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pin-k-ink · 1 month

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saccharine // kozume kenma

tw ⇢ friends to lovers, making out, so much spit, hair pulling, food kink(?), hands free orgasm, just pure filth

wc ⇢ 3.4k

Kenma was utterly immersed in the virtual world displayed across his gaming monitor, fingers flying in dexterous motions as he maneuvered through each intense level. The vibrant colors and frenetic action held his focus in an unwavering trance, shutting out all external stimuli and distraction with ease. He was in his own insular bubble, mind narrowed to the singular objective unfolding pixel-by-pixel before him.

So thoroughly zoned in was Kenma that the faint creak of his bedroom door swinging open on its hinges barely even registered through his fixated haze at first. It wasn't until the soft thud of footsteps sounded, infiltrating the periphery of his gaming cocoon, that his brow furrowed ever so slightly in a subtle break of concentration.

Kenma felt his shoulders tighten a fraction as the additional presence within his space slowly penetrated through to his consciousness. With obvious reluctance, he tore his keen gaze away from the rapidly flickering screen to locate the source of this intrusion into his hard-won solitude.

Standing just inside the doorway was none other than you - looking perfectly at home despite having let yourself into his private sanctuary so casually. There was already a lazy, contented smile curling the corners of your mouth upwards as you regarded Kenma with that soft, unassuming warmth he secretly found so disarming. You looked slightly rumpled, as if you'd just arrived back from a long day out, but your entire energy exuded the kind of earthy comfort that always seemed to counterbalance Kenma's own more aloof aura so well.

As his slowly refocusing eyes drifted down, Kenma couldn't help but zero in on the crinkled plastic convenience store bag gripped loosely in one of your hands. He felt his lips pursing in a subtle moue, knowing without needing to ask that the mysterious parcel was no doubt stuffed full of all manner of highly processed, tooth-achingly sweet snacks and candies - the kind designed to incite nostalgic cravings in anyone who'd ever grown up as a sugar-fueled ball of youthful energy.

"Hey," you called out, voice light and laced with that melodic lilt of amusement that Kenma secretly catalogued as one of his favorite inflections from you. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything too intense over here."

As if in direct answer to your playful query, the muted barrage of synthesized explosions and combat effects issued forth from Kenma's computer speakers - temporarily overridden in volume by your arrival. Kenma felt one eyebrow quirking upwards as you simply laughed, completely unoffended as you strode further into his room with all the casual confidence of someone fully assured in their welcome.

Which, to be fair, you always had been. Even when Kenma was at his most brooding or socially awkward, you'd never seemed fazed by his prickly exterior. Your relationship was quite simply one of easy equanimity, a perfectly counterbalanced orbit of push and pull that you both navigated through unconscious instinct at this point. No pretense or strain ever overcomplicated the simple fact that you both enjoyed inhabiting the quiet spaces of each other's lives, no matter how dissimilar your individual idiosyncrasies might appear to outside perspectives.

"Not really," Kenma replied after a protracted beat, finally deigning to bless you with a response as you unceremoniously flopped down on the end of his bed with a playful bounce. He tried to feign nonchalance, to not allow the subtle crinkling of bedsprings and sheets rustling beneath your added weight to lodge itself under his skin quite so insistently. But he could admit to himself, if to no one else, that you inhabiting his personal domain so casually would always elicit a visceral flare of...awareness from his carefully cultivated aloofness.

He hoped the small, inscrutable furrow of his brow was enough to silently convey the token protest his persona demanded - the subtle you're-invading-my-territory bristle that most people wisely heeded when dealing with Kozume Kenma's highly attuned sense of solitary sovereignty. Not you though. Even after the numerous years of rad-proximity cohabitation that began between you two, you still seemed to gleefully take measured delight in cheerfully ignoring every last one of his prickly deterrent mechanisms.

Rather than take umbrage at his mild look of affront, you simply beamed and began rummaging around inside the plastic sack with greatly exaggerated gusto - no doubt for your own private amusement at tweaking Kenma's carefully maintained airs once again. The crunch and rustle of packaging being rifled through filled the small bedroom as you built up an aggravatingly teasing sense of dramatic flair, finally extracting your prize from the bottom of the bag with a wee little noise of triumph.

"Cherry?" You announced, brandishing the large spherical lollipop like a trophy freshly liberated from its crinkly plastic tomb. That impish glint danced through your gaze as you rolled the candy enticingly between your fingertips with a sly smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "I got a whole fresh bag full of those novelty flavors you used to go crazy for back in elementary school."

Kenma felt his brows twitching slightly as he absorbed the sight of the garishly dyed confection being spun and twirled in a saucy little display of enticement clearly meant solely for his benefit. The bright crimson whorls decorating the bulbous sugar orb put his mind immediately in the nostalgic mindset you'd explicitly stated - dragging forth powerful sensory memories of sticky fingers and tongues frantically chasing fleeting sugar highs around the smallest provocations.

"I remember how much you used to get a real kick out of novelty flavors like these after especially Kuroo dragged you out to play," you carried on in a lower, more conspiratorial tone as Kenma found his gaze firmly arrested by your mouth. You'd already begun dragging the pointed tip of the lollipop between your parted lips with tantalizing leisure, punctuating the suggestive motion with a slow wink. "Always the tasty little reward to help recharge those spent batteries, wasn't it?"

Before Kenma could formulate any semblance of a verbal response, you had already sealed your lips around the bulbous candy with a contented hum. His eyes went wide, transfixed, as he watched your cheeks hollow on the first experimental suckle.

There was something about the way your lips moulded so perfectly around the firm, protruding shape - the soft sounds of suction and the glimpses of your pink tongue slowly swirling to chase the initial burst of sticky sweetness. It was such a small, innocuous action, and yet Kenma found himself utterly entranced against his will.

