope.”, he growled in response, his eyes glaring up at the smiling man.

Will saw the determined, toothy smile breakout over Pope’s face as he squatted down in front of Benny.

“What’s the matter, baby Benny?”, Pope mockingly cooed, amusement bleeding from his tone. “You mad that Fish is cockblocking you from that sweet little puss – “

Benny’s hand jutting out and gripping Pope’s throat stopped him from finishing his sentence. He stood up, pulling Pope into a standing position as he stared wide eyed and clawed at Benny’s arm and wrist, gasping and choking.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”, Benny snarled, pulling Pope’s face close to his.

Will ran up beside Benny and gripped his shoulder, shaking him. “Benny! Drop’im!”

He yanked Benny’s arm back and Pope collapsed on the floor, gasping and coughing.

“GET YOUR FUCKIN’ HANDS OFF ME!”, Benny roared as Will’s arms wrapped around him form behind and pulled him back.

“Fuck you, Pope! Fuck you 'n fuck your fuckin’ smug mouth!”, Benny screamed at him as Will continued to restrain him. ‘FUCK, WILL! LET ME THE FUCK GO! I’ll FUCKIN’ KILL YOU!”

Will knew Benny didn’t mean it. Sure, he’d probably take a swing and hit him – he’d done it before. But beyond that, he knew it was Benny’s rage talking.

Pope shakily looked up at Benny and offered him a cruel smile. Benny saw red; that fucker fueled his blinding rage, and he threw Will off him, storming out of the rec room.

“Don’t move, Pope!”, Will yelled, pointing his finger at him as he turned and ran out after Benny.

Pope smiled, watching him leave after his brother, seeing a brand-new opportunity. Fortune favours the brave…

*****

Benny was on a rampage. Like a rabid bear, he stalked the hallways, making a beeline to the barracks. He’d walked right past Frankie’s office, not even considering stopping there first to tear into him over what he was doing. Will quickly caught up to him, yelling for him to stop.

Frankie sat in his office chair. He heard heavy footsteps coming towards the door and he looked up, but they moved past. He thought nothing of it until he heard Will.

“Ben! Stop!... Stop 'n take a fuckin’ breather, man!”

“FUCK YOU AND FUCK POPE AND FUCK FISH AND FUCK THAT STUPID BITCH!”

“You’re not thinkin’ this through! You don’t wanna hurt her, Ben! BENNY!”

Will’s panicked voice caught Frankie’s attention and he stood up, listening to the sounds move further down the hallway. He knew not to get in Benny’s way when he was mad, but he was heading towards you and the idea of Benny being in this foul of a mood and even Will wasn’t able to placate him didn’t sit well with him.

Benny threw the doors to the Barracks open and screamed your name. Even being in a separate area, the volume at which he called you made you jump. You dropped your Kindle on the bed and moved cautiously to your door. You clicked the flimsy lock on the doorknob, and you jumped heard the door to the hallway slam against the wall from how hard it was flung open.

Your heart was beating deafeningly loud in your ears, and you backed away from the door as the thumping footsteps got closer and your doorknob jiggled.

Just as soon as you were mentally thanking what every deity was listening for that lock, the door was kicked open and there was Benny. Breathing hard, his face twisted in a snarl and his fists clenched.

You looked up at him, not sure what he was going to do. “Benny... wha - “

“You're so fuckin’ dumb!”, he yelled, stomping towards you and cutting you off. “You’re fuckin’ smarter than this!”

He stood over you, his hot furious breaths fanning over your face. You tried to back away, but he grabbed at your arm.

“Don’t fuckin’ move!”, he yelled in your face, his hold on you tightening.

You yelped and tried to pull away from his grip. He shoved you back, sending you to the floor. Shock gave way to fear and anger as he stalked towards you, and you scrambled back into a standing position.

“Just fuckin’ stay down, you- “

“What do you want from me?!”, you cut him off, yelling in a cracked voice as tears welled up in your eyes.

His eyes narrowed at you and his scowl set further in his face. “I want you to smarten the fuck up! I want you to stop bein’ a dumb bitch!”

You angrily wiped at the tear that fell down your cheek, and, for a brief moment, Benny’s eyes looked at you almost horrified at what was happening. Your face contorted with a frown, and you pushed him with all your strength, making him take a small step back to keep his balance.

Neither of you knew that Will was in the hallway watching this unfold, not sure how to intervene, and his focus was torn away from you both as Frankie walked into the hallway and stood next to Will, ready to jump in.

“What is your problem?!”, you screamed at him.

His menacing glare returned, and he stepped up to you, challenging you.

“My fuckin’ problem is you’re not thinkin’ with your goddamned brain!”, he bellowed. “My problem is you’re thinkin’ with your pussy like a fuckin’ whore- “

Before you could register your actions, your hand harshly made contact with his face; you slapped him hard.

The room fell silent, and Benny’s head snapped back to you, all fury gone. What was left was the look of hurt and disappointment, and you weren’t sure who it was directed at – you or himself. Will rushed in and grabbed Benny, hauling him back. Benny’s eyes didn’t leave yours until Will had dragged him out of the room, cursing at him for his temper.

And once again, you were alone. Your chin quivered and your body trembled as the rage dissipated from your system, replaced with shame and remorse. What did you do?

Before you could collapse under the weight of your actions, Frankie stepped into the doorway.

You raised your eyes to him and held back a sob as you shook your head, silently saying please – I can’t handle any more.

“Baby girl...”, he spoke softly as he walked slowly towards you and pulled you into his arms. You tried pushing him back, but he gently used his strength against you, holding you in his embrace. His gentleness after the harsh intensity of what you’d just experienced with Benny broke you, and you let out a heavy sob that wracked your body. His large hand held your head against his chest and he murmured softly, trying to soothe you.

“I’m so sorry, baby girl... come on, Honey... calm down... he’s gone... I know, baby... I know... he’s gone now... I’m sorry... he doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground, baby... he doesn’t know what he's talkin’ about...”

“Stop... just stop!”, you squirmed out of his hold and stood back from him. You furiously wiped your face again and shook your head. “He’s right! He’s right about everyth - “

“No, baby girl... no, he’s not!”, Frankie pleaded, holding his hand out to you, beckoning you to come to him.

It made you angrier, his actions seemingly still trying to train you to be his good little bitch, coming when he calls. You shook your head, rage taking over. “I’m not a fucking dog! You don’t order me around like one!”

His voice was so soft. “Baby... Honey, please...”

“No! Mr. fucking Morales! He’s right - I’m just another one of your dumb whores that you can throw away! I’m no better than that bitch you had on your lap at the bowling alley! You just keep me like a pet and bring me out when you need a fuckin’ fix! You don’t want me - no one does!”

You didn’t realize you were screaming at him and walking towards him. Frankie’s hands were held up, trying to calm you. His eyes were wide and pleading, his mouth was open and frowning, as he shook his head.

“Baby girl… shhhhh… no… no, Honey…”, he shook his head, and cooed, moving towards you again. “No, Honey… you got it all wrong…”

“Don’t…”, you warned as you stepped back, glaring up at him. To Frankie, you must have looked like a cornered, feral cat, fueled by rage and fear.

You didn’t intimidate him. He reached out and cupped your cheek, as he’d done countless times before, but this time you pulled out of his grasp.

You didn’t scare him. But he needed your softness back; this harsh and jaded version of you hurt him in ways he didn’t know he could be wounded. His heart ached as his other arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into him again. He smoothed his hand over your jaw, his thumb gently caressing your lips. You tried, albeit half-heartedly, to get away, but he saw the softness slipping back into your eyes.

You didn’t deter him. “Don’t push me away, baby girl…”, he said softly, bringing his face close. He ghosted his lips over yours. “I want you here… with me.”

He pressed his lips gently against yours. Your resolve to fight dissolved and you wrapped your arms around his neck, grasping for more contact with him. Opening your mouth to deepen the kiss, he followed suit, slipping his tongue against yours. You were both desperate. Yes, you’d fooled around in a bowling alley, but this was something that wasn’t scratching an itch or a power play; this was the two of you finally, without words, admitting that you needed one another on a baser, more human level.

Frankie pulled back first, breathing heavily and his eyes scanned yours, asking silently for more. You nodded, and with that, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of your room and into his.

*****

After his run in with Benny and making sure his windpipe wasn’t crushed, Pope was back outside around the building in an alleyway. Hidden in the shadows, the only sign of his presence was his phone screen lighting up his face.

As he searched through images confirming Steven’s demise, a call came through. He answered it quietly, keeping his voice low but harsh.

“I need more time - … no, you don’t understand, he - ... I know that was the deal, but you gotta hear me out- … I can’t just… I know it has to look like an accide-… I tried! The fuckin’ little brother… Yeah… fuck, no… No… I know, but I ca-… fuck. Okay… I understand… Yes! Fuck! I got it!”

Will watched from the far end of the building. Pope’s voice, although quiet, carried, and Will’s mind raced, putting piece by piece together, not quite being able to wrap his mind around what he was hearing. He didn’t know what he was up to, but he knew he didn’t like it.

He watched as Pope hung up and stopped himself from throwing his phone against the wall, and he clenched his fists and teeth. Will moved on his feet, causing the gravel to shift and crunch under him.

“What do you want, Will?”

He stopped, feeling his body tense at Pope’s recognizing his presence, even in the dark.

“Who you talkin’ to, man?”, he asked. Will tried to keep no discernable emotion or feeling in his tone, trying to keep Pope off his anxious scent.

“No one… one of the grunts fucked up… just tryin’ to set them straight.”

Will hmm’d in acknowledgement; he knew it was a lie and he knew Pope wouldn’t be convinced that he believed him, but he knew saying anything more would probably drive more suspicion.

“I’ll ask again, Will… what do you want?”

Will moved closer to Pope, trying to keep his voice down when he spoke.

“You gotta stop rilin’ Benny up. I know you think it’s funny, but he’s gonna really fuck someone up and we don’t need that.”

“Fuck you, Will… what are you, his keeper? His fuckin’ nanny?”

“I’m the last thing keepin’ him from killin’ someone… If wasn’t there tonight, you think you would’a made it?”

“So, what you’re saying its you’re the one keeping a leash on him?”

Even in the dark, Will knew Pope was facing him. He could feel the breath on his face. He was close – too close.

“If you weren’t around, no one could stop him?”

“Jesus, man… You know he’s got a fuckin’ temper... he needs someone to hold him back.”

“Yeah, he does have a temper.”

“Then stop pushin’ him! Stop antagonizin’ him!”, Will pleaded. He heard Pope huff a laugh.

“You’re in his fucking way, Will.”

Will heard the smile in Pope’s voice, and his blood ran cold.

“The fuck is that supposed’ta mean?”

Pope got close to Will and grabbed the back of his neck and held his face to his.

“You’re in my fucking way.”

Will felt a sharp sting in his stomach, and then warmth. Wet, hot warmth on the skin of his abdomen. The sharp sting erupted into searing pain, and he sucked in a ragged breath as his head spun.

