Francisco Morales - Tumblr Posts

dreamboat | greaser!frankie morales | part one

pairing: francisco “catfish” morales x reader; greaser!frankie x reader

warnings: smoking, drinking, swearing, lewd comments, mentions of racism.

a/n: We got ourselves a series, ya’ll. I cannot wait until chapter 2. I present to you – Greaser!Frankie Morales

masterlist

You gently close the door as your mother leans over to wind down the passenger side window. “You will be fine, sweetheart. It is absolutely normal to feel nervous! It is your first day after all.”

You nod and feel your tied hair bound up and down. The white ribbon falls on your cheek and you push it back. “I understand, mother. It’s just different than my previous school, that’s all.”

“And they taught you how to be a lady, did they not? You are properly educated, unlike these individuals. Now smooth your skirt down before it wrinkles. First impression matter, correct? I will see you after school. I love you!”

You tell your mother you love her too as you smooth down your white full-circle skirt and adjust your two notebooks on your arm. You wave a goodbye to your mother and watch as she drives her 1953 pastel yellow Pontiac your father had gifted her for her birthday.

You turn and take a good look at your new school and you immediately feel out of place. The cream-colored cement building looks old, but the lawn looks taken care of. The sounds of revving engines and the smell of cigarette smoke abuse your ears and nose. You are most definitely not used to those aspects of the place. Your old school was strict about noises and smells. The only smell they wanted lingering the air was that of perfume and the sound of the girls talking about the school curriculum.

What you see here would give the mistresses a stroke. You see couples shoving their tongues down each other’s throats, students smoking on campus, hot rods racing up and down the streets, and the boys throwing such obscene comments. As you walk up the path towards the building’s entrance, your eyes fall upon a group of five boys whose comments make a chill run up your spine.

“Hey paper shakers,” one calls out. “Why don’t cha shake those pom poms over in this direction? I’ll give ya somethin’ good to cheer about!” The guys snicker to each-other as Benny jokingly thrusts at the cheerleaders. The group hollers at the cheerleaders as they shout insults at the boys and run into the school’s building. You notice that four of them continue to laugh and yell other comments at the athletes, but the fifth just looks around and appears to shy away from joining his friends.

Dressed in black jeans, a white tee, and a worn black leather jacket, Frankie tries to hide away from his brothers’ banter. He never understood why they talk to betties the way they do and then complain that they don’t have a doll around their arm. Pope seems to be the one who is a bit like him, but that’s only because he’s felt the uncomfortableness on the receiving of impudent comments. Being Latino in this town wasn’t the most welcoming while growing up. His family was always met with derogatory comments just because of their appearance. He never understood why people thought it was okay to jump his father every other night on his way back home from work. He never understood why his mother was always denied jobs because she had an accent. He never understood why he rarely had friendships that lasted because their parents said that they couldn’t hang out with the “brown boy.”

Once he grew up, he understood what the concept of racism was. When he met Santiago, or Pope as Frankie called him, he learned that Santiago’s family left his town because they were threatened and when they wouldn’t leave, their house was broken into. The pair soon became best friends and were able to fight off their bullies with each other’s help.

Frankie had never been one to initiate a fight, but he would be the one to end it. Benny was always the fighter. Whether it was his battle or not, he would always be up to throw the first punch. When they made it to freshman year, the boys decided it would be best to create a group of friends that they could lean on when times got tough and to their luck, they met the Miller brothers, Will and Benny, and Tom, also known as Redfly.

You took a deep breath and clutched your books to your chest. You slowly walked up the stairs and as you revert your eyes down to the floor as you tried not to bump into someone and walked past the group – that was until you heard “hey there doll face, where’d you come from?”

You look up to see a tall blonde, younger than the other blonde, snicker at himself and wink at you. You look around to make sure the comment was directed at you and the group laughs. “Yeah, I’m talkin’ to ya sweetheart. I’m guessin’ yousa newbie?” You widen your eyes and steadily nod.

One of the brunettes steps up to you, takes his toothpick out his mouth and replaces it with a cigarette. He takes a deep inhale and blows the smoke in your face. You wave you hand in front of your face and cough as he lets out a laugh. “You that chick that escaped Saint Catherine’s?”

You shrug and nod once more, but with a grimace etched on your face. He raises his cigarette back into his mouth and puts his hand out to you for a handshake – you reciprocate the handshake.

“The name’s Tom, but you, pretty lady, can call me Redfly. Those two over there is Benny and his brother Will. This one behind me,” he points towards one of the two other brunettes, “this one’s Santiago, but call him Pope. You’re familiar with those religious names, right?” This comment earns him an eye roll from you, but it also earns him a scoff from the final member of his little clique.

Tom turns around and looks at his friend. “You trynna say somethin’, ‘Fish?” The brunette smirks and shakes his head. Tom lets out a “hmph” and nods. “This one’s Frankie. We call him Catfish because he may seem like a kicked puppy dog, but the guy can fuck someone up if he really gotta.” You nod and look over to Frankie and find that he’s already looking at you.

You notice just how right Tom was when he described Frankie as a puppy dog. Frankie’s eyes are brown deep-set eyes are captivating. His lips are pink and plush – making you want to give him a big ol’ kiss. His rugged hair calls out to your hands to run your fingers through it. You suddenly lost the ability to speak, so you resulted in clumsily wave a hello, but resulting in your books falling to the ground.

You began to kneel over to pick them up, but a hand stopped you from doing so. Frankie bent over to pick up your things, dusted them off, and handed them to you. What you didn’t see was the boys smiling at seeing their brother be dumbstruck over a girl.

You took your books back with a shy thank you to Frankie and him saying “no problem.” He caught sight of your schedule you received in the mail the day prior and smiles to himself.

“I see you have World History first. Is it with Robinson? May I?” He puts his hand out for your schedule that is taped on the front of your notebook. You pass him your blue notebook and he starts to analyze your schedule. Once he’s satisfied, he gives you back your notebook. “I have classes near yours. I can walk you if you’d like?” Before you’re given the opportunity to answer, Frankie’s friends burst out into laughing fit so loud, the students passing by look over to see the cause of the sound – looking right back to where they were when they see who it was.

“Whatcha gonna do, ‘Fish?” Will teases, “gonna take the new girl on a grand tour of the school? She don’t look the type to give it up behind the bleachers, pal.” Frankie turns red and stutters his denial of the accusation. The boys laugh at him as he nervously tugs on his leather jacket.

“I’d love if you would, Frankie. I haven’t a clue where I’m going, and I really don’t want to get lost on my first day.”

“Yeah, sure. That’s cool.” Frankie nods and stuffs his hands in his pocket.

“Ya might wanna go now, ‘Fish. Princess here ain’t gonna wanna be late,” Tom teases. Tom nudges his head towards the other side of the building. “Let’s go Bandits. Teach’ aint gon’ misses us too much. We’ll see ya in a bit, Frankie.” The boys walk away with Pope and Will giving Frankie a pack on the back with a chuckle – leaving you and Frankie alone on the steps.

“Are they not going to class? It’s the first day and they’ll make a bad impression on their first period instructor.” You ask. You wonder why the boys wouldn’t go to their homeroom, especially being the first day of class.

“They’ll get there… eventually. We can go though. I don’t wanna make ya late or anythin’.” He gestures for you to start walking in front of him, but you won’t walk until knowing something first.

“Frankie, will you be going to homeroom? They said they would see you in bit. Are you just taking me to my classroom and skipping your first period?”

Frankie gets red and shakes his head furiously. “Nah, I ain’t those idiots. My parents would flip their shit if I had to retake a year.” You smile up at him and nod. You reach out to take his arm, as your old school taught you a gentleman should, and were shocked when Frankie pulled away as you touched his arm.

“Sorry, doll. Didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“I was just taking your arm, is all.” You cocked your head to the side. Every man you’d been escorted by has always given you their arm.

It was his turn to act confused. He knew exactly what you were doing and why, but he had a reputation to uphold and it wasn’t him being a gentleman. “What does that mean? Whatcha takin’ my arm for, doll?”

“Nevermind. Shall we?”

Frankie leads you into the crowded building. Students were running everywhere, and voices drowned the pair of you. He takes you to the second level of the building and leads you down the hall and taking a sharp left. You’re a bit lower than he is, but with each step, you start to really get a good luck at the back design on his jacket.

“What does Bandits mean?” Frankie turns around and by instinct, looks at the back of his jacket.

“It’s our group. Call ourselves The Bandits,” he says with “The Bandits” in air quotations.

You stifle a giggle, and he smiles showing of his dimple on his right cheek.

“Yeah, Pope came up with it. I just ran with it.”

“Do you steal?”

“Nah. Pope just thought it sounded cool. Redfly wanted the name “The Unarrestables,” but got arrested two weeks later for mailboxing 7 blocks.” You let out a loud laugh, covering your face with your notebooks, and Frankie looks over at you and smiles. He hasn’t been able to laugh the way he just did in a long time. As you share a funny story about your former mistress skirt being caught in a window, the two of share more laughs as you ultimately arrive at your homeroom’s door.

“Here we are. Room 249… World History with Lloyd Robinson. I’ll come back for you after class to take you to second period. That cool with ya?” You smile and nod. You’re a bit sad that you made it so soon, but quickly disappears when he mentions coming back for you.

“That sounds great, Catfish. Thank you very much.” He lets out a chuckle and nods at you.

“You can call me Frankie. I like the way you say it, doll.” Just as he starts to walk away, a voice makes him freeze in place and slowly turn back around.

“Mister Morales, will you not be joining us today or is your cigarette of much more importance?”

“Mister Robinson. How’s the new kid?” Frankie nervously scratches the back of his head.

“Frankie, get in this classroom or you’ll receive a failing grade starting now.” Mister Robinson gives you a warm smile in comparison to his frown towards Frankie and goes back into the classroom.

“Wait a minute. You have the same homeroom as I do? You said yours was near!”

He sighs and holds his hands up in surrender. “I guess I’ve been caught. We have the same classes, lucky you.”

“But this is AP World History.”

“Just because the guys I run with don’t give a shit, don’t mean I don’t either.”

You stand in front of him and cross your arms underneath your breasts – eyes narrowed and staring into his. “You are just full of surprises aren’t you, Frankie Morales.”

He looks deep into your eyes and smirks. He adjusts his jacket and runs a hand in his hair. He reaches for the handle and opens the door open for you. 

“Ladies first, doll.”

dreamboat | greaser!frankie morales | part two

diner cred to @thatretrobitch​

pairing: francisco “catfish” morales x reader; 1950’s greaser!frankie x reader

warnings: swearing, drinking, smoking, ya know… 1950s stuff + death and war, and being rude af

a/n: part two of dreamboat

masterlist

dreamboat: part one | part two

“If I didn’t know any better, Francisco, I’d say you were teacher in a past life.” You look up at him and smirk. He looks over to you and gives you a crooked smile. He adjusts his jacket and runs his left hand through his hair.

Frankie taught you a lot more history than the teacher. Frankie had a lot more patience and explained each topic that was covered in much better detail and simply enough to understand. Like when Hattie Wyatt Caraway of Arkansas became the first woman elected to the U.S. Senate in 1932 to fill the vacancy caused by the death of her husband. Frankie compared it to the demonstration of the first long distance telephone service between New York and San Francisco in 1913 – surprising but needed.

You didn’t have Frankie for a third period, just first and fourth, but he made sure to meet you out each of your classes and walked you over to your next class. He had conversed with the boys about asking you to Rosie’s Diner on Friday night. Everyone knows when a guy takes a little darlin’ down to Rosie’s, she’s unavailable. Frankie knows you probably don’t know what going to the diner with him means but he assumes if you did, you wouldn’t go. So he decides that the less you knew the better – well at least that’s what Tom decided.

“Ya know, doll. I like the way you say my name, but how ‘bout ya just call me Frankie, huh? I don’t use the entire thing anymore.”

You cock your head to the side and your smiles turns into a slight frown. “Do you not like the way Francisco sounds?”

He tucks his hands into his jean pockets, shrugs, and looks down at his dirty Chuck Taylors. “Thanks, I do like it, but it don’t… it don’t sound cool, you know? I got a reputation to keep up – all the guys do.”

Frankie stopped using the name Francisco at the start of freshman year. Pope stopped using Santiago around the same time. Their teachers would call them Francis and Saint because they found it difficult to pronounce the boys’ names correctly. Frankie was too shy to say anything and Pope was still unsure about his accented English, so when Will laughed and told the teacher, “Ain’t that a bite? You got a degree, but can’t pronounce an ABC name,” the boys knew Will was going to be a great friend. The boys thought that would be the end of it, but then Benny decided to join his brother and say, “How ‘bout, since ya feel so high and mighty, you call ‘em Frankie and Pope? We got Francisco like that city on the west coast, so call ‘em Frankie. Then we got Santiago. You wanna call ‘em Saint, then give ‘em the highest honor.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better,” you stopped walking and placed a hand on his arm. “I like your name. I think it suits you very well.”

He smiles and nods. He doesn’t know if he’s nodding because he’s convincing himself he likes it too or if he’s nodding because he’s glad you like it too. He liked your company because you weren’t too invasive, but he could also tell that you wanted to get to know him. He knew he wasn’t the most open to people, he has his father to thank for that.

As young 19-year-old – about a year older than Frankie – his father was drafted and fought in World War 1 in 1918 as a US Army soldier and was then sent off to France a few weeks in to fight with the AEF, the American Expeditionary Forces. Because of this, Frankie’s father wasn’t the most expressive when in public but was easily the most caring when it came to his family. When Frankie was growing up, his father had spoiled his baby boy and made sure he worked hard as a welder so that Frankie wouldn’t want for anything. Frankie remembers his father coming home from work late at night, oil and bits of metal stuck to him, and always turning his frown into a smile when he laid eyes upon his son.

His father’s closure to the world only grew when he saw his family in danger. Frankie figured that by growing up within a military family, it would lead to him serving in the military as his father did before him. When Frankie was coming to the age of enlistment, he told his family about him wanting to go off to the military, but his father was very much against it. All his father wanted for his son was for Frankie to live his life the way he wanted to, so Frankie didn’t enlist. One day when Frankie was at school, recruiters came to the Morales home and were knocking the door down. Frankie’s father had informed them that his son would not be serving. He was told that because Frankie was able, male, and was soon to be of age, he had to enlist whether he was needed or not. His father complied; except he wrote his own name down instead of his son’s.

His father never regretted going to war. He still had nightmares, which Frankie knew all too well. He had met Frankie’s mother when he came back home in 1921 and after years of trying, he was blessed with a son in 1935. All was good in the world until the year 1950 – Frankie was 15 years old. In August of 1950, a letter came in the post reading the following:

SIR: FRANCISCO MORALES SR.

You are hereby notified that you, on the 21 day of August of 1950, have been legally drafted in the service to the Armed Forces of the United States of America. You are to report to the Armed Forces station below and will be transported to Daejeon, Korea.

Frankie’s father never came back.

His body was never recovered – just his ID tags. Frankie’s mother was told that the last transmission received with the whereabouts of Francisco Morales Sr. were near the Nakdong River in South Korea. Frankie always carried his father’s ID tags around his neck no matter where he went. Those tags always reassured him of himself knowing that he was doing what his father wanted him to do.

Frankie walked you down the steps of school building and stopped at the sidewalk. “Ya know, if ya need a ride, I can take ya home – aint no trouble.”

You smile and shake your head. “I appreciate that. I told my mother I’d take the bus back home.” You knew your mother would have a fit if she saw you get dropped off by a boy, but she may still be at work. You looked back at Frankie and saw that he had a slight frown on his face as he played with a necklace hidden in his white t-shirt. You weren’t sure the reason behind it, but he didn’t want to pry. “Actually, I’ll take a ride.”

His eyes lit up and nodded. “Great but I do gotta warn ya, doll. I gotta take Ironhead and Benny back to their place. Pope usually goes back to mines.” A ride home in a car full of teenage boys – what can go wrong?

The pair of you walk down to the school’s parking lot and there you see students laughing in their cars – 4 to 5 in a car – all while having a smoke and others are drinking from beer cans. You have no doubt that it’s beer cans when one gets tossed towards you with left over beer splattering over your white skirt. Frankie takes notice of the yellow stains and the grimace growing on your face. He looks over at the teenagers in a beat-up Chevy.

“Aye watch where ya tossin’ shit, birdbrain.” The teens look over at Frankie and walk over to him. You place a hand on his arm and look up at him.

“Frankie, c’mon. Let’s just go to your car, huh?” you plead. His arm tightens and as the teens arrive in front of him, Frankie protectively put you behind him and adjusts his jacket – a tick of his you’ve taken note of. The three boys who walked over to Frankie look over at you and smirk.

“Well shit Frankie, pal.” One of them takes a smoke and blows the out towards his side. “You already smashin’ up this little new betty? Don’t you work fast… first Michelle, then Tiffany, now this one?”

Frankie’s jaw tightens and his hold on your arm shifts. “How ‘bout you stuff it, Jack? You know you ain’t even supposed to be here. This ain’t your turf.”

Jack removes his hat, a cowboy hat he’s become fond of, and fixes his hair. He puts it back on and laughs. “You’re right, but I clearly don’t care. Oberyn ain’t out the can ‘till Friday, so I call the shots. My boys wanna be here and screw all these chick-a-dees, then they will. I know you ain’t gon’ do nothin’.”

“He will,” you hear a click and quickly turn your head to see Pope and the boys, Benny holding up a pocketknife. “But he ain’t doin’ it alone either.” The Bandits circle the three men and puff up their chests.

“Alright,” Jack holds his hands up. “We’re gone but trust me when I say that Oberyn ain’t gon’ be too happy to hear this.” With that he snaps his head over to his boys directing them back to their car. They turn to leave and Jack walks away backwards. When he’s satisfied with the distance between himself and The Bandits, he turns on his heel and runs to his car. He jumps in the driver’s seat, gives his girl a smooch, and revs the engine – with that he’s gone.

Pope looks at you and gives your shoulder a quick squeeze. “You good? Hope those bumrats ain’t spook ya too bad.” You shake your head and smile shyly. You look down at your ruined skirt and shrug.

“Just a ruined skirt but that’s okay. I wasn’t fond of it.” Will laughs at your comment fluffs yours skirt from the bottom, earning a nudge from Frankie.

“Let’s get her home, huh? I gotta drop off everyone else,” Frankie says. Tom tells Frankie that he’s got detention and to go on without him. Tom goes back towards the building while everyone piles up in Frankie’s Cherry Red 1945 Mustang GT – his father’s gift to him for his 15th birthday, also his last gift.

Per usual, Benny and Will leans the driver’s seat forwards and get in to sit in the back while Pope goes to sit in his usual spot as shotgun. Frankie tuts at Pope and points to the back. Pope scoffs but shoots Frankie a wink. He gets in and sits in between the brothers, being the smallest of the three, and Frankie runs over to open the door for you to sit up front. He grabs your books and hands them to Pope. As you situate yourself and buckle your seatbelt, Frankie gets in and turns on his baby. He revvs the engine and backs up out the school’s parking garage, but not before revving his engine one more time for the freshmen per Benny’s request.

On the drive to the brother’s house, Benny grabs your notebook and looks through your notes of the day. He looks through the math notes you took during 4th period and immediately closes it. “You sure are smart if you’re taking this angle stuff. I’m guessing it’s college prep?”

You look over your shoulder and nod. “I’m currently taking college preparatory trigonometry. They unfortunately didn’t have any other advanced placement for me here.”

The boys let out a harmony of “ohs” and Will shakes Frankie’s shoulder. “Frankie! She’s smart like you, buddy!”

Pope smirks and joins in on the teasing. “Lo vez, hermano! Being smart doesn’t make you un-cool. Being you does! No te hagas ver como el tonto porque no lo eres.”

You see, brother… don’t make yourself seem dumb because you aren’t.

You look at Pope and smile. “I agree with you, Santiago. Frankie is very intelligent so he shouldn’tdumb himself down because he thinks that’s what people think of him.” Pope stops and looks at you. “You know some Spanish, angel face?” You eagerly nod. “I’m very familiar with the language. They had us choose electives at my old school. I took Spanish, Italian, and French. I had a lot of a free time.”

Pope looks at you in shock but happily hollers. “Well sugar you sound pretty good speakin’ ‘em”

You couldn’t explain it, but you felt giddy. You felt happy to be around the boys and you knew you wanted to continue to be around them.

With Frankie getting out of the car and moving his seat forward, Will and Benny get dropped off first, but not without teasing him about “asking the chick.” Frankie flips them off and Pope lets out a belly laugh. Frankie apologetically looks at you and mouths sorry. You blush and mouth that’s okay.

Once leaving the brothers, Pope tells Frankie to turn up the radio. Frankie looks at Pope through the rearview mirror and narrows his eyes. “Switch to 12,” Pope says with a wink. Frankie rolls his eyes and turns the knob so the needle hits channel 12. Once Frankie hears the recognizable melody from “Takes Two to Tango” by Pearl Bailey. Frankie goes to switch the channel, but you stop his hand. He glances over to you and he sees you mouthing the words. He looks back at Pope who wiggles his eyebrows and sings out loud and to Frankie’s surprise, you join Pope singing at the top of your lungs. He laughs at your attempts at dancing in your seat and looks back at Pope who was waving his hands in the air.

Frankie thought that you’d be this proper, shy little thing but here you were having singing and laughing with his best friend. You gave him the slightest nudge and smiled in his direction. “C’mon Frankie. Don’t be a sour puss. I know you know this song!” You were right. He did know this song. He and Pope sang it so much because Pope thought he could woo some girl – he didn’t really know what the lyrics meant so you can guess what happened. If you guessed he slept with her… you’d be correct.

You poked Frankie in the ribs light enough to not affect his driving and giggled as he sang out with Pope. You liked seeing this Frankie – not that big tough guy you saw at the parking lot. He seemed like he had a big heart but was scared to show it and you were determined, but you were ripped away from your internal planning when Frankie politely asked for your address.

“It’s a shame you ain’t hangin’ longer sweetheart,” Pope began. “I think you’d like being around us two mucks. You would definitely like Frankie’s mom’s cooking. She makes the best food in town.” You smiled as the two best friends bickered about whose mom had the best food.

“I would have loved to, but I have to be home and do chores before my mother gets home.”

Frankie looks over to you and gives you a reassuring smile. “It’s alright. Maybe next time, cool?” You smile at the invitation and nod. Frankie continues to drive as you and Pope make a conversation about the possibility of you tutoring him in math. With them being high school seniors, they are not failing one class.

You feel on top of the world, laughing and talking with your new friends, until you spot the yellow Pontiac in the driveway and your mother coming out of it. Your face drops and the boys immediately take notice.

“What’s wrong?” Frankie asks. You straighten out your top and ask Pope for your books as you ready yourself to run out of the car. You look at Frankie and offer a weak smile.

“My mother won’t be happy with me is all.” You’d ask Frankie to drop you off a couple of houses before your own, but you know your mother has already seen you. As Frankie pulls up to your house, the boys’ jaws drop. You wouldn’t say your house was big, but to the boys, it was huge. Your two-story home consisted of 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. The exterior of the home was beige with dark brown trimming and the river rock pathway leading up to your home was lined with grass so green you’d think it was plastic.

Your mother, dressed to the nines in a pale pink dress and white belt, looks at the hot rod parked in front of her home and places her hands on her hips as she sees Frankie run out and open your door. Your mother would normally love seeing her daughter be treated by a gentleman, but she isn’t very happy to see that it’s Frankie. She has always dreamed of her daughter being courted by a young man in polished Oxford shoes and ironed pleated pants not a worn out leather jacket and dirty chucks.

You thank Frankie for the ride and look over at your upset mother. The boys say hello to her as she gives them the ungenuine smile of hers you have seen many times. You wave goodbye to both boys and begin to walk up to your mother. You hear whispers behind you and then you hear your mother say, “Is there something else you’d like to say, boy?”

You turn and you see Pope shove Frankie towards you. His face turns red as he sees your mother staring him down and he knows that this may not be the best time to ask you.

“On with it, young man. My daughter and I have work to do.”

Frankie once again runs his hand through his hair and clears his throat. “I- I, uh, I was wonderin’ if ya wanted to hang with us at Rosie’s on Friday. The shakes are pretty good so we could ma-“

“What’s your name, young man?” You look at your mother. You narrow your eyes at her for interrupting Frankie.

“It-It’s Frankie,” he stutters, “my name’s Frankie, ma’am.”

Your mother gives her less than friendly smile again. “Well, Frankie, you’ll understand where I’m coming from when I tell you this – you are not the kind of person I want my daughter befriending. You just don’t quite… how can I put this nicely? You don’t fit a mother’s standards.”

“Mother!”

“Quiet.” she tells you. “You will not be around these boys again, do you understand? Your father works too hard for you to just ruin your life like this. You asked to be taken out of the pristine private school we paid for you to go to and we allowed you to enroll in public school. Why are you bringing home some… some hoodlum! How can you do this to us?”

You wished this had surprised you, but it wasn’t the first time your mother disrespected your choice of friends. You huffed and you felt tears coming to your eyes as you saw Frankie’s defeated look in his eyes and Pope fighting the urge to get out of the car.

You mother calls your name, and you turn to look at her. She walks to you, heels clicking the pavement, and cups your jaw. “You will not associate yourself with these boys, do we understand each other?” You see Frankie nod to you and walk back to his car. You look back at your mother and nod. “Yes, Mother. I understand.” Your mother smiles at you and gives your cheek a pat. “Good girl. Now… get inside and put that skirt in the hamper. Your allowance is going towards a new skirt.”

She leads you into the house and you look back and see Frankie’s car is still there. You stop in your tracks and look at your mother. “Mother, may I please run back and grab a paper I left?”

“Is it school related?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Very well. Go grab it and say goodbye and come back in. We have to get dinner going.” You nod and run back to the car and your mother walks into the house.

Pope rolls down the passenger side window and both boys look at you. You smile at Pope and look at Frankie.

“Does Rosie’s Diner have sundaes?” Pope smirks and turns to Frankie while Frankie nods with a confused face. “Well,” you start, “If Friday’s invitation is still open, pick me up by the green house down the street at 6pm. She’ll be going to my grandmother’s house up north.”

“Sounds like a plan, doll.”

The light breeze surprises you as it picks up the more you walk down the street. You walk past two houses and you see the red backlights of the cherry red mustang you seemed to miss.

Your mother, thankfully, left to your grandmother’s home about two hours ago, much earlier than expected. She called not very long ago to make sure you were home and doing homework. You told her that you were planning to retire early as your homework began to give you a headache. She insisted you eat dinner and sleep as she didn’t want to see eyebags under your eyes when she got back tomorrow. She bid you goodnight and said she’d be home by tomorrow’s lunchtime. Once you hung the phone on the hook, you ran to your room and began to ready yourself for the night.

You grew giddy as 6 o’clock crept closer and closer. You had applied your blush and mascara so carefully you’d have thought you were dusting the finest of china. You did not want to wear too much makeup; you didn’t want to seem as though you were trying too hard. You picked out the pins out of the curls on your head you’d put up right when your mother left and watched as the soft and tight curls fell and framed your face. You grabbed your wide tooth comb and brushed the curls out, parting your side at a side so there was more hair and volume on one side. You sprayed a tight hold hairspray all over so you could make sure your hair stood – Frankie wouldn’t want to see frazzled hair, no man would, you thought.

As you went through your closet, you decided that a dress was the best choice as it was simple enough to either be dressed up or dressed down. You went with a white collared black dress with thin white windowpane patterned lines all over. You wore your black flats and added a black shiny belt running across the waist. You get closer to Frankie’s car and you see him get out of his car – you figured he had seen you coming.

“How ya doin’ there, doll?”

“Hello, Frankie.” You wave and get closer to him. Once you’re in front of him you fix his jacket lapel and look up at him. “Aren’t you sight for sworn eyes.”

His eyes widen then starts laughing loudly and your face goes red. He nearly falls in laughter as his hands catch himself on his knees. “W-What’d ya just say?”

“I said aren’t you a sight for sworn eyes,” you frown. “Is that not appropriate?”

He catches his breath and puts a hand on his belly. He reaches over and tucks your hair behind your ear with the other hand. “The saying is a sight for sore eyes, doll; not sworn eyes.”

You feel as if your face is about to burst as you start laughing at yourself. You just cannot believe you’ve messed up your first attempt at flirting with Frankie. “I was really sure it was sworn.”

He smiles brightly and shakes his head. “Hey… can’t say ya ain’t tried right?” You giggle and nod. He look you up and down and lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Te vez hermosa.” You look beautiful.

Have you ever had that feeling when there’s a puppy trying to get comfortable, but it can’t so it walks over to you and lays with you – falling into a deep and peaceful sleep? You know how it makes your heart feel as if it’s grown twice in size because the puppy chose you and trusted you to protect it while it slept? That’s how you felt when those words came out of Frankie’s mouth.

“Muchas gracias, Francisco.” Thank you very much, Francisco.

He playfully rolls his eyes at you and lets out a laugh. He points to the car and says, “get in the damn car.” He runs over to your door and lets you in, as per usual, and off you two went to Rosie’s Diner.

Frankie leads you into a bright neon-lit diner not very far from your home, about 25 minutes from your place. The diner stands out from the black concrete parking lot and pine trees decorating its background. He opens the light brown doors and places a hand on your lower back as you walk in – not too low or too high.

“Howdy’ho kiddos.” You’re greeted by a woman in her late 40’s or early 50s – the grey hair and sweet smile give it away. “Hey there, Frankie. Bandits meetin’ ya here?”

Frankie smiles at the woman, gives her a hug, and a quick kiss on the cheek; a kiss she smiles at and hums in content. “Hey Ro. Boys are comin’ in a while. You know they ain’t missin’ your special tonight.”

“There’s a special night every night for my favorite bandits, Frankie. Who’s this, huh? You finally bringin’ a girl for me to meet?” Frankie shakes his head from side to side smiling. He turns to you and introduces you to Rosie, the diner’s owner and one of his favorite people. “She’s new in town and I wanted to show her the best diner in the world.”

Rosie slaps Frankie’s arm and laughs. “Stop talkin’ sweet ‘fore your teeth rot, boy. You’re too pretty to be all gums now. I knew my boys were comin; your usual booth’s open, but take the table next to it, yeah. Ya need the extra seat ‘less you sittin’ the girl on ya lap.” Frankie begins to stutter a protest as you stifle a laugh.

“It’s very nice to meet you Miss Rosie. I’m in awe of your diner and excited to try your food.”

“Well it’s very nice to meet the girl who Frankie finally decided to bring to the diner. It’s a very special moment in his life ya know?” You cock your head to the side and take a quick glance at Frankie.

“Why’s that, Miss Rosie?”

As Rosie was about to explain the beginning of courtships of 99% of the teenagers in town, Frankie dragged you away with the dramatic excuse of being so hungry he can eat a horse and how he’ll drop dead if he doesn’t get a shake.

As you make it to the table Rosie had sent you to, you’d think that Frankie would have pulled out your chair, but a couple of some teens you remember seeing at school look in yours and Frankie’s direction whispering among themselves. You took a seat and looked at Frankie to ask if he knew them but as you were about to ask, you saw his face looking back at them with a deep stare. He gave them a single nod towards the door and to your surprise, they ran. Frankie scanned the room and he knew everyone would be taking in the scene. Frankie had never taken a girl out in public – especially not a girl like you. Sure people knew about other girls he’s been with, but everyone knew they weren’t together.

Frankie sat down after everyone in the diner turned their attention back to where it previously was and he passes you a diner menu, but still tense due to the eyes that locked with his back once more.

When the waitress you learned was named Vi and was obsessed with Will, Frankie had ordered a basket of fries for the two to share, a cherry soda for him and a sundae of your pick for you. Vi was also an older woman, best friends with Rosie, and had an innocent crush on Will’s blonde self. Frankie told you about the time Will brought Vi a bouquet of flowers for her birthday and Vi almost attacked the poor kid to the ground with kisses. Vi was sweet and she made you feel very good about yourself as she fixed your collar and fluffed your hair because “her Frankie needs to see what he’s got in front of him.”

You were nearly done with your sundae as you heard the distinctive pitch that is Benny’s voice as he said “What’s cookin’ good lookin’ don’t you look like a dream,” and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You greet each and every one of the boys as they take their seats around the table – Benny calling dibs on one of the seats next to you. Benny puts his arm around the back rest of your white chair and calls Vi over to place a new order.

As the night continues, you feel free. You feel so relaxed and at ease with the boys around you that you don’t even notice the dirty looks some girls were giving you. Benny puts his head on your shoulder and give his cheek a little pat resulting in Benny playfully trying to bite your hand. Frankie clears his throat and Benny looks over at him and smirks.

“I ain’t trynna steal ya girl, Frankie. If she hangin’ with us, ya gotta get used to us playin ‘round.”

Frankie turns red as Benny calls you “his girl” and rolls his eyes with a chuckle. He looks out the window and immediately tenses. You follow his gaze and see a 1942 black Ford with some boys in it – one of the being that Jack guy from school – revv its engine as it speeds back and forth through the parking lot. He grabs the boys eyes and directs them towards the window and Benny stands up immediately. The boys follow suit and Frankie turns to you.

“Stay here alright, doll? We’ll be back.”

You turn from Frankie to the window and back to Frankie with a worried look painting your face. “What’s going on Frankie?”

“They shouldn’t be here. This ain-“ You both turn at the sound of a crash and see Pope being held against Frankie’s car by a guy in a black tee with its sleeves rolled. Frankie runs out of the diner and you run after him. You know you shouldn’t be getting in between this, but you aren’t going to let anyone hurt your new friends.

Frankie runs up behind this guy, turns him around, and shoves him away from his car and friends. The guy smirks and nods at Frankie. “Did you miss me Frankie?”

“What the hell are you doing here, Oberyn? We already told ya friend there that this ain’t your turf.”

You had to admit, Oberyn had this strut to him that showed his self-confidence and the combination of his flirtatious smile and smoldering eyes only made him more attractive than he already was. Jack came to stand next to him and as he turned to toss some keys over to another friend of his, you caught sight of the word VIPERS with two snakes on the back of his jacket.

“Yeah… he told me ‘bout it. But ya anna know what else Jackie told me? He told me that ya got ya’self a knockout.” Oberyn locks eyes with you and winks. He tries to walk over to you, but Frankie pushes back and away from you.

“Don’t get near her.” Oberyn lets out a sarcastic chuckle and gets in Frankie’s face.

“How ‘bout ya make me, Morales?”

The next thing you knew, you were yelling and crying with Will held you away as you saw Frankie and Oberyn duke it out on the concrete while Benny and Pope tried to pry Oberyn away – Jack and some other guy pushing them away. You caught a glimpse of Frankie’s bruising cheek and Oberyn’s bloody nose. You only noticed the officer’s arrival once Will dragged you back in the diner and making sure Rosie held you back as he ran back to be by Frankie’s side when the local sheriff gets out the car.