You seemed blissfully unaware of the effect you were having, far too caught up in your own nostalgic indulgence. Your eyes had drifted shut in apparent bliss as you allowed the full-bodied flavor to roll across your palate with a pleased rumble. Kenma swallowed hard, feeling the heated prickle of a flush threatening to crawl up the back of his neck as you hummed out another long exhale of unabashed enjoyment.

The synthetic cherry scent suddenly seemed amplified ten-fold, heavy and cloying in a way that had Kenma's senses surging into hyperawareness of your every breath, subtle shift, and indulgent kitten lick. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the slow-motion mesmerism of watching that plump lower lip drag free from the candy's glistening surface with excruciating leisure.

A bead of melted syrup immediately welled up in the wake of your mouth's retreat, hanging heavy and taunting for the barest beat before gravity fully exerted its pull. Kenma's throat clicked on a strangled inhale as the ruby-red droplet began tracing a sticky path down the very center of your chin with tantalizing languidness. He could all but taste the cloying sugar exploding across his senses as the errant rivulet continued its maddening descent...only to finally shudder to a halt mere centimeters from the hollow of your throat.

You didn't seem to notice the escaped treat's sluggish journey, far too wrapped up in dragging the rapidly diminishing lollipop free to lave a series of thorough, indulgent kitten licks along the fresh sugar-trail your previous enthusiasm had laid across your very lips. Kenma felt his fingers flexing against the game controller, nails digging into the worn rubber in a white-knuckle grip as he was utterly transfixed.

The thick, humid weight of unspoken tension was mounting by the second, made heavier with every demonstrative sweep of your tongue and quiet simper of gratification that vibrated through the hushed bedroom. Just as Kenma was certain his restraint was about to fray completely, shattering into tinder to be consumed by this blazing conflagration of suggestive temptation, your eyes fluttered back into focus.

Your gazes instantly locked together with the electric shunt of a livewire arc-ing closed circuit. For an interminable breath, you both remained suspended in that heated stare - the only sound Kenma's own rapidly pounding heart hammering against his ribs with deafening intensity. Then, with obvious relish, your tongue swept out to lap up the errant trail of cherry syrup that had very nearly defied gravity's hold entirely before retreating.

Kenma's stomach muscles clenched as if taking a physical blow, his throat clicking on another difficult swallow against the sudden, harrowing jolt of explosive arousal that shocked through his system at the razor's edge of suggestiveness you had just displayed. You didn't show even the barest hint of hesitation or embarrassment, however, simply allowing your lips to curve upwards in an insolent smirk as you beheld the thunderstruck look on Kenma's face.

"Want a taste?" The words were innocuous enough, if perhaps delivered a shade too heavy with bedroom timbre and subtext. But the accompanying gesture of holding the thoroughly debauched candy out towards Kenma in clear offering? That was borderline obscene.

Unable to summon the power of speech for several suspended heartbeats, Kenma could only stare at the lurid streaks of color and glistening artificial sheen adorning the thoroughly savaged lollipop like neon warpaint. The sticky shine of sugar and saliva combined into an almost pornographic glaze that his overheated subconscious immediately supplied a barrage of wildly inappropriate mental images to contextualize.

It felt like a cosmic paradigm shift had occurred with shocking abruptness, as if someone had reached out and simply altered the gravity governing your established dynamic without advance notice or permission. What should have been a harmless instance of sugary indulgence between casual friends had taken on an electrifyingly charged tenor rife with fraught implications Kenma's fevered lizard brain was straining to process without imploding.

You seemed to notice the glazed look overtaking his features because you shifted forward on the mattress with what could only be described as a lazy roll of your hips. Your gaze briefly flicked down, confirming you had indeed provoked the expected bodily response in Kenma to match his overheated look. When you glanced back up through your lashes, pupils already dilated to liquid rings of pure invitation, a full-body shudder rocked through Kenma so violently it momentarily shorted his lungs of air.

There was no going back from this moment poised on the precipice of your established equilibrium. The gauntlet had been thrown in a bold, unambiguous challenge...and Kenma realized with a sort of stunned exhilaration that his subconscious had already accepted without input from his higher reasoning.

"Last chance," you purred out, deliberately dragging the candy's slick, hardened curve between your lips in an achingly sensuous tease.

Kenma didn't hesitate any longer.

With a low, guttural growl that sounded foreign even to his own ears, he surged forward until only a mere hairsbreadth separated your flushed frames. You sucked in a sharp inhale at his sudden approach, eyes blown wide in a heady mixture of surprise and approval, but didn't retreat.

If anything, you unconsciously leaned in further - near desperately offering up the ravaged lollipop like a silent supplication that Kenma was all too eager to receive. Without preamble, he sealed his lips around the exposed portion of sticky sugar...

You both seemed to hold your breath as Kenma's lips closed around the lollipop, savoring the tangy-sweet burst of artificial flavors coating his tongue. But there was an underlying muskiness as well - the undeniable taste of your own saliva mingling with the sugary treat in an intoxicating way that deepened the moment's intimacy.

Kenma's eyes slipped shut as he slowly drew the candy deeper into his mouth with a low rumble of appreciation. He could feel the heavy weight of your gaze scorching across his face as he indulged in long, leisurely pulls and sweeps of his tongue. The air between you had grown thick and charged, practically crackling with unspoken tension.

When he finally allowed the thoroughly worshipped lollipop to slip free with a damp pop, Kenma's eyes fluttered open to find you watching him with rapt fascination. Your chests were rising and falling in tandem, breaths falling into sync as that taut line of heated awareness stretched between you, thrumming like a tightly coiled wire.

"Your turn," Kenma rasped out, voice pitched and gravelly as he held the glistening treat out in mute offering. He could see your throat working on a convulsive swallow before you slowly, almost mesmerized, leaned forward to accept it between your newly reddened lips.

