#Francisco morales x Santiago garcia | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wardenparker · 4 months ago

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The Stars Re-Align, part 1

Frankie Morales x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: M for Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 12.1k Warnings: Reader is given an age and a grown daughter. Starts out as Santiago x reader. Cursing, food/alcohol, meddlesome friends, mentions of military service (obviously), glancing mention of Tom's death, past drug use, off-page abusive relationship, panic attacks, complicated relationships, family drama. Summary: When your daughter and your boyfriend talk you into having a birthday party, you are not prepared for all of the surprises that come your way. Notes: A little love triangle and 'one that got away' vibe for your Feral Frankie Friday!

“Rachel!” Calling from the kitchen is an old, unbreakable habit by now, but dinner is almost ready and you know your daughter is in the living room studying. She has plans with her boyfriend tonight which means she’s getting her reading out of the way, and you’re proud of her for having such good habits and steady resolve. It’s not at all what you were like at her age, and you’ve worked hard to make sure that she has opportunities that you never could have. Being a young single mom was rough, but every second you have with your little-girl-turned-young-woman is worth it. “Supper’s ready, honey. Find your bookmark!”

“Sure thing!” There’s no point in reminding you that her book is a digital copy, no bookmark needed, but she dutifully saves the spot and closes her laptop. “It smells good.” She compliments, walking into the kitchen and over to the fridge to bust out the bottle of wine that had become a habit with dinner since high school. Nothing fancy, just a cheap sangria, but it was a ritual that both mom and daughter enjoyed. “Are you going out with Santiago tonight?” She asks as she gets down the glasses to pour.

“He might come over to watch a movie since you’re going out.” Your two-month-old relationship isn’t deeply committed or deeply anything yet, really, but you like him. He’s attentive, handsome, and funny, and deeply — okay there’s one deeply — good in bed. “Do you want the good parmesan, or the shaker can? We have both.” Spaghetti with onions, peppers, and sausage isn’t necessarily gourmet, but it’s a family staple. Something your dad used to make you when you were growing up in New York City and you have made for your daughter her whole life afterwards.

“Good parmesan.” She hums. “Let’s be fancy tonight.” Bringing the glasses over to the small kitchen table, she moves on to set out the silverware. A chore when she was younger, it’s now just become habit when you eat together. ‘Working together as a team’ is how you always phrased it and it’s something she loves about her relationship with you now. You’re a team. “I’m going to stay at Ben’s tonight, so you and Santiago can have wild sex.”

“Be safe.” She’s twenty-four, so you’re not going to quibble about her sleeping over with her boyfriend, but you do give her a meaningful look when you set down the plates on the table. “Don’t make me a grandmother and I won’t make you a sister.”

Rachel laughs, it’s the same statement you have been using since she was first dating boys after puberty. “But Mom!” She pouts playfully. “I really want a baby sister!”

“Think I’m getting a little too old for that option, honey,” you huff, but laugh anyway. “Ask Santa for one at Christmas.”

She grins at you, bringing over the basket of breadsticks that are an Olive Garden copycat. Plain frozen ones that you brush with butter and garlic salt. So many of the meals you have together are mocks of the restaurant meals she had wanted when she was younger and you couldn’t afford. As an adult, it’s humbling to see the lengths you went to in order to make her happy.

“You’re coming back tomorrow, though, right?” Though you typically aren’t one to make a big deal out of such things, Santiago had offhandedly mentioned to your daughter a few weeks ago that it was a shame you weren’t doing anything for your birthday and Rachel had jumped on board with talking you into a party. The backyard barbecue will be small, but a chance to meet your boyfriend’s friends and have a few of your own friends from work come over. “It was half your idea, after all.”

“Yeah, I’m going to be there.” She promises. “Oh, is it okay if I bring Ben?” She asks. “He’s got another party to go to if not, but he said he would rather spend time with me.”

“Yes, you can bring Ben.” He’s a few years older than Rachel and has had a very different life experience, but you like Ben Miller. He’s doing his best to make an honest way in the world and he treats Rachel with love and respect. And probably in ways that you want to know absolutely nothing about. “There’s going to be plenty of food. Santiago and I are managing that end.”