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@ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @funerals-with-cake @seasonschange-butpeopledont

dreamboat | greaser!frankie | part three

photo credit

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader; greaser!frankie x f!reader

warnings: violence, mentions of racism towards latinos, cursing

dreamboat: part one | part two | part three

masterlist

Frankie has been in this cold and dark cement cell for what feels like months – it has been 19 hours. It was only 3 in the afternoon and would be in this cell until 5 when his mother got off work. He may have been 18 years old, but the sheriff did not care – especially being Frankie. Frankie would not stop pacing to and from one side of the 6-foot by 8-foot jail cell and the sheriff was getting quite annoyed.

“Frankie, ya want a metal cup to rattle against the bars or will ya quit bein’ dramatic? Stop pacin’ or you’ll make a hole through the cement, kid.” Frankie stops pacing and looks at the sheriff sitting at the desk situated in front of the holding cell. “Ya actin’ like ya goin’ to federal prison. Tu madre viene por ti a las cinco, hijo. Relajate.”

Your mother is coming for you at 5, son. Relax.

Frankie sits on the floor, putting his head in his hands. He lets out a sigh as he rubs his face. He looks back up at the smiling sheriff and raises an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

The sheriff takes a drink of his coffee and nods his head over at Frankie. “You are kid. Ya only got in a fight; ya didn’t hold up a bank.” He reaches in his desk’s cabinet and pulls out a silver flask. He pours a generous amount of a golden liquid in his coffee and goes to close the flask. He tuts as he looks back at the steaming black liquid and pours some more whiskey. This causes Frankie to laugh at the sheriff he came to know and like. The sheriff stands and walks over to Frankie, his mug of coffee in one hand and dragging his chair with the other. He places the chair in front of Frankie’s cell and takes a seat. He takes a swig of his coffee and looks at Frankie.

“I hope ya know your mom is goin’ to have a cow when I tell her why you’re in here.”

Frankie smirks and nods. “Ya ain’t tell her, yet?”

“What? That ya gave Oberyn a beatin’ ‘cause he was givin’ ya shit? Hell, that little bastard deserved it. If I don’t tell ya mom, you will.”

“Yeah? Well he was cruisin’ for a bruisin’. He should’a seen it comin’. Next time I see that cat, he’s gettin’ more than a couple’a shiners,” Frankie huffed. All he was able to give Oberyn was a good black eye and a couple of other bruises. The sheriff got called the second the boys went outside. He knew Rosie must have called the sheriff, but Frankie couldn’t be mad. The boys promised Rosie that there would be no confrontations in front of the diner – they did not do that last night. “Why I gotta tell my mom for? Aint you the sheriff? Shouldn’t ya be the one to tell ‘er why I’m in the can?”

The sheriff takes a deep breath and sighs. “Frankie, listen to me.” Frankie scoffs and rolls his eyes, waiting for the sheriff’s spiel about being responsible for his mother’s sake.

The sheriff sits straight and places his mug on the floor. He clears his throat and speaks to Frankie in the tone Frankie knows to shut up and listen. “Francisco, you listen here you little shit. You been in this very cell three times now, Tom having the record of 38, and ya feel like what? Ya feel like ya cool or somethin’? Ya mom already don’t like the friends ya hang with, except for Santiago. Ya think she likes seein’ you behind these,” the sheriff bangs on the metal bars for emphasis, “bars here? Now, I ain’t ya daddy, son. Nobody will ever compare to the man ya father was, but I know good and damn well he wouldn’t wanna see his only kid behind these bars. That man fought too fuckin’ hard for you and ya momma for you to be fuckin’ up ya life.”

Frankie stands up and leans against the cell, holding a metal bar in each hand. “’The fuck ya on about? You said it ya’self! I just got in’a fight. How’s that fuckin’ up my life?”

The sheriff stands up and gets close to Frankie. “Watch ya tone with me, boy. I ain’t one of your little friends to be gettin’ an attitude with, got it? You know that little betty you had ‘round ya arm? Her momma don’t like ya. Her momma got her head way up her ass, she don’t like anyone whose shoes aren’t new every day.”

Frankie chuckles at this.

“Hell she don’t even like me very much and I’m the law. Ya think she wants her daughter ridin’ round town with ya? Ya like her right? The more you get behind these bars, the further you get from her, you got it?”

Frankie nods as he walks away from the sheriff and sits on the concrete bench with a slump. The sheriff lets out a sigh and drags his chair back to the desk, taking a big gulp of his coffee. He grabs his newspaper and flicks it to straighten it out. He looks at Frankie and frowns. He decides to give Frankie one last piece of advice – something he promised himself he’d never use but he knew the young man needed to hear it.

“Francisco,” he says to catch Frankie’s attention. He continues even if Frankie doesn’t look at him, he knows he’s listening. “Tu padre murió por ti. El murió para que tu vivieras la vida que deseabas. Yo sé que este estilo de vida no es para ti y si lo eliges, entonces tu padre murió por nada.”

Frankie’s head snaps up and watches as the sheriff stands and walks out for a smoke. Frankie knew the sheriff wanted to leave the room for air because he would always smoke inside. From this moment to a quarter after 5, Frankie remained silent and still as he pondered on what the sheriff had said to him.

Your father died for you. He died so you could live the life you wanted. I know this lifestyle is not for you and if you choose it, then your father died for nothing.

As much as he wanted to cry and fight the sheriff, Frankie knew that the sheriff spoke only truth. Frankie’s father would have been incredibly disappointed, which only hurts Frankie the more he thought of it. The sheriff said that his father died for him and it’s true. If his father would have put Frankie’s name on that sign up, Frankie would have been dead by now. Instead of drafting 18-year old’s as stated, the US became desperate and sent off 16-year old’s with the promise of compensation for their families – that didn’t ever happen.

Frankie heard rapid heels clicking coming from the corridor and he knew it was his mother.

“Francisco Morales! ¿En qué pendejada te metiste ahora? Fue por ese Thomas, verdad? Ni se te ocurra mentirme.”

Francisco Morales! What bullshit did you get into this time? It was because of that Thomas, right? Do not even think about lying to me.

“Hi Mom.” Frankie sadly says. His mother holds up one finger at Frankie and turns to the sheriff. She offers him a tired smile and a quick hug.

“Ahora que hizo, Javier? Por favor dime que me lo puedo llevar a casa.”

What did he do now, Javier? Please tell me I can take him home.

Frankie hears his mother say. She sounds as if she’s about to burst into tears, her voice pleading and shaky. Frankie immediately feels a wave of guilt wash over him. He saw his mother break apart when they lost his father and was thrown as being the sole breadwinner – he couldn’t put her through pain again.

“Yes, Monica, you can take him. He just had a run in with that Oberyn kid again.” Frankie’s mother lets her head fall back as she groans. She looks back at Frankie and shakes her head.

“How many times do I have to tell you to ignore that boy, Frankie? He isn’t worth getting into it with. Did Tom throw you into it? He can never fight his own battles and he threw Santiago in last time. Pope’s lucky Javier called me and not his mom - poor woman would have a heart attack.”

Frankie shakes his head. “No mom. I got myself in it.” Frankie looks at Javier, the sheriff, and Javier gives him an assuring nod. “The boys and I took the new girl in town out to Rosie’s and Oberyn decided to ruin the night as usual. He just got out the can so he was lookin’ for a fight I guess.”

His mother and Javier stride over to Frankie. Javier unlocks the cell, allowing Frankie to come out and hug his mother. His mother gives him a kiss on the cheek and holds his face in her hands.

“Francisco, I know you thought you were doing the right thing. Did Oberyn lay a hand on the girl?”

“If I hadn’t punched him, he probably would’ve.”

Monica, his mother, gives her son a warm smile. “If you got in here for defending someone because you thought it was the right thing to do, then okay. I suppose what done is done, but I never want to see you behind bars ever again. Tal vez tengas 18 años, pero todavia te doy una paliza, cabrón.” she jokes - well half-jokes.

You may be 18 years old, but I’ll still beat your ass, dumbass.

As Frankie and his mother collect his things and sign the necessary paperwork, Javier calls for Frankie’s attention. He simply tells him “remember our little talk, Frankie. I ain’t try’na see you behind those bars again.”

A little talk Frankie will always remember and think about every day.

Frankie knew he should be going to his fifth and sixth periods, but he had already missed the first four, so why they hell not miss. He wanted to because he wanted to see you after the fiasco, but he was nervous. You saw him fight, get arrested, and get dragged away by Javier. He saw your eyes widen and fill with fear when he spat out blood and get put into handcuffs.

“So ‘Fish… where’s that little dolly of yours? You two get it on yet?” Redfly says. “Oh wait… ya been in the can!” The Bandits all laugh and Santiago slaps his knee while Will wheezes at the thought of Frankie in jail. Frankie takes a drag of his cigarette, staring at his friends and offering an eye roll.

“Alright laugh it up. I made it out, didn’t I?”

“yeah,” Santiago starts, “that’s only cause Javi likes us. If it were Oberyn in there, Javi would’a still had his ass locked up.” Pope gives his best friend a slap on the shoulder paired with a laugh and a quick just kiddin’ buddy.

The bell rings and the sea of people wave into the hallways. The boys bid farewell to each other, Will and Frankie walking to their class together. Will was the first to spot you in the crowd of people. He saw you walk with a student you had all your classes with; Maxwell Lorenzano, or Max Lord as he liked to be called now. The Bandits knew him, they knew him very well.

Max was a soc kid who would hang out with the other popular socs, but in actuality, Max was another Latino kid whose family were more like the Bandits. Both of his parents were greasers, and they knew what it was like to work hard yet not have a lot. His father worked all the time as a mechanic and his mother was a stay-at-home mom. His dad was always working on a motorcycle that would become his son’s first ride, but then something in Max changed. His whole life, Max wore a leather jacket and slicked back hair, not caring what the world thought of him, but as the times went on, the bullying got worse.

Just like Frankie, Max’s family was not always welcomed, but his aunt’s family was. His aunt was a greaser too, but her husband was a complete socialite. His family created and owned an oil business which allowed them to want for nothing. When Max saw the acceptance his aunt had received from her in-laws, it was a flipped switch. He asked to work with his uncle to learn all about the business. His uncle was elated to find out his nephew wanted to leave the “delinquent” life and become a businessman. Max’s face was plastered on the company’s ads and the popular kids wanted to be friends with him. He was accepted as a soc and even though his parents were upset, Max wasn’t entirely honest at school.

Max still worked on his dad’s motorcycle project. He still had his leather jackets and wore them at private family gatherings. He still knew the slang and attitude. He was still loyal to the people who liked him for him.

Max and The Bandits looked after each other as brothers. Even though he was not officially a member, Max had his BANDITS leather jacket at home, hung and clean. In order to keep his soc image at school, Max and the boys pretended to hate each other. Max pretended to be disgusted with their way of life and would throw insults here and there when the other kids would.

When Max saw Will and Frankie coming their way, Will gave him a discreet nod and Max reciprocated.

“Look what the cat dragged in… a couple of worthless hoodlums.” Max said. He turns to you and says, “C’mon, you shouldn’t associate yourself with these… things.” You look up and meet Frankie’s beautiful eyes. He seemed as if he wanted to jump out and say something to you but couldn’t.

“Don’t get yourself twisted up, Lord. Your little petty pants will wrinkle,” Will snickers.

Max rolls his eyes at him. “Move out of our way, Miller. We’ll be late.”

Will laughs and moves out of the way and gestures for him to walk. “C’mon, Polo. Keep it movin’.”

As you walk past the boys, Will offers a quick hey and you answer with a smile. You walk away, but Frankie calls you by name, causing you to stop and take a breath. You ask Max to give you a minute, him checking his watch and agreeing. You walk up Frankie and look at him, silently asking him to continue.

“I… I- Hi. How are you?” Frankie sputters out. He mentally slaps his forehead and cursing at himself. Is that the best he can do?

“I’m doing fine, thanks.” you quietly say.

Frankie tries to put together a mix of words, but none of it is coherent. Will lets out a loud and obnoxious sigh and puts his arm around Frankie’s shoulders.

“Catfish here wanna know if you wanna hang with’im after school. How ‘bout it sweetheart? The guy just got out the can and in need of company.” You raise an eyebrow at Will.

In need of company?

Max lets out a sarcastic laugh and walks to you, grabbing your arm and pulling you away.

“Her mother would have her head if she were caught with you guys again. You already got her in trouble once; no need for it to happen again.”

You look back at Frankie, silently apologizing, but in the end, Max was right.

When you got home that night, Will assured you that nobody would talk about it. The next day, your mother came back furious and you were ultimately grounded for being seen with those boys. Your father was not too happy either, but was mainly concerned about your safety, which was a valid concern. Your mother demanded for you to never talk to Frankie or she would have to take action.

What action? You were not too sure.

No matter how hard Frankie tried to talk to you, Max would either pull you away saying he needed your help, or your teacher would ask him to quiet down. Frankie was not one to give up, but he also did not want to be a pain in your side. He felt as if the odds were against him, but he was going to get you to talk to him one way or another – at least a single hello in the hallway so he does not feel as if he messed up entirely.

It was now Wednesday, and The Bandits sat at one of the outside tables by the cafeteria. They “joked” with people, rough housed as usual, having a good day so far, but when the soc table kept staring, the boys didn’t feel so cheery.

“Fuck ya lookin’ at, soc? You got a starin’ problem?” Tom yells.

“You should get daddy’s money to check that out,” Benny continues. Frankie turns in his seat and looks at the group of the popular rich kids sitting at the opposite table from them. He lets out a sigh, letting it pour out of his nose, as he sees you sitting next to Max at that same table. When he gets a chance to really see you, he sees red.

Michael, the school’s top athlete, has his arm around you and you appear to be uncomfortable – something Frankie never wanted to do. You look around awkwardly as Michael stands up and confidently walks over to the boys, other soc boys in tow.

“Look here boys. A bunch of nothings thinking they’re something,” Michael says. The soc boys all laugh and Tom remains tall, chest puffed out.

“Ya better watch what ya sayin, Mikey. Wouldn’t want ya to get hurt.” Tom rebuttles.

Two of the boys behind Michael walk up to the Miller brothers, a bit shorter than the two but still reeking of false confidence.

“You three must be tired of carrying these two brown boys, huh? Always quiet and only get involved when they’re forced.”

Max walks over to Michael, you trailing behind him, and tells Michael to stop and to come back to the table. Michael refuses, asking Max if he is worried about him hurting his own kind. You gasp and get in front of Max, facing Michael.

“How dare you? You dare call Max a friend and still, you berate him and these boys,” you start, motioning to the Bandits, “because they aren’t “your kind?” I’ll have you know that these boys are some of the most intelligent people I have ever met, a lot smarter than you.”

“Is that so, sweetheart? You think these delinquents are worth getting in trouble?” To this, you give him a confused look. “You think your mom hasn’t gone around rambling about how her daughter was seen with the worst kids in town? These guys bring their parents shame. Well… except Francisco over there… he got his old man killed.”

Michael barely got his final word out before he was on the floor holding his bleeding jaw Santiago caused. Santiago grabbed his hand in pain; it was a while since he punched someone so suddenly like that. No matter the pain, he wasn’t about to let the spoilt rich kid get away with insulting his best friend and his best friend’s father.

You look over to Frankie, who is still sitting at the bench stone faced. How could he just sit there after Michael insulted him and his father? You go to walk to him but Max pulls you, walking away telling you that you’ll talk to him later.

“I’m taking you home after school, okay? Michael called a meeting after school and I told him I’ll be there when I get you home,” Max explained. He talked fast and seemingly out of breath. He knew something was going to go down – no one drops Michael like that without consequences.

“Why are you worried? Max, is something going to happen?” You ask. He looks around and explains to you what has happened when Michael wants revenge. From legal actions to physically hurting someone, Michael will stop at nothing to make himself look strong and important. Max just told you to be careful and to stay inside.

And something must have happened because Max came knocking down your door and asking your mother if it was okay if he took you around town. Your mother oddly was happy to agree and Max piled you in the car. He drove fast and parked inside a green home’s garage. For a second, you were terrified that Max was forced to bring you to Michael, but soon let out a breath of relief when you saw Will come into the garage and greet you.

“Alright, Maxie,” Will said. “What is so important and secretive that you called us all here and brought her along?” Frankie adjusted his hat, a baseball cap that suited him quiet well, and played with his hands.

“We have to hide Frankie’s car. Now.” Max stated rapidly.

Frankie’s head shot up and the boys all together threw questions as to why we had to temporarily get rid of Frankie’s car.

“Max. What are we hiding my dad’s car for?” Frankie asks. His voice is quiet and laced with worriedness.

Max takes a deep breath and apologetically looks straight into Frankie’s eyes.

“Michael’s planning on crushing your car.”

dreamboat taglist:

@ickleronniekinsemotionalrange​ @funerals-with-cake​ @seasonschange-butpeopledont​

taglists and requests are open!

dreamboat | greaser!frankie | part four

pairing: frankie morales x reader; greaser!frankie x reader

warning: cursing, talking down, and feels

a/n: listen… I know the song mentioned in this part was released before their time and I’ve tried my hardest to stay within this timeline but it just went so well. sue me. also... do ya’ll like the moodboard i did? c:

part one | part two | part three | part four

masterlist

No matter what you were doing, homework or chores, your mind is always drifting off to Frankie. 

and so did Frankie’s.

The urge to talk to him became stronger every time you saw him in class because you truly enjoyed his company. You liked him because he never tried to be someone he was not - he was true to himself.

You were enamored by the way he spoke so passionately about his mother and his favorite pastimes. You felt a ripple of joy when you had seen his eyes light up when you complimented his father’s car. You also caught yourself giggling like a schoolgirl at the sight of his cheeks reddening at your comment about his “cute dimple.” 

You may have not known Frankie for long, but from the time you’ve spent with him, the more at ease you felt. 

Frankie didn’t miss the quick glances you shot his way, but he also knew you didn’t miss the way he paid more attention to the way you adjusted your pencil when you tried to understand the day’s lesson than to the lesson itself. 

Frankie took a mental note at the fact that you took great pride with your hair. Even though there were endless ways of styling your hair, Frankie’s favorite was your go to up-do with a ribbon that always matched your skirt. It was simple, yet so elegant at the same time. 

You packed your grey spiral notebook and #2 pencils in your school bag and settled the leather strap on your right shoulder. Your class let out early, which you were thankful for. You were tired from running to your first period after missing the bus and having to catch a ride with Max - making him late in the process. You walk into the hallway, ready to take the stairs for your math class when you hear a throat clear behind you. You assumed it wasn’t for you and as you placed a hand on the handrail, you hear Frankie speak your name.

You look back and flash him a tired smile. “Good morning, Francisco.” You check the giant black and white clock and cough up a chuckle. “Actually, good afternoon.”

Frankie looks around to see students’ eyes widen when they hear you call him Francisco. Shit, Frankie thinks. 

“C’mon baby.” Frankie silently chastises himself. “Don’t be runnin’ that pretty little mouth with my government name ‘round here.”

You stood dumbfounded. “Excuse me?” 

Frankie leans back on the cement wall and chuckles. “Y’heard me… Listen sweetheart. I-” He abruptly stops and glares at the gawking students. Freshman, he thinks.

“Was I talkin’ to you? Get the fuck outta here before I give ya a reason to stare.” and with that they scram. You frown and scoff.

“Goodbye, Frankie.”

“No.” He gently grabs your arm and turns you back to him. “Can we please talk? You’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

“Frankie let go of me.” You tug on your arm, trying to set it free from is grasp. “I’ll be late for math class.”

Frankie lets out a laugh, the laugh you liked hearing. “It’s a short day,” he says. “School’s out for the day.”

“Is today Wednesday?” you question.

Frankie nods and smiles, revealing his perfect dimple. “You got a ride home? Lorenzano told me you got him detention.”

Your mouth drops. “He got detention? Oh no! That was not my intention at all! I was let off easy.” You shake your head in disbelief. “If he’s in there I should be too. Excuse me, Frankie.”

Frankie throws his head back in laughter and holds you in place. “I’m kiddin’, doll. I just saw ‘em leave with Goldilocks.”

“Goldilocks?”

“Michael, sweetheart. I gotta teach ya these names. He was your ride, wasnt he? How ‘bout I take ya home?”

You rub the back of your neck and shake your head slowly. “That won’t be the best idea, Frankie.”

“‘Cause of ya folks?” You nod and decide your shoes are much more interesting to look at than the brown swirls of chocolate that rest in his eyes.

“What do they say ‘bout me?” You look back up and your eyes shift to a doe-like look.

“C’mon dolly. Just tell me.”

You shift your weight from one foot to the other as you bite your lip, trying to find the words to say. “They said you aren’t what I need to be seen with. That your only goal in life is to ruin what they worked so hard to have. My mother said you were only going to use me for the opportunities I earn and use them for yourself and that I should just forget you.” You let out a deep sigh and look into his eyes.

You see his jaw shift side to side and take in a deep breath. He looks at you and says, “and do you believe them?”

“No. Not one bit.”

Frankie takes one of your hands into his and smiles. “Good. I won’t make you any more late to the bus than I already have.” Frankie gestures to the hallway that stretches down and meets the entrance of the building. 

“But I do have a question for you.” You nod, motioning for him to continue. “You wanna go on a ride with me?

“I thought you hid your car?”

“I never said anything about my car. How ‘bout it, dolly? Let me take you on a joy ride.”

You hesitate and Frankie notices this. “Do you trust me?”

He continues to play with your fingers and you give his hand a small squeeze.

“I do.” you smile. “Pick me up at the same spot as the last time, okay?”

———

You can’t help but feel worried, yet excited all at the same time. When you heard the roar of Frankie’s motorcycle, a smirk crept up and planted itself at your lips. You turned and saw Frankie ride up and park right next to you, kicking the stand and stabilizing the bike before walking over to you.

“So this is what you meant by a ride, huh?” Frankie smiled proudly and nodded. “Yep. This here is Delta. Finally finished her a couple months back. Whatd’ya think? Ain’t she a beaut?”

You walked around the bike, analyzing it and committing her details to memory. “She’s a Harley FL? She looks like a ‘41 or ‘42.”

Frankie looks back at you with an amused look. “You know bikes?”

You smiled and nodded. “My uncle owns a shop upstate.” You comment. “His prized possession is a 1935 Vincent Comet. He’s very proud of it. It doesn’t move, but it looks nice.” You joke. 

“I think I just fell in love with you, doll. You can’t just whip this on me so suddenly.” You laugh with him and smile to yourself.

I think I just fell in love with you, doll. 

“Before we go, I need you to wear this.” He says handing you a silver and red helmet. You frown and pat the crown of your head. “But it’ll frizz and flatten my hair”

He pulls a white bandana from the inside of the helmet and hands it to you. “It won’t, trust me. My mom wears this all the time and her hair is still higher than the empire state.”

“I do trust you, Frankie.” You chuckle. You bring his hands, bandana in between, and motion for him to tie it for you. This brings him close. His face is close to yours - his lips closer than ever. 

He ties it in place and cups your cheek. Your eyes are glued on each other and that feeling of being content flows back into your system. He clears his throat and hands you the helmet, unbuckling it before you take it into your hands.

He helps you onto the back of the bike and before he can get on, you spot his school bag tied to the side of the bike. “What’s with the bag?”

“It has something for us. Don’t worry, doll. You’ll see soon.”

———

Who knew this place had such a view. Frankie drove up through windy roads, the elevation making your ears pop, but the result was breathtaking. He pulled up to a flat section of the mountain, nearly at the top, and you could see the navy image of the mountain range serving as the background of the miniscule outline of the town.

Frankie helps you off the bike, placing a helmet on each of the handles. He unties his bag for the bike, grabbing your hand and leading you towards a grassy area. He opens his bag revealing a squared white tablecloth, snapping it and placing it on the ground. He helps you onto the fabric and allows you to get settled before he sits and re-opens his bag. He snaps his bag shut and looks at you. He calls your name, and you give him your full attention, which he has had from the beginning.

“Would you like to have a picnic with me?” he shyly says. Your cheeks burn at the sight of his timidity. “I would love to, Frankie.”

From his bag, he pulls two glass soda pop bottles nestled in paper napkins, two wrapped sandwiches, candy bars, and a bag of potato chips. He sets your share of the foods in front of you and sets the candy choices in front of both of you.

“I didn’t know what candy your favorite was, or if you even eat candy, but I brought us some options.” He proudly says. In front of you were a plethora of candy: snickers, gummi bears, kit-kats, m&ms, junior mints, and tootsie pops. You grabbed your favorite and thanked him.

You weren’t used to be treated with the amount of kindness as Frankie was giving you. You had been courted before, but they all believed that gifts were the way to your heart, but, you just wanted a good conversation.

“Frankie, can I ask you a question?”

“You can ask me anything you want, doll.”

“Why are you so set on being around me?”

Frankie shrugs, opening his sandwich. “You’re a cool chick.”

You nod in agreement and giggle. “Alright… You’re a cool cat too Frankie… well when you’re not getting arrested.”

Frankie playfully rolls his eyes and lets out a loud groan. “That was one time.”

You give him a nudge and when you are certain he’s looking; you start to mock him.

“Please Mr. Jailer…. Won't you let my man go free…”

Frankie lets out a hearty laugh. “That’s unfair!”

“Please Mr. Jailer,” you continue. “Won't you let my man go free.” You both cackle and howl until you’re out of breath.

“C’mon! How ‘bout ya give my criminal record a break and eat your sandwich!”

You looked at the plastic wrapped sandwich and grinned. “Did you make these yourself?” He nods with a mouthful of food and hums uh huh. You enthusiastically unwrap the sandwich and take a big bite. You let out a moan in delight as the flavor of seasonings attack your tastebuds. It’s not too spicy, but it’s also not bland – making it one of the best sandwiches you’ve ever had.

“This is amazing. What’s in it?”

“Um.. swiss cheese, a mayo and chipotle sauce thing my mom put together, crushed chips, and seasoned chicken. My mom wanted to be different and used chicken instead of ham, I guess.”

“Well tell your mom that she’s a genius. This is incredible.”

Frankie sniggered. “I’ll pass it along. She’s an excellent cook. You’ll have to try it sometime.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

You both sat and ate quietly. No words were spoken – simply taking in the scenic view. You look over to Frankie, only to see him in a daze. There was a question that lingered in your mind and although you didn’t want to ruin the moment, you knew you had to ask. You whisper his name, hoping he would hear it, and he did. He slowly turned over to you and uttered a low yes.

“Why do you act differently when we’re together in public than in private?” You vocalized the confusion that lingered in your mind from the moment he flipped a switch at school. “You’re sweet, smart, and caring while we’re here doing this, but all you do at school is curse, skip class with the boys, and disrespect anyone that looks at you a little too long.”

Frankie knew this conversation would come. He didn’t think you would notice his attitude changes, yet here you were. He lets a sigh be exhaled through his nose as he shakes his head. “You just wouldn’t understand.”

“I don’t. That’s why I’m asking.”

“I act the way I do because that’s what people expect. They expect someone like me to fail and…You have no idea what this town… what these people… can do to you.”

“Frankie… I may not know what you’ve gone through in life, but what I do know is that you have my shoulder to lean on and my ears to listen when you need it the most. I like seeing this Frankie.” You sit up, resting your weight on your legs, and reach for his hand. “The Frankie that gets good grades and has a great sense of respect and responsibility – not the Frankie I saw at school today.”

He looks down at your interlocked hands and lets out a content breath. Frankie gives your hand a squeeze and gazes at you – not at your eyes… this look goes much deeper than that.

“Does your mother really believe I’d use you and toss aside the one person that decided to get to know me before they wanted nothing to do with me?”

You shrug, knitting your eyebrows. “She can think what she wants to think – just know that’s not the way I do.”

A cool breeze picks up as you continuously play with each other’s hands and sit comfortably in close proximity. Frankie reluctantly lets go of your hand and shimmies out of his leather jacket. He wraps it around your shoulders, making sure your exposed arms are somewhat covered. You take a lapel in each hand, pulling on them to wrap yourself with the jacket. Frankie’s heart skips a beat as he takes a mental picture of the way you looked wearing his jacket.

Frankie sits back down, but you nudge your way closer and closer to him. You feel like melting as you smell his cologne, from the jacket and himself.

“What are you going to do about Michael?”

Frankie looks taken aback from the sudden question. “Don’t worry that pretty little head about him. The boys and I will handle the trust fund baby. I’ll figure it out.”

“Are you going to get hurt?”

Frankie stretches his arm out, a quiet plea for you to come closer. You oblige and he immediately wraps his arm around you, placing a chaste kiss atop you head. “I don’t know.”

You put your head on his shoulder and hug him, both arms around him. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“No one will get hurt if Mikey boy plays his cards right.” You look up and see his softened face, but stern eyes. The thought of Michael alone burns a flame in Frankie, a reaction he had no actual reasoning behind.

You stay like this for a few minutes, but you decide to lighten the mood.

“Psst…” you say. Frankie looks down at you with kind eyes.

“I know that no other… One will ever do… And I know that the answer's…All up to you.” you sing.

Frankie sniggers and rolls his eyes, but nevertheless joins you.

“Please Mr. Jailer… Won't you let my man go free.”

———

dreamboat taglist:

@ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @funerals-with-cake @seasonschange-butpeopledont @danniburgh​ @curiouskeyboard

taglists + requests are open!

Getting Lost in Translation (Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x desi!reader)

Masterlist

Warnings: Violence, mentions of torture, mentions of PTSD, mentions of trafficking (drug and human), non-sexual nudity, swearing

Word Count: 5.4 k

Summary: You go undercover with Santiago Garcia to get information about a drug/human trafficking cartel. 

A/N: Take a shot every time I say “dupatta” and you’ll end up in the hospital (sorry). Also is it really a Santiago fan fic if you don't mention his gammy knees AHAHAHA <333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your POV

You’ve always enjoyed the quiet village life, with people who lived real lives, rather than the calculated and time managed life that you had to endure when growing up. You were grateful for your upbringing in a well-to-do household which allowed you to study and grow up in comfort. 

After five years of medical school and two years working as a doctor in a city hospital, you decided that it was time to give back to the community that needed help the most. One day, you quit your job and never turned back, cutting off all contact with your family, working as an English and Science teacher at a small village in Tamil Nadu, India. You used your knowledge of languages to help the folks of the village by acting as a translator with those who offer foreign aid. 

You woke up at the crack of dawn and went to bed when the moon was up high in the sky. It was tough but you loved every second of it. You were finally happy. 

That was until something horrible started happening in your village. Children were going missing and you started spending your time comforting distraught parents. These were children that you taught in the small school and your heart ached with every second that they were gone. 

The police had done some investigation of their own and found out that the kids’ disappearance was linked to a trafficking ring, which made you feel helpless and you almost lost yourself with the worry that you were experiencing. 

Nevertheless, you had to get it together and find some type of solution to help these families, and after weeks of requesting for aid, you were finally due to meet the group of individuals who would help find these kids. 

So here you were standing with the police at the airport, waiting. They had told you that they would be there at 1 pm but apparently their flight from Miami had been delayed. You nervously fiddle with your big jimmikis as your eyes scan the people coming out of arrivals. Suddenly, you spot a team of big burly western men walking towards you and the officers. 

“That’s them, isn’t it, officer.” You say in Tamil to the police officer beside you. 

“Yes, ma.” he replies, waving them towards where they were standing. 

“Hi! I’m Y/N and I’ll be your translator while you are here.” you say, stepping up, offering your hand to the nearest of the men. 

A tall man with a baseball cap that said ‘Standard Heating Oil’ took your hand and shook it, quickly introducing his team as they loaded their luggage into the trucks. “I’m Frankie, this is my team. The brothers, Benny and Will on the far left, Tom in the middle and Santiago on my right.”

“Nice to meet all of you.” you say, giving them a toothy grin, which they all returned except for the man with salt and pepper curls, Santiago. His face was arranged into a calculated and poised manner that showed little to no emotion. 

You quickly translated a few conversations between the group of men and the police before getting into the van and a few minutes later, the van was speeding towards the outskirts of the city towards the village that was about two hours away. You stayed silent throughout the ride, choosing to admire the scenery outside, occasionally eavesdropping on the conversations that the men were having behind you.

They seemed like a chummy bunch and you were briefed about the field experience that they had, which made you feel slightly better about letting them take hold of the ropes and find these children. The van abruptly stops and you peak to the front to see what was going on. A cow was crossing the road, a regular occurrence here in India.

“I heard people here worship cows, Will.” one of the men says, making you turn to look at them with a disdainful look on your face. 

“We do not worship cows, we respect them. Many people here consider the cow to be a sacred symbol of life that should be protected and revered.” You say, pointedly, trying not to roll your eyes at the men.

Santiago and Frankie chuckled.

“Oopsie, sorry, missy.” said Benny with a smile, leaning his weight forward onto the seat in front of him. 

“See Benny, they don’t worship your girlfriend.” Will says, earning a punch from Benny. 

“She said, respect boys.” Frankie said, sending an unyielding glare at the both of them. He was clearly the mother goose of the team and the other two men actually listened to him. 

“You sound incredibly eloquent for someone who is living in a small rural village. What’s your story?” Tom asked.

“Studied in the UK and worked as a doctor for a few years and decided that there are a lot of people who need help in outskirt villages.” you shrug. “I also speak multiple languages to help with foreign aid.” 

“Impressive.” Tom nods, approvingly.

“So you guys are used to working together?” you asked, awkwardly trying to keep the conversation a float, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Oh yea,” Frankie says “We’ve always been a team and we were tracking the same cartel that we think is operating throughout South India and other parts of the world for quite a while now, that's why we answered to your distress signal. We believe that it is a human trafficking organization as well as a drug trafficking organization.” 

“Those poor children, I know them personally. I can’t imagine what they are going through right now.” you say biting your bottom lip, swallowing the tears that are threatening to bubble out of your eyes.  

“You personally know them?” Will asks.

“Yea, they are my students,” you say. “Very bright kids, quick learners.”

Just as Frankie opened his mouth to ask another question, the van stopped again, signifying that you had arrived at your destination. You adjusted your dupatta, draping it ever so lightly over your hair, smoothed your kurta top and stepped out of the van, waiting for the men to follow you out. 

You led them to the house of the village head and instructed them to remove their boots and socks before entering. Santiago groaned as he bent down to pull his socks off and you heard a light fluster of pain. You waited for him to finish and you followed him into the house.