The sweet indulgence continued to pass between you in a steadily escalating cycle of wordless exchange - growing more fervent and molten with each intimate iteration. By the time the lollipop had fully dissolved into a rapidly melting stub, your joined breathing had grown harsh and punched-out against the heavy quiet surrounding you.

You held the lingering candy husk out towards Kenma with a look that could only be described as smoldering want. He found himself already leaning in, chasing those reddened, swollen lips until they crashed together in a heated collision of sugared, seeking mouths.

The lollipop was quickly forgotten, allowed to roll away into discarded oblivion as you both surrendered to the long-simmering hunger abruptly allowed to boil over into frantic need. There was nothing gentle or tentative in your joined onslaught - merely a wild, unbridled devouring as you clung to each other with something akin to desperation.

Kenma felt like he was short-circuiting from a constant barrage of new stimuli assailing his senses all at once. The velvet glide of your tongues tangling in an increasingly sloppy duel, the bittersweet tang of melted sugar commingled with the addictive essence of your unique tastes and scents, the featherlight caress of your fingertips branding tingling trails everywhere they exploratively roamed. It was quickly overwhelming his carefully cultivated restraint in tidal waves of new sensation.

Just when Kenma thought his tenuous grasp on control might disintegrate entirely, he vaguely registered the crinkle of plastic as you scrabbled blindly for something else. Your joined momentum barely faltered, mouths still hungrily devouring one another, as you managed to produce another candy - this time one of the gummy ring varieties.

You didn't hesitate before pressing the sticky, yielding treat against Kenma's lips in blatant invitation. His eyes slipped open in a momentary daze, but you simply held his heated stare as you slowly pushed the sugary disk deeper, deeper, until finally he was forced to open up and accept it fully inside.

A tremor rocked through Kenma as his tongue was instantly overwhelmed by the intense burst of sour green apple flavor. But the cloying artificial tang swiftly melted into something headier - the lingering taste of your saliva providing an irresistible musky counterpoint. He found his suckles growing more insistent, cheeks hollowing with each powerful pull as you watched him rapturously.

You seemed spurred on by his display, hands tangling almost painfully in his hair to sharply angle his head as you sealed your mouth over his in another bruising kiss. Climbing into his lap, you pressed even closer as the half-dissolved gummy quickly became the star attraction in a molten tug-of-war, messily traded back and forth as you strained to chase every melted smear and lingering taste from the other's questing tongue.

The wet, obscenely suckling sounds soon being disgorged into the dense air around you were utterly depraved...and yet neither of you could seemingly get enough. You rolled and writhed together with mounting desperation, limbs entangling as your bodies gyrated with a lustful, reckless abandon..

You hummed approvingly as you produced another treat from the bag - a plump gummy worm in a shockingly vibrant shade of lime green. Without preamble, you traced the squishy confection along the swollen seam of Kenma's lips, leaving a glistening trail of sugary syrup in its wake.

He immediately opened for you, taking the candy into the velvet heat of his mouth with a low rumble of pleasure. You watched, entranced, as his cheeks hollowed on the first experimental suck, feeling your belly clench at the obscene sound.

"Let me taste..." you rasped out, not waiting for permission before surging forward to lick away the sticky smears his thorough sampling was already leaving at the corners of his lips.

Kenma groaned at the hot glide of your tongue, catching it briefly to suckle hard - drawing you into a messy open-mouthed clash. The gummy candy quickly became the molten centerpiece of a heated tug-of-war, passed between your questing mouths in a filthy exhibition of slurping and swapping spit-slicked remnants.

By the time the neon treat had fully dissolved into so much sugary wreckage, your chins were streaked in lurid green and crimson from the excessive mess. You barely skipped a beat before grabbing another - this time one of the fruit-flavored taffies.

Kenma watched with heavy-lidded intensity as you slowly enveloped the tan-colored chew between your lips, torturously working the sticky mass along the insides of your cheeks before offering it to him with a muffled moan of wanton bliss. He immediately accepted the proffered treat, tongues dueling and tangling as you traded the rapidly dissolving candy back and forth in lascivious exchanges that had you both panting harshly through your noses.

Another candy soon joined the melting fray after the taffy had been comprehensively obliterated - a molten disk of pale yellow butterscotch this time. You took the initiative to cradle the liquidized confection against the swell of Kenma's lower lip, smearing the cloyingly sweet syrup across the reddened plump flesh. He instinctively gave a broad sweep of his tongue to chase the sugary trail, moaning brokenly at the artificial richness coating his palate.

This only seemed to spur you on further, and you were soon leaning in to lick and suckle away every last melting butterscotch droplet painting Kenma's swollen mouth. The sounds of your vigorous sampling and soft whimpers of delight were utterly shameless as you wallowed together in the sticky, heated devastation of so many defiled treats.

More gummies were soon added to the rapidly disintegrating pile - their colors blending into a garish kaleidoscope of streaked saliva and disgorged groans across your flushed bodies. You traded each dissolving confection back and forth in messy bursts of bruising suction that left your mouths swollen and tingling from the stimulation.

At some point, you tipped the bag entirely over the bedsheets, allowing the remaining sugar-dusted debris to spill out in a vibrant trail that seemed to beckon like an insistent siren. Neither of you hesitated before your joined frames collapsed squarely into the sticky devastation, utterly heedless of any shreds of restraint still tenuously remaining.

Candy dust and gobbed spittle were soon finding their way into every available crevice and exposed patch of slick, overheated skin as you thrashed together in delirious rapture. The thick, cloying sweetness and musk of arousal hung in the air like an intoxicating fog as you both surrendered to this singular, obsessive need to consume each sugary morsel from the other's plush mouths...among other intimate sampling still to come.

By the time the decimated bag had been exhausted of all its confectionary contents, you were both utterly spent - collapsed in a sweaty, debauched heap of limbs amidst the sticky devastation you'd so comprehensively wallowed within. Lurid warpaint streaked your flushed frames from the thorough coating of candy carnage, but matching dopey grins still curved your thoroughly ravaged mouths in unison.