“Santi… wha- don’t….”

“Fuck you, Will.”, Pope huskily whispered, ripping the knife out of Will’s gut. “This is on you. You wouldn’t let him just...”

“San-Santi? Pope? … why?” Will gasped, stepping back and clutching his middle. He stared up at Pope, wide eyed and trembling as he fell against the wall behind him and slid down to the ground. A tear slipped down his face as he watched his friend – his murderer – turn and walk away, leaving him alone in the alley to slip away into the inky darkness.

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TAGLIST:

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

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal tummy #frankie morales #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #chubby frankie rights !!!!!#chubby!frankiedark #dark!frankie morales #dark!frankie still chubby though #on the waterfront #OTWF #major character death #🥩

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perotovar · 6 months

Text

into the beat of the night (ch 3) "self control"

moodboard by the lovely @hellishjoel, gif by me

pairing: frankie morales/enby!oc!river price (they/them) rating: 18+ (minors dni) chapter warnings: fingering, one (1) handjob, discussions of sexuality/gender (in an... interesting way), goth stereotypes abound, swearing, more cute shit word count: 3k dividers by @saradika beta: @scenaaario (ily adrienne ♥)

for notifications, follow @oakslibrary and turn on alerts ♥

series summary: frankie thought he had himself figured out by now. he liked both men and women, had dated both in the past. but when someone that challenges what he thinks that means comes into his life, in an unlikely place, he truly learns who he is, and more importantly, who he loves.

series masterlist

“What’s their name again?”

“River. I already told you, Benjamin,” Frankie chuckled, taking a drink from his beer.

“Right, sorry. I’ve just never met a non… what was it again?”

Frankie, Benny, Will, and Santiago were at their usual bar that night. It was in a different part of town than The Night Owl, with a completely different vibe, but it was cozy. The four of them had become regulars and knew the staff by name.

“Non-binary person,” Will said, shoving Benny on the shoulder. “Are you listening at all?”

Benny shot his brother a look and stuck his tongue out, because apparently Benny was still five. “Of course I’m listening! Non-bi-nar-y,” he sounded it out, tapping his finger on the table with each syllable. “What does, uh… What does that like, mean, Fish?”

Frankie furrowed his brows and took another drink. “I haven’t actually asked yet. All they told me is that they’re like… both, and neither, at the same time.” He hummed thoughtfully. “I was a little distracted after that and didn’t get to ask.”

Santiago grinned, slapping Frankie on the shoulder. “Good for you, Fish.”

Frankie rolled his eyes, but smiled, thinking about the kiss he shared with River the other night. They kept texting, and he’d even asked River out on a real date, which brought the guys to the bar. It had been a year or so since his last date and he needed advice on where to take someone like River. He wasn’t as familiar with the goth subculture and thought maybe his brothers would have experience. At the very least Ben, who’d been with a few different kinds of people.

“I did look it up that night after I got home, but I’m still a little confused,” Frankie shrugged.

“Just ask them, man,” Will offered. “They seemed cool with your first question.”

Frankie nodded, a look of determination crossing his features. “You’re right. It couldn’t hurt, right?”

Frankie was sweating. Marisol was with her mom this week, so he hadn’t had to worry about having that conversation yet. He was planning on telling River about her tonight. He checked his hair in the mirror again before he left, deciding to go without his hat tonight, but worried all his nerves would deflate the work he put into it. He sighed as he messed around with the unruly curls again. This is why he stuck to hats. Frankie’s phone vibrated on the bathroom counter, startling him.

ok im ready, eddie 😉

River still thought it was hilarious that Frankie had worn an Iron Maiden t-shirt to a goth club, claiming that it fit his “old man aesthetic”, whatever that meant. This led to River referring to Frankie as “Eddie”, after the band’s skeleton mascot.

Yeah yeah i’m coming

Frankie saw the typing dots appear and disappear a couple times before disappearing completely. He sighed to himself and checked his hair one last time before leaving his apartment.

When he got to the neighborhood of the address River had given him, he checked his phone again, making sure he was in the right place. He slowly crept up the hill towards the last line of apartments and immediately his heart started pounding. Frankie really liked River. He didn’t want to fuck this up, and hoped him being a dad wouldn’t ruin that. Or his big dumb mouth.

River was standing at the bottom of the staircase of the apartment complex and waved, a huge grin on their face. Frankie stopped the truck and leaned over to open the passenger side door for them to climb inside. The scent of bergamot, clove, and sandalwood filled his nostrils again as the truck door shut. Frankie calmed down, and smiled, leaning over to give River a kiss on the cheek. “You look amazing,” he breathed, taking in River’s outfit; they had a collarless shirt buttoned up all the way, tucked into plaid pants, and nice dress shoes. All black, of course. They wore no lipstick today, their makeup was simple, and their hair was perfectly straight. It looked like they’d freshly shaved the right side of their head as well. River’s look was so new for Frankie, he couldn’t help being captivated by them every time he saw them.

“Thank you,” River smiled, heart skipping a beat. “Where are we off to?” They rested their ring-clad hand over Frankie’s larger one in between the two of them on the seat. “When you said it was a surprise, I admit I got a little nervous.”

Frankie placed his hand on the back of the truck seat and looked behind them as he backed up to leave the apartment complex. River’s eyes were glued to Frankie’s neck and subtly licked their lips at the sight of the thick muscles and veins. Their eyes moved up to Frankie’s side profile and they swooned.

“How come? Don’t trust me?” Frankie smirked, making eye contact before his eyes moved to the road, and started heading toward their destination.

River shrugged, even though they knew he couldn’t see them. “Maybe. Maybe not,” they smirked. The red light of the clock on the console caught River’s eye; 7:30pm.

“Well, that’s a shame. I had a nice dinner planned and everything,” Frankie showed them an exaggerated pout, a twinkle in his eye.

“Oh, well, in that case.”

The restaurant Frankie picked might’ve been a little more… casual, then he remembered. The last time he was here was with Jackson. He shook off the memory. He was here with River now. The place was actually more like a diner, with vintage photos of women in pinup-style outfits and poses.

Frankie reached for River’s hand and laced their fingers together as he found them a table, letting River sit first.

“Such a gentleman,” River teased, squeezing his hand before getting comfy in the booth.

“I try,” Frankie smiled bashfully as he joined them on the opposite side. The light shining down onto the table lit River beautifully. He noticed that River’s button-up was actually a dark green, with subtle velvet roses all over.

They ordered their food and made easy conversation. River talked about their job as an architect. They were working on designing a building that was be built in the next couple of years in the city. Frankie found it fascinating but couldn’t focus on the words, too distracted by their calming voice and watching their mannerisms. River talked with their hands a lot whenever they got excited about something, and Frankie thought it was adorable.

“Sorry, I know I’m rambling now,” River shook their head, cutting themself off. Frankie frowned,mouth full of french fries.

“Please, continue, I don’t mind listening.”

So River did. They talked about anything and everything. Frankie interjected here and there, but was more than content to listen to River talk. When there was a lull in the conversation, Frankie’s palms started to get sweaty. Their plates were empty now, but River still had half of their milkshake left.

It was now or never. Frankie took a deep breath.

“So… I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he started. River raised an eyebrow and rested their chin on the palm of their hand, listening. Frankie cleared his throat before continuing. “Um, so I know this is a dealbreaker for some people, so I won’t be offended if you want to stop things after tonight. B-But I would like to stay friends if that’s the case.” He rubbed his sweaty hands on his thighs. “I’ve got a daughter.”

River was quiet for a second before a small smile appeared on their face. “I’m actually not surprised. How old is she?”

“You’re not?”

“Of course not. You’re an incredibly handsome man of a certain age–”

“Hey.”

“And any woman would be stupid not to make an honest man outta you,” River winked.

Frankie blinked a couple times before chuckling softly. River continued to surprise him. “Well, her mother isn’t in the picture, at least not with me. Marisol, my daughter, sees her half the time, and stays with me the other half of the time,” he explained, crossing his arms comfortably over the table. “Oh, and she’s four.”

“Aww, can I see a picture of her?”

Frankie’s heart fluttered as pulled his phone out, opening the album of photos devoted just to his little girl. He slid his phone over to River and they started scrolling through the photos with a smile on their face.

“She’s adorable, Frankie,” River hummed, returning his phone back to him. “I can tell you think the world of her. I won’t lie, I’m not really… uh, a kid kind of person. I always just planned on being the cool cousin and not a parent,” they muttered, resting their chin on their palm again.

Frankie nodded in understanding. “I totally get that. I just figured it wouldn’t be fair to you, or to Marisol, to keep her a secret, y’know?”

“Absolutely, and I appreciate you telling me,” River nodded back. “But I like you. A lot. And I’m willing to give this a shot with you. So I don’t think Marisol is a dealbreaker.”

Frankie’s heart soared at River’s words. “I really like you, too,” he grinned like an idiot, cheeks warm. “C’mon, we still have another part to this date.” He stood up and held his hand out for River to take.

After paying, the two found themselves back in Frankie’s truck heading down the highway. It was starting to get darker and the roads were clearing. They pulled up to a drive-in, but there weren’t any other cars.

“What is this, Grease?” River teased. “A diner and then a drive-in movie?”

Frankie snorted and reached out his window to pay for their tickets before finding somewhere to park. “I happen to like drive-in movies and diners, thank you very much.”

“That’s because you’re old–”

“I’m only a few years older than you,” Frankie deadpanned.

“Details.”

About a third of the way into the original Halloween, Frankie put his arm around River’s shoulders and pulled them close. River happily cuddled into Frankie’s side, loving the warmth and softness they found there.

Halfway through, River’s eyes started wandering elsewhere. They looked down at the crotch of Frankie’s jeans, and wondered what lay beyond the tight denim. They looked up at Frankie’s face and kissed the little patch in his beard that refused to grow hair. Frankie looked down at them, deep brown eyes looking over River’s features. He went from their dark-rimmed eyes, to their collarbone, and back to their plush lips, his heart pounding. He didn’t need any further convincing and started kissing River deeply, holding the side of their face.

River hummed into Frankie’s mouth and slowly crawled into Frankie’s lap. They grinned as Frankie huffed a breath against their lips, holding River’s hips in his large hands. River kissed the corner of Frankie’s mouth before moving down to the side of his neck and sucked a mark where his neck met his shoulder. Frankie shuddered, moving a hand down and squeezing River’s ass. They lifted their head and looked at the far-away expression on his face.

“Are you one of those guys that doesn’t like to fool around on the first date?”

Frankie blinked up at River, thinking about it. “I mean, no, but–” “Good,” River growled, latching back onto Frankie’s neck and sucking hard.

Frankie moaned openly at that, but pulled them away. “Wait,” he breathed. River tilted their head to the side and didn’t say anything, letting Frankie continue. “Um, I had another question.”

“Okay.”