Tom started to explain their plan, and where they are planning to infiltrate this group. You rapidly translate the information to the village head, taking down some notes yourself. You were impressed by the amount of detail put together in this plan. The intel that they had already collected showed that the children are being kept alive in a village not far from here. If everything went smoothly, the kids would be back with them. But then came the tricky situation.

“We will need someone to come with one of us to stay in the opposite village so that we can make sure that the information we got isn’t bogus without drawing attention to ourselves.” Santiago finally spoke. 

You were slightly taken aback by his voice. It was soft but had an edge to it that tickled you. His slight accent sounded pleasantly melodious to your ears but still maintained an air of authority that could quiet a room in an instant. You blinked, focusing on the information that he had just said, translating it to the village head.

You wait for him to respond and you sigh when he does.

“He wants me to go.” you say to Santiago, looking him in his eyes for the first time, holding his gaze. Santiago stares back, his eyes unwavering.

“And rightfully so, you have medical skills and can pass off as a villager.” Tom says, nodding. 

“Then I’ll go with you.” Santiago says. 

“Do you have a plan on how you are going to disguise yourself?” you ask.

“Yea, I was thinking of going in as a deaf and mute man,” he says.

“Great, I can sign, this will go perfectly.” you say finalizing it.

“Good job, team, now we can start the preparation.” Tom said, finalizing the meeting.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The police had gotten you and Santiago a small hut to live in at the outskirts of the opposite village for him to do his reconnaissance. You both were to pose as husband and wife and they had given you a fake thaali to be worn on a yellow string around your neck to signify your marriage. You slyly noticed that Santiago didn’t wear a ring, unlike Frankie and Tom but you assumed that he had a girlfriend somewhere in America. 

“Hold still,” you tell him, wrapping your old dupatta around his face to conceal his identity. He wanted to go into the markets where most of the town gossip would buzz about. He was dressed in some clothes that were given to him by the village head and had his bulletproof vest under it. 

“I am holding still, your hands are shaking.” he said, smugly. 

Your hands were shaking. You were a trained medical professional and your hands were shaking. Santiago made you feel nervous. He is a very intimidating man. This whole operation made you feel nervous. You just wanted it to be over as soon as it started. 

“Pin,” you held out your hand and Santiago dropped the pin into it. 

You quickly pin the edge and step back to admire your handy work, and catch his eyes. He had the most beautiful baby doe eyes, framed with long eyelashes that could make any girl jealous. You stared a little too long until Santiago clears his throat.

“Done staring, chica?” He says, amusement lacing his voice. 

“Wasn’t staring.” You mumbled, grabbing your saree’s pallu and draping it over your head, tucking the ends into your blouse. Turning you look at the mirror behind you and mark the parting of your hair with a little bit of red kumkum, adjusting your pottu. 

“Do I look like I can pass as someone’s wife?” You say, turning back to Santiago. 

“Yea, you look great.” He answered.

“That's not what I asked, but thanks.” You both walk to the market center, you gripping Santiago’s firm bicep and stirring him around. You strike up a conversation with one of the vegetable sellers.

“I’ve never seen you here before, ma.” The man says in Tamil.

“Yea, uncle, my husband and I moved here a few weeks ago, didn’t have the energy to come out. He’s deaf and mute and our child went missing a few months ago.” you answer, staring into space as your eyes teared up. 

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, ma. Things like that have been happening here too, you know?” He says as you pick a few vegetables. 

“What do you mean?” You sniff.

“We think it's the gang of people at the south end of the village,” he leans closer and whispers. “Children have been going missing and no one is here to defend them.” 

You allowed a tear to drip down your face and you turned to Santiago and signed to him, that you have information. Paying for your vegetables, you thanked the old man and walked along the path. 

“Vegetable soup again?” Santiago whispered. 

“Seriously, we are undercover and that's what you’re worried about?” You hiss back. 

“I’m a hungry man, chica.” he whispers back after a while. You could hear an exaggerated pout in his voice.

“Make do with what you have,” you say, as you stir him to the meat store.

“See, I knew you were nice.” He whispered, his eyes sparkling.

You rolled your eyes and bought some mutton to cook something for the man. After all, he was the one helping you and so far, everything has been going pretty good. 

“Do you find me intimidating, cariño?” Santiago suddenly asks as he chopped the vegetables using his knife while you cooked the rice and mutton into something edible. You look up, not expecting his question, the both of you usually cook and eat silently. He had an eyebrow cocked up and a ghost of a smirk on his face. 

“Obviously.” You say, looking back at the mutton dish. 

“How so?” he persisted.

“Because you’re so, well, you? You just have that infuriatingly calm look etched on your face that doesn’t give me any information to work with. You’re obviously a military man who’s very particular about following the rules and I’ve been known to bend the rules sometimes and I’m scared that I would slip up and upset you.” You blurt out. 

Silence.

“I’ll try to be less intimidating. You’re right, I am very particular about protocol but you’ve followed everything down to a T so far and all the information that you have gotten has been matching perfectly with the intel that we already have.” He says, smiling.

You smile back, absorbing Santiago’s smile. It was genuine and it was a beautiful smile. It contorted his face in a different, more healing way and it was making him seem younger than he is. 

Over dinner, he told you about his boys and how they served together. He also told you all the weird things they would do, which elicited a laugh from you that echoed around the small hut. 

You tell him about your life before this and how different everything was, until the both of you had sleep lulling in your eyes. You don’t remember the last thing you said before closing your eyes, but you did know that you felt significantly more comfortable with Santiago around. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You woke up abruptly to Santiago thrashing violently in his sleep. You’re familiar with the effects of PTSD on a person, you’ve seen it many times before, but this just hurts to watch. 

You grabbed his shoulders and lightly held him until he stopped shaking. His breathing softens and he opens his eyes, looking up at you and then jumping away from your grasp. 

“It's ok, it was just a dream. You’re here.” you say, grabbing a hold of his hand. He reciprocated the touch by squeezing your hand. 

“Sorry I woke you, cariño.” He says softly. 

“It's alright, you wanna talk about it?” you say, just out of courtesy, not really expecting him to say much about it. 

“My team and I came out of a very tough mission recently and I feel like I am the one to be blamed for all the mistakes that we made.” he whispers. “There were a lot of people’s lives on the line and we lost all of them because of one small error.”

You look up, shocked, not expecting a full revelation from Santiago. You mask your shock and scooch closer to him and put a hand on his back, rubbing circles.

“Hey, what happened, happened, alright? Past tense. Stay here, with me in the present.” you say soothingly. You knew nothing could change what had happened and Santiago would always have to carry that pain with him, but you tried anyway. 

He nodded without a word and you both just sat in the dark for a while just listening to each other's breathing and the crickets outside.

“Go back to sleep, we have a long day tomorrow.” You whisper into Santiago’s ear. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You let the cool water of the river envelope you with its freshness. You were used to bathing in cold water so early in the morning after living a year in the village. It helps with waking you up and you feel refreshed throughout the day. 

Despite telling Santiago to sleep, you stayed awake all night staring at his sleeping face. Even though you find it hard to admit it, you were definitely harboring a small crush on Santiago Garcia. A part of you wanted to wake up every morning with him by your side. He is a very handsome man and has pretty good intentions as far as you could tell. You spent all night memorizing every single detail that was etched into his face, wondering whether each one of those lines has its own story. 

Your thoughts were cut off by a sound close to your right and you grabbed the knife that you had strapped to your thigh and held it in front of you. 

“Who’s there?” You say in Tamil and then repeating the line again in English while cautiously step forward from the river. 

“Yo, it's just me- HOLY FUCK!!!” Santiago screamed, eyes wide, frozen to the spot. 

“DUDE WHAT ARE YOU SCREAMING AT??!” You yell back at him. 

Then you look down and realize that Santiago caught a full view of your very topless body. You facepalm, grabbing your towel and wrapping it around you.  

“Sorry, sorry, gods Santiago, you of all people should know not to sneak up on me.” You chastise him, folding your arms across your chest. 

“Pretty amazing way to start my morning though.” He says, after regaining what's left of his brain cells.

Your mouth twisted into a scowl. 

“I guess we have to get even now.” You say, smugly, trying to hide your ulterior motive of wanting to see Santiago Garcia shirtless. 

“Easy, your wish is my command, princesa.” He says, whipping his shirt off with one swift motion. 

God damn.

Yep, exactly what you expected, sculpted by Michelangelo for the gods, even by the gods or greater than the gods. You've had your fair share of men in medical school, but nothing comes close to this archangel. 

“Like what you see?” He tilts his head to catch your expression but you keep your emotions steady, not allowing them to leak onto your face. 

You shrug and avoid his eyes, swooping down to grab your clothes that you wanted to wash. He pulls off his trousers and walks into the lake. 

Tightening the hold of your towel, you begin to wash your saree and underclothes, hanging them to dry on a rock nearby as you watch Santiago do laps around the river, his muscles flexing. You snap yourself out of it and walk back to the small hut to change. 

When you got out, Santiago had a towel wrapped around his waist, a little too low slung for your sanity. He was adjusting a mirror on the tree to shave his face. 

Suddenly, you hear something to your far left and you feel like you were being watched. Your peripheral vision caught sight of the trees moving and you moved closer to Santiago. 

“Santi, give me the razor, and don’t talk.” you whisper. You give him a smile and sign that there are people watching. He nodded, handing you the razor as you closed the gap. 

“There is someone in the trees to our left.” You whisper as you lather the soap onto his face, caressing his jaw. He places a hand on your exposed midriff and turns the both of you around so that he is facing the trees while you start calmly shaving his face, fingers moving to taut the skin, cleaning the razor every so often trying hard not to focus on Santiago’s fingers on your skin. 

You start to sing softly in Tamil, to act nonchalant, and watch as Santiago’s eyes scan the trees rapidly over your head. 

“I count two to the right.” He whispers back, tilting his head up to allow you better access. You place a finger to his lips to shush him and after a while you turn his head, starting on the other side.

Are they still watching? You sign. 

Santiago nods, barely. 

You finish shaving his face and wipe the access soap off with your fingers, leaving a small kiss on his nose which took him by surprise but he didn’t react, knowing that they were undercover. He pulled you in for a hug and murmured in your hair “Whatever happens, just trust me”. He kisses your forehead and pulls away, giving you a small smile, grabbing onto your hand, leading you into the hut.

Once inside, Santiago rushed around to get dressed and you frantically packed all the stuff you had into the one bag that you brought, along with Santiago’s stuff and stuffed it under a pile of hay. Santiago grabbed the satellite phone and called Frankie. You watch as he paces around speaking in frantic Spanish giving orders to his team mate.

 For days now he’s been in contact with Frankie, giving him the information that they have been collecting. Just before he could put the phone down, a knock sounded at the door. You tossed Santiago a dupatta and he quickly covered his face as you crossed the floor towards the door. 

“Who’s there?” You say in Tamil as you open the door, revealing three men. 

“Hello, kanna, we would like to ask you and your husband a few questions.” One of the men answered, smiling. 

They all looked like village folk but you’ve never seen their faces before. You turned and signed to Santiago and he nodded his head. Stepping back, you grab onto Santiago’s arm and the both of you sit cross legged in front of the men. 

You answered their questions with an unwavering face after telling them that your husband was deaf and dumb. You also tell them the same sob story that you had been telling the village people. 

One of the men leaned forward and grabbed your thali, harshly pulling you with it as they observed it. You feel Santiago flinch beside you as you beg them to not hurt you. They push you down by your shoulders making you gasp. 

“We’re going to ask you again. Who are you and who is he?” One of the men snarled into your face as you tried to recoil away. 

“Please, please don’t hurt me and my husband. Don’t hurt him, he doesn’t know what's going on.” You pleaded and wailed, trying to get away from the question. 

“Hey guys, look here, he's not Indian, is he?”At the corner of your eye, another one of the men had ripped your dupatta off Santiago’s face and your heart stops. 

“I think we need to take these two to our boss.” You noticed that Santiago wasn’t doing anything to defend himself as they pushed him towards you. 

“Don’t say anything, let them capture us.” Santiago whispers into your ear. 

He was offering you and him up as bait. You looked into his eyes and went with it. Went with the trust that you had built up with him over the two and a half weeks. 

You nod as the men bound your hands and blindfold you. You let yourself be dragged up by them and then they lead you out of the hut into the forest. Your bare feet hurt against the harsh forest floor but you didn’t say a single word. 

After what felt like hours you hear yourself approaching different voices, not of the men who kidnapped you and Santiago. You were pushed into your knees and you heard Santiago groan beside you, slight relief spreading through you when you heard his voice. 

Your blindfold was ripped off and you blinked, adjusting to the light. You first turned to Santiago who was kneeling uncomfortably beside you, his beautiful face caked with sweat, curls scruffy. Then you turned to the person who was standing in front of you, trying to decipher his features. 

“What do we have here? An American and a village woman. What an unlikely pairing.” He says in English. “Let me get straight to the point. Tell us who you are and we will decide our next course of action.” 

Santiago stayed silent, staring up at the man, gaze unflattering. 

“Military? CIA? Police? RAW?” The man stepped closer to you, lifting your chin up to face him. He was a big bald man with a giant mustache.

You and Santiago stay silent. 

“Looks like we have to bring out the big guns.” The man says, gesturing to his henchmen.

“You don’t have to worry, chellam, I don’t hit women.” He says to you, squeezing your cheek, your eyes widening with fear. 

Then the torture started. They started to hit Santiago with such brutality that you couldn’t help but scream. It went on for so long and you screamed at them to stop until your throat was sore. 

Santiago was bloody and battered and yet, he still didn’t say a single word. After a while the henchmen gave up, throwing the both of you into a closed cell. 

Santiago’s POV

The room around him spun uncontrollably and pain soared through him in horrible waves. He felt like he was reaching a light, trying to grasp it. No. It wasn’t a light, it was a sound. He tried grasping onto it, but it kept slipping away. Then he felt it, a soft nudge beside him and he grasped onto the sound, letting it envelop him.

It was her voice. She was pleading with him to stay with her, stay in the present, like she did yesterday when he awoke from the horrible nightmare. She was saying his name, and he clung onto that, the way it rolled off her tongue melodiously and reached his ears, canceling out all the ringing that he had been listening to for the past few minutes, or hours. 

He slowly opened his eyes, and focused on her form. She looked relatively unhurt but he could vaguely see tears streaming down her beautiful face. He tried to tell her that he was ok, but all he could do was taste iron in his mouth. He spat out the blood and shook his head, breathing in and out to steady the spinning. 

“Santiago, I need you to listen to me,” Y/N says, kicking her legs over his own outstretched ones. “I need you to pull my saree over my thigh and grab the knife that’s strapped to it.”

He nodded, still trying to process.

“Santi, come on, look at me, pull.” She whispers frantically, shaking her legs. 

His head snapped up at her again and he fumbled with her saree, trying to pull it up to gain access to the knife. Finally after several tries, he pushed the fabric over where the knife was and pulled it, holding it in front of him, unsure of what to do next. 

“Come on, free yourself.” She instructed and he turned the knife towards his bounded hands, autopilot taking over as he sawed himself loose. 

He leaned back, trying to blink away the pain as he focused on freeing her, so as to not cut her. 

The second he frees her, he hears gunshots and yelling. He laughs, completely delirious to the pain. 

“My boys are here.” He says as he slips into unconsciousness.

Your POV

Santiago falls back as you feel your hands slip out of the restraints. You hear him mumble something incoherent as you swung our legs off his own and start slapping him to keep him awake. 

“No, no, no, stay with me, you idiot.” You hiss, feeling his pulse. It was there, but faint. 

You pull his shirt up and run your fingers over his body in the dark, checking for any cuts. You feel something warm and wet, pulling back to smell the familiar twang of iron. You pull the pallu of your saree off your shoulder and use it to stem the bleeding, pressing hard with one hand, the other still slapping Santiago’s face. 

“Pope! Y/N! Where are you guys?” A familiar voice called out. 

“Frankie! Frankie, in here, in the cells, Santi’s bleeding out, please, I need a med pack, stat!” You yell as loud as your sore throat could handle. 

Frankie appears in front of you with full tactical gear and shoots the lock of the cell. In seconds, he got a flashlight and the med pack out. You examined the wound under the dim stream of light and it was still beading with blood. 

You instruct Frankie to douse the wound with disinfectant and your hands as you thread a needle. As fast as you possibly could, you sewed the wound shut.

You sigh and turn to Frankie, shaking your head. 

“I know, he’s a little stupid, but you’ll get use to it.” He smiles down at his unconscious friend. “We got the kids and the others are currently doing a headcount.”

“How did you guys find us?” You say, holding onto Santiago’s hand.

“He has a tracker on him and after that frantic phone call, we traced you guys here. Let me guess, he refused to speak?” He says, squinting at where your hand was.

“Yep, didn’t say a single word, the stubborn man. Your timing is impeccable. I couldn’t imagine what would have happened if you didn’t turn up in time.” You say, your eyes welling up with fresh tears again.

“Hey, it's alright, let's get this man to the hospital, okay?” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Hey.” You hear a voice and you sit up immediately, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Hey, yourself. Do you know how stupid that was?” You glare at the man on the bed in front of you. 

“Mmm, kinda, but we’re alive right?” He says, giving you a smile.

You roll your eyes, biting your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling back at him. His eyes went slightly glassy as if he was thinking about something.

“What are you thinking about?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking him, snapping him out of his daze.

“Your tits.” He replied without hesitation.

“¿Qué? You know what, nevermind, I don’t even want to know.” Frankie says, making Santiago snap his head to his left where Frankie was lounging on a chair.

You massage your temples, embarrassment creeping up your face. 

“Oh, hi Catfish, didn’t see you there.” Santi grins.

“Well, good morning to you too, cabrón.” he says getting up and giving Santiago a kiss on his forehead, making him cringe into the pillows and you giggle at the sight.

Frankie left the room, closing the door behind him, not before uttering “No monkey business, you two.”

“Asshole,” Santiago chuckles, before turning back to you.

“You’ve got a lot of admirers who visited you.” you say, scanning his face.

You were so glad to be present during the reunion of the children and their parents. All of the children were relatively unharmed but the bruises on their wrist signified the burden of the trauma that they had to carry for the rest of their lives.

Santiago shifts and pats the bed. You hesitate, but eventually climb in, snuggling lightly into his side.

“I have to admit, you are growing on me, Pope.” You mutter as his good arm pulls you closer. 

“Mmm, I know.” He whispers, kissing your forehead.

“If you pull a stunt like that again, I swear, I will kill you myself.” You say in Tamil.

“I think we’re getting lost in translation, cariño.” He mumbles into your hair, slipping back into sleep. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Translation:

Jimmikis: A style of earring worn by women of the Indian subcontinent.

Ma: Indians usually call all women “ma”, can be a term of endearment but also is used casually.

Thaali: A mangala sutra, or thaali, is a necklace that the groom ties around the bride's neck in the Indian subcontinent. The necklace serves as a visual marker of status as a married Hindu woman. Mangala sutra's origin dates back to the 6th Century AD as a single yellow thread was tied around the bride for protection from other men and evil spirits. The term mangala sutra in Sanskrit means holy thread.

Dupatta: The dupattā is a shawl traditionally worn by women in Indian subcontinent to cover the head and shoulders 

Chica: Girl

Saree: A sari or saree is a women's garment from the Indian subcontinent,that consists of an un-stitched stretch of woven fabric arranged over the body as a robe, with one end tied to the waist, while the other end rests over one shoulder as a stole, baring a part of the midriff.

Pallu: The loose end of a sari, worn over one shoulder or the head

Kumkum: AKA sindoor. Kumkum is a powder used for social and religious markings in India. It is either made from turmeric or saffron. The turmeric is dried and powdered with a bit of slaked lime, which turns the rich yellow powder into a red color. Kumkum is most often applied by Indians to the forehead

Pottu: A bindi or pottu is a coloured dot or, in modern times, a sticker worn on the center of the forehead, originally by Hindus, Sikhs, Buddhists and Jains from the Indian subcontinent.

Cariño: Sweetie

Princesa: Princess

Kanna: Sweetie

Chellam: Darling

¿Qué?: What?

Cabrón: Dumbass

😍🥵🫠😍 literally how I felt reading this

Right On Cue- Frankie Morales x f!reader

Main Masterlist | Frankie Morales Masterlist

Pairing: Bartender!frankie Morales x Waitress!f!reader

Summary: The quiet bartender lends you a hand after you've closed up for the night.

Rating: E for EXPLICIT MDNI 18+

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied but otherwise undescribed. Oral sex f receiving, protected PIV, that's pretty much it. this is just PWP

Author's Notes: shoutout to my love @pedgito for beta reading for me!

“Hey! Sweetheart! Can we get another round?” 

You roll your eyes at the pet name. As much as you hate it, the dickheads who use them usually tip the best. Unfortunately, they’re also the most likely to try to cop a feel. Luckily, there’s no tolerance for that here. The bartender, Frankie, never hesitates to kick out an asshole who puts his hands where they don’t belong. Honestly, it’s kind of surprising how sharp an eye he has for it. It’s like he has eyes in the back of his head. He always makes sure there’s a gratuity added to their tab before he kicks their asses to the curb. 

You don’t know much about him. He’s worked here longer than anyone but he doesn’t socialize much. He’s probably the only bartender you ever met that didn’t drink. He’s all broad shoulders and brooding. A man of few words but never an unkind one. All the girls have a crush on him, you’re no exception. As far as you know, he’s never taken any of them up on their offers. The skin around his eyes crinkles when he smiles. On the rare occasion that you can  get a laugh out of him, the deep boom goes straight to your bones. 

“Hey Frankie. Need another round for the assholes at table three.” 

He turns to face you and nods his head in their direction. “They giving you any trouble?” 

“No. Not like that. Just drunk and annoying.” you assure him. 

He pops the top off the beers and places them on your tray. “You’ll let me know if they start bothering you?” 

“I promise.” 

You put a little extra swish into your hips as you walk away. Just in case he’s looking. 

Two hours, two spilled drinks and about ten thousand steps later, you finally hear the words you look forward to every night. “Last call!” Frankie shouts from behind the bar. All of your tables attempt to get your attention, desperate for their last drink of the night. You make it a point to hit the table with the assholes last, slamming their beers on the table harder than you normally would. By this point you are fed up with their shit. Drunk ass dude bros are not your favorite people in the world, and this is your sixth day straight of work. 

“Thanks doll.” one drawls while slipping a bill into the waistband of your shorts. You swat his hand away, but your snarky reply gets caught in your throat as you hear a voice from directly behind you.

“Keep your fucking hands to yourself.” Frankie says, reaching past your shoulder and grabbing the man by his collar. He drags him up from the stool and the man has a hard time finding his footing. 

“I was just thanking her for a job well done.” he smirks, not even realizing how badly he’s fucked up. Frankie smiles and you see a darkness flash through his eyes. Maybe he enjoys this part of the job a little too much , you think. 

Later, once the doors have been locked for the evening, you rush to the break room, desperate to kick off the high heels that are required as part of your uniform. You pull your sandals out of your backpack and sit on the bench.you kick the heels off and bring one foot up onto the opposite knee. Just as you dig your thumb into the arch of your foot, Frankie comes in. Your eyes connect with his just as you groan “Oh, fuck.” He raises his eyebrows and the corner of his mouth turns up slightly.

“That good, huh?” he asks. 

“Oh shut up! You try wearing those things for ten hours.” you tell him. You slide your feet into your sandals and make your way back out to the floor. This place isn’t gonna clean itself. It’s your turn to mop the floors so you have to wait for everyone else to finish before you can leave. Luisa comes by to say goodnight on her way out. She looks over to where Frankie stands behind the bar, drying glasses. She bumps your shoulder with hers. 

“Hope you and your boyfriend have a good night!” she sings with a wink. Being married, Luisa is probably the only woman in the building not interested in Frankie. She’s convinced herself, and tried to convince you, that he’s secretly in love with you. She loves teasing you about it, because she knows that you’ll never make a move on your own.

“Shut up!” you hiss at her through clenched teeth. You look over your shoulder, checking that he didn’t hear. His back is to you and he seems busy with his own work. His body language gives no indication that he has overhead. “Will you get out of here?” you say, swatting her behind with your bar towel. She laughs all the way out the door and you roll your eyes. 

Frankie stocks the bar while you mop, singing along to the country music pouring out of the bar speakers. Once you’ve finished, you begin to roll the mop bucket back towards the back. A wheel snags on the corner of the pool table leg, tipping the bucket and sending disgusting mop water everywhere. 

“Fuck!” you shout as the brown water splashes over your sandals. Just as tears begin to form in your eyes, Frankie comes running from behind the bar with a bag of bar towels in his hand. 

“Here.” he shoves a couple of towels into your hands and drops to his knees. You join him on the floor and begin mopping up the water with the towels. You sniffle, trying to hold your tears back. “Hey, it's okay.” He assures you, placing his hand gently on your shoulder. You want to lean into his touch but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared. 

You and Frankie work together to get all the water cleaned up. One towel after another, until almost the whole bag is gone. You deposit the soaking towels into the now empty mop bucket. “Thanks for helping.” you tell Frankie. He offers you enough of a smile that you can see the hint of a dimple in his cheek. 

“Anytime. Now let’s get outta here.” he rolls the mop to the back room and you head to the break room. You wash your hands and use a wet paper towel to scrub the gunk that was on the floor from your knees. You grab your backpack and take a last look in the mirror before heading out. You straighten your clothes and head back out to the floor. You set your stuff down on the pool table and wait for Frankie to emerge. 

“Let me just grab my stuff,” he says. He’s removed his flannel overshirt and is using it to dry his hands. His gray t-shirt is stretched taut across his chest and biceps. You can’t help but be drawn to the way his muscles move as he dries his hands. He tosses the shirt over his shoulder and reaches below the bar for his wallet and keys. He turns the music off and does one last check to make sure everything is shut down for the night. “Ready?” he asks. 

You nod and reach out your hand. You grab his bicep softly and when his eyes lock on yours, you feel something shift between you. “Thanks again for helping me out. Sorry you had to stay even later.” He catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, stroking it gently. 

“Like I said,” he begins, moving his face even closer to yours. So close, in fact, you can feel his breath on your skin when he continues, “anytime.” 

“I appreciate that.” you reply, almost in a whisper. You close the distance between your faces even more. Just as you open your mouth to say something else, Frankie’s bottom lip brushes your top one. You suck in a breath and he uses the opportunity to catch your bottom lip in between his own. His hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You moan when he slides his tongue along yours and he swallows it up, drinking it down. 

You savor the smell of him, sweat and the fresh scent of his soap or deodorant. His other hand comes to rest at the small of your back and he uses it to bring you closer still. His chest presses up against yours, your hands circle his neck. You can feel the stiffness in his jeans against your thigh. 

You knock his hat to the ground and change the angle of your head, allowing him to kiss you even deeper. He runs his hands down the length of your torso, squeezing on the way down, like he wants to feel every inch of you. You’ll be damned if you don’t want the same. He grips the meat of your ass with his large hands and now it's his turn to moan. He picks you up and sets you on the edge of the pool table. His lips never leave yours. You’re surprised to find that he’s just as ravenous for you as you have been for him. Maybe Luisa was right. 

You slip your hands under his shirt and feel the warm skin of his firm chest. You lightly scrape your nails down his chest and caress the soft swell of his stomach. You run your finger over the trail of hair that leads down and disappears below the top of his jeans. 

“ Fuck, baby.” he whimpers against your lips. You grab the hem of his shirt and begin tugging it upwards. Once the shirt has been dropped to the still drying floor a fire lights in his eyes. “Is this okay?” he asks, grabbing the bottom of your shirt. 

“Yes, please. I’ve been wanting this for so long.” 

He rips your shirt off you and unhooks your bra with nimble fingers. He drops them both onto the pool table and steps back a little. His eyes rake over your exposed breasts and his tongue runs across his lips, wetting them. You shiver under his gaze and he steps closer, pressing himself right back up against you. He rests his hands below your breasts and thumbs your nipples. 

“You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted you like this, baby.” he tells you before devouring your mouth with his own once more. You palm his hardening length through his jeans and feel it twitch under your touch. “ Fuck.” he groans. 

You unbuckle his belt, unbutton his jeans and shove your hand down his boxer briefs. Past the coarse hair, you take his cock into your hand and his hips buck against you. 

“Please, Frankie.” you moan. The feel of his thick cock has you growing wetter by the second. 

“Please what, baby?” 

“I need more.” you say, desperate to feel him on you, in you. 

“Stand up.” 

You follow his directions and when you rise he places his hands on your shoulders and spins you around. He grabs both wrists and places your hands on the soft green felt of the pool table, far out in front of you. “Keep them there.” he orders. You wouldn’t dare move them. His fingers curl around the elastic of your biker shorts and underwear and he pulls them down your legs. He lifts your feet one at a time, sliding them out of your clothes before placing them back in your sandals. He deposits them on the table with the rest of your clothes. 

You stand there, knees slightly bent, ass out on display, and wait for what's next. You hear some shuffling and the clinking of Frankie’s belt as he sheds the remainder of his own clothes. He comes up behind you and you can feel his hard cock pressed up against your ass. His hand snakes around to your front and he runs his fingers through your folds. 

“Is this all for me?” he asks when he finds you already soaked for him. 

“Yes, Frankie. It’s all for you.” 

He taps the outside of your thigh with two fingers. “Lift this for me.” 

You lift your leg and he places your knee on the edge of the pool table. He drops to his knees below you and takes in the sight of you. “Fucking perfect.” he almost whipsers. You aren’t sure whether he’s talking to you or himself but it doesn’t matter because he licks a broad stripe from your dripping entrance up to your clit. Your knees almost buckle under the sensation but he’s there to keep you steady. 

“It’s a little early for your knees to be giving out already.” he teases. 

“Do you ever shut up?” you ask breathlessly. 

He responds with another long, slow lick. And then another. He doesn’t stop until he’s brought you to orgasm with nothing but his mouth and fingers. When he rises from his knees he directs you to keep your knee on the table. He slides his latex covered cock over your pussy before lining himself up. 

“You ready for me?” he asks and you can hear the fucking smirk on his face.

“I’m ready. Please. Fuck me.” 

He growls in response and breaches your entrance. The stretch of him feels divine. His cock parts your walls, making a home for itself inside of you. He goes slowly. He knows he’s a lot to take. He kisses your shoulder and your neck, whispering praise in your ear until he’s nestled firmly inside you. 

He places one hand on your hip and the other on your shoulder. He pulls out of you slowly, until just the tip of him remains. He starts with long, slow strokes. The drag of his cock along your walls has you dripping all over him. You can feel the hair at his base is soaked when it brushes against your ass. He picks up his pace, hitting something inside of you that makes your legs shake. With every thrust, he’s pulling you down onto his cock with the hand on your shoulder. 

“Oh fuck, Frankie! Right there, baby!” Your cries echo off the walls of the empty bar and Frankie lets out a growl from deep in his chest. 

“You keep screaming my name like that and I won’t last much longer.” 

He brings his hand to your pussy and feels where he is splitting you open. He drags his fingers up to your clit and circles it. The dual stimulation sends you hurtling towards the edge of your next orgasm. Your cunt begins to flutter around Frankie’s cock and he increases the speed of his fingers. 

“Oh, God! Oh fuck! I’m fucking coming!” you shout and are overcome with the intensity of your orgasm. Frankie’s breath comes hard and fast out of his nose but his thrusts don’t falter and his fingers don’t stop. 

“Come on, baby, I want one more. Just gimme one more." His words are strained and said through gritted teeth. You are straddling the line between pleasure and overstimulation when another orgasm slams right into the tail end of the first one. Your legs finally give out and Frankie holds you up, still pounding into you. 

Your shouts fill the room and Frankie’s thrusts begin to slow in speed, but they somehow reach even deeper than before. One, two, three sharp snaps of his hips and he spills himself inside the condom. You both collapse, spent, onto the surface of the pool table and attempt to catch your breath. After a few moments, Frankie’s weight on your back is pressing the edge of the table into your abdomen. 

“Frankie?” 

“Yeah, baby?” 

“I can’t fucking breathe.”

“Oh shit! Sorry!” he lifts his weight off of you and grips the base of his softening cock, holding tightly to the condom and pulls out of you with a hiss. He scoops his clothes from the floor with one hand and nods towards the bathroom. “I'm gonna go clean up. Wait for me?” 

You nod and gather your own clothes from the pool table.you toss your bra into your backpack and pull the rest of your clothes on. Frankie exits the bathroom and grabs his hat from the floor. He puts it on and gives you a quick kiss. He pats his pockets for his belongings then slides an arm around your shoulders.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

“Do you wanna go get some breakfast with me? I’m starving and I could go for some pancakes right now.” 

He smiles and presses a kiss to your temple. “How ‘bout I make you some pancakes?” 

“Really?”

“They’re kind of my specialty. My kids love them.” 

You raise an eyebrow. He’s never talked about his personal life before. “You have kids?

“Yup. Two of ‘em. Come on. I’ll tell you all about them while I cook.” 

“I’d love that.” 

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Between Us

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Summary: You and Frankie are dating but keeping it a secret from your daughters.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI! Go on, get! Kissing, fluff, secret relationship, time skipping, smut, oral(f and m receiving), unprotected PinV(don’t do this, make smart choices), cream pie, anything I left out let me know!

A/N: HAPPY FRANKIE FRIDAY!!! This is part 2 of Paint With Me but can be read as a stand alone! Thank you @noxturnalpascal and @beefrobeefcal for giving this a look over for me ❤️ Thank you @jay-zzle for giving this a read as well and the moodboard 😍

Masterlist||AO3 Link||Parents to Lovers

Divider by @saradika-graphics

“Fuck, right there,” you groan into Frankie’s pillow, gripping the wrist that’s holding him above you. His other arm wrapped around your shoulder, grabbing your breast while he pulls you back against his cock again, your ass meeting his hips in a steady rhythm.

“Oh fuck,” he quietly grunts into the side of your neck, feeling your walls sucking him in, “Feel so fucking good baby.”

It’s been four months since you and Frankie had that conversation in the painting class you attended with your daughters. Four months of sneaking around so that the girls don’t catch on to their parents dating each other. In front of the girls, you and Frankie are just good friends but behind closed doors, it’s a completely different story.

“Frankie,” you whimper, trying to stifle your moans, you can feel the warmth simmering in your lower belly, so close to tipping over the edge, “I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah, baby?” Frankie whispers into your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point, causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin, open-mouthed kisses placed along your shoulders as he feels your walls beginning to flutter around him. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.”

Your grip around his wrist tightens as his hand grabs your jaw to tilt your head to the side. He captures your mouth in a kiss, your tongues massaging each other. His thrusts start to get quicker and you can tell he’s getting close too.

“Fuck,” Frankie whimpers into the crook of your neck, “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

“Daddy?” You hear a wobbly voice say on the other side of the door and you both freeze. “Daddy, I had a nightmare.”