Unbeknownst to you, the front of Kenma’s pants were soaked with more than just saliva and sugar, but the evidence would remain hidden until he got the chance to change his clothes.

"Guess we got a little carried away there, huh?" You teased, prodding Kenma in the side with an idle fingertip as he let out a grunt of agreement.

"We could always take a shower," he suggested after a beat, voice roughened with the kind of gravel that made your lower belly clench.

"And then what?" You prompted, rolling over so you could rest your chin atop Kenma's chest and peer up at him through your lashes.

He didn't even pause to consider, just gave a small shrug before responding in an even tone: "Then we could grab a whole bag of candies from the store and start all over again."

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #kenma smut #kozume kenma #kenma #kenma x reader #kenma x reader smut

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polaroidpascal · 4 months

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valentine's day || frankie morales

AO3 || MASTERLIST

pairing : frankie morales x f!reader

summary : you and frankie’s anniversary just happens to be on valentine’s day. even though you have to work today, frankie makes sure everything is set up to go perfectly when you come home.

tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, lots and lots of kissing, frankie is sickeningly sweet and gives you princess treatment, reader wears lingerie, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v sex (practice safe!!), multiple orgasms, praise kink, nicknames (so many nicknames…), lots of talking, coming together, creampie, little bit of sweet aftercare

WC: 6k (idk what happened to me…)

a/n : this is only briefly proofread so apologies for any errors or things that sound a little silly !! happy valentine’s day everyone 🫶

Your alarm wakes him up before it wakes you. The sound of the unoffending yet still dreadful beeping softly fills your consciousness but is quickly shut off. You hear some motion from the bathroom, still mostly asleep, and mere minutes later are greeted by sweet kisses to your neck and cheek, a hefty hand tracing your soft figure.

You slowly stir awake, kisses being oh so gently peppered across your face as you stretch to get your blood flowing again. You relax, open your eyes, and see Frankie, still sleepy-eyed but looking down sweetly at you.

“Good morning,” you say with as much of a smile as you can while still waking up.

“Good morning,” he says, matching your sleepy grin. “Happy anniversary, mi amor.” He leans down to kiss you. You melt into his soft lips, so soft that you think you might still be dreaming.

“Happy anniversary,” you say when he finally breaks away.

You and Frankie’s anniversary just happens to fall on Valentine’s Day, and you insist every year that he doesn’t need to do much, if anything, for you, but he does not take “no” for an answer. After the third year, you gave up your effort realizing that he was going to spoil you one way or another. You also gave up on finding any gifts for him (at his request -- nay, his command, basically) because, Your smile is enough, amor. And these hips, too, he’d flirt.

“Five years, huh?” you ask him, pure affection sparkling in both of your eyes.

“Why, are you sick of me already?” he jokes, eyebrows raised worriedly.

You laugh and shake your head, stretching some more with your arms reaching up to the ceiling. “Ugh, it should be a crime that I have to work today,” you say, arms crashing back down on the bed.

“I know, love.” he chuckles, gently rubbing your belly and kissing your forehead. “But hey, we still have all evening to celebrate,” he says playfully, smirking and nudging you a bit. You breathe a laugh, sitting up and getting your bearings before making your way to the bathroom to get ready.

Frankie gets up, too, making his way to the kitchen instead to make you breakfast before you start your day. He’s surprisingly quite the cook, and he knows you love it when he makes french toast. No one can make it like you do, Frank, you tell him. But this time, he uses a cookie cutter to make little hearts for you, frying them up perfectly as he does, and serving them all pretty for you.

You emerge from the hallway, hair barely halfway dry from a quick shower. It’ll look fine when I pull it up, you think as you towel dry it as best you can. You already smell the sweet cinnamon filling the air and know he’s treating you today. As you enter the kitchen, he’s turned away at the stove, still in his t-shirt and boxers, crew socks adorning his feet and hair still messy from sleep. You watch him cook up a serving for himself and see your plate neatly set on the table for you already, complete with a glass of apple juice (he knows that’s your favorite, too) and the best strawberries in the container he had bought. When you look down, you see the heart shaped toast and smile, a warmth filling your entire chest.

“Little hearts?” you say endearingly and he turns over his shoulder to smile at you before resuming his cooking. He finishes plating his helping, not bothering to make it even half as pretty as yours, and you sit down to eat together.

“Mmm,” you hum as you take a bite, “How do you make them better and better every time?”

“A chef never reveals his recipes,” he says, taking a bite as well. “So, I was thinking maybe we can go get dinner at that Italian place you like? I’ll bring you to work and come pick you up later, too. What do you think, princess?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” you say, smiling back at him before meeting his gaze again. “Wait, what about my clothes? I’d have to come back and get ready.”

“Well, what if we got you something new? Consider it my present to you.”

“Frankie, you already do so much, I don’t need new clothes too--”

“Ahhh, ah, ah,” he cuts you off, waving one hand back and forth. “No querida, none of that. I’m taking you to get something pretty.”

You cock your head to the side and smile as if to say, That’s really sweet of you. “Thank you, baby,” you say as you take another bite of your breakfast. When you finish, Frankie cleans up his and your plates, planting a kiss to the top of your head as he walks by. He tosses them into the sink to clean later as you gather your things and head to the car.

“Bye, love,” Frankie calls as you get out of the car. “Have a good day,” he says, a smile adorning his face.

“See you later,” you say and blow him a kiss. He catches it and holds it to his heart before he drives away.

On his way home, he stops at a florist stand and sees that they’ve put out some new signs. One reads, “The Language of Flowers” next to another reading, “Build a bouquet!” Frankie studies the chart reading what each flower is supposed to mean, carefully picking out an arrangement that says exactly what he wants to say. He grabs a positively beautiful assortment of pink, white, yellow, and red flowers making sure to place them in the most appealing way before grabbing a container of rose petals, taking everything to check out, and heading to the next store.

