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undercoverpena · 5 days

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up sky, low high

frankie morales x f!reader | frankie morales masterlist

summary: frankie takes you on a heli-ride. you decide to test his competency and take him for a ride.

word count: 1.9k warnings: smut. 18+. there's mouth to cock action in the sky - new kink for jo? maybe. jo's interpretation of how to fly a heli is deffo a warning in itself. everyone is safe. remember he's a professional, but don't try this in the air bbys. jo’s spelling—written on phone, forgive me. moodboard not reflective of reader. an: this wouldn't be possible without @morallyinept who not only thotted with me, told me to write this, filled me with confidence at the halfway point when i sent it to her but also made the prettiest banner and moodboard for this (see at the bottom). babe ily, thank you so much for this.

It’s not ideal—not even close to safe.

Finger pushing in on the button that releases the elements of your seatbelt as you swallow, staring at him. Gawking, in fact.

Frankie always looks good, a fact not fiction.

Whether it’s first thing in the morning, sleep in his eyes—fingers scratching over his soft stomach as he yawns. Or when his eyes are hidden under the bill of his hat, dark, all mahogany brown pupils blown with lust as the thing on the television becomes forgotten.

And while he does always look incredible, there’s something criminal about the way he looks right now. Piloting, all in his element, wearing fucking competency like he was the one who first birthed it as he keeps the helicopter in the air.

Short flight, he’d said when he’d helped you into the rental.

Now, you could bet on it.

Because you're not even sure how long you’ve been in the air, too busy gazing, hungrily undressing him as he flicks switches and checks gauges. Your understanding of what he was doing lost, barely reaching a basic level.

What you do know is that if he reaches over, slides his hand up your dress and touches the fabric covering your pussy, he’d find them soaked.

But then, he’d also likely notice the way you’re taking shallow breaths, that you’ve been squirming for friction for the past so many instructions—

Because of his voice.

It all low, husky—dragged through gravel when it comes through the headset. Pointing out sights, places, but he’s the only thing you want to gaze at from this height. From any height.

That’s why the thought had arrived, to begin with, the lucrative one. The one so far gone that you try not to consider logistics and just trust in the fact he’d stop you if it was too unsafe. Your voice barely steady through the microphone, asking—layered and wrapped with demand, as your pulse quickens and your palms become slick with sweat.

You know the idea is ridiculous. Yet, somehow, you find yourself moving up onto your knees, digging them into the chair you’d just been seated on.

That’s when you see it. The glimmer, the spark, before he whines out that he’ll maintain altitude as you palm him over his cargo pants. Feeling him harden, pressing against the zipper, all thick, long and delicious as your mouth waters.

Because you need him in your mouth.

A thing you must murmur because suddenly he’s helping—lifting his hips as he whispers an oh fuck, when you drag his layers down and your hand wraps around his cock. More so when you move your wrist, dipping your head to slide your tongue to lick up the bead of want already there at the tip.

Flicking your gaze up, you find hungry eyes staring back—ones lit by the sun, shades a plenty making up the lust-filled gaze that makes your mouth open wider as you take as much of him as you can.

Fuck it’s glorious.

Both the thrum of vibrations through the cushion seat under your knees as he keeps the thing in the air and the feel of his hot length sliding against your tongue. As you take him. As you make him hiss through gritted teeth when you try to take a little more of him than you usually manage—tears springing in your eyes and your throat constricting around him—

“Careful, querida,” he soothes.

Large hand cupping the back of your head, easing, aiding, as his cock rests at the entrance of your mouth, placed perfectly on your lower lip. Breath coming back to you; eyes blinking as he darts his eyes from the world below him to you.

“You okay?”

Until now, you weren’t sure if it was possible to be more in love with him. Then he proved that even up in the air he thought of nothing but what was best for you.

Nodding, spit trailing down your chin, droplets falling to your chest where it pools as fabric meets skin, you smile. Gleam. Grin. Before making him swallow a moan as you take him again, his head falling back.

It’s then, when you hollow your cheeks do you feel him shift, allowing him, as he gently thrusts to slide his length as far down your throat as it allows. Good girl, so good, my good girl—

Humming around him at his praise, a blend of languages as he calls you pretty and perfect. And you can tell he’s close, taste it on your tongue as he begins to rock his hips, as he begins to hiss—teeth biting down on his lip, imagining his knuckles whitening around the cyclic stick.

It’s enough to make you come from the thought—close to ruining your own panties further as you press your thighs together.

Closing your lips around him, sucking and adorning, showing him, etching your love for him with the way your tongue swirls over the tip, hand gripping his thigh as he groans your name. It followed by s’close, m’close baby—

Then he pulls you off him, all with care. Spit connecting your lips to his tip as you stare at him in confusion. The line dropping, snapping—it clinging to the curls at the base of him, soaking his hair like dew on a spring morning.

“Frankie…”

It’s all you manage to croak out. Eyes wide, thoughts barely present, all cock-drunk and adrenaline-fuelled—the scent of him still there, around your nose, musk and engine oil.

“Need to land,” he replies, short, jaw tight—cock angry and throbbing between his thighs as he flicks a switch. “Can’t… can’t fuck you, unless I land.”

You’re not sure he’s ever landed so quickly, never mind so clunky. Remembering stories, how he gloats at his prowess at most of his land landings. But you have no time to question, think, or ask, before he pulls off his belt, headset and hat before reaching to yank you into his lap.

It’s clumsy—a mess of limbs, a tight squeeze as your hands skate around his neck. But you forget about it all when his mouth crashes to yours. Kissing you so hard and hungrily your teeth clash. His breath is hot in your mouth as he pants at the feel, likely tasting himself as he slips his tongue into yours.

And it’s warm, his tongue. Licking into your mouth, large hands around your waist brushing your clothed core against his cock—the hiss reverbing down your throat as you swear you feel him shake. Tremble. So desperate for you that it makes him quiver.

You love kissing him.

Could spend hours doing it. Not caring about jaw aches when you’re tangled up with him. Like right now. In some field, in some place—

“Need t’fuck you, baby. Can I fuck you please?” he asks, voice low, but tinged with a plea.

His hand balls up your dress, the other hand hooking a finger in to pull your soaked underwear from your pussy before groaning at the sight. “Hold them for me, baby.”

Swallowing, smiling—you do. Lifting, nudging yourself closer as your knees screech on the leather as you become full of molten hunger. Hovering over him as he eases the head of his cock to your slick entrance, sliding it through your folds, eyes focused on you.

“Can’t wait.”

“Then, don’t,” you whisper.

Then he hisses as he pushes in, right between his teeth. One that’s born at the back of his throat and makes an entrance into the air. Cuts. Slices. The sound so fucking hot that you clench around him when he bottoms out—mouth open in an O at how full, stretched and stuffed you feel.

“No te muevas—lemme feel you, baby. Fuck—”

Your smile widens—practically smirking. Shifting on him as the hand on your waist tightens its hold. But, you’re not listening. Even less so when you press an open-mouth kiss to his skin as you begin to move, to slowly slide your pussy up and down his shaft.

“Fuck, querida—feel so—good—incredible. Tu perfecto. Made for me, you know that…”

It’s layered—all in a breath; you answer similarly when you say that you do. Practically pressing it into the air as you pant, resting your forehead on his shoulder, as the two of you are quick to find a pace.

It’s almost drowned by how wet you are, how loud it is when he begins to thrust up into you. All aching for one another, practically feral as you feel your slick clings to your inner thighs—likely smudging against his skin as your fist clenches at his shirt. Clit brushing against the tangle of coarse hair, you’re soaking, that makes you dizzy as he begins to fuck up into you.

All deep thrusts. Making you moan—feeling nothing but good. Perfect. Amazing.

Just how he always makes you feel this way. Every, single, time—

“Need you to come, baby,” he strains, rasps, groans as you feel his hand—all expert, calloused in the right places—snake between the two of you.

It’s there, trying to disguise between letters: desperation. Despair. His touch confirms it, finding your bundle of nerves as he makes you gasp, arch, tighten around him as your hand finds refuge on the back of his neck. Your fingers slide into his sweat-soaked curls, smearing against your fingers as you clutch, grip and grasp.

And you’re aware of it now. How the cabin is warmer—windows likely smothered in perspiration—but it’s nothing compared to the heat of your body. It licks at your neck, at the base of your spine, the backs of your thighs that meet your calves.

But you’re lost in it, in him. Wanting nothing more than to come; unable to speak from how much you want to. More so as his hips cant up into you, as you begin to see white in the corner of your vision—as your body becomes more fire than bone.

Tightening around him as he shifts, an angle that makes you see fucking stars as you whine his name like it’s made of one syllable.

“—that’s it, querida. Fuck, s’good for me, I love—“

It building, so near to snapping as you hear him babbling, rambling. Your mouth is just open against his neck, moaning—the noise slipping out of you as it slams into you. His voice fading, the world going quiet as you come undone, all pulsing, all clenching down on him as it crests.

But his hips push you through it. Chasing, seeking. His pace is all sloppy, difficult, lost as you blink your eyes open to see the way his face is scrunched, lips over his teeth. And if you hadn’t just, you swear you’d come against from the sight.

That look of sheer determination, skin bathed in sweat before his eyes find yours—crystallising, glazed over and fucked out—

“Come for me, baby,” you whisper.

And his expression pauses. Relaxes.

Smooths.

His hand tightens on your hip, grunting out your name—burying it into the air as his hips stutter. Then, he whines. Spilling inside of you as he collapses back into the chair, you pressed against him, jaw all slack and his eyes clenched shut.

And you swear you can feel his heartbeat. It is all out of step with your own.

Not that you care.

Smiles painted on your faces as your eyes met his, breaths ragged, your finger wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.

Before his lips slide back over yours, kissing you, writing gratitude against your mouth as the muscles in his neck flex under your palm.

an: look how pretty this issssssss. thank you so much, jett.

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polaroidpascal · 6 days

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let me || frankie morales

AO3 || MASTERLIST

pairing : frankie morales x f!reader

summary : after two weeks of frankie coming home knocking on death’s door from exhaustion, you decide to give him a break.

tags : fluff !!, no use of y/n, you taking care of frankie, very small nods to sex, undressing, showering together, cuddling, short and sweet glimpse into domestic life with frankie 🥹

WC : ~1.8k

a/n : i’ve never written pure fluff before, but the frankie brainrot has reached an all-time high and i desperately need to take care of this man. hope you like this little slice of domestic life with frankie 🫶 (not beta read or proofread much, just psa!)

You’re cozied up on your recliner reading a book in the soft light from your lamp when Frankie finally comes home from work.

He opens the door gently, tiredly. He never knows if you’re going to be asleep or not, so he errs on the side of caution just in case. Plus, he’s too exhausted to make more noise anyway.

You watch him from the corner as he sets down his keys. They clink against the ceramic dish that he made for you forever ago after you had moved in together. He sets down his backpack opting to unpack it tomorrow and hangs up his hat, running his hand and fingers through his curls with a long, tired sigh before he kicks off his boots.

He turns around to see you in your pajamas wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, book in hand, the lamp illuminating you from behind like an angel descending from heaven.

No amount of exhaustion can keep the tired smile from blooming across his face. “Hey, baby,” he says, his hand now rubbing the back of his neck to soothe the sore muscles there.

“Hi, love,” you say back sweetly. “How was work?”

He answers with another sigh and tired eyes, his smile fading just a bit remembering the absolutely packed couple of weeks he’s had. “It was alright, just tired.”

Frankie has come home beyond exhausted every day for the past two weeks. The first few nights, you were already asleep by the time he came home, unable to keep your eyes open any longer to wait for him. You had sent him a text telling him to wake you up when he got home, but of course your sweet boyfriend would never do that, not when you look so peaceful in your sleep.

One night, you happened to be awake when he came home, much to his surprise. He tried to play off how drained he was, bringing you in for a hug that swallowed you whole in his broad figure, whisking you off to your bedroom to try and ignore his exhaustion. But you could see it in his eyes from the moment he walked in that he was barely hanging on, and he definitely slept hard that night.

After that, you made sure you were up every night long enough to catch him walking through the door, picking up a new novel series to pass the time while you waited.

You rise from the recliner and shuffle over to Frankie in your fuzzy socks and his t-shirt loosely fitting your frame, the wide neckline exposing your collarbones. “You look tired, Frankie. And I’m not saying that in a mean way.”

He takes you in his arms and kisses the top of your head breathing another sigh, like he’s relearning how to breathe after being so busy all day. “I know, baby.”

You stay wrapped in each other's arms for a minute, Frankie’s head resting atop your own. His dead weight grows each second that passes and you let him stay until you can’t hold him up anymore. You rub and pat his back gently before you whisper, “Why don’t we go take a shower, hm?” looking up when he lifts his head again.