“Shit,” Frankie huffs into your neck, “Okay, be right there baby!” He hollers at the door.

You both hear the door handle turning and the door creaking open.

“Missy!” Frankie panics, “Don’t. I’ll be right there. Just give me a second.”

“Why?” Missy asks, trying to peek through the crack in the door. Frankie pulls the covers up onto his shoulders higher, blocking the door's view of you under him.

“I’m naked, Missy. That’s why!”

“Ew!” Missy shouts, running back to her room.

“Dad duty,” Frankie grumbles, pulling out and searching for his boxers, “I’ll be right back.”

—

“Nora!” You shout from the front door, trying to get your shoes on, “Come on! We’re gonna be late!”

“I need socks!” She hollers.

“There’s a clean basket of clothes in the laundry room,” you shout back.

“Mom,” Nora says, approaching the living room, “Why is there boy underwear in the laundry?” She asks, holding up a pair of Frankie’s boxers from the last time he stayed the night. Shit.

“Uhmm…” you start, trying to think of a quick excuse, “My friend had an accident and asked for my help.”

“What kind of accident?” Nora asked, scrunching up her nose.

“Just an accident, Nora,” you huff, getting your jacket on, “Now get your shoes and jacket on so we can go!”

Nora dropped the subject, thankfully, putting her shoes on and both of you were out the door. On the drive to Paint with Me you kept looking in the rearview mirror, you could see the wheels turning in your daughter's head about what had happened back at the house but still, she kept quiet.

“Hey!” Frankie greeted you with a warm smile, as you walked in the door to Miss Janice’s weekly art class. “Missy’s at our usual table,” Frankie said to Nora, pointing in Missy’s direction.

“Here!” Nora said, wrestling off her jacket, chucking it at you, and running to the table where Missy was. The girls are beaming with smiles at each other, hugging as if they hadn’t just seen each other a day ago when you all met up at the park for them to play.

“We might have a problem,” you say low enough for only Frankie to hear, hanging Nora’s jacket up on a hook and sliding your own off. He cocked his head to the side with a confused look, “Nora found your boxers in our laundry,” you whisper, hanging your jacket with hers.

“Oh,” Frankie says, eyebrows shooting up his forehead. “Uhm, how- how did that go?”

“Told her that my friend had an accident and he asked me for help.”

“Accident, huh?” Frankie grinned quietly adding, “We’ve been together for six months now, you know I’m potty trained.”

You both laugh, as you make your way to the table to sit with Nora and Missy. The girls are whispering to each other as you both sit down.

“What are you two gossiping about, huh?” Frankie asks, giving Missy’s side a small squeeze. Missy lets out a giggle.

“We think she has a boyfriend!” Nora says, pointing at you.

“What? Me?!” You ask, pointing to yourself.

“Yeah,” Nora says, “Why else would you have boy underwear in the laundry?”

“Is he cute? Is he nice? Wait, Is he rich?” Missy asks quickly. You can’t help but laugh shaking your head.

“Missy,” Frankie laughs, “Leave her alone.”

“What?” Missy asks, shrugging her shoulders, “It’s just a couple of questions.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you say, “No boyfriend for me.”

Frankie places his hand over his mouth covering that knowing smirk.

–

“I can’t wait til they get here!” Nora says, vibrating with excitement staring out the front window.

Frankie and Missy should be arriving any minute with the pizzas. Nora wanted to have a sleepover, so you figured why not have Missy over and invite Frankie to join for pizza and some movies for a little bit. He offered to pick the pizzas up on his way over.

“They’re here!” Nora shrieks, running to the front door and swinging it open causing it to smack against the wall.

“Damn it, Nora,” you grumble, watching her run to Frankie’s truck and opening the door for Missy to jump out. The girls are excitedly jabbering in the driveway while Frankie is trying to hold onto the pizzas and ushering them inside.

“Mom said we can camp in the living room tonight and fall asleep watching movies!” Nora says excitedly, “I bet you I’ll stay awake longer than you!”

“Whatever,” Missy says, “I’ll be the one up the longest!”

You and Frankie share a look both knowing that neither one will be up past 10. Frankie goes to the kitchen and sets the pizzas on the counter.

“Get the good stuff?” You hum, rubbing your hand across his lower back.

“Pepperoni and black olives?” He asks, opening the box and moving to show you, “Why yes, yes I did.”

“Gross!” The girls say in unison.

“No worries,” Frankie said, “I got a plain pepperoni and plain cheese for you two to destroy!”

“Yay!” They both yelled from the living room. You got plates down from the cupboard, getting slices of pizza set on each one.

“You guys get a movie picked out?” You ask, grabbing the plates meant for you and Frankie, while he holds the two for the girls.

“Uhmm…” Nora hesitates, looking at you while standing in the middle of the living room arranging blankets. “We got distracted by making our floor mattress.”

“Well,” Frankie says, observing the mess of blankets while setting the plates on the coffee table, “I’ll work on this and you guys pick out a movie.”

Frankie made their pallets on the floor, while the girls rummaged the shelf picking out movies to watch. Each picked out 5, playing rock paper scissors to see who got the first pick.

“Yes!” Nora shouted, raising her arms in victory, “Monsters vs. Aliens first!” 

You pop the DVD in while the girls get comfy on the makeshift beds Frankie made for them, both of them diving into their pizza slices. You plop on the other end of the couch, away from Frankie. He gives you a puzzled look as you bite into your pizza and nod your head towards the girls.

“Ahh,” he sighs out, “Gotcha.”

As the night goes on, you notice both girls yawning more frequently and Frankie inching across the couch to get closer to you. By the end of the third movie, both girls are passed out and Frankie’s arm is behind you on the back of the couch.

“Looks like they’re both asleep,” Frankie whispers in your ear. You turn to look at him with a small smile.

“Appears so,” you say, slowly standing up and quietly making your way to their pallet on the floor. You look at both girls, hearing their soft snores as you pull their blankets up to their shoulders.

Frankie stands, smiling, watching you care for his daughter. It’s been nine months of this sneaking around, meeting up when Nora’s at her dad’s and he can find a sitter, or you coming over while Missy’s asleep, making random play dates just so you have an excuse to see each other. I love yous have been shared, talks about one day all living under one roof together have happened, Frankie’s getting tired of keeping it a secret and hopes you are too. You follow him out of the living room, satisfied the girls are comfortable.

“Hey,” he whispers, grabbing your hips and pulling you against him. You can feel his half-hard member through the denim of his jeans against your thigh.

“Hey,” you whisper back, a smile gracing your lips, “Ya know, you don’t have to leave right away.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you reply, pulling away and grabbing his hand, coaxing him to your bedroom. Crossing the threshold of your room, you close the door behind you, locking it as you lightly push Frankie towards your bed, while he kicks his shoes off. The back of his legs hit against the mattress, pushing against his broad chest, he sits down, hands traveling to the nape of his neck playing with the soft strands there.

“Missed you,” you breathe against his mouth, kissing the corner of his lips, trailing your lips along the expanse of his throat. Frankie lets out a soft groan when you gently bite down, running your fingers up his scalp, giggling when you knock his hat off. His hands come to your sides, rubbing his palms against your soft skin while peeling off your shirt. He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you into a bruising kiss, licking into your mouth with fervor, arousal pooling in your panties.

“Missed you too,” he says, forehead pressed against yours. You start to push his shirt up, pulling it off the rest of the way, chucking it to the floor next to yours. Your fingers travel the expanse of his chest and he lets out a quiet hiss when you put more pressure on his nipples, fingers making their way over his soft belly to the trail of hair peeking out from his jeans. You’ve done this dance plenty of times; you remove his belt and undo his jeans like a pro, Frankie lifts his hips so you can slide his jeans and boxers off. His shaft slaps against his stomach while you sink to your knees, your head resting against his thigh, admiring his beautiful cock. You wrap your hand around him - your fingers unable to touch together - and give him an experimental tug, watching as a bead of pre-come escapes the flushed tip.

“Frankie,” you sigh, “You’re perfect.”

Frankie smirks, running his fingers through your hair. Your mouth engulfs his tip, tongue swirling around it as he lets out a moan.

“Fuck,” Frankie hisses, as you take more of his length into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, looking up at him. Those deep brown irises are blown black with lust as he watches you bob your head along his length, twisting your hand around the base of his cock in tandem. “Stop.”

Your head lifts off of him with a soft pop, he grins, motioning for you to stand, grabbing your ass, and pulling you towards him.

“Don’t wanna come down your throat baby,” he says, kissing along your collarbone, traveling to the tops of your breasts. He reaches behind you to undo your bra, letting the straps fall from your shoulders, and your bra slides onto the floor.

“Mmmm,” he hums, massaging your tits, pulling a nipple into his mouth and sucking sharply. You feel his wiry whiskers scrape along your skin and you let out a breathy whine.

“Frankie,” you whisper, your fingers running through his chocolate curls. He trails his lips down your rib cage, leaving goosebumps across your skin. He pushes your leggings and underwear down, fingers coming up to feel the arousal between your folds.

“So wet, hermosa,” Frankie purrs, grabbing your knee and bringing it against his thigh, shifting your body so you’re lying beneath him further up in bed. His cock rubbing against your folds as he sucks the skin of your neck into his mouth. “Wanna taste you, baby.”

You moan as Frankie makes his descent to your core, wide palms against your thighs pushing you open a little more for him, placing your legs on either side of his broad shoulders. He kisses and nips at your inner thighs, parting your lips to look at your glistening sex, and lets out a hum of approval before dipping down, flicking his tongue against your clit. You let out a shaky breath as he begins lapping at your folds like a man who hasn’t seen a meal in days, sucking your bundle of nerves into his mouth and swirling his tongue.

“F-fingers,” you manage to stutter out. Frankie begins tracing the tip of his finger against your entrance before slowly pushing in, massaging your inner walls, “Mm- more,” you whine and in response he hums, sinking a second digit along with the first.

“Oh god, Frankie,” you moan, raking your fingers through his hair, “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

Frankie lets out a moan as you tug on his hair, rocking your hips against his face, feeling his knuckles massaging that sweet spot. Your legs begin to shake, skin heating, walls contracting, feeling your climax approaching.

“Frankie,” you whine, dissolving into pleasure, your orgasm overtaking you.

“So fucking good,” Frankie grins, your release covering his mustache and chin. You bring his face to yours, kissing him with a carnal desire, tasting yourself on his tongue. “Messy too,” he laughs, as you wrap your legs around him.

“Fuck me,” you whine, “Frankie, please. I need you to fu-“

He pushes into you in one quick thrust, splitting you open, and you let out a loud moan. Frankie quickly covers your mouth, fearful the girls will wake up.

“Gotta be quiet, cariño,” Frankie hums with a grin etched on his face, slowly pulling out, groaning when he looks down at his cock covered in your juices. “Fuck.”

You whimper against his hand as he pushes back into your warmth, setting a languid pace. Nails digging into the muscles of his back, hearing the squelch of your pussy as he rocks into you.

“Fuck, baby,” Frankie grunts, smacking his hands against the mattress by your head, snapping his hips into you at a desperate pace. Your nails bite into his skin harder, crescent moons to be left behind as a reminder of you. “God damn it, I fucking love you.”

“I love you too,” you pant into his mouth, feeling that tingle at the bottom of your spine starting to flourish. He devours your mouth, swallowing your moans as you reach your peak once again, white-hot electricity flowing through every limb of your body. Frankie’s hips stutter as his warm release paints your walls, your name escaping his lips as he comes.

Frankie slumps against you, face in the crook of your neck attempting to catch his breath as your fingers trail along his back, tracing small patterns into his skin. He pops his head up, looking at you, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face, kissing your forehead, cheeks, chin, and lips. He moves off of you and lays at your side with a sigh, pulling you into him.

“You should probably leave,” you pout sleepily, “I don’t,” yawn, “-don’t want the girls finding you here in the morning.”

“Just a few more minutes like this,” Frankie hums, pulling you against him tighter. 

Sleep overtakes both of you before you know it.

You wake to the sounds of Nora and Missy playing in the living room. Your eyes snap open. Shit, you fell asleep. Frankie fell asleep, here. At your house, with the girls just down the hall.

“Frankie,” you hiss shoving against him, “You fell asleep here!”

Frankie wakes startled, looking around your room trying to put the pieces together in his sleep-addled brain.

“Fuck,” he groans, rubbing his eyes as you move getting dressed, “What do we do?”

“Uhh…” you say, looking around trying to think of the best possible option. Window. The fucking window. “Window.”

“Window?” Frankie asks with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Window. Climb out, pretend you just got here to pick Missy up.”

“What am I fucking sixteen?” Frankie laughs, standing up to stretch his back.

“Frankie,” you plead, “I don’t know what else to do here. This is not how they should find out.”

“Window it is,” Frankie says, getting himself dressed while you work on quietly opening the window. Frankie approaches you from behind, wrapping his arms around you.

“Even though I wasn’t supposed to stay, I’m glad we had our own slumber party,” he whispers against your temple.

“Me too,” you grin, matching the smile on his face when you turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck, planting a firm kiss against his lips. “Now shoo before we get caught.”

Frankie climbs through the window, landing softly on the ground.

“I wanna tell the girls,” Frankie says abruptly, looking up at you, hope dancing around within those Hershey orbs.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Frankie sighs out your name, “I love you and I wanna tell them. I think it’s time.”

“Okay,” you say softly, leaning your head out the window to give him one more kiss before you return to pretending he didn’t stay here the whole night, “I love you too.”

—

It’s been four weeks since Frankie snuck out of your room like a teenager trying not to get caught by your parents. You both had a long discussion about finally telling the girls about you two being together, what could change, how they’d react to the news, and every possibility you could think of. Frankie seemed confident that they would take the news just fine. Missy liked you, Nora liked him, and they were best friends. Just means they get to see each other even more, Frankie had said with a laugh.

You pulled up to the local Cherry Berry, one of the girls’ favorite places. No holds bar on toppings, Frankie told them both to go wild. You find a somewhat secluded table for this discussion, in case the worst happens. The girls come over with their massive piles of ice cream and toppings sitting next to each other like always. Frankie takes the seat beside you, digging into his ice cream as soon as he sits down. The girls begin chattering away about stuff that’s been happening at school, their teachers, wondering what the next thing they’ll paint in class is when Frankie clears his throat.

“So,” he begins, twiddling his spoon, “We wanted to talk to you guys about something.”

The girls look between the two of you, waiting for one of you to say something.

“We’ve been dating,” you explain looking at each of them, “Each other,” you add, motioning between yourself and Frankie.

“Yeah,” Frankie adds, “We just wanted to be honest with you and let you know. We don’t want to keep it a secret anymore.”

Nora and Missy look at each other and then back at you and Frankie. Nora starts to giggle and Missy soon joins her. Both of them are laughing like hyenas. You and Frankie share a look before glancing towards the girls again.

“We know,” Nora says once her giggles die down. Missy nodded her head at Nora’s words.

“What?” You and Frankie ask in unison, flabbergasted they would have caught on. You’ve both been so careful with how you are around each other.

“Yep,” Nora nods, “Remember the sleepover where Frankie came to pick Missy up and didn’t have his hat?”

You nod, processing the words your daughter is saying.

“I found his hat,” she says, holding in her laughter, “Under your bed.”

“Oh,” you say, stunned, looking towards Frankie who shrugs his shoulders.

“And I’ve seen that shirt in my dad’s room,” Missy says pointing at your chest, “And his room smells a lot better now too, kinda like vanilla, like you!” she exclaims.

You stifle your laugh, shaking your head.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Frankie mutters, “Got ourselves Starsky and Hutch over here.” 

Yes that ⬆️ That was my exact feelings for this 🫠

Giggly, hot and pass out 😮‍💨

THE HOODIE || Frankie Morales x reader

Word count: 430 words

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, m!masturbation, Frankie’s vivid imagination and slight obsession with you

A/n: This blurb was inspired by this cute poll by @pedropascalito 💕 It’s my first time writing Frankie🥹 hope you’ll like it💖

******

Frankie smells the hoodie discreetly when you give it back to him at the door of your house. You’ve been wearing it almost all night, having forgotten your jacket at home. Your date is over and you give him a kiss, chaste but so sweet and lovely that he can’t help but crave more. Yet he wishes you ‘good night’ and leaves. He knows that you’re not ready and he understands.

But Frankie’s just a man and you’re the most gorgeous person he’s ever met. On the way home at every red light he gets a whiff of you, grabbing the hoodie off the passenger seat. His lungs are full of your scent, flowery and sunny, sweet just like you.

With a trace of shame in his heart he adjusts himself. His body’s reaction to your scent on the hoodie is more and more obvious. He’s getting hard. Soon the shame gets washed over by desire, which overwhelms him, and Frankie rushes home, mad with lust.

As soon as he plops on the couch in his living room, he smells you off the hoodie again. A second later he’s clutching the piece of clothing close to his chest, while his other hand is wrapped around his stiff cock, which is already leaking and throbbing for you.

Frankie’s pumping it slowly at first, leaning down from time to time to smell you, and it’s so easy to imagine you on the couch next to him, the vision so vivid in his eyes. He sees your hand pleasuring him, sliding up and down his needy cock. He imagines you kissing him, his tongue brushing yours shyly at first and then feverishly, licking into your mouth, tasting the sweetness of the cotton candy that he bought for you at the fair. You’re perfect.

His hand is picking up the pace, and Frankie’s feeling bold— in his mind he sees you leaning down. Your lips… oh god! you pretty sweet lips. Soft, warm. Your lips are wrapped around his cock now. You’re sucking on the tip - tongue gliding around it like it’s the tastiest lollipop (his thumb is caressing the head) and the sensation paired with the vision throws him over the edge.

Frankie’s coming with a needy moan. Pearly white cum is shooting out of his slit, thick ropes landing on his big hand, his soft hairy belly, peeking out from under the tee. A few land on the hoodie.

Fuck! Not the hoodie! As soon as his balls stop twitching and his cock begins softening, Frankie hurries to the bathroom with it to clean off the cum stains. Careful not to wash you off.

He wants to save it. He wishes to fall asleep tonight enveloped in your lovely scent.

******

Thank you for reading!💖🌺

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

Ahhh! The way this made me want to SOB!

😭😭😭😭😭😭

She needs her happy ending!!!

he's got you on a pedestal, and me in his arms

Frankie Morales x bff!Reader

Word count: 3.6K

Summary: you've known Francisco "Frankie" Morales your whole lives. Not even his marriage kept you from being in his life and in his bed. Then one fateful weekend everything changes and you have to find the will to give him up.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, brief mention of underage sex (both parties are minors, 14-15 years old, and is consensual), childood friends, friends to lovers, friends with benefits, established relationship, cheating, idiots in love, reader and Frankie are the same age, mention of infertility (reader), fluff and angst, midlife crisis, camping sex, oral sex (f receiving), biting, creampie, oh and some sleepover antics of the nonsexual kind as well.

Author's Note: this is a re-upload. The original had a link to another site to read it, then I thought, why not just post here, dummy? This takes place before the events of Triple Frontier, and I'm a sucker for the whole "they knew each other all this time but only realized they're in love too late" kind of story. Also, bonus points for anyone who knows where the title of this story is from!

FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

You and Frankie stand side by side in the middle of the campsite, admiring the newly-erected tent that will serve as your shelter for the weekend. "You did that in a fifth of the time it took me." He shakes his head. "I'm both impressed and angry. And of course I was watching your ass the entire time." To emphasize this he gives your ass a little grab.

"I know," you reply smartly with a smirk. You grab a bedroll in each hand. "Did you remember to bring your Hello Kitty blanket?"

Smirking back he chuckles and takes the bedrolls from you and places them inside the tent. "Damn, I knew I forgot something." A late evening chill sends you both inside. Frankie quickly unrolls the beds and you lay on them, close together, staring up at the see-through roof, gazing at the stars. "C'mere," he motions you to join him. You scoot next to him and rest your head on his chest as he wraps his arms around you protectively. "This is nice, huh?"

"It's peaceful," you whisper. The inky blackness of the sky is only disturbed by the faraway specks of light that the stars give off, before the clouds move to finally reveal the moon.

"You ever just get tired of the constant stress of the world and just want to disappear for a little while?" Frankie sighs contentedly, leaning back with you nestled on his chest, his face illuminated by the gentle moonlight.

"All the time," you whisper back. "But only if I get to disappear with you."

He holds you closer, and when he presses a kiss to your temple you feel his lips curve into a smile. "Sometimes I just wish things could be like the good ol' days when we were kids. No worrying about, well, anything really. Just having fun and not having to care about all the other bullshit." He takes a deep breath and exhales, and you listen to the beat of his heart as you rest your head on his chest. "I think I'm only truly happy when I'm with you."

It's not the first time he's ever said this to you, this man you've shared most of your life with, who you've known since childhood and grown up to do everything with. Only now when you hear these words you're reminded of the ways your lives have forked off into different directions. Your responsibilities have changed, and when you raise your eyes to meet Frankie's you're tempted to just take him away from the woman you convinced him to marry. But there's one small catch that halts such a decision on your end.

He nudges you. "I thought you fell asleep there. You got so quiet. That's not like you."

"You're imagining things." You try to push your worrisome thoughts away.

"You know if you fall asleep first, I'm obligated to get out my Sharpie and draw a dick on your face."

You bury your face into his chest and laugh. It's one of those little traditions you carry out, ever since you were young and innocent enough to sleep over at each other's houses. "I guess I'll have to do my best to stay awake." You kiss his cheek.

Frankie pulls you in closer, sighing contentedly. "I think I really needed this.." his voice trails off and his breathing becomes deep and even until he's on the brink of falling asleep. "This is nice," he whispers, eyes closed.

This.. the yearly camping trip you take, a tradition that started that first year of his marriage, the year that separated your paths. This allows you to reconnect.

At one time there was nothing you didn't do without the other: you graduated kindergarten in the same class, learned to ride bikes, and Frankie even defended you from the school bully, earning a black eye for his efforts. You had your first kiss together at a friend's birthday party, playing Seven Minutes in Heaven. You fumbled towards each other in the dark of a closet, and once your lips met there were fireworks. It was one of those rare moments when you realize the person you're supposed to be with is already your best friend.

When you were teenagers and spending the night was no longer appropriate, you stayed down in his basement until his parents were asleep and you practiced kissing on the couch, trusting each other as you went a little further each time, until the night it happened and, unable to control yourselves, you were suddenly half-dressed, trying to keep quiet as your bodies came together. It was a blur of warm flesh, wet kisses, and a twinge of pain that was soon overshadowed by growing need. You didn't cum that first time, but Frankie definitely did, and after weeks of worrying you were relieved to find you weren't pregnant. Years later you found out that you would never be able to be a mother at all.

But that new chapter had begun, and so you spent nearly every spare moment together fucking. He'd sneak into your bedroom or you'd drive out to lover's lane and get hot and heavy in his truck. You were a couple, unofficially, always together. Even your families expected that one day you'd get married and have a family. But your paths diverged after graduation, when he joined the military and you chose to go to school across the country. You stayed in touch, called when you could, but time and distance kept you apart. You were both too reticent to talk about the future, and when you both started to see other people it became apparent that your childhood love had come to an end.

You kept in touch sporadically, typically when you were both in town visiting your families. And you'd hook up, as if time hadn't created any distance between your hearts. When you got your first apartment after college Frankie offered to help you move, and by the end of the day, despite the aches and pains after carrying boxes up two flights of stairs and arranging furniture, you still found time to christen every room, fucking like rabbits against any and every flat surface of your new place. Frankie had stamina like you wouldn't believe, but he always insisted it was only with you.

You were on-again, off-again, trying to kickstart your separate careers. But your friendship remained even when you dated other people. There were a few times when you found yourself in his bed when you were someone else's girlfriend, or vice versa. There was no malice or guilt involved. You just sought each other out because it was natural. Even when he got engaged you never lost faith that you would lose him. You liked his wife-to-be, Melissa, and even got along with her. But the night before she and Frankie were to get married, it was you he spent the night with, worried he was making the wrong choice. You'd convinced him, after he'd eaten you out from behind then fucked you hard, spread-eagle on your bed, to marry her. The next morning you stood at the altar with both of them, looking on and smiling, still feeling the drip of his cum from the night before.

What would Melissa think if she knew? Does she even have a grain of suspicion when you drive away with her husband to be unreachable for a whole weekend? This year everything is different, and maybe as you pulled away from their driveway, as she waved and blew kisses, she was gloating inside with the secret knowledge that she's the most important woman in his life now.

Frankie looks so serious in his sleep and you stifle your giggles as you draw on his face with eyeliner.

He stirs from his sleep. "Did you just draw a dick on my face?"

"No, you're dreaming," you lie, continuing to vandalize him with crudely drawn dicks as you straddle him.

"What the fuck? Stop that!" He laughs hysterically as he tries to push you off. "Babe, I said stop! There's no way those things are even proportionate!"

"Art is subjective! They don't need to be proportionate!" You're barely able to catch your breath from laughing so hard.

"Oh yeah? Subject this!" Frankie rolls over onto you, grabs your eyeliner pen and scribbles onto your face with it, drawing a huge dick and balls on your forehead and your cheeks. You let him, your eyes shut tight, trying to stay still though your body shakes with laughter. "Oh man.. look at you." He leans forward admiring his handiwork. "You look like a little dick-covered goblin. It's hilarious."

You ask for your mirror and he finds it within your duffel bag, then you both take turns checking out each other's artistry, giggling like kids. "Is it too much to ask for a few veins on these guys?" He grumbles.

"You have to earn dick veins. See this one right here? That's you. I drew it from memory. See the slight curve?"

Your smirk turns him on. "Anything else I have to earn? Maybe a wet nap to wipe all this away?"

"I've got something wet you can have.."

With a barely suppressed growl Frankie leans down and kisses you, tongue ravishing your mouth as your moans intermingle, and your limbs wrap around him as they've done hundreds of times. His heated kisses travel down your jaw, your neck where he leaves little love bites, marking you as his to whatever dumbass you decide to flirt with once you part ways after the weekend. Desire blooms, pink to hot red under your skin as he rips open your shirt, sending buttons flying in every direction. Jesus, you're already soaked for him, but he's taking his sweet time as usual, leaving you to want, to beg, to whimper. It's no use. He nips at your breasts, leaving love bites on them as well, little spots of magenta on the tops of your soft tits, before giving attention to your nipples, sucking one while plucking the other, feeling them harden so nicely in his mouth and under his savvy touch.

"Where the hell'd you learn all this patience?" you mutter, biting your lip as his tongue swirls around your navel, while he adeptly pulls down your shorts and panties together.

He glances up then laughs. "Even with those dicks drawn on your face, you're still so hot." He pays attention to the little tattoo of his name on your hip bone, giving it a gentle bite as well, feeling his blood surge when you sigh, arching your hips up, then laves it with his tongue to soothe it. Then he dips his head between your thighs, keeping one hand on your breast and the other on your thigh as he softly swipes you with his tongue, tasting you, moving his tongue in slow circles as he holds you down, knowing you like to be dominated in small ways like this. You taught him everything he knows about eating pussy, from those first fumbling attempts in high school, you guided him on what you wanted and how you wanted it. Now he knows it by heart, but he still listens to your body's signals, to your shuddering sighs and high-pitched screams when he's doing it right.

Tongue tickling your clit, then gently biting your swollen pussy lips, bringing out a sharp, stifled cry from you. "Don't pretend you don't like it, baby," he coos, his breath whispering over your slick folds. "Come on, let me hear you scream.."

Your thighs threaten to close around his head but he's strong enough to keep them wide apart, effectively restraining you as you grind against his face, offering up that honey he can taste even in his dreams. "Come on, baby.. come on.." he urges you, almost tantalizing you, and before you can put forth a smart response the dam breaks, and you feel it in the weakness of your knees before the fire within surges and makes you cry out, fucking his face until you're completely satisfied.

Not missing a beat, he flips you over and lifts your ass, admires your sopping cunt before running his finger along your wetness and offering it to you to suck off. You moan around his finger as he starts to fuck you from behind, spreading your thighs wider so he can see where you're joined, watch the smooth, rhythmic movements as you back up on him, your ass cheeks rippling with each bounce. "Fuck me.. fuck me.." you wail as your fingers clench the fabric of the bedroll beneath you, it's upholstery scratchy against your face as Frankie pushes your shoulders down and keeps your ass up.

"Jesus Christ!" he moans, and the rest of what he mumbles is completely inaudible as he speeds up, knowing the rhythm you like, the rhythm you need in order to cum, and his hands are magic on your clit as he rubs you from beneath.

"Frankieeee!!" His name turns into a moan, punctuated by the slap of his balls thwacking against your cunt. Your hair is wrapped around his hand, and he pulls you up as you support yourself on your arms. He presses in deep and your eyes widen from how he grazes your cervix, careful not to cause you any pain. Your arms wobble as a series of shocks originate deep within your cunt, growing and spreading as you start to cum. Frankie feels the swell rise within you and grunts, pushing harder because that's what's going to send you over the edge. You cry out in unison as you clench around him possessively, keeping his cock there where it belongs, in the first woman he ever fucked, in the only woman he measures everyone else against. He spills himself inside you, fingers indenting themselves on your hips, leaving small bruises, marking himself on your skin.

"We're a disaster," he moans later, catching his breath next to you.

"But we're fun."

"I don't know," he sighs. "It just feels like I've been living a mundane kind of life the past several years."

You raise yourself on an elbow, studying the solemn look on his handsome face. Lately in your texts and emails he's been downhearted, and now you're seeing it in person. His words pull on your heart. "We just fucked and now you want to get sad on me?" Then you smirk and press a soft kiss to his lips as you gently trace his graying beard with your fingertips. "Hey, listen to me: there is nothing mundane about Francisco Morales, okay?"

His smile is wide and he kisses your fingertips. You've put a bandage on his heart. "You're right, I think what I meant was, I've just been in this rut, this monotonous cycle, just doing the same thing over and over."

"Yeah. It's called Middle Age. Population: us." You take some makeup wipes from your bag and you both wipe away each other's dick artwork.

"Hey, no need to remind me I'm not that young anymore," he laughs, trying not to make a face as you wipe his face clean. "I don't wanna be the guy clinging to his youth. I just miss our younger days."

You sigh, settling in against him. "Those were the best times.. stealing my mom's car to go to parties, playing pranks at school, skipping class to make out in your truck.."

"They say high school will be the best years of your life and we laughed it off, calling it bullshit. Maybe they were onto something."

You playfully smack his shoulder. "Don't say that! I'm in my prime."

Frankie chuckles and kisses your forehead. "Sorry, I'm just in my feels tonight."

So are you, and you can't help the next words that come out of your mouth. "Sometimes I wonder how it would have turned out for us if we'd gotten together like everyone thought.." In the distance you hear thunder rumbling.

He shifts position slightly. "I'd like to think we actually would've stayed together. We've known each other forever. That kind of bond doesn't just go away." You're both quiet, lost in those dangerous thoughts of 'what-if' when he says, "You know I'd make you my wife if it weren't for Melissa, right?"

"Don't say that. Melissa's a good woman for you. She doesn't put up with your bullshit."

He continues as if he doesn't hear you, or chooses not to. "I'd leave her for you. I just don't want to continue this charade that we don't mean anything to each other, that our calls and our weekends together are dust in the wind, meaningless."

"Nothing between us is meaningless.. never has been," you whisper as your heart threatens to beat its way outside of your body, to fly straight into Frankie's chest and merge with his own red, throbbing heart. "Frankie, I think your judgment is just a little clouded.."

"Do you know how many times I've laid in bed, thinking about you? How many times I wish my wife was you?"

He starts an ache inside you, one that only he can provide the remedy for, but now things have taken a serious turn. You've never defined your relationship, you always just were. "Frankie, stop. Don't say that. Melissa's one of the few females I actually get along with." You tell yourself if you keep saying her name it'll humanize her, keep her as the victim of the story, the heroine, the protagonist. Whatever will help label you as the villain, because what else would anyone call you if they knew what you were doing?

"I don't take stock in what people say. We can always go back. We can't get back the time that was taken away from us, but we can claim the future for us." He takes a deep breath. "I'm leaving her. I've made up my mind. I'm going to tell her when I get home." He sees the look of shock on your face and he mistakes it for something else. "I've been thinking about this for a long time. This is what I want. And I know it's what you want. You know what? Fuck it, let's just run away together. She'll take the hint. I don't love her the same as I love you. She has to know this by now. Let's just start our lives together. Just go where we want. We can have that." His hands are gripping yours now, and the way he talks is manic, as if he's barely holding onto the last shred of his sanity.

You're shaking your head, going against your weaker nature. "If you'd asked me this a year ago I would've said yes immediately.. I'd follow you to Hell, you know that." Your heart breaks as you consider your next words. "Frankie, you can't leave Melissa, and we can't continue this.."

A pause. "Why the hell not?" You can hear his heart breaking in his voice.

You struggle with what little honor you have left. You promised Melissa you'd keep her secret. But you've also been betraying her trust for years. Your heart is heavy with the choice you have to make.

"She's pregnant," you answer quietly. And the rain starts, a light patter on your tent.

Frankie stares at you as if you're speaking gibberish. "I don't.. wait, what did you say?"

You groan inwardly. It's bad enough you had to say them once, now he needs them repeated. "Frankie, you're going to be a dad.. Melissa gave me the news yesterday.. she wanted to be the first to tell you."

He processes this, and you watch the expressions that cross his face: disbelief, calculation, understanding, then realization. You commit to memory the look of joy that's etched across his features. "That explains so much," he says, a smile growing on his lips. "That's so.. wow!"

Your own heart begins to break. It should be you with the life within you, but it's not. It never will be. You try to be happy for your best friend. As of now, that's all he'll ever be to you. There are so many things you want to say to him in this moment, but you swallow each and every word so that they're stopped in your throat and you choke on them.

When all is said and done, you can't be the number one girl in his life anymore. In fact you're already losing him. He hasn't even brought up the idea of running away with you. That small window of time you once shared has run out. And you have to learn to be okay with it.

At the end of your weekend together, you drop him off at his home where his wife waits out front, a beatific smile on her face. Your stomach twists as you try to keep from your heart turning bitter.

Now that you're both faced with the reality of your separate futures, Frankie turns to you before he exits, and an emotion crosses his face to which you can't put a name. "That can't really be it for us. Nothing has to change between us," he says, a last-ditch effort to keep you.

"We're always going to be friends," you tell him, a tear in your eye that you hope he doesn't see.

"We've never been just friends."

"But I've been selfish in keeping you around.. and I'll never be able to give you what she's giving you."

It's quiet in the car, and there is rarely quietness between you.

"I love you," he says, and you don't doubt it for a minute. You grab hold of his hand.