Immediately upon entry into the apothecary a few doors down, he’s overwhelmed with smells and candles and soaps and lotions -- and he has no idea what to even look for.

“D’ya need some help?” a low voice calls from the counter.

Frankie looks up and chuckles, “Yeah, actually, that would be nice.”

“What are you lookin’ for?” the man asks, looking down at the bouquet in his hand . “I’m assuming something for your lady, hm?”

“Yeah, I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for, really, but I wanted to surprise her. It’s actually our anniversary too and I want to make it special,” he says, blushing just a little.

“Well,” the man starts, “we’ve got a bunch of candles over here, small ones, big ones, anything you might want. And we’ve got some soaps and bath bombs over here. My wife, Tess, makes them all.”

Frankie smiles at that and asks, “And you help her sell?”

“Yeah, figure it’s the least I could do considering she makes it all. But anyway, if you need anything else, just holler.”

“Thank you so much,” he says before looking around the shop, taking inventory on all of the things he could buy. After smelling some candles and finding what he knows are your favorites, he finally decides what he wants and grabs everything he’ll need for later, checking out again and heading to the car to go back home.

Frankie lays his bags of goodies on the table and immediately gets to work around the house, starting with the dishes from this morning. He dries his hands and retrieves your laundry from the dryer to fold for you. Mid-folding, he pulls out a piece of cloth that he’s never seen before. He knows your clothes well (folding aside, countless times taking them off of you will do that) and he’s never seen this fabric before. As he unfurls the delicate garment, his jaw completely drops.

He holds up an intoxicatingly small and thin piece of lingerie, one he’s never seen before and his belly fills with heat. This has to be brand new, he thinks. She was gonna surprise me, huh? His jeans grow tight at the thought, unable to keep the fog from rolling in on his brain. He carefully lays it to the side for later and begins a futile attempt to push it out of his brain so he can finish the rest of this damned laundry.

Your phone dings at about 3:00.

Hey, baby. Let me know when you get off and I’ll be on my way. Love you ❤️

You smile and text back, I’ll be off in 30. Boss felt nice today 😊

Almost immediately, Frankie replies, I’ll be waiting, princess.

You blush and finish up your work as quickly as you can so you can touch up your makeup before Frankie picks you up. Just like he said, he’s waiting for you at the front of the parking lot ready to take you shopping. He’s absolutely beaming when he sees you approach, leaning over to kiss you tenderly when you hop into the passenger seat.

He pulls away asking, “Ready to go find something cute?”

“If you insist, loverboy,” you say with a smirk. He chuckles and shakes his head, pulling the car out of the lot and starting for the boutique you love.

You spend a while browsing the racks, accumulating an armful of dresses and one-pieces that catch your eye. Before you know it, your arm looks like it might as well be a rack itself with how much it's holding. “Here,” Frankie says, moving to grab the clothes, “let me take it, love.” You decide not to protest, but you finally make your way to a fitting room so he doesn’t have to carry any more.

It’s like your own little fashion show. With every outfit, you walk out of the curtains to your waiting boyfriend who looks absolutely dazed with everything you walk out in. But one particular dress has him sitting up a little different when you emerge.

“Oh, wow…” he mutters to himself, just barely loud enough for you to hear. You’re wearing a cute, short floral dress, a spring-y type, that isn’t even that fancy, really. But it's the way it hugs your figure perfectly, accentuating and complimenting every asset of your body that has Frankie all but salivating at the sight of you. You do a little spin for him, eyes coming to his face after the turn and seeing them almost glossed over.

“Do you like it?” you ask innocently.

He forces his eyes to meet yours and nods softly. “Yeah. Okay. I don’t need to see any more, that’s the one, hermosa,” he says as he stands up and walks towards you.

You laugh at his urgency and move to gather your things. Frankie pays and grabs everything but your purse from you as you make your way back to the car.

You get to dinner fairly early, parking the car at around 5:30. Frankie rushes out to open your door for you like the gentleman he is before taking you in his arm to walk into the restaurant. You sit at a beautiful little table decorated with a small fresh flower and a tealight candle, silverware and plates neatly set out already. Surprisingly, the restaurant is emptier than you thought it’d be.

“Love, how did you even get a reservation here?” you ask. “Don’t restaurants book up like months in advance for Valentine’s Day? We only decided to come this morning.”

Frankie laughs to himself for a moment before he confesses, “I did book this months in advance, I just didn’t tell you.” You reach over and lightly smack his hand and he laughs. He really did think of everything.

The rest of dinner goes wonderfully. You order your favorite dish and it’s cooked perfectly. Frankie gets a bottle of wine for the table, you joke and laugh, he steals a kiss or two of your hand… everything is just truly perfect.

You leave the restaurant and decide to take a walk down to a little ice cream shop, open a bit later just for today. You each get a scoop and walk along a lakeside through a park nearby, Frankie’s arm draped around your waist, the other holding a mini ice cream cone, while you eat from your little cup.

“Thank you, Frankie,” you say, looking up briefly at his face. He looks down and smiles sweetly back at you. “Everything was so nice. Even though I had to work.”

He squeezes you a little tighter and kisses your forehead. You walk a little further before he jokes, “Well, I wasn’t gonna sit around and twiddle my thumbs all day, was I?” You chuckle and lean into him some more. “You ready to go back home, mi amor?”

“Yeah, I’m ready. The bed is calling to me. If you listen real close, you might be able to hear it too.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughs and you head back to the car.

Frankie’s hand is glued to your thigh the entire drive, just sitting there wanting to feel the warmth of your soft thighs peeking beneath the hem of your new dress, the one he already loves so much. His eyes are glued to the road, but yours are glued to him, watching as he rests one hand on the top of the wheel, checks his mirrors routinely, and relaxes into the motions of driving.