He looks back at you with his big, brown, pouty eyes and mumbles, “But you’re already in your pajamas…”

“I know,” you nod, reaching your hand up to cup his cheek and glancing across his face at his tired and beautiful features. “You’re always taking care of me. Can you let me take care of you this time?”

His eyes are still pouting and nearly half closed now as he pauses, then gently nods, letting you lead him to your bedroom.

He stands in the middle of the room reaching down to the hem of his shirt to undress but your hands stop him. He looks at you confused.

“Let me,” you say. He has no protests.

He watches you lift his shirt exposing his stomach and chest, raising his arms so you can slip it over his head. You toss it to the side while Frankie reaches down to take his socks off. Your hands move down to his belt, slipping it out of the loops of his jeans. It clinks to the floor and you unbutton his pants, slipping them down with his underwear. He watches you the whole time, stepping out when you reach the bottom before you stand up again.

When you meet his gaze, the love radiating from his eyes almost makes your heart burst from your chest. You smile gently at him, reaching up to give him a soft kiss before leading him to the shower.

You run the water warm, more on the hot side, and start to undress yourself. Frankie watches you strip, the way your shoulder blades move as you pull your shirt over your head and unhook your bra. The way your spine flexes as you reach down to pull your pants off and shimmy out of them. How angelically perfect the curves of your body look.

You turn around to look at him and see tears welling in his eyes.

Immediately, your heart drops and you rush to cup his face in your hands. “Oh, Frankie, what’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, nothing, I just…” He looks your face up and down examining all the features he finds so beautiful and takes a breath. “I love you so much,” he says, the end of his sentence getting quiet, tapering off choked in emotion.

You stare at the gorgeous boy in front of you, exhausted from his hard work, so full of emotion that he’s brought to tears, and you feel your own eyes start to sting. All you can do is hug him and bury your face into his chest, his warm, soft skin pressed against you as your arms clasp around him. “I love you too, Frankie.”

You feel his breath get a little quicker as he tries to keep himself in check, the fight against his tears getting harder and harder. You pull back and wipe away a few strays that started rolling down his cheeks before pulling him into the shower.

You wash Frankie head to toe helping him clean the day off. He leans down some so you can wash his hair, making sure to give his scalp a little massage while you suds up his curls. His eyes close and he softly hums as your fingers card through each strand. He loves when you play with his hair.

You gently wash his back, watching the soap slowly roll down his body as you rub circles into his skin. The muscles look tight, flexing some just with the slow breaths he’s taking. You reach up and dig your thumbs into the visible knots you see near the base of his neck where he was rubbing before. His head drops forward a bit, a soft groan leaving his lips at the relief.

You turn him around and wash his chest, watching the soapy water cascade down his pecs and stomach.

He watches you as best he can, wanting to savor every second, and he can’t help but close his eyes at the soothing feeling of the warm water flowing across his skin… the soap erasing the dirt from the day… and most importantly of all, your feather-light, loving touch behind every movement.

You rinse his chest a little and give him a soft kiss to his sternum, handing him the sponge to wash the rest of his body while you wash your own.

He silently watches you move, feeling himself get emotional again thinking about how lucky he feels to have you. That you’d do this for him. That you care so much about him. The love in his heart threatens to burst at the seams.

When you’re both done, Frankie grabs your hips and carefully spins you around before leaning down for a kiss. A kiss that’s worth a million words all condensed into one little action. A kiss that screams I love you, endlessly and eternally.

You stay under the shower head, lips locked with the silent words of affection being exchanged. You only think to get out when you feel the water starting to run cold.

When you get out, you loosely wrap a towel around yourself before grabbing another to dry off Frankie. You rub his hair and his face, draping it around his shoulders and tip-toeing up to kiss his nose before you finish drying yourself off.

You slip back into your pajamas and Frankie puts on his sweatpants before you both climb into bed together. Frankie immediately plops down on his side of the bed, lying on his back and draping his arms over his eyes as he sighs deep, finally comfortable after the long, long day he’s had.

He feels you crawl into bed with him, your weight shifting the mattress around him as you climb on top of him, legs straddled over his sides.

He moves his arms to look up at you staring at his chest tracing circles onto his skin. His hands rest on the tops of your thighs and he rests his head back on his pillow, but you swear you can feel his entire energy shift.

“You okay?” you ask, resting your palms on his skin.

“I…” he starts, looking up at you with sad eyes. “I love you so much, you know that… I’m just… I’m really tired, baby. I don’t know if I can—“

“Frankie,” you cut him off. “I’m not in the mood either.”

He looks at you with his pouty doe eyes again. “You’re not?”

“No,” you assure him. “I just wanted to look at you. How pretty you are. How lucky I am to have you.”

Frankie’s chest gets tight, the tears stinging in his eyes again as he wonders what he could have possibly done to deserve someone like you. Who loves him unconditionally. Who takes care of him so tenderly. Who is straddled on top of him just because she wants to look at him.

Before you can catch his eyes getting redder, he pulls you down to lay by his side, cradling you in his arms and kissing the top of your head. “It’s me who’s lucky to have you, amor.”

You hum and settle into his embrace, inhaling his clean scent and relaxing against his soft skin. Just as you’re starting to drift off, you hear a faint mumble, “Thank you.”

And you don’t even need to respond. You just press your body closer somehow, planting a kiss to his chin before nuzzling into his neck.

And it’s the only answer Frankie needs.

#francisco catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction

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thot-of-khonshu · 8 months

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it's always the quiet ones (frankie morales x reader)

Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Commissions

Summary: you thought Frankie Morales was shy when you first met him. when he decided to take you on a date, you were pleasantly surprised. when he ate you out against an alley wall, you were even more surprised.

Rating: M, 18+

Word count: 2.5K

Content: explicit smut, public sex, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving), frankie being soft but surprisingly dirty

When Santiago first told you that Frankie was interested in you knew that there was no doubt that he was fucking with you. Frankie Morales? The man whose said maybe 20 words total to you when you’ve spent time with him?

After work you liked to tag along with your fun coworker Santi to grab drinks and blow off some steam. More times than not, his military buddies would tag along with you - grinning, boisterous and ready to have fun. They would talk about their gory stores in the Army or listen to your gory stories of modern dating. And then...there was Frankie.

Your eyes immediately went to him when you first spotted him in the room. His large, strong frame was visible under a light grey t-shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and chest perfectly. His face was strong with a sharp defined nose and deep brown eyes that seemed to pierce your soul. Dark curls hung out from underneath a tattered baseball cap.

Frankie was quiet. He was always taking in everything around him without saying a word. He had an ability to see things that others couldn't even imagine.

After you'd met him for the first time, you tried to approach him. You introduced yourself with what you thought was a sweet smile, and all he did was give you a long look and nod at you. You excused yourself and ﬂed to the bathroom to collect your embarrassment.

To say he was difficult to get to know would be an understatement. He was nothing like Benny, who was chatty, silly and easy-going. He was nothing like Will who even though stoic and reserved, would talk to you about his fiance at any chance he got.

But Frankie?

When you asked him about his week, he always offered the same non-descriptive response, "fine," and took a sip of beer in an attempt to end the conversation.

Pool or darts were both suggested, yet both were rebuked with a simple reply of "I'm no good at it." Shots were never attempted; only beers. It seemed the two of you just didn't click. And then Santi declared one night after drinks that Frankie Morales had a crush on you.

"Why couldn't he just tell me himself?" You asked.

Santi shrugged. "You've got to work harder to get someone like that to open up. But I promise, he likes you. Give him a chance. Even if it's just for a free dinner."

What the hell at this point, right? Santiago gave you Frankie's phone number and the texts started out cordial. It was more conversation than the two of you had ever had, coordinating on when and where to meet.

As you got ready for your dinner with Frankie, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness. You wanted to make a good impression, but you didn't know what to expect from someone who you hadn't talked to very much. Santiago wasn't a great help either, merely telling you to be yourself and see where the night takes you.

You had dressed up in a simple black dress that hugged your curves perfectly, paired with some strappy heels. You made sure that every strand of your hair was in place before heading to the restaurant.

When you arrived, Frankie was already there, sitting at a small table in the corner. He looked up as you approached, and for a moment, you almost didn't recognize him. This wasn't the same guy who would grunt and grumble at you at the bar. His curls were brushed out and he had left behind his trusted hat. He was wearing a nice button down shirt, a few buttons undone to expose his tan chest. He looked good. When he smiled at you, his dimples exposed, you realized this was the first time he'd really ever smiled at you.

You felt a flicker when you approached him. An all too familiar feeling with an unfamiliar person. You could feel a new energy emanating from him, a sense of confidence that you hadn't seen before.

"Hi," he said, his voice softer than usual. "You look nice tonight."

You returned the compliment as he pulled your chair to sit. Your hands briefly touched and you felt the hairs on the back of your arm stand up.

"So what brings you here tonight?" he asked, cooly sitting down and taking a sip of his drink. Was Frankie actually trying to banter with you?

You shrugged, trying to play it cool and ignore the growing feeling. "Just wanted to get out of the house, you know?"

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad you did. I was hoping I'd see you tonight."

You couldn't believe the thought that had crossed your mind about possibly calling off the date.

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

Had you predicted how your date with Frankie would go at the start of the day, you'd never have imagined it going so well. Yet here the two of you were, bantering like old friends sharing a bottle of wine. The conversation flowed. There was so much you didn't know about this man. He was a pilot. He has a daughter. He was sharp with wit. He had a gentle demeanor that felt like a breath of fresh air. You've finally gotten to the other side of the coin of this man.

Once the bill came and the server came to get Frankie's card for the check, there was a brief silence after shared smiles and laughter. It started to hit you that dinner was over and you weren't ready for the night to end. But is this something he wanted to? Maybe he wanted to take you out to see if there was something and he was being cordial?

As if he was reading your thoughts, Frankie spoke up. "Do you wanna go for a walk? There's a gelato place near by, I think you'd really like it."

You smiled from ear to ear at the suggestion. "I'd love that."

Frankie paid the bill and you both left the restaurant, walking side by side down the street. The two of you strolled through the empty streets, sharing a double scoop of gelato on a stick. How was it possible that you couldn't read him less than 12 hours ago but now you were talking as if you'd known him for a lifetime?

"I have to be honest...I was really surprised when Santiago said you wanted to go out with me." You said, stopping by a lamp post.

Frankie looked over at you, his eyes softening. "Really? Why's that?"

You shrugged, feeling a little bit embarrassed. "I don't know. I just didn't think you were interested in me."

Frankie squeezed your hand gently, you felt the callouses on his hands and they soothed you. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to come off as rude or uninterested. Truth is, I was intimidated by you."

"Me? Intimidating?" you laughed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

Frankie nodded, his eyes serious. "Yeah. You're beautiful, smart, and confident. I didn't know how to handle that at first. I was just so terrified that if I said something awkward, there was no turning back."

He paused, roaming his hand through his hair, his curls coming back to life from the humid air. He licked his lips. "I've liked you for awhile. I'm just...not good at this."

"By the way tonight is going you could've fooled me." You smirked.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" He asked.

You leaned in and pressed your mouth against his. His lips were plush and they had a hint of sweetness from the gelato. You pulled away, and he gazed down at you, his mouth turned upwards in a smirk.

"Does that answer your question?" You teased.

"Not even a bit," He chuckled, as he came crashing onto your lips again. You stumbled back, trying to stay in the kiss for as long as possible, and felt the chill of the lightpost behind you. Frankie cupped the nape of your neck, initially to make sure you were alright, but when your lips parted to deepen into it, he didn't resist. His hands ran down your back as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth with his tongue.

You let out a soft moan that made him pull you closer, making your kiss wilder. All you wanted in that moment was to press up against him, feel the heat from his body against your own. You couldn't help but run your hands down the front of his shirt, feeling the welcoming softness of his body. His hands slid down to the curves of your ass and you felt the heat emanating from you.

The piercing wolf whistle coming from someone on the street made the two of you break apart. You pulled away, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" You asked.

Frankie ran his fingers through your hair, looking at you with eyes that were dazed. "Yeah."

The two of you walked quickly, hand in hand, until he led you to a back alley that was shielded from public view.

The side street is dark and the cold air makes it feel like you are underwater. Frankie's touch is warm and makes you feel as if you are floating out of water instead.

Frankie kisses you deep and slow, allowing you to taste his lips as he draws you deeper into the kiss.

You pull him in closer, pressing your hips against his, feeling the unmistakable bulge between his thighs.

You moan softly when he lifts you up, bracing your back against the wall and running his hands along your curves.

"Baby..." He groans against your ear.

You rub yourself against him, feeling the heat growing from the center of your stomach.

"Can I touch you?" He whispers.

"Please."You whimper softly as he runs his hand up your inner thigh, feeling higher and higher up your dress. Reveling in the softness of your skin. He brushes the fabric against your clit and just his touch makes your knees go weak.

He moves his fingers in circles around the outside of your entrance. You arch your back, pressing your hips against his hand, silently begging for him to slip his fingers inside. He moves closer to you, pushing your dress up higher, and finally he slides your underwear to the side and you feel his thick finger slide inside of you.

