Frankie X Reader - Tumblr Posts

oh my gosh! This little Drabble had me cracking up at the end! I love it!!! 🤣

congrats noxy! 🎉🥳👏🎊🙌🍾🥂

you know what imma ask… ✍️ doesn’t matter who but he’s gotta be thick

THANK YOU BEEF!!

I'm so grateful for your friendship and for all the love and support you give me. You are such a creative and special person and I'm so glad to have you in my life!!!

Here is a tale of THICC boi Frankie on a first-date hike with (you). I really hope you like it!!!!

if it were a snake, it would have bit you (WC: 542)

“Ouch!” Frankie hollers.

“You alright?” You call down the hill, a good ten steps ahead of him.

“I don’t know, I think-,” and that’s when Frankie sees the snake, slithering off the traill. Oh shit. He just got bit by a snake.

“Hey are you okay? You look pale, wanna stop for a snack?” you’ve made your way back down the trail and stand in front of him now.

You feel kinda bad. Your online dating profiles included pictures but you don’t think you realized how big of a guy Frankie really was until he showed up today. Why on earth had you picked hiking as a date? It’s not like you were the world’s most fit person yourself. Plus - a date where you ended up sweating in your crotch? How are you gonna get to second base now?

“F-fuck, I think I just got bit by a snake,” and he points to where he felt the sting.

His dick.

“Are you joki-”  and then you see a little spot of blood coming out of a little prick-hole in his jeans, right next to his fly. “Oh shit!  What do we do?” You’re too far up the mountain to go back for help and your cellphones aren’t getting service all the way out here. “Okay I have an idea, but you gotta relax, okay?”

Without another word you drop to your knees and undo Frankie’s fly, pulling his pants open and his underwear down over his dick. You see a tiny wound on the tip of his dick right next to his slit. His dick is soft but the size is still impressive and you hear him murmuring you don’t have to do this above you as you take the head of his cock into your mouth. His belly pushes against your forehead as he hunches over you to brace his hands on your shoulders.

Trying to focus that you’re trying to suck out venom, you work hard to ignore the fact that he’s getting thicker and harder in your hand, and break yourself off him to spit every 10 seconds. Although you think that popping him in and out of your mouth might be having the wrong effect, and it’s only kind of your fault that you keep rolling your tongue over his sensitive frenulum. You’re used to giving pleasure, not life-saving post-snake-bite treatment!

Just as you think you’ve done the best job you can do you hear him groan oh no I’m so sorry and he erupts all over your tongue, pulling himself out with his right hand and finishing coming on the ground at your knees. He’s apologizing repeatedly and doesn’t even seem to notice you’ve swallowed everything he gave you. You look to your right and see a bunch of thorny vines creeping onto the trail that you remember pushing out of your way when you went by them minutes ago.

“Hey… is this what bit you?” you ask, still on your knees, pointing to them.

Frankie blinks his eyes several times, refocusing after his orgasm. He turns to see what you’re pointing at and you watch his eyes go wide and then his entire face turns beet red.

This first date turned out better than you’d planned.

🐍

thank you to @strang3lov3 who helped me come up with this little scenario and also the hilarious title for this story.

Oh this is so sweet!!! 😍😍

what comes after (frankie morales x f!reader)

summary: frankie comes into your life when you’re least expecting it, and you end up falling harder than you thought possible for him. will past heartbreak hold you back from true happiness?

warnings: age gap (28/38), asshole ex-boyf behaviour, infidelity (not by reader or frankie), kinda anxious!reader w commitment issues, soft!frankie, kissing, alcohol, cigarettes, smutty thoughts & happenings, mention of protected piv, cursing, benny being annoying, food, tiny mention of blood & vomit, reader has a tattoo and wears skirts & dresses, 18+ mdni.

notes: if you felt frankie morales’ shirts, they’d be made of boyfriend material. the super sweet, amazing, hot kind. i said what i said.

thank you to my bestie & beta @macfrog 💛 i love you, babe. this fic wouldn’t be here without you. tysm for holding my hand throughout; everything i have is yours, now & forever.

You first meet Frankie Morales in a club.

You’re with Kimmy: your best friend since hazy summer days consisting of scraped knees and jelly shoes. You’re also exhibiting typical break-up symptoms: not sleeping all that well, feeling distanced from yourself and the life you knew before your ex-boyfriend.

It’s Kimmy’s idea - go out, get drunk, fuck around and forget.

You were hardly one to argue, especially when she put it like that.

You’re dressed in a meagre scrap of satin; backless and skimming the tops of your thighs, Steve Maddens from eBay on your feet. You like how it all looks on you, sad that your favourite things have languished at the back of your closet for far too long.

You both forgo jackets, hoping to spend the extra cash from the cloakroom on vodka. You giggle together, arm in arm, floating past security in a cloud of perfume and last-minute tequila shots.

This is how it should be. This is where you belong.

The thumping bass soothes your soul, neon colours swirling behind your closed lids. You tip your head back, hands thrown in the air as you and Kimmy move in time - a routine you’ve had down since you were old enough to be in these places.

You garner jealous glares and longing stares; none of it bothers you. Nobody can touch you, not when they don’t know you. Then, and only then, would you worry.

You both head to the bar after a while, sweat shimmering on your exposed skin, holding tight onto one another as you squeeze through the throngs of people. You fight for a space, bar top sticky against your elbows as you wait to give your order. Bursts of laughter and flirty chatter soon come from beside you: without a doubt, you know what’ll come next.

Kimmy always gets hit on when you go out together. You’re not upset by it - you’re the quieter one by nature, happy to let her take the spotlight. Besides, up until recently, you’d been spoken for anyway. You turn to see your friend enamoured by a good-looking blonde guy, and she giggles in your ear that his name is Benny, and he’s an MMA fighter.

You stifle a laugh, watching as he tips his head to you in greeting, leaning in close to snatch Kimmy’s attention back. You try - and fail - to get the bartender’s attention, debating whether to head back to the dancefloor alone.

Then, you notice him.

Hands stuffed in his jeans pockets, throat bobbing as he swallows his drink down. His cap sits low on his head, dark curls spilling out underneath. He glances at you; you turn away, embarrassed to be caught staring. You feel the heat of his gaze; look back to see his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he studies you shyly.

Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

Dark eyes, thick lashes, curved nose. Strong shoulders and a wide chest beneath his jacket; black and silver hair littering his jaw, save for a few patches here and there. He looks a little tired, out of place, kinda like he’d rather be anywhere other than here.

Older than you, for sure.

Sexy as hell.

He makes an apologetic gesture, rolling his eyes towards Benny, who has his tongue down Kimmy’s throat enthusiastically. Your best friend is responding just as eagerly, and you slide round them, approaching the man you’ve been side-eyeing.

You introduce yourself, and he does the same in return: Francisco Morales - Frankie, he shrugs.

You push past the awkwardness threatening to hold you back, righting your shoulders and try to emulate Kimmy. Stupid idea, in hindsight.

You find out Frankie’s a retired pilot, now the co-owner of a local hardware store. He tells you he and Benny were part of a bachelor party, made up of best pals since their military days. They happened to be the last ones standing, something that seems to surprise him as he says it.

Frankie asks about you: if you’re from around here, what you do for work. You watch him nodding intently as you talk, his eyes to travelling down to your cleavage when he thinks you’re not looking, slow smiles at your responses.

He leans close to hear you over the music, nose bumping your temple to talk to you. “You smoke?”

He smells earthy; musky cologne, a little sweat. You shake your head, but tell him you’ll tag along anyway. You check in with Kimmy, tell her where you’re headed as she drags Benny off to the dancefloor, agreeing to meet back at the bar in twenty.

You follow Frankie down the stairs, admiring his broad back in the dim lights as he offers you his hand to hold. “Wouldn’t wanna lose ya,” he chuckles, and you feel butterflies in your belly as his hand swallows yours, large and warm.

He lights up a smoke when you’re safely outside, offering it to you anyway, and you decide to take him up on it. God, what’s happening to you? You don’t do this. You haven’t done this since.. Nope. You’re not letting your mind wander there. Not now.

You hate how turned on you are by such a simple gesture: watching Frankie’s thick fingers languidly flick the lighter, cigarette dangling from his plush lips, dark eyes looking down at you.

“You both come here often?” he asks, exhaling smoke into the frigid air. You laugh, knowing honesty is probably the best policy. “More than I’d care to admit.”

Frankie grins again; his face so open and inviting. “Can’t say the same for us,” he tells you. “Will gets married next month, and it was Benny’s idea to bring him here tonight. That fucker didn’t think to plan anything else. So, the rest of ‘em got too drunk and crashed out at Santi’s.”

“So what I’m hearing is, you’re the sensible one?” you tease, goosebumps erupting over your bare arms as the trees shiver above you both. “Uh, kinda,” Frankie admits, scrubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “I don’t drink. This isn’t my usual idea of a good time.”

You digest this information, not wanting to probe. “Plus, ‘m probably too old,” he sighs, and you feel your eyebrows raising. “No age limit in a place like this,” you tell him quietly, and he stares at you again for a moment: eyes flicking between your lips and back up to hold your gaze. “Guess not,” he concludes with a slow grin, making your stomach flip over itself.

You feel yourself sobering up, rubbing your arms as the embers from your cigarette glow in the darkness. “You cold?” Frankie asks, and you shake your head. You smile at his generosity, the way his face has changed to being genuinely concerned. “We’ll be heading back inside soon, anyway.”

He shrugs off his jacket, offering it to you. “By my watch, we still got another fifteen minutes ‘til you said we’d be back. I wanna make the most of them.”

You try to refuse at first, but as soon as it’s draped round your shoulders, you embrace the warmth gladly. You sneak a glance at the curve of his biceps, thick forearms, narrow waist; and avert your eyes hastily.

Frankie tells you more about himself: thirty-eight, an ex-serviceman, set up the hardware business with his buddy Santiago - one of the no-hopers of the evening. You, in turn, tell him about your administration job in the city, how it barely covers your rent, let alone any future hopes and dreams.

But you get by, you have fun, and that’s all that matters.

You decide to omit any would-be sob story about your ex-boyfriend, the way you’d had to find a place to live within weeks due to exactly how you’d broken up. You don’t want to frighten him, and you feel out of practice with flirting: a winter coat you haven’t worn for months, potential compliments and pick-up lines forgotten like screwed up receipts in the pockets.

Frankie nods his head as you talk, crushing the end of his cigarette beneath his boot. “So you’re a live-in-the-moment kinda girl,” he concludes, and you find yourself smiling. “Guess I am”.

“What about you? Free spirit?” you ask teasingly, and his shoulders roll again. “Trying to be,” he says, laughing softly, tugging his cap off his head to run a hand through the mess of curls underneath.

Oh, you’re actually enjoying this.

Frankie’s so sweet, but you know there’s something a little deeper and darker below the surface; you can tell by the way he looks at you, his eyes tracking down to your mouth, the skin you have on show. You’re suddenly, savagely glad you wore this dress tonight.

“C’mon,” Frankie murmurs after a beat, motioning to take your arm again. “Better see what kinda carnage they’re creating in there.”

You follow him, slipping his jacket from your shoulders as you go. You’re sad to say goodbye to it: it smells so good, a woodsy scent you hope will linger for a while to come.

You’re soon plunged back into a different kind of darkness: the club is sweaty and warm, but you find the lights give you nothing other than a headache this time around. Kimmy is still wrapped around Benny, the two of them entwined in an embrace so bold you can’t even look at Frankie.

He wraps his arm around you regardless, indicating a booth in the shadows. “Wanna grab a seat?”

You find that you do. Very much.

The conversation flows easily, you sipping on a vodka tonic whilst Frankie nurses a rootbeer. You talk about your lives a little more: favourite bands, foods, beach spots. You notice your shin knocking against his; you rest it there, enjoying the feeling. You can’t help but watch his throat as he drinks, the thick expanse of smooth skin visible above the neckline of his shirt. Frankie, in turn, compliments you constantly, albeit a little bashfully.

He’s so fucking cute.

Before either of you realise it, it’s 2:00am. Benny and Kimmy stumble over like a couple of teenagers, and you welcome your friend back into your arms, lipgloss kissed off and shoes held in her hand. Benny drunkenly teases you both, shoving his friend lovingly, and you notice the flush blooming on Frankie’s cheeks, the way he clears his throat, legs untangled from yours.

“You girls want a ride home?” Frankie offers, and the four of you head out to the parking lot. You hear Benny and Kimmy making plans, swapping numbers, sharing kisses. You feel suddenly awkward around Frankie since his abrupt change in body language. You find yourself wishing - again - for the confidence of your best friend.

You take the front seat next to him, trying to ignore the noises coming from the backseat; all teeth and tongue and hushed laughter. Frankie switches on the radio, Alexander O’Neal crooning softly in the cab. You stare out the window, city lights blurring in the darkness.

The journey to your place is only half an hour, but every minute stretches out languidly as you glance at Frankie handling the wheel. The way he spins it, thighs nestled beneath.. Maybe it’s because you haven’t had sex in a while, but goddamn. Every movement he makes does something to your insides.

It falls quiet in the back after a while: you turn to see Kimmy slumped on Benny’s shoulder, the two of them snoring quietly, open-mouthed. She’ll kill you in the morning for it, but you take a quick snap on your phone anyway, dying inside at the fact your first night out as a single woman has ended up like this: her asleep on her would-be paramour’s shoulder, you in the front with some insane crush on his friend.

“Thanks for this,” you offer to Frankie, clearing your throat. “S’okay, means I know you’re home safe,” he shrugs, and you stifle a laugh - you only met him a few hours ago. “You don’t need to worry about that, Frankie,” you tell him, and he chews his lip. The scruff along his jaw and sweet curve of his nose shine in the silhouette from passing headlights, and you cross your legs deliberately.