A warm puddle grows in your belly at the beautiful sight of him, spreading from right where he was rubbing you this morning as you woke up. You look down to your thigh and grab his hand. He glances over for a second and tries to responsibly divide his focus on the road and your hand guiding his slowly further and further up your leg, brushing the middle of your panties and spreading the slick gathering there to dampen them even more.

You hear him grunt softly under his breath at the feeling and the soft whimper that leaves your mouth, feeling his thick fingers brushing your clothed core.

“Amor, please… we’re almost home,” he begs. You whine as you roll your hips a little into his hand at him and he grunts again, trying to stifle it as best as he can.

“Since you planned everything, I'm sure you planned to fuck me too, hm?” you tease and fight the urge to plunge his fingers into your underwear and have him finger you right here, right now.

“Baby… you have no idea,” he teases as he starts to rub you over your underwear. You whine and lean back into the seat, your hips following the movement of his hand.

He takes his hand away as you pull into the driveway, getting out again to open your door for you. This time, he leans down and kisses you deeply, tongue knocking at your lips waiting to be welcomed inside your mouth. He grabs your hand to lead you inside, walking a little too fast and excitedly for you to keep up.

“Frankie, hang on a second--” you say, stumbling in your heels to keep up. He slightly fumbles with his keys for just a moment, playing it off well trying to hide his excitement. When he opens the door, you almost go weak as you gasp, hand up to your mouth taking in all that you see. “Oh, Frankie…”

Candles. Everywhere. Little ones sitting on the tables and lining the hallway, a small walkway of them leading directly to your bedroom. In between them, a sparse trail of rose petals acts like a bright neon sign saying “this way to the bedroom!”

He hugs you from behind, kissing your neck when he asks, “Do you like it?”

“Like it? Frankie this is too much, you really didn’t have to do all of this…”

“I had Pope stop by when we left the ice cream shop to light them all,” he says softly in your ear. “Go inside, I have one more thing to give you,” he says, pushing you slightly in the door. “Well, two things really, but only one that’s not at the end of this yellow brick road paved for you.”

He takes your hand guiding you to the kitchen where you see a beautiful bouquet of flowers dressing the table. You can tell he made it because of the seemingly random selection making up the bouquet. “Did you make this, baby?”

“I did,” he says, hugging behind you once again. “That flower shop in town had it set up. They had this cool chart, too. Apparently different flowers mean different things.”

“Oh?” you ask, looking around at him.

“Yeah. I took a picture of it so I wouldn’t forget.” He pulls out his phone for reference. “Look here,” he points, “this tulip right here is for love, of course. This one here is an apple blossom. It says it means ‘I prefer you before all.’”

You feel tears well up in your eyes as he continues, “This one, the lily, is for pure love. And the honeysuckle is for devoted affection--”

You turn around in one smooth motion and kiss him fervently, pressing yourself impossibly close to his lips, unable to control yourself as the love ignites like wildfire in your chest. His hands come up to your cheeks to hold you steady as he kisses you back, deeply and passionately. “And that last red one there, the fuschia…” he mumbles as he finally pulls you away and smiles. “That one means ‘I like your taste.’”

You kiss him again, legs already moving to your bedroom and you pull away, the two of you chasing each other down the hall like a couple of teenagers home alone for the first time.You follow the tealights and rose petals to your room, the door slightly ajar. And when you open it, there’s even more rose petals than before scattered across the floor and sprinkled on the bed. You see something folded at the edge, stepping closer only to stop in shock. “Oh my god... you did the laundry...?”

“I sure did, amor. Hey, this might be crazy but I found this thing in your batch that I’ve never seen before…” he teases, the smile on his mouth audible. You reach to pick it up and turn to face him. He looks back, smile fading and arms crossing when he says, “Are you cheating on me?”

You laugh and throw it at him. “You’re so stupid, Frankie!”

He laughs back and tosses it back to you. “Go on, amor, go put it on. I’ve been thinking about it all day, I wanna see it.”

You scurry over to the bathroom, garment in hand, to change. You slip it on -- it fits perfectly -- and fix your hair a little in the mirror. You can’t help but let out a giddy giggle before you turn to the door again.

When you come back into the bedroom, Frankie is already stripped down to his boxers, sitting at the edge of the bed. He looks up at you and you swear you can see his cock jump from where you’re standing. He nearly falls back onto the bed when you walk out, muttering something that you can’t quite make out. He beckons you over to him, his hands immediately connecting to your hips and tracing your figure. “Amor… mírate…” he purrs, his voice low and lustful.

You let his hands wander over your body, barely clothed by the lacy white lingerie adorning your body. He cups your boobs over the delicate fabric, the buds growing under his touch and a chill running down your spine.

“Frankie…” you moan, becoming putty in his palms.

He gently commands, “Lay on the bed for me. I need to taste you.”

You obey, switching positions with him as he stands and you crawl towards the head of the bed. You lounge there, knees spread as he crawls between your legs. His fiery touch like fireworks against your soft skin. He rubs the outsides of your thighs planting kisses leading up towards your middle, already soaking your brand new outfit.

He sees the wet spot there and kisses your core over the cloth, desperate to taste you. You moan at the softness, “Please, Frankie…”

He slowly… very, very slowly drags your panties off, reveling in the way you shiver when your wet heat meets the cold air of the room. “Good god…” he whispers, seeing the way you glisten in the dim light of the room. “So fucking wet…”

“Mhm…” you whimper, desperate to feel any part of him finally touch you.

Fighting every urge to dive straight in, he kisses the crease where your legs and hips meet… the lowest part of your belly right above your pussy… and each lip as you chase his mouth, desperately seeking him where you want him most.

He looks up at you, eyes completely black from lust, “Gonna let me treat you like a princess, hm? Be so good for me?”

You bite your lip at how hot he looks, inches from your middle and hair ever so slightly messy from taking off his clothes, waiting for you to answer him before he dives in. “Yes, so good for you, baby… need you so bad,” you whine and nod.