"Frankie..." You cry out.

"Fuck," he mutters, pulling his hand away from you and sliding his fingers in his mouth. "You're so fucking wet."

You pull him in for another kiss, messy and wanting, feeling his fingers move in slow, sensual motions into your entrance. You bite down on your lower lip, trying to keep quiet while his hand explores the soft wet folds of your pussy.

He inserts another finger, pushing them deeper inside you and you gasp. He's already making you feel so full with just his fingers, savoring every single movement he makes.

"Does that feel good?" He whispers into your ear.

"It feels so fucking good." You moan softly, rolling your hips against his hand.

"I can't wait until I'm deep inside of you. Until I can fill you up so good..." he growls.

You moan, your knees weakening as you feel him slide in deeper. His pace quickens as he adds a thumb to your clit. Your head hits the back of the wall and Frankie cradles the back of your head, tilting it slightly so he can kiss your neck.

You roll your hips faster against his hand, feeling your core begin to build. You grip tightly on his shoulders, biting down on your lower lip to keep quiet but the sounds of your wetness are starting to fill the area.

Frankie himself is getting swept up in kissing your neck and your chest, peppering kisses and what you can only assume are filthy words in Spanish as he moves lower and lower to lower the strap on your dress.

He lifts you up higher, making it easier for you to move on his fingers as he sucks the bud of your nipple. Your hands go to the nape of his neck as you try to steady yourself, trying to stifle your moans as best you can. You grind your hips harder against him, feeling the growing pleasure pool at your core.

You hear the wet pop of him removing his mouth from your nipple and feel the cool air on your chest. He removes his fingers from you, and you feel that maybe he thinks the two of you got carried away even though it feels so right.

He positions himself lower, between the entrance of your legs that are hoisted on his broad shoulders and pulls your panties down. He spreads you open with his fingers, admiring your wet folds.

"Look at this pretty pussy." He murmurs. "This tight wet hole. It's all mine isn't it?"

He runs his tongue along your strip and you involuntarily let out a cry. He shushes you.

"You have to be quiet for me, baby." Frankie says, kissing at your inner thigh. "Can you do that? So I can make you cum?"

You nod feverishly, your mouth pursed shut as if it's the hardest thing you've ever had to do and he begins to run his tongue over your entrance again.

His tongue circles your clit, slow and teasing and then he takes it between his lips to suck. You rock your hips against his face, your hands on his curls as he slides one hand under your ass to lift you. He slides two fingers into you, pumping faster as you whine.

The pleasure is too much and you dig your nails into his scalp, muffling your cries into his hair. He picks up his pace, his tongue moving faster and faster as he thrusts his fingers deeper and deeper.

You feel yourself coming undone, your muscles contracting around his fingers as you scream into your mouth, back arching from the wall. He pulls his fingers out of you as his tongue circles your clit one last time and your body relaxes.

He kisses your thigh and pulls your panties back up, pressing his forehead against your stomach. "You're so fucking beautiful," he whispers.

He comes back up to pull the top of your dress back up, shielding you as he looks around for anyone else to walk by.

"Oh, now you're checking to see if anyone is around?" You grin. He takes your hand, kissing the top of it as he leads you back out to the street.

"I couldn't help myself. I promise on our next date I won't get so...carried away." Frankie blushes.

You smile, blushing slightly yourself. You can't believe what just happened.

"I think I like getting carried away with you."

Frankie Morales was a man of many mysteries. He was quiet, caring, sweet, sensual and filthy. You thought you knew him and here was this completely other side. You had a feeling he had more up his sleeve, but you were more than willing to find out more.

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x y/n #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier smut #triple frontier fic #triple frontier #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic

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guess-my-next-obsession · 9 months

Text

Real Love, Baby

pairing: frankie morales x plus size!fem!reader

rating: F (talks of body image issues/insecurities/maybe a kiss of inner angst bc i’m self-soothing here, but mostly just Frankie wooing us)

wc: ~1k

frankie masterlist

Growing up curvier than all of your friends had somehow brainwashed you into believing romance had a weight limit on it. Even into adulthood, you found yourself perpetually single, watching and playing wingman to your friends who, by the grace of genetics, seemed to always have a line of suitors waiting for their shot only to be turned down.

While you admired and adored your friends for knowing that their league was far above some random dude in a bar, you couldn’t help the slight twist of jealousy blossom in your stomach every time they shooed another suitor away, simply because you couldn’t even remember the last time a man tried to talk to you in a bar.

It wasn’t the attention you wanted—hell, it wasn’t even the men that you yearned for. You simply longed to feel like all of the other girls, to experience the things they experienced, to be desired by someone without being fetishized. To live the life that every “conventionally” attractive woman got to live, one full of experience and romance and heartbreak.

It wasn’t any surprise that when the day finally came, you were severely unprepared, and truthfully, a little rude.

“Hey,” a voice sounded from behind you as you stood at the bar, watching your friend’s purses as they danced the night away with a man they’d just met that night. Expecting the usual, you sighed and pointed at the seat beside you.

“Look, if you want to talk to one of my friends, you’re gonna have to do that yourself,” you said, hardly even looking at the man who’d found his seat beside you.

“What?” he chuckled, though genuine confusion was thick in his tone.

You brought your eyes to his finally and sighed at how handsome he was. Why is it that you always find yourself attracted to the kind of men that look like they would have bullied you in middle school?

“My friend—“ you started, but the furrow in his brow cut you off. “What?”

“I didn’t come over here to talk to your friend,” he explained with a chuckle. “I came to try and talk to you.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your lips at his words, but the confusion written all over his face silenced your amusement.

“Sorry, I just—“ You shook your head and looked down at your drink, swirling the black straw inside of it around the glass. “I can’t remember the last time someone tried to talk to me in a bar.”

“Me either,” he said, offering a friendly smile that instantly made you feel safe with him even when you knew nothing about him at all. Holding his hand out to you, he introduced himself. “I’m Frankie.”

You slid your hand into his and shook it, smiling shyly as you gave him your name.

“So, Frankie,” you spoke through your fluster. “What brings you out tonight?”

“My friends,” he replied, swiveling on the barstool to point across the room at a table of muscly, masculine men who began to whistle the minute you turned to look at them. “Sorry about them. They collectively share one brain cell.”

“Ah,” you nodded and smiled again. “What about you?”

“I’ve got at least five, I think,” he said, flashing that winning grin of his. “I don’t wanna sound like a creep or anything—“

“Oh no,” you winced, making him laugh.

“No, nothing too creepy, I promise. I just,” he sucked in a breath of courage and suddenly looked endearingly boyish to you. “I’ve just seen you around a few times before, but I’m not the best at this whole…flirting thing so I never came over.”

You feel your cheeks heat at his admission.

“What finally gave you the courage?” you asked, attempting to play things cool just like your friends always did.

“My friend Pope said that if I didn’t come talk to you, he would,” he said. Turning around again, you smirked as you looked at the men who’d gone back to their conversation.

“Which one’s Pope?” you asked.

“The short one,” he said dryly, earning a laugh.

“Pretty cute,” you teased, smiling as you watched Frankie roll his eyes.

“He’s loud. He snores. He’s got shit grammar—“ Another laugh. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d connected with a stranger like this, so quickly and naturally. “I’m saving you a headache, really.”

“Well, thank you,” you grinned. “I hate loud snorers with shit grammar.”

“Oh yeah? What do you like, then?” He was really going for it now, even pulling out the casual eye drop to your lips tactic that you’d seen so many men pull on your friends before. Only now, it was working.

“I like…” You bit your lip as your eyes bounced across his features. “Brown eyes,” he nodded as though to check it off the list. “A beard,” another nod. “But mostly, I just like a man who can make me laugh.”

“Sounds like you just stumbled upon the man of your dreams,” he grinned.

“You stumbled upon me, dream boy.” Frankie laughed and nodded in agreement.

“Is there any way we can stumble upon each other again?” he asked, that nervous smile finding its way back onto his face. “Maybe for brunch?”

“A man who eats brunch,” you fawned, making a show out of fanning yourself off. “I’d be a fool to say no.”

“Hey,” you smiled as you approached the patio table in front of the breakfast spot Frankie had picked out for your brunch date, finding him already seated and nervously bouncing his knee.

“Hey!” he chimed, a wave of relief washing away his nervousness as he stood to hug you and pull out your chair. “Thought maybe you’d changed your mind.”

“Definitely not,” you chuckled, sitting down and scooting yourself closer to the table as he resumed his seat in front of you. “Just had to give myself a pep talk in the car that forced me to run a little late.”

“Why on earth did you think you needed a pep talk to come and see me? A guy?” he laughed, his brown eyes meeting yours.

“Because you’re a very handsome guy and I’m…” You shrugged, not wanting to voice the insecurities that sat like a weight in the pit of your chest.

“You’re what? Way out of my fucking league?” he asked with a half-smirk.

“I haven’t heard that before,” you replied honestly, lifting your glass of water to take a sip.

“Well, that really fucking sucks, because you are out of my league,” he said sincerely. “Out of every guy’s league.”

“What a line,” you playfully rolled your eyes.

“It’s not a line,” he promised. “I think you’re beautiful, and on top of that, you’re really fucking witty and quick.”

“Thanks,” you blushed and swirled your straw around your cup. “Not used to being complimented this much.”

“Well, if you decide to keep me around, I’d like to try and get you used to that.”

Five Years Later

“Jesus,” you groaned, leaning into Frankie’s side as the two of you walked into that bar where you first met, the room filled with younger people that made you question your spot here. “Are we old?”

“I’ve been old for a while, baby,” he joked, placing his hand on the small of your back as you weaved your way through the crowd to the table where Frankie’s friends sat.

“There they are,” cheered Pope.

“Aw, the newlyweds make an appearance!” Benny added with a teasing smirk.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have,” you quipped, watching Frankie pull your seat out before sitting down. “We need to find a spot to drink with people our own age.”

“Hey,” Benny said. “Just because all of you are old and settled down doesn’t mean I am. I still need to find my princess.”

“You’re going to find your ‘princess’ in a sports bar?” his brother, Will, teased.

“Frankie did,” he argued.

“And to think,” Pope mused, playfully throwing his arm across your shoulder to hug you into his side. “What could have been if Frankie never got the courage to talk to you.”

Frankie, sitting on your other side, swatted his friend’s arm off of you before pulling your chair closer to his.

“Thankfully, we’ll never know,” he said, leaning over to kiss your shoulder. “I’ve got her locked down now.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales triple frontier #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales oneshot #frankie morales x y/n #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales

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jksprincess10 · 5 months

Text

Are we out of the woods 1. The cabin

Summary : Your father is a dangerous man who has a lot of enemies. One day, you’re taken from your home by force to go to a safe cabin in the woods to be protected from an unknown danger by three of his men: Ironhead, Pope and Catfish. You’re not really a nature enjoyer, but in your boredom, you discover a new love for nature. You also get to know the men working for your dad and interest sparks between you and the mysterious and silent Francisco.

CW: canon-like violence, explicit smut, reader is kind of a princess at first, talks of divorce, drugs & alcohol, talks of addiction, slight age gap (reader in her mid 20s, frankie in his late 30s), jealousy, tension, frankie is a mess.

Fic masterlist

Notification blog

"Dad, I can take care of myself you don't have to -"

"I'm sorry sweetie. You just don't realize how much danger you're in."

You knew your dad wasn't really in the military. He and his boys did kill people... but not to protect the country. Let’s just say your dad wasn’t the most innocent businessman, but you didn't want to know all the details. You were just happy to have a roof over you head and anything you wanted whenever you wanted. You wouldn't have to work a day in your life if you didn’t want to.

"This is Ironhead, Pope and Catfish. They will take you to the safe house and they will watch over your safety."

The three men are all shades of handsome. Ironhead is the classical pretty boy, blondish hair, and pale eyes. Pope is a tan Latino with dark hair and a dark stubble. Catfish is a shy looking man with patchy facial hair and pretty brown eyes.

You don’t acknowledge them at all, and you stop listening as your father gives them precise instructions. You barely have time to pack your bags before they enclose you in the backseat of a truck, next to the man called Catfish. Ironhead is driving and Pope oversees the map. You hope your neighbors don't see the commotion. Outside of your dad's job, you just wanted a normal life.

"Where are we going?" You ask.

You stopped recognizing the scenery a long time ago. You were rolling on rough country roads and the view was filled with trees with bright orange and deep red leaves. The earth was dry and yellow where there were no leaves.

"Somewhere safe." Pope responds pragmatically.

"I wish I could have stayed home." You roll your eyes and cross your arms against your chest.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but we have orders. Your dad pays us, not you." Ironhead says, looking at you from the rearview mirror.

"Fine. Wake me up when we're there."

Catfish is the only one not talking, his mind seems to be elsewhere.