She snorts and shakes her head. “Of course you are cooking for your own party.” She huffs.

“Get sassy with me and I’ll send every stitch of leftovers home with other people,” you threaten, though it’s hollow and comes with laughter.

“Not like you won’t make enough to still bring home food.” She shoots back with a grin. If there was ever a party, you always made too much food. It might be pasta salad, but you and she would be eating it for a solid week after everyone had gone home.

“Nothing fancy,” you assure her even though you know she’s right. “Burgers and dogs. And veggie burgers for the few people that skip red meat. All the accoutrements. Santiago is in charge of the grill, which he’s very happy about. And I’m making that cheese dip you like along with my guac. Salsa is coming out of a jar despite protests.”

“Let Ben bring the salsa.” She volunteers immediately with a grin. “He’s got some recipe he got from friends he used to serve with.” She explains. “He was going to make it for their party but we can hijack it and bring it to yours.”

“Deal.” That’s one more thing off your checklist and you’re fine with that. “And the cake is coming from an actual bakery, not a supermarket. I do listen to your protests most of the time.”

“The buttercream is far superior.” She huffs happily and lifts her glass when you are both sitting down at the table. “To a wonderful birthday weekend.” She offers. “One you never forget.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” You tap your glass against hers and smile. “Forty-two feels like it will be a good one.”

******

“We have the cake, the burgers are all ready to throw on the grill. Fish is bringing the baked beans, Ironhead is bringing the potato salad and you said Rach’s boyfriend is going to bring the salsa?” He arches a brow in concern. “What do you know about this guy? Is it good salsa? Because I’m going to be offended if it’s Pace.”

“I was told he has a recipe from somebody he served with.” The Pace is in its jars in the cupboard where Santiago can’t be offended by it, and you slip past him to look at your checklist taped to the cupboards one more time. “Coleslaw is made, cheese dip is made, and you filled up the outside fridge last night so that’s all set. I think we’re okay. The last thing is the guac and that only makes a few minutes.”

Santiago slides behind you and wraps his arms around your stomach and hums. “So we have time to go back to the bedroom?” He asks playfully, even if he would haul you back there if you said yes.

“Only if you’re planning on disappointing me,” you tease, knowing he never has and never would. Not on purpose. Still, you twist to kiss away the pout that has certainly formed there. “People are going to be here any minute.”

“We could always tell them to go the fuck away.” He laughs as he suggests it and then the doorbell peels out right afterwards. “That’ll be Ironhead.” He predicts. “Will’s always early.”

“Is that his real name? Will?” You call back when Santiago goes to open the door. You can make guacamole with your eyes closed due to the fact that you’ve had this recipe longer than your daughter has been alive, and you go to the fridge to get the ingredients.

“Yeah!” He calls back over his shoulder before he opens the door to find his friend on the doorstep. The smiles are genuine, almost guilty considering the shit they’ve gone through for the past five months since South America. Grief and sorrow have pulled at them, but it also has finally started to let them live again. “You made it!”

“Of course I did. You didn’t think I’d miss out on seeing your ass do something domestic, did you?” Will ‘Ironhead’ Miller slaps Pope’s shoulder. “Nice place she’s got. You tried to move in yet?”

Pope chuckles quietly and shrugs. “Maybe in another month.” He jokes. “Gotta get in good with the kid first.”

“Right, the kid.” With another friendly slap, Will Miller steps inside the house. It’s well-appointed, clean, and obviously loved. “She coming today?” He thinks so, but he can’t remember. Although a barbecue and pool party seems like a kid thing. But somehow Will remembers the kid not being kid. Teenager? He can’t remember now.

“She spent the night with her boyfriend, but she’ll be here.” Pope nods. “Although she’s already said she won’t call me daddy but I can take her for ice cream.”

“Nobody ought to be calling you ‘Daddy’,” Ironhead huffs.

Santiago laughs and shrugs. “You’re right.” He admits, knowing that he’s not father material. One of the reasons you were an attractive option was that your kid was grown. He didn’t have to play daddy, although from what he’s understood, the dad was your first love and was too immature to stick around. “Benny didn’t ride with you?”