He keeps his eyes trained on yours as he lowers down, tongue sticking out as he licks a devastatingly slow and warm stripe up your center, drinking in all of you waiting for him. You throw your head back, eyes rolling as you moan and squirm under him. He starts slow, savoring every jolt and shiver and roll of your hips while his tongue dances in your folds.

“Yes, Frankie… feels so fucking good…” you cry. Your body subconsciously chases him, your thighs gently clamping his head as you grind on his tongue. Every rut up against his face makes him press into you harder and his tongue laps up every drop of you.

You gain the strength to look down at him again and he looks like he’s drowning, face completely buried within you, eyes closed and enjoying every second that he’s trapped between your legs. The sight of his hips gently and mindlessly driving himself into the mattress sends a flood of wetness through you and you flutter beneath his tongue. He feels it and moans against you, the vibration immediately sending another wave down there.

He pulls off for a short breath, “Fuck yes, baby… Such a good girl…”

You whimper at his praise and he gradually picks up speed, switching between broad, flattened strokes up your heat and focusing on your clit. His tongue draws pointed circles there and it sends electricity through your veins. You whine and writhe and moan as he eats you like a man starved, drinks you like he’s been stuck in a desert and you’re his oasis.

He moves down a little, focusing his mouth at your entrance. His nose is nestles perfectly against your clit as his tongue darts out into you, fucking you gently and moving his face side to side. “Oh my god, Frankie… yes, just like that…”

“Tastes so sweet, hermosa… fuck, you’re so gorgeous…” he moans into you. He feels you coming more and more undone on his mouth as you fight a losing battle to stay still underneath him. His arms are wrapped around your thighs, keeping you spread open but still letting you squeeze his face tight. He feels you get closer and closer but he slowly pulls off. You whine in protest looking at him with the most pitiful doe eyes he’s ever seen.

“Flip over,” he gently orders and you obey, turning and switching your weight to your knees and forearms. He grabs your waist and pulls you a little closer before his mouth is back on you, licking you from front to back and groaning into you. This angle makes it easier for his tongue to fuck into you, moving in and out and driving you fucking crazy. His hand snakes around your waist, fingers landing directly on your clit and drawing careful circles.

You fall closer to the bed still resting on your arms but relying on the strength of your shoulders to keep you from fully collapsing. “Oh my fucking god… right there, baby… please dont stop…” you beg.

“Gonna come for me, princess?... That’s it, all over my face, baby… Want it all…”

You back yourself up into his face without even realizing it, feeling the build up deep in your belly. You clench around his tongue and he moans, the vibration hurdling you closer and closer to your orgasm. “Yes, baby… fuck, I’m gonna come… right there… yes…”

“Let it go baby, let me feel you…” he says before picking up his unrelenting and intoxicating speed. All at once, it washes over you and you fully collapse onto the bed, back arching while you twitch and grind his face. He doesn’t let up, letting you ride out every last wave as he devours you until you pull away from him on the verge of overstimulation.

He leans back and wipes his completely drenched mustache and beard with the back of his hand. He looks breathless and blissful, but not as blissful as you, trying to get some strength back into your arms to hold yourself up, but Frankie puts his hand on your back pushing you down and grabs your legs to lay you completely flat. His giant hand rubs up your back, then he kisses a line down your spine feeling the goosebumps raise on your skin. “So good, princess. Such a good girl.” You whine at his praise again. “You like being my good girl, huh? Taking my tongue like that, doing just what I told you to do.”

You muster a weak, “Yes, Frankie… love it s’much…”

He cups your ass in his hands, “Wanna feel me all up in your belly now, baby?”

You can’t even answer him in words this time and pathetically whimper the equivalent of, Yes, please fill me up.

He rips off his boxers and grabs his cock, rock solid and already dripping, and he lines himself up with you, coating himself in the slick he didn’t drink up already and notches the fat tip at your entrance. “Gonna fill you up so good, baby… Gonna fit it all in there… so deep, huh?” He pushes the tip in as slow as he can before it slips in and you gasp at the feeling. He pushes in, inch by inch filling you up so perfectly… so fully… as you gasp and huff to catch your breath.

A rumbling groan erupts from his chest, “Fuuuuuck… my fucking god, baby…” You feel his cock twitching on you already when he bottoms out and tries to ground himself before he loses it too soon.

He leans down on top of you, arms on either side of your own and grabbing your hands in his. “So soft and warm, mi amor…” he purrs in your ear. “Your pussy was made for me baby…”

He kisses your shoulder as he slowly inches out and you whine at the loss before he quickly pushes back in, sitting up and grabbing your hips. He picks you up a little, getting the angle just right where he knows he’ll hit that spongy little spot that makes you see stars. His cock curls perfectly into it making you whine at every thrust, more and more slick spilling out of you every time.

You can’t even speak anymore. He already has you in a puddle of whimpers and whines, the only thing on your brain is how fucking deep he is in your belly.

“God, you look so pretty taking my cock, princess,” he says, drilling into you with his relentless speed. You feel a build up deep inside as he hits and hits and hits that one spot, your entire body going weak and limp as he builds you up. Your hand reaches around to find his at your hip and you squeeze it, a silent way of saying, Please don’t fucking stop.

“You like that baby? You gonna come again all over my cock?” he teases, never letting up and fucking deeper into you.

“yesbabyyes’msoclosefrankie” you babble, completely cock drunk and putty underneath him. He keeps going, egging you on and twitching inside of you.

“Yeah, baby… taking it so fucking deep… So good for me huh?... Who’s my good girl?”