The house is more of a cabin in the woods than anything else. You expected a bunker or something sturdier, but not this house made out of dark wood. It looks very remote and boring. Good thing you brought your kindle because counting the logs that composed the house would get boring very fast.

"At least it's not a tent." You grumble to yourself. The boys laugh.

"Sorry it's not a castle." Responds Pope. "Let's get settled."

The cabin is much larger on the inside. The boys would share a room with bunk beds, and you would have your private quarters. Thank god. You couldn’t imagine sleeping in the same room as three sweaty and probably snoring men.

You discover your room: it has no personality, but the bed seems big and somewhat cozy. There’s a small window, from where you can admire a calm lake. You leave your bag on the mattress and start unpacking. You brought a few changes of warm clothes, not knowing if you’d still be here after the snow started falling from the sky. When you’re done, your hunger manifests with a low grumble in your stomach. You go to the cabin’s kitchen to fetch something to eat.

"She's a spoiled brat."

"She acts like she's 12. What do you think, fish? "

Frankie sighs.

"Boss don't pay us to have an opinion. I'll take first watch."

When Catfish comes out of the bedroom where the boys are settling down, he finds you opening the cupboards with a sigh.

"You guys okay with...butter pasta?" You ask holding up your poor findings, a grimace on your face.

"Yeah. The guys eat whatever." It's the first time you hear his voice. It's slightly rough from his lack of talking. You wonder if he’s always so quiet and mysterious. He seems more interesting to you than the two other men.

You nod and get the water to boil. “Where are you going?” You ask as you see Catfish putting on his coat.

“Taking first watch, ma’am.”

“… Wait… My dad doesn’t really ask you to stand watch outside like a guard dog, does he?” You ask awkwardly. All of this was too much.

“Yes, he does. And I will do what I’m paid to do.”

With that, he’s gone. You shrug, even though you feel bad for the man standing outside in the cold fall night. Pope and Ironhead interrupt your thoughts.

“He’s always doing too much, don’t worry.” Pope offers with a smile as he sees Catfish through the small window of the door.

“I see.” You go back to staring blankly at the boiling water. “We’ll need food.”

“Hm. Respectfully… Didn’t know you could cook…” Ironhead says with a teasing smile. You roll your eyes not so subtly.

“You thought I had a private cook?" You take their silence for a yes. Your mother taught you how to cook and take care of a home so you could take care of your dad as well as she did. "Well, we’re eating plain pasta.” You drop the bag of noodles in the warm water and stir. “Do I have to call you guys by your stupid code names or...?”

“Guess not, since we might be here for a while. I’m Santiago, this is William and the guy with the sad eyes and the old cap is Francisco.”

You tell them your name, so they stop calling you “ma’am”. Not that you don't enjoy that sort of power you have.

"He's so dramatic." Santi sighs. Frankie still hadn't come back in, even though the pasta was getting colder and colder.

"He's doing too much." William agrees. "I don't think there's many dangers out here right now. Besides a few squirrels and maybe a bear. Maybe we should go get him, so he doesn’t die from starvation."

"I'll go." You take the bowl of lukewarm pasta made with butter, salt and pepper. It was the blandest thing you ever cooked. You open the front door and see the man sat on the front porch, gun in hand.

He looks up at you with those pretty dark eyes that shine even brighter under the moonlight.

"Francisco, is it?" You try to sound as pleasant as possible, as if not to scare a stray cat you were trying to pet. "Food is getting cold. I brought it for you, it's pretty bland but - anyway, I think the boys want you to come inside."

You leave the plate beside him and open the door, but his rough voice stops you.

"How do you know my name?"

"Santiago told me. I can call you Catfish if you want, even though it's not flattering at all."

There's the shadow of a smile on his lips. "Just call me Frankie. Only my mami calls me Francisco."

“Alright, Frankie.”

His name sounds so sweet on your lips. And frankly, it’s too cute for the man in front of you, who looks like he had seen better days. You don’t know if you’re hallucinating because of the warm light, but you swear you can see his cheeks getting red when you say his name.

“Well, good night, Frankie. You should come in soon.”

And he wants to follow you badly. But he has a job to do.

You close the door behind yourself, and he waits until you’re out of view to grab the plate and eat the bland pasta. Still, it was better than anything he could cook.

“No luck, boys.” You say as you come in.

“We’re not surprised. Thanks for trying.” Santi responds nicely.

William is already up and taking care of the dishes for you. You decide to go to the living room and to get a fire started. You imagine yourself spending long nights here, reading. The couch is old and torn in some places, but large enough for all of you to fit. There is a fluffy carpet on the cold floor and a coffee table, a perfect place where to place warm drinks. It's very cozy, very homey.

Your gaze rests on the window offering a view on the porch, where you imagine Frankie sitting. You don't know if he's actually there, the curtains are drawn, but you have a feeling he probably is.

Your stay might not be too bad after all.

#awootw #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie friday #frankie x you #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales triple frontier #triple frontier fic #santiago garcia #william miller #frankie morales x yn #frankie morales x y/n #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales smut

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moonlight-prose · 7 months

Text

✧ ENDLESSLY ✧

a/n: i am loving everyone's reactions to the kinktober fics. it's making this so much more exciting for me to keep writing! this is the first smut fic i've done with frankie in like two years. so i'm a bit nervous it's ooc. but i hope y'all enjoy it. there's plenty more with this man coming in the near future.

day three - handjob + mirror sex | kinktober 2023

summary: "tonight you were two people exploring the twists and turns of love. what it meant to be tied to one another, to be committed so thoroughly that you felt in the depths of your heart."

word count: 1k+

pairing: frankie morales x reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, handjob, praise, a tad bit of overstimulation, mirror sex, frankie being shy.

Your clothes were long discarded in a heap on the bedroom floor, his right beside yours. That’s where they would stay until the sun streamed through the curtains. Signaling that it was time to let life shift back to what it was used to. The routine you had both grown accustomed to. But tonight…he was yours.

Tonight you were two people exploring the twists and turns of love. What it meant to be tied to one another, to be committed so thoroughly that you felt it in the depths of your heart.

Grinning, you placed a soft kiss to his shoulder, a soft moan falling from his lips when his eyes fluttered open again. Catching the position of where you were in the mirror. Frankie never liked the attention to be displayed on him; always shying away from the sight of himself in the mirror when he was sans clothes. Except you wanted to do the same thing he’d done to you so many years ago when you first got together.

You wanted to show him the beauty you saw day in and day out.

“Look at yourself honey,” you breathed against his ear, teeth scraping the shell of it as he shivered.

You had him on his knees, back pressed to your chest, your arms wrapped around his torso. If only to press your hands to his soft stomach and feel him breathe. The gentle rise and fall of his upper body as you drove him higher with just your words. There was no denying the effect you had on him. How one single touch caused him to melt into you, allowing you to take the reins whenever you wanted.

Tonight was exactly that.

“Querida—” He gasped when your hand slipped down lower, brushing along the faint trail of hair that led to where he needed you most.

His cock practically leaked for you—the tip red and swollen. Any other time you’d take him into your mouth, deep enough until he couldn’t form coherent sentences. But you needed this just as he did. The feeling of your touch, the softness of your words as you brought him to his release. Frankie had been so good to you lately. You just wanted to do the same for him.

“Baby,” you said gently, nails scraping against his skin—his stomach jumping slightly as his brown eyes locked with yours. “What do you want?”

“Want you to—” His mouth parted when your nail dragged down the length of his cock, the muscles underneath his skin taught and nearly ready to snap. “Touch me. Please. I need you to…”

He choked, his head falling forward when your hand wrapped around him entirely, tugging gently and ripping another sound from his chest. His teeth dug into his bottom lip, biting down so hard that he nearly drew blood to the surface. There was no denying how gone he was for you. How he’d allowed every wall he once built up to keep people out to come crashing down. All for you.

“So good for me baby.” You pressed your lips to his neck, thumb spreading the pearly drop of precum down his cock. “Look at how pretty you look.”

His eyes fluttered open per your request, a flush spreading through his chest. “Querida—oh fuck, oh god—”

His hips bucked into your hand trying to reach for any friction possible, desperate to chase that building feeling in his stomach. And you let him. You watched transfixed to the mirror as he took his pleasure from you—fucking himself along your palm; unabashed sounds leaving his mouth. Frankie felt like he was fucking transending the clouds in the sky—the high nearly burning his inside as he kept going. Chasing that single feeling with a fervor he’d never experienced before.

“C’mon baby,” you cooed in his ear, teeth closing around the lobe and tugging. “You want to cum all over my hand?”

He nodded frantically, his mouth parted and breaths coming in short. “Uh huh.”

“Be a good boy for me.” You stimulated him, your thumb pressing down on a spot that made his thighs shake—his body nearly folding in on itself. “And look at yourself when you cum.”

As if you held complete control over his body, his eyes flew open—head raising to meet your eyes in the mirror. A smile curved over your lips, so sweet and innocent that he nearly choked on his own spit. There you were getting him off in the filthiest manner possible and you were looking at him like that. Frankie let out a throaty moan, his eyes flickering down to his leaking cock—your thumb spreading along the head, and he felt it.

The tight feeling in his stomach that had been building for so long snapped. Your hand pressed to his chest, practically wrapping yourself around him as he let go—spurting over your hand and on the mirror. Heat flushed through his body, his mind a haze of lust and pleasure combining into one. Yet you never let go. You continued to pump him until pain began to tinge the edges of his vision—burning through him like a wildfire.

“Oh—fuck—” He jolted forward, his hand clambering down to grasp yours as something painful seared through his body. Frankie wasn’t sure if he wanted you to continue or stop altogether.

He’d let you make that choice.

“Did so good for me,” you breathed, pressing a kiss to the patchy spot on his jaw. “How do you feel baby?”

He let out a breath, his head falling against your shoulder. “Fucked.”

You laughed, sliding a hand up his stomach until you felt the familiar thump beneath his chest. “You up for a shower?”

Something flared to life in the back of his mind. A craving that came every time you focused your attention on him. He wasn’t done. Far from it. No, the night wouldn’t come to an end until he had you in his place—begging him for a release.

So he smiled, clasping his hand over yours with a smile. “Absolutely.”

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #frankie morales smut #frankie 'catfish' morales #my writing #pedrostories #kinktober 2023

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psychedelic-ink · 2 years

Text

fuck it I love you.

pairing: frankie "catfish" morales x fem!reader

genre: smut, hurt/comfort

word count: 4.3k

summary: pope's his best friend, he shouldn't get jealous when you talk to him– he really shouldn't. But how can he not when you've been turning a blind eye to all of his all the flirting he's been doing for the past month?

warnings: jealous!frankie, possessive!frankie, reader struggling with self worth, pov switch, cum eating/sharing, oral (receiving), piv, dirty talking, lots of praise, mutual pining, dumb misunderstandings, creampie, nicknames

a/n: this might be one of the filthiest things I've personally written, also this was requested by my beloved @inklore for the prompt "do you think you deserve this?" but since it ended up being longer then a drabble (I have no self control) decided to make it it's own post <3

requests open for pedro pascal characters, moon knight & peter parker 💌

masterlist | AO3

The music in the bar is pleasant, a nice cool breeze blowing from the small fans scattered all around the small, yet cozy, space. Frankie enjoyed coming here. He especially enjoyed it when the company was to his liking. The laughter, the conversations, all of it tickled the inside of his stomach in the most enjoyable way.

Tonight, however, despite having the gang back together, plus you, he doesn’t feel that giddy.

His back is snug against the leather of the booth, the rim of his comically large beer glass touching his bottom lip as he glares at you and Santi. Typically, Frankie isn’t the type to get jealous. He knew Pope was a flirt and that it meant absolutely nothing, being a chivalrous man was as natural to him as breathing. You, on the other hand, wasn’t the type to flirt just because. He isn’t even sure if you are flirting or not. The only thing he does know is that you’re laughing at his unfunny jokes and touching his arm whenever you can. It’s clear to him that you’re tipsy, in all his years of knowing you you had proven to be quite a light weight, but still the closeness the two share annoys him.

It didn’t help that you were staying with them during your visit. Hotels were expensive so of course both him and Santi had offered you to stay. They did have an extra room after all, what’s the point of it if no one stays?

Frankie, unlike his flirtatious best friend, isn’t the best at sweeping someone off their feet but he isn’t the worst either. He’s somewhat aware that he’s easy on the eyes nonetheless he can’t just bat his eyelashes when he wants someone to approach him.

He has… some moves– some of them which he had tried on you during your visit– the aforementioned “moves” consisted of compliments, some light touches here and there yet it was clear to him that you weren’t interested. You didn’t shy away from him but you didn’t exactly do anything either. He just gave up after a while, he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.

Santi, of course, soaked up all of the awkwardness, teasing Frankie whenever the opportunity arose. The asshole even offered to give him lessons in how to woo a woman. Fucking smug bastard.