“I didn’t mean to - y’know, be so awkward back there,” he confesses, and you stay silent, hoping he’ll say more. “I’m just used to Benny giving me shit about women, telling me not to get my hopes up ‘n all that. This doesn’t really come naturally to me, so.. I’m not.. Fuck. ‘m sorry - I’m useless at this,” he sighs, slumped in his seat.

You can’t help it. You giggle, and then Frankie’s laughing too. You hold your finger to your lips, indicating your two sleeping friends behind you.

You place your hand over his, feeling the rough skin stretched over his knuckles. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” you tell him. “Benny clearly doesn’t know shit, anyway. I’ve, uh, really liked getting to know you,” you squirm, feeling a little unease settle into your belly at how childish you sound.

You have liked it. You swore to yourself you weren’t looking to date so soon after having your heart trampled on; that you’d keep it close, under wraps, nurture it back to full health before you pulled it from your chest again.

You weren’t expecting to meet Frankie.

Yet, here you are. Offering yourself up to him, because something tells you he’s worth it. Drawn helplessly to him: a moth to a flame.

“Me too,” Frankie tells you, turning the bend that leads towards your apartment. You both grin at your quiet, shared admission, and you hate that you have to say goodbye. “This is us,” you say, and Frankie pulls over, leaning across to shake Benny awake.

You catch the sliver of skin above his waistband as he stretches, the soft belly nudging at his shirt, the edge of his boxers, the bulge beneath the material. Gotta be the vodka, you remind yourself, tearing your eyes away from him. All four of you climb out, Frankie asking if you have your keys, taking Kimmy’s shoes from you so you can search in your purse.

Your friends are in their own world - Kimmy has Benny pinned against the passenger door, toying with his shirt collar, telling him she’ll give him a call in the morning. You roll your eyes at Frankie, wordlessly apologising for the stall. He laughs it off, hand on your lower back as you approach them.

You don’t miss the small gesture.

“Kim, babe? Frankie probably wants to head off now,” you tell her gently, taking her hand. “Aw, fun sucker,” Benny teases, and Frankie tuts in annoyance. “Whatever, man,” you tell him lightly, and Kimmy gives him a final kiss goodbye. You turn away, Frankie’s hands back in his pockets, just like they were a few hours ago.

“There any hope in asking for your number?” he asks, brown eyes wide and kind. You swap digits, and he leans forward to kiss you on the cheek. Frankie lingers a fraction longer than you expect him to, and you’re so close to tugging his lips to yours. It’s the closest you’ve been to him all night, and you want more.

He pulls away before you can change your mind.

“I’ll call you,” he promises, and you feel the kind of excitement that has long laid dormant inside you. You’re seeing Frankie again. The first rays of light on your face after too long a spell in the dark.

“I’ll look forward to it.”

Things burn out between Kimmy and Benny at an impressive speed. She’s at your apartment two months later, laid on her back on your bed, throwing out cheap insults you know she doesn’t really mean.

“There’s just no… what’s that thing?” she groans in frustration. “Spark?” you offer helpfully, sorting through your closet. “Yes. I mean, the sex is insane, right? But we have nothing in common. He doesn’t even try to get to really know me. Plus, I went to watch him fight, and it made me want to hurl. All that blood...” she makes a vomiting noise, and you throw a sock at her. Lovingly.

“Kimmy, you didn’t even give him time to prove himself,” you laugh, and she glares at you. “I know my worth, babe,” she sighs, flopping back down onto your sheets. “Amen, sister,” you murmur, throwing an old shirt of your ex’s into the trash pile. “Anyway, I’m starting to think I chose the wrong guy that night,” Kimmy goes on, and you pause.

“You mean Frankie?” you ask, and she hmmms in response. “He was gorgeous. It’s a shame, though. I saw him at the fight, said he’s seeing someone. Benny said he’s down bad,” she laughs, and you feel the band of tension round you snap in relief.

Down bad, huh? Interesting.

You figured you were having that kind of effect on him.

Frankie had texted you the very next morning, asking how you were feeling and if you wanted to head out for a drink sometime. You were seized with momentary panic: it’s too soon. You’d sworn yourself off of any meaningful connection, any risk to your dented confidence and wounded pride.

You were quick, however, to remind yourself of those brown eyes, warm hands, quiet laugh. Too quick.

You’re vaguely aware of Kimmy saying your name impatiently, bringing you back to the present. “Huh?” you mumble, and she stares at you. “Where’d you go? Don’t tell me you’re giving that fucking loser another second of your time,” she raises her brows, indicating Tyler’s shirt on the floor.

“I’d rather die,” you sigh dramatically, and Kimmy nods in approval. “That’s my girl. So, I’ll come over for drinks later before we head out?” she asks, and you give her the thumbs up. “Sounds good to me.”

Kimmy flashes you her signature grin: megawatt and sparkling, the one that landed Benny and several other unsuspecting people in the years you’ve been friends. She heads out, music blasting from her convertible as she goes. You shake your head fondly. You love that girl.

You’ll tell Kimmy about Frankie. You know you will. Eventually.

God, Frankie. You lay back on your bed, staring at the ceiling as you try not to spend every fucking waking moment thinking about him. He’s infectious, though: he makes you laugh, treats you so good, takes care of you, calls you his cosa linda, fucks you like nobody ever has before.

Your first date was a few days after you’d met him.

Nothing spectacular, just pizza at a place nearby Frankie swore was decent. And hell, he was right. You shared a greasy pepperoni, cheap but delicious. You didn’t care where you went with him; both of you were open about the fact you didn’t have much money. You’d never been less bothered about it in your life.

Frankie tells you - between bites - how all the cash he has goes back into the business he shares with Santi, how hard they can find it to compete with the big chain stores. He’s a little more guarded discussing his previous life as a Delta Force operator: you note the pain that clouds his eyes as he skims the surface of it, wordlessly refusing to delve any deeper.

So, you don’t push him. You let Frankie take your hand as you exit the pizzeria, thumb rubbing circles over your skin, soft kiss to your temple as he takes you home and tells you how much he enjoys being with you, asking when he can see you again.

Frankie’s happier when the two of you are at the beach the next weekend, drinking Coke out of glass bottles, stretched out on a fraying picnic blanket, talking about everything and nothing. He pulls you into the water with him, holds you against his chest, kisses you deep and slow, salt on your lips and your fingers in his curls.

You sleep together for the first time that night.

He’s so fucking meticulous about it: taking your clothes off slowly, savouring how bare and messy you are for him at the end of it, his tongue and teeth and lips driving you insane. You cling desperately to the sheets below you as Frankie makes your toes curl, your back arching as you reach to tug at his hair; his name a broken, groaning, loud mantra from your lips as your legs shake around him.

Frankie gets off on your pleasure, tearing the condom wrapper open with his teeth, eagerness like you’ve never encountered in your life. It’s a revelation. Once you start, you can’t stop. He’s big; so much more to take than you ever have before, a sweet ache between your thighs for days after.

Soon, he’s over at your apartment most evenings. He drops by with burgers after work one Friday night, and you sit cross-legged on the floor eating them straight out of the paper, sharing fries. Eighties music and golden light flood the room as the sun slides away; Frankie reaching out to swipe some ketchup from your bottom lip, sucking his thumb into his mouth afterwards, cargo shorts snug around his thighs.

It takes every ounce of your self-control not to ask him to fuck you right there and then.

Frankie asks about the tattoo he’d seen on your sternum the night before, a delicate fine-line inking of your star sign. “You believe in all that?” he smirks, tossing a fry into his mouth. “You don’t?” you raise an eyebrow, and he holds his hands up in defence. “S’long as we’re compatible, baby, I’ll believe whatever you tell me.”

Frankie spends the rest of the night showing you just how compatible you both are: hot tongue dragging over the ink beneath your breasts, nipping at the pillowy flesh he finds there, fingers digging into your ass as he pushes inside you, the two of you groaning in unison. He stays in your bed till the morning, shy smile and a dimple in his cheek as he leans over to kiss you.

“Can I take you out today?” he asks, looming above you, dark hair peppered with grey sticking out at odd angles. You think about combing your fingers through it, smoothing it down, worrying quietly about the level of intimacy you’re already sharing with him. “Sure,” you smile, and watch the creases beside his eyes deepen as he grins.

Frankie takes you on his favourite hiking trail, the two of you taking it slow, talking at length about your families as the route grows steeper. You discover he and Santi have been best friends since childhood, their mothers close since forever. You, in turn, tell him you don’t speak to your father much, but you dote on the child he has with his new wife: your baby sister.

Frankie squeezes your hand a little tighter, interlacing your fingers together. “Must be hard for you sometimes,” he says gently, and you think about it for a moment. “I mean.. I wonder why me and mom weren’t enough for him, sure. But as soon as that kiddo smiles at me, I forget all about that. She’s worth it. Even if he isn’t,” you tell him, and Frankie hums in agreement, kissing your temple.

Again, you’re rocked by the intimacy of the gesture, the way both of you have fallen so easily into soft touches and lingering glances. You know it’s naive, but you feel like you’ve known Frankie forever, like you’ve woken up to those dark eyes and broad shoulders your whole life.

One morning, on your way into the city, you decide to stop by Frankie’s hardware store with a coffee for him. Santiago finds you first, embraces you warmly, says he’s heard a lot about you. He has a twinkle in his eye as he wraps an arm around Frankie’s shoulder, hand on his chest affectionately as he introduces himself properly.

Warmth spreads through you watching how people adore him. You remember Benny’s easy teasing, how affectionate Santiago is toward him. Frankie walks you back to your car, pushes you gently into the door, taking advantage of the empty parking lot. His tongue is in your mouth, palm cradling your jaw, heat pooling in your belly. He makes that soft little groan, the one that drives you insane.

You pull away.

“You’re evil for that, Morales,” you scold him, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. “You’re the one showing up to my place of work in that goddamn skirt,” he sighs, eyes narrowing under the brim of his cap; fingers finding the band of your panties, pulling and releasing them with a gentle snap.

You’d forgotten how much he’d liked that particular skirt: you remember Frankie on his knees below you the week before, unzipping it slowly, hands dragging across your thighs. His pupils blown apart with lust as he gazed up at you; messy kisses on the bare curve of your hip, a bite that made you gasp his name.

“Mierda,” he’d moaned. “You’re a bad girl.”

Frankie repays the favour a few days later: calling by the office with your lunch, leftovers from the dinner he’d made the night before. Your team teases you when you come back sweaty and rumpled after your hour break - little do they know, he’d fucked you in the back of his truck and pocketed your underwear for good measure.

It’s brazen, bold, and fun. Just like wearing his cap whilst you rode him one time had been: his fingers digging into your waist, urging you on, telling you how fucking good you looked, that you’re his princesa.

Last night, he said he wanted to take you some place nice to eat, that he had some extra cash with nothing he’d rather spend it on than you. You’re happy anywhere with Frankie: kissing in the bed of his truck, his arms around you in the shower, wandering hand-in-hand around the farmers market, dipping your toes in a freezing cold lake together.

But, it is nice to be wined and dined sometimes. You can’t even remember the last time it happened.

The place was fancy, kitted out in low-lighting and jazz music. You wore a lemon-yellow dress: all laced-up bustier and draping skirt. You’d thrifted it, squealing at the price tag and texting Kimmy instantly. She said it’d be a crime to leave it behind, so it was yours for keeps.

You’d felt bashful watching Frankie’s eyes widen when you opened the door, looking good enough to eat in a white shirt, taut across his broad frame. No Standard Oil hat that evening - your heart melted envisioning running his fingers through his curls, floppy across his forehead. You’re fucking stunning, he’d murmured, grin warm across his features.

He’s not your boyfriend, though. A fact you’re continually reminding yourself of.

You don’t even know if you’re exclusive: Frankie never mentions anyone else, doesn’t even talk about himself all that much, unless you prompt him. His focus is all you, all the time.

Don’t you deserve that? After what you’ve been through? You deserve to enjoy the company, the sex, the feelings brewing below the surface.

What are you so afraid of?

You think of him now as you dress, the memory of his hands on you burnt into your brain, seared into your subconscious. Kimmy texts to say she’s on her way over, and you clatter downstairs in your heels, flicking the music stations over and pouring two large glasses of wine, trying to push Frankie and your worries to the back of your mind. For now.

The club is packed out.

Busier than it was when you were last here; people crammed into the booths and across the dancefloor, posted up against the bar. You and Kimmy haven’t let go of one another all night; borrowing lipliner and gum in the bathrooms, hand-in-hand as she orders shots that sizzle in your throat.

You’re stood not far from where you first encountered Frankie, and your mind drifts to what he might be doing. Snoring, you think. Lying on his back, hand flat on his chest, sparse hair you can feel on your cheek beneath it. You check your phone: 11:23pm. There’s a text from him.

Have a great night baby. Let me know if you need me x

You know he means if you need a ride home, someone to call in the cab. Yet, panic bubbles inside you at the sentence, threatening to spill over, poisoning your blissful tipsy state. A legacy left by your ex-boyfriend, the fear you try to squash down each time Frankie takes your hand, presses his lips to yours, makes your back arch beneath him.

Do you need him?

Of course not. It’s not like you’re in love with him or anything. Right?

Tyler devastated you. You remember your legs trembling as you sat on the side of the bath one night as he slept, curiosity getting the better of you. His phone was in your shaking hands as you scrolled through scores of messages between him and his work colleague, Melissa.

He’d been your boyfriend for five years. You were ready to move in together, take his last name if he asked. Yet here he was, hanging you out to fucking dry; telling Melissa everything he wanted to do to her, had done to her, how horny he was for her. You were so fucking embarrassed, especially when he’d tried to convince you it was all in your head. How foolish you’d been.

Kimmy had distracted you through it all, kept you going. You’d put in work yourself, piecing your life back together: the person you were before Tyler, sitting with the feelings and letting them wash over you till they didn’t sting so bad anymore.

Frankie frightens you. He could pull a single thread and you’d unravel, back at square one on a boardgame nobody wants to play.

Had it all been too much? Too fast?