“Well, uh. I don’t mean to kill the mood, because God, I really wanna get back to that, b-but I was curious,” Frankie swallowed, not making eye contact again. “I looked up what non-binary was after you told me and I was a little confused, and basically I just– Um, I wanna know like, how… this would… work,” he trailed off, gesturing between the two of them and at the bulge in his jeans.

“You’re asking what I have so you know how to proceed.” It was a statement, not a question, said softly in understanding. River played with the curls at the back of Frankie’s neck.

Frankie nodded. “If that’s an invasive question, I’m really sorry, and–”

“Shh,” River chuckled, pecking Frankie on the cheek. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m not offended. You’re actually being really sweet about all of this. I know this is new for you.”

Frankie smiled shyly and shrugged, but let them continue.

“I was raised as a girl. ‘Assigned female at birth’, is typically what we call it,” River looked down, playing with the collar of Frankie’s shirt. “You were assigned male at birth. The doctors looked at your parts and decided that’s what you were, and you never felt like it was incorrect, right?”

Frankie nodded, listening carefully.

“Right. Well, it felt wrong to me. I didn’t really know what the feeling was growing up. It’s actually kind of a recent development for me.”

Frankie chewed on his bottom lip, one question still buzzing around his head. “How do you… How did you know? And did you… have any… surgeries? To um–” he didn’t know how to word any of this.

River laughed softly. “Yeah, I had top surgery. I no longer have breasts, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Everything below the belt is still intact,” they grinned, moving their crotch closer to Frankie’s. “The complicated answer, especially for someone so new to this, is that gender is a societal thing. How you’re perceived, presented to the world is just through the eyes of society. How you see yourself is what actually matters, though. And when all that societal bullshit doesn’t affect your life, the roles you’re ‘supposed’ to play don’t matter anymore.”

“I’m River. River is me. I don’t care how people see me. I did all of this,” they gestured to their body. “For me. Not for anyone else. Because if I didn’t, I would be unhappy. And my own mental health and happiness matters more than some so-called church-going do-gooder’s opinion.”

Frankie looked at River in awe. Their confidence and respect for themself was one of the most attractive things he’d ever seen. “You’re amazing,” Frankie breathed, surging forward to kiss them deeply. He gripped River’s ass again and pulled them closer, grinding his hardening cock against them.

River moaned softly, grinding back, and tangling their fingers into his hair. Suddenly, Frankie pulled back, catching his breath.

“Wait, does that, like…” He thought for a second. “While I was doing my research, I came across a couple other terms I didn’t know.”

River chuckled and kissed down Frankie’s neck softly. “Go on.”

Frankie’s breath hitched, speaking shakily. “Um, I’ve always considered myself b-bisexual– oh– a-and if non-binary people are technically a th-third gender, then does that change?”

“No,” River hummed, licking underneath Frankie’s ear, before taking the lobe into their mouth and nibbling.

“It doesn’t?”

River shook their head. “Bisexual is more like an umbrella term. People interpret it differently,” they reached a hand down between them, trailing their fingers to Frankie’s belt buckle and undoing it. “For example, you’ve always assumed it just meant you were attracted to men and women, right?”

Frankie moaned softly as the pressure was relieved from his hard cock, and nodded.

“Exactly. Another way you could see it is you being attracted to people that are like you,” they gripped Frankie’s cock tightly, making him gasp sharply. “And people who aren’t.” They grabbed his hand and placed it onto their crotch, grinding against him.

He was so hard he was throbbing, and so turned on his head spun. He started undoing River’s dress pants and slipped his hand down to their panties, finding their pussy impossibly warm and wet.

“Fuck,” Frankie groaned, rubbing at their clit through the fabric of their underwear. River moaned sweetly and bit their bottom lip, moving Frankie’s boxer briefs out of the way so they could grip around his cock.

“You’re so hard,” River grinned, rubbing their thumb over the tip. They started stroking him slowly, watching as the head of Frankie’s cock appeared and disappeared underneath the foreskin.

Frankie was breathing heavily, resting his head on the back of his seat and looking at River through his lashes. He moved the tips of his fingers in small circles for a few moments before he moved his fingers beneath their underwear and touched bare skin. River gasped at the contact and nodded, giving him permission. Frankie slowly sunk his middle finger inside them and started pumping in and out. His thumb rubbed in time against their clit. River started moaning louder, throwing their head back to expose their throat to him.

Frankie saw an opening and latched his mouth onto their neck, marking them in return as his free hand held the back of River’s head. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned, biting at River’s skin.

River shuddered at the praise, rocking their hips against Frankie’s hand. “‘M close,” they whined, panting down at him. They started to lose their rhythm on Frankie’s cock and squeezed him tightly in their fist. Frankie nodded in understanding and started moving his fingers faster, adding a second one as the slick sounds coming from between River’s legs filled the truck.

“C’mon, baby. You gonna come for me?” he breathed against their neck, leaving soft kisses against their skin. The contrast between what his mouth and what his hand were doing was overwhelming and River wouldn’t change it for the world.

River nodded, their brows moving downward in pleasure before stilling above him as they came. Their hips rocked back and forth over Frankie’s hand as they came down, moaning and biting their lip.

The sight of River coming was enough for Frankie and his cock twitched hard as he erupted all over River’s hand. He grunted and hid his face in their neck as his balls emptied messily. He whined softly, twitching in the aftershocks.

River giggled quietly and held him close after licking their hand clean. “Gonna have to blow you next time,” they hummed thoughtfully.

Frankie groaned as his oversensitive cock twitched between them. “Don’t say shit like that while I’m still vulnerable, you menace.”

River bit his cheek, then kissed it softly. “You love it.”

He did. He really did.

a/n: please enjoy this meme that inspired the scene above

#frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier smut #triple frontier fic #oaksfics

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musings-of-a-rose · 6 months

Note

First sentence prompt (use whichever character your heart desires)

“Don’t look at me, I thought we were going for tacos.”

Taco Tuesday

Pairing: Benny Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 630+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: So @theewokingdead originally gave me this idea for Tommy, but it fits for Benny as well. And then I got this one sentence fic starter and instantly knew what to write!

“You text Tommy to prepare for taco Tuesday. You later show up to his house with tacos, and when you walk in you find him naked and realize he thought taco Tuesday meant something else entirely.”

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

Dating Benny was always a blast. He has so much energy that he pours into everything he does, whether it’s his MMA fighting or going to the movies. He always gets super into whatever we’re doing and it just makes my life so much brighter. Don’t get me wrong, he has his moments where he’s not quite himself, his past consuming him. But he’s been working through it with the help of his best friends, myself, and a great therapist.

It’s Tuesday and it’s been a long day. I walk inside my apartment, kicking off my shoes and leaving them on the mat near the door, heading into the kitchen to get a glass of water. As I’m drinking, my phone pings, so I fish it out of my purse. Benny’s picture, one of us together at the State Fair with turkey legs the size of our heads, fills my screen and instantly my mood lifts.

BENNYKINS: How’s my most beautiful girl?

Me: Most beautiful? Is there more than one of us?

BENNYKINS: yup. The one of you that goes in public and the one that does freaky shit in bed 🥵😘😈

Me: you bring out the freak in me what can I say?

…

BENNYKINS: good to know 😉

Me: you free tonight?

BENNYKINS: you asking me out?

Me: always. I was thinking it’s Tuesday so taco night at your place?

…

BENNYKINS: sounds perfect

Me: great! I’ll bring supplies

BENNYKINS: I bet you will 😉

I stop at the store on my way to Benny’s, gathering up the stuff we’d need to make tacos. Quickly making my way through the store, I’m grateful that there was no line at checkout. The quicker I can get to Benny the better. I really miss just being around him.

I pull up to his house, parking behind his Jeep. A quick glance in the mirror to make sure I look ok, not that it matters to Benny in the slightest, and I grab the bag of food, heading up to the front door. I shift the bag and knock, hearing him yell “Come in!” from somewhere in the house. I open the door and close it behind me, sliding the lock into place and kicking off my shoes before I head into the kitchen, setting the bag down on the counter.

“Benny?”

“In here!”

I head down the hall, gently pushing open the door to his bedroom where I’d heard his voice coming from. My breath catches in my throat and I freeze - Benny was on his bed, completely naked, laying sideways with a giant grin on his face.

“Hey pretty lady!”

“I..wh…what are you doing?” I can’t help the smile creeping across my face, but I still haven’t moved, unsure of what to do.

Benny cocks his eyebrow up. “It’s taco Tuesday.”

“Yeah. I have the food on the counter, but what?” I gesture towards him.

His smile falters just a little. “You said you were bringing your taco.”

A laugh erupts from the back of my throat, my head falling back with the weight of it as I realize what he’s thinking. “I said I’ll brings tacosss. Not just my taco!”

“Oh.” He shakes his head, momentarily caught off guard before the smile returns and he jumps up, his whole uh body bouncing with the motion as he bounds over to me, cupping my face with both hands and placing a soft kiss to my lips.

“You brought your taco, and I have the sour cream.” How he says this with sincerity and a straight face, I’ll never know.

“How does that turn me on?”

He smiles, his eyes studying my face as he dusts his nose across mine. “Because you love me. Now come on - let me stuff your taco.”

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry

#benny miller #ben miller #benny miller x reader #benny miller x you #benny miller x f!reader #triple frontier #garrett hedlund #benjamin miller #benjamin benny miller #garrett hedlund x reader #garrett hedlund x you #garrett hedlund characters #garrett hedlund character fanfic #garrett hedlund character ff #garrett hedlund character fanfiction

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dankfarrikfifi · 4 months

Text

The Birthday Bash

Pt 1 of Some Version of You, 4.8k

A/N: contains mentions of smoking and drug use, a cute first encounter, and a few kisses. reader is not described other than being shorter than Frankie, wearing glasses, and having hair long enough to braid. This is my first ever fic, I’m hoping you guys like it! Reader has a name in my mind but I liked keeping it open for you to decide. Let me know what you think! Hopefully I’ll have the second part up soon :) Will get more explicit as the story goes on.

For as long as you could remember, your birthday was never your own. Sometimes it was a point of contention, but because it was shared with your lifelong best friend, Benny Miller, you couldn’t be too mad about it. Since you were 4 and Benny was 6, the two of you had shared a party, your “Birthday Bash” as it had come to be called. By the time you were turning 24, this had not changed.

People were piled into every corner of the backyard of the house you shared with Benny, some your closest friends, others very vague connections that were simply capitalizing on the opportunity to party. There was a fire blazing in the pit, and the pool was threatening to spill over with the amount of bodies filling it, despite the slight chill that had settled in the air. Benny, being the social butterfly that he is, was wandering around, greeting guests and chatting with anyone who came his way. You, on the other hand, were observing from a distance, perched on the retaining wall in the back of the yard with Benny’s brother. Will Miller, being the oldest and more reserved of the brothers, was content to share a quiet moment with you, passing a joint back and forth.

“Ya know,” Will said before releasing the smoke he had been holding in his mouth, “You should probably go greet some of your guests, be a nice host.”