So yeah, he’s positive Santi’s not actually trying to romanticize you. Sadly, he didn’t share the same confidence when it comes to you.

The crease between his brows deepens when you burst out laughing and drop your head on Santi’s shoulder, your arm thrown around Benny’s neck. Santi briefly glances at Frankie, his lips parting with a chuckle despite the worry written in his eyes. Frankie huffs and lowers his glass back to the table. He needs to leave. Either he leaves or he’s raising hell and that wouldn’t do anything other than make an ass out of himself.

Just as he’s getting up he hears your voice. His ass is left awkwardly hanging an inch up from the booth when he turns his gaze to you.

“Are you leaving?”

Fuck, the soft whine in your tone shoots right to his cock. He licks his lips and nods, trying to ignore the stirring in his lower abdomen.

“Yeah, I’m feeling a bit…tired,”

While sounds of disapproval rise from the rest of the group, Santi only raises an eyebrow. You lift your head up from his shoulder and clumsily get up from your seat, almost knocking one of the glasses over but thankfully Benny moves it just in time.

“I should head back too, I wanna go to the farmers market early in the morning–”

“Pope can drive you back,”

The harshness in his tone not only surprises you but also him. The air stills for a moment, an uncomfortable silence consuming the group. Frankie ignores the way Santi frowns and only focuses on the way your bottom lip quivers, guess his plan about not making an ass of himself failed. Lifting his cap, he cards his hair back and places it back on, he clears his throat.

“I–I need make a couple of stops before heading home, that’s why I–”

You cut him off, your voice dripping with venom.

“It’s okay, I get it if you don’t want me around,”

If what Frankie said didn’t make the atmosphere uncomfortable, what you just said certainly did. His eyebrows disappear under the loose strands of his hair, eyes wide as his lips part in hopes to say anything that might ease the tension rising. Frankie has no idea why you said the thing that you said and he’s not sure if he wants to find you.

In a last ditch effort to salvage the situation, he turns his gaze to Santi, their eyes meet and the other man playfully nudges you in the shoulder.

“Come on cariño, he didn’t mean it like that. You should go,”

Frankie takes a mental note to treat Pope for lunch later.

When he turns back to you, you’re already staring at him, your lips a thin line. After exchanging glances, you nod and side shimmy out of the booth. Frankie groans as you say nothing and head straight for the door.

“Man, that was brutal,” Benny chimes, a soft whistle accompanying his words. “Why did you even say that?”

“Because he’s an idiot,” Santi adds with the roll of his eyes. “That excuse was weak, hermano. Where are you even going to go at this hour?”

“Fuck me if I know. She looked really pissed too– What did she even mean by that? Why wouldn’t I want her around?”

“Maybe because you avoid her like the plague when we’re home?” Santi replies with an amused glance and intoxicating curve of his lips. “If I were you I would start by saying sorry,”

Frankie glances towards the door, the trail you left feels cold, his heart sinks into your chest.

“Yeah, probably. Anyway–”

He places his hand on Santi’s shoulder right before heading towards the door.

“Don’t be late.”

“Pope can drive you back,”

The words still echo in your mind. He was such a slap in the face, you knew something was wrong. You fucking knew it. Even when Santi continuously told you everything was fine, you knew Frankie was angry at you. He had to be by the way he was avoiding you.

And you damn well know why he was acting like that. It’s no secret that you had a minor infatuation with Frankie. You like him, he’s nice, funny and always by your side whenever you felt like the world was burning. The problem is that he sees you only as a friend and nothing more. Which is what you expect, no one ever sees you more than a friend. That’s your role in life. The one no one loves, at least, not in a romantical sense. And when Frankie got a whiff of your emotions, he pulled himself back. Typical. Soon he would outright just stop talking to you. It happened a million times before and it’ll happen a million times after.

Looking up to the dark sky you sigh, the cold begins to seep into your skin, hugging yourself to stay warm you blink rapidly. You want to cry. It’s foolish of you but deep down you had hoped that Frankie would be different, that he would see you for you and love you for you. But you guess that was just a hopeless dream.

A sudden warmth engulfs you and you jump, before you can turn Frankie is walking ahead of you, his jacket draped across your shoulders.

“Let’s go,” he says, voice gruff.

You stay in place for about a second, lips parted as you stare at him. You urge your legs to move but they stay glued to the concrete, your fingers come up to the jacket’s collar and tugs at it. Frankie’s scent files your nostrils, mint with a hint of cinnamon. Your pulse quickens and you take another languid breath of him, a soft moan parts your lips when you drag your attention back to Frankie.

When he notices your lack of presence he turns and tilts his head.

“You coming?”

“Uh, yeah.”

The drive back is awkward. You know it, he knows it.

And just as you suspected, he didn’t have anywhere to go, he just wanted to avoid you.

You don’t say a word as you move past him to go inside, you let your bag fall to the floor and kick off your shoes. When you hear the door closing behind you, you’re already made it halfway to your room.

“Can we talk?” he calls out. “I know I pissed you off, at least let me explain,”

With a broken sigh, you head back. He’s already removed his signature cap, which in return made you realize you still have his jacket across your shoulders. With a grown, you place it on the back of the couch and turn back to him.

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” you say a bit sharper than you initially intended. “I know why you’re trying to avoid me,”

“Avoid you?” he blinks. “This again, I’m not trying to–”

You snort, arms crossed in front of you.

“Yeah right, I’ve done this dance a million times, Frank. Whenever anyone gets a whiff that I like them they decide they want nothing to do with me anymore. I get it. I’m used to it.”

Silence follows and you’re somewhat pleased to cut your losses without completely destroying your heart in the process.

“Is that really what you think?”

You meet his gaze, heart nearly leaping out of your throat at his tone. Anger, you quickly identify. You’ve never heard him like this, voice trembling, a hint of a growl at the end of his sentence.

“I’ve been trying to let you know how I feel since you’ve got here. All you did was ignore me and drool over Pope. I am not the villain. You do not get to make me out to be one when I’ve been trying all this time.”

“I never flirted with him,” you whisper, averting your eyes. “Look, I get it. I do. Really. It’s not your fault, I’m not easy to love but you don’t have to lie about having feelings for me. All you had to do was talk to me. You could’ve told me to back off and I would, I thought we were friends,”

Your vision is blurry when Frankie walks up to you, his hands squeezing your upper arms as a sign that you should look up to him. His gaze is softer now but it’s not enough to heal you. You’re suffocating. You can’t breathe, think, or feel. All you want to do is hide from the world and remove yourself from this situation.

“Listen to me,” he grits his teeth. “I. Am. Not. Lying– Stop selling yourself short. You always do this. Just breathe and think for a moment, why would I lie?”

Wet eyelashes kiss the underside of your eyes, a tear slipping from between them. The world spins, leaving only him and you in the middle of a hurricane. His one hand slides up to cup your cheek, he swipes the tear away with the inside of his thumb. Your chest heaves. Frankie’s leaning in closer and closer, you only realize what his intention is when you feel the firm press of his lips, tenderly moving against yours.

Frankie breathes you in, tongue licking your lips as a silent plea for more. Heart fluttering, you open yourself for him, he mimics your movement, opening his mouth wide while pressing his tongue against yours. His other hand comes up to your other cheek, holding your face tenderly. Tears roll down your cheeks and he kisses them away, his lips wet when they travel back down to meet your own.

“Frankie,” you whisper into his open mouth. “Frankie, I need more,”

He mouths at the underside of your jaw, nipping your skin as he grins. His hands slide down to cup your breast, squeezing them, he coaxes a moan out of you.

“After everything you put me through tonight– After flirting all night in front of me– do you think you deserve it?

“I–I–”

His grin widens at your loss for words, lips still moving across your skin.

“I’m just kidding, mi vida. Thought some humor would lighten the mood,”

The tension you’ve been building up for the past couple of days melts when you feel his lips once more. His open palms smooth over your curves, tongue deep in your mouth as he tastes the silent moans slipping from your lips. You’re unaware he’s leading you somewhere, your feet move without the knowledge of where to go. But you don’t care. Not when his fingers are viciously pulling at your shirt and tugging it over your head, giving you only a moment to breathe before crashing his lips against yours once more.

You’re falling, surroundings nothing but a blur as he sucks you down into the pit of intoxicating lust. You can almost feel the wind grazing against your burning skin–

Wait, you’re actually falling.

A gasp rips from your throat when you find yourself sprawled across the softness of a bed. Despite the blurriness of your eyes, you quickly identify the room not belonging to Frankie but to Santi. Unlike Frankie’s room that smells airy and fresh, Santi’s space smells of smoke and the overwhelming scent of bergamot that belongs to his perfume.

“Fran–shit,”

You’re interrupted by your own moan that suddenly slips from your lips. Frankie’s looking down at you, eyes a shade darker with lust and want. Eyes linger on the thick outline of his cock, his lips curl up, he palms the bulge, slowly and accompanied by the delicious roll of his hips.

“Do you have any idea–” he rasps, hand continuing to stroke his clothed cock. “––how many times I’ve dreamed of this? How I imagined your wet pussy wrapped around my cock, your legs spread wide as I fuck you? Do you know how many times I helplessly humped some pillow just to have some semblance of your presence?”

You moan at his words, the wetness between your legs grows. Just the thought of him moaning and whining while grinding against a pillow, thinking of you, it makes you ache for him even more.

“Does that turn you on?” he muses, undoing the button of your pants and tugging the fabric down. “Me, coming into my fist an ungodly amount of times just thinking of you? Dirty girl,”

His name parts from your lips in the form of a whine.

“Don’t wear out my name just yet, you’ll be screaming it a lot tonight,”

Frankie’s fingers trace the seam of your underwear, he watches the way your thighs tremble for him. He presses his fingers between your clothed folds, feeling the moisture dampening the tips of his fingers.

“Already so wet, I’ve done nothing else other then talk,”

His eyes meet yours, your heart stills at the exchange.

“Do you want me to fuck you on top of Santi’s bed?”

Fuck, you don’t want to answer that, it’s too embarrassing. But despite forcing your lips to stay shut, your body doesn’t get the memo. Heat spurs between your legs, the dark patch on your underwear spreading. He chuckles, eyes never leaving yours as he starts to draw slow circles around your clit– It feels like electricity surging across your body. The pressure builds and you can’t help but raise your hips off of the mattress, meeting the caress of his hand.

“I want to hear it from you baby, say it.”

“I do,” you breathe out. “Please fuck me right here right now,”

“Your wish is my command, princesa. Turn over,”

All thoughts desert you while you shuffle on top of thick sheets. You raise your ass into the air, effectively burying your face into the sheets that smell exactly like Santi. For a split second it confuses you, especially when Frankie’s scent is nowhere similar to his friend.

“You’re perfect,” he hums, hand going up and down your back, feeling the dip of your waist. “So obedient, so generous, so beautiful– Fuck, how could you even think I would want to avoid such a pretty thing,”

The sudden feeling of his cock between your wet folds makes you jump, but he quickly eases you with the tender touch of his lips between your shoulder blades.

“Did you enjoy riling me up all night?” he murmurs. “Well it doesn’t matter. You belong to me don’t you?”

He continues to drag his cock, every time his length brushes the sensitive bundle of nerves you gasp, your body left shivering uncontrollably. His voice is dripping with sin, it’s like having the devil’s tongue licking your ear, you can’t fight it and you don’t want to.

“You’re mine aren’t you?”

“I am– I’m yours Frankie,”

“Good,”

You whine when the warmth of his lips disappear. He kneads the mounds of your ass, groaning at the way your drips across his cock, drenching it with your slick. Your breath is so stuttery that it’s basically just a string of short, sharp breaths. You want him. You need him. The illicit thrill of being fucked on top of Santi’s bed stirs you on, it makes you even more needy and desperate. All you can smell is the bergamot and the heavy scent of your slick. His nails rake across your back, the blunt tip of his cock teasing your entrance.

“You’re shaking,”

He leans in, mouth an inch away from your ear as soft whimpers fall from your lips. You’re on the verge of crying, you want him so bad that it physically hurts.

“Tell me,” his breath ghosts over your damp skin, goosebumps erupting across your body. “Have you ever thought of me while fingering yourself? Did you imagine me fucking you just like this, right on top of my bestfriends bed– Or did you imagine me taking you in the kitchen, is that why you offer to cook everynight? To entice me with a good show of your behind?”

Your defense is violently caught in your throat when he slams all of himself inside you without warning. The thickness of his cock walks the borderline of being painful and pleasurable, choked out breaths tears away from your lungs, the two feelings mixing into a mind numbing sensation. The way your pussy clutches tightly around him makes his hips stutter forward, pushing even deeper as he bites into your shoulder.

“Fuck, baby– You’re gonna make me cum quick if you squeeze like that,”

Mouth parting wide, you moan at his words, your insides fluttering around him. Spit dribbles out from the corner of your lips and wets the sheets underneath. Fuck, Santi was going to be pissed.