“Hey, babe!” Kimmy pulls on your shoulder, and you’re spinning out of your reverie. “You see Sarah’s here?! Sarah from high school?” she tells you excitedly, and you smile weakly. “Shit, no way,” you manage, and you’re pulled over into a group of girls you haven’t seen for years; all air kisses and squealing over an engagement ring.

Something you could have had.

“Kimmy,” you shout over the music, hand on her arm. “You okay if I take five outside?”

She nods, and you follow the same path Frankie led you down all those weeks ago; his hand clasping yours, eyes twinkling in the low lighting.

You feel so strongly that Frankie won’t hurt you, yet your mind’s so corrupted by what Tyler did to you: waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to reveal his true colours.

Yet, you think you’ve seen them already.

The blue ocean Frankie held you in, kissing you deeply as his fingers dug into your thighs, holding you close. The orange sky of the sunset from the bed of his truck, wrapped in blankets as he told you the craziest shit he’d seen as a pilot. The thick green of the forests you’ve hiked in together, the way he’d drag you by the hand when you were puffing out of breath because you just had to see the view.

The dark brown of his eyes; ones you swear are flecked with molten gold. The pink of his lips; the way they curve into a smile when you open the door to him. The yellow of the sunlight that creeps through the blinds in the mornings, your naked body pressed to his, sore and sweaty and satisfied. The black sky you first spoke to him under, littered with faint stars, just like it is tonight.

Each time, you worried the water might be too cold, hike too steep, sunset too boring. Frankie kept proving you wrong: every experience more vibrant, saturated and warm than the last. You owe it to yourself - and to him - to trust him.

You call him without hesitating, shivering on the sidewalk. Frankie answers on the second ring.

“Hey, princesa. You okay?”

“Yeah,” you smile, feeling your anxiety dissipating a little at the sound of his voice, velvety and deep. “I, uh, think I’m just about done tonight, though. Was thinking about calling a cab home.”

You hear him moving, shifting in his sheets. “It’s up to you, but I’d rather come get you. Can drop you straight home, ‘f you want,” Frankie offers, and you bite into your lip to stop your grin from widening. “So you know I’m home safe?” you manage to tease, recalling the conversation you had the night you met him.

“Think I’m pretty much qualified to worry about that now,” Frankie chuckles lowly through the phone into your ear. “Can stop for some fries, and you can stay here?” He offers, and you close your eyes, thinking there’s nowhere else you’d rather be in the world than right there.

To your horror, you feel tears threatening, and you swallow thickly to force the emotion back down. Frankie notes your silence. “Sweetheart? What’s up?” he probes gently, and you tap your foot in annoyance at yourself for worrying him, taking a deep breath.

“‘m all good, baby. Promise. See you in twenty?” you ask, and Frankie tells you he’ll see you soon, as quick as he can. “Kimmy need a ride?” he asks, and you make it your mission to go inside and find her.

You spot her easily, tell her an abridged version of your plans. You decide now isn’t the time to tell her about Frankie: not in a club full of people who remind you of Tyler, when you’re teetering on a knife edge with your emotions.

She asks if you’re alright, if you mind her staying out: they’re talking about an after-party somewhere, booking Ubers to the suburbs. You tell her it’s not your vibe - not tonight - but you can see she wants to carry on. She won’t, though. Not without checking with you first.

Kimmy promises to call you in the morning, that you’ll go and grab brunch. “You sure you’re okay, babe?” she asks one final time, squeezing you close. She makes you swear to let her know when you’re home safe, and you request the same.

Frankie’s there waiting for you when you leave the club, just like he said he would be.

He’s leant up against his truck: long legs in denim jeans, an old flannel stretched across his shoulders. He’s smoking languidly, gaze on you beneath the cap he never takes off. That smile you’ve come to know and love unfurls across Frankie’s features as he reaches for you, pulls you into his arms.

“Hi,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. “You look so beautiful.”

It’s such a simple phrase. But it means so much more to you coming from Frankie: older and kinder than anyone you’ve been with before him.

Your fingers grab at the collar of his shirt, your lips finding his. You slide your tongue into his mouth and he responds, huge hands sliding to your waist and squeezing. You moan a little as the kiss deepens, and Frankie pulls back, eyes searching your face.

“Hey, hey. Everything okay?” he asks, taking your jaw in his hands, thumbs stroking your skin gently. “There’s, uh, some stuff I wanna tell you about. From my past, I mean,” you sigh, watching the crease deepen in Frankie’s brow at your words. “You’re fucking married, aren’t you?” he grimaces. You smack him lightly on the chest and he chuckles.

“I’m serious, Frankie,” you huff, and he relents. “I.. Didn’t have a good experience with my ex. Cheated on me with his colleague, gaslighted me about it; the works. I guess you could say he wasn’t a good guy, right? And I think I’m kinda fucked up as a result,” you tell him, voice trembling. Frankie’s eyes are wide and pleading, but he’s quiet, waiting for you to continue.

“I don’t wanna carry this on without you knowing that some things might be hard for me. If I ever hold back a little bit, come across like I don’t trust you..” you trail off, fingering the button of his shirt awkwardly. “Baby,” Frankie grips your wrists, “you don’t gotta explain anything to me. Not now - not ever - not if you don’t want to. But you should know, none of this is your fault.”

“So, we take it day by day. We keep talking, keep being open, you let me know if something’s too much, or I’m not giving you enough. You know what I mean?” Frankie asks, tilting your chin to look at him. His thumb swipes away a stray tear from your eye, and he kisses you softly; barely there before he pulls away.

“Living in the moment, right? I told you I was gonna try,” he chuckles weakly. “I’m not going anywhere, mi amor. I like you too damn much,” he admits.

You kiss him again, taking his cap in your hand so you can feel his curls, pressing your lips to the bare patch in the scruff along his jaw. With Frankie’s hand in yours, the pain begins to fade away. You’re sure it won’t be long till it’s gone forever. You smile at him.

“Let’s go home.”

This is so good!!!! Loved the detail and the way it ended?! 😳🫠

[Sin]ema- ex fiance!Frankie Morales x fat! female reader

Main Masterlist | Frankie Morales Masterlist

Paring: ex husband!Frankie x fat/curvy/plus size! female reader

Summary: You are unhappy in your marriage but trying to hang on. When you ask your husband to spend more time with you, he thinks a movie date is in order. You don't expect to run into your ex fiance, Frankie, and his new wife there.

Rating: E for EXPLICIT MDNI 18+

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: infidelity, unprotected PIV, oral sex f!receiving, creampie, body insecurity, smoking- there are a few things I'm not tagging so as to not spoil them but they are tame.

Notes: I wrote this a while back in response to that dumbass anon and for some reason I just totally forgot about it!

When you told your husband that you wanted to spend more time together, this isn’t what you had in mind. You were hoping for something more like dinner. Out at a restaurant or a quiet night in, it didn’t matter to you. You just wanted to talk. Something your husband has no interest in. As evidenced by the fact that he brought you to the one place you couldn’t talk for your date.  Some days you find yourself wondering if this is all you’ll have to look forward to for the rest of your life. 

You only married him because that was the logical next step. Your whole relationship was just one milestone to the next, as dictated by the expectations society has set for you. Especially for women who look like you. Growing up in the 90s meant you were bombarded daily by the “heroin chic” look that was on the cover of every magazine. You could count the ribs of the models. By the time you hit high school, you had already been taught, however indirectly, that you weren’t pretty enough. There was too much of you. The fat girls in all the rom-coms were always the comic relief. The one someone had to “take one for the team” with. The one who had to settle for what she was given. 

To be fair, your husband never made you feel this way. He was genuinely interested in you. In who you are as a person. But somehow, it always felt like he loved you in spite of. Sure, you were what people would politely call “chubby,” but he loved you anyway. You had learned to love yourself years ago. Not in spite of your body, but because of it. Stretch marks, cellulite and all. You probably wouldn’t even know the difference between someone loving you just the way you are, and someone loving you anyway , if it hadn’t been for Frankie. 

Frankie had been the first man to see you for exactly who you were. Not someone who he could love if you just lost those twenty little pounds. Not someone he could diet and exercise you into being. Just you. And goddamn had he loved you. Every inch. Every roll. Every stretch mark. He reveled in the softness of your body. He worshiped at the altar that lay between your plump thighs. 

But, such things weren’t meant to last. You were engaged to be married, but something happened to him after his first tour overseas. When he came home he wasn’t the same man he had been before. He didn’t laugh as much. His eyes had a far-off look to them. As if he wasn’t really present anymore. He fucked you with an urgency, a fervor, that he never had before. Held on too tightly. Almost like you’d float away if he didn’t. Or he would, you were never really sure which. 

When he came home from his second tour he called off the wedding. Told you that you deserved better. He didn’t believe you when you said there was nobody better for you than him. When you think about what your life has become you almost want to say “joke’s on him.” Is it really, though? Perhaps the joke has always been on you. 

It feels strange to think of him after all these years, seemingly out of the blue. Especially since, or maybe because, you are concerned about the state of your marriage. You’d heard he got married a few years ago. You wonder if he ever thinks of you. Finally, it's your turn to hand your tickets to the theater employee. You don’t even remember the name of the film you are seeing. Some action movie you have no desire to actually watch. At least the previews will be good. 

You walk silently, hand in hand, with your husband to the concessions counter. You wait in line, shoulder to shoulder, without so much as a word passing between you. When you get to the counter he orders for you, a small drink and  popcorn each. When you get your snacks and turn to head for the theater, you are struck still. There he is. Right in front of you. Frankie. 

Even with the hat, you’d know him anywhere. Standing next to him, with her arm threaded through his, is one of the most gorgeous women you have ever seen. Their heads are bent together in laughter. He was always funny. The diamond on her finger reflects the bright lights of the theater lobby. You had played sick and stayed in your bed for three days when the news reached you that he had gotten married. You had found yourself wondering, what does she have that I don’t?

Now, standing before them, you think you might know. She’s all the things you knew you would never be. As much as you hate to think it of him, maybe this is the reason he called off your wedding. You didn’t even know he moved back. Your husband tugs your arm, pulling you from your thoughts. Just before you turn to walk away, Frankie’s eyes snap up and lock on yours. They widen in surprise and his mouth opens in a soft ‘o.’  

You move to walk away, intending to ignore his presence altogether, but he speaks your name. It’s so quiet you almost think you imagined it, until he repeats it, a little louder this time. Your husband nudges you with his elbow and gives you a curious look. Yo know you probably seem like a fucking idiot right now but you just can’t seem to make your mouth form words. 

Frankie catches on quickly and holds his hand out to your husband. 

“Hi there, Frank Morales.”

Your husband’s eyebrows fly towards his hairline as he recognizes the name, and its significance. He extends his hand to return the gesture. Frankie gestures towards his wife and introduces her as well, though you forget her name the second he says it. You shake her hand politely, giving her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. She doesn’t react to your name the way your husband did to Frankie’s. Maybe he never told her about you. Maybe you’ve made the whole thing out to be more serious than it ever was. Than he ever was. You nod along to the small talk you aren’t actually listening to. You can’t hear anything over the pounding of your heart inside your ears. 

Your husband shakes Frankie’s hand again and waves to his wife. You give her a slight wave and lock eyes with Frankie once more. There’s a sad look in his eyes and just maybe, a flash of regret. The corner of his mouth turns up in a small smile as he puts his arm around his wife’s shoulder and heads in the opposite direction. 

Once settled into the packed theater, you are thankful for the darkness. When the movie begins you don’t try as hard to hold the tears back. What are the odds that he would be here of all places, of all nights? You don’t pay any attention to the movie though you stare straight ahead at the screen. You couldn’t recap it if your life were dependent upon it, beyond the occasional explosion and maybe a nip slip or too. 

Suddenly it feels as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. Your heart races and your face heats up. The room feels much smaller, the walls closer than they had been before. You take in a couple of deep, slow breaths, trying to quiet the unease that has taken root inside your body. The little voice nagging at the back of your mind, posing the question you haven’t allowed yourself in years. What if?

You need to get out of here. Get some fresh air. Your husband barely acknowledges your presence as you scoot past him, with a hushed excuse of “bathroom.” You climb down the carpeted steps and glance at your phone. There’s about thirty minutes left in the film and you wonder if he would notice if you just slipped back in just before the credits roll. 

You splash water on your face in the bathroom, drying it and your hands with a paper towel. You look in the mirror and fuss with your hair for a moment. You readjust the thigh high socks and pull your skirt down just a bit. When you walk out of the bathroom into the long hallway you look first left, then right. Left will take you back to the theater, back to the movie. Back to your husband. Right will take you out the side exit. To the alley on the side of the multiplex. 

The hydraulic door makes a loud click when it shuts behind you. A whiff of cigarette smoke invades your nostrils and you turn. Right there, next to the door, is Frankie. His back is against the wall and his right knee is bent, cowboy boot resting on the brick. He blows out another cloud of smoke and throws the cigarette butt on the ground. It rolls, embers still red and smoking, until it hits a crack in the sidewalk. You stand there and watch it until the tip turns dark and the last of the smoke wafts away into the night. 

“Hey there, bonita ”

You try to swallow past the thick lump in your throat as the heat once again flares inside your body. The sticky humidity of the night has your socks clinging to your thighs. The smoldering look in your ex’s eyes causes your panties to grow damp beneath your skirt. He pushes off the wall and takes a step towards you. You are once again frozen in place, unable to think of anything to say. He pulls his cap off by the bill and runs his fingers through his messy curls. You can still remember how your fingers feel tangled in them. How they would tickle the skin of your chest when he would fall asleep wrapped around you. 

“Guess I’ll leave you be. It was good to see you.” He spins on his heel and turns to head back inside. He gives you one last look, brown eyes as sad as you’ve ever seen them. 

Say something you fucking idiot!  

“Frankie. Wait.” 

He turns back around and closes the distance between you in just a few strides. His body crowds yours and you take a step back. Another half step and your back hits the brick. You suck in a deep breath and his arm extends, bringing his hand to rest on the wall beside your head. 