“As if,” you nudge his shoulder with yours, almost knocking the both of you over in your haze. You erupt in a fit of giggles, a sound that should not come out of a man his size escaping Will. “We all know Benny is the social twin and I’m the antisocial one.”

“I thought twins were normally the same age,” he has made this argument countless times, and it’s almost automatic at this point, “And also, had the same parents.”

You roll your eyes, not bothering to fall into the trap of arguing this one out with a high Miller boy. Instead, you motion for the joint, pulling your hands around the lighter as the flame flickers. You’re midway through a deep inhale when you look up and notice the two men walking towards you. And at the sight of the taller one, the breath gets caught in your throat, and the coughing starts up. You feel like you can’t breathe, from the combination of smoke burning in your lungs and the incredibly attractive man.

“Jesus, dude, what’s wrong with you?” Will is laughing, patting your back in a lame attempt at easing your suffering. You finally manage a deep breath in as the two men finally reach you. The shorter of the two looks around 30, short kept curly hair and some stubble across his cheek. You vaguely recognize him, trying to place his face while also checking out the other one. He’s tall. Like really tall, at least compared to you. His handsome, boyish face is clean shaven, and his dark brown hair looks as if it’s a few months out from a buzz cut.

“I’m good, I’m good,” you manage to get out, “lost my breath there for a second.”

“It’s because we’re just that damn good looking, Miller.” the shorter one greets with a sharp grin on his face. Will flips him the finger, before standing up and man-hugging them each. They pat each other on the back and grin, and you realize why they had looked so familiar. You had seen them in the pictures Will had saved from the army.

“Santi, glad to see you’re still an arrogant asshole,” Will shoots back as he sits next to you, gesturing for the men to sit on the bench situated across from the two of you. “Fish, looking good, how are you doing?”

“Doing good, Will, doing good.” The taller one, Fish as Will had called him, grumbles, his deep voice resonating in your mind. He turns to you, holding a hand out in greeting, “I’m Frankie, nice to meet you.”

You blush, hoping the night hides it from the attractive man in front of you, grasping his hand in yours. It’s huge in comparison, warm and calloused. You introduce yourself to him before turning and doing the same to his friend.

“Ah, the birthday girl!” He grins at you, “Very nice to meet you. I’m Santi, we were in Delta Force with Will.”

“Oh cool!” you smile at the two of them, holding out the joint in a silent offer that they both take you up on, “Will’s talked about you guys a lot, nice to meet you. What brings you to town?”

The four of you get to talking, Santi explaining that he and Frankie had needed a change of scenery after leaving the army, and Will had talked so highly of the town they now all lived in. Frankie chimed in with some details here and there, but otherwise didn’t talk as much as his counterpart. Despite this, you feel your eyes drifting to him more, catching his own already looking at you. You learn that Santi had joined Will in his recent purchase of a local gym, down the street from the coffee shop you worked at.

“Little Mike’s, seriously?” you laugh, the name always bringing you amusement, “I love that place! Benny and I work out there all the time. Please tell me you’re not changing the name.”

“Of course not!” Santi assures you. “I don’t even know who Mike is, though.

“No one does, that’s what makes it so amazing. It’s a mystery.” you joke, and you internally cheer when it gets Frankie to laugh a little. You turn your attention to him.

“What about you, Frankie?” you ask him, trying to learn more about the quiet man. He clears his throat slightly before speaking, the joint held delicately in his fingers.

“I’m actually working as a mechanic, at the shop on Central?” he maintains eye contact the entire time, making you feel like it is just the two of you for a brief moment.

“You two will definitely be seeing each other a lot, then,” Will laughs, and you yet again shove your shoulder against his, “Frankie’s a coffee addict, and you can’t keep a car running to save your life.”

He wasn’t wrong, and you can’t help but laugh along with him. And when Benny stumbles up to the group, you and Will are still giggling uncontrollably, made worse by Benny almost wiping out.

“Shut up, assholes,” he grumbles at you, straightening out before greeting everyone. “Boys, good to see you, welcome to the birthday bash!”

He grabs you by the arm, pulling you into his side and pressing a kiss to your head. You scrunch your face in mock disgust and roll your eyes, used in full at this point to Benny and his overly affectionate nature.

“You ready for cake, birthday girl?” He asks, spinning you around and catching you when the spin has a little too much force behind it.

“Absolutely birthday boy, lead the way.”

The two of you stumble in towards the house, and along the way Benny starts to yell: “Time for cake!”. People cheer, following into the back door while you grab the cake from the fridge. As per usual, you had one cake, specially decorated for you and Benny, and several other sheets of cupcakes for everyone else to share. Benny sticks some candles in the top of the cake, 24 for you and 26 for him, and leans in to light them. At once, everyone starts singing happy birthday. When you look up, you can’t help but latch your eyes onto Frankie, who you hadn’t noticed was right in front of you.

“Happy birthday to you!” they all finish, a loud cheer filling the living room. And, as tradition dictated, you and Benny each grabbed a handful of cake, shoving it in each other's faces. You’re laughing uncontrollably, and eventually everyone starts filing back out to the pool after grabbing their sweet treats. You turn to the kitchen, ready to wipe the frosting off your face, and run straight into a solid chest. Frankie catches you, hands wrapping firmly around your shoulders.

“Shit, sorry,” he slurs ever so slightly, and you realize he’s just as faded as you are right now, “Happy birthday. Didn’t say that earlier.”

“Thanks,” you blush, noticing his hands are still on your shoulders. He seems to notice at the same time, pulling them back to rest at his sides. His dark eyes remain fixed on you, a heavy gaze that leaves your head spinning.

“I, uh, I’m stoned,” he grins at you and you can’t help but return the smile, the two of you unconsciously making your way through the house, away from the crowd. You find yourselves in the living room, where a few people, including Will and Santi, sat scattered around. You half expected that you would go and join the two of them, but instead Frankie steers you towards the love seat, sinking down into it with a groan.

“This is the best couch I’ve ever sat on,” He looks up at you, an amused glint in his hazy eyes. Something in that look fuels your confidence enough that you sit down next to him, the furniture not allowing quite enough room for you both without being pressed together. If your head was less fuzzy, from the weed and the festivities and the very cute man sitting next to you, you probably would not have had the courage to lean into him as you begin conversing.

You quickly find that you and Frankie get along well. You share stories of your childhoods, discuss favorite foods, movies, any topic that pops into either of your heads. The rest of the party seems to fade away as you chat and chat, occasionally parting when someone approaches to say goodbye to you and Benny as the night grows to a close. Before long, there are 5 bodies left in the room; Will, sprawled back in the arm chair; Santi and Benny, playing a game of cribbage on the floor; you and Frankie on the love seat, him sprawled out and slouched back, you with your knees to your chest and feet tucked under his thigh.

“Earth to Frankie!” Santi calls from across the room, startling the two of you out of your enthralling conversation on coffee. “I asked if you wanted to play?”

Frankie blushes slightly, something that does not go unnoticed by you. You lock eyes with Benny, who has a sly grin plastered on his face. Will’s expression is much the same. You start to wonder how long they had been trying to get Frankie’s attention while you were talking.

“What are you two even talking about?” Benny teases, as if he can read your mind. You narrow your eyes at him without responding. Instead, you stand up and stretch, yawning as well.

“I don’t know about you boys, but it’s past my bedtime.” you change the subject, having realized it’s nearing 1 in the morning and you’re opening crew at the shop in 5 hours. You bid goodnight to them all, with the promise to see them soon, and head up to your room. Getting ready for bed in record time, you’re soon nestled under the covers, attempting to fall asleep. But something is stopping you from fully relaxing. After several minutes of tossing and turning, you finally drift off.

———————————————————————————

It feels like you’ve been asleep for maybe half an hour when your first alarm goes off. As usual, you snooze without thinking. Not long after, your “I really have to leave now” alarm is going off. You groan, exhausted and just the slightest bit hungover, giving yourself a second to be miserable before pushing back the covers to start your day.

It doesn’t take you long to get ready, and soon you’re off for the day. The 8 minute drive to work gives you just enough time to think about last night, and by the time you arrive your mind can barely focus on your opening tasks. All you can focus on is the man you met last night, Frankie. The two of you had clicked so effortlessly, an instant connection that you hadn’t felt with anyone in the past. And although he seemed a handful of years older than you, that didn’t stop the budding romantic feelings from taking root in your chest. Finally, you have the shop set up to your liking, a song playing softly in the background and tables organized to optimize space.

The shop promises to be open at 7, and although you don’t always make that it looks like today will be better than most. At 6:58 you’re unlocking the door and propping it open, letting the early morning sunlight shine across the hardwood floor. And soon, you’re able to lose yourself in the day. Alia, you’re cashier and partner in crime for the day, bustles in a few minutes late with an apologetic kiss to your cheek. Soon after, the pre-work rush begins and you don’t have a moment to think of last night as you work to make latte after latte. By the time the rush has passed you’re sweating and need to take a break.

“Alia, I’m taking a fifteen, just holler if someone comes in, will ya?”

She confirms with you, and you gather your bag from behind the register and head to the very back corner of the store. You love it back here, sitting in the corner of two benches, with enough table space to lay out your supplies. Your favorite part of the day, any day, is when you get to hide back here and write to your heart's content. It’s usually only as long as the lull between the breakfast and lunch rush, but you still try to lose yourself. It’s so far a success, until you feel a shadow slip over the table, blurring the words you had just been scribbling. You glance up, and you can’t quite believe your eyes.

Frankie is towering over you, a sly grin on his face as you startle slightly.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, and when you nod your head at him he slides into the chair across from you, smiling all the while. You can’t help the tug of your lips as you smile back. Frankie gestures towards your notebook.

“Do you write?” he questions, and you feel a slight flush rising on your cheeks.

“Yea, any chance I get.” You reply, and without thinking you’re sharing your latest story with him. You’re soon lost in discussion, only interrupted by Alia. She blinks for a second, looking between the two of you, before she turns to you with an apologetic smile.

“I’m so sorry, can you come and make a few drinks. They’re a little outside of my wheelhouse.”

“Oh of course, I’ll be right back,” you say to Frankie and rushes to the counter. Never in your life have you made a London fog and mocha faster, but after a few minutes you’re able to return to your spot. To your surprise and genuine enjoyment, Frankie is still there. He grins as you set a cup of black coffee in front of him.

“I didn’t know how you liked it,” you say, almost shy.

“Sure you did,” he laughs, holding the cup up towards you in a mock toast. “Black as can be, that’s how it’s meant to be.”

“Ok fair, black coffee is good, but sometimes the fru-fru stuff is the best.”

And so launches a fierce debate between you, while the air of levitivity remains. You get up every once in a while to make a drink, but mostly remain at the table, chatting with your new friend. Finally, Frankie looks at his watch and startles.

“Shit, lost track of time, my shift started 10 minutes ago!” You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling honored that he was late for work because he had been so engaged with you. You said your goodbyes as he rushed out of the shop, trying to sneakily leave a 20 in the tip jar. You waved for a beat too long, realizing it with a flutter in your stomach. A nervous excitement has filled you during your time together, and you aren’t quite sure what to make of it.