It’s that last bit that has you clawing at the sheets and coming undone again underneath him in a mess of whines and moans and sobs. Your senses blur, your vision foggy and ears ringing with pleasure. It’s impossible to tell how loud you are right now, the only thoughts running through your brain are how to stay conscious while Frankie fucks you within an inch of your life. He holds your hips steady as you clench impossibly tight around him, fucking you up to the hilt and dragging himself along your spasming walls. He stills and his cock jumps again, this time he leans down again on top of you breathing heavily and fighting every single muscle in his body telling him to keep going.

“Fuck baby… that’s it, come back to me… so fucking gorgeous…” he rests above you, not moving for a minute and letting himself sit in your heat, harder than a fucking diamond inside of you.

Finally, he sits up again. “Love… you got one more for me, hm? Come on, you can do it…” he insists, rubbing up and down your back as you slowly come back down to earth.

“C’mon, princess, turn over one more time for me… Wanna see those pretty eyes and pretty lips…” he begs as he helps you move under him. “Oh, amor…”

Your face is a fucked out wreck, eyes half shut, makeup slightly smeared, and tiny tear marks decorating beneath your eyes. He leans down and sprinkles gentle kisses all over your face before settling at your lips, his tongue intruding your welcoming mouth as he kisses you deep. He presses his forehead to yours, “Gonna give me one more, baby… Be my good girl and give me one more, okay?” he whispers.

You nod weakly at him, hands coming up to rub his sides as he trails kisses down your face, your neck, and your chest, drawing one of your nipples into his mouth for just a second before sitting up to realign himself with you. “Ready?”

You nod, desperation plastered across your face as he lines himself up and pushes in. He watches as your jaw goes slack, eyes closed and brows furrowed at his reentry, a small sob escaping from your chest. He watches your face as he pushes all the way in and drags back out, slowly at first until he sets a comfortable pace. An uncontrollable chorus of desperate whines from you fill the air. He drapes your legs over his arms holding you in place because he knows you can’t keep them steady anymore.

“So fucking good baby… you’re so perfect… feel so good…” he babbles as he fucks you, sprinkling kisses all over your legs. He lets them down and lays on you, impossibly deep in your belly as he cups your face with one hand and holds your own with the other. He kisses you feverishly as he reaches places in you with his cock that only he could ever possibly hit.

His sounds and touches make one more pool of arousal drip in your stomach, slowly but surely building up inside of you. His breathing gets harder and faster, his hips just starting to falter a bit. He lifts up from your lips and looks at your eyes, closed from the positively blinding pleasure you feel.

“Look at me baby… open those eyes for me… That’s it, love, look at me when I fuck you.”

You lock eyes with him. Even this close, you can’t tell where his pupils end and iris begins. You drink in all of his beautiful features, his face starting to look just as fucked out as yours has been. “So beautiful… I love you so much… You feel so fucking good…”

His babbling and inconsistent thrusts tell you he’s close. You use the last of your energy to answer him back instead of just pathetic sounds.

“You’re so sweet to me Frankie… fuck me so perfect…”

“Yeah? You like when I fuck you, hermosa?… My good little girl taking my cock…”

“Yes… ‘m yours baby, all yours…”

He grunts as his thrusts become completely sloppy now, fast and slow trying with every fiber of his being to keep it together but he’s almost at his limit. You feel him twitching hard now, hurdling you closer and closer faster than you thought you would as your walls flutter around him.

“I feel you baby… you getting close for me? Gonna come with me?”

“Yes, baby… wanna come with you… feels so good…”

“That’s it baby…” he chases his high, never once looking away from your face. “Look at me, baby… wanna watch you come on my cock…”

Each pound into you sends electricity up your spine. Frankie takes his hand from yours and drops it down to your clit, using his thumb to trace messy but firm circles on the little bundle of nerves. You screw your eyes shut, almost completely overwhelmed by the sensation.

“Gonna make you mine, amor… Look at me baby… ‘M gonna put a pretty little ring on that finger someday… you want that? You wanna be mine?”

Your mouth hangs open in a stupor. “Yes, baby, yes… wanna be all yours…”

His jaw goes slack too, huffing and grunting with every thrust. “Fuck yes, baby… fuck ‘m close… look at me when you come, baby… give it to me…”

You lock eyes with him and let the coil in your belly come undone, convulsing at his touch and choking his cock impossibly tight. He lets out an animalistic groan at you and it’s only seconds before he’s painting your walls with his cum, bottoming out and staying there as he jolts inside of you. Filling you up with more and more of him as his sticky spend leaks out of you around him. He buries his head into your neck and whines as he empties himself completely into you, all but crushing you with his weight while his hot panting breath dances across your body.

You both lay there twitching from the aftershocks and desperately try to catch your breath. He lays there so long that he’s mostly soft when he finally brings himself to pull out of you, cum immediately leaking out of you onto the towel that you didn’t even notice has been there the whole time, too blinded by everything else going on.

He watches the little show before he grabs the end of the towel to clean you up some, tossing it to the side and collapsing on his back next to you. You curl into his side tracing up and down his torso as you sigh, “Good god, Frankie…”

He chuckles and brings his hand down to stroke your hair. The two of you stay there for a little while more, basking in the afterglow and warmth of each other. Eventually, Frankie gently asks, “You wanna go rest in the bath a little?” and plants a kiss to the top of your head.

“Mmm…” you hum. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

He carefully rises to his feet, making his way to the bathroom to run the water. Suddenly, you remember something he said and call out to him. “Hey, baby?”

“Yeah?”

“What was that bit about the ring, again?”

“Shit--” you hear him curse. He comes back out to you with a slight urgency in his walk and kisses you… long… When he pulls away, he brings his hand up to your chin and whispers, “You never heard a thing,” planting a cute peck on the lips while you laugh at him before disappearing back into the bathroom.

a/n : ngl this one got away from me and i was not expecting it to be this long, but im not surprised bc im so down bad for frankie... (i also may or may not have already thought of a fluffy little sequel of sorts for this one bc im too insane about him...) anyway, happy valentine's day everyone, hope you enjoyed !! 🫶💜

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