“I was beginning to think you weren’t gonna speak to me, baby.” He rasps, inching his face even closer to yours. 

“I didn- I just- I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” He places his hand at the hinge of your jaw and runs his thumb across your cheek. When you lean into his touch, closing your eyes, he moves his body even closer. 

“I thought maybe you didn’t miss me.” He holds your face just a little firmer, his lips barely brush over yours. “Not even a little bit.”  He smells like cigarettes and movie theater butter. 

You shouldn’t be doing this. Neither of you should. But you just can’t stop yourself from leaning forward a bit, hoping to catch his lips between your own. But just before you can, he pulls back. You open your mouth to protest but he places his finger over your lips. He grabs your hand and pulls you further down the alley. 

There is no light back here save for a single yellowing bulb, and Frankie pulls his phone out of his pocket and turns the flashlight on. Once he’s pulled you far enough away from the entrance to the alley, and any prying eyes, he pushes you back against the wall. He must have already gotten his fill of teasing because he immediately captures your lips in a ravenous kiss and presses his thigh right against your center. You grind down on him while your hands move automatically to his hair, knocking his cap to the ground. 

His hands go to your hips and he moans when the soft flesh yields under his touch. He inches his thigh even closer and you give his curls a tug. He releases your lips and groans low in your ear. His hands slide up your side, caressing the flesh that lives there. He drags them back down, dropping to his knees on the concrete. His fingers dip under your skirt, exposing the tops of your socks. His nostrils flare as he pops the top against your thigh. 

He lifts your skirt higher, until it sits up on your hips and he can see that you are already soaked for him. He buries his nose in the fabric, pressing it into your mound. The wet cotton is cool against your skin but the sensation is opposed by the hot breath he lets out. He inhales deeply and moans against you. He looks up at you and you are already so worked up, just one touch from him is liable to push you over the edge. 

“Fuck, I missed you bonita .”  

Before you can even respond he lifts your leg, resting your thigh on his shoulder. He scoots forwards on his knees until he can’t get any closer. He bites your mound softly through the fabric of your panties and your knees begin to wobble. He pulls them to the side with the hand that isn’t cradling your thigh against his face. His stubble pricks the soft skin there as he presses his tongue lightly against your clit. He doesn’t move it yet, just holds it there, savoring the taste of you. Reveling in the way it throbs against his tongue. 

Only when you start squirming and tugging on his hair does he finally move. He swirls his tongue in slow, precise circles around your clit. He still knows your body so well, even after all this time. He knows exactly how to have you dripping for him, whining for him. 

“Fuck! Frankie, please. ” You beg. 

“I know, baby. You need more.” He whispers. He stands from the ground and you whine at the loss of his mouth. “Turn around.” He instructs. You pout but do as he says. You know that whatever he has in mind, he’s gonna make you feel good. 

“Put your hands on the wall.” You look at him over your shoulder and he just cocks his eyebrow expectantly. “Do it.” 

You place your hands against the wall and your ass sticks out. Frankie grabs the waistband of your panties and drags them down your legs, lifting your feet one at a time for you to step out of them. You expect to hear the clinking of his belt but instead you feel his hand land a swat on your ass. From your position, you miss the look of delight as the flesh ripples from his touch. He grabs a handful of ass in each hand and spreads your cheeks apart. He resumes his previous activities. Long, slow swipes of his tongue. Through your folds and around your clit.

It doesn’t take long to have you teetering on the precipice. He still recognizes the signals your body gives him. He knows you are close. His fingers fly to your clit and his tongue breaches your entrance. His exaltation is rewarded with the feeling of your walls fluttering around his tongue. He laps up everything you have to give him and only stops when you bat his hand away. He plants a kiss on your ass cheek and lands another, softer swat on the other before he rises to his feet. His hands return to your hips and he presses his denim covered bulge against your asscrack. 

“Feel what you do to me, baby?” He asks as he pulls back onto him. Still coming down from your peak you can only nod your head in response. “I think he missed you even more than I did.” 

His hands leave you once more and the telltale sound of his belt being unbuckled and his zipper coming down fills the alley. He rests his cock, thick and uncut, on your bare asscrack. He reaches around you and runs his fingers through your folds, gathering your release. You whimper at his touch, aching for him to be inside you. 

He rubs the head in between your cheeks, down past your asshole until it catches on your entrance. Slowly, he nudges himself inside of your cunt. You’ve had bigger dicks before, longer ones. But you’ve never had one as thick as Frankie. Just on the edge of too big , he stretches you open around him. Your walls give way to him and he buries himself inside you. 

“ Oh fuck, baby!” He cries out, unable to keep his voice down.  

“You’re gonna get us caught.” You turn and look over your shoulder and are treated to the sight of the near-feral look in his eyes. Your insides turn liquid when winks at you. He’s just like you remembered he was, before the war took him away from you, devilish little grin and all. His hands move to the spot where your hips and ass meet. He grips you firmly, fingers digging into the soft flesh. 

He fucks into you with the same kind of desperation as the last time you were together. He knows this moment together is fleeting and now you understand the urgency he was feeling back then. With your hands planted firmly on the wall, you meet his every thrust. The slick sound of skin against skin fills the darkness in the alley. Your thighs begin to burn and Frankie’s pace falters. A half a dozen or so thrusts and he’s cursing out into the night. 

“Shit! Ohfuckohshit baby!” He cries and you are so fucked out you can’t even form a coherent thought. He spills inside of you and the twitching of his cock and the way he sounds when whimpering is dragging you over the edge again. He pulls out of you and his come slips out, falling to the pavement in thick globs. He spins you around by your elbow and your back is up against the wall again. 

He lays his head on your shoulder with his nose buried in your neck. Your fingers thread in his hair once more and you just stand there, together. Your chests heave against each other and you just enjoy the feel of each other, the smell. But nothing gold can stay and the moment breaks. You shuffle silently in the near dark, righting your clothes and deciding what to say or not say. Frankie picks his hat up from the ground and dusts it off with the same fingers that were buried inside you moments ago. You pull your panties back over your shoes and up your legs. They stick to your skin from your own arousal and the come that still dribbles out of you. You both avoid the other’s face. 

You walk hand in hand back down the alley until you reach where the light is. When you drop his hand he finally looks at you. 

“I’m not sure what to say here.” He admits and for the first time tonight you cannot read his expression

“It was good to see you.” you reply, mirroring his earlier sentiment. You walk out of the alley and back to the theater. 

“ Bonita , wait.” He calls after you. You slow down briefly, but square your shoulders and continue on. 

You use the bathroom and try to clean yourself up as much as possible before sliding back into your seat. Your husband leans over the armrest. “You okay”? He asks, never taking his eyes off the screen. 

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You take a sip of your soda, now mostly watered down. 

“You took a while.” He points out.

“Long line.” He doesn’t even acknowledge your response, more focused on the film’s climax. 

The credits roll after a few minutes and you stand. Your shoes stick to the floor in a way you hadn’t noticed before. Your husband grabs your hand at the end of the row and leads you down the steps. In the lobby you see Frankie and his wife coming out of their theater. She’s snuggled up under his arm, in the place that you used to call home. You and Frankie meet gazes for a moment and you both quickly look away. 

On the way home, you feign interest in your husband’s recap of the film and its best scenes. You nod your head and interject with an occasional “mhmm.” he holds your hand the whole way home, rubbing his thumb along your fingers affectionately. Once home, you get into the shower right away, wanting nothing more than to wash Frankie off of your body, out of your body. The smell of him, the feel, the taste. You fucked up. This shouldn’t have happened. The last thing you ever want to do is hurt your husband. Or break up Frankie’s marriage. 

By the time you get dressed and walk to your bed, your husband is already asleep. His face looks so peaceful. If only he knew. 

A few months later

You haven’t spoken to Frankie since that night at the movies. To be honest, you weren’t expecting to. He must have his own share of guilt and regret from that night. Yet, here you sit at a cafe on the opposite side of town. You sip your water and watch the door. You check the time on your phone even though you know it will show that only a minute or two has passed since the last time you looked. 

Finally, that mop of brown curls hidden under his ever present baseball cap appears. He looks around the small dining area for you and his face lights up when he finds you. You give him a small wave and he starts towards your table. When he reaches you he bends down and kisses your cheek, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to do. 

He’s all smiles when he opts for the chair right next to you, as opposed to the one across. He places his arm on the back of your chair and his fingers skim along your shoulder. 

“I’m happy you called, Bonita. ” 

“I was surprised to find your number in the pocket of my skirt.” You admit. You almost threw it away a dozen times in the weeks after that night.

“I was hoping you would use it.”

“I really needed to talk to you.” You fidget with silverware on the table nervously and Frankie’s brows knit in concern. 

“What’s wrong, baby?”

You reach into the pocket of your jacket and close your fingers around the ziploc bag nestled safely in there. You hesitate a moment before pulling it out and setting it on the table. 

“What’s this?” He asks, picking it up. It only takes a moment for his brain to catch up. “Shit.” He says under his breath as he takes in the contents. 

Funny how something so small, just a couple of pieces of pink and white plastic, can mean something so big. 

“Shit.” He repeats, staring at the bag as that little pink plus sign stares right back at him. 

since tags are being fucky again I'm going to discontinue my taglist for a while. follow me over at @ramble-on-fics and turn on post notifications for updates!

Friday Night

Summary: First time Frankie tells you he loves you and finally meeting the boys.

Part of the Parents to Lovers series, set between Paint with Me and Between Us

Warnings/Tags: MDNI, GO ON GET! Cuteness, little splash of smut, oral M!receiving, anxious reader, cussing, I think that's it but if anyone sees something I should add that I forgot let me know!

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday!!! Thank you so very much @beefrobeefcal, my fellow Frankie obsessed friend for taking a look at this and continuously helping me with my writing. @endlessthxxghts for also taking a look at this and offering your expertise much appreciated bb! Last but not least, @jay-zzle GUURRRLLLLL!!! Moodboards(like this one), story ideas, screaming with me about Pedro, thank you for meeting my delulu at the same level. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Masterlist||AO3 Link||Parents to Lovers

dividers provided by @saradika-graphics

“I’m so close,” Frankie hisses, gripping the couch cushion, knuckles turning white with the force. His cock twitches in your mouth, your hands feeling the tension in his thighs as you bob along his length, eyes looking up to watch him. His eyebrows scrunch together, chest heaving, his neck and face flushed with a crimson color.

He groans, watching your swollen lips wrapped around him as he comes into your mouth. 

“I love you.”

Your eyes widen at his words as you swallow every drop with a hum. Releasing his length with a soft pop, you crawl into his lap. You couldn't help but let your smile spread across your face. Leave it to you and your luck to have the man you are smitten with admit he loves you as you make him come with your mouth. 

Frankie's eyes remain heavy lidded as he watches you with a half-smile tugging at his lips.

"So," you giggle, walking your fingers up his chest with a cocked eyebrow. "You love me, huh?”

He grabs the back of your neck, smashing his mouth against yours in a desperate kiss.

“That’s not exactly how I wanted to tell you, but yeah,” Frankie says, neck and cheeks flushing with warmth even more.

“Hmm,” you laugh, “What a way to let a girl know.”

“It’s true though, ya know? I do love you. Definitely didn’t want it to come out that way, had thought of a better way to tell you but shit happens,” Frankie says with a shrug.

“I love you too.”

“Yeah?” he asks with a grin, “So, does that mean you’d want to meet the guys finally?”

The men are more so brothers to him than friends. He’s brought up introducing you to them before, but it just seemed too soon. It’s been five months, and things seem to be going in a more serious direction. You’ve tried to put it off, though now it seems like it might be the right time.

—

Frankie: Sitter just got here. Headed your way 😘

It’s Friday night, you’re finally going to meet Frankie’s friends, the men who mean just as much to him as Missy. Dressed in your favorite jeans, your lucky AC/DC shirt, and your sneakers, you’re pacing outside on the sidewalk waiting for Frankie to arrive.

“You’ve got this,” you mutter to yourself. If anyone were to see you they’d probably think you were nuts but you didn’t care; your nerves were getting the better of you, the voice inside your head making all sorts of suggestions like, why you picked that outfit or that you’re underdressed. “Stop that, you’re meeting them at a bar for fuck sakes,” you hiss at yourself.

You hear Frankie’s truck approaching and stop your pacing. It’s darker out but you can still see him through the windshield, that standard oil ball cap on, and the wide grin on his face when he sees you. He stops beside the sidewalk, leaning over the center console to push the passenger side door open for you.

“Didn’t think you’d be waiting outside for me,” he laughs, as you get in the cab of his truck.

“Nervous,” you shrug, giving him a quick kiss before buckling in.

“Nervous?” Frankie asks, perplexed, “About what?”

“Just nervous they aren’t going to like me,” you say quietly, picking at the skin around your thumbnail.

“Baby,” Frankie says, grabbing your hand, “You make me happy and they know that. That’s all they care about. No need to worry about anything.”

You let out a breath, squeezing his hand. You’re already feeling more calm now that you’re with Frankie. 

—

It was a short drive to the bar they frequent the most. Frankie’s told you many stories about this bar and their shenanigans there. As you enter the bar you can feel some of the tension leaving your body. It’s a nice little place, not very well-lit but it gives off a comforting vibe. There’s a jukebox in the corner, a rough-looking gentleman behind the bar, and a table where you see three men beginning to stand, waving at you and Frankie.

“Fish!” A tall blonde shouts, “You finally brought your girl!”

“I did!” Frankie says, his hand at your lower back guiding you over to his friends, “Finally talked her into meeting you assholes.”

Frankie began laughing and giving hugs to his friends before you all sat at the table.

“Alright babe, this is Will, Santi, and Benny,” Frankie says pointing to each man, who in turn raises their hand.

“So he had to convince you to meet us?” Will asked, raising his eyebrow.

“It wasn’t really like that,” you laugh, “I was just nervous is all.”