“So, you gonna tell me who that handsome man was?” Alia startles you as she slides up to your side. “Are you seeing him?”

“No! I just met him last night, he’s a friend of Will’s,” you explain to her, without giving away too much. Being the perceptive girl she is, you’re sure she’ll see through to the truth of how you’re feeling. However, she must be feeling merciful, as she doesn’t push you, leaving you to think it through yourself. It, of course being, your newfound feelings for Frankie.

——————————————————————-

It’s been a few days since you last saw Frankie. Picking up some extra shifts had left you with little free time, and the spare minutes you did have were reserved for working on your writing. A fresh idea had popped into your head midway through your shift Monday, and by Friday you had a very, very rough draft. You were sitting on the loveseat in comfy clothes, hair braided on each side and your ridiculously large “artsy glasses” (as Benny had dubbed them) perched atop your nose. You’re so focused on the keyboard at your fingers that you barely notice the knock at the door.

“I got it!” Benny bellows, rushing towards the door like a golden retriever. He yanks it open to reveal Santi, Will and Frankie standing on the steps. You still aren’t wholly paying attention, not until you hear Frankie’s deep chuckle coming from the doorway of the living room. Your head shoots up and you meet his eyes. You can’t help the grin on your face.

“Hi.” You say in simple greeting, quickly saving the document you had been working on and shoving your computer under the coffee table.

“Hey there,” Frankie responds, settling into the seat next to you. It isn’t until that moment that you realize the amount of skin shown off by your comfy outfit. He’s wearing shorts, and your bare legs press together on the tight couch. It sends a rush down your spine, and you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as the rest of the boys file in, a riot of laughter at some unheard joke.

“Sorry bud, hope you don’t mind,” Benny says to you as they all settle into their various spots. “We were gonna watch the fight at Will’s but his power went out.”

“No worries Ben, I’ll leave you guys to it.” You move to stand, but are surprised when a hand wraps around your wrist. You glance down at Frankie, who is now leveling you with some serious puppy dog eyes.

“Stay with us, we’re ordering food.” You almost think you can see a blush on his cheeks, and you acquiesce.

“Ok, if you insist,” you joke, “Just let me go get changed out of my pajamas for the first time today.”

You rush upstairs, throwing on some less revealing yet still comfortable clothes, before stopping in the mirror. You can’t help but check, see if you’re looking as cute as you want. Before you can second guess, you rush back downstairs as Benny starts hollering your name.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you yell back. You trounce back into the living room, hoping that you’re not imagining the glance Frankie chances at the sliver of skin between your sweatpants and t-shirt.

“Pepperoni and pineapple, coke to drink?” Benny confirms with you, as if you hadn’t had the same order for the past 20 years. You nod at him before settling back in next to Frankie. It takes a while for the food to get to the house, all the while you are trying to ignore every point your bodies come in contact with one another. It’s a futile effort, especially when he seems to be inching closer every few minutes. Once the food is delivered, and everyone else was distracted by that, Frankie finally has a moment alone with you.

“So, how’s your week been?” he asks you, arm slung across the back of the cushions, just barely dragging against your shoulder. You can’t help but lean into the touch.

“Pretty good, you?” you ask back.

“Pretty good, worked some extra shifts, had some amazing coffee,” he winks at you when he says that point, the blush that seemed ever present around him spreading across your cheeks, “How’s the writing going?”

Your face involuntarily lights up, always excited to share some of your ideas with someone with a bit more reading tendencies than Benny. Before you can start word-vomiting about your current piece, Santi appears out of thin air, motioning the two of you to the kitchen.

“Ben’s bulking, might want to get in there before it’s all gone.”

You both thank him and rush into the kitchen, grabbing a sufficient amount of food. You grin when Frankie bumps his hip against yours, not quite sure if it was on purpose or not. Whichever it was, it made you smile and think maybe it wasn’t just you with the ever growing feelings. You try not to dwell on it too much, instead following Frankie back to the living room and falling back into what you are quickly finding to be your assigned seat.

This time you’re sitting cross legged, facing him on the love seat while he leans back, his legs spread ever so slightly to hold the plate of pizza on his lap. You’re all chatting, Benny and Will trying to start a fight with Santi over the best fighter in the ring tonight. You honestly couldn’t care less, and it seems Frankie is the same. Soon, the talking turns to cheering at the TV once the fight starts. You almost jump when Frankie leans in close, whispering in your ear.

“I had fun the other night,” he starts, gesturing with his head towards the back yard. “I brought my own stash, wanna share with me?”

You beam at him, and without explaining to the others, the two of you sneak out the sliding glass door to the back yard. With some fiddling you have the string lights illuminated, bathing the deck in a soft glow while Frankie preps a bowl for the two of you. He’s sitting on the outdoor couch, and you hesitate for a second, debating between sitting next to him or across on the bench. Before you can make a decision Frankie pats the seat next to him with one hand, not even looking up from what he’s doing.

“I figured I owed you for letting me smoke all of your weed the other day.” You laugh slightly and settle in next to him, using the slight bite in the air to stick close to his side.

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna ask, but thank you.”

He grins at you, offering the bowl to you for the first puff. You take it from his hand, your fingers brushing together. Without thinking you lean towards him and allow him to light it for you, his hands cupping the lighter to shield the flame. It causes you to be in very close proximity, and the flickering light illuminates his face in a way that you find irresistible. You breathe in deeply, relishing in the sweet burn before releasing the smoke in a curl around your heads. You pass the bowl back and forth, lighting for each other as an excuse to stay close.

“Fuck, I don’t know if I can do anymore,” Frankie coughs, his eyes hooded. You giggle, agreeing with him. And yet, neither of you can move, remaining on the couch even as the air gets chillier and chillier. Eventually, you can’t help the shiver that runs through you. You go to suggest moving inside, but before you can the other boys are trampling out the back door.

“See I told you!” Benny is shouting at the other two, “I told you, KO’d in the third round!”

Santi wordlessly holds his hand out for Frankie’s pipe, lighting it and taking a deep drag. Frankie is suddenly lost in the conversation with the boys, but before you can get up to find something warm, he’s shrugging his flannel off and handing it to you, smiling warmly.

“Oh, uh, thank you,” you’re suddenly nervous around him again as you pull his shirt around your shoulders and slip your arms down the sleeves. The cuffs go long past your hands and the spicy smell of him fills your weed-addled brain. You almost feel lightheaded, and take a moment to curl up, leaning your head against the back of the couch. This movement just happens to bring you closer to Frankie, something that you don’t think is unnoticed by him.

“You good?” he asks you, noticing your sudden quiet. You grin lazily at him, nodding your head and curling up tighter trying to get comfortable. He smiles and throws his arm around you. Benny and Santi are fake boxing, with Benny being the obvious winner, so you don’t have to worry about them commenting on your position. Will is not so easily distracted, and before you can move he’s grinning at you, your cheeks burning hot. You mouth some choice words at him, along the lines of “don’t you say anything” and he shakes his head, turning away. Even with the lasting edge of anxiety you are feeling, you can’t bring yourself to move away from the man next to you. He’s just so ...warm, comfy, and cute.

The last word startles you a bit, even just coming from your thoughts. You hadn’t really put much thought to it, the idea of being more than friends with this man you just recently met. Now, sitting here pressed against his side, his flannel wrapped around you and overwhelming your senses, it’s all you can think about.

————————————————————————-

It isn’t long until the boys start tapping out, one at a time excusing themselves to bed until it’s just you and Frankie left. You try not to think too much of it, but then he turns towards you, a sly smile on his face.

“Having a good time?” you ask him, trying to break the tension that is slowly building between the two of you.

“Oh yea, lots of fun,” he’s teasing, and you both know it. But some little part of you wants, needs the validation that what you think is happening really is.

“Frankie,” you start, shifting ever so slightly closer to his firm, warm body, “I think I want to kiss you. Would that be ok?”

His smile blossoms, a warm, genuine thing that lights up your insides. He leans closer, bumping your noses together before fitting his lips to yours. You both make a noise, your soft moan covered by his deep one, and you reach your fingers up to tangle in his short hair. His hand grasps your waist, his other cradling your cheek in a tender touch that has your mind reeling. You sit there for a while, breathing each other in before parting. You’re just ever so slightly out of breath when you peel your eyes open to meet his gaze.

“Do you wanna go out tomorrow?” he asks you, his eyes heavy with the need for sleep but unable to pull himself away from you. “Just the two of us, a date?”

“Absolutely, I want to do that, yes,” you stumble on the words in their haste to escape you. He pulls your mouth back to his, another soft kiss that leaves you wanting more, but he pulls back.

“If I’m gonna make it home alive I gotta leave soon, sweetheart,” he grumbles, almost as if he’s mad at himself, “I’m falling asleep despite the amazing company.”

You roll your eyes at him and stand up, reaching down to pull him up with you. He stumbles a little with the force of your pull and finds your cheeks with his hands, pressing one more searing kiss to your lips.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow, 6 o’clock, sound good?” he whispers against your lips. You nod, biting at your cheek to keep from grinning like a lunatic. You walk him to the front door, trying to keep from alerting Benny how late Frankie had stayed. With a few more kisses, he’s finally to his truck in the driveway, turning around to wave goodbye. You return it with a soft smile, watching as he backs out before heading back into the house.

You take your time getting ready for bed, doing every step of your routine thoroughly to savor the feelings fluttering in your chest. Eventually, you can barely keep your eyes open. The second your head hits the pillow, you’re out like a light.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie #frankie morales #pedro pascal #frankie morales x you #writing #my writing #pedro pascal fan fiction #frankie morales fanfiction

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alltheirdamn · 21 hours

Text

Couch Chronicles | One Shot

Frankie Morales x f!reader x Benny Miller

Summary: When you accidentally tell your boyfriend, Frankie, that you think his best friend is cute... he makes a plan. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: strictly smut, established relationship, threesome, mmf dynamic, heavy kissing, a stupid amount of neck kissing, nipple play, oral (f! and m! receiving), fingering, choking, rough sex, cum eating, deepthroat, unprotected piv sex, multiple creampies, degrading kink (very mild), praise kink, pet names (pretty girl, baby, babygirl), language, men whimpering (i know) A/N: I want two boyfriends, and I want the boyfriends to be boyfriends... yeah, you guys know how it goes. idk I had an idea, tossed some words together, and here we are. not my finest work and probably a lil shitty in terms of technicality, but I was craving a good trip to Paris.

Masterlist | Ko-fi

You were lying in bed with Frankie one night, scrolling through social media, when you came across a new post from Benny. It was from a recent fishing trip down to the lake, and he was shirtless, holding a large trout in his hand. You tapped on the screen twice, liking the photo and spending an extra few seconds staring at his tall frame and shaggy blonde hair doused in sunlight.