“Mine,” he growls, straightening his back and holding your hips. “Mine, mine, mine–”

Your eyes roll back when he starts to move his hips. Cock sliding nearly all the way out before he rocks back into you with full force. But despite all of that, he’s holding back. You can feel it in the way his fingers twitch from where they dig into your hips. The sound of your guttural moans fills the air, a string of curses mixed with his name is screamed into the sheets. Your body is on fire. It turns into an object of desire, a tool for Frankie to use as a means for his own pleasure.

You don’t mind, in fact you want him to take whatever he wants, you would be content with just this. Him, buried deep inside you, all the time. Not another thought lingering in your muddled mind.

Frankie’s falling apart behind you, his own moans catching up to yours. He leans forward, clothed chest flushed against your naked back. You want to feel more of his skin but your pleas for it are nothing but incoherent whines. His arms coil tightly around you like a snake, pulling you even closer as he ruts into you like a wild animal.

You can hear the silent whimpers of ‘mine’ being repeated to you again and again.

Frankie’s about to explode.

You’re squeezing him tight, a sheer coat of your slick forming a ring at the base of his cock. He’s somewhat aware you’re trying to ask for something, and if he wasn’t so far gone into his own pleasure he would tease you to speak up. But with the curve of your ass pressed against his pelvis, his cock coaxing all the sweet noises he wanted to hear since forever…he just can’t think anymore.

He presses wet kisses into your skin. You’re making a mess out of Santi’s sheets, spit and slick dripping out of you like the most beautiful fountain he’s ever seen. In his mind, fucking you right here, on top of his best friend’s bed, solidifies the notion that you belong to him and only him. Fuck, he’s acting like a dog marking it’s territory. It was stupid but the way pleasure rings in his ears makes him think otherwise.

“I’m about to cum,” he groans, the pace of his hips quickening.

Frankie pulls you up with him, hand sprawled across your stomach while the other wraps around your throat. Another moan escapes him when you squeeze around him like some goddamn condiment. He’s surprised when you reach out and grab his wrist, the pressure is enough for him to slow down.

“Frankie…I–I love you, you know that right?”

His eyes widen, heart nearly beating out of his chest as he drags his lips across the column of your neck. He doesn’t want you to think anymore. He wants to fuck every thought out of your pretty head.

Pulling back, Frankie slams his hips, he repeats it, again and again until you’re left a babbling mess. You tighten around him, moans and cries falling from your lips as his cock slides in and out. His lips are latched against your ear, his words practically a growl when he speaks.

“Te amo, con todo, mi vida,”

Your head falls over his shoulder, he mouths the underside of your jaw. He wants to ruin you, he wants to feel the way you convulse around him. His hand slides to your core, drawing quick, small circles around your aching clit. You cry out, panting as you gasp for air.

“Con todo, todo,”

Frankie nearly chokes when you come undone around him. Your tight pussy clenching and gushing while he continues to grind his cock deeper. He keens at the way you desperately throw your arms back and pull his head in a desperate attempt for a kiss. Finding it cute, he allows you to tug him close. He tastes the euphoria on your tongue, it makes his head spin. The pressure inside him builds with each stroke of your tongue, it builds and builds until he can’t take it anymore, every time he thrusts into you his eyes roll back– It takes him one more to follow in your footsteps and cum.

His eyelids flutter as he moans into your open mouth, warmth builds around his cock, hips continuing to push forward while he fills you to the brim. He grits his teeth at the way your insides clamp around him, your moans filling the room.

Frankie gently lays you down on your back. You're breathing heavily, chest heaving as you look up to him. He watches the way your legs part so he could nestle between them, but instead he eats up the sight of his cum dripping out of you. The sight makes his softening cock twitch with interest. A soft whimper falls from you when he presses his lips against the inside of your thigh, mouth leaving a wet trace of open mouthed kisses as it finds your wet core.

Your eyes roll back when you feel the swipe of his tongue, he moans at his own taste, the vibrations making the dwindling rush of your orgasm spiking once again across your body.

He looks up to you, observes the way your brows furrow with pleasure, lips parting in ecstasy as his tongue delves deeper. Gripping your thighs, he gently pushes them over his shoulder, pulling your pussy flush against his hungry lips. You writhe at the building pleasure, legs trembling while he licks you clean.

Sucking more of himself into his mouth, Frankie slides up your body and crushes his lips against yours. When your lips part he pushes the cum into your mouth with his tongue, relishing in the way you moan for him, swallowing hungirly at what he has to offer.

His cock is semi hard when you wrap your legs around his waist, he grins as he pulls back, a look of mischief glittering in his eyes.

“Seems like someone’s eager for another round,”

“It’s just,” you pant, rolling your hips against his cock. “I’ve been waiting for you for so long, I can’t help it. Also–” you fist at his shirt. “I don’t want anything between us, Frankie,”

Just as he leans in to capture your lips, there’s a loud, almost violent, knock at the door.

“You two better get that shit cleaned!” Santi pipes from the other side of the door. “Until then I’ll take the guest bedroom– For fuck’s sake, after all the trouble I’ve been through to get you guys together. Un-fucking-believable,”

“Whoops,” Frankie mutters against your lips, his grin wide. “So where were we?”

“We should–”

“We’ll apologize to him tomorrow,” he cuts you off, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “You should focus on me, mocosa,”

“Alright,” you whisper with a smile. “You’re all that matter to me, nothing else,”

Frankie decorates your face with fleeting, soft kisses. His heart practically melts at the words–

“Wait, did you just call me a brat?”

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2K notes · View notes

sofiaispunk · 11 months

Note

Hot priest Morales. Thats it. that's the request

btw love your dbf series!

Sacred Temptations

pairings: priest!Francisco Morales x Reader AU

a/n: Thank you so much, beautiful! fuck YESSS hot priest Morales is making me feel all kind of things rn. I immediately pictured him as Pedro at the Oscars with his white slutty little buttonup. Thank you for your request! I really appreciate you and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think and if I should make a part 2 maybe?

words: 2k

warnings: religion, smut, flirting, forbidden romance, bratty reader, blasphemy, inappropriate behavior, 18+

You reluctantly followed your parents' lead as they made their way to the local church for Sunday mass. Your outfit for the day reflected your style and individuality, a short blush dress, which barely covered your body. The dress had delicate ruffles along the hemline, adding a touch of femininity to your attire. You paired it with a light cardigan, casually draped over your shoulders, providing at least a bit modesty.

Throughout your life, you had never been particularly fond of churches. The rigid traditions, the solemn rituals - they had always felt foreign to your free-spirited nature. Sunday mornings were often spent indulging in your own pursuits, watching Netflix, brunching with friends or lazily laying in bed, far removed from the pews and hymns.

However, as you returned from college for the summer, something within you had shifted.

Perhaps it was the newfound sense of maturity or maybe it was the desire to reconnect with your roots and understand your own beliefs better. Whatever the reason, you made a conscious decision to join your parents on their weekly visit to church.

As you entered the church, your eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the ornate stained glass windows, the flickering candlelight, and the peaceful atmosphere. Amidst the congregation, your gaze fell upon the priest, who stood at the pulpit, preparing to deliver the sermon.

You found yourself momentarily drawn to his presence, observing how he engaged with the congregation, his gestures emphasizing his words, and his voice carrying a soothing tone. His light brown hair, sleekly gelled back, added a touch of refinement to his overall look. However, scattered throughout his hair were subtle streaks of grey, hinting at the wisdom and experience he possessed.

A neatly trimmed, patchy beard adorned his face, accentuating his rugged charm. It framed his jawline, which was sharp and defined, lending him an air of strength and determination. His broad shoulders hinted at physical presence, giving him a commanding stance as he stood before the congregation.

Curiosity gnawing at you, you turned to your mother, who sat beside you , and leaned in to whisper a question. "Mom, who is the new priest? I don't think I've seen him before."

Your mother, engrossed in the beginning of the service, momentarily glanced at you and then followed your gaze toward the young priest. With a warm smile, she whispered back, "That's Father Francisco. He recently joined our parish. He is a lovely man. Father Francisco has been a guiding light for our community. He's been instrumental in organizing outreach programs, helping the less fortunate, and supporting charitable initiatives. The impact he's made on our community is truly inspiring and a true blessing.”

You nodded, taking in your mother's words. The intrigue surrounding Francisco only intensified as you listened to your mother's description.

As the Sunday service progressed, you couldn't help but feel a peculiar sensation, as if you were being watched. You shifted your gaze and found yourself locking eyes with Father Francisco. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as your gazes met, and an unspoken connection seemed to form.

Surprised by the intensity of the eye contact, a familiar heat rose in your core. However, instead of looking away, you felt an unexpected surge of boldness within you. Perhaps it was the curiosity sparked by your doubts, or the desire to seek answers, but you decided to seize the opportunity and act upon this newfound courage.

Determined to engage in a conversation with Father Francisco, you waited until the end of the service when the parishioners started dispersing. As people began to leave the pews, you approached the young priest, your steps deliberate and your mind racing with desire.

With a deep breath, you stood before Father Francisco, and mustered the courage to initiate a conversation.

"Father Francisco," you began, your voice steady and lower as usual. “I was hoping you could spare a moment of your time.”

“Of course, my child. What can I do for you? I believe we have never met before.”

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you challenged Father Francisco's claim of not seeing you before.

“Father, are you truly suggesting that you haven't laid eyes on me in this sacred space until now? I find that hard to believe. Perhaps I simply didn't catch your attention until today.” you laid it on thick, making sure to flutter your eyelashes innocently.

“My apologies for not giving you the attention you deserve. It seems I'll have to make amends for that oversight. But I assure you, I am honored to make your acquaintance now.” The corners of his mouth curved into a gentle smile, his eyes mirroring the twinkle of your own.

You leaned in in slightly, the playful tone never leaving your voice. “Well, Father, it appears that divine intervention has finally led you to notice my presence. I must say, it's quite flattering to have captured the attention of such a captivating priest.”

“Ah, I don‘t think flattery will get you anywhere. But what is it you wanted to talk to me about, my child?“ he smiled at you, the corner of his eyes crinkling.

“There’s something plaquing my mind lately, something I haven't experienced in a long time. I'm not familiar with the process of confession. And I was wondering if you could help me, confess my sins?“ you asked innocently, your teeth grazing your bottom lip while your fingers played with the hem of your dress.

“I see. Come to the confessional after next week's mass. We can sit down and discuss the things that weigh heavily on your heart.” As he began to respond, your conversation was unexpectedly interrupted by a line of people forming, seeking his guidance and counsel. You, understanding the demands on the priest's time, gracefully stepped back.

“Well, Father, it seems you are a man in demand. I won't keep you from attending to the needs of your flock. I’ll see you next week, then.”

You offered a playful wink before making your way out of the church, subtly swaying your hips.

Surprising your parents, who had grown accustomed to your reluctance to attend church voluntarily, you made your way to the church the following Sunday. Feeling bold and sexy you opted for a green two-piece lingerie set adorned with subtle lace details, which flattered your skin tone perfectly. You threw on a modest high neck white dress on top which made you appear extra innocent.

Seating yourself in the front row, like a diligent Christian, you eagerly awaited the arrival of Father Francisco.

The Sunday mass took place as usual, without any noteworthy incidents.

Midway through the service, though, you uncrossed your legs, inadvertently capturing Father Francisco's attention, causing a faint blush to color his cheeks. His words momentarily faltered, a subtle indication that your presence had made an impact.

Father Francisco regained his composure, seamlessly continuing the service with his priestly duties. Though his gaze occasionally drifted towards you, he maintained his professionalism, determined to carry out his responsibilities.

You, too, were aware of the effect you had on the priest. A playful smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you observed his momentary distraction.

After the last strains of the closing hymn faded away, and the majority of the parishioners left the church, you seized the opportunity to approach the confessional. With each step, your heart beat a little faster, a mix of nervousness and anticipation filling you.

The confessional stood at the back of the church, tucked away in a quiet corner. Its wooden structure, weathered with time, carried an air of solemnity and reverence.

You approached the confessional, noticing the ornately carved wooden door adorned with intricate religious symbols. You reached out, your hand trembling slightly, and gently pushing it open. The door creaked softly, as if welcoming you into its sacred confines.

Inside, the confessional revealed two compartments separated by a latticed screen—a space for the penitent and a space for the priest. Soft, golden light filtered through stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns onto the wooden panels.

Taking a seat on the worn cushioned bench, you found yourself enveloped in a sense of hushed tranquility.

In the dimly lit space, you could make out the faint silhouette of the priest's side.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned. That’s what I am supposed to say, right?” you said, your voice hushed, almost sensual.