“We don’t bite,” Santi said with a smile, “Well not all of us,” he added, glancing at Benny.

“It was one fucking time. Will you let it go?” Benny grumbled, crossing his arms, “I told you if you didn’t let me go I was going to do it.”

“I’m gonna get a beer,” Frankie said, nudging your arm, “Want anything?”

“Margarita, please.”

“Sure thing,” he said, kissing your temple before leaving the table.

“So,” Will started, leaning closer to the table, “You get along with Missy?”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Santi murmured, “Ironhead, leave her alone. Remember meeting Nora at Missy’s birthday party last month?”

“Nora?” Benny asked, whipping his head towards Santi, “The one that hit me in the nuts with the water balloon?”

“She did what?!” You asked, “I’m so sorry!”

“Guys, this is Nora’s mom,” Santi explained, gesturing towards you.

“Oh fuck! I forgot you’re a MILF!” Benny exclaimed, earning him a smack from Will to the back of the head.

“Here you go, babe,” Frankie said, setting your margarita down in front of you. Immediately grabbing it to take a drink, hoping it soothes your nerves after that small interrogation from Will.

—

The conversation and drinks flow as you hear more stories about Frankie, Santi, Benny, and Will. From their time in the army and their many adventures in life after. You learn that the men have been there a lot for Frankie, his journey as a single dad, and the struggles he’s dealt with. It’s apparent that Missy is a big part of their lives just as she is in Frankie’s. They each spoke fondly of her and how much they adore her.

“I’ll be back,” Frankie grunts, standing up with a stretch, “Bout to piss myself.”

“Please don’t,” Santi laughs, “I don’t have a spare pair of pants this time.”

You give Santi a curious look as Frankie glares at him shaking his head, making his way to the bathroom.

“Story for another time, hermosa,” Santi says with a wicked grin. 

“What’s the deal with you and Frankie?” Will blurts out, once Frankie is out of earshot.

“Yeah,” Benny agrees, “What’s the deal?”

“Not quite sure what you mean,” you start, “But if you’re asking what we are, he’s my boyfriend and I’m his girlfriend?”

“No, we get that,” Will replies with a sigh, “What I mean is what are your intentions with him? Where do you see this going?”

“Jesus christ, Will,” Santi scolds, “You need to leave her alone with the intense questions!”

“I’m just a concerned friend,” Will snaps, then turns towards you, “Do you see this lasting long term or is this just a fling?”

“Well,” you start, “It’s not just a fling by any means. I love Frankie. I know you are looking out for him and are protective, I can respect that. No need to worry though, the last thing I would want is Frankie’s heart to be broken or mine.”

“Do you get along with Missy?” Benny pipes in, “You never really answered that question earlier.”

“Missy is such a sweetheart. I have her over at my house all the time to play with Nora and she loves it when she gets to stay the night,” you smile thinking about the last slumber party the girls had, baking cookies together making a mess of your kitchen, “She’s a cool kid but we haven’t told the girls yet. We want to wait until we’re more sure of where things are going if you’re concerned about that.”

Will and Benny nod, listening to what you have to say. Santi gives you a warm smile.

“Told you guys,” Santi hums, taking a swig from his beer, “Why would you question anything when Frankie’s been so positive when he talks about her?”

“Rose-tinted glasses my friend, rose-tinted glasses,” Will replies, “We’ve all been there.”

“Hey guys, I’m back,” Frankie says, taking his place beside you, “Sorry, sitter called.”

“Missy okay?” you ask, concern etching your face.

“Yeah, yeah,” Frankie smiles, brushing his hand along your shoulder, “Just wanted to tell me good night.”

“She’s so sweet,” Will smiles fondly.

“She can be,” Frankie laughs, “So did I miss anything while I was gone?”

“Not much,” Will replies, nodding his head towards you with a smile, “Finally got yourself a good one Fish.”

Frankie smiles at you, tips of his ears going a slight pink, and he nods, “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

Play Date Hookup

Summary: Frankie arrives early to pick up Missy.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MINORS DNI, Sexting, being parents, unprotected piv, creampie

A/N: Thank you very much @beefrobeefcal and @strang3lov3 for lending your eyes on this one ❤️ @jay-zzle basically makes all the moodboards for me(with the exception of a few) and continues to surprise me over and over again with her talents! 😍 ilysm!!!

Masterlist||Parents to Lovers||AO3

divider by @saradika-graphics

“Down the hall and it’s the last door on the left,” Benny points, and grumbling in response,  Frankie makes his way towards Benny’s new bedroom. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Benny,” Frankie mutters, carrying the box Will shoved into his arms, “The fuck do you have in here? Weights?”

Frankie makes it to Benny’s room, barely able to hold the box any longer before it falls to the floor, the contents spilling out onto the hardwood floor.

“Fuck,” Frankie mutters, whipping around to make sure no one followed him in to see the box fumble, wiping his forearm across his sweaty brow he looks down at the mess he has to pick up. Playboys. Hundreds of playboys spilled out of the box.

After picking one up, Frankie quietly makes his way to the door, peering out to see if anyone is coming before closing the door and browsing the dirty magazine. He finds a model that slightly resembles you and his cock twitches, smirking as he pulls out his phone.

Frankie: You busy?

You: Making the girls lunch

Frankie: Thinking about you

You: Yeah? What about me?

Frankie: Oh ya know 🐱

You: Francisco! Naughty, naughty 😈 

Frankie: Wanna eat your pussy so bad baby

You: How about I ride you instead?

Frankie: Fuuuuuuck I’m supposed to be helping Benny move and now I’ve got a fucking boner

You: Show me? 😏

Frankie sighs, looking down at the tent in his jeans. Fuck it, he thinks, undoing his jeans. He slides them down to the middle of his thighs and moves his boxers down just enough that his cock springs free. He holds his dick in one hand and his phone in the other, getting the perfect angle.

“Hey man, there’s mor-“ Santi comes barging into the room, “What the fuck?”

“Fuck!” Frankie says, turning around, and pulling up his pants.

“What’s going on?” Will asks coming up the hallway.

“Fish is taking a pic of his dick!” Santi hollers out laughing.

“Fuck off!” Frankie huffs, buttoning and zipping his pants back up. His face feels like it’s on fire with how red it must be, turning around all three of them standing there looking at him.

“Fish, you’re supposed to be helping me move!” Benny laughs, “Not sexting your girl!”

“Ha. Ha.” Frankie mocks, “Lady gets what the lady wants,” he shrugs.

The guys continue to laugh, shaking their heads.

“Come on Fish,” Will says, “Let’s get the rest of this shit done and maybe you can leave early for your girl.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Frankie grumbles, looking at the pic he took before sending it to you.

Frankie: [image attached] I hope you know I love you because I just got fucking caught since you wanted a dick pic so bad  😜

You: Mmmm I love you too babe 😘

—

“Girls! Lunchtime!”

Frankie had volunteered to help Benny move into his new place which meant Missy was hanging out with you and Nora until he was done. Nora and Missy come bounding into the kitchen, sitting down at their plates and digging into the bag of chips on the table to pile on their plates.

“Hungry?” You ask with a laugh.

Missy and Nora nod while grabbing a handful of chips to shove in their mouths.

“How much more time do we have?” Nora asks with a mouthful.

“Sweetie, don’t talk with food in your mouth.”

“My bad,” Nora says, while Missy giggles.

You glance at your watch checking the time before picking up your sandwich.

“Looks like you girls have about an hour left before Missy’s dad comes to get her.”

“Can we play in the sprinkler after we eat?!”

“Can we?!” Missy asks with the same puppy dog eyes as her father.

“I guess that would be okay,” you shrug, “you can just borrow Nora’s old swimsuit, it should fit.”

“Yes!” Both girls shriek in triumph, picking up their sandwiches and taking big bites to try and finish faster.

“Hey now, slow down,” you murmur after taking a bite of your sandwich, trying to cover your mouth with your hand.

“Momma,” Nora says, “Don’t talk with food in your mouth!”

—

The girls are outside running through the sprinkler while you clean up the kitchen from lunch. You hear your ringtone blaring just as you finish putting dishes in the dishwasher. The picture of Frankie from your first date shows up on the screen, causing a grin to spread across your face.

“Hello?”

“Hey babe,” Frankie says, even though you can’t see him you can hear the smile on his face.

“Hey babe! Ooo-la-la!” You hear in the background along with someone moaning, “Oh Fish!” And obnoxious kissing sounds.

“Fuck off!” Frankie grumbles as the background noise gets softer and softer, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s all good,” you laugh, “How are the guys?”

“Being assholes,” Frankie grunts, “but they also wanted me to forward their hellos”

“Tell them I say the same and that I don’t call you Fish,” you say, unable to wipe the grin off your face.

“No you do not,” Frankie purrs into the receiver, “Miss you baby.”

“Frankie,” you groan, “Don’t start that.”

“Start what?” He asks with fake shock in his tone.

“You know what!”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs, “How’s Missy? Is she behaving?”

“She’s good! Frankie, she always behaves, stop worrying about that. You’ve done good with her,” you smile, looking out the kitchen window, “They’re outside right now running through the sprinkler.”

“Do I need to stop at my place and get clothes for her?”

“Nah,” you say with a shrug, “She’s wearing Nora’s old swimsuit.”

“Okay,” Frankie laughs, “Oh before I forget! Benny is going to throw a barbecue at his house once he gets settled and he would like it if you and Nora came too.”

“Frankie,” you say softly, “As much as I would love to. Is that really a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Me and Nora showing up to Benny’s,” you sigh, “Nora and Missy don’t know that I know your friends or that we’re together, I think it might give off a confusing message.”

“Yeah,” Frankie sighs, “I guess you’re right.”

“I’m sorry babe, I really am.”

“No it’s okay, I just didn’t think about that.”

“One day,” you sigh dreamily.

“One day,” Frankie repeats, “I better go, I think we might finish sooner than we thought but I’ll let you know.”

“Okay,” you smile, “Just let me know. I love you!”

“I love you too babe, I’ll see you soon.”

—

Your phone pings and a text from Frankie pops up.

Frankie: Hey. Girls still playing in sprinkler?

You: Hey. Yeah

Frankie: Come let me in 😉

Confused for a moment, stepping towards your front door peering through the peephole to see Frankie standing on your front porch. Smirking, you open the door.

“What are yo-“ Before you can even finish your sentence Frankie grabs you pulling you into a hungry kiss, letting out a soft moan when his hands grab your ass.

“Frankie,” you whisper, pushing your hands softly against his chest, “We can’t.”

“They’re distracted,” He hums, his nose tracing along your jaw, nipping your neck gently, “We can make it quick.”

You can hear the girls' laughter outside, he’s right - they are distracted. Nora won’t leave that sprinkler until someone makes her and Missy won’t leave it unless Nora does.

“Okay,” you smirk, hands trailing down to his waist, hooking your fingers into the belt loops on his jeans and pulling him towards the couch “But seriously we need to make it fast.”

Frankie nods with a dopey grin, and pushing him to sit, you straddle him. His hands immediately grip your hips, pulling you down on the bulge trapped in his jeans.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he sighs as your lips trail along his neck, softly sucking on his pulse point causing him to groan.

“I’ve missed you too,” you giggle, grinding your core against him. Frankie’s mouth drops open at the friction, “But you gotta be quiet too,” you say smirking as you undo his belt.

“Up,” he grunts, slapping the side of your ass. Hastily he maneuvers your body so that your chest is against the arm of the couch, slipping your leggings and underwear off you just enough and he lets out a pained groan seeing your wet slit, “Fuck, wish we had more time.”

You feel his thumbs spreading your lips open and his breath ghosting against your core, giving a barely there kiss to your bundle of nerves.

“Frankie,” you whine, “Please.”

“Tranquilita,” Frankie huffs, his thumb running circles against your clit,  “Wish I could give this pussy the treatment she deserves.”

“Fuck,” you moan, “We don’t have that kind of time, baby.”

“I know,” Frankie sighs, as you hear the button and zip of his jeans, the rustle of them being pushed down, turning your head you see his hand gripping his shaft, a soft groan crawls out his throat as he gives it a few pumps before pressing against your entrance. The head swiping up and down along your slit, causing you to squirm. Frankie grips your hip sharply to keep you still, pushing his cock in, your walls parting to make room for him. Simultaneous groans come from the both of you as he pushes in deeper until you feel his hips against your backside.

“Fuck baby,” Frankie groans, his hand on your hip gripping tighter, “Feel so fucking good.”

“Move,” you whine, hands gripping the cushion in front of you, “I need you to move.”

Frankie hums, pulling out an inch and slowly moving back into your heat. His other hand moves to the opposite hip, placing a firm grip there.

“Frankie,” you whine again, trying to move your hips against him but his hold on them becomes even tighter “More. I need more.”

“Tranquilita bebé,” Frankie says calmly, still keeping the same tempo working you open, “Gotta get used to it first, don’t wanna hurt you.”

He was right, the last time you had a quickie it hurt, but this was starting to feel like torture. Slowly rutting into you, you want it harder, want to feel him tomorrow every time you moved.

“Fuck,” Frankie softly hisses, feeling his cock pull out until only the tip is inside before plunging back into you harshly.

“Oh god,” you gasp, feeling his length scrub along your walls, “Frankie!”

Frankie’s hips begin to snap into you at a frenzied pace, the sound of skin clapping bouncing around your ears. His hand slides down between your thighs to access that sweet spot, swirling two fingers around it, causing you to let out a loud moan.

“Bebé,” Frankie tuts, his arm leaving your hip to lean over you, his chest flush with your back, slowing the pace of his hips, “Gonna need you to hold those noises in for me,” he whispers into your ear, giving your neck a soft bite.

“Mmhhmm,” you choke out, feeling the flutter of your walls as he hits that spot inside of you that makes your vision go blurry.

“God damn it,” Frankie groans, sucking in a sharp breath and pistoning into your cunt, “I need you to come,” moving his fingers faster against your clit.