“You know he is pretty cute,” you said aloud, showing Frankie the photo.

Frankie and Benny were close, best friends even. You had spent time with him here and there over the years at barbecues and small group settings. He was always friendly and welcomed you into the group with open arms. You and Frankie had been dating for a while now, and you were well aware of his past with the group of men and the missions they had gone on. But now he was home for good, making a living for himself and staying clean.

“Do you ever think about fucking him?” Frankie asked casually, glancing from the screen to your face.

“Frankie, oh my God!” You gasped. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You gaped at him, shutting off your phone and placing it on the nightstand.

“Hey, I wasn’t asking to start an argument,” he said coolly. “It was a genuine question.”

You shrunk into the pillows, turning to face him. He nestled against his own pillow, holding your gaze and giving you a small grin. His hair had grown shaggy at the ends, sticking up behind his ears and curling at the base of his neck. You lifted a hand to scratch at the patchy beard covering his jaw, biting your lip as you navigated a response in your head.

“No, I haven’t thought about it,” you exhaled. “Okay, maybe I have once or twice. Fuck—I don’t know. Not in a fuck him and leave you type of way.”

“You know I wouldn’t be mad if you did,” Frankie replied. “Fuck him, I mean.”

“What?” You balked, eyes growing wide.

He only shrugged his shoulders, shifting close to you in the bed.

“He’s my best friend. I’d trust him with you.”

“You’re not seriously telling me right now you want me to sleep with Benny.”

“I’m not telling you to do it,” Frankie argued. “Just saying, if you ever want to explore it, tell me. I’m sure he’s thought about it, too.”

Your face burned bright red at the thought of Benny fantasizing about you. There was no way. Frankie was messing with you.

“None of this bothers you?” You questioned.

Frankie laughed softly, hooking an arm around your leg and guiding it over his hip. You shuffled your body closer until you were both a breath apart.

“Fuck no, baby,” he smirked, his pupils growing bigger. “Getting to see one of best friends fuck you would probably only turn me on more.”

You felt him growing harder against you, and you reached a hand down to palm his cock through his pajama bottoms. Frankie let out a soft whine, bucking his hips into your hand.

“Would you just sit back and watch?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“I’d do whatever you want.”

Your fingers danced up his pants, teasing his waistband. You gave him a mischievous grin as you trailed lower until your hand wrapped around his cock. He groaned at your touch, his eyes rolling back.

“What if I want both of you?” You asked, pumping him slowly. “At the same time?”

Something carnal flashed across his features, and he crawled on top of you, running his mouth up your neck. You arched into him, using both hands to pull down his pants. Frankie did the same to you, tugging your sleep shorts down your legs and exploring the wetness collecting between your inner thighs.

“Pretty girl wants to get tag-teamed?” He teased. “Yeah, I can make that happen.”

You gasped at his words and let him fuck you mercilessly the rest of the night.

You had zero clue what Frankie had told Benny, but later that week, you were situated on the couch between their warm bodies, watching some action movie. Benny kept a respectable distance while Frankie’s hand remained on your thigh, drawing slow circles over your bare skin. You were wearing one of his T-shirts and a pair of soft sleep shorts, your nerves buzzing through your body.

You barely had the capacity to pay attention to the movie, your eyes shifting between both of the men sitting on either side of you. Frankie leaned over after a while, his breath hot against your neck.

“You call the shots, pretty girl. Whatever you wanna do, it’s your choice,” he muttered into your ear.

You let out a small gasp, glancing over at Benny. He was sitting relaxed against the couch; his legs spread open and muscular arms crossed over his chest. Your eyes trailed up his thick neck, studying his tensed jaw covered in days-old stubble and blue eyes that remained focused on the screen. You weren’t the shy type, but initiating this type of situation was way out of your comfort zone.

“Benny?” You whispered.

His gaze slid to you, his pupils already dilated.

“Yeah?” He asked, his voice deep as he said your name.

You sucked in a breath, mustering the courage to take it to the next step.

“Kiss me,” you demanded, though it sounded a bit sheepish.

He flicked his gaze to Frankie, then back to you. Reaching a hand up to tangle in your hair, he reeled you in for a hungry kiss. You whimpered at the feel of his mouth against yours, his approach far rougher than what you were used to with Frankie. His tongue intertwined with yours as he coaxed your mouth open wider, his other hand sliding up your thigh.

Frankie’s mouth connected with the other side of your neck, sucking marks into your flushed skin as you let out another helpless whine.

“Fuck,” Benny panted, guiding your head toward Frankie.

Frankie was quick to capture your mouth, his tongue tracing the saliva still lingering on your lips. You gasped as Benny’s mouth trailed up your neck, drawing his tongue over the erratic pulse under your jaw.

“This what you want, baby?” Frankie asked before sinking his teeth into the plush skin of your bottom lip.

You gave him an eager nod of your head, and he brought his hand up to tilt your head, both of their mouths now hot and wet against either side of your throat. The throbbing between your thighs grew painful, and you squirmed against their roaming hands; Benny’s hand crawled up to cup your breast, Frankie’s hand teasing your aching clit over your shorts.

“Jesus Christ,” you moaned, letting your head fall back against the couch.

“Call the shots, pretty girl,” Frankie ordered.

You bucked your hips against his hand, searching for any form of friction to alleviate the pressure building inside your core. Benny tugged at the t-shirt covering your torso, his breath going ragged as he discovered you bare beneath the soft cotton.

His head dipped down to capture your pebbled nipple between his teeth, grinding them against your skin until you cried out from the pleasure mixing with pain. Oh, Benny was rough, and it only made you ache for more of his touch.

You glanced down at the same time his gaze lifted to yours, a grin tugging at his lips as he realized how much you liked it. Frankie, meanwhile, was working at sipping his fingers between your wet folds, sinking two fingers knuckle deep.

“Shit,” you hissed through clenched teeth. Frankie’s fingers worked fast inside you; he knew what to do to make you completely fall apart.

But now you had another man working at you in tandem, Benny’s mouth still ravaging your breast. Your fingers tangled into his hair, your nails raking over his scalp. He let out a groan of approval, rewarding you with another bite of his teeth around your nipple.

“Feels…so fucking good…” You whispered to both men.

Frankie angled his hand so that he could push his fingers deeper, curling them against the spongy spot inside you. Searing heat coursed through your veins with each movement of his fingers, your breath coming out short and pained.

A dangerous idea floated through the fog inside your brain, and you wondered how far you could push it at the expense of your wanton needs. Tugging Benny’s hair, he released your nipple with a gentle pop and moved his lips back to yours. You sucked his bottom lip in between your teeth before diving your tongue into his mouth. Benny let out a shallow exhale, letting you steer the kiss in whatever direction you wanted.

“Benny,” you whined. “I want your tongue inside me.”

He cursed under his breath and looked over at Frankie, who was still working you closer to the edge. Frankie’s eyes lifted to meet yours, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. He pulled his fingers from you, lifting them to your mouth.

“Clean them, pretty girl,” he ordered.

You wrapped your mouth around his thick fingers, the salty, sweet taste of your arousal coating your tongue. You pulled your head back and looked at Benny with a lifted brow.

“Wanna taste?” You asked with a coy smile.

You expected him to pull you in for a kiss, to taste it from your mouth, but your breath stalled as you watched him grip Frankie’s wrist and guide his fingers into his mouth. Your jaw dropped open as Benny sucked on Frankie’s fingers with fervency, his eyes locked on your boyfriend. This was new. Frankie grunted as Benny dragged his tongue over the pads of his fingers, finally releasing them and settling back into the couch.

“Come here, baby,” Frankie said, shuffling his body back against one side of the couch.

He maneuvered you into his lap, your back pressed against his chest. Through heavy lids, you watched Benny tear away his shirt and put his defined abs on display. You and Frankie had been to a few of his boxing matches, and you were more than familiar with the toned figure he hid under his basic t-shirts. Your eyes roamed down his torso, studying the way his chest hair flourished between his sternum and trailed down his abdomen. You involuntarily wet your lips at the sight, wanting to take your tongue and trace every flexed muscle on his body.

“Spread your legs for me, babygirl,” Benny instructed. Hearing him call you babygirl had your mind reeling.

You let your legs fall open and watched as Benny shuffled back to situate himself between your thighs. Frankie’s hands groped and squeezed your breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples until you gasped at the stinging pain. You tilted your head back, arching upward to meet his lips. Frankie responded with a sloppy kiss, his nose brushing over yours at the same time Benny’s tongue flicked over your aching clit.

“Fuck!” You cried, the word muffled in Frankie’s mouth.

Frankie let out a low chuckle and intertwined his fingers through the tendrils of your hair, forcing you to look down at Benny.

“Watch him while he tongue fucks you, baby,” Frankie commanded.

Your breath hitched, and Benny took that as his opportunity to dive his tongue deep inside you. Sparks of pleasure erupted behind your eyes, and it took all your strength to keep your focus on him as he worked his tongue deeper. His eyes shot up to yours, the pale blue of his irises swallowed by his pupils.

“Do you like that pretty girl?” Frankie crooned in your ear. “You enjoy having us both giving you all this attention?”

“Yes,” you panted, your chest rising and falling steadily as warmth spread through your stomach.

“Tell Benny how much you like it.”

Your eyes rolled back as Benny traced over your wet folds with his tongue, the heat of his mouth against your cunt sending you into a spiral.

“I—.” You choked on your words as Benny’s lips suctioned around your clit, his tongue sending sharp rhythmic flicks across the aching bundle of nerves.

“Tell him,” Frankie growled, his hand wrapping around your throat.

“Your mouth feels so fucking good, Benny,” you gasped. “Please don’t stop… Please. Keep doing that, I’m so fucking close.”

Your words were melding together, a jumble of incoherent mumbling and humiliating whimpers. Frankie’s hand squeezed your throat tighter, restricting your breathing as Benny coaxed your orgasm closer to the surface. With Frankie’s hand around your neck and Benny’s tongue assailing your cunt, the overstimulation began to spread through your veins.

“I know you’re close, pretty girl,” Frankie whispered in your ear. “I can feel how tense you are. Let it go, baby. Cum for us.”

His words sent the heavens crashing down around you, and your body seized upwards as your orgasm ignited a fire that raged under your skin. Benny lapped at the arousal pooling out of you, humming in satisfaction as a strangled cry left your lips.

“Doesn’t my girl taste good, Benny?” Frankie murmured, releasing his grip on your throat.

“Fucking perfect,” Benny grinned.

You leaned your head back against Frankie’s chest, seeing his big brown eyes sparkle with lust.

“Frankie, baby,” you whispered. “Why don’t you have a taste, too?”

Frankie started to shift you off his lap, but you pressed yourself further into his chest, leaving him looking at you confused. You glanced down at Benny and gave a subtle lift of your chin as if to silently coax him from between your thighs. He followed your lead, crawling up your body until he hovered over you and leaned in close. He braced himself against the couch with one arm while snaking the other around Frankie’s neck. You careened your neck to watch as their mouth collided, Frankie’s aquiline nose smashing against Benny’s cheek for a frenzied kiss. Frankie submitted to Benny’s control, whimpering as their tongues danced together. Your jaw went slack as you watched your boyfriend passionately kiss his best friend; oh, you fucking loved this.