“Lately, my thoughts have wandered to someone who is unattainable. Someone who is meant to inspire and guide, yet remains just out of reach. But I can’t help it, I can’t seem to stop thinking about him at night, think about his big hands and how they would feel on me. About how his big cock would feel deep inside of me. These impure thoughts plague me at night, but they plaque you too, don’t they, daddy?“

Your breathing became heavier as you continue. “Tell me, do you think about me? About your big dick filling up my tight little cunt. Putting your big hands in to my little panties, working me open with those thick fingers of yours. Tell me, Frankie, how badly you want to fuck me. “You shifted on your seat, your thighs rubbing together relieving some of the tension, your own words riling you up. “I can be your little good girl, you know. Just say the words.”

You sank deeper into the plush cushions, Slick arousal pooling in your panties at the thought of him being only a few inches away from you. The tension and the longing became too strong, and you slipped your hand under your already soaked panties. You let out a small whimper as you dragged your wetness up to your clit, rubbing small circles on it. “Oh, fuck Frankie. I am so wet for you. “ you let head fall back, moaning his name loudly. “Can you hear how wet I am? Just let me sit on your face, Frankie. I want to make your whole face wet with my juices. “ You pant, unable to believe that you are so close to cumming after such little time of playing with yourself.

In an act of playful audacity, you reached down and slid your now ruined panties down your legs. With a sly grin, you slipped the fabric through the narrow slit, allowing it to dangle enticingly between the little gate that separated you from the priest.

You held your breath, anticipation mingling with a hint of nervous excitement, hoping you didn’t go too far this time. Moments stretched into eternity as you waited for a response, your heart beat thundering louder with every passing second. Then, amidst the silence, you watched as the priest's hand reached through the small slit and carefully retrieved the green lacy piece you offered. A faint rustle accompanied the movement, and then, silence enveloped the confessional once more .

But it was not the quiet that captured your attention; it was the deep, audible inhale that followed, that made another flood of arousal coat your fingers.

Then, only mere moments later you could hear his sounds. Lustful groans filled the small space.

The furious slapping of his fist as he worked his cock made the tension coil in your own stomach. “Tell me what you want Frankie, you want me on my knees, huh, worshipping your cock?” another loud grunt. “Ahhh, yah that’s it. I wish my mouth was on that dick too, baby. I want to swirl my tongue around it. I bet your cock tastes fucking amazing. I’m going to drain every last ounce of cum out of you.”

“Oh, God,” he let out one final strangled sound that almost sounded like he was in pain, reaching his climax. You followed soon after, clenching down on your fingers hard, shouting out his his name.

As you both came down from your high, only your breaths were audible.

“I'm not quite familiar with how this whole confession thing works. Do I need to say a dozen "Hail Marys" or perform a few extra penances to make up for that?” you asked innocently, awaiting his answer, but you were only met with, once again, silence.

Suddenly the heavy wooden door separating you swung open, revealing Father Francisco standing before you. His gaze intense and focused solely on you, “No.” he growled, letting out a low, almost predatory laugh, “that’s only reserved for good girls.”

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flightlessangelwings · 2 years

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Kinktober Day 15- Overstimulation

Frankie Morales x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count- 1.6k

Warnings- smut (18+ only), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, established relationship, no plot, aftercare

Notes- All hail Frankie the pussy eating king!! I’m glad I swapped him out for Marcus M cause this works perfectly for our beloved Frankie!! I think y’all are really gonna enjoy this one too!! List provided by the lovely @the-purity-pen!

To say up to date on when I post, follow my update blog too and turn on post notifications @flightlessangelwings-updates. Reblogs highly appreciated!

“Oh God… Frankie…”

He hummed into you as he used his large, strong hands to keep your thighs parted. Frankie made the most obscene noises as he licked and slurped at you with abandon. Even after you already came once, he still didn’t let up and he devoured you like you were a warm meal on a cold winter’s night.

“Frankie… fuck…” you cried out as he licked along your folds and sucked at your clit.

You buried your hands in his hair and tugged as he moaned into you. The hum only added to the sensations as you lost yourself in him. Frankie sucked at your pussy greedily, and the loud noise echoed in the room, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was you and your pleasure.

“Frankie… I’m…” you panted as warmth spread across your entire body.

In response, he only tightened his grip on you and licked at you more, determined to make you cum again on his tongue. Your legs shook under his grip as his tongue flicked your clit over and over again at just the right angle. It didn’t take long for your orgasm to crash onto you and with a loud scream and a tug on his hair you came hard into his mouth.

Breathless, you flopped down limp onto the bed as Frankie finally broke away from your cunt with one last tender kiss. Heavy breaths from both of you filled the room as Frankie lifted himself onto his elbows to watch you as you came down from your high… highs.

“You ok, baby?’ he asked as he caressed your leg.

You blinked your eyes open and gasped when you saw Frankie. He had a glazed over expression, almost as if he was drunk, and his chin glistened from your juices. He had a look in his eyes that resembled a wild cat about to pounce on its prey and his broad chest rose and fell with his deep breaths.

“Fucking hell, Frankie,” you sighed as you collapsed down onto your back again.

Frankie laughed as he looked you over and took in the sight of you like this. But, as exhausted as you were, Frankie still wanted more. He craved you like a cat craved catnip, he needed you more than he needed air. And in this case, he felt that quite literally.

“Baby,” he cooed, “I gotta taste you again.”

“Again?!” you exclaimed as you shot back up. But when you saw the look in his eyes, you melted. You could never say no to those big brown eyes, and you knew how lucky you were to have a man that wanted to eat you out so much. In fact, Frankie seemed to like doing that more than anything else, even at the expense of his own pleasure. He seemed to actually take pleasure in giving you pleasure.

“If you want to stop we can…”

“No,” you interrupted him and reached out and cupped his face, “I just needed a second to catch my breath,” you grinned, “You’re too good at this, Francisco Morales,” you pulled him close to you and kissed him deeply.

Frankie chuckled into your mouth, “I live to serve, baby,” he joked before he broke away and settled between your legs again, “But say the word if it gets too much, and I’ll stop. Ok baby?”

You grinned brightly, “Ok,” suddenly you never wanted him to stop.

“Good,” his tone dropped as he grabbed your leg and hiked it over his shoulder, causing you to squeal in surprise, “Because I don’t wanna stop.”

Frankie dove into your pussy again and licked and sucked at you with a newfound need. You threw your head back and let out a loud scream as he ran his tongue along your already sensitive cunt. He licked and sucked so hard that for a moment you thought he was trying to suck your soul out of your body.

And when your next climax crashed into you, it felt like he was. You screamed even louder as your body trembled as you came hard. Your hands clawed at the sheets on either side of you as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

But, Frankie still didn’t let up. He broke away for just a moment to look up at you, and when you lifted your head and saw the absolutely blissed out expression on his face, you knew you were in for a long night.

“Fuck you taste so good,” he groaned before he buried his head between your legs again.

You cried out as tears filled your eyes. After having cum three times already, you felt hot and overwhelmed, but in the best way possible. You knew you were safe in Frankie’s hands, and you trusted him with everything you had. And although you felt so overstimulated already, the bliss that was Frankie’s tongue still gave you a pleasure unlike anything you had ever experienced before.

And you craved more just as much as he did.

Frankie swirled his tongue around your clit a few times before he wrapped his lips around it and sucked hard. He rocked his head up and down as he licked along your folds, determined to reach every spot possible that could give you pleasure. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of you, and making you feel good gave him a rush that nothing else could.

You moved your hands and buried them in his hair once more as you felt your body tremble. Frankie groaned as he tugged your other leg over his shoulder and grabbed onto your hips tighter to hold you in place. You felt so wonderfully helpless, yet perfectly safe at the same time.

“Fuck… Frankie…” was all you could get out before another orgasm crashed through you.

This time, Frankie didn’t let up and he kept going as he worked you through your climax and right into the next one. He bucked his hips against the bed as he cock strained while he continued to lick and suck at your pussy. It didn’t take long for you to cum again on his tongue.

When you whimpered, Frankie broke away and watched you for a moment as you caught your breath. His hands stayed on your hips for a moment before he moved them down to grab your ass. With an amazing feat of strength, Frankie lifted your hips up just a few inches to position your pussy closer to his face.

“Baby,” he murmured, “Can you give me one more, baby?”

You kept your eyes closed and your head down, but you caressed his head gently, “I think so,” you whispered.

He could tell you were nearing your limit, but Frankie wanted to make sure you were alright before he gave into his greed and ate you out just a little bit longer, “You sure, baby?”

You patted his head, “I’m sure,” you found your voice, “One last one, Morales, give me all you got,” you added with a smirk.

“Be careful what you wish for, baby,” he grinned before he dove back into you.

At this new angle, Frankie was able to better hit your clit with his tongue, and you screamed out when he sucked hard on you. He slurped at you like an ice cream on a hot day before he dipped his head down a bit and darted his tongue in and out of your entrance. The new angle and the new sensations drove you wild, and you laid out contently helpless in his arms.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as your mind swam in ecstasy. You felt like you were on fire, and the only one that could put it out was Frankie. You felt like you would float away if it wasn’t for his strong grip on you, but you knew he would never let you go. As your emotions ran high, you felt your climax once again quickly build up within you.

“Frankie… You’re gonna make me… Fuck!”

You trembled as you shook in his grasp and came even harder than before somehow. Frankie moaned into your pussy as he bucked his hips against the bed and never let up his relentless pace with his tongue. As you gushed into his mouth, Frankie too felt his own release and as he rocked against the bed he spilled himself onto the sheets, finally ready to let go after hours of being between your legs.

Once you let out a loud whimper, Frankie finally let you go and carefully let you back down onto the bed. He quickly crawled up to lay next to you and wrapped his arms around you. Together, the two of you laid in a comfortable silence as you recovered from such an intense night.

“You ok, baby?” Frankie asked as he cradled you close, “I didn’t get too carried away?”

“You got carried away alright,” you retorted back with surprising wit for how tired you were, “But that was fucking amazing,” you added in a dreamy voice, “You’re amazing.”

Frankie let go of his breath and sighed with a smile on his face, “No, you’re amazing, baby.”

You hummed as you settled against his chest and listened to the sound of his pounding heartbeat. You were just about to fall asleep when you suddenly realized, “Wait,” you shot up, “What about you?”

A tinge of embarrassment came across his face, “Taking care of you… took care of me,” he admitted.

Your mouth dropped open for a moment before you grabbed his face and kissed him deeply, “You’re a menace, Francisco Morales,” you murmured against him, “But I fucking love you for it.”

Frankie chuckled, “I fucking love you too baby,” he smirked devilishly, “With the tastiest pussy on the planet.”

“Frankie!” you smacked him playfully, “I’ll get you back for that,” you said as you settled back down in his arms.

“Looking forward to it, baby.”

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scrambledslut · 1 year

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whiskeyncoke-redux · 1 year

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Wow so many people hate when others just write self-indulgent fics. Apparently no one can have fun on this trash site anymore huh?

I'm only saying this because I just saw yet ANOTHER post bitching about something other people enjoy.

Whatever happened to "if you don't like it, don't read it/keep scrolling?"

So I'm here to say this: Life is short so write or read as many self-indulgent RPF fics you want. Don't let anyone stop you from enjoying anything.

Cuz honestly y'all out here complaining really just remind me of this:

#lauren rambles #fuck y'all let people enjoy things #pedro pascal #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fan fiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal rpf #rpf #joel miller #din djarin #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #dave york #agent whiskey #oberyn martell

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polaroidpascal · 2 months

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girls night out || frankie morales

AO3 || MASTERLIST

pairing : frankie morales x f!reader

summary : after spending a night out for your friend’s birthday, you try to sneak back into the house without disturbing frankie. you thought he was a heavy sleeper, but your mischievous boyfriend never fails to surprise you.

tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, frankie being positively down bad for you, bar outing, alcohol consumption, reader is aware of her decisions and everyone is consenting, mechanical bull shenanigans, p in v sex (practice safe!!), grinding, riding, frankie has a filthy mouth full of praises, lotsss of nicknames, sweet aftercare bc its frankie and he's a sweetheart ofc

WC : ~3k

a/n : happy frankie friday loves !! hope you enjoy 🤭

“What bar is it again?” Frankie calls from the living room.

“It’s called ‘Deo Drinks,” you reply. “Apparently it’s new in town. Anna said she wanted to see what all the fuss is about. Supposed to be pretty nice.”

Tonight is your friend Anna’s birthday, and she wanted to take all of her best friends on a night out to a new local bar that popped up recently. According to her, it’s a nicer venue (as far as bars go, at least), so she suggested that everyone get dressed up nice for the fun of it. You look down when your phone dings, a message from Anna saying:

make sure your outfit is still practical tho! there’s something at the bar i want everyone to try <3

So here you are on a Friday evening, standing in front of your bathroom mirror perfecting your eyeliner, adjusting your hair, waiting to be picked up by your friends. You hear hefty footsteps traversing the hallway, getting closer and closer to your ensuite. You look in the mirror over your shoulder as Frankie rounds the corner. “Hey, check out these pictures of the bar—”

He cuts himself off when he finally looks up to see you. You’re wearing a sheer sparkling black shirt with a simple black tank-top underneath all tucked into your skinny jeans, the whole outfit being tied together with beautifully shiny jewelry and a pair of black heeled ankle boots. In the mirror, you catch his gaze as his eyes size you up and down, unable to pry them from all of the sparkles. You turn around and his eyes finally meet yours.