"I love you too," you tell him. "It's their turn now."

You watch from your car as he reunites with his wife, the intimately joyful conversation they have, after which Frankie picks her up and embraces her happily. It's both the worst kind of pain and the best.

dividers by @firefly-graphics 👑

I’VE MISSED THEM SO MUCH!!!!

😍😍😍

AHHHHH!!! THEY SAID IT!!! Kicking my feet and smiling like an idiot 😍

ungodly and unprofessional

5.6k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader

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summary: who said anything about falling in love? you're just co-workers. warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), smoking, descriptions of food and drink, reader is described to have hair (not descriptive of what color/length/etc.) and wears a waitress uniform, explicit smut, consensual somnophilia, swearing, pet names, allusions to bad parenting/parental abuse, descriptions of a parent abusing drugs and alcohol (please heed these warnings and do not read if you are concerned these may be triggers), lastly not beta'd (lmk if you're interested!) A/N: five or six months later, who really knows. believe it or not, I was never not working on this or thinking about it for all of those months... which is crazy. I completely wing these chapters which is probably why it takes so long but you guys don't mind, right? enjoy these cuties falling deeper <3

“To love someone is firstly to confess: I'm prepared to be devastated by you.” Billy-Ray Belcourt. 

You have this silly poetry book someone gave you as a birthday present or holiday gift exchange a few years ago. You’ve never picked it up until now. You’re shocked to say all of these cheesy love quotes and poems make you think of one very specific person: a guy with dark curls, a scruffy beard, amber eyes, and the perfect smile. Francisco. 

Falling for a man like Frankie feels like growing up— a sign of maturing compared to the ghosts of terrible boyfriend's past. 

Come to find out, it’s easier to go for the wrong guys, easier on your heart in a way — you don’t feel like you are actually losing anything. 

That’s why you would bet on losing dogs. Invest your emotions and need for romance in those who don’t reciprocate. The ones who despise commitment or lack emotional availability leave you in a state of disappointment. 

Better that than full-blown heartache. Better than ripping yourself open at the seams for another, only to be the one to sew yourself back up again. But not better than winning. 

The letter Frankie’s father sent him weeks ago had been burned into your brain. Every single word, each break of a new paragraph, lines of apologies, and convincing stories of ‘the good times’ they used to have. 

Frankie appeared to be just as wary about the letter as you were, neither of you so easily trusting. Frankie didn’t trust his father, but you did trust Frankie—end of story. 

You’ve never known Frankie to be so tightly closed about something that bothers him. He was the type of man who wears his heart on his sleeve, an open book. 

Aside from allowing you to read the letter, you two have barely spoken about it. And not due to your lack of trying. 

There wasn’t a need for you to bring clarity to the situation, it wasn’t up to you to encourage Frankie to allow his father back into his life. But there was still a lot of emotional trauma that he carried that he didn’t have to bear alone. You just wanted him to know that you support him in whatever avenue he decides is best. 

To forgive or to forget. 

Frankie releases a sigh from his parted lips, squeezing his eyes closed tighter as your alarm chimes from your phone on the bedside table. He hates the fucking morning shift. 

The air is sticky and thick, and the fan on his bedroom ceiling is doing little to help. Late August is still taking its toll on Texas and its residents, but he’s reminded that this time last year, he sunk down on his knees in the back kitchen and tasted you on his tongue for the first time. Can’t believe it’s been a year since then. Plus all the events that have transpired since. 

There’s no label between you two other than the fact you are exclusive— putting your focus on each other and not seeing other people. It was good, better than nothing with you. 

His eyelashes finally flutter open, seeing you shift in the dark to turn off the alarm, only to dig your face deep into your pillow. He thinks you’re fucking adorable. 

Frankie is by no means a morning person, but waking up beside you has changed his perspective. Your hair is a scattered mess, the ponytail having fallen loose in the tosses and turns of last night. The sunlight peaking through the blinds highlights the slope of your nose and Cupid’s bow. Arms tucked into your front, leg hiked up like a ballerina.

His mind starts to swirl at the conversation you shared recently, that you wanted to try something… new. To be surprised. To be taken by him in your sleep. 

He was shocked to hear you say it, all shy and meek - it’s not a side of you he sees often. But it’s the vulnerability talking, advocating the trust you share together. 

“I want to wake up with you inside me.”

Frankie had to blink a few times, his large hand cradling your jaw as you spoke in whispers between the sheets. “You— I didn’t know you’d be into that sort of thing.”

“We don’t have to if it’s not your thing. But there’s something about you moving me where you want me to be, being completely under your control, even a little helpless,” you pause, uncertain if your words would scare him off. 

The exact opposite. Frankie was intrigued. 

“The thrill of trying not to wake you up.” He continues, watching your glowing smile return, indicating that Frankie understands why this would feel good to you. 

“My natural reaction, trusting you, knowing that you’ll be careful, knowing that you’re using me— it’s hot, Frankie. You have my consent, I wanna try.” 

Frankie’s stomach churns with excitement, butterflies spreading through his abdomen and up to his chest, his heart thunking eagerly. 

He was slow and methodical, not wanting you to stir from your sleepy state. Nipping at his lower lip, teeth piercing the skin, he works up the courage to touch you. A rough and calloused hand travels up your side, pushing up your sleep tee and watching goosebumps line the tips of his fingers.

Frankie presses slow kisses to the top of your shoulder, feeling his cock swell against the plump of your ass in all of the excitement. He whispers your name, soft and raspy with the morning hour. Other than a small twitch of your nose, you’re out cold. 

“Shh, s’okay angel, m’gonna make you feel good.” The desire stirs in his stomach, urging him to please you in your sleep just like you asked. 

With two crooked fingers, he curls them around the band of your panties and slowly drags them down your soft thighs. You let out a slow sigh between your parted lips, Frankie pausing to watch as you settle once more. 

 Slipping two skilled fingers between your legs, he slowly massages up and down your folds. He’s surprised to already feel the slick between your legs, a low groan of approval leaving the depths of his throat. 

There’s a shift, your hips squirming for more of his touch. You’re so perfectly pliant for him, causing the embers low in his belly to grow with anticipation, the blood rushing to his cock as it hardens against the curve of your ass. 

“Good girl,” he remarks as you let out a little whimper upon the pads of Frankie’s fingers finding your swollen clit. “Even asleep, you’re nice and wet for me, princess.” 

Goddammit, he thinks, how does she have this much of an effect while perfectly asleep? He can’t stand the feeling of not touching her, the carnal need to take her was strong like a magnet, forcing their bodies together. 

One yank and he was out of his briefs, chewing on his lower lip in concentration. He needed to move you, to perfectly fit in the nook of your body, you’d have to be good and yield to him. 

Frankie hikes up your leg and fills in the spaces between your bodies, stroking over himself as he slowly lines his leaking tip along your entrance. Just as he notches his tip inside, a quiet and sleepy gasp leaves your perfect pillowy lips. 

“Right there, baby, you just stay right there for me,” Frankie growls against your ear, his hips flush with yours as he slowly lets inch by inch of him be swallowed by your warm cunt. 

After that, there wasn’t a lot of nicety to him. The level of control he carried was lost. He just wanted to take and take, feel and fuck. He wants to use you like his own personal toy; do whatever he pleases with no resistance. You were his to devour. 

He’s still inside you, but he’s gotten this far, and you’re still out. Even in sleep, you’re pulsing around his cock, so fucking tight around him that it steals the air from his lungs. There’s a hint of discomfort in your face, a quiet gasp held within your expression. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, the hand he holds firmly on your hip now moving under your sleep tee. 

You were so fucking accessible to him, so beautiful, so peaceful being fucked raw. 

He rolls your nipple between his thumb and index finger, getting the reaction he’s been waiting for all morning. A sweet, slow moan tumbles loose from your throat, your hips reeling back to grind against Frankie’s lap. 

He’s somewhat pleased he knows you this well, knows what gets you worked up and gushing. The fact that even in your sleep, you have this reaction towards him makes the fire burning inside his abdomen grow. Maybe a deep part of him gets off on knowing you so well. 

Frankie lets out a sigh at his own thoughts, lightly nipping the skin of your exposed shoulder as he slowly rolls his hips back and glides in again, feeling the drag of your tight pussy keeping him lubed up and warm.

If he weren’t so desperate to fuck you, he’d love to just sit inside you like this all goddamn day. It would probably give him the same comfort as the first cup of coffee. 

He gives your breast one more firm squeeze before returning the attention back to your clit, all desperate and tingling with each eager circle he gives you. 

“So fucking perfect,” he whispers against your ear, his hips continuing at a steady pace until he simply needs more. He hikes up your leg once again to allow himself more movement, smirking as your ass smacks against the front of his hips with each thrust that now jostles your body. 

You’ll surely wake any moment, shocked and sleepy and startled at his cock so deep inside your perfectly spent cunt. 

You whimper each time he fills you, your face digging into the pillow as you moan against the cover. Frankie’s efforts grow needy and demanding, fisting your hair out of his way as he sucks marks into your neck; teeth and tongue massaging the skin before leaving a bruise in its wake.

A sweet little sob exits your parted lips, Frankie groaning at the pretty little noises you make. 

“Take me so well, princess. You want me to keep fuckin’ you, huh?” He snarls against your neck, smirking as you hiss at the sensations you’re feeling all throughout your body.  

Suddenly, your eyes flutter open. They absorb the settings around you and it all clicks. A long, desperate moan crawls from the depths of your throat, your movements sluggish but your hand eventually clasps onto Frankie’s forearm, his fingers still swirling around your clit. 

“Ohmy— Frankie, fuck,” you gasp as you feel the full force of his cock drilling deep inside your pussy. Your voice is still thick with sleep, eyes cloudy with lust, and skin-prickling sensations that you had never felt before; a million emotions, but the standout being desperation to come undone like this with a man you trust. 

“This what you wanted, angel? Wake up with my cock stuffed between your legs?” Frankie smirks as he presses his lips against your cheek, jaw dropping against your own as you ride out the high together. 

You cry out something wrecked, a garble of syllables as your spine arches against his front. You weren’t given the pleasure of feeling the orgasm build and build; you woke up at its high heat. 

In an instant, your skin was clammy, hair sticking to your skin as desperate pants filled the room, along with broken moans of Frankie’s name. 

It’s exactly what you wanted, maybe better. Yes, way better. 

You’re so tight, literally clinging to every single inch he gives you as your slick drenches his cock. Your nails dig into his tan skin, feeling the muscles and tendons work to play with your clit. 

A whimper leaves you as the warmth in your stomach boils over, turning your head over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes are dark, cast over with lust as he stole you in your sleep. In an instant, he meets you with a messy kiss, your bodies and the bed still jolting with each rough thrust he gives you. 

“Please,” you moan against his lips, nodding your head as you look into his eyes. “Come inside me, I wanna feel it, please, give it to me, Frankie,” your words turn into a whine as he begins to fuck you harder, deeper, his tip tickling your cervix as you damn near blackout from the pleasure. 

The pleasure inside of you finally reaches the surface. The feeling was like a wave breaching over your rocky shores, washing over you both in pleasure as your cunt spasms around his thick cock. 

Frankie spoils your clit as his hips snap against your ass, one, two, three more times before the feeling of you overcomes him. He braces you tightly in his arms, panting against your shoulder, eyes clenching closed as he lets out broken grunts of release. He paints your insides with his spend, both of you relaxing in one another’s hold as you slowly descend from heaven. 

“Jesus Christ,” Frankie breathes, shaking his head with a tilted smirk. “You don’t know what you do to me.” He remarks as you look over your shoulder in a haze. 

You whimper as you pull him in closer, fingers weaving into the curls at the back of his head and encouraging him to meet your parted lips. 

The words are at the tip of your tongue, and you can feel them spread heat throughout your body. You can hear both of your hearts beating, thundering against the human flesh, and signaling the feeling of being alive. 

Frankie waits for the words. The feeling of anticipation has been lingering for quite some time. Your touch of nervousness was welcome, expected even. A moment in time when your heart feels exposed but also overwhelmingly full. Only hoping that the other person feels the same way, yet uncertain of how they will respond. A game of chicken of who will say it first and who will have to respond. The leap of faith one will be forced to make and the right words the other will have to find.

Both roles are downright frightening. 

You’re risking everything, the biggest gamble one can make without physical currency. 

But he sees the panic behind your eyes, the nervewracking feeling of saying the sacred words to someone, maybe even for the first time. And he knows that they will be worth it to hear. 

“I know,” he whispers against your lips, shaking his head in a way that tells you he knows what you’re thinking. “I know.” 

You don’t attend church, so you have one question: why the fuck is God sending people to get brunch after Sunday’s service? Why is that their beck and call? 

Every Sunday morning, like clockwork, a flock of people flood the diner with their church clothes and a hankering for waffles and Frankie’s house lumberjack skillet (you wanna know what’s in it, don’t you?)

Frankie’s Secret Ingredients:

Potatoes: 1/4 lb (about 4-5 small potatoes)

Olive Oil: 1/2 tablespoon

Breakfast Sausage Links: 3 oz (about 4 links)

Onion: 1/8 of a whole onion, chopped

Red Pepper: 1/4 of a whole red pepper, chopped

Jalapenos: 1/2 jalapeno, sliced (omit if person looks too old to handle)

Butter: 1 tablespoon

Hickory Maple Seasoning: 1/2 teaspoon

Eggs: 2 large eggs

Milk: 1 tablespoon

Cheddar Cheese: 2 tablespoons, shredded

Anyway, Tommy’s Diner is slammed by mid-morning, and you’re working up a sweat. You’re wiping at your neck and forehead every few minutes, and the sun filtering through the windows does little justice to cool your skin. Tina called out sick, which is code for hungover from Saturday. It’s overwhelming. Your brain feels like the scrambled eggs you just plated for that family of four.

“Enjoy,” you whisper a little breathlessly, tucking your notepad into the front of your apron, rubbing at your temple with the heel of your hand as you walk past the rest of your tables. 

By the time you lift your head, you see a large potbelly man who is waving an arm up above his head, fingers already snapping incessantly. He looked like a chubby rat, with a large dark-haired mustache and a shirt that didn’t fully cover the beer gut he was sporting.

“Uhm, hello? Miss, can we get some service over here?” 

Jesus fucking Christ. Your jaw tightens a few notches, pushing your hair out of your face and wrapping around to their table. You remember them; you took their table’s order a bit ago now - shit, did you forget their plates? No, you didn’t. 

Stopping at the head of their table, you smile politely at the large family. 

“Hi, can I get you something while you wait?”

The man scoffs and snaps, “Uh, yeah, our food.”

Taking a deep breath wasn’t enough; you were a ticking time bomb. “Sir, do you see how many people are in the diner? We’re at capacity with a line out the door. I understand you’ve been waiting, but our kitchen is backed up and-” 

“Bull-honkey-bullcrap, little miss,” the man raises his voice, spitting violently with each syllable, “This is ridiculous! We’ve been sittin’ here for nearly an hour. How hard is it to make some eggs and Mickey Mouse pancakes, huh? You just that stupid? What the hell is goin’ on back there? Are you people completely incompetent, or are you just ignorin’ us?”

Worse things have been said to your face, but you’re at your breaking point. You can feel your face flush with warmth radiating throughout your body. Now, the entire diner is staring at you from all the commotion. Your lungs feel tight, a headache casting heavy behind your face. Tears line your eyes, but you don’t dare let them fall. 

“Again, I’m really sorry, but like I said, the kitchen is backed up.” But apologizing isn’t enough. This guy just wanted someone to take his punches. 

“Don’t even try to apologize. I don’t wanna hear your pathetic excuses. How hard is it to cook some damn eggs? This place is a joke. You must be the worst server I’ve ever dealt with. ‘Nd I swear, if I wanted this kind of useless service, I’d go to a fast food joint. Is this how you treat payin’ customers, or ya’ll just this lazy? Do your job, or I’ll make sure everyone knows how worthless you and this diner is.”

You clutch the empty coffee pot tightly, biting your tongue. Turning swiftly, you head straight for the back swinging door. You don't intend to contribute to the chaos or the bustling mess in the kitchen, but here, in the safety of the back section, you allow a few stray tears to escape.

Shoulder blades hitting the cold brick, you wish to blend into the wall. It feels like the air’s been knocked out of you, your chest heavy and tight. Every sound around you blurs as the man’s harsh words replay in your mind, louder and louder each time. Your hands shake just enough to want to hide them behind your back, feeling afraid to have eyes on you in such a vulnerable state. Exposed. You’ve absorbed the anger meant for something or someone else, so now, it sticks to you, something you can’t wash away. 

Your name echoes once, twice. 

“Hey,” A calm amongst the rushing waves - it’s Frankie. You blink him into focus, bleary tears slowly fading away. His red bandana is tied tight around his forehead to catch the sweat from his forehead and hair. His face is laced with concern. He wipes his hands off on his apron, gently capturing your face as he shields you from the rest of the kitchen. 

And just like that, life returns to your body. You can feel the tips of your fingers, previously tingling, wiping under your eyes as you hiccup through your breaths. Frankie knows this high-traffic area will only make your anxiety worse. 

“It’s okay, take a deep breath and tell me what happen.”

The eyes of the kitchen staff are slowly starting to turn to you, asking if you’re alright and why you’re upset. Shaking your head dismissively, you blink away your tears and look down at the grubby floor that probably hasn’t been mopped since the invention of flip phones. 

“I’m fine. This customer just got pissed and yelled at me. He was upset that his food was running behind, and I tried to explain that the kitchen was backed up.” You part your lips to continue, but the jaw drops of the kitchen staff signal shock by your words. 

They all start honking in unison like a flock of geese. 

“He what?”

“Which fuckin’ table?”

“I’d knock’em out if I wasn’t on probation.” 

But that doesn’t sit well with Frankie, not at all. His back straightens, having previously been craning to see your face, now strict with annoyance. 

“Is that him?” Frankie asks as he walks to the window between the kitchen and the back counter, narrowing his eyes on the rat man and his family. 

“Frankie, please don't,” you huff, already refilling your pots of coffee and hoping to just forget the whole thing ever happened. 

But it’s not okay. Because this guy made you cry, and what the hell was it for? Some scrambled eggs and bacon on delay?

The rest of the line cooks have abandoned their food to gawk at the asshole who thinks he can get away with yelling at one of their own like that. 

Frankie tightens his bandana and peels off his gloves, slapping them down in the trash. 

His boots thunder across the linoleum, catching the attention of many of the patrons on his way to the booth by the window where the rat man has continued to reside angrily. Even worse, he chuckles at the sight of Frankie. 

“What, the crybaby went to complain? Bring her back. I’ll tell her I’m sorry.” He sneers, shaking his head. 

“No, you’re done with her. You’re dealin’ with me now.” Frankie snags an empty chair from a nearby table, turns it around, and straddles the seat as he gets aggressive with the burly man. 

“I just feel terrible that we’re not meeting the quality of service you expected. What seems to be the problem?” Frankie asks with a hint of venom lining his words. 

“Well- we’ve been waitin’ here for half an hour and-”

“Right, and what did the pretty waitress say?”

The man scoffs lightly, feeling embarrassed with all the eyes on him not once but twice now. “Well, she said the kitchen was backed up.”

“That’s right, that’s right, well, I’m the fuckin’ kitchen. You wanna yell at someone? Well, I thought I’d give you the chance to yell at me since I’m the reason we’re a little behind. Go ahead, I can take it. Give it to me like you gave it to her.”

The rat man stares blankly, looking from left to right in surprise, but his family all gawks at Frankie. 

Frankie waits, eyes unblinking, face hardened as the man sputters up something weak in response. 

“This is ungodly and unprofessional,” he gargles, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 

“You’re absolutely right!” Frankie says, smacking the table with his closed fist before pointing at the rat man, the tip of his finger inches from his face. “I am unprofessional, but that’s because I don’t have the great customer service skills of our waitresses. That’s her job,” Frankie juts a thumb backward towards the kitchen in your direction. “So now, instead of cookin’ you and your ugly wife and kids some food, I gotta come out here and knock some sense into ya since you seemed to have lost your manners. So you gonna let her do her job so I can get back to mine?”

You can only watch from the window in shock, hand over mouth, unblinking eyes - but it’s like a car crash you can’t look away from. The man is shocked into an embarrassed silence. 

“We’ll just… we’ll wait. There’s-uh-there’s a lotta people here.” 

Frankie sighs and smiles with fake relief. He stands from the chair, looking around the quiet restaurant. 

“Everybody else enjoyin’ their food?”

They all seem too scared of Frankie to complain again to the psycho chef. Chants of ‘Everything’s great!’ or “Thank you!” echo through the dining room. 

You smile warmly, forcing yourself to turn away from the scene and clean up your teary makeup in the bathroom. But all you can think about is Frankie. Francisco. Stupid Catfish. Stepping in like that to protect you, to make that jerk take accountability. It makes your heart flutter knowing how much he cares. And you feel the same way.

It’s about time you tell him. 

Knuckles wrap against the bathroom door, and an echo of, “You okay?” follows. 

He comes in without a response, somewhat relieved to find you adjusting your hair and wiping at the smeary makeup. Your eyes soften at the sight of him, watching in the reflection. He looks disheveled and annoyed, shaking his head as he starts ranting about rat man. 

“I don’t get how people like that- the God-loving church people- come in here and act like they weren’t just told at a sermon to love thy neighbor or whatever bullshit.”

He continues, but all you do is stare.

A part of you thinks he defends others due to his childhood. No one picks on the people Frankie cares about. That letter riled him up, maybe more than either of you had realized. He’s thinking about those times of the past, the innocent hurt by the deviant. 

“You didn’t deserve that, I’m sorry, he’s a fucking dick. You don’t have to take his food out, I’ll do it. Honey,” he breathes, hand resting on your shoulder as he gently turns you around to face him. “Are you mad at me? I know you told me not to go out there, but no one makes you cry if I can help it, y’know? I don’t want him to think he can get away with that.”

Once Frankie starts ranting, it’s really hard to get him to stop. 

“Frankie,” you breathe out, resting your hand over the one he holds on your shoulder. 

“I mean, does he really think that it’s smart to be rude to the staff? I’ll spit in his food, and it will feel really good because he’ll have no idea.”

“Frankie,”

“You’re a good fucking waitress! Doesn’t he see the entire breakfast bar and all the booths filled with guests? The line out the door wasn’t an indication of how busy it is? Get a fuckin’ brain, I mean-”

In an instant, you tilt your chin up, catching his gaze just long enough to see the shift in his eyes before your lips meet. Your hands slide around his neck, fingers weaving into the soft curls at the nape, gently tugging him down toward you. The kiss begins with an urgency, part playful, part to silence his words, but mostly, it's to thank him in a way that words never could.

Frankie’s initial surprise fades quickly as he melts into you, his breath hitching for a moment. His hands travel to your waist, sliding around until they lock just above your hips, anchoring you to him. He presses closer, his touch firm yet tender, and slows the kiss, savoring the warmth of your lips. You feel the way his body relaxes, how he leans in, letting the world around you both fall away as he holds you, close and unmoving, like he’s never letting go.

It takes every ounce of courage in your body to pull away, your lips lingering against his for a heartbeat longer than necessary, as if tethered by an invisible force. Slowly, you break the kiss, your breath shaky, heart racing. His forehead rests against yours for a moment, his eyes still half-closed, unaware of the words hanging on the edge of your lips.

You gently pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers still laced in his hair, trembling slightly. His eyes search yours, soft and expectant, filled with something unspoken but unmistakable.

With a deep inhale, you let the words slip out, vulnerable and raw, barely louder than a whisper, but heavy with meaning.

“I love you.”

The world stands still as the words hang in the air, your heart pounding as you wait for the weight of what you’ve just said to settle between you.

And then he smiles like an idiot. And you’re joining him. 

“Did you say what I think you said? Did you say that you love me?" His voice is soft, teasing, as he presses his forehead against yours, capturing your lips with a few playful, quick kisses between his words. “Come on, say it again.”

You feel your heart flutter, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Frankie’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “I heard you say it. Now you can’t take it back,” he adds with a grin, pulling you tighter, his arms leaving no space between you.

You giggle, your hands pushing lightly against his shoulders, though he doesn’t budge. “Stop, that was really hard,” you huff, breathless, as though the words had stolen all the air from your lungs.

Frankie just shakes his head, his smile fading into something softer, more real, as the weight of the moment catches up with him. “I’ve thought about better places or times to tell you this, I wanted to wait until you were ready,” he whispers, his voice hushed with disbelief, eyes locking onto yours, “but I love you more than you’ll ever know. More than you’ll ever understand or dream. I love you.”

His thumb traces the curve of your cheekbone, a gentle, affectionate touch that sends shivers down your spine. The intensity in his gaze mirrors your own, both of you lost in this shared vulnerability, your hearts speaking in unison.

“I love you, too,” you breathe, the words falling effortlessly this time, as if they’ve always been waiting for this moment.

So, yeah. You sort of love your co-worker Francisco Morales. 

The sun is blinding—orange and yellow streams of light as it is forced to set along the horizon. It’s slow but noticeable, sinking into the land beyond what you can see.

The sun goes down in Texas once again. 

Frankie raises his cigarette, its glowing tip mirroring the fiery hues of the sunset.

His neighborhood is tranquil, lined with single-story homes and tree-bordered streets where autumn's touch is just around the corner. Children ride bikes, joggers and dog walkers pass by, and new parents push their baby strollers—a picturesque scene that feels meticulously arranged yet somehow distant. Frankie, too, feels out of place here.

"You got pretty worked up today—more than usual," you say softly.

Frankie lets out a dry chuckle, cigarette between his lips as he leans back on his elbows, squinting at the fading sun. "Yeah, maybe. You think I’m off right now?" He tilts his head, genuinely curious, as if searching for what’s changed.

You shrug, glancing at him with a fond smile. "I think that letter from your dad has you more rattled than you realize. I found it in your sock drawer this morning."

Frankie’s gaze drops to his lap, a flicker of shame crossing his face.

"I thought you said you were gonna toss it?" you muse gently, watching as his mind churns, cigarette hovering at his lips before he sighs deeply.

"You’re too observant," he smirks. "I don’t know why I haven’t crumpled, burned, or shredded it into pieces by now. I have every right to."

You rest a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing the tension there. "But you didn’t. Why?"

Frankie bites his lower lip nervously, glancing your way. "At the end of the apology letter, he asked to take me out for my birthday. Put down the time, place—everything. Said he’d wait for me."

Your expression softens, letting him know you’re here, really listening. "And you’re thinking about it?"

"Yeah… I guess so. But I don’t even know what I’d say. I’ve only seen him once or twice since I moved out. It’s been years. And when I do see him, I’m thirteen all over again, just yelling at him, so angry. I see his face, and it’s like a switch flips. And that’s not me. You know that’s not me," Frankie stammers, panic flickering in his eyes.

"I know," you whisper, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He pulls you closer, resting his head against yours as the weight of it all settles.

After a deep breath, Frankie gathers himself. "He used to bring out the worst in me. I don’t know if I still hate him as much. Time’s passed, maybe he’s changed. But I’m not holding my breath."

He’s an adult now, more guarded, wiser to the people who’ve hurt him. He’s fought through battles and traumas you don’t even know about. Yet, in his eyes, there’s a flicker of hope. Maybe his dad has turned a corner, maybe he’s cleaned up, seen his mistakes. But you know better than to trust in maybes.

And you’d protect him from being let down again.

"Do you want me to go with you?" you offer quietly.

Frankie’s eyes snap to yours, wide and searching.

"Okay," he says after a long pause. "Let’s do it."

a steadfast heart will conquer

summary: you show up at frankie’s doorstep in the middle of the night after your boyfriend gets violent. he invites you in and lets you stay with him.

pairings: frankie morales x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of bruises

At midnight, you speak in fragments.

“I’m at your front door.”

He’s more asleep than awake. He doesn’t have the brain to question you.

“It’s raining.”

He can tell. He can hear it through the phone and from his bedroom window.

“Can you come let me in? Please?” You ask, and before he can say anything, you hang up. He stares at his phone, but figures there’s a girl at his front door, waiting to be let in.

He takes a second to unlock the door, in his groggy state, and sure enough, there you are, in all your midnight glory, on his front doorstep. It’s more romantic in movies, he thinks.

There’s nobody outside except for you. The streets are desolate, and the lamplight is obscured by the pouring rain. It thuds off of your car that’s parked in his driveway, and he knows it’ll bleed in through the crack in the door that doesn’t quite meet the frame.

He’ll help you fix it tomorrow.

But right now, you lean into him, slowly, and wrap your arms around his neck. You're wet, he notes. Wet and cold. He’s sure you're soaked down to your socks. Hair, jacket, shoes, all dripping onto his hardwood floor. You're still on the steps, so he pulls you in, but you refuse to untangle yourself from him. The wind sounds even harder now with the two of you inside.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he mutters, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He pulls back to look at your face, but you're buried deep in his chest. He wishes it was under different circumstances.

The pouring rain punctuates every silence. He can feel you shaking.

You don’t answer.

He lets you not answer.

There’s a storm brewing in his chest. He has a sickening premonition as to why you’re here. He tries to ignore it, but his gut instinct is always right.

He shuffles awkwardly to close the door, and it muffles the rain. He can hear you sniffling now.

“What happened?”

There is only moonlight streaming in from the window over the couch. You keep your face buried in his chest when he flicks the light on. It’s harsh and bright and he grabs you by the shoulders, pulling you back to look at him but you don't remove your face from his warm, dry chest.

So he waits.

“What’s wrong?” he asks again, softer, in your ear. You rub your forehead on his worn t-shirt, and his arms find their way around your shoulders.

You find the strength to look at him from somewhere deep inside you, eyes red and swollen, eyelashes dark with tears. You squint almost imperceptibly, adjusting to the light. You’ve never felt more safe than in his embrace. Your noses almost touch.

The last and only thing he wants to do is kiss you.

He notices the red mark right away.

On your temple. His eyes soften. You watch him look at you, almost like it’s the first time.

“He hit me,” you say, congested from the tears.

Like he doesn’t notice. Like he doesn’t feel anger shoot up into his chest, heat and warmth and fire in his fingertips, down the back of his calves and aching his face. His sickening premonition coming true. He can’t come up with a single reason as to why he would do this to you. It makes fury throb in his bones. He can see your boyfriend throwing the punch and it makes him want to vomit how enraged he is.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks sincerely.

“Want me to hurt him? I’ll hurt him, you know I will. I’ll hurt him so bad,” he trails off, jaw hard and teeth grinding. Nostrils flared and lip twitching.

“No.”

He watches you rest your head on his chest, the side that your good-for-nothing dick stick didn’t punch, and he’s so careful with you, soft hands and rigid muscles.

“I just...” you start, and he’s listening. He’s listening to every word.

“I didn’t want him to hurt me. And I didn’t want to hurt him. So I... left. I went and sat in the CVS parking lot,” you admit. He figures you needed someone to talk to. He wanted someone to listen to. He’s wide awake now. He still has fight in his blood, so he repurposes it. He holds you, securely. Strong and firm.

“I was gonna fight back... but I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, I really didn’t.” you say. He closes his eyes. He steadies his breathing. How could someone so sweet, so powerful, so kind, end up with the exact antithesis of all of those things?

“I know,” he reassures, “I know you didn’t.”

You sigh shakily into his chest. He’s there for you. He’s steadfast and unwavering. You could collapse into him and you trust he would catch you, help you up, dust you off, or in your case, dry you off. But you don’t. You stand strong with him, and you let herself be supported by him. You yourself whole still. Shaky, and faltering, but whole, all by yourself. With him there, you feel a little steadier, resolute in your decisions. He supports you, and you love him for it.

“Can I stay here?” you ask.

“Of course,” he replies.

His clothes don’t fit you, but you don’t mind and neither does he.

Your hair smells like roses and rain.

You take his bed; he takes the couch.

It’s hard for him to fall asleep there, but he doesn’t mind that, either.

It’s four AM when you wake him up for the second time this morning. The grogginess is stronger than before, it seems. You’re on your knees in front of the couch, face level with him, and he jerks back in surprise.

“I’m sorry,” you say, placing a hand on his chest. His bare chest. His shirt is somewhere, he doesn’t care where. It got hot, he recalls.

“Y’scared me,” he mumbles. Would this girl let him get any sleep?

“Come sleep with me. I feel bad,” you say.

“Woke me up ‘cause y’feel bad?” he asks, and you can tell he’s irritated, but tired more than anything. Sleep carries heavily through his voice.

“No,” you clarify, “I woke you up ‘cause I had a nightmare.”

Now he’s the one that feels bad.

He lets you lead him to his own bed, but he makes a pit stop on the way to use the bathroom. He finds you curled up under his covers, staring at the doorway, waiting for him.

He smiles and joins you. He sleeps on his back. You sleep on your stomach.

He has one pillow. you have one too.

You both listen to each other breathe.

You throw an arm over his stomach. He rubs his thumb over your hand.

It’s not storming anymore, but you can both feel the electricity in the sky.

The old, squeaky mattress creaks as you move, swapping your pillow for his shoulder. It’s not as bony as you thought it would be.

You only wake up when his alarm goes off on the nightstand beside you.

You groan, and realize you’re curled up with someone in a bed that’s not your own. Your face aches as you relive the events of last night.

He wakes up when you shift to turn off the alarm, taking his time to notice you.

“Hey,” you say, in his shirt.

“Morning,” he yawns, not in his shirt.

“Thank you,” you start, but he cuts you off.

“No no no, don’t do that, don’t make it...” he trails, sitting up in bed. He rubs the sleep from his eyes again. All things considered, he got some decent sleep. He thinks it might have something to do with the warm body that was pressed up against him all night.

“No, really,” you say. You sit criss-cross on your side of the bed, and he has to remind himself that it’s his own bed (singular), not your bed (plural), and the whole bed is his bed. But for now, he can say it’s your side of the bed. At least to himself.

“Thank you for being there for me.” you say finally. He smiles at you.

“Of course.” He whines as he yawns, and things are okay for now. The storm is over.

“You want breakfast?” He asks, getting up and stopping at his dresser to put on shorts. His boxers were fine last night, but now that the sun is shining through the window, it’s kind of weird. He pulls on a shirt too.

“I have taquitos,” he says walking into his kitchen, and you squint at him, hot on his tail.

“Taquitos for breakfast?” you ask skeptically, and he makes his way over to the freezer.

“Taquito time is all the time.” He clarifies, taking the cardboard box from underneath a tub of ice cream and a bag of frozen peas. He freezes, before he turns around to look at you.

“Do you, uh, want some ice for that?” He says, and it takes you a second to realize what he means.

You touch the bruise softly, applying light pressure and wincing when it hurts.