Benny tore away from Frankie’s lips, bending down to trail his lips over your jaw and neck.

“I think your man wants some attention, babygirl,” he muttered against your warm skin.

“I think so, too,” you agreed, breathless.

Both men maneuvered off the couch, taking their time to undress, while you sat back and admired both of their naked bodies. Frankie was soft in all the right areas, his dark chest hair spread across his broad torso and trailing down over the soft pudge of his stomach. His cock hung heavy between his thighs, already glistening with precum as it leaked from the tip. Your eyes shifted over to Benny, your eyes growing wide at the length of his hardened cock. While Frankie’s cock was sizable in girth, Benny made up for it with length, and the thought of his cock deep inside you only spurred you closer to another orgasm. You needed one of them to fuck you, or else you’d go crazy.

“Baby,” you whined, shuffling your body up on the couch.

Frankie gave you a smirk, the creases in the corner of his eyes appearing as he looked down on you. You snaked a hand down your navel, your fingers slipping between the wet folds as you sought out some sort of relief from the throbbing need inside you.

Benny moved around the side of the couch, his strong hands hooking under your shoulders and dragging you back until your head hung over the arm of the couch. Upside down, you stared up at his cock as it hovered over your face. You wet your lips at the sight of it, waiting for him to inch closer. Gliding a hand over your strained neck, his fingers squeezed the right above the base of it.

“I wanna feel my cock right here, babygirl,” Benny said. “You gonna show me you can take it?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

You dropped your jaw open, your tongue darting out as you waited for him to step forward. Frankie’s body weight dropped on the couch above you, his hands lifting your legs onto his shoulder. As your calves settled onto his broad shoulders, Frankie lined himself up with your entrance. In one quick thrust, Frankie bottomed out, and you let out a raspy moan. Before you had a chance to make another sound, Benny slid his cock into your mouth, your tongue dragging against the veins along the length. You sputtered around him as he drove deeper down your throat, his fingers still massaging your neck with each shallow thrust.

Frankie’s thrusts grew harder, and your muffled cries were silenced as Benny continued snapping his hips forward into your mouth.

“Ain’t she so pretty like this?” Frankie grunted through each drive of his cock.

“So fucking pretty,” Benny huffed. You swallowed around him, forcing him to choke on his words. “She’s taking our cocks so well. Her mouth feels so fucking good.”

You keened at their words, arousal blooming deep within your stomach as they spoke. They were using your body any way they wanted, and you were desperate for their praise.

“You enjoy getting used like this, baby?” Frankie asked, his voice low and strained.

You couldn’t respond as Benny plunged his cock further down your throat, your jaw straining to take his length deeper. You could feel the tears cascading down your temples, your breath forced out of your nose as you struggled under his hold.

“Aw, pretty girl can’t talk?” Frankie taunted.

Frankie lifted your ass off the couch, his warm hands squeezing the supple skin as you began assaulting you with unforgiving thrusts. Your cunt clenched around his cock, sucking him in deeper until the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix. You wailed a helpless cry, saliva dripping over Benny’s cock and down your cheeks.

Your eyes blurred as your climax grew into an inferno inside your stomach. Each thrust on either side of your body plummeted your orgasm closer and closer to the surface, your heartbeat thrumming erratically in your ears. Benny hunched over your body, his hands massaging your breasts, his fingers pinching around your nipples. You arched off the couch, and Frankie kept his grip tight on your hips as he continued railing into you.

“Gonna be a good girl and cum for us, baby?” Frankie crooned.

“Mmmph.”

You couldn’t speak. You could barely make a coherent noise as your orgasm ignited inside of you, leaving you paralyzed—suspended between the bodies of two men that continued to wreck you completely as you came undone.

“Such a good fucking girl,” Frankie praised.

“Think she deserves a reward?” Benny questioned, drawing his cock from your mouth.

You heaved in lung-fulls of air, drool still dripping down your face. Benny crouched behind you, his hand fisting your hair to pull your face forward toward Frankie. Frankie’s dark eyes met yours, and he pounded deeper into you, your cries turning into humiliating whimpers.

“You want Frankie to cum inside you, babygirl?” Benny whispered, his tongue tracing along the shell of your ear.

“Y—yes,” you wailed brokenly. “Please, Frankie. Need your cum.”

Frankie’s face scrunched up with concentration as he changed the tempo of his thrusts; they were slower and more powerful. Benny’s grip on your hair remained firm, not allowing you to look anywhere but at Frankie. His tousled dark curls stuck to his forehead with sweat, his jaw clenched as he forcibly thrust into you in one final time. With a carnal groan, Frankie emptied himself inside you, slumping onto your chest with labored breaths.

“Jesus Christ,” Frankie groaned.

Benny unwound his fingers from the tendrils of your hair, peppering your cheek and neck with kisses. Frankie lifted his head to look at Benny, and you could faintly see a smirk teasing the corner of his hips.

“I think she can take a bit more. What do you say, Benny?” Frankie grinned.

“I wanna know how good that pussy feels. You gonna let me fill you up, too?” Benny asked, his teeth grazing your neck.

“God, yes,” you exhaled.

Frankie climbed off your body and maneuvered you onto all fours. Your legs wobbled against the cushions, Frankie’s cum slowly leaking from your sore cunt. Benny made his way around the couch, climbing behind your shaking body. Frankie took his spot in front of you, his large hands cupping your face and wiping away the excess saliva that still coated your cheeks and nose.

“Look at the mess you made, pretty girl,” Frankie mumbled, his eyes dancing over you ravenously.

He leaned in to kiss you, drawing his tongue over your wet lips. You moaned into his open mouth, your body tensing up with anticipation as Benny coated the head of his cock with the wetness leaking from your entrance.

“Eyes on me, baby,” Frankie ordered, pulling away from your mouth. “I wanna watch you while Benny ruins that perfect pussy.”

That was all Benny needed to hear before he broke you up, the stretch of your cunt around his cock blindingly painful for the first few seconds. Your mouth fell open as his hips pressed against your ass, every glorious inch of him stretching you wide open. A choked gasp fell from your lips as Frankie held your focus, his brown eyes watching with fervid attention.

“Benny,” Frankie said, never breaking away from your eyes. “Fuck her hard.”

Benny replied with a forceful snap of his hips that sent your body colliding with the couch. You screamed out at the savage pace he set, each connection of his hips against yours sending you into a frenzy of whimpers and sobs.

“So fucking tight and perfect,” Benny huffed between each drive of his cock. “Can’t believe you’ve been keeping her to yourself.”

“She’s all mine, Benny,” Frankie reminded him. “But I think she enjoys being shared.”

You nodded vigorously, flames licking up your nerves as Benny steered you closer to another orgasm. Your nails dug into the cushions, half-moon indentations left in their wake.

“I want you both,” you panted. “Like this.”

“Yeah, babygirl?” Benny exhaled, bending his body over yours. His mouth kissed up your spine

Frankie dragged you in for a long kiss, a moan exhaling from his mouth into yours. You were drunk on their touch, each hand roaming your body, every kiss, every lust-filled word. You couldn’t get enough.

“Cum inside me, Benny,” you pleaded.

Benny’s arm braced around your torso, pulling you up until your back was flush with his chest. Frankie climbed over the arm of the sofa, his hands sweeping back the hair from your face. Benny brought his free hand up to Frankie, tugging at his curls until he shuffled closer. Frankie tilted his chin up and met Benny’s lips, their kisses slow and impassioned. Both of their body’s pressed harder against yours, Benny’s cock sliding in and out of you slowly, his thrusts shallow and short. You licked a path up Frankie’s neck, startling a gasp from him as Benny deepened their kiss.

The muscles in Benny’s arms flexed around your chest, his hips snapping hard one last time before his release was painting your insides. You were so fucking full of them both, your body coursing with adrenaline and pleasure. Benny slipped out of you, breaking away from Frankie’s lips and falling back against the couch.

“Come here, babygirl,” Benny urged, outstretching his arms.

You glanced at Frankie for permission—which was comical as the mixture of their cum leaked down your inner thighs. Frankie gave you a soft smile, peking your lips before guiding you down onto the couch.

Benny wound his arms around your trembling body, pressing a light kiss on the crown of your head, while Frankie settled against your body on the other side. You nestled into the warmth of their bodies, your eyes drifting shut from exhaustion.

“This was nice,” you hummed, giggling softly.

“You wanna do it again?” Frankie chuckled, kissing your shoulder.

“Maybe not right now,” you groaned.

The soreness between your legs throbbed violently, and every muscle in your body tense and stiffened. You stretched out between them, feeling both men’s heartbeats pounding against your body.

“I love you, baby,” Frankie muttered into your skin.

“I love you, too,” you exhaled.

Lifting your chin to look at Benny, you watched him eye Frankie knowingly. You could see the emotions swimming in his blue eyes, his lips parted and swollen.

“You love him, too,” you commented.

“Yeah, maybe I do,” Benny said absentmindedly.

Benny’s gaze slid down to you, and you saw it in his eyes. The passion between them, the cohesiveness of their movements with you; it was all right there. You always thought Benny loved Frankie like a brother, but maybe there was something more. You weren’t jealous; you were far from it. You wanted them both, maybe in different ways, but still… you wanted them.

“Would you do this again?” You asked, partially to both of them.

“Absolutely,” Frankie said, at the same time Benny said, “In a heartbeat.”

“Stay the night with us, Benny,” you offered.

“Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else,” Benny sighed.

#frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #ben miller #benny miller #triple frontier #frankie morales x f!reader #benny miller x frankie morales #frankie x f!reader x benny #frankie morales x f!reader x benny miller #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #triple frontier smut #frankie catfish morales smut #mmf dynamic #we love when men whimper

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wannab-urs · 1 year

Text

Burn Slowly/I Love You | Chapter 1

Warnings/Content/Summary: As always I live in a fantasy world where no one gets pregnant or gets STDs and no one uses a condom. This is fiction. Wear a fucking condom. Sex while intoxicated but like it’s two maybe three beers y’all they aren’t drunk. Alternating POV kind of? Reader has burn scars on her left arm, wrapping over her shoulder and a bit onto her chest. No other physical descriptors. Remember that Frankie is strong as hell so it doesn’t matter if you’re petite or amazonian, this man can toss you around all he wants to. Fuck first feelings later type beat. Eventual descriptions of PTSD, trauma, minor character death, panic attacks, flashbacks, etc.

Word Count - 2.2k

Your Chest is Heavy

You’re sitting at the worn oak counter of a dive bar just a few blocks from your apartment with a cheap beer and a copy of The Secret History. Reading at the bar is a good way to scare off most men who would normally approach you. The rest usually fuck off when you don’t even look up from the book, muttering “not interested” in their direction. It’s really hard to focus on this book, though. The plot is a little meandering, for one, but there’s also a lot of people here tonight making it loud.