“Well? What do you think?”

“Baby… you look beautiful,” he says walking toward you, his eyes leaving yours and continuing up and down your body again. “I mean, you always do, but…” His hands trail up to rest at your hips, holding you at a distance so he can look at you.

You stare at his expression until he’s looking at you again, studying your makeup as his pupils visibly grow. You never get tired of watching your effect on him. You finally ask, “So, those pictures?”

“O-oh, right,” he stammers and brings his phone up. “There’s not very many since it’s so new, but I figured you might want to see anyway. Looks pretty cute.” You can hear the small smile creeping on his lips as you watch him scroll through the pictures. You look up again and smile at him, leaning in for a long, sweet kiss. His hands drop down to your waist to bring you closer to his body, but before he can take it further, you both hear the unmistakable sound of a car horn outside.

“That’s them,” you say, breaking away.

He steals another kiss, humming in protest before freeing you from his grip and smiling down at you. “Go ahead, then. Go have fun.” You smile back, turning away. He playfully smacks your ass and you yelp from surprise.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

You look back and give him a wink.

Your friend Emily drives the group to the bar, opting to be the designated driver for the night. Pulling up to the bar, you see the sign and decorations on the building: the bright red neon sign illuminating your face, wooden planks lining the building, and old, fake wooden shutters on the windows. Of course, you think. “‘Deo” for rodeo. It’s a western bar.

Suddenly, your phone goes off again:

Have a good time princess. I’ll be awake to let you in the house later, so call me when you’re on your way. Love you, don’t get too fucked up :)

You chuckle and send back a quick “will do, love you too!” before you walk in with your friends.

The rest of the night is a blast. You learn a few line dances from the regulars in the bar, eat food that’s honestly better than you expected, and drink probably a few too many shots and mixed drinks with the group.

“Guys!” Anna yells, obviously feeling the alcohol at this point. “I can’t believe I almost forgot!” She huddles you all together and leans in so everyone can hear better. “There’s a mechanical bull towards the back. I want everyone to try!”

You make your way towards the back and see that, surprisingly, there aren’t many people back here. You approach the bull and everyone lines up for a turn. One by one, you all get on and see how long you can last. When your turn comes, you get an idea. You hand your phone to Emily, the only sober one of the bunch, and ask, “Could you record my turn for me?” She kindly agrees, taking your phone as you kick off your boots and mount the bull.

Back home, Frankie lounges on the couch relaxing in his sweats and a t-shirt, watching some random movie he found. When his phone chimes, he sits up to grab it, sees it’s from you, and opens the message to a video. Before he can even press play, his eyes go wide.

No fucking way…

He sits up a little straighter and presses play, watching you with bewilderment as you straddle the mechanical bull, meeting every one of its jerks with an equal but opposite rebuttal. He stares at your hips swaying perfectly to keep your balance and your free hand in the air as you exclaim, your friends in the background cheering in excitement. Frankie gazes at your shocked expression. Of course, she’s a natural. He knows exactly why you’re so good at the game, even if you might not.

You ride it so well, but I’d expect nothing less from you ;)

As if he’s being broken from a trance, he notices his sweats feel unusually tight and sees a bulge slowly growing between his legs. He curses the universe that he’s not there with you right now. Though, he probably wouldn’t be able to contain himself anyway, so maybe it’s for the best. He decides that what he really needs is a shower to take care of his… issue.

But nothing will keep that video off his mind for the rest of the night.

By the end of the outing, the only one who can reliably hold her footing is Emily. Birthday girl Anna is by far the drunkest of the bunch, and while you are really not that far behind her, you might be holding your liquor the best of the group. Emily rallies everyone in the car for a ride filled with loud karaoke and copious slurred compliments to each other as she chauffeurs each girl back to their house. You are the second to last passenger to be dropped off, but Emily had planned on staying at Anna’s house anyway, so you were the last stop.

“Do you need me to walk you in?” she asks with a gentle smile through the open window.

“No, no, ‘s okay. Frankie said he left the door open… or something. I don’t remember.” His text from earlier completely slips your mind. “I think he’s sleeping anyway,” you continue with a giggle.

“Okay, I’ll stay here until I see the door close behind you just to make sure you make it in. Goodnight!” she replies.

“G’night!” you say, turning around and making your way to the door. You turn the doorknob as slow as you can and find that Frankie did in fact leave it open for you, but when you walk in, most of the lights are already turned off. You turn and wave to Emily as she pulls off, closing the front door as slowly and quietly as you can. You slip off your boots and leave them at the door, shuffling over to the kitchen to pour a glass of water.

You creep back to your bedroom in methodic yet messy steps, reaching your bathroom. You smear a makeup wipe across your face in a lazy, drunken attempt to clean it up a little and slip into some random comfy clothes that you aren’t sure are yours or Frankie’s, but you don’t really care. Gazing into your bed, you see Frankie’s silhouette, laying on his side under the covers, and you feel a warmth bloom in your chest, thinking about how lucky you feel being able to come home to him.

As you reach down to climb into bed, every intention to spoon Frankie until you fall asleep, you’re interrupted by a hand gently grabbing your forearm. You let out a tiny gasp of surprise. “Frankie?”

“Hey, sweetheart. You made it home alright,” he says sweetly, turning over and sitting up some.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“Did you really think I’d go to sleep before I made sure you got home safe?”

You look down a bit, suddenly remembering his text from earlier. “Hmm… no, I guess not. But I definitely forgot you told me you’d be up,” you reply bashfully.

“I heard you as soon as you walked through the door, anyway.” A grin breaks out across his mouth.

Your eyebrows raise, surprised. “Really?”

He lets out a chuckle. “I know you tried, but you weren’t really that good at keeping the noise down.”

You look down and giggle too. You really thought you were being quiet.

“Plus,” he continues, “I couldn’t sleep if I tried, thinking about that goddamn video you sent earlier.”

You think for a second and remember. Ohh, the bull. You grin back at him seeing his eyes grow dark merely remembering it. And now that you’re finally back in front of him, he’s ravenous. “Oh really?” you tease. “You liked it?”

“Liked it? Baby…” he says, reaching up to grab your sides and pull you closer into a gentle but hungry kiss. He pulls away, his lips mere centimeters from yours, and whispers, “You wanna show me how you did it?”

You see a glimmer of desperation in his eyes underneath his playful tone and nod. He kisses you again, a little sloppier this time as he guides you to straddle him. You lean down and melt into his lips, your tongues waltzing together. You can already feel the outline of his cock stiffening up in his pants and you subconsciously guide your hips up and down the growing bulge.

He growls into your mouth and you swallow the noise, suddenly aware of the warm wetness growing between your legs. You keep grinding, feeling him get harder and harder, moving your kisses across his cheek and down his jaw. He groans as you lick the muscle flexing on his neck when he tilts back to give you better access. You kiss back up to his ear, nipping at the lobe and whisper softly, “Touch me, Frankie…”

His hands wander down from your face to the bottom of your shirt and he pulls it off over your head freeing your tits to the colder air of the room. His lips immediately attach to you, licking and sucking at your nipple and drawing sweet moans from your lips. He hums back at you, the vibrations reverberating against your skin and moving down between your legs as another wave of wetness fills your panties.

“Frankie… need you inside…” you whine, his tongue furiously working against the hardening bud. “Please…”

“Mmm, always such a needy girl,” he says. “Be a little patient. I missed you.” He helps you out of your soaked underwear and sees just how wet you are. “Fuck princess, you really are needy…”

His hand resting on your hip glides over to your middle, his thumb ghosting over your clit as your hips buck forward chasing the new sensation. You whine as he slowly, agonizingly teases the sensitive bundle of nerves and stares at your face watching it contort with pleasure.

“Yes, Frankie… needy jus’ for you… all you…” you whimper breathlessly at his touch. He loves when you’re like this, losing yourself to the sensations he gives you, soaking him with your slick. He can feel your wetness soaking through his sweats as your naked core rubs against his fingers and clothed cock.

“Goddamn, gorgeous. Feels good, doesn’t it?” he teases, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, please…” you mewl. You keep grinding against him, the pressure in your lower belly building quicker and quicker. “Fill me up… please… wanna come on your cock…”

A guttural moan rumbles in his chest at that and he lifts you slightly to free his throbbing cock from his pants, precome already making the tip sparkle. He loses the pants completely and he guides you to lower down onto him. “Thaaat’s it baby… fuck, feel so good and warm,” he encourages, your walls welcoming him with every inch added inside. You gasp and moan at the stretch despite being so wet that you’re practically dripping for him. You quickly settle and feel positively stuffed. “Perfect fit. Pussy was made for me, princess.” He brings you down for a deep kiss before he says, “Now, show me how you rode that bull.”

You sit up and rest your hands on his chest for support as you slowly rock your hips forward and backward, gripping his shirt as you go. Sinful moans fill the room when you glide forward feeling the skin on his belly rub perfectly against your clit at the same time. “Fuck, Frankie…”

“Doing so good princess,” he praises, using his hands on your hips to help guide you back and forth, encouraging you to slowly pick up speed. “Yeah, ride me like you rode that bull, baby. Fuck… show me how good you are.” You sit up and pick up speed a bit at the praises he gives you, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. “Yes, beautiful. You’re so good. Gonna come on my cock baby?”

Your walls flutter around him and he groans at the feeling. “Mhm,” you reply in a high-pitched whine and a nod. You claw at his shirt wanting to feel his skin. “Want this off. Wanna feel you.”

Frankie lifts up a little, ripping the shirt off his body and tossing it off the bed. Your hands roam his chest, feeling him up and down. Your face contorts at the sudden tightness in your abdomen. “Gonna come for you… oh my god…”

“That’s it, keep going… come for me baby, let me feel you squeeze me.. so good…” Frankie drives his hips up just a little as you grind yourself to a shaking orgasm on top of him, crying out in pleasure and collapsing onto his chest. He wraps his arms around you and keeps fucking into you, letting you ride out your orgasm on top of him.

He keeps going, slower now as you come down from your high, holding you in place with those perfectly muscular arms. “My good little cowgirl, wish I could have been there to watch you earlier,” Frankie praises as he moves and you’re teetering on the edge of overstimulation. While you’re still a little dazed from the booze, your senses are heightened nonetheless, and he fills them all. His scent fills your nose as you bury it into the crook of his neck, you feel his burning touch wrapped around your body, and you hear the sweet sounds and praises he mutters into your ear.

“Frankie… ‘m gonna come again…” you manage to whimper out.

“Already princess? Feels that good, huh?” he teases, but he’s barely holding on himself. You can feel the unmistakable throbbing of his cock inside of you. “Go ahead, baby. Come on my cock… not gonna last too much longer either…”

The rolling waves of pleasure overtake you quicker than you thought they would. Without a chance to warn him, you convulse under his touch, soaking him in your pleasure and writhing on top of him. Your muffled cries fill the room and send Frankie into a frenzy, fucking into you with sloppy, hard thrusts.

“Fuck yes, baby… ’m so close… my little cowgirl, ride me so good… fuck!” he yells and quickly pulls out, dropping one hand from around your body to pump his length, spilling all over his stomach in between your bodies. His legs shake and so do yours, barely able to keep yourself hovered over him. You meet his grunting with your own whimpering as you both pant your way through the aftershocks of your orgasms.

You stay laying on his chest, still held there by Frankie’s other arm and panting into his neck. Your tired eyes stay closed and you just want to lay right here on top of him with his sticky mess between you both. And you do, for a while, Frankie unable to completely catch his breath from the ride you just gave him, until he finally chirps up, “I knew you’d be an expert, princess.”

You smile and giggle. You remember hoping earlier when you sent him that video that it would drive him crazy like this, and your plan worked. “Knew you’d wanna see it first hand,” you murmur through tiredness, lingering alcohol, and complete fucked-out bliss.

He gently flips you over and lays you in the bed, getting up to retrieve a towel and clean up his mess. He wipes his stomach walking back over to the bed and gently does the same to you, pressing a kiss right below your belly button. You hum quietly and he gives you another kiss on your forehead. When Frankie climbs back into bed, you tuck yourself into his arms getting swallowed in his embrace, both of you wiggling into a comfortable position before you sigh, satisfied in every way you possibly could be.

“Goodnight, cowgirl,” he whispers and kisses the top of your head. He can tell from the feeble attempt at a response that you’re nearly asleep, and he hugs you a little tighter before you both doze off together.

a/n : could possibly have a fluffy little sequel for this if anyone would ever maybe want that...

#francisco catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #im nothing if not delusional

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