“His girlfriend’s got a family thing today.” Will shrugs slightly, but honestly he’s impressed. His kid brother is crazy about this girl. It’s six months in and he’s starting to use some very committed language — which is fucking thrilling to Will as it signals Benny finally starting to grow up where sex and relationships are concerned. “He’s gonna come by later.”

“That’s good. I want him to come and have a few beers. Fish should be here shortly.” Pope will be happy to see everyone, it’s better than just checking in and having a beer. This will be a good time to really catch up. “How’s things with Marie?” He asks Will softly, knowing that Frank has been a little closed mouth about things between him and his lady. South America hadn’t been great for their relationship, although no one really likes her, she’s the one who was dabbling in drugs and got Fish hooked on coke.

“She was throwing some fit last night about Fish being out with another woman.” Which is obviously bullshit. Frankie would never step out on the mother of his child. But living in the apartment next to Frankie and Marie means he overhears plenty of bullshit. “All he was doing was asking if she wanted to come today. So who knows what kind of mood he’ll show up in.”

“Shit.” Pope sighs and shakes his head as he escorts Will though the living room and towards the kitchen where you are. “He needs to just bite the bullet and leave her.”

“We all know that. But it’s Fish. Too loyal for his own fucking good.” Will hadn’t been expecting to see anyone standing in the kitchen, let alone you, and he clears his throat. “Um—sorry, ma’am. Soldier’s habit,” he apologizes.

“It’s fine,” you promise him, actually laughing at the sheer display of manners. “I survived my daughter’s teenage years. You want to know who swears more than soldiers? Teenage girls.”

It’s been a long goddamn time since Will has been around teenage girls, but he just nods politely and offers his hand. “Will Miller.” He introduces himself. “Santiago has talked you up to be some kind of Wonder Woman, and it looks like he was underestimating your worth.”

"That's very kind of you, Will." You take his hand and introduce yourself easily enough, reflecting momentarily that Santiago has pretty friends. Blonde and blue-eyed isn't your type, but good looking is good looking. "Would you mind helping us get the last few things outside? And the pool is open, I hope Santiago told everyone."

“Absolutely, ma’am.” Like any good solider, Will is going to follow orders and he immediately picks up the heavier items to carry outside. “You have a beautiful home.”

"Thank you." It's something you worked hard for, and you continue to work hard for every day. Everything in your life has been to make sure your daughter is healthy, happy, and well taken care of. It was a lucky break that you got a well-paying job in your field to boot. "And you don't have to call me ma'am. Though I appreciate the manners."

“We need to give her a nickname before Taz does.” Will snorts.

"Taz?" You haven't heard that name before, and it piques your interest as Santiago helps you set things out on the table on the deck.

Will chuckles. “Youngest in our team.” He explains. “Short for Tasmanian Devil. Brother’s like a whirlwind of stirring up shit.”

"Got it." The Army nickname thing had taken you a second to get used to, but you're on board now. It's a brotherhood thing, and you like that Santiago has such a tightknit group of friends still. It's not something you've really had much of in your life, so you're glad to see when it happens for people you care about it. "Well, I told Santiago, but whenever your friends get here just let them into the backyard. The bathroom is off the living room, but everything else worth getting at is outside."

“Yes ma’am.” He smirks slightly when he says that again before disappearing out of the sliding glass doors.

"Are all your friends polite and helpful?" You glance back at the man you've been seeing for the last few months and crack a smile. "I'm glad you invited them. It's about time we started to meet each other's friends."

“Until they are assholes.” He jokes, giving you a bittersweet smile. “We lost a friend half a year ago and it seems like we’ve had a hard time getting back in the routine. Thought this might be the little jolt we needed.”

"Then we'll make sure it's a fantastic day." He hasn't confided too much about his years in the service or about where he was before moving back to Florida a few months ago, but this is probably a large part of the reason why. Either way, you slip your arms around him for a comforting hug. It's the least you can do, when he's gone through something terrible and is willing to open about it a little.