Your grip on the couch becomes tighter, that warm feeling below your belly button becoming a raging inferno, the sound of your wetness smacking against Frankie’s balls as he continues brutally rutting into you.

“Fu-“ you start to sob as he clamps his hand across your mouth, leaving you to whimper into his hand as you reach your peak, coming undone beneath him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Frankie pants, beginning to chase his own climax as your walls constrict his cock, hips losing their rhythm, “Where can I - fuck - come? Where?”

You grip his hand moving it from your mouth, “I- In- Inside,” you stutter out.

“Dios mío,” he growls, grinding into you, feeling his cock twitch as he paints your walls with his spend, slumping against you, “Fuck me,” he whispers between your shoulder blades.

“Well,” you smile, “I didn’t do that but you did just fuck me.”

Frankie lets out a small laugh, rolling his forehead against your upper back with a shake of his head.

“You’re something else, bebé,” Frankie laughs, pulling out as you both groan.

There’s a smack at the backdoor and you hear your name being yelled.

“Nora fell!” Missy shouts from behind the door.

“Fuck,” you say, quickly sitting up, pulling your underwear and leggings up, “Mom duty.”

So does reader! 😂🤣❤️ Glad you enjoyed babe! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Play Date Hookup

Summary: Frankie arrives early to pick up Missy.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MINORS DNI, Sexting, being parents, unprotected piv, creampie

A/N: Thank you very much @beefrobeefcal and @strang3lov3 for lending your eyes on this one ❤️ @jay-zzle basically makes all the moodboards for me(with the exception of a few) and continues to surprise me over and over again with her talents! 😍 ilysm!!!

Masterlist||Parents to Lovers||AO3

divider by @saradika-graphics

“Down the hall and it’s the last door on the left,” Benny points, and grumbling in response,  Frankie makes his way towards Benny’s new bedroom. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Benny,” Frankie mutters, carrying the box Will shoved into his arms, “The fuck do you have in here? Weights?”

Frankie makes it to Benny’s room, barely able to hold the box any longer before it falls to the floor, the contents spilling out onto the hardwood floor.

“Fuck,” Frankie mutters, whipping around to make sure no one followed him in to see the box fumble, wiping his forearm across his sweaty brow he looks down at the mess he has to pick up. Playboys. Hundreds of playboys spilled out of the box.

After picking one up, Frankie quietly makes his way to the door, peering out to see if anyone is coming before closing the door and browsing the dirty magazine. He finds a model that slightly resembles you and his cock twitches, smirking as he pulls out his phone.

Frankie: You busy?

You: Making the girls lunch

Frankie: Thinking about you

You: Yeah? What about me?

Frankie: Oh ya know 🐱

You: Francisco! Naughty, naughty 😈 

Frankie: Wanna eat your pussy so bad baby

You: How about I ride you instead?

Frankie: Fuuuuuuck I’m supposed to be helping Benny move and now I’ve got a fucking boner

You: Show me? 😏

Frankie sighs, looking down at the tent in his jeans. Fuck it, he thinks, undoing his jeans. He slides them down to the middle of his thighs and moves his boxers down just enough that his cock springs free. He holds his dick in one hand and his phone in the other, getting the perfect angle.

“Hey man, there’s mor-“ Santi comes barging into the room, “What the fuck?”

“Fuck!” Frankie says, turning around, and pulling up his pants.

“What’s going on?” Will asks coming up the hallway.

“Fish is taking a pic of his dick!” Santi hollers out laughing.

“Fuck off!” Frankie huffs, buttoning and zipping his pants back up. His face feels like it’s on fire with how red it must be, turning around all three of them standing there looking at him.

“Fish, you’re supposed to be helping me move!” Benny laughs, “Not sexting your girl!”

“Ha. Ha.” Frankie mocks, “Lady gets what the lady wants,” he shrugs.

The guys continue to laugh, shaking their heads.

“Come on Fish,” Will says, “Let’s get the rest of this shit done and maybe you can leave early for your girl.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Frankie grumbles, looking at the pic he took before sending it to you.

Frankie: [image attached] I hope you know I love you because I just got fucking caught since you wanted a dick pic so bad  😜

You: Mmmm I love you too babe 😘

—

“Girls! Lunchtime!”

Frankie had volunteered to help Benny move into his new place which meant Missy was hanging out with you and Nora until he was done. Nora and Missy come bounding into the kitchen, sitting down at their plates and digging into the bag of chips on the table to pile on their plates.

“Hungry?” You ask with a laugh.

Missy and Nora nod while grabbing a handful of chips to shove in their mouths.

“How much more time do we have?” Nora asks with a mouthful.

“Sweetie, don’t talk with food in your mouth.”

“My bad,” Nora says, while Missy giggles.

You glance at your watch checking the time before picking up your sandwich.

“Looks like you girls have about an hour left before Missy’s dad comes to get her.”

“Can we play in the sprinkler after we eat?!”

“Can we?!” Missy asks with the same puppy dog eyes as her father.

“I guess that would be okay,” you shrug, “you can just borrow Nora’s old swimsuit, it should fit.”

“Yes!” Both girls shriek in triumph, picking up their sandwiches and taking big bites to try and finish faster.

“Hey now, slow down,” you murmur after taking a bite of your sandwich, trying to cover your mouth with your hand.

“Momma,” Nora says, “Don’t talk with food in your mouth!”

—

The girls are outside running through the sprinkler while you clean up the kitchen from lunch. You hear your ringtone blaring just as you finish putting dishes in the dishwasher. The picture of Frankie from your first date shows up on the screen, causing a grin to spread across your face.

“Hello?”

“Hey babe,” Frankie says, even though you can’t see him you can hear the smile on his face.

“Hey babe! Ooo-la-la!” You hear in the background along with someone moaning, “Oh Fish!” And obnoxious kissing sounds.

“Fuck off!” Frankie grumbles as the background noise gets softer and softer, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s all good,” you laugh, “How are the guys?”

“Being assholes,” Frankie grunts, “but they also wanted me to forward their hellos”

“Tell them I say the same and that I don’t call you Fish,” you say, unable to wipe the grin off your face.

“No you do not,” Frankie purrs into the receiver, “Miss you baby.”

“Frankie,” you groan, “Don’t start that.”

“Start what?” He asks with fake shock in his tone.

“You know what!”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs, “How’s Missy? Is she behaving?”

“She’s good! Frankie, she always behaves, stop worrying about that. You’ve done good with her,” you smile, looking out the kitchen window, “They’re outside right now running through the sprinkler.”

“Do I need to stop at my place and get clothes for her?”

“Nah,” you say with a shrug, “She’s wearing Nora’s old swimsuit.”

“Okay,” Frankie laughs, “Oh before I forget! Benny is going to throw a barbecue at his house once he gets settled and he would like it if you and Nora came too.”

“Frankie,” you say softly, “As much as I would love to. Is that really a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Me and Nora showing up to Benny’s,” you sigh, “Nora and Missy don’t know that I know your friends or that we’re together, I think it might give off a confusing message.”

“Yeah,” Frankie sighs, “I guess you’re right.”

“I’m sorry babe, I really am.”

“No it’s okay, I just didn’t think about that.”

“One day,” you sigh dreamily.

“One day,” Frankie repeats, “I better go, I think we might finish sooner than we thought but I’ll let you know.”

“Okay,” you smile, “Just let me know. I love you!”

“I love you too babe, I’ll see you soon.”

—

Your phone pings and a text from Frankie pops up.

Frankie: Hey. Girls still playing in sprinkler?

You: Hey. Yeah

Frankie: Come let me in 😉

Confused for a moment, stepping towards your front door peering through the peephole to see Frankie standing on your front porch. Smirking, you open the door.

“What are yo-“ Before you can even finish your sentence Frankie grabs you pulling you into a hungry kiss, letting out a soft moan when his hands grab your ass.

“Frankie,” you whisper, pushing your hands softly against his chest, “We can’t.”

“They’re distracted,” He hums, his nose tracing along your jaw, nipping your neck gently, “We can make it quick.”

You can hear the girls' laughter outside, he’s right - they are distracted. Nora won’t leave that sprinkler until someone makes her and Missy won’t leave it unless Nora does.

“Okay,” you smirk, hands trailing down to his waist, hooking your fingers into the belt loops on his jeans and pulling him towards the couch “But seriously we need to make it fast.”

Frankie nods with a dopey grin, and pushing him to sit, you straddle him. His hands immediately grip your hips, pulling you down on the bulge trapped in his jeans.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he sighs as your lips trail along his neck, softly sucking on his pulse point causing him to groan.

“I’ve missed you too,” you giggle, grinding your core against him. Frankie’s mouth drops open at the friction, “But you gotta be quiet too,” you say smirking as you undo his belt.

“Up,” he grunts, slapping the side of your ass. Hastily he maneuvers your body so that your chest is against the arm of the couch, slipping your leggings and underwear off you just enough and he lets out a pained groan seeing your wet slit, “Fuck, wish we had more time.”

You feel his thumbs spreading your lips open and his breath ghosting against your core, giving a barely there kiss to your bundle of nerves.

“Frankie,” you whine, “Please.”

“Tranquilita,” Frankie huffs, his thumb running circles against your clit,  “Wish I could give this pussy the treatment she deserves.”

“Fuck,” you moan, “We don’t have that kind of time, baby.”

“I know,” Frankie sighs, as you hear the button and zip of his jeans, the rustle of them being pushed down, turning your head you see his hand gripping his shaft, a soft groan crawls out his throat as he gives it a few pumps before pressing against your entrance. The head swiping up and down along your slit, causing you to squirm. Frankie grips your hip sharply to keep you still, pushing his cock in, your walls parting to make room for him. Simultaneous groans come from the both of you as he pushes in deeper until you feel his hips against your backside.

“Fuck baby,” Frankie groans, his hand on your hip gripping tighter, “Feel so fucking good.”

“Move,” you whine, hands gripping the cushion in front of you, “I need you to move.”

Frankie hums, pulling out an inch and slowly moving back into your heat. His other hand moves to the opposite hip, placing a firm grip there.

“Frankie,” you whine again, trying to move your hips against him but his hold on them becomes even tighter “More. I need more.”

“Tranquilita bebé,” Frankie says calmly, still keeping the same tempo working you open, “Gotta get used to it first, don’t wanna hurt you.”

He was right, the last time you had a quickie it hurt, but this was starting to feel like torture. Slowly rutting into you, you want it harder, want to feel him tomorrow every time you moved.

“Fuck,” Frankie softly hisses, feeling his cock pull out until only the tip is inside before plunging back into you harshly.

“Oh god,” you gasp, feeling his length scrub along your walls, “Frankie!”

Frankie’s hips begin to snap into you at a frenzied pace, the sound of skin clapping bouncing around your ears. His hand slides down between your thighs to access that sweet spot, swirling two fingers around it, causing you to let out a loud moan.

“Bebé,” Frankie tuts, his arm leaving your hip to lean over you, his chest flush with your back, slowing the pace of his hips, “Gonna need you to hold those noises in for me,” he whispers into your ear, giving your neck a soft bite.

“Mmhhmm,” you choke out, feeling the flutter of your walls as he hits that spot inside of you that makes your vision go blurry.

“God damn it,” Frankie groans, sucking in a sharp breath and pistoning into your cunt, “I need you to come,” moving his fingers faster against your clit.

Your grip on the couch becomes tighter, that warm feeling below your belly button becoming a raging inferno, the sound of your wetness smacking against Frankie’s balls as he continues brutally rutting into you.

“Fu-“ you start to sob as he clamps his hand across your mouth, leaving you to whimper into his hand as you reach your peak, coming undone beneath him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Frankie pants, beginning to chase his own climax as your walls constrict his cock, hips losing their rhythm, “Where can I - fuck - come? Where?”

You grip his hand moving it from your mouth, “I- In- Inside,” you stutter out.

“Dios mío,” he growls, grinding into you, feeling his cock twitch as he paints your walls with his spend, slumping against you, “Fuck me,” he whispers between your shoulder blades.

“Well,” you smile, “I didn’t do that but you did just fuck me.”

Frankie lets out a small laugh, rolling his forehead against your upper back with a shake of his head.

“You’re something else, bebé,” Frankie laughs, pulling out as you both groan.

There’s a smack at the backdoor and you hear your name being yelled.

“Nora fell!” Missy shouts from behind the door.

“Fuck,” you say, quickly sitting up, pulling your underwear and leggings up, “Mom duty.”

I love you so much!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

I couldn’t not have that happen! 🤣 Triple Frontier boys needed to give him some shit for something!

Play Date Hookup

Summary: Frankie arrives early to pick up Missy.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MINORS DNI, Sexting, being parents, unprotected piv, creampie

A/N: Thank you very much @beefrobeefcal and @strang3lov3 for lending your eyes on this one ❤️ @jay-zzle basically makes all the moodboards for me(with the exception of a few) and continues to surprise me over and over again with her talents! 😍 ilysm!!!

Masterlist||Parents to Lovers||AO3

divider by @saradika-graphics

“Down the hall and it’s the last door on the left,” Benny points, and grumbling in response,  Frankie makes his way towards Benny’s new bedroom. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Benny,” Frankie mutters, carrying the box Will shoved into his arms, “The fuck do you have in here? Weights?”

Frankie makes it to Benny’s room, barely able to hold the box any longer before it falls to the floor, the contents spilling out onto the hardwood floor.

“Fuck,” Frankie mutters, whipping around to make sure no one followed him in to see the box fumble, wiping his forearm across his sweaty brow he looks down at the mess he has to pick up. Playboys. Hundreds of playboys spilled out of the box.

After picking one up, Frankie quietly makes his way to the door, peering out to see if anyone is coming before closing the door and browsing the dirty magazine. He finds a model that slightly resembles you and his cock twitches, smirking as he pulls out his phone.

Frankie: You busy?

You: Making the girls lunch

Frankie: Thinking about you

You: Yeah? What about me?