He notices and puts the box down on the counter, wrapping the peas thoroughly in paper towels before handing them to you.

You nod a thank you, and hop up on his counter, holding them to your face.

He notices his shirt on you again, and his shorts on you, and how domestic this would be if that mistake hadn’t laid his hands on you. Though he does admit, you probably wouldn’t have been here in the first place without that run in.

He thinks he’d rather never see you again rather than have you come to him hurt like that.

He moves over to you, and carefully moves your head away from the cabinets holding the dish ware so he can open it. There’s tension in the air. He plates the taquitos and you listen to the buzz of the microwave as they warm up.

Neither of you touch your respective phones while you eat your taquitos. There are decisions to be made that will have consequences. You glance at your phone, but look away each time. Your eyes never meet. You both focus on the plate of miniature crunchy tortillas made with fake corn, filled with beef that was probably artificial. Neither of you mind.

After breakfast, or what could be sufficed as breakfast, he watches you finally check your phone.

“seventeen missed calls,” you read, “and thirty something texts.”

“Wow.”

“Not as crazy as I expected,” you note.

“Wanna see if he left any batshit voicemails?” you ask, grinning. He’s less than excited. Your smile falters as you read the texts.

“What? What’d he say?” he asks, getting up from the table to read over your shoulder. You make no move to hide the texts from him and something like relief floods his veins for a split second.

“Nothing,” you clarify, “just that... he’s so sorry… how he’s such a terrible person, that he’ll never do it again.”

He stares at you.

You ignore the messages and lock your phone.

You look up at Frankie.

“So?” he asks.

“So?” you ask back. He clears his throat.

“What are you gonna tell him?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh, grabbing the empty plate and sliding past him. You turn on the faucet in the sink and wait for it to get hot.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, but you don’t respond.

You add soap to a sponge and start washing the minimal dishes there: a bowl, a few spoons, your plate, a whisky glass.

He stands by you, grabbing a hand towel from the countertop and wiping the dishes down before putting them away.

“Why don’t you have a drying rack?” you ask, as he puts away the last of the glasses.

“I dunno,” he says, “I don’t have that many plates and forks and stuff, so I just dry it and put it away as I go.”

“Hmm,” you remark, and turn off the faucet. He hands you the dish towel and you wipe your hands dry before folding it and placing it on the counter. You look at him and sigh. The elephant in the room is demanding your attention.

“What do you think I should tell him?”

He stares at your bruise, and he feels the anger from last night bubble up in his throat again.

“That you’re gonna send me to beat him the fuck up.” He says, and you roll your eyes, staring at him endearingly.

“I’m not getting back together with him.” you say, and he feels his heart do some weird stuff in his chest.

“It’s over for us. I’m breaking up with him the next time I see him.” you say, a finality in your words that make him confident you would do as you said.

“Good.” He crosses his arms and shifts his weight to one side.

“Should I go see him today?” you ask.

“Do you want to?” he questions. You sigh and shake your head.

“You’re no help.”

“Hey! I’m so much help,” he defends, and you smile at him.

“Sure.”

“I can go with you if you want,” he says seriously. You stare at him.

“If you want,” you offer, and he nods his head.

“Okay.” you say.

He watches you grab your phone and your now dry clothes and make your way into his bathroom. He listens as you close the door and waits until he hears the water start running, accompanied by soft music.

He squeezes the bridge of his nose and takes a second to examine the thawing bag of peas on his kitchen table.

He smiles to himself as he makes out the lyrics of your song.

As he puts the bag back in his freezer, he runs a nervous hand through his hair and stares at your car in his driveway.

He wants nothing more than to bruise you up himself, his mouth on your skin, his hands on your hips.

But that thought is fleeting. He gets closer to the bathroom and can hear you singing clearly, and he takes a second to listen before he speaks.

“Hey, I’m gonna go take a quick look at your car, okay?”

The water turns off.

“What?”

“I’m—I’m gonna go look at your car!” he says loudly, “the leaky door!”

There’s quiet for a moment before you’re unlocking the door, in only a towel. His towel.

“Thank you!” you beam, and with one hand clutching the towel to your chest, you hand him your car keys.

“They were in my pocket. It’d be kinda hard to get in without them,” you joke.

“Yeah, ‘course.” He grins lopsidedly, keeping his eyes a respectable distance from your naked torso.

With a smile, you close the door in his face.

The music resumes, as does the water, and Frankie breathes.

It would be a miracle if he made it through the day without sending someone to the hospital.

Afterglow

Chapter Twelve of the Through the Scope series | Chapter Thirteen

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5.5K

Chapter Overview: Frankie brings Estrella lunch & more than one secret is exchanged between group members

TW: p in v penetration, sex in public (sort of), mentions of past sexual assault, trauma and PTSD

Notes: hey everyone !! cheers to me for not taking a month to put out this chapter lololol,, i think this one might be in my top three of the chapters i've written for through the scope so please let me know what y'all think ! as usual...my asks are always open & happy reading <3

*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You haven’t seen your dad in a little over a week so there is a lot to catch each other up on. When you get there, he isn’t using a cane this time. He traded in his singular cane for two forearm crutches. You aren’t sure if this signals an improvement or a decline and guilt sweeps through your body. Maybe if you had been here instead of with the guys, you would know the answer to your mental question. You moved here to support him after all. It feels like your life is being pulled in two separate directions and it's killing you that you haven’t had time to finally unify them. 

You’re nervous to tell your dad about Frankie. It doesn’t have anything to do with being ashamed or embarrassed of him, but it has always been easier to talk with your mom about boys and dating. Moments like this cause you to miss her more than normal. After the both of you discuss his weekly progress and PT sessions, you decide to change the subject. You know that he’s tired of having to talk about his recovery all the time even though he would never turn you down if and when you asked. 

“So, what’s new with you and your girlfriend?”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It feels weird to inquire about a prospective suitor in your dad’s life. You’re not ignorant to the fact that he may be lonely, but it doesn’t take away the strangeness of it. Your mother was the first love of his life, yet that doesn’t mean that she has to be the last.

“The date went well if that’s what you’re getting at.”

You realize that he must be just as nervous to talk to you about Maggie as you are to talk to him about Frankie. 

“Are you going to see her again?”

“I see her everyday.” He snorts sarcastically. Although, when he sees that you’re less than amused with his joke he pipes up again. “Yeah, I think so. I want to get strong enough to take her to a restaurant. I know I said that the place doesn’t matter, but I’m getting restless.”

“But not before our car show, right? You said you wanted to do that first.”

“But not before the car show.” He echos. “Don’t worry, Sweet Pea. You’re still my number one girl.” His hand comes to rest over yours lovingly. “How’s work coming along? And your friends?”

“Work is going really great. I actually like what I do if you can believe it or not. The fights we host on Friday nights have also been a blast to watch.” He didn’t need to know that you spent the last fight night parading around half naked for a room full of drunk men and women. Even if you are an adult, some things are better kept secret. “My friends are great too.”

“Is that why you haven’t been stopping by as frequently lately?”

There is no disappointment or sadness in his voice when he asks you this question. If anything, you think you can detect some happiness and hope.

“Sort of.” You fidget around in your chair. “I had actually been seeing one of them for a few weeks, Frankie, and he asked me to be his girlfriend the other day.”

“Did he now?” He sits up straighter and has adopted a more protective, fatherly tone.

“Yes, he did.” You answer without bothering to hide your growing smile. “He’s so wonderful, dad. He has been nothing but kind and caring since I met him. All the guys have been, if I’m being honest, but I was only ever interested in Frankie.”

“What does he do for a living?”

You can feel your dad trying to mentally size him up.

“He’s a mechanic at a local auto body shop currently, but he was a pilot in the military before that. All of the guys served together.”

“A man who works with his hands and who served his country. That’s very respectable.”

“I think so.” Your voice sounds proud in your ears.

Your dad is traditional, for better or for worse, so you knew he would be pleased with Frankie’s occupations. He kept asking you questions about Frankie which you happily answered, but you never let his tumultuous past come into the conversation. Yes, that’s a part of Frankie, but that isn’t who he is anymore.

“I want to meet this man.” Your dad says finally. “I want to see who’s got you smiling like this.”

“Maybe he can come to the car show with us and you can meet him then? It’s still a very new relationship, you know. That way I’ll have some extra time to see if it’s serious or not. I don’t want to waste your time with someone I’m not going to keep around.”

You are surprised when he readily agrees with your proposal. You were sure he was going to fight you on meeting Frankie sooner, not that you minded, but it's nice to know that he trusts your judgment. 

“It might be refreshing to have someone there that actually knows a thing or two about cars.” He teases.

“Maybe he’ll give you a run for your money knowledge wise, huh?” You joke back.

You hang out with him for about another hour before y’all call it a night. As you walk to your car you recall what you told your dad. I don’t want to waste your time with someone I’m not going to keep around. The truth is that you know Frankie is someone worth keeping around. You can feel it in your very bones. You know that the care you have for him now will only grow in the coming months and you can’t wait to see what it blooms into you. Although, you already have a small idea. 

***

“I’m goin’ to have to miss our lunch today.” Benny rounds the brick wall and walks up to the side of your desk patting his forehead with a towel. “I have been meanin’ to go down to the police station ever since Rochelle went ballistic.”

“Wait, what?” You spin your chair to face him, handing him a water bottle. “I thought everything got taken care of that night? How come you are going down there?”

“The officers and I got to talkin’ and they told me that I could file a restrainin’ order against her. Would have done it right then and there if it didn’t have so much damn paperwork involved. I just want to make sure that it never happens again, for both your and Fish’s sake.”

“Oh, Benny.” You reach up and rub his arm.

“Think you can hold it down for at least a couple of hours? I’m not sure how long everythin’ will take me to complete.” He places his hand over yours and you aren’t sure who’s comforting who anymore.

“I can handle it. Don’t worry about me.” You turn your attention to the computer. “Your Thursday schedule is really light too. Just a few one on one sessions late this afternoon.”

He nods approvingly before heading back into the gym. “I’m goin’ to head out in about 10 minutes then. Don’t miss me too much.”

“I’ll be counting the seconds until you come back.” You say in a sarcastic, dreamy voice.

As soon as Benny heads back, you whip out your phone to text Frankie.

You: Please tell me you haven’t taken your lunch break yet.

Frankie: I was going to clock out for it in about 15 minutes. Why? What’s up?

You: Benny has to leave for a few hours to run some errands…maybe you could have lunch over here today? Just you and me?

Frankie: I would love that, cariño. Too bad the rest of the gym rats can’t run some errands too.

A cheeky grin splays across your face as you type your next message.

You: It would be a shame if the ‘open’ sign accidentally flipped to ‘closed’ when you got here…wouldn't it?

Frankie: Such a shame indeed.

You: I’ll text you when he heads out! I can’t wait to see you, Frankie (:

The Miller boys are nothing if not punctual. Benny heads out exactly when he said he would with promises of being back in time for his sessions later this evening. You’re so excited that you fire off a ‘coast is clear’ text to Frankie before Benny has even finished pulling out of the parking lot.

Frankie: On my way to you, Estrella.

You feel giddy like you have never felt before. This feeling warms your entire body, but turns into a raging fire when you see that familiar white truck pull into view 20 minutes later. He hops out cradling a takeout bag in his arms. You eagerly greet him at the front door and rise up on your tiptoes to hug him. 

“How’s your day been?” He asks before stealing a kiss. 

The domesticity of the question makes your heart flutter. 

“It’s much better now. And yours?”

“I think I have to agree.” 

He takes your hand and starts to lead the both of you back to your desk.

“Oh, wait! Before I forget!” You flip the sign on the door to display the ‘closed’ side. “Okay, now we can eat.”

He laughs to himself while he starts to unpack the food he brought. It’s a sound that makes your knees weak. Turns out he got y’all sandwiches from a place by his work that he had been wanting you to try.

“I made sure that they didn’t put anything on it that you didn’t like.” He says sliding your meal over to you gingerly. “And I made sure that they put extra of what you love.”

For some reason, Frankie remembering something so small about you has you extremely turned on. You feel crazy for wanting to jump his bones over something as mundane as meat in between bread, but you can’t help it. Maybe it’s the fact that he did all this out of the kindness of his heart or maybe it’s the fact that he looks so excited for you to try it. Regardless, you need him right now.

“Have you-have you ever had a tour of the gym?” If you were any less horny, you would be embarrassed at how clearly you can hear the desperation in your voice. 

He looks slightly confused at your sudden topic change. “Sure. I mean we helped Benny furnish the place back when he bought it.” Your growing need for him must have been plastered across your face because realization settles over him. “But maybe you have something to show me?”

You hum in response and curl your finger at him to follow you back into the gym. Walking past the workout benches, the boxing ring, and the heavy bags you hold your breath. Frankie footsteps are quick and heavy behind yours as you make a beeline for the laundry room. You open the door to slip inside and feel yourself clench around nothing when he slams the door closed behind him. Faster than you can comprehend, Frankie grabs your arm and spins you around to face him. His lips are attacking yours in a crazed frenzy. Your senses are being drowned out by his heavy breathing and his hands hungrily roaming your body. As your arms wrap around his neck, his own circle your lower back and lift you off the ground. You can feel the burn of the cold metal against your thighs since you decided to dawn a tennis skirt this morning. The abrupt change in temperature causes you to breathe in quickly and you smile as he tugs at your lower lip. 

“Like what you see on my tour?” Your breaths are ragged as he has moved on to devour the side of your neck.

“Like is an understatement.”

He continues to kiss red marks on your skin, that you will inevitably have to cover up later, as you work at unfastening his belt and unzipping his jeans. When you achieve your goal, he helps finish the rest. Frankie steps back and pulls himself up and over his boxers. Your clit pulses at the sight. He skillfully flips the bottom of your skirt up to reveal the spandex shorts underneath and uses his left hand to move them and your panties to the side. Frankie's eyes illuminate at the glorious sight of you bare in front of him. Taking himself in his hand, he lines up at your soaking entrance, and fills you up in one motion.

“That’s my girl.” He moans into your ear. “Take me just like that.”

He starts moving once he knows you have adjusted to his size. His pace is firm and steady as he starts massaging your clit with his left thumb. Your head is just starting to roll back while you sink into this moment with Frankie, when an unmistakable sound rings out. Both of you freeze and lock eyes.

“Estrella…” You can tell it's killing him not to move while he’s buried in your cunt. “Was that the fucking door bell?”

“Maybe.” Your breath catches when he decides to thrust forward as if urging you to elaborate. “Didn’t lock the door. Thought the sign would be enough.”

You almost miss your name being called out from inside the gym because you’re too wrapped up in the way Frankie feels inside you. 

“Fuck. Let me,” You gasp. “Let me go see what he wants. Stay here.”

He groans, but concedes knowing that this is something you need to take care of so he can sink inside you again. Frankie pulls out and gently pulls your underwear and shorts back over. You stifle a laugh at the precarious situation that you currently find yourself in. Poking only your head outside the door, your eyes fall on the unwelcome intruder.

“Hey, Jacobs! Sorry I wasn’t at the door to check you in! I decided to do some deep cleaning in the laundry room today while Benny ran errands.” You pray that your flushed face isn’t a dead give away to what was just going on. 

“No worries!” He hollers back from where he's standing at the weights. “I was just a little freaked out to see the place so quiet. Usually Benny has it bumping in here.”

You sense him before you feel him. Frankie places his hands on the hem on your skirt and pulls it down past your ass. When he reveals what he's looking for, you feel him ghosting just outside your pussy. 

“Keep talking to him.” He quietly grunts while bottoming out. “Better act natural if you don’t want to get caught, baby. Wouldn’t want Jacobs to know that you’re getting fucked in public like a little slut, do you?”

Chills run down your arms and legs, littering your skin with goosebumps in their wake. Frankie has never called you that before, but you fucking like it.

“Yeah.” You struggle out, trying to ignore how much faster Frankie has started pumping now. “I decided to just play my music in here. Feel free to turn your earbuds up really loud. I wouldn’t want my bad singing to interrupt your- fuck- your workout!”

Frankie has snaked his hand around to the front of your skirt and slithered down to find your clit, catching you completely off guard. 

“Are you alright?” Jacobs asks earnestly, looking confused and taking a few steps towards the room you’re in.

“F-fine! I’m totally fine! The cleaning products I'm using just started to give me a migraine, but I turned on the vent. Problem solved.”

You don’t know how much longer you can keep this up for. This performance that you’re putting on isn’t going to win you an Oscar, but you’re hoping that it's sufficient enough to ward off Jacobs.

“Do you need any medicine or -?”

“That’s really sweet, but I’m all good. I already took some.” Your knees start to shake as your climax nears. Frankie isn’t helping the situation at all by lifting up the back of your shirt and kissing along your spine. “Also it's probably best if you steer clear of this side of the gym. I wouldn’t want the cleaning products to affect you too.”

“Right uhh okay. Sounds good.” He smiles weakly at you before waving. “Feel better.”

“Thanks!” You wince slightly as Frankie slides his hand under your bra and starts to tweak your nipple. “I’m starting to feel better already!”

You don’t think you have ever closed a door so fast in your entire life.

“I’m going to fucking kill you.” You huff, bracing yourself on the shut door.

Frankie, without pulling out, turns you to where you can now rest your upper body on the washing machine lid. You know he’s having too much fun messing with you.

“If you kill me, Estrella, how am I supposed to make you feel better?”

If you thought he was being merciless before, you were mistaken. He grips your hips tightly as he drills into you from behind. You bite down on your arm to silence the flow of moans and whimpers that escape you. Catching your thoughts drifting to the possibility of being heard, your walls contract around the man inside you. 

“Tell me what’s going on inside that beautiful mind of yours.” He says gruffly. 

“Getting caught.” You whine softly. 

“It’s turning you on? Fuck.” His hands cut deeper into your skin. “I know you liked what I said to you earlier. I saw your body react.” 

Another wave of chills encapsulates your body at the mere thought of it.

“You like getting fucked like the whore you were dressed as the other night?” Tears prick your eyes as the metaphorical rope twists tighter in your belly. It’s seconds away from snapping. “You like being a whore just for me, Estrella?” 

Your body answers for you, soaking him in your climax. He lowers his head and whispers sweet nothings into your ear while you see stars all around you. Your euphoria isn’t enough to make you forget to answer him.

“I love being a whore just for you. I’ll do anything you ask me too.”

With those words, you feel him coming hard. He moans lowly while his hip buck and you can feel him completely emptying himself. God, you could get addicted to that. When he pulls out, you brace yourself using the sides of the washing machine. He quickly finds a soft, freshly washed towel to clean you up with. Urgency doesn’t exist at this moment. You know that he enjoys the after just as much as the before.

“You know, the first time I saw you in the photo Benny has hanging in here, I was awestruck.” The two of you are now sitting together, backs against the washer and hands intertwined, on the laundry room floor. “He had completely left the room and I didn’t even notice because I was trying to wrap my head around how it was possible for this stranger to be that handsome.”

You look over at Frankie to see him smiling to himself and staring down at your joined hands. The apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears have adopted a soft pink hue. His shyness makes you remember that compliments were few and far between in his last relationship. You are going to make sure that he never goes unappreciated while he’s with you. You are going to make sure he knows how deserving he is to hear words like that.

“How crazy that in just a few months time, I would be holding that stranger's hand and sharing a bed with him on a regular basis. You make me feel like the luckiest woman in the world, do you know that? After some things that happened when I was younger, I didn’t think men like you existed.”

“What happened when you were younger?” His voice is cautious.

“I had this friend, a guy, that I would hang out with all the time when I was 19. One night, we were at his house drinking and watching a movie. I guess I drank a little more than I thought because the rest of the night comes in flashes.” You close your eyes and inhale sharply. “I remember laying on the couch and listening to the sound of the movie floating in and out of my ears. Then there are hands that I don’t want grabbing me, pulling at my clothes, and touching my hair. I could smell the-the tequila on his breath. It made my stomach twist in the most violent way. I ended up passing out before the worst of it. I don’t know what's worse: remembering or having no memory at all.” 

You open your eyes and turn your head to look at him. There was a part of you that was scared to see the emotions reflecting on his face. Would he look at you differently? Would he think of you as damaged goods? Some stupid girl who put herself in a compromising situation? Would he be afraid to touch you after this? Would he think of you as some small breakable object now that he knows the truth?

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I-”

“Estrella, it wasn’t your fault.” You close your eyes again because they sting with tears. “You were with someone you thought you could trust. You were doing something that you thought was safe. It wasn’t your fault. Everything, every single thing, is on him. He desecrated the friendship that you gave him. It doesn’t matter how much or how little you drank that night. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.” 

He grips your hand tighter and leans his head against yours. You listen to his breathing and use it to regulate your own. For the first time in your life you really let it sink in. The fact that it wasn’t your fault, that it wasn’t your doing. Robbie always told you that. She never once blamed you for it. You knew she was right when she said it, but some part of you simply refused to believe it. Holding onto the misplaced guilt was your way of protecting yourself or punishing yourself. But, now? Now that you actually said the words ‘I know’? You could feel your shoulders releasing a load that they were never meant to be carrying in the first place. The scars would still be there, yet now perhaps they could fade.

“It’s me who’s lucky.” He says after a while, bringing y’alls laced hands up to his lips and kissing the back of yours. “It’s not often that you’re given a second chance in life. It’s also not often that the second chance is this woman who’s compassionate, understanding, intelligent, loving, and beautiful.” As he lists each characteristic, he kisses the corresponding tips of your fingers. “When I first saw your photo,” He sighs, remembering back to that day. “I wanted to kiss you on the bridge of your nose. Right here. I couldn't shake the feeling that my lips would fit perfectly.”

You giggle faintly as he takes his free hand and pokes it at your nose after he wiped away your stray tears.

“Why don’t you test out your theory then?”

His velvety brown eyes are the last thing you see before you close your own. You feel him let go of your hand and then cup the sides of your face. His beard tickles your skin as he lowers his lips to his destination. You can’t help but echo his sigh when you feel him connect with the bridge of your nose. He was right, you think, it’s a perfect fit. The two of you are a perfect fit. You open your eyes when he slowly pulls away. He looks so at ease staring back at you. 

“What’s your conclusion?” You whisper.

“Just as I suspected,” He leans his forehead against yours. “It’s like it was made for me.”

***

You and Benny are almost done with y’alls nightly clean up. The only thing left to do is to take the dirty towels into the laundry room so you can run a load in the morning. The two of you chat easily as he opens the door for you since you’re carrying the dirty towel basket. When he doesn’t immediately move out of the doorway, you lightly bump the basket into his back.

“Earth to Benny. This thing is getting heavy and I would like to set it down now.”

He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder and gives you a devilish grin. Bumping the door the rest of the way open with his hip, he leans down and picks something up off the ground. 

“Isn’t this strange?” He says, turning to face you fully. “What would Fish’s cap be doin’ in our laundry room?”

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. They seem to be permanently stuck in an ‘o’ position.

“Are you goin’ to tell me what went down while I was gone?” His shit eating grin has somehow managed to get bigger.

“Are you going to tell me what ‘operation catch-a-fish’ was?” You ask smugly, finally finding your voice.

Benny opens his mouth to combat your question, but just laughs instead. “Looks like both of our lips are sealed then.”

“Perhaps you could unseal yours for another question?” You push past him and set down what you were carrying. “It’s about Will.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re leaving Catfish for my brother.”

“No, you asshat!” You pop him in the arm as he laughs again. “I want to set him up with Robbie.”

“Ahhhh I see. You want to play matchmaker.” 

“I want him to be happy. I think he and Robbie would really hit it off too. She’s coming down in a few weeks and I want to start planting the seed in that vast mind of his. I just wasn’t sure how he feels about dating right now and was hoping you would.”

A bittersweet look washes over Benny’s face at your confession. You can tell that he wants to tell you something, but he’s stopping himself. 

“You’re going to tell me to ask him in person, aren’t you?”

He smiles weakly and motions to leave the laundry room, making sure to take Frankie’s hat with him. “Just like I told you with Fish, it’s not my place to get into all of Will’s business. Between you and me, I think he’s lonely, but he would never admit it. I’m personally onboard with hookin’ him up with your friend, but just talk to him. He and the rest of the guys are on their way here to meet me at the bar right now.”

After doing a final sweep of the place, the two of y’all grab your things and lock up. Sure enough the guys are all leaning against the bed of Frankie’s truck waiting. 

“Hola, hermosa!” Pope pulls you in for a bear hug as soon as you approach them.

“Hi, Santi!” You hug him back with just as much force. “Believe it or not, I’ve missed you this week.”

“Who wouldn’t miss me?” He asks playfully as you pull away.

“Stop hogging her, Pope.” Frankie nudges his friend out of the way so he can hug you. “Long time no see, Estrella.” 

“Yeah, speakin’ of ‘long time no see’, Fish.” Benny produces the left behind cap and tosses it over. “Next time you sneak over, it’s probably best that you don’t leave a callin’ card, hm?” His voice is mischievous.

“Oh I- I just came by to drop off lunch and-”

“Save it, lover boy.” He winks at him.

Even under the dim street lights, you can see that Frankie’s cheeks have adopted a soft blush. You kiss his shoulder before turning your attention to the man you have been meaning to speak too.

“Howdy, Will.” You speak bashfully as he pulls you into him.

“Saved the best for last. I knew I liked you, hon.” 

“Come on! Let’s go get some fuckin’ drinks!” Benny says, throwing his arm around Pope’s shoulder. “It’s been a day!”

“You filled out paperwork at the police station for the majority of the day, you big baby.” You counter.

The rest of the group clearly wasn’t privy to Benny’s plans today by the quizzical look on all of their faces. 

“Calm down. I was goin’ to fill y’all in tonight at the bar. The quicker we get there, the quicker y’all get to hear. So, let's get a move on.”

Benny, Pope, and Will all start walking while Frankie holds an outstretched hand for you to take hold of. You want to make sure you talk to Will before either of y’all are slurring your words, so you quietly, but quickly fill Frankie in on your plan for Robbie and Will. He seems to have the same reaction as Benny did. Concern mixed with approval. Frankie volunteers to go into The Barrel with Pope and Benny so you can talk to Will without having an audience. 

“Will? Can you stay out here for a second?” 

He is holding the door open for you after letting the other men into the establishment.

“What’s on your mind, doll?” 

“I wanted to ask you about your stance on dating right now. My friend, Robbie, is coming down to visit me in a few weeks and I think you would really like her. I was hoping that you would let me set you up with her, but I wanted to see what you thought about that before I got ahead of myself.”

He puts his hands on his hips and lets out a low whistle.

“I haven’t taken much of a shine to datin’ since my fiancée left me a while back.” 

You feel like you just got the wind knocked out of you. “You were engaged?! I didn’t know that.”

“Once upon a time I was, yeah.” He holds up his wedding ring ringer. “Never made it to the aisle though.”

“Can I ask what happened? Or do you not want to talk about it?”

“I don’t mind sharin’ with you.” He scratches the back of his neck. “It just might change the way you see me though.” 

“I’d never judge you, Will.” You say sincerely.

“About five or six years ago, when I was on leave, I found myself standin’ in the middle of the cereal aisle at the Publix with my arm around some guys throat.” He takes a deep breath. “I was squeezin’ so hard he pissed himself. My fiancée at the time had to climb on my back just so I didn’t actually kill the guy. Do you know why I was doin’ this?”

You shake your head at him.

“Because he hadn’t moved his cart when I asked.” He rubs his eye briefly. “I flipped out on some poor innocent bastard because he was stoppin’ me from gettin’ some goddamn cereal.”  

“Will, that’s not your fault. It was an involuntary reaction.”

“But it was. I put his life, my fiancée’s life, and that entire store full of people’s lives in danger because I shut down and just reacted like I was trained to do. I loved what I did to serve my country, but I didn’t realize at the time how committin’ acts of extreme violence on other human beings would affect me biologically.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” You long for a phrase that can convey the true depth of your sorrow for what he went through. “I’m so sorry, Will.”

“I’ll be honest with you, I want to start datin’ again, but I guess I can’t bring myself too. I don’t want to hurt another woman the way I hurt my fiancée.”

You take his hand in yours. “The work you do with and for all the other vets has given you the tools to effectively navigate the trauma and PTSD you have from the military. I know that it never really goes away, but what matters is that you're trying to work through it. Everyday I’m sure something happens that triggers you or takes you back to moments that you would rather not relive. I wish to God that I could take that pain away from you, Will, but I know I can’t. What I can do is support you and I’m always going to do that. I trust you no matter what.”

He doesn’t say a word as he pulls you in for a bone crushing hug. You wrap your arms around him and hope he can feel how much you truly care about him through your touch. The two of you stay embracing for a few minutes until you feel him let out a heavy sigh and let go. 

“So,” He says, opening the bar's door once again. “Tell me about this friend of yours.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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I can't fix him, however I could give him a kiss (a series)

(I have to put Nathan and Joel twice because well just look at them)

😚

A Bahamas Bet

Frankie Morales fanfiction x f! reader

Summary: Going on vacation to the Bahamas with your friends could only call for sun, fun and a sweet vacation hookup. Nothing could ruin your enjoyable time, not even your childhood friend’s obnoxious army buddy, Frankie Morales. Right?

Original characters- Wendy (Will), Blaire (Benny), Sofia (Santi)

Two-part series warnings and info: 18+ Minors DNI, enemies to lovers, one bed left at the inn trope, alternating povs, Frankie doesn’t have a child, brief mention of therapy, reader nickname Birdie, alcohol, smut, protected p in v, hat stays ON, oral f receiving, swearing

Part 1 Word Count: 8k

Part 1

Thursday

Your eyes burn by the sudden brightness of the sun as you step out of the airport lobby. Throwing your hand over top of them so you can peer out and take in the surroundings. A beautiful tropical escape calls for you as you pull the strap on your backpack tighter and step in line with your group.

A fun in the sun friend trip to a Bahamas resort. What could go wrong? You were accompanied by your childhood friends Will and Benny, Will’s wife Wendy and Benny’s girlfriend Blaire. As well as their friend Santi, Santi’s girlfriend Sofia and their other friend. Upon their discharge from the army, they and their two friends settled right back into your hometown in North Carolina. Santi, who became a trusted brother-like figure, was equally as lovely as his girlfriend Sofia whom you introduced him to upon moving to your humble abode. She was a distant friend of yours from high school who you happened to reconnect with all these years later and they fell head over heels for one another the first time they met.

Their other friend, Frankie, was not someone you were looking forward to spending a long weekend with. While the rest of the group felt like a found family, Frankie did not. He was stubborn, rude, and was just, let’s be honest, a fucking dick to you since you met. You have asked Benny and Will countless times why they attached themselves to someone like him and every time you get the same answer, “You just don’t know him like we do, there’s more to him, give him a chance,” blah blah blah. You would absolutely give him a chance if every time you spoke his face didn’t ooze with annoyance. 

Frankie dickhead or fishhead or whatever they call him aside, you were determined to enjoy your weekend and maybe even have a vacation fling. Why not right? Getting drunk and messing around with a cute guy would surely distract your single heart from the painfully in love people you choose to spend your time with.

The group locates the shuttle from the airport to the resort and quickly haul your bags in. Each couple taking a bench together while you and Frankie take your decidedly separate benches on opposite sides of the bus.

Sofia turns in her seat to catch your attention from your phone, “I can’t wait to see the resort, and check out the excursions. There’s supposed to be a really romantic waterfall nearby that I wanna take this guy to if he’ll let me. They say it’s for lovers.” She says with a wink, nudging Santi’s shoulder.

This earned a cheeky smile from Santi, “I’ll take you wherever you want baby.”

You roll your eyes at the lovesick display in front of you with a grin and return to your phone. You can hear Frankie and Benny talking across the bus and even just his voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Thankfully this is a huge resort and the proximity you will be required to keep with him will be a few miles at most.

Everyone eagerly hops off the bus and bound towards the resort entrance to check in. Each couple steps in line together to get their room keys. You stand at the back of the line scanning the hotel lobby intently, when Frankie slides in the space between you and Will. You shake your head and grunt out an “Excuse you.” With an eye roll.

Frankie swiftly turns his head towards you with a grin, “Sorry did you say something?” His smug look amplified with his quick tap of his ear just below his stupid Standard Heating Oil hat that was seemingly glued to his head.

Shaking your head in annoyance you reply, “Isn’t it ladies first?”

He pulls his lips tight and squints, “Uh, sometimes but last I checked I don’t really see a lady here.” His cheeky smile earns nothing more than a huff from you as you fold your arms and ignore him once again.

The 3 couples complete their check ins and Frankie saunters up to the counter. You follow a few steps behind.

The clerk checks her computer and turns back to Frankie, “Yes, Mr. Morales. Will you and your significant other be needing two keys or one?”

He looks at her perplexed, “Uh, no it’s just me.”

She checks her screen again, “No, I have you and another guest in the same room.” She says your name and you perk up from behind Frankie’s broad body.

Frankie stands confused as you push forward and shove him slightly out of the way. “No, we booked 5 rooms. He and I each have our own.” you state matter-of-factly.

The clerk wrings her hands together nervously, “I’m sorry miss but the rooms were booked by Mr. Garcia and the reservation is only for 4 rooms, and unfortunately, we are booked solid right now.”

Your eyes widened and mouth slacked as you pieced together the puzzle. “So, what you’re say is, we-,” gesturing to you and Frankie’s stunned expression, “have to share one room…all weekend.”

She nods shyly, “Yes, I am so sorry, but I can throw in a complimentary beverage package for the inconvenience. I do just need a credit card for the room though.”

Frankie looks at you and you roll your eyes, whipping out your wallet and handing it over. “You’re gonna pay me back half.” You say sternly as he pulls his lips tight.

The clerk runs your card and offers an unnecessarily pleasant smile to you while placing the room cards and resort maps on the counter. Dumbfounded, you and Frankie both take your packages and turn to the group whose worry lines were greater than the waves crashing on the beach behind you.

Both of your faces turn to Santi and he sucks his teeth, “Uh, sorry about that guys I guess I didn’t double check the booking. Must’ve made a mistake.”

You look to the group, “Okay so who’s gonna switch with one of us because this is NOT happening.” You declare.

“Soooo, not happening.” Frankie confirms.

They look at each other in desperation for one of them to volunteer, but to no avail they all remain silent. Will pulls his lips into a thin line, “Look guys, I know it’s not ideal, but it’s just a long weekend. You can manage.”

Blaire comments, “Yeah, we won’t even be spending any time in the rooms anyway, we’ll be too busy. You’ll only be in the room at-,”

“Night, yeah that’s kind of my biggest problem here.” You interject, running a distressed hand through your hair. “Come on, one of the guys can bunk with Frankie and I’ll go with their girl.”