A sudden burst of laughter draws your attention. A group of guys stand around a hightop table on the far side of the room. At first glance, none are particularly appealing to you. Rowdy, obscenely muscular, clean shaven, close cropped hair. Not your type at all. You’re just about to go back to your book when one of the guys catches your eye. He doesn’t look quite like the others. Unruly dark curls stick out of a ballcap, a scruffy beard clings to his cheeks. He’s got broad shoulders and big arms like the others, but his face is softer around the edges. His eyes are still caught in the crinkles of his laughter when he meets your stare. Shit you’re staring.

You quickly look back down at your book, curling in on yourself, hoping he doesn’t come over. You’ve basically used universal bar sign language for come talk to me and that is not what you want. Even if he’s really cute.

“Dude, she was practically eating you with her eyes. Go over there!” Benny playfully nudges Frankie on the shoulder.

“You haven’t had any action in ages, Catfish. Go,” Pope teases.

Frankie scrubs a hand over his neck. “I don’t know. She was probably looking at you, Benny.”

“She was definitely looking at you, Fish,” Will seems genuine, tone softer and less like he’s setting Frankie up to fail.

Frankie sighs, lifting his cap and running a hand through his curls before stuffing it back on his head. “Fine. I’ll go talk to her.” The boys cheer like his love life is a fucking football game and he just scored a touchdown.

Frankie slips into a bar stool beside you. “Uh… hi,” he says sheepishly. He feels like an idiot for doing this.

“Not interested,” you mutter, barely even looking up from your book. Frankie’s face grows hot with shame. The boys will never let this go. Not a shot in hell. He sits there for a second, caught between facing your wrath if he doesn’t leave and facing the humiliation if he does. But just as he makes the decision to go, you look up at him. “Wait! I’m sorry. Habit.”

Frankie cocks an eyebrow, but settles back into his seat. “I’m Frankie. Can I buy you a beer?”

“Yeah, Frankie. I’d like that.”

It wouldn’t have been right to send the man away without at least talking to him. That’s how you justify it to yourself. It certainly didn’t hurt that he was absolutely gorgeous up close. In that first quick glance you’d caught the curve of his aquiline nose, the pout of his plump lips, and the blush creeping over his golden cheeks. That was enough to warrant at least a conversation.

And fuck it was a good conversation. He asked about your book, which led to a rant about all the reasons you didn’t like it and all the reasons you were still reading it anyway, his eyes wrinkling at the corners as he grinned at you. “What?”

“It’s cute when you ramble,” he’d said, scratching the back of his neck.

You talked about your job at the library and he told you he’s an ambulance driver. He jerked a thumb toward the guys still nursing their beers behind him, “Firefighters. Buncha pendejos,” he’d said a little too loudly, winking at you.

You had fully intended on letting him down gently. You didn’t come here to find someone to go home with, you came here to have a beer. And yet you had asked him if he wanted to head out of the bar. And now you’re sitting in his truck, rolling down the highway.

“Can you turn the AC on?” You’re sweating through your long sleeve black shirt from the heat and your own nervousness.

“Uh… It’s broken. I’m sorry,” Frankie kind of winces, like it physically hurts him to admit. “Not far from the house though.”

“It’s fine! Just a little warm,” you play with the sleeve of your shirt and take a deep breath. It’s fine. It’s just a little heat. You’ll be okay. Breathe. “Actually, can I roll the window down?”

Frankie chuckles and hits the button to roll all the windows in the truck down. Your heart rate evens out as the night air hits your face.

The truck rolls to a stop in front of a small white house. You pick at your fingers, seriously questioning if you made the right choice. He seems so sweet. You feel… safe with him. But-

“Cariño? We’re here,” Frankie speaks low, like he’s worried you’ll spook and take off. He slowly reaches over the console and takes your hand, stopping your fidgeting. He rubs a soothing thumb over the back of your hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah!” you say too quickly, too loudly in the stillness of the truck cab. “It’s just, uh… It’s been a while. I’m nervous.” Frankie pulls your hand up to his lips and kisses it before laying it gently back down on the console.

“It’s been a while for me too. I’ll take care of you, though. Promise.” He winks at you and it’s so dorky and cute that it calms you down a little.

Frankie barely gets you through the door before he gently presses you into the wall and his soft, plush lips find yours. You melt into the kiss, bringing your hands up to cradle his face. You knock his trucker hat to the floor and bury your hands in his hair, deepening the kiss with a swipe of your tongue. He tastes like cheap beer and his beard scrapes against the soft skin of your face. He smells like citrus and sandalwood. Your senses are gently overpowered by him, a soft wash of Frankie covering you and settling what remains of your nerves.

Every fear you had comes rushing back as he slips his fingertips under the hem of your shirt. You freeze before grabbing his wrist and placing a palm on his chest, pushing him away gently. “Shirt stays on and hands stay outside of it, okay? I’m sorry…” Your body tenses in anticipation of the rejection you know is coming. He’ll kick you out. Or disregard your wishes.

Frankie’s hands find your cheeks, drawing your face up to look at him. “Hey, it’s okay. Thank you for telling me.” He kisses you gently, reassuringly. It hits you again that you trust this stranger you just met in a bar. You deepen the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He hitches his hands under your thighs and pulls them up around his waist, settling you against his very prominent arousal. You roll yourself against him and he groans into your mouth. His hands wrap tightly around your body and he carries you down the hallway.

He lays you gently on the bed and immediately goes for the button of your jeans, making sure to stay clear of your shirt. He tosses your jeans and underwear on the floor and drops to his knees beside the bed.

“Oh, Frankie, you don’t have to-” your sentence is cut off by the low moan erupting from your throat as Frankie pulls your legs over his broad shoulders and buries his face in your cunt. His hooked nose grinds against your clit as he licks into you. Your hands find purchase in his curls and you roll your hips into him, grinding on his face. Frankie eats it up… literally. He groans into your pussy and you feel it reverberate through your entire body. Your head is thrown back in absolute ecstasy as he sucks your bud into his mouth, lapping at it rhythmically. You clench around nothing, pleasure curling up in your core. “Please, fuck, don’t stop. So close,” you cry out. Your voice is desperate, wrecked, and your hips are thrusting involuntarily against his face.

You come with a near pained shout, hands tightening in Frankie’s hair and pulling him into you even harder as you grind on his nose. Frankie licks a trail from your entrance up to your mound, then presses kisses all the way up your clothed stomach and chest. He nips at your jaw as he unbuttons his pants and clumsily shoves them off with one hand, like he can’t bear to take his mouth away from you.

“Taste so fucking sweet, hermosa,” he rumbles in your ear. “Could eat you out all night, if you’d let me.”

You think you would let him, if you couldn’t feel his hardness pressed against your thigh. “Another time, Frankie.” You push your thigh against him. “Fuck me, please.”

Frankie doesn’t need to be told twice. He stands up and pulls you further to the edge of the bed. He looks down at you, unconsciously licking his lips. “Fucking gorgeous…” he says under his breath. You could say the same about him. Half his curls are stuck to his forehead with sweat and half are standing wild from your fingers raking through them. His big brown eyes are wide, almost in awe. His upper half is wrapped in a tight white t-shirt that accentuates his broad shoulders and strong chest.

He grips his thick, uncut cock in his fist and lines it up with your entrance before grabbing your hips. He pulls your hips into him, splitting you wide open without moving his hips an inch. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt so full in your fucking life. Your hands fly to his muscular forearms, hanging on for dear life as he sheathes himself inside your tight heat. “Holy fuck, Frankie.”

“I know, baby, I know,” Frankie whispers as he bends to cover your body with his. He drags his cock out a couple of inches and rolls his hips in a fluid motion, sinking back into you and grinding against your clit on every stroke. Moans spill from your lips unchecked. You don’t care if you sound sexy or if the words you’re babbling make any sense because he feels so fucking good.

Frankie sits up and wedges his knees under your thighs, kneeling on the edge of the bed. He grips your hips in his strong hands and easily pulls you into him, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. Your arms fly above your head, grasping onto the sheets. Your shirt rides up a little with the motion and you almost panic, but Frankie tangles his fingers into the fabric and holds the hem tight against your torso. Safe. You trust him.

Frankie grips you so hard you know you’ll bruise and slams his hips into yours, driving you closer and closer to coming. “You feel… so good, cariño. So. Fucking. Tight,” Frankie bites out between thrusts. You babble incoherently, the head of his cock is slamming into your cervix and it’s making you feel a little fuzzy around the edges. Nothing matters except Frankie’s cock buried inside you and the coil of pleasure building in your gut. He’s fucking you like a rag doll, now. Your body has gone boneless with the intensity of him inside you.

Your orgasm rips through you like a flame, burning you up from the inside out. You scream his name as your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body goes taut with pleasure. Frankie steadily, brutally, fucks you through it. When your cunt finally stops convulsing around him, he drops your hips and leans over your limp, fucked out body.

Frankie kisses you with a tenderness that seems at odds with the way he just fucked you, stuttering his hips into you one, two, three more times before pulling out and nestling his cock into the crease between your thigh and your torso. His cum splatters across your shirt in long spurts, coating you in his release.

His forehead drops to yours and your heaving breaths mingle in the space between you. You meet his gaze and there’s something in his eyes… something like adoration. Affection. He shakes his head slightly and stands up.

“I’ll get you a shirt to wear,” his voice comes out hoarse, rough with the after effects of his orgasm. He disappears into his closet and comes back with a big, long-sleeve t-shirt. You sit up slowly and take the shirt from him.

“Thank you, Frankie,” you whisper.

Frankie wakes up in his bed alone. His brow furrows in disappointment. He usually likes to make his hookups breakfast and drive them back to their car. He knows it’s a little weird, but it’s important to him that he takes care of you. He flops onto his side and catches a glimpse of a piece of paper on his nightstand. It’s your number, your name signed with a heart and a note promising to return the shirt.

Frankie smiles, feeling something dangerously close to hope for the first time in a long time.

A/N: This fic has been in the works for a while now. The initial idea was pitched in a chat with @beskarandblasters and she supported me every step of the way <3. Thanks to the Whorehomies for hyping me and this idea up! I appreciate y'all more than you'll ever know. And thanks to @str84pedro for the beta/grammar edit I love you!

Let me know if you want to be tagged <3

Tag List: @beskarandblasters, @cutesyscreenname, @atinylittlepain, @harriedandharassed, @jksprincess10, @fishingforpike, @dreamingofdaddydin, @sad-bitch-disorder

#Frankie Morales #Frankie Morales fics #Frankie Morales fan fiction #Frankie Morales x reader #Frankie Morales x you #Triple Frontier #former firefighter!frankie #ambulance driver!frankie #bsily #burn slowly i love you #one night stand to lovers #slow burn #which is ironic because they fuck immediately but the romance is a slow burn #point out my fire references it makes me giggle #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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