Frankie: Oh ya know 🐱

You: Francisco! Naughty, naughty 😈 

Frankie: Wanna eat your pussy so bad baby

You: How about I ride you instead?

Frankie: Fuuuuuuck I’m supposed to be helping Benny move and now I’ve got a fucking boner

You: Show me? 😏

Frankie sighs, looking down at the tent in his jeans. Fuck it, he thinks, undoing his jeans. He slides them down to the middle of his thighs and moves his boxers down just enough that his cock springs free. He holds his dick in one hand and his phone in the other, getting the perfect angle.

“Hey man, there’s mor-“ Santi comes barging into the room, “What the fuck?”

“Fuck!” Frankie says, turning around, and pulling up his pants.

“What’s going on?” Will asks coming up the hallway.

“Fish is taking a pic of his dick!” Santi hollers out laughing.

“Fuck off!” Frankie huffs, buttoning and zipping his pants back up. His face feels like it’s on fire with how red it must be, turning around all three of them standing there looking at him.

“Fish, you’re supposed to be helping me move!” Benny laughs, “Not sexting your girl!”

“Ha. Ha.” Frankie mocks, “Lady gets what the lady wants,” he shrugs.

The guys continue to laugh, shaking their heads.

“Come on Fish,” Will says, “Let’s get the rest of this shit done and maybe you can leave early for your girl.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Frankie grumbles, looking at the pic he took before sending it to you.

Frankie: [image attached] I hope you know I love you because I just got fucking caught since you wanted a dick pic so bad  😜

You: Mmmm I love you too babe 😘

—

“Girls! Lunchtime!”

Frankie had volunteered to help Benny move into his new place which meant Missy was hanging out with you and Nora until he was done. Nora and Missy come bounding into the kitchen, sitting down at their plates and digging into the bag of chips on the table to pile on their plates.

“Hungry?” You ask with a laugh.

Missy and Nora nod while grabbing a handful of chips to shove in their mouths.

“How much more time do we have?” Nora asks with a mouthful.

“Sweetie, don’t talk with food in your mouth.”

“My bad,” Nora says, while Missy giggles.

You glance at your watch checking the time before picking up your sandwich.

“Looks like you girls have about an hour left before Missy’s dad comes to get her.”

“Can we play in the sprinkler after we eat?!”

“Can we?!” Missy asks with the same puppy dog eyes as her father.

“I guess that would be okay,” you shrug, “you can just borrow Nora’s old swimsuit, it should fit.”

“Yes!” Both girls shriek in triumph, picking up their sandwiches and taking big bites to try and finish faster.

“Hey now, slow down,” you murmur after taking a bite of your sandwich, trying to cover your mouth with your hand.

“Momma,” Nora says, “Don’t talk with food in your mouth!”

—

The girls are outside running through the sprinkler while you clean up the kitchen from lunch. You hear your ringtone blaring just as you finish putting dishes in the dishwasher. The picture of Frankie from your first date shows up on the screen, causing a grin to spread across your face.

“Hello?”

“Hey babe,” Frankie says, even though you can’t see him you can hear the smile on his face.

“Hey babe! Ooo-la-la!” You hear in the background along with someone moaning, “Oh Fish!” And obnoxious kissing sounds.

“Fuck off!” Frankie grumbles as the background noise gets softer and softer, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s all good,” you laugh, “How are the guys?”

“Being assholes,” Frankie grunts, “but they also wanted me to forward their hellos”

“Tell them I say the same and that I don’t call you Fish,” you say, unable to wipe the grin off your face.

“No you do not,” Frankie purrs into the receiver, “Miss you baby.”

“Frankie,” you groan, “Don’t start that.”

“Start what?” He asks with fake shock in his tone.

“You know what!”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs, “How’s Missy? Is she behaving?”

“She’s good! Frankie, she always behaves, stop worrying about that. You’ve done good with her,” you smile, looking out the kitchen window, “They’re outside right now running through the sprinkler.”

“Do I need to stop at my place and get clothes for her?”

“Nah,” you say with a shrug, “She’s wearing Nora’s old swimsuit.”

“Okay,” Frankie laughs, “Oh before I forget! Benny is going to throw a barbecue at his house once he gets settled and he would like it if you and Nora came too.”

“Frankie,” you say softly, “As much as I would love to. Is that really a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Me and Nora showing up to Benny’s,” you sigh, “Nora and Missy don’t know that I know your friends or that we’re together, I think it might give off a confusing message.”

“Yeah,” Frankie sighs, “I guess you’re right.”

“I’m sorry babe, I really am.”

“No it’s okay, I just didn’t think about that.”

“One day,” you sigh dreamily.

“One day,” Frankie repeats, “I better go, I think we might finish sooner than we thought but I’ll let you know.”

“Okay,” you smile, “Just let me know. I love you!”

“I love you too babe, I’ll see you soon.”

—

Your phone pings and a text from Frankie pops up.

Frankie: Hey. Girls still playing in sprinkler?

You: Hey. Yeah

Frankie: Come let me in 😉

Confused for a moment, stepping towards your front door peering through the peephole to see Frankie standing on your front porch. Smirking, you open the door.

“What are yo-“ Before you can even finish your sentence Frankie grabs you pulling you into a hungry kiss, letting out a soft moan when his hands grab your ass.

“Frankie,” you whisper, pushing your hands softly against his chest, “We can’t.”

“They’re distracted,” He hums, his nose tracing along your jaw, nipping your neck gently, “We can make it quick.”

You can hear the girls' laughter outside, he’s right - they are distracted. Nora won’t leave that sprinkler until someone makes her and Missy won’t leave it unless Nora does.

“Okay,” you smirk, hands trailing down to his waist, hooking your fingers into the belt loops on his jeans and pulling him towards the couch “But seriously we need to make it fast.”

Frankie nods with a dopey grin, and pushing him to sit, you straddle him. His hands immediately grip your hips, pulling you down on the bulge trapped in his jeans.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he sighs as your lips trail along his neck, softly sucking on his pulse point causing him to groan.

“I’ve missed you too,” you giggle, grinding your core against him. Frankie’s mouth drops open at the friction, “But you gotta be quiet too,” you say smirking as you undo his belt.

“Up,” he grunts, slapping the side of your ass. Hastily he maneuvers your body so that your chest is against the arm of the couch, slipping your leggings and underwear off you just enough and he lets out a pained groan seeing your wet slit, “Fuck, wish we had more time.”

You feel his thumbs spreading your lips open and his breath ghosting against your core, giving a barely there kiss to your bundle of nerves.

“Frankie,” you whine, “Please.”

“Tranquilita,” Frankie huffs, his thumb running circles against your clit,  “Wish I could give this pussy the treatment she deserves.”

“Fuck,” you moan, “We don’t have that kind of time, baby.”

“I know,” Frankie sighs, as you hear the button and zip of his jeans, the rustle of them being pushed down, turning your head you see his hand gripping his shaft, a soft groan crawls out his throat as he gives it a few pumps before pressing against your entrance. The head swiping up and down along your slit, causing you to squirm. Frankie grips your hip sharply to keep you still, pushing his cock in, your walls parting to make room for him. Simultaneous groans come from the both of you as he pushes in deeper until you feel his hips against your backside.

“Fuck baby,” Frankie groans, his hand on your hip gripping tighter, “Feel so fucking good.”

“Move,” you whine, hands gripping the cushion in front of you, “I need you to move.”

Frankie hums, pulling out an inch and slowly moving back into your heat. His other hand moves to the opposite hip, placing a firm grip there.

“Frankie,” you whine again, trying to move your hips against him but his hold on them becomes even tighter “More. I need more.”

“Tranquilita bebé,” Frankie says calmly, still keeping the same tempo working you open, “Gotta get used to it first, don’t wanna hurt you.”

He was right, the last time you had a quickie it hurt, but this was starting to feel like torture. Slowly rutting into you, you want it harder, want to feel him tomorrow every time you moved.

“Fuck,” Frankie softly hisses, feeling his cock pull out until only the tip is inside before plunging back into you harshly.

“Oh god,” you gasp, feeling his length scrub along your walls, “Frankie!”

Frankie’s hips begin to snap into you at a frenzied pace, the sound of skin clapping bouncing around your ears. His hand slides down between your thighs to access that sweet spot, swirling two fingers around it, causing you to let out a loud moan.

“Bebé,” Frankie tuts, his arm leaving your hip to lean over you, his chest flush with your back, slowing the pace of his hips, “Gonna need you to hold those noises in for me,” he whispers into your ear, giving your neck a soft bite.

“Mmhhmm,” you choke out, feeling the flutter of your walls as he hits that spot inside of you that makes your vision go blurry.

“God damn it,” Frankie groans, sucking in a sharp breath and pistoning into your cunt, “I need you to come,” moving his fingers faster against your clit.

Your grip on the couch becomes tighter, that warm feeling below your belly button becoming a raging inferno, the sound of your wetness smacking against Frankie’s balls as he continues brutally rutting into you.

“Fu-“ you start to sob as he clamps his hand across your mouth, leaving you to whimper into his hand as you reach your peak, coming undone beneath him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Frankie pants, beginning to chase his own climax as your walls constrict his cock, hips losing their rhythm, “Where can I - fuck - come? Where?”

You grip his hand moving it from your mouth, “I- In- Inside,” you stutter out.

“Dios mío,” he growls, grinding into you, feeling his cock twitch as he paints your walls with his spend, slumping against you, “Fuck me,” he whispers between your shoulder blades.

“Well,” you smile, “I didn’t do that but you did just fuck me.”

Frankie lets out a small laugh, rolling his forehead against your upper back with a shake of his head.

“You’re something else, bebé,” Frankie laughs, pulling out as you both groan.

There’s a smack at the backdoor and you hear your name being yelled.

“Nora fell!” Missy shouts from behind the door.

“Fuck,” you say, quickly sitting up, pulling your underwear and leggings up, “Mom duty.”

I always love your reblogs! They always make me smile so much ❤️ I’m so glad you liked this part!

Play Date Hookup

Summary: Frankie arrives early to pick up Missy.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MINORS DNI, Sexting, being parents, unprotected piv, creampie

A/N: Thank you very much @beefrobeefcal and @strang3lov3 for lending your eyes on this one ❤️ @jay-zzle basically makes all the moodboards for me(with the exception of a few) and continues to surprise me over and over again with her talents! 😍 ilysm!!!

Masterlist||Parents to Lovers||AO3

divider by @saradika-graphics

“Down the hall and it’s the last door on the left,” Benny points, and grumbling in response,  Frankie makes his way towards Benny’s new bedroom. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Benny,” Frankie mutters, carrying the box Will shoved into his arms, “The fuck do you have in here? Weights?”

Frankie makes it to Benny’s room, barely able to hold the box any longer before it falls to the floor, the contents spilling out onto the hardwood floor.

“Fuck,” Frankie mutters, whipping around to make sure no one followed him in to see the box fumble, wiping his forearm across his sweaty brow he looks down at the mess he has to pick up. Playboys. Hundreds of playboys spilled out of the box.

After picking one up, Frankie quietly makes his way to the door, peering out to see if anyone is coming before closing the door and browsing the dirty magazine. He finds a model that slightly resembles you and his cock twitches, smirking as he pulls out his phone.

Frankie: You busy?

You: Making the girls lunch

Frankie: Thinking about you

You: Yeah? What about me?

Frankie: Oh ya know 🐱

You: Francisco! Naughty, naughty 😈 

Frankie: Wanna eat your pussy so bad baby

You: How about I ride you instead?

Frankie: Fuuuuuuck I’m supposed to be helping Benny move and now I’ve got a fucking boner

You: Show me? 😏

Frankie sighs, looking down at the tent in his jeans. Fuck it, he thinks, undoing his jeans. He slides them down to the middle of his thighs and moves his boxers down just enough that his cock springs free. He holds his dick in one hand and his phone in the other, getting the perfect angle.

“Hey man, there’s mor-“ Santi comes barging into the room, “What the fuck?”

“Fuck!” Frankie says, turning around, and pulling up his pants.

“What’s going on?” Will asks coming up the hallway.

“Fish is taking a pic of his dick!” Santi hollers out laughing.

“Fuck off!” Frankie huffs, buttoning and zipping his pants back up. His face feels like it’s on fire with how red it must be, turning around all three of them standing there looking at him.

“Fish, you’re supposed to be helping me move!” Benny laughs, “Not sexting your girl!”

“Ha. Ha.” Frankie mocks, “Lady gets what the lady wants,” he shrugs.

The guys continue to laugh, shaking their heads.

“Come on Fish,” Will says, “Let’s get the rest of this shit done and maybe you can leave early for your girl.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Frankie grumbles, looking at the pic he took before sending it to you.

Frankie: [image attached] I hope you know I love you because I just got fucking caught since you wanted a dick pic so bad  😜

You: Mmmm I love you too babe 😘

—

“Girls! Lunchtime!”

Frankie had volunteered to help Benny move into his new place which meant Missy was hanging out with you and Nora until he was done. Nora and Missy come bounding into the kitchen, sitting down at their plates and digging into the bag of chips on the table to pile on their plates.

“Hungry?” You ask with a laugh.

Missy and Nora nod while grabbing a handful of chips to shove in their mouths.

“How much more time do we have?” Nora asks with a mouthful.

“Sweetie, don’t talk with food in your mouth.”

“My bad,” Nora says, while Missy giggles.

You glance at your watch checking the time before picking up your sandwich.

“Looks like you girls have about an hour left before Missy’s dad comes to get her.”

“Can we play in the sprinkler after we eat?!”

“Can we?!” Missy asks with the same puppy dog eyes as her father.

“I guess that would be okay,” you shrug, “you can just borrow Nora’s old swimsuit, it should fit.”

“Yes!” Both girls shriek in triumph, picking up their sandwiches and taking big bites to try and finish faster.

“Hey now, slow down,” you murmur after taking a bite of your sandwich, trying to cover your mouth with your hand.

“Momma,” Nora says, “Don’t talk with food in your mouth!”