Benny shakes his head, “Birdie, hate to break it to you, but none of us are giving up sex all weekend to change rooms with you.” The couples all nod along in agreement as Frankie taps his knuckle against the room card in his hand that feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. “I’m sure you guys can manage to not rip each other apart for a few days for the sake of the trip, right?” He continues.

Sofia looks up at the ceiling of the grand lobby and mutters under her breath, “Or maybe ripping each other apart is exactly what they need to do.” She smirks at Santi who suppresses a chuckle.

Both pulling their humorous demeanor flat when your stern eyes burn into them, “Not funny, or helpful.”

Santi steps inward, “It’ll be fine guys, okay? Let’s just go to our rooms, get settled and meet back here in half an hour to start exploring alright?”

Everyone gives a meek nod and follows Santi’s lead towards the elevators. You grab your luggage handle and look up at Frankie who gives you a tight face, “After you, roomie.”

Thankfully, you were all still in the same hallway so you could have a quick escape from your hellish roommate situation if need be.

Stopping in front of your room, you pull the swipe card out of your pocket and slide it in. The green light flashes and you push forward into your jail cell for the weekend.

Both of your mouths drop as you discover the thing that neither of you had even considered.

One. Fucking. Bed.

Dropping your luggage, you step towards the large bed in the middle of the tropically decorated room, “No, no, no, are you fucking kidding me?” You ask the world, as your hands come to your face. Turning in your spot you see Frankie standing there with a smug grin on his face, suppressing a giggle.

“You think this is funny? Sharing a bed all weekend. With someone you hate.” You ask through grit teeth.

He steps forward, “No, but I think your reaction to sharing a bed with someone you hate all weekend is pretty funny.”

“Hah, well laugh it up army boy, you’re sleeping on the floor or in the tub.”

He scoffs and pushes past you to throw his lean body on the king-sized bed, resting his arm underneath his head, “Not happening pigeon, I paid for a bed, and I am using a bed. If you don’t think you can control yourself sharing with me, then you’ll be the one on the floor.”

Taking a deep inhale you reply, “First, it’s Birdie, which is rich coming from someone who’s nickname is literally Fish, and if you think I can’t control myself around you, you’re more delusional than I thought.” You say, sauntering over to the bed and tossing yourself down on the other side with a cross of your arms.

Rolling onto his side to look at you, he grins, “Please, I see the way you look at me.”

“Like my lunch is gonna come hurling through my mouth?” You say, refusing to meet his eyes.

“No, like you want me.” He says with a wink.

Your face finally turns on the pillow, “Me? Want you? To fall off a cliff maybe.”

He chuckles, “You’re funny when you’re flirting.”

Your whole-body rolls with your eyes as you pull yourself off the bed and onto the palm tree leaf patterned carpet. “If anyone is gonna have a hard time keeping their hands to themselves, it’s you.”

Leaning on his elbow to raise himself up, “Alright, I’ve got a bet for you. First one to make a move loses.” He says with a shit eating grin on his face.

You bite your lip with intrigue, “What does the winner get?”

He hums to himself for a moment, “Are bragging rights not enough?”

“No, no it’s really not. Whoever loses, pays for the room.” You say, crossing your arms and smirking at your prospect of a free vacation.

Frankie squints and looks around the room for a beat before turning back and replying, “Deal.” He raises his hand, and you step in to shake it.

Giggling, you comment, “Hope you’re looking forward to the bluest balls you’ve had since high school Morales.”

“Oh please, everyone knows I got laid in high school.” He grins and rolls off the bed.

The two of you unpack quietly while he offers you countless eyebrow raises and air kisses, to which you swiftly brush past, doing your best to ignore the slight heat coming from your gut and your sudden need to breathe out of your nose.

A fun in the sun friend trip to a Bahamas resort. What could go wrong?

After hours of exploring the resort and dinner, the group finds themselves in one of the resort bars. The guy’s crowd around the bar tv to watch whatever sporting event they were missing back home after bribing the bartender to change the channel.

You and the girls relax at a table sipping your fruity cocktails and taking in the guests enjoying the dance floor.

Wendy leans into the group, “Soo, how’d it go with Frankie in the room?”

You take a long sip from your drink before answering, “Oh get this. HE thinks I want him. HE thinks I can’t go all weekend sharing a room with him without catching feelings or making a move. Can you believe him?”

The girls look at one another with a thought that you were seemingly excluded from. “What?” You ask, perplexed.

Sofia shifts in her seat, “It’s just, to be honest none of us can really believe the two of you haven’t gotten together already.”

Your eyebrows crease, “Why on earth would I wanna get with Frankie?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know, you two just seem to have this chemistry. We thought the weird anger you both held towards each other would have run its course by now and you would see that you’re, well, you’re kind of perfect for each other.”

Sputtering on your drink you can’t believe your ears, “Seriously, him and I? Perfect for each other? The same way that a lighter is perfect for dynamite maybe. He actually made a bet with me who would fold first. Can you believe him? Well, he’s got another thing coming.” You say into your drink, staring at the back of his head with a plan plotting behind your eyes.

Blaire laughs, “But what about your plan to get laid this weekend?”

“Oh, I’m doing that too. I have all weekend to mess with Frankie AND find a guy to have a vacation romance with. Maybe even go to that waterfall with. Don’t you worry about me.” You say with a wink.

Little did you know, the guys were having a similar conversation just across the bar.

Frankie continues, “So we made a bet who could make it the longest without making a move on the other one. Whoever loses pays for the whole room, I think I’ll get a seadoo with the money I get back.” he says, shoveling peanuts into his mouth.

Santi laughs and holds his beer close to his mouth, “So you’re definitely hooking up this weekend then?”

He shrugs, “Why would you say that?”

“You just said who could make it the longest, not who could make it the whole weekend without trying something. Let me ask you something man, if she genuinely tried to hook up with you, would you stop it and accept your win? Or would you do it?” He asks and takes a long sip from his drink.

Will and Benny turn towards Frankie and await his answer. The answer Frankie wishes he had. He drums his fingers on the wood bar top for a moment, “Uh, I don’t, - I didn’t think about it, I guess. I know you guys have known her since you were like, 6 but have either of you, ever, you know?” He asks Benny and Will with confusion in his eyes.

The brothers look to one and another and back to Frankie before Benny replies, “Her and I messed around a bit when we were teenagers, but we never slept together. Just kids figuring things out. That is about the time our parents realized we were a tad bit too old for slumber parties though.” He says with a laugh.

Will nods, “Nah, we’ve never. Just see her like a sister I guess.”

Frankie accepts their answers and continues his thoughts. What would he do if he found himself in that situation. Would he shut it down? Would he go with it? Shaking his head and returning his focus to the game, he reminded himself he can’t be having thoughts like that. He had a bet to win after all.

Saying goodnight to your friends, you stumble into the hotel room with Frankie sliding behind you. The buzz you had given yourself was keeping your spirits high at the thought of what you can do with this weekend. As you start collecting your pjs to retreat to the bathroom with, Frankie rounds his side of the bed and quickly starts undressing right down to his boxers. You throw your hand up to shield your eyes from the sight, “Whoa whoa keep your fucking pants on.”

He shrugs and climbs into the bed, “I sleep in my boxers at home, I’m gonna do it here. Unless, you know, this is too tempting for you.” He says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Dropping your hand you offer him an annoyed look, “Hardly.” You say before heading to the bathroom.

When you return with your clean face, hair pulled into a bun and your fresh pjs on, you crawl into the other side of the bed.

Frankie stares at you, “Wow, really making it hard for me huh ostrich?”

All that you can muster at the late hour is a swift flip of your middle finger and then you turn on your side, facing away from him. Without so much as a goodnight, you drift to sleep to the sound of his deep breathing.

Friday

Your body feels heavy as you slowly wake up, as if something is weighing you down into the mattress. Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the light peeking through the blue curtains of the room. Still laying on your side, you slowly turn your head to find the source of your discomfort. Frankie’s limp body clung to you while his morning breath penetrates your nostrils. His bare chest warms your back and his thick arms wrap around your waist holding you in place. Giving a huff you use your arm to shove him off you. He rolls onto his back and startles awake, “What, what happened?” he asks, looking around for the cause of his abrupt waking. His curly brown locks thrown about in an admittedly cute way.

“You were literally sleeping on me. If I weren’t such a nice person, I’d count that as making a move considering how close your hand was to my tits.” You answer as you crawl out of bed and towards the bathroom.

A meek “Fuck off” is all Frankie is capable of verbalizing in his sleepy state as he lays back down in the bed, pulling his pillow over his head to shield himself from the rays breaking through the thin curtains.

You look in the mirror at your tired appearance. Pulling at the skin on your cheeks you remind yourself of your prerogative for the weekend. Free room, hot date. Is what you needed to prepare yourself for as you start the shower to prep yourself for the day.

Frankie’s incessant knocking comes 45 minutes later with a “Hurry the fuck up.” and “How long do you need in there?”

With hair and makeup perfect and a freshly shaved body you look at your naked self in the mirror and smile. These men were not gonna stand a chance with you. You grab the towel you had used to dry yourself and wrap if around your body, curling the top a few too many times so the hem sits just below your ass and the top providing an added amount of cleavage to complete the look.

Opening the door, you are met with a disheveled Frankie leaning with one hand on the door frame and an unamused look. He has thankfully put on pajama pants, but his tan chest still stuck out at you like a bright sign on the interstate. He opens his mouth to speak before taking in your appearance as you strut past him. He watches as you return to your suitcase and start pulling various clothing options out.

He looks at the bathroom and then back at you, and then back again before commenting, “I see what you’re doing.”

You look over your shoulder with a flip of your hair, “What am I doing Frankie?”

He grits his teeth, “You think you can saunter around here in next to nothing and because I’m just a guy who thinks with his dick, I’ll fall for it. Well, it’s not gonna work missy. I’m stronger than that.” He says with a finger point. His voice only cracking once during his speech, which brings you utter amusement and him a sense of embarrassment.

“Aw I’m sure you are sweetie.” You say with a bite of your plump lip before turning back to your suitcase, reaching a little farther than you need to so the hem of the towel raises just enough to reveal the swell of your ass.

Frankie’s eyes widen at your tease and quickly stumbles into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

When he reappears, you are dressed in a tank top, tennis skirt and running shoes. He chews the inside of his cheek taking in your little skirt and pushes past you to readjust himself before you can notice.

“What’s on the agenda for the today?” he asks, trying to be as casual as possible.

You check your phone, which has a text thread of all the activities you and the girls had put together for the weekend. “Uh, we’ll go meet up for brunch and then we’re going on an ATV tour of the island. Sounds pretty cool.” You say nodding. “I’m all ready so I’m gonna head down there.” You say before swinging your backpack onto your shoulder and walking out the door.

Benny and Will are already seated at a table when you arrive, so you greet them brightly before getting your food from the buffet. Upon returning you find yourself at the end of a pointed arrow or should you say look from the pair.

“What?” You ask, shoveling your scrambled eggs into your mouth.

Benny takes a deep breath, “Frankie told us about this bet of yours.”

Your eyebrows pop up, “Did he now?” You ask, mouth still full of eggs.

Will nods, “Do you know what you’re doing here? With him.”

Waving his worries aside with your hand you respond, “Guys seriously, it’s no big deal. Nothing, and I mean nothing is gonna happen between Frankie and I this weekend. A little teasing and annoyance are all that is gonna occur. You should be happy we’re getting along well enough for this bet. If anything, I think we’re fighting less.” You shrug.

The brothers look at each other and offer meek smiles. Their other halves suddenly appear and take their seats.

Blaire offers Benny a loving kiss before turning her attention to you, “So, how was your first night with Frankie?” she asks, clearly loving the drama of it all.

You roll your eyes with a laugh, “I wake up and his face is literally right behind me just breathing all over me. It was disgusting. And then he was pounding on the bathroom door while I was trying to get ready like an animal.”

They all laugh as Santi, Sofia and Frankie come into the dining area to collect their meals from the buffet.

Once everyone is fed and you are overall annoyed with Frankie’s version of your first night together, you all depart to the front of the resort for the ATV tour. The tour guide shows you to the parked ATV’s near the entrance. 5 in total, 1 for him and 4 for you. Only 4 for the group. Huh, you look at the guide and said, “Actually we need 5 ATV’s, I’m not sharing one with him.” You say, gesturing to your roommate.

The guide apologizes, “I’m sorry ma’am but we only have these ones available right now, the rest are booked.”

“What is with this fucking resort, okay fine, let’s just go.” You say in a huff, not wanting to take up any more of your friend’s time with your exasperation over the scheduling of this place.

Frankie takes a helmet off the seat and passes you the other, which you accept begrudgingly.

He slides onto the ATV and revs the engine. You secure your helmet and climb onto the back of the vehicle, holding onto the sides.

Frankie looks over his shoulder at you, “Hey, goose, you’re gonna have to hold onto me you know. I’m not stopping to pick your sorry ass back up when you go flying off.”

Taking a deep breath in your nose you inch forward on the seat until you’re flush with his back, wrapping your arms coyly around his stomach and latching your fingers together. His stomach feels soft and his back is warm against your chest. It could almost be a cozy position to be in if it were anyone else. You try to compose yourself from the slight tingling that has arose in your stomach and place your chin on his shoulder, “If you crash this thing I’ll kill you.”

He chuckles, “Baby if I crash this thing we’ll both be dead so it won’t really matter now will it?”

Baby? Yeah okay, get over yourself buddy. “I’ll find a way to kill you again. And I’m not your baby by the way.”

A grin spreads across his face at your annoyance, “Whatever you say.” He says before taking off behind the rest of the group.

Your bodies bumped against one another the entire ride and the bumps from the road did little to help your core which was already struggling to stay calm with your arms wrapped around Frankie’s firm physique. The sleeves of his t-shirt were stretched tight on his biceps and his curls wrapped up under the brim of the helmet. You did your best to ignore the smell of his cologne and focus on the stunning landscape of the island. The waves crashing onto the beach as you ride on the sand was like a scene out of a rom com. You peer over Frankie’s shoulder at the rest of your friends. All the happy couples snuggling and taking in the scenic view. You haven’t been in a relationship in so long and your heart ached for that sense of comfort and passion that they all held. A vacation fling was all you could manage right now, but you think that you should really start trying to find that special person to spend your Sunday nights watching The Last of Us with.

The group returns back to the resort and you clammer off the back of the ATV and remove your helmet. Frankie leans into you with a sly look on his face, “Did you enjoy the ride? Could’ve sworn I felt your hands venturing a little farther than they should have. If I weren’t such a nice person, I might count that as making a move.”

Rolling your eyes you reply, “In your dreams fish head.” Before thrusting your helmet into his chest and turning to join your friends.

Standing in the lobby of the hotel, the couples all decide they are going to go back to the rooms and take naps as the mid-day heat has worn them all out. Hanging out for 2 hours in the room with Frankie is not how you intended to spend your afternoon, so you bid your farewells and head to the outdoor bar to sip from your complimentary package and read your book alone.

Not 2 paragraphs in and you hear the screeching of the chair across from you pull out. Lifting your head from your book you huff at the sudden intrusion of none other than Frankie fucking Morales.

“I was actually planning on being alone.” You say sternly, folding your book in your lap and taking a long sip from your entirely too sugary drink.

He drums his hands on the table, “Don’t you get enough of that at home? I thought you’d like the company from your handsome and charming roommate.”

You grin sarcastically, “Well if I had one, I would certainly enjoy that. Unfortunately, that is not the case. Also, you’re one to talk calling me lonely. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a girl on your arm longer than a night since you moved.” Crossing your arms you look him up and down and raise a brow with your statement.

He huffs a breath out his nose and pulls his sunglasses off his face to fiddle with them in his hands. “Just haven’t found the right girl yet I guess. We’re not all lucky like Will who met his wife when he was 18.”

“Yeah, I remember when they met. He was so giddy; it drove Benny nuts. Him spending all his time with her and not his little brother.” you comment, reminiscing on the memories.

“What was it like growing up with them?” he asks intently.

You were slightly thrown off by his sudden interest in your life. The Frankie you knew typically dismissed everything you said with a grimace. Maybe vacation Frankie was a little softer, so you oblige. “It was actually really fun. They’re such great guys and since I was an only child, it was nice having them across the road. Never felt like a burden, or like I annoyed them.” You say, peering up at him pointedly over your sunglasses.

He smirks and takes a sip from his beer.

“Why do you always treat me like that?” You ask with a quiet voice.

Looking back up at you he leans forward against the table, “Like what?”

“Like I’m annoying. I get along great with Santi, but not you.”

Frankie clears his throat and passes his sunglasses back and forth between his hands. “You’re like Benny and Will’s kid sister, how I’m supposed to treat you.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh that’s bullshit. You do not treat me as rudely as you do simply because you see me as some annoying little sister of your friends who always wants to play x-box with you guys and eats your candy.”

He chuckles, “I don’t know what to tell you, duck.”

Throwing your hands up in exasperation you laugh, “Seriously, like that. How much effort do you put in just to not call me by my real nickname. I feel like you had to buy a bird book, so you’d have enough to switch between.”

Matching your laugh, he smiles back at you, “I mean I might’ve taken a peek at a book my mom had from her bird watching days.”

Laughing with Frankie felt easy, you almost forget all the snarky remarks he’s made to you these last few years.

He hums to himself, and stands, “Um, I think I’ve interrupted your reading time enough, so I think I’ll go back to the room and get a quick nap in.”

You nod and wave him off. Finally, returning to your book. Rereading the same sentence four times before realizing you were held up rethinking the conversation you just had. Not being able to imagine the scene laid out before you on the page as you couldn’t get your mind off the way Frankie’s shirt was open at the top, revealing a small view of his strong chest. Taking a deep breath, you figure it’s no use working on your book. Maybe a walk on the beach would be a better way to spend your time as you wait for dinner.

Creeping into the room as quietly as possible you spot Frankie still asleep in the bed. The small act of kindness he had shown you this afternoon had made you look at his sleeping state with a warmer heart than normal. It’d be nice to be a good roommate and not wake him, so you retreat to the bathroom right away, not even sliding off your sandals or putting your bag down to begin getting ready for dinner, starting with a nice relaxing bubble bath.

30 minutes later Frankie stirs in the bed and sleepily pulls his head up off the pillow to rub his face in his hands. He had been asleep far longer than he thought he would he thought to himself as he checked the time on his watch. Looking around the room he notices your apparent absence, assuming you are still out enjoying your alone time. He slinks out of the bed, only in his boxers and heads to the bathroom to freshen up in the shower.

After sufficiently soothing your tired sun kissed skin in a long bubble bath, you put your phone down on the floor to pull yourself out of the tub.

Just as you step out of the tub, your body dripping wet and covered in bubbly suds, the door swings open and your eyes widen as Frankie’s eyes suddenly catch yours. You, stood completely naked covered in bubbles, and him, with his boxers halfway down his thighs as he was pulling them off.

Both of your eyes trail the others bare body as you jump in your skin, quickly grabbing a towel off the counter and throwing it over yourself. Frankie nearly falling over as he fumbles to pull his boxers back up.

Your mouth gaps as you yell, “What the fuck Frankie?”

He steadies himself, putting a hand on the door frame, “What? I thought you were still out!”

“Well obviously I’m not! I’ve been back for like half an hour.” You state, working to secure the towel around you without flashing anymore of yourself than you already have.

“Well why didn’t you wake me up?” he asks with distress in his voice, his curly brown locks still tousled from his nap.

“I was trying to be nice and not wake you up. How was I supposed to know you were just going to barge in here?”

“Why not lock the damn door then?” he asks, tapping his knuckles against the open door beside him.

You take a deep breath in and out of your nose, trying to calm yourself down and ridding yourself of the mental picture of Frankie’s flaccid but admittedly still large cock. “Can you please, just close the door. I’ll be out in a minute, and you can a shower and then I’ll come back in to finish getting ready for dinner.” You cross your arms and try not to meet his gaze.

With a meek and embarrassed voice, he says fine, and closes the door as he turns in his spot.

Your hands fall to the countertop immediately, trying to compose yourself. That was either the most humiliating thing that’s ever happened to you or the sexiest. You couldn’t ignore the humming coming from your core as you imagine him again. Looking up in the mirror you map your face. How are you going to go the rest of the weekend now that Frankie fucking Morales has seen you naked?

Frankie and you get ready for dinner in utter silence. You come out of the bathroom fully clothed and in an A-line dress with a bright pattern that has a neckline that falls to just below your sternum. If you had actually been making eye contact with him you would’ve noticed the way his breath hitched and his eyes raked over your body, taking in every sexy curve. You would’ve seen the way his eyes glossed over as he thought about your plush breasts covered in bubbles and way your thighs looked shimmering with water.

You walk into the hallway to find Wendy and Will waiting for the group to head down to dinner, Frankie following closely behind you in a Hawaiian themed shirt and green shorts. You immediately pull Wendy in for a chat, actively avoiding her questions about how you and Frankie spent the afternoon while you waited for the rest of your friends.

The group seats for dinner, unfortunately for you, you are seated right across the table from Frankie. His face looking equally as bashful, and his ears turn a certain shade of pink as you quickly make eye contact before abruptly turning your attention to literally anybody else who would talk to you.

The overall energy of the evening was off, everyone could tell. The way you and Frankie drank from your drinks when the other was speaking or would look intently at the ceiling for an unexplainable reason.

Santi finally leans into the table after another awkward moment where one of you was too busy avoiding the other to actually provide your attention to the group. “You two have been acting weird all night. What’s up?”

Slightly choking on your drink, you and Frankie reply at the same time.

“Nothing.” You both say before making a wide-eyed gaze at him from above your glass perched comfortably in your hand.

Santi chuckles and looks to the group, “Wow, that was convincing am I right guys?”

They all laugh to themselves and offer you pointed looks.

Clearing his throat Frankie offers up, “Don’t know what you guys are talking about, emu and I are talking about as much as we normally do.” he says with a slight laugh under his breath.

Will interjects, “We know you guys don’t talk, but you also don’t sit there as quiet as church mice. What happened?”

“Ouu did you two fuck?” Bennys laughs.

Your eyes bug out of your head and Blaire offers him a swift strike to his stomach.

“Fuck sakes, Benny no of course not I’d rather roll off the back of one of those damn ATVs.” You say with disgust written all over your face, a convincing mask.

Your quick dismissal has Frankie narrowing his eyes and finally staring at you, “Really? Road burn would be better than sleeping with me? Because, if I think about it enough, maybe you left the door unlocked on purpose.”

Your jaw drops at his accusation, “Seriously? You think I would leave the door unlocked just for you? Well, maybe you did know I was back, and you played it off as an accident, so you could get a peak.”

“Oh yeah, I faked being asleep for 2 hours so I could sneak up on you, yeah okay. I saw the way you looked at me by the way so don’t even start with that shit.” He exclaims, hands on the table and pressed forward.

Letting out a huffed laugh you retort, “How I was looking at you? Speak for yourself I can’t believe you were able to get your jaw off the ground after the way you looked at me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself sweetheart, any shock on my face was purely from the situation not from what you’ve got going on over there.” He says, crossing his arms firmly on his chest.

You chew your bottom lip and look up at the ceiling, steam surely piling out of your ears.

Everyone else at the table sits still, eyes wide and jaws slack after watching the display you and Frankie have just put on. They look to one another before Sofia waves her hands in the air to track her thought process, “So, wait, what happened?”

Rolling your eyes you reply coldly, “Frankie went back to the room to take a nap, I came back and as I was trying to be a good roommate for the sake of the trip, decided not to disturb him and went to the bathroom to take a bath. He walked in on me when I was getting out of the tub and he was-,” You pinch the brim of your nose to collect your thoughts, “and he was pulling his boxers down to take a shower. I didn’t know he was awake, and he didn’t know I was back. So, he says at least.”

“Lock. The. Damn. Door.” Frankie states through gritted teeth.

Blaire perks up in her seat, “Wait, so, you two saw each other naked? That’s hilarious.”

To your dismay they all come together in a laugh that makes you roll your neck on your shoulders before returning to your drink.

Seeing your discomfort Will settles the group, “Okay guys, let’s all calm down here. It’s no big deal. Hey, raise your hand if you’ve seen Fish naked.” He says before raising his hand prominently in the air. Santi and Benny offer their hands up as well. Benny gives you a glare, to which you begrudgingly oblige and raise your hand above the table from its settled position on your lap with a roll of your eyes.

Will smiles, “Okay now who’s seen Birdie?”

Sofia and Wendy raise their hands, having spent a drunken weekend together last summer where you all partook in skinny dipping in the rental houses pool. Frankie shrugs and raises his hand from his side. Bennys hand creeps up from below the table and everyone turns to look at him with confused eyes.

“Benny I was like 16, looks a lot different now.” You state gesturing to your body, declaring it doesn’t count and he shrugs before pulling his hand down.

Will pops his eyebrows up and down, “See, no big deal. Just move on and keep enjoying the weekend. Alright?”

Through pursed lips you and Frankie both hum an alright back to Will and do your best to engage normally before heading back to the room to freshen up before the bar.

You storm into the room with Frankie hot on your tail. “Thanks a lot for that.” You say, going to your suitcase to collect your outfit for the evening.

Frankie pulls his shoulders up to his ears, “The fuck do you mean by that? You’re the one that was acting weird.”

“What you got going on over there? Real nice.”

He huffs, “Rather fall off the end of an ATV? Real nice.”

You turn where you stand and pinch your nose, frustrated and exhausted by the whole thing, “You know what Frankie, let’s just call this what it is. A shitty situation that is getting us both a little worked up.” You say, trying to diffuse the situation, “Can we just, go back to what we were doing before?”

Somewhat shocked, Frankie nods his head and rests his hands on his hips.

“Okay,” you say, putting your outfit into a bag and going to the bathroom to collect your makeup and hair products. When you return Frankie is still in the same spot, watching your figure move around the room with his eyes. “I’m gonna get ready with Sofia, Santi will be over soon.” You slowly creep closer to Frankie, causing his eyes to flick between your eyes and your mouth. Bringing your hand up to toy with the button his shirt you whisper, “So you should have time to rub one out thinking about how much you liked seeing me naked this afternoon.”

Frankies eyes flash bright white with arousal, his eyes crawl down to your chest heaving just a few inches from him. He slowly starts to lose his resolve as his head leans down slightly. To your dismay however, he suddenly jerks back and points a finger in your face again. “Nice try, I see the game is back on.”

“Bring it on, Morales.” You say with a click of your tongue on the top of your mouth before turning on your heels and walking out of the room.

The guys head to the nightclub of the resort early to save a booth for the group. You and girls arrive later and head straight to the bar to get some drinks. Your confidence was at an all-time high wearing a short black mini dress with a slit and red heels. The bartender swiftly gives you your drink with a wink and you knew the night would be a good one. As you and the girls were heading to the booth, Frankie was on his way to the bar for his own drink. The club was a tight squeeze as it was already filled with hundreds of people. As he approaches, he turns slightly to move past you. You casually turn as well so your back is to him and then slowly brush past him, rubbing your ass on his crotch as you pass. You look over your shoulder and bat your lashes offering an innocent, “Oops, sorry roomie.”

The sound he makes can only be described as a growl as he stares you down as you walk away and to the booth.

The night wears on without incident. You and the girls dancing on the dance floor, when the guys join and the couples began pairing off, you take it as an opportunity to retreat to the bar and get another drink.

Sitting on a cozy plush bar stool, waiting to get the bartender’s attention, when a hand suddenly lands at the bottom of your back. You turn to look and are met with an incredibly handsome man. Dark hair and features, tall and broad shoulders with a thin waist. He was wearing an open white button shirt and tan shorts that were a touch too short for your liking, but he was gorgeous, nonetheless.

“Hi.” He says with a charming smile.

You turn in your seat to him, “Hey.”

“I’m Juan.” he says, offering his hand.

Shaking his hand and giving him your name, he smiles at you. “I’ve been watching you dance. You’ve got great moves.”

Blushing, you reply, “Didn’t I see you at the beach today? Playing volleyball?”

He nods and you continue, “So what are you stalking me?” You ask with a cheeky grin on your face.

Juan drops his head with his laugh and then lifts it back up to meet your eyes, his chocolate brown eyes sending heat down to your core with every blink. “I wouldn’t call it that, maybe lusting after you, admiring you.”

Your chest flushes with his charm and the two of you dive into a back-and-forth retort of flirting and questions. Your hand finding his chest from time to time, his finding your bare leg and rubbing tiny circles into it with his thumb.

All the while, Frankie is back in the booth with your friends, watching the scene unfold.

Blaire leans into the group to shout over the music, “Looks like Birdie found herself a match for the weekend.”

Wendy and Sofia giggle together, while Frankie chews his bottom lip.

Santi looks over at his friend and pats his shoulder, “Hey, you alright?”

Frankie nods, “Oh yeah, just feeling a little stuffy. I think I’m gonna go outside and get some air.” He says as casually as possible.

He rises from the booth and slinks past his friends to head towards the door, not before looking over his shoulder to see Juan close in on you and take your chin in his finger, tipping your face up towards his. He turns on his heels and bounds out the door into the humid air outside the club before he sees anything else. Frankie leans his back against the cool wall and rests his head back before taking another long sip from his drink.

When he returns, you are back seated with the group at the booth. He gives a meek grin as he slides back in and into your conversation with the girls.

“So, his name is Juan and he’s from New Mexico. He’s here with a few of his friends for one of their birthdays for the weekend.” You continue.

Sofia inches closer to you, “So, are you gonna, you know tonight?”

Frankie’s breath catches in his throat as he waits for your response.

“No, today is his friend’s actual birthday so he doesn’t wanna bail on him, but he promised to find me tomorrow.” You say with a wink. “He did kiss me before he left and that was fireworks so I’m pretty excited.” Taking a sip from your drink as the girls all squeal with their excitement for you.

Not long later, you and Frankie are sliding into your room to end the night. You hum in your drunkenness and fall onto the bed.

Frankie stands above you looking down at your state and grins to himself. You perch up on your elbows and whine, “Frankieeee, can you take my shoes of they’re fucking killing me.”

He crosses his arms, “Why can’t you do it?”

“Frankie!” You snap, “Please I can’t do it I’m too tired.” Swatting your hands down on the bed like a brat.

“Too drunk is more like it.” He says before leaning with his knee on the bed and grabbing your leg. He slowly pulls at the straps on your ankles and does his best to ignore the way your silky-smooth skin feels to his touch, how it makes his cock twitch in his shorts. Try not to think about bringing it up to his mouth to place supple kisses to it.

Once your feet have sufficiently been freed from their pain you roll under the covers and pull the pillow tight into a snuggle.

“You’re not gonna get changed?” he asks, rounding his side of the bed.

Your eyes held tight you reply, “Nope, too comfy now.”

He smirks and slides into the bed after undressing. Rolling over he turns off the light and lays with his back flat on the bed before turning slightly to look at you. “G’night.” He mutters under his breath. He waits for your answer, but you’ve already fallen deep into a drunken sleep, so he rolls over onto his side facing away from you and pinches his eyes closed, willing the images of you from today to escape his tired mind.

Part 2

A Bahamas Bet

Frankie Morales fanfiction x f! reader

Summary: Going on vacation to the Bahamas with your friends could only call for sun, fun and a sweet vacation hookup. Nothing could ruin your enjoyable time, not even your childhood friend’s obnoxious army buddy, Frankie Morales. Right?

Original characters- Wendy (Will), Blaire (Benny), Sofia (Santi)

Two-part series warnings and info: 18+ Minors DNI, enemies to lovers, one bed left at the inn trope, alternating povs, Frankie doesn’t have a child, brief mention of therapy, reader nickname Birdie, alcohol, smut, protected p in v, hat stays ON, oral f receiving, swearing

Part 2 Word Count: 8k

Part 2

Saturday

Head pounding, you pull your tired body up in the bed. Rubbing your hands on your face, you look over to the other side of the bed and notice it empty. You can’t hear anything either, until the hinge of the bathroom door creaks, and Frankie steps out, already dressed for the day in a fitted black t shirt and cargo shorts, his signature hat perched comfortably on his head.

He comes to a stop at the end of the bed and rests his hands on his hips, “Well, morning sleeping beauty.”

You grunt and grab his pillow from beside you before throwing it at him. He easily bats it out of the way and smiles. “Feeling fresh and ready to enjoy the day?” He asks with far more gusto than you would prefer given your state of unwell.

Peering at him through hooded eyes you reply, “Frankie just, leave me here to rot, go get brunch.” You say, as you rest your head back down on the pillow.

Grinning, he comments, “Alright well, I uh- left out some water and Advil for you there. Thought you might need it.” He shuffles on his feet, trying to play off the incredibly thoughtful act as a moment of complete nonchalance.

 Pulling the comforter down off your face, you look at him and then the nightstand, “Oh, thanks Frankie.”

He nods, “No problem I’m gonna, uh- I’m gonna go catch up with everyone.” he says, gesturing to the door, before fumbling around with his wallet and room key and heading out.

Once you’ve finally collected yourself enough to run your drained body through the shower and pull a brush through your hair, you make your way to the dining room with sunglasses adorned on your face. You were still working on getting back to yourself after the brutal hangover you’ve been feeling and did not want to risk running into Juan without covering up the grim bags under your eyes.

Bennys eyes brighten when you approach the full table and he gestures to you, “Oh, there she is our beautiful and not at all dead looking friend.”

They all clap along with him as you wave your hands, conceding to his comment.

“Still look better than you Miller.” You say, sitting down and beginning to eat your pile of breakfast food you’ve collected from the buffet.

Blaire offers you a sympathetic smile, “Oh don’t listen to him, just start thinking about seeing Juan later and I’m sure your energy will come right back.”

“Mm, you’re right. We’re going to the beach today, right? Maybe I’ll get a nap in while I’m there so I’m nice and refreshed.”

Wendy taps her hands on the table and straightens up in her seat, “Right, so once you’re all done, I think we can head there after we’re all changed. Maybe some beach volleyball if you’re all down?”

The group gives their approval for the days’ activities and departs once you are done eating to get ready for the hot Bahamas rays and stunning waters.

Th sun scorches your skin as you lay your towel down on a reclined chair on the beach next to the girls. You pull your bathing suit cover off, revealing your tiny black bikini that shows every bit of skin that you’re looking to show off this weekend. Grabbing your sunscreen, you sit down on the recliner and begin to apply it on yourself. You see Frankie standing just to the side, apparently looking out to the water’s horizon, however, if you could see under the mirrored sunglasses he has on, you’d be able to see that his eye line follows every movement of your hands as you apply the sunscreen to your smooth skin.

Rolling over onto your stomach you gesture to Frankie with the sunscreen, “Hey roomie, could you get my back and shoulders?”

He gulps and tries his best to feign annoyance. “I see what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing Frankie?” You say, mimicking your innocence of yesterday.

He huffs, “Fine, but you asked me, so it doesn’t count as anything.” He says, waving his hands casually before you.

You pop your eyebrows up and down and lay back down on the recliner.

Frankie sits on the side of the recliner and wishes to all that is good in this world that your ass didn’t have to look that good in your bikini. He squeezes the sunscreen into his hand and looks down at your nearly bare back. Taking a deep breath, he begins rubbing the lotion onto your back and shoulders, trying to be mindful of the top of your bikini bottoms.

You let out a quiet moan that could only be heard by him, “Seriously?” He asks in a sarcastic tone.

“Sorry, just feels so nice and relaxing.” You say, giggling to yourself.

He rolls his eyes and finishes rubbing the lotion on you, patting your shoulder when he’s done and standing up from the recliner with a grunt.

A while later you’re woken from your slumber with a smack on your ass, you turn swiftly to see Sofia hovering over you, “Hey bitch wake up it’s volleyball time.”

With a groan of sleepiness, you get up from your comfortable position and make your way to the volleyball court on the beach your friends are situated at.

The game is certainly waking you up and making you feel a little more energetic. Wendy suddenly taps your elbow and points over to the water, “Hey isn’t that, Juan?”

Your eyes snap over to where she is pointing, you pull your sunglasses up slightly to look more intently and sure enough see the same man you were flirting with last night. Today though he is shirtless with short swim trunks. His tan chest was chiseled, and his 6 pack was undeniably sexy. Biting your lip briefly you give Wendy an excited look before turning your attention back to the man by the shore.

Raising your hand to wave, you are just about to call out his name when suddenly a THUD- in the form the volleyball strikes you right in the head. You turn and look with a shocked expression on your face to see Santi standing on the opposite side of the net with his shoulders at his ears and a grimace on his face.

“Sorry!” he yells over to you, waving his hand as an apology.

You nod your head and look back to the shoreline, where Juans stunning physique has now disappeared from. Chewing the inside of your cheek you look around for a moment before returning your attention to the game.

The music in the resort nightclub is booming and the crowd is carrying on with the same energetic dancing as the previous nights.

You and Blaire are situated in the middle of the dance floor after a few too many drinks enjoying the night. Your eyes continue to scan the room for your mysterious love interest, though admittedly, dropping back to Frankie in the booth. His hair is especially curly this evening, poking out of his hat after spending the afternoon in the water. His cheeks are rosy from being in the sun today and his black t shirt was open on the top 3 buttons, exposing the small patch of chest hairs. You are dressed in a tight red dress that hugs each and every curve with black heels that have straps around your ankles, and a special pair of black lace panties for your potential suitor that night. If he ever shows up that is.

A hand finds its way to your waist, and you turn swiftly in it, placing your hands firmly on Juan’s chest as he looks down at you with a devious grin.

“Hey beautiful, sorry I took so long to get here. My buddy is pretty much blacked out in his room right now, so I had to make sure he was alright.” he says, inching closer to you and wrapping his arm around you.

Smiling back at him you fumble with the buttons on his shirt casually and look up to meet his gaze, “It’s okay, I’m just glad to see you here now.”

You look back over your shoulder to discover that Benny had seen Juan’s attendance and joined his girlfriend on the dance floor. Subjecting everyone to his terrible white boy dance moves.

You and Juan fall into a comfortable routine of grinding against each other and sneaking back to the bar for shots, as well as stealing heated kisses, all of which had your head spinning. He was a nice guy, for real he was, but you knew it was just a vacation fling. He didn’t give you those butterflies that you knew you were supposed to have.

Finally, feeling the effects of all the liquid you drank, you offer your apologies as you exit to seek the washroom. He leans in and tells you that he’ll be at the bar getting some more drinks.

Feeling so much lighter and not having to squeeze your thighs together any more due to the incessant need to pee, you return to the dance floor and peer over to the bar. However, Juan is nowhere to be seen. You look around and sneak a peak at the booth your friends are at, but still nothing. In a huff you walk over to the bar, just for your elbow to be tapped by Juan over to your side. Your smile spreads across your face until you notice his worried expression.

He leans in with his hands planted firmly in his pockets, “Hey, I uh- I’m gonna head back to my room.”

You perk up and run your hands on his chest, “Okay, that sounds good to me.”

Juan slightly recoils at your touch and pulls a half smile, “Oh, no just by myself. It was nice meeting you, but uh- I don’t think it’s gonna work out. Have a nice night though.”

Before you can pick your jaw up off the floor he has turned and is heading to the doors. Your head spins from the alcohol and the complete 180 degree change your date has just had. Turning on your heels you go over to the dance floor where the girls are all dancing to the Britney Spears throwback booming through the speakers.

“Hey, what happened to Juan?” Blaire asks.

You shrug, “I don’t know. I thought things were going great and then all of a sudden, he bailed on me. I don’t know what even happened.” Crossing your arms you think back to the conversations you had and look for any red flags you may have put forth.

Wendy bites her lip and looks up in thought, “I saw him talking to Frankie at the bar after you left to go to the washroom, maybe he would know?”

Your eyes narrow in suspicion, and you excuse yourself to go to the bar. As you squeeze through the crowd you see Frankie seated on a stool with his broad shoulder facing you, looking up at one of the TVs. You tap his shoulder, and he spins slowly in the stool to face you, his expression dropping slightly.

“Hey um- this is weird to ask but did Juan say anything to you when you were talking to him. Like about me? He just left in a hurry, and I don’t really know what I did wrong I guess.” You say with your arms crossed and shoulders hunched forward, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

Frankie swallows deeply and hums to himself, “Uh, nope he didn’t say anything about you.” Taking a drink from his beer, his eyes are somewhat sympathetic.

Biting your bottom lip you nod, “Oh okay, well worth a shot I guess.” You motion to turn but before you can Frankie interjects.

“It might’ve had something to do with what I said to him though.”

Your head whips back and eyes bulge, heat growing between your ears. “And what did you say to him?”

He smirks to himself and replies, “I told him that we were a couple, were looking for a third and that I was really excited to get to know him.” He chuckles and winks at you before bringing his beer back to his lips.

Head spinning, eyes burning you stutter out, “What, - what the fuck Frankie why would you say that?”

“Probably because his face was funny as hell when I told him, plus that guy was a total tool, you should be thanking me.” He responds with a smile.

Your emotions get the better of you and you shove him directly in the chest with both hands, “Dammit Frankie! He was not a tool he was a good guy. I can’t fucking believe you!” You turn on your heels and storm towards the exit.

Frankies eyes bug out and he quickly chugs his beer before slamming it down on the bar top to rush after you.

Your friends see the kerfuffle from their comfortable seats in the booth. All quietly wondering what was to come from this fight. Santi and Sofia give each other knowing looks before they all return to their evening.

All you could hear during your stampede to your room was the trailing footsteps of Frankie’s shoes and his meek calls for you to stop.

Finally getting to your room you slide the card in and heave the door open before whipping it hard to close. Frankie’s hand finds its way between the door and the latch to squeeze in and follow your step once more.

“Hey, come on are you seriously that mad?” he asks, with his arms spread and exasperation on his face.

You whip around to face him, placing your hands on your hips. “Yes, Frankie I am fucking mad. You had no right to do that. I don’t even understand why you would give a shit if I hooked up with him tonight.”

His face drops with his hands, “I don’t know, I just, fuck I don’t know Birdie.”

“Oh no, don’t even start with that Birdie shit. You have never once in your entire time knowing me used my real nickname so don’t start now.” You turn your attention to your suitcase and begin throwing items into it.

“What are you doing?” He asks, watching your fumbled state.

Not even looking over your shoulder you reply, “Getting the fuck out of this room. Have fun cuddling Santi tonight.”

Frankie steps inward and crowds you, “Come on don’t do that. Just talk to me, why are you leaving.”

You turn quickly in your spot, standing now just inches from him. Raising your head to speak directly into his face. “You wanna know why? Fine, you are the biggest narcissist I have ever met.” You begin, counting out on your fingers your reasons. “You ruined my date, and my vacation. And you’re too busy wallowing in your own self-pity to realize how your actions affect other people. Are those enough reasons to leave?”

He sucks his teeth and looks down at you, “Are there any reasons to stay?” he asks calmly.

“Hm, not that I can think of. Can you think of one?” You ask sarcastically, glaring at his deep brown eyes.

In an instant his mouth crashes into yours. Your eyes bulge as you take in the moment, before quickly falling victim and wrapping your arms around his neck. He grabs your hips and pulls them in closer to press against him. It’s all tongue and teeth as you devour each other next to the mini fridge of your hotel room. He slides his hand into your hair to pull your head back, granting him access to nip and suck at your neck as you moan and run your hands through the hair at the nap of his neck.

He turns you on your feet and backs you up until your knees hit the edge of the bed, before pushing you down flat on it. He leans down and grabs your heel to pull it up to his chest and begins pulling the straps off them, peppering kisses along your ankle. Moving to the other. His drunken hands fumble with the clasp, “Fuck sakes you had to choose the most complicated shoes.” He mumbles under his breath.

You roll your eyes, “Shut the fuck up and get down here.”

He eyes you with raised brows and pulls the shoe off your foot before taking his hat in his hand and pulling his shirt up and over his head, placing his trusted hat firmly back on his luscious curls. You bite your lip as you watch him unhook his belt and pull his shorts down, kicking off his shoes in the process.

You widen your legs for him, and he trails his hands up your thighs, sneaking them slightly under the hem of your dress. You rise up on the bed and pull the straps off your shoulders to begin shimmying the dress down your body. He rubs your legs as his eyes widen, watching your plump chest fall free from the fabric of the dress as you continue to scoot it further down your body. His hands raise to grab the material from you, and you lift your hips to allow him to pull it the rest of the way down your body, leaving you bare save for your lacey panties.

He runs a finger lightly over the fabric on your folds, “These were for him then?” he asks quietly.

You nod slowly, he grins and comments. “I guess his loss is my gain then.”

You inch up on the bed as he follows you closely, climbing over your body and launching down to capture your mouth with his teeth. Your hands explore every inch you can reach as you urge him forward. Hips bucking up to seek friction against his hardening length.

He breaks off and looks down between the two of you, “Needy huh?”

Shaking your head with frustration you pull at his curly locks, “Can you just fuck me already?”

His smirks and leans back on his haunches to grab your panties and pull them down your legs, before rolling onto his side and side his boxers down.

When he returns to his position you both drop your gazes. He licks his lips, looking down at your wet pussy, just dripping for him and your eyes pop at the sight of his cock. Long and girthy, a sensational feeling creeps up your spin as you admire his length.

He looks at you, “Did you happen to bring any-,”

“Oh, fuck, yeah just in my nightstand.” You say, pointing over to the table situated beside the bed.

He nods and reaches over to the nightstand to pull out and roll the condom firmly onto himself.

Widening your legs for him he leans back down to bring you into another kiss, reaching down between the two of you to guide his cock into your entrance. The first few pushes burn with the stretch, but it feels too good to slow down. He continues his pace until he bottoms out in you, both of you letting out an agonizing moan as you take in each other.

“You okay?” he asks.

Nodding you reply, “Yeah, yeah fuck, Frankie just move I need to feel you.” Your tone almost begging.

Frankie smiles and begins moving his hips back and forth against you, your eyes roll back at the feeling, and he leans down to capture your nipple in his mouth. Biting it tightly as he slams into you at a pace you haven’t experienced before.

He breaks away momentarily to mutter under his breath, “Can’t believe we’re doin’ this.”

Moans escaping your mouths as the top of his cock presses against your clit with each devastating roll of his hips. You bring him back up to your mouth to pull at his lips with your teeth as he continues to move into you. Deep breaths and the slapping of skin is all that can be heard as the two of you take in each other’s bodies. He lays flat on you, and you wrap your arms around his neck to squeeze as your walls clench around him, sending the most incredible waves up your body and causing your chest to arch into his. He hums at the feeling and then lets out an animalistic grunt as he presses forward one last time, filling the condom inside you.

He stills and rests his head against yours, both of you breathing deeply. “Fuck, what was, fuck was that?”

You giggle under your breath, “I don’t even know.”

Frankie drags his tired body off you and heads to the bathroom. You slide under the sheets and close your eyes, head still spinning from the alcohol and the intense orgasm you just had.

He comes back and lays down next to you resting his arm behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. “Do you uh- do you wanna talk about that or-,”

“No, no Frankie I just, mmm I need to sleep. I’m still too drunk.” You say rolling over on your side and snuggling next to him.

He grins to himself, looking down at your sleepy state, “Okay baby, get some sleep.”

Sunday

Eyes creeping open, you once again feel the weighted body of Frankie against your back and his arm slung over your side. Your annoyance ringing in your ears before the events of last night and your current state of undress crash into you like a freight train. You don’t move, don’t breathe too heavily, as if not engaging in the truth or awakening the world with your presence would somehow make what happened last night not real. Did you want it to be real? No, how could you possibly, he’s an ass, always has been. Last night was just a drunken mistake. Was it? It did feel amazing, and you could’ve stopped it any time, but you didn’t. Have you secretly been thinking about the possibilities since the beginning of this forsaken bet? All these questions swirling around your aching head makes your eyes squeeze shut again, desperately trying to drown out the light and the consequences of your actions.

As if feeling the tension literally emitting from your body, Frankie begins to roll over and move his arm off of you before waking himself. You hold still in the position you are in, pulling your covers close to your chin and hoping he might not see you.

He rubs his eyes and peers over at you, “Mornin’” he says with a groggy voice.

Slowly rolling over onto your other side with a shy smile you look at him with your head rested firmly on the pillow, “Hey.” You whisper.

Frankie rolls onto his side and places a warm hand on your arm that is holding the comforter tight to your neck. “You okay?”

Pulling your mouth into a thin line you nod, “Yeah, just uh, - don’t really know where to go from here. Or what it meant.”

“Yeah, that’s uh, I think a bigger conversation after some coffee.” He smiles, rubbing tiny circles in your arm with his thumb.

You nod and rise out of bed, both of you getting ready silently but politely. Holding the door to the bathroom open for each other, him handing you your sunscreen from the table when you were fumbling in your bag looking for it, you making the bed including his side.

The two of you walk beside each other down to the buffet for brunch, no words, just a comfortable silence. It doesn’t feel like even small talk would be safe until you have a chance to properly talk.

After collecting your much-needed coffee and food, you both sit down at the table with your friends and they all examine your faces, wondering where you stood after last night’s fight.

Wendy rubs your arm sympathetically, “Hey, how you doing? What happened last night?”

Frankie clears his throat to defend you before you interject, “I’m fine, last night was a total misunderstanding. Sorry if I worried you guys.” You say, offering a half-hearted smile.

Benny crosses his arms and leans back, “But like, what made you wanna go round for round with Fish here?”

Biting your bottom lip and looking at Frankie’s deep brown eyes, filled with concern you straighten up and reply, “I thought Frankie ruined my date when he talked to Juan, but I was wrong, he explained himself when we got back to the room and he was right, that guy wasn’t right for me. I didn’t need him, don’t need him.”

Frankie’s face pulls into a short smile, trying to stifle his apparent joy at your story.

Blaire smiles, “Well, I hope you two are still okay if we break off for our couples day today.”

Nodding you reply, “Oh of course, you guys go and enjoy your days. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

Santi grins to himself and slaps his hands on his thighs as he rises up, “Alright well, if you’ll excuse us, I have a date with my lady and a waterfall.” He says, taking Sofia’s hand and helping her up before waving to the group and departing.

The other two couples stand as well and say their goodbyes, leaving you and Frankie staring down at your plates of food and steaming coffees.

You eat in silence, a million questions racing around your mind with each bite of your toast. Upon finishing your plate, you lean back in your chair to check your phone. Looking at your calendar you’re reminded of something you unfortunately forgot. “Hey, Frankie um, - I’m really sorry but I booked a massage for this morning since I knew they would all be busy. I can always cancel it if-,”

He waves his hands causally towards you, “No, no please go. We can catch up later.” he says, breathing deeply out of his nose.

You smile and nod before getting up and heading over to the spa. During your walk your feet feel like they’re floating and you’re still slightly dizzy from the events of the weekend.  Rounding the corner to the spa you look to your right and catch a sight of Juan standing near the checkout desk. He spots you and quickly turns on his feet to face another direction.

Pulling your lips tight to your teeth you huff out of your nose. Yep, that seems about right, you think to yourself. A relaxing massage is exactly what you need to hopefully shut your mind off for a while.

A while later you leave the spa with your body and mind more relaxed. Your hangover has disappeared, and your energy returned, ready to take on whatever the rest of the day called for. While still nervous, you didn’t know what Frankie would think about what happened last night. He has never once shown interest in you during these few years. Was it purely physical or was there more. If there was more, was there more on your side? How would your lives fit together you thought. He lived in the same city as you, had the same friend group as you, partook in the same activities on the weekend as you. Really, your life has been blended for years now. He has a good job and so do you, it seems like it could come together seamlessly. However, there’s still the nagging feeling that is crawling up your neck each time you consider a relationship with him. That feeling comes of course from the relentless taunting and bullying you’ve received from him. You’re tough in the skin and it never bothered you but is that still the type of person you would want to build a life with, having had such a bad foundation to form on.

As your mind drifts in and out of uncertainty, your eyes are unfocused as you turn a corner and come crashing into none other than Frankie Morales.

“Oh, shit sorry.” You exclaim, trying to steady your footing.

He grins down at you and grabs his hat to scratch his head, “Hey, that’s okay I um should’ve been watching where I was going. A little lost in thought I guess.”

You nod and clasp your hands firmly together in front of you, “Hm, yeah, me too I guess.”

Taking a deep breath, he asks casually, “How was your massage?”

“Good, good thanks for asking. Definitely relaxing.”

“That’s good.” He says, both of you drowning in the undeniable awkwardness of the moment.

Frankie clears his throat before asking, “Do you wanna, go for a walk? I saw a trail over at the end of the beach that looks nice.”

Accepting the time has finally come for your talk, you agree and begin the walk towards the beach.

Sun beating down and waves crashing in, the beach is filled with fun seekers and tanners. They all look to be having such an easy-going time compared to yourself whose stomach has not stopped twisting since your sandals hit the warm beach.

You and Frankie remain in your quiet state until he finally finds the trail head and starts down it. He looks beside himself at your flushed chest and chewed lip that you’ve been worrying since you left the spa. “I don’t, really know how to start this I guess.” He says, placing his hands in the pockets of his plaid shorts.

Grinning slightly, you look up at him, “Yeah me neither.”

“I guess, I should first just apologize for what happened with Juan last night. I really am sorry.” he says, looking around at the foliage of the trail.

“Oh right, uh thank you. I appreciate that.” You say before thinking further, “I guess my question from last night was never answered so -,” you trail off, hoping he understands where you’re coming from.

He nods, “Yeah, that I don’t entirely have an answer for I guess.” He scratches the thin patchy beard spread across his chin. “I guess I was just threatened by him and didn’t like the idea of you going home with him, or anyone else really.”

His admission came as a shock, still unclear as to why he had such feelings. “Why did that bother you? I mean, we go to bars together, we’ve both seen our fair shares of one-night stands. It didn’t seem to bother you before.”

“Yeah, I know. Um, just felt different I guess.” he says quietly.

“Different how?” You ask, crossing your arms and growing slightly frustrated.

Taking a deep breath, he pinches the ridge of his nose and thinks. “Sorry, I haven’t done this in a while.” He begins.

“Done what?”

He smiles softly, “Talked about, - talked about my feelings. For someone.”

You take a deep breath in your nose and twirl your thumbs together, still slowly making your way down the trail. “Is that what we’re doing here? Talking about our feelings for each other?”

Before he can reply he looks forward at the scenery the trail has led to. A cascading waterfall atop a simple flowing stream and wildflowers all about. A single two-person bench sits quaintly near the edge of the water.

You laugh to yourself looking around, “Huh, figures. The waterfall for lovers.”

He grins and then offers his hand to you; you look him in the eyes before taking it and allowing him to lead you to the bench.

Frankie sits and rests his elbows on his thighs, taking deep breaths and looking at the water toppling down the cliff side. He turns his head to look at you, “Ask me again.” he says.

You look at him confused, “Ask what again?”

He clears his throat, “Ask me again why I always treated you the way I did. Like you were annoying.”

Biting your lip, your voice comes out as quiet as a church mouse, “Why?”

Frankie’s breath comes out like it hurts, “Because, I thought if I pushed you away like that then it would be easier. I liked you as soon as I met you, but I just, I was a mess when I was discharged, and I didn’t want to burden you with all that. I wasn’t ready for whatever this could be. So, I thought if I didn’t get close to you then I wouldn’t have to worry about you developing feelings for me. Making you hate me seemed better than disappointing you.”

It was heart wrenching hearing Frankie speak so highly of you and so poorly of himself. Floods of emotions came, and you had to know more about what you were considering at this moment. “What about now? Are you ready now?”

“Now?” he began, “Now, I have a steady job and a therapist that helps me take care of my mind. I have friends who are all happy and have moved on from everything we went through in the service. Now, I’ve spent 72 hours with you and during that short time you managed to break through all the walls I had built and the cage I put myself in.”

You want to respond, want to apologize that you may have pushed him too far, especially with the bet, and that you could give him more space, but he continued before you could pull the strained voice from your throat.

“I think I am ready now. I think I’ve worked hard these last few years to become a man you deserve. I think you deserve the world, I really do, and while I can’t give you that, I’m hoping I may be enough.” His deep brown eyes well up with emotion and he tries not to look directly at you.

Your chest tightens and your breath stops. This isn’t the Frankie you knew, no, this is new. This Frankie is different. This Frankie doesn’t have sharp edges or a quick wit. This Frankie, this Frankie is one you could fall in love with.

“Frankie, I have been extremely surprised by you this weekend. I have yelled at you, laughed with you, and experienced things I didn’t think were possible. I’m gonna need some time to catch up, because up until a few days ago, I absolutely hated your guts.” You and he both laugh for a moment, and he takes your hands in his. “But, if you’ll allow me the time, I’d like to try to catch up to where you are, because I really like you and I want to see where this could go.”

His eyes lighten and his smile beams, “Shit really?”

Nodding you reply, “Yeah, I guess Fish and Birdie do kind of go together anyway.” You beam and he matches your expression.

Frankie wraps his arms around to bring you into a tight embrace and you stay there still, him holding you and you listening to his rapid heartbeat.

“You know, if I weren’t such a nice person, I might count you confessing your love for me as making a move.” You say giggling to yourself.

He lets out a chuckle, “I think I already lost the bet last night when I kissed you.”

“It’s okay, I won’t count that either. We can split the room, and you can just owe me like 50 dinner dates.” You say pulling yourself out of his arms to lean in and plant a loving kiss to his lips.

“Deal. Now that I’m sure the waterfall worked its magic, we should head back.” He says, taking your hand again and helping you off the bench.

Your mouth gaps, “Did you know this was down here?”

His face grows embarrassed, “Uhhh, yeah, I did. I figured I needed all the help I could get.”

You laugh together and take his hand in yours, traveling back down the path.

“You didn’t completely hate my guts, right?” he asks inquisitively.

Rolling your eyes you reply, “Oh big time. Couldn’t fucking stand you.”

Frankie’s mouth drops in fake offence. You continue, “But, I did think you were cute and may have daydreamed about you a little.”

He smiles and pulls you in to wrap his arm around your waist, “I’ll take it.”

Returning to your room you look at the bed, the scene of the crime. You still haven’t spoken about that part of the situation yet and just thinking about it makes your core ache for more.

Frankie spots your eyeline and follows it to the bed, both of you standing near the edge facing each other and holding hands. He looks back at you, “I didn’t know when would be a good time to talk about, that whole thing. It was a bit impulsive on my side and I’m sorry if it was too soon.”

You shake your head, “No, no it’s okay. It was definitely unexpected, but I don’t regret it at all.”

Nodding he bites his lip, “So uh, what the fuck was that all about then?” he asks, his tone changing to a humorous laugh.

You match his laugh, “Fuck I literally don’t even know. Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

“Pfft, fuck, it was incredible. I can’t wait to see how it feels when I’m not hammered and can actually take my time.” He says, smiling at you, the lines on his face shining brightly with his expression.

You both look over at the bed again, chewing the inside of your cheek, before looking back at each other.

Moving as one, you close together and bring your hands to his face and his on your waist. Encapsulating each other in a heated kiss. His tongue pushes against your lips, which you happily encourage with your own tongue. You quickly become impatient and begin pulling at each other’s clothing. Unbuttoning his shirt as fast as your fingers can manage while he pulls at your shorts and pushes them down your legs. Once you’ve sufficiently rid yourselves of your clothes, save for Frankies hat, he turns you and sits you down on the edge of the bed.

“I’m gonna take care you baby alright?” he says, kneeling down and kissing the inside of your thighs as you lower your body flat on the bed and spread your legs for him. He swiftly turns his hat backwards and hums as he swipes a finger through your slick folds, “I didn’t get a good look at you last night, you have the most perfect pussy I have ever seen.”

“Oh stop, you’re just saying that.” You say with a giggle.

“Does this make you feel like I’m lying?” he asks, before diving in like a man starved of food for weeks.

Your back arches immediately as he expertly takes you apart with his tongue. Bouncing around between your entrance and clit. Your moans permeate the room with each swipe. Before you can even realize what’s happening, the string in your core is snapping and your orgasm is rushing through you. Frankie can feel your pussy plump out for him, and he quickly slides two fingers into your entrance for you to clamp down on. The sudden intrusion descends you into another wave of your orgasm. Hands grasping desperately at the bed spread, breath deep, you finally come down from you transcendent high.

He licks one last agonizing stripe up our folds to your sensitive mound and begins to crawl up the bed to you. “Taste so sweet baby.” He says before latching his mouth to yours.

You take his face in your hands and taste your pleasure on his mouth and mustache. You scoot out from under him and urge him to lay down flat on the bed. “I wanna ride you baby.” You say breathlessly.

He bites his lip and moves on the bed, before he can lie down you reach down to his head and pluck his hat off, planting it on your own backwards. He growls at the sight and steals a passionate kiss before accepting his position as pillow princess.

You reach over to the nightstand and hand him a condom. He rolls it on, and you sit up on your knees over top of his hardening length. Taking him in your hand you swipe him through your dripping folds, before slowly lowering yourself down on him. Each inch sending pleasure through every nerve of your body.

“Fuck, baby, taking my cock so well look at you.” He says, grabbing your hips tightly, no doubt to leave bruises for him to kiss tomorrow.

Bottoming out you let out a primal moan and place your hands firmly on his chest. “Oh, you feel so good.”

“Yeah? Show me how good I feel inside you.” He says through gritted teeth, slowly rocking you on his thick cock.

You raise up and down on him and every time it feels better than the last. Over and over again until you’re both panting from pleasure and overwhelmed. He reaches up and presses his thumb to your clit, so you roll your shoulders back and place your hands behind you on the bed to expose more of yourself to him. Your breasts bouncing with every movement and your head rolling back as your break approaches.

He watches you intently, as if you were a masterpiece in a museum, “Wanna see you come on my cock baby. You look so good when you finish.”

A few more sharp circles of your clit with his thumb and you’re stuttering, “Fuck, Frankie I’m gonna-,” is all you can manage before you begin squeezing him within an inch of his life. He follows immediately after, rutting up into you while he moans from his own bliss.

After a minute of deep breathing and eyes trying to roll back to normal you finally climb off of him and toss his hat off your head. He kisses your cheek before heading to the bathroom to clean up.

He rolls back into the bed with you and pulls you close to rest on his chest, “Mmm, that was great.” He says kissing your head.

“I’m so tired after all that, wanna take a nap?”

“Sounds good to me.” He says.

Hours later you’re awoken by your phone ringing, just missing the call you roll over and peer at the screen. “Fuck.” You exclaim.

Frankie jolts awake and looks at you, your eyebrows furrowed reading your messages. “What’s wrong?”

“That was Sofia trying to call me, looks like she texted me too. They headed down to dinner a while ago.”

He chews his lip and eyes your still naked body, “Would I be a total dick if I said I just wanted to stay here for the rest of the night?”

Turning in the bed with a mischievous look you ask, “No, but whatever would we do with all that time?” with a wink.

“Oh, I can think of something.” He says, leaning over onto you and capturing you in a kiss.

You oblige but quickly push him off, “Can we get room service though, I’m starving.”

Nodding, he replies, “Sure, then I’ll only owe you 49 more dinners.”

Room service took about 45 minutes, which gave you sufficient enough time to fool around again. Now sitting together on the bed, wrapped in the hotel’s fluffy white robes you stuff your faces with pizza and chicken wings while chatting.

“Good thing you brought that box of condoms, huh? Would’ve had me sprinting to the hotel store at 1am last night in nothing but my boxers if you didn’t.” Frankie laughed.

You grin as you swallow another bite of pizza, “Hey I was planning on hooking up this weekend, didn’t know it was gonna be you but, oh well.”

“What size box did you get anyway?” he asks, reaching into the nightstand and pulling out the box. “34!” he exclaims, looking at you with wild eyes. “How much sex were you planning on having this weekend?” he asks, laughing.

You laugh and snatch the box out of his hand, “Hey, I wasn’t gonna use all of them, obviously.”

“I don’t know, sounds like you had some pretty big plans for this weekend.”

Biting your lip, you look him up and down, “No, but something big did come up.” You say with a wink.

He looks at you slightly confused but also amused.

You giggle, “Sorry, dick joke.”

“Oh!” He laughs, “Yeah, one of my more redeeming qualities that’s for sure.”

“I’d say you’re pretty much redeemed at this point.”

Smiling, he looks at you with those damn deep brown eyes that make your heart twist every time now, “I am sorry again about how things have been between us. I really regret hurting you like that.”

“Don’t worry about it, I think a part of me could tell there was more to it. Will and Benny always sang your praises and I trust them so, I figured you couldn’t be as much of a bad guy that you led on.” You reply, taking his hand in yours. “It’s actually kind of exciting now, I get to get to know you all over again. The real you, that is.”

Looking bashful he tucks his head down slightly, “Well, I’ve gotten to know you quite a bit, and I really like you.”

You lean in for a kiss, “Thanks Fish, I really like you too. Does this mean you’re gonna start calling me by my nickname now?”

He goes into a fake deep thought, “Hmmm, I don’t know.” You offer a pout and plump your lower lip out. “Alright, you win, Birdie.” He says with a wink.

Monday

“You ready?” Frankie asks, putting away the last of his things in his suitcase.

Looking around the hotel room you grew a sense of sadness, so much has happened this weekend in this room, and you are sad to see it go. You are worried, worried about how the real world would react to your relationship with Frankie. Praying it wouldn’t reject you like a bad piercing and instead you would be able to blend your lives together and continue how it’s been these last crazy 24 hours.

“Hey,” he says softly, rubbing a hand on your shoulder. “It’s gonna be alright. We’re gonna go home, and get back into our routines, and I’m gonna take you out on a date. Have a chance to treat you right.”

His touch warms you and his words make you swoon. He was so comforting, and so reassuring. The way his eyes twinkle when they look at you could only be described as magic.

Nodding along to his soothing words, you throw your backpack over your shoulders and grab your suitcase, sliding out the door behind him. Once in the hallway, Frankie offers you a caring smile and his hand, which you accept gladly.

Walking into the lobby hand in hand with Frankie Morales was not how you expected this vacation to end, and by the looks on your friends faces it’s not what they were expecting either.

“Well, what do we have here?” Will hums.

Benny whistles and the girls give their ouus and ahhhs.

“Alright calm down you animals.” Frankie says, to settle the crowd of looky loos.

Blaire smiles, “So this is why you two weren’t at dinner and drinks last night, huh?”

“Thought you were dead.” Sofia comments with a laugh.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You say, steadying your suitcase on the white granite floor. Frankie squeezes your hand reassuringly.

Santi crosses his arms and grins brightly, “Well, I guess my plan worked after all.” he says, winking at Sofia who laughs and swats his arm playfully.

You look at him confused, “What plan?”

He smirks, “Oh, I booked you guys in the same room on purpose.”

Yours and Frankie’s mouths drop as the rest of the group share your shock. Various whats and Popes echoing out from you all.

Santi taps his hands up and down in the air, “Alright, alright calm down. I had to do something after the way I’ve been watching my best friend pine over this woman for the last few years. He wouldn’t make a move, so I just thought if I put them in the same room together for the weekend they’d be forced to-,”

“Fuck.” Benny interjected, giggling.

Sofia shakes her head, “Noo, talk. But I mean, we’re assuming you also….” She begins, giving you an inquisitive look.

You cross your arms and suck your teeth at the thought of your friends tricking you and Frankie, but ultimately nod your head slightly which earns a cheer from the group and causes Frankie to press his hand to his face in embarrassment.

Frankie pulls his hand off his face and points jokingly at Santi, “I’m gonna kick your ass, man. You could’ve told me.”

Santi shrugs, “It had to happen organically, love can’t be forced.” he says, wrapping his arm around Sofias’ waist.

Will leans into the group, “Hey Pope, did you hit Birdie with the volleyball on purpose on Saturday?”

You perk up immediately, snapping your fingers as you point at him. “Hey, yeah that was when I was trying to get Juan’s attention!”

Laughing, he replies, “Hey I was looking out for my boy. Didn’t want that guy messing anything up. I thought about trying to get rid of him that night too, but it seems Fish beat me to it.”

“Oh, you have no idea, that is a funny story for the shuttle ride.” You say, tapping Frankie’s elbow as he smiles at you.

Wendy claps her hands together, “Alright, now that we’ve got that all sorted, let’s head back to reality.”

Quiet groans erupt from the group as they collect their bags and head to the lobby doors. Frankie swiftly grabs your wrist before you can get too far and swings you back into his arms. Looking down at you he smiles, and you smile right back, before he leans down and kisses you tenderly, squeezing you tightly in his strong arms.

And there they were, those butterflies floating around in your stomach, just like you always knew you were supposed to feel when you were with the right guy, at the right time.

Part 1

@christinamadsen @fluffygoffpanda

My pretty men - part 3

Yeah because SW and OUAT fandoms deserve those too 😝😘

This......really need this right now

imagine not even needing to ask; Frankie simply wraps his arms around you, resting his chin against the top of your head, holding you close. he doesn’t mind when you turn in his embrace, burying your face into him, inhaling his scent—how it soothes you more than lavender or meditation ever could. just standing there, the world outside forgotten as he holds you, and you can’t help but wonder, wish, and hope that he’ll never let go. that you could stay like this forever—or at least for one more minute. just needing another moment, maybe two if you dare to be selfish and greedy. not that he’d ever call you either of those. he just smiles to himself, secretly thankful that you need him, that you want him.

as if you could ever need or want someone else.