—

The girls are outside running through the sprinkler while you clean up the kitchen from lunch. You hear your ringtone blaring just as you finish putting dishes in the dishwasher. The picture of Frankie from your first date shows up on the screen, causing a grin to spread across your face.

“Hello?”

“Hey babe,” Frankie says, even though you can’t see him you can hear the smile on his face.

“Hey babe! Ooo-la-la!” You hear in the background along with someone moaning, “Oh Fish!” And obnoxious kissing sounds.

“Fuck off!” Frankie grumbles as the background noise gets softer and softer, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s all good,” you laugh, “How are the guys?”

“Being assholes,” Frankie grunts, “but they also wanted me to forward their hellos”

“Tell them I say the same and that I don’t call you Fish,” you say, unable to wipe the grin off your face.

“No you do not,” Frankie purrs into the receiver, “Miss you baby.”

“Frankie,” you groan, “Don’t start that.”

“Start what?” He asks with fake shock in his tone.

“You know what!”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs, “How’s Missy? Is she behaving?”

“She’s good! Frankie, she always behaves, stop worrying about that. You’ve done good with her,” you smile, looking out the kitchen window, “They’re outside right now running through the sprinkler.”

“Do I need to stop at my place and get clothes for her?”

“Nah,” you say with a shrug, “She’s wearing Nora’s old swimsuit.”

“Okay,” Frankie laughs, “Oh before I forget! Benny is going to throw a barbecue at his house once he gets settled and he would like it if you and Nora came too.”

“Frankie,” you say softly, “As much as I would love to. Is that really a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Me and Nora showing up to Benny’s,” you sigh, “Nora and Missy don’t know that I know your friends or that we’re together, I think it might give off a confusing message.”

“Yeah,” Frankie sighs, “I guess you’re right.”

“I’m sorry babe, I really am.”

“No it’s okay, I just didn’t think about that.”

“One day,” you sigh dreamily.

“One day,” Frankie repeats, “I better go, I think we might finish sooner than we thought but I’ll let you know.”

“Okay,” you smile, “Just let me know. I love you!”

“I love you too babe, I’ll see you soon.”

—

Your phone pings and a text from Frankie pops up.

Frankie: Hey. Girls still playing in sprinkler?

You: Hey. Yeah

Frankie: Come let me in 😉

Confused for a moment, stepping towards your front door peering through the peephole to see Frankie standing on your front porch. Smirking, you open the door.

“What are yo-“ Before you can even finish your sentence Frankie grabs you pulling you into a hungry kiss, letting out a soft moan when his hands grab your ass.

“Frankie,” you whisper, pushing your hands softly against his chest, “We can’t.”

“They’re distracted,” He hums, his nose tracing along your jaw, nipping your neck gently, “We can make it quick.”

You can hear the girls' laughter outside, he’s right - they are distracted. Nora won’t leave that sprinkler until someone makes her and Missy won’t leave it unless Nora does.

“Okay,” you smirk, hands trailing down to his waist, hooking your fingers into the belt loops on his jeans and pulling him towards the couch “But seriously we need to make it fast.”

Frankie nods with a dopey grin, and pushing him to sit, you straddle him. His hands immediately grip your hips, pulling you down on the bulge trapped in his jeans.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he sighs as your lips trail along his neck, softly sucking on his pulse point causing him to groan.

“I’ve missed you too,” you giggle, grinding your core against him. Frankie’s mouth drops open at the friction, “But you gotta be quiet too,” you say smirking as you undo his belt.

“Up,” he grunts, slapping the side of your ass. Hastily he maneuvers your body so that your chest is against the arm of the couch, slipping your leggings and underwear off you just enough and he lets out a pained groan seeing your wet slit, “Fuck, wish we had more time.”

You feel his thumbs spreading your lips open and his breath ghosting against your core, giving a barely there kiss to your bundle of nerves.

“Frankie,” you whine, “Please.”

“Tranquilita,” Frankie huffs, his thumb running circles against your clit,  “Wish I could give this pussy the treatment she deserves.”

“Fuck,” you moan, “We don’t have that kind of time, baby.”

“I know,” Frankie sighs, as you hear the button and zip of his jeans, the rustle of them being pushed down, turning your head you see his hand gripping his shaft, a soft groan crawls out his throat as he gives it a few pumps before pressing against your entrance. The head swiping up and down along your slit, causing you to squirm. Frankie grips your hip sharply to keep you still, pushing his cock in, your walls parting to make room for him. Simultaneous groans come from the both of you as he pushes in deeper until you feel his hips against your backside.

“Fuck baby,” Frankie groans, his hand on your hip gripping tighter, “Feel so fucking good.”

“Move,” you whine, hands gripping the cushion in front of you, “I need you to move.”

Frankie hums, pulling out an inch and slowly moving back into your heat. His other hand moves to the opposite hip, placing a firm grip there.

“Frankie,” you whine again, trying to move your hips against him but his hold on them becomes even tighter “More. I need more.”

“Tranquilita bebé,” Frankie says calmly, still keeping the same tempo working you open, “Gotta get used to it first, don’t wanna hurt you.”

He was right, the last time you had a quickie it hurt, but this was starting to feel like torture. Slowly rutting into you, you want it harder, want to feel him tomorrow every time you moved.

“Fuck,” Frankie softly hisses, feeling his cock pull out until only the tip is inside before plunging back into you harshly.

“Oh god,” you gasp, feeling his length scrub along your walls, “Frankie!”

Frankie’s hips begin to snap into you at a frenzied pace, the sound of skin clapping bouncing around your ears. His hand slides down between your thighs to access that sweet spot, swirling two fingers around it, causing you to let out a loud moan.

“Bebé,” Frankie tuts, his arm leaving your hip to lean over you, his chest flush with your back, slowing the pace of his hips, “Gonna need you to hold those noises in for me,” he whispers into your ear, giving your neck a soft bite.

“Mmhhmm,” you choke out, feeling the flutter of your walls as he hits that spot inside of you that makes your vision go blurry.

“God damn it,” Frankie groans, sucking in a sharp breath and pistoning into your cunt, “I need you to come,” moving his fingers faster against your clit.

Your grip on the couch becomes tighter, that warm feeling below your belly button becoming a raging inferno, the sound of your wetness smacking against Frankie’s balls as he continues brutally rutting into you.

“Fu-“ you start to sob as he clamps his hand across your mouth, leaving you to whimper into his hand as you reach your peak, coming undone beneath him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Frankie pants, beginning to chase his own climax as your walls constrict his cock, hips losing their rhythm, “Where can I - fuck - come? Where?”

You grip his hand moving it from your mouth, “I- In- Inside,” you stutter out.

“Dios mío,” he growls, grinding into you, feeling his cock twitch as he paints your walls with his spend, slumping against you, “Fuck me,” he whispers between your shoulder blades.

“Well,” you smile, “I didn’t do that but you did just fuck me.”

Frankie lets out a small laugh, rolling his forehead against your upper back with a shake of his head.

“You’re something else, bebé,” Frankie laughs, pulling out as you both groan.

There’s a smack at the backdoor and you hear your name being yelled.

“Nora fell!” Missy shouts from behind the door.

“Fuck,” you say, quickly sitting up, pulling your underwear and leggings up, “Mom duty.”

I just… oh my god…

😭😭😭

I read the warnings and I was still not prepared. Your writing is beautifully heart wrenching ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

WHERE YOU LEFT ME

Pairing: Frankie Morales x reader

Summary: You meet Frankie for a date and reminisce about your relationship.

Content Warnings: MAJOR character death. No movie AU but fuck Tom. This is overall angst heavy and please take care of yourself. Grief & loss, sadness, memories, I think that’s it? It’s just overall a bittersweet and tragically lovesick story. There’s no physical descriptions of reader other than wearing a black dress at one point and having hair that tickles Frankie’s nose. no y/n used

Authors Note: hello my babies I am finally dropping this. It’s been an idea I had for months and I almost scrapped it but then I thought, no! Post it anyway! So here we go. It’s heavily inspired by Tim McGraw by Taylor Swift but it’s not required to listen to it to read the story. (Although if you’re like me and love a good cry, i recommend listening) I’ll meet you at the end of this with tissues and candy, okay? 🩵 thank you @pr0ximamidnight for beta reading this for me and I’m sorry for making you sob. || wc: 1.3k|| beautiful divider by @/saradika-graphics 🩵

“Hi honey, I missed you. Hope you aren’t too mad I’m runnin’ late.”

You smile and sit next to Frankie on the ground right on top of the red picnic blanket, food spread out from corner to corner. The assortment of favorite sweets and dishes makes you smile harder, getting comfortable right next to him.

“Finally went out shopping today for the first time in a while. I hadn’t seen my friends in so long, I’m surprised they answered when I offered to go out. We took the backroads home and it reminded me of when your truck used to get stuck back in high school, those long ass nights we should’ve been home studying but you wanted to go for a drive. You’d take us out to the lake and dance with me. Remember that? It was fun before my dad caught us and chased us back to the truck.”

You giggle and rest against him, blinking a few times as a breeze of cold and crisp October air rushes by you. Licking your lips, you continue.

“I found a note from years ago when I was looking for those one pair of shoes you know I hate wearing, the ones I have to wear when-”

You cut yourself off, not wanting to bring up that day. Not yet.

Pulling the folded piece of lined paper out of your coat pocket, you sniffle from the chilly weather and begin to read aloud the note. “This was from the day you were shipping out for basic and god was I pissed at you. We woke up and realized summer was gone, we were adults.”

“Frankie, when you read this you’ll probably be on the way to Texas, and I’ll be in Georgia, right where you left me. I told your mama I’d write to you every chance I got, and I mean that. That also means when I’m mad at you for leaving. I hope when you’re lying awake in your cot at night, you look up and our song starts to play, that one Tim McGraw song. You remember what I was wearing, the perfume embedded in my skin, the way my hair tickled your nose when you’d hug me.

By no means is this a goodbye letter. I’m in it forever with you, Frankie. I want you to come back home safely so we can start the family we’ve always wanted. Why did you have to leave me? Why was this the best solution for us? We were making it, we were fine. We were good. I was happy with our little apartment and my shitty 9-5 job while you worked on cars. Promise me you’ll come home safe. I need you here with me.

I love you endlessly, you have no idea. You make it hard to be mad when I remember how you’d tell me my eyes put the stars to shame every time I looked at you. That’s still a lie to this day. I’m already counting down the days until you’re back with me and I thought it would somehow make it easier but it doesn’t. I’ll be waiting right here for you, wearing that little black dress you love so much.

We’ll start our family and get that house on the outskirts of town like you told me we would. I already have dog names picked out for the dog we’re gonna adopt too.

P.s. the ring doesn’t have to be too expensive.

Love you always.”

Taking a deep breath in, you wipe your tears on your corduroy brown pants, looking around at all the people walking by in the distance. Grabbing a green grape from the plate next to your leg, you chew it up and rest back against your hands, the soft blanket shielding you from the cold ground.

“I got a new job a few months ago, I forgot to tell you. I'm in HR now which is fun. I get to listen to people complain about who ate whose lunch, hire more clowns who hope to climb the social ladder, that kind of thing. It has its good and bad days. Honestly though, it makes me forget about all the shit I have going on in my head. I get to focus on everyone else but myself for a day. I know, I know, an office job?”

You sit up straight and cross your legs before continuing.

“I needed something to pay the bills and I couldn’t stay a waitress forever. The tips were good but I couldn’t afford our apartment on that alone. Robert still calls me from time to time asking if I want a Friday night shift. I didn’t think he’d remember how I used to love those. You’d come in after being with Santi and Ben all day and want beers while you stayed until we closed, always wanting to be near me with what little time we did have. Just seeing you sitting on that barstool watching college football, eating those disgusting cheese sticks was enough to make me keep going for the night.”

And it was.

Frankie being there when he was off duty meant a lot to you.

You kneel down in front of him and you can feel the tears pricking your eyes once more as your scarf blows to the right a little.

“I left a note on your mama’s porch the other day. I know she doesn’t live there anymore but I just, it was the first time I’d gone back to your street since, ya know. By now I’m sure you know what I wrote in it, but just in case you don't. I hope you still think about me when you think Tim McGraw. It’ll bring you back to that place of us out there by the lake with my head on your chest, dancing all night like two lovesick teenagers. I hope it makes you happy, Frankie. I hope you know it means everything to me, still. After all these years.”

You finally crack and break down, leaning your forehead on the picnic blanket, the tears soaking into the fabric immediately. Muffled and choked out sobs leap from your lips and you clutch your throat, trying to calm yourself down enough to breathe.

“I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to you, Frankie. You left me here with n-nothing.” You fiddle with your fingers and rub the spot on your ring finger where a ring should be sitting. Yet only a faint line from the ring Frankie won you out of a quarter machine was left. It didn’t feel right wearing it without him so you gave it back on that terrible day in September when the entire month seemed flooded out by tears. You tucked it right in his jacket pocket before you left.

That was the worst day of your life.

You sigh deeply and touch the cold granite headstone, the smallest picture of Frankie looking back at you.

“I love you so much. I’ll be back tomorrow to change your flowers. It’s my first winter without you here and I can’t stop thinking about how cold you must be, baby. I wish you were back in our apartment in my arms how you used to let me hold you.”

Laying down until your face was pressed against the ground, you sniffle again and whimper out as you think about him being cold.

“Frankie, I'm so sorry. I’m sorry I can’t get you out of that wooden box. I hope wherever you are in the universe, you’re safe and warm and can feel all the love I still have for you. There’s just too much left over and I’m not sure what to do with it, honey. What do I do with it? What do I do with all this love that was supposed to last us forever?”

You never did get the ring but you got an endless supply of memories from knowing him and loving him. Truly loving him.

You curl up into a little ball and hold yourself while you continue to cry, twiddling a leaf between your fingers. Eventually the whimpers turned into soft and broken hums of that one Tim McGraw song.

Hugs and kisses and tissues are complimentary 💚