“It’s your day.” He protests, turning and kissing your lips. “It’s supposed to be good for you, not me. We will have a few drinks, have a few laughs and then…” He waggles his brows. “Well kick everyone out and I’ll make you cum until you pass out.”

The hum that forms in the back of your throat is as pleased as it is dirty, and you kiss him once more before your doorbell rings again. "I'll get it," you nudge his nose with yours and step back, albeit reluctantly. "Go hang out with your friend."

People trickle in little by little. Friends from work, mostly, and the one mom from Rachel's school days that you stayed friends with despite Rachel and her son never actually having been friends. Eventually the text comes through from your daughter that she's a few minutes away and that makes you smile brighter than just about anything else today.

Pope pulls out his phone and texts Frankie, wondering when he’s coming – or if he’s going to come at all. He is worried about him, knowing that he’s under a lot of pressure. Marie blames him for losing his license and then going down to South America for two weeks when it was only supposed to be one. He couldn’t even tell her what happened and that was causing issues.

Had to wait for the babysitter. On my way now. Says the text that comes through a few minutes later, but there is a temporary distraction from waiting for Catfish: Rachel's car pulls up and parks outside the house, expelling both your daughter and her boyfriend onto the front lawn.

“Come on, Ben.” Rachel grabs his hand and rushes him towards the door. They are running behind because of the pre-party activities he had talked her into and while she’s not regretting that in the least, she wants to get inside and wish you happy birthday.

“Sounds like everybody’s out back, baby,” he steers her toward the fence surrounding the backyard instead of the front door, but when that brings him closer to the actual driveway of his girlfriend’s house he frowns — deeply — in confusion. He shouldn’t recognize the two vehicles sitting behind Rachel’s car and her mother’s, but there they are: Pope’s slick vintage Corvette right next to Will’s jacked up picked up truck. There’s no denying the two vehicles, he’s seen them together far too often. “The hell?” Benny breathes, but Rachel doesn’t hear him. She’s too excited to see her mom and moving them through the gate before he can hang back to do a double take at the cars.

“Mom!” Pope looks up at soon as he hears a familiar happy cry but then he’s immediately frowning. Watching as Ben Miller moves through the fence gate with Rachel. “What the fuck?”

“I told you she was bringing her boyfriend, didn’t I?” Santiago’s level of confusion is confusing in its own right, but you ignore it in favor of meeting your daughter at the edge of the porch to give her a massive hug. “Hey sweet pea!”

It helps that Benny looks just as stunned as Pope does, Will stopping short when he sees his younger brother and doesn’t hesitate to call out. “You made it!” He huffs out and shaking his head at his brother’s fickleness. “Girlfriend’s family already kick you out?”

“Nooo…” Benny blinks against the sunlight, having left his sunglasses in his truck. “You’re at the wrong party, assholes.”

The ball busting smirk immediately slides off of Will’s face, due to the knowledge that there is no way they could be at the wrong party. “Benny…” He glances at a stunned Pope and sighs heavily. “We’re at the right party.”

It only takes about a second more, but by the time Benny breathes “Ohhh shit.” He’s also cackling with laughter. “Are you telling me—” The younger Miller brother looks around and drops his voice for the sake of not embarrassing the girl he adores. “Are you telling me Pope is banging my girl’s mom?”

Will snorts and shakes his head. “Looks like.” He agrees quietly. “Hell of a birthday surprise.” He hopes that it won’t change your daughter’s mind on dating him, Rachel has been fantastic for Ben.

“Fuck….” Pope snickers quietly, shaking his head at the irony. He should probably go spell this out for you so you don’t take it the wrong way. No one knew. Even after hearing about Benny’s girlfriend for months, only Will and Fish had met her so far.

Rachel pulls back and gives you a beaming smile. “Happy Birthday Mom.” She hums, winking at you. “Santiago spend the night last night since I was with Ben?” She’s not been paying attention to the guys, too focused on you.

“We fell asleep watching our second movie.” It’s mostly true — true enough that you can play it off as innocent because you did technically nod off during the second movie — but the empty bowl of popcorn and wine glasses in the living room had waited until this morning to be cleared away once you hauled each other off to bed. “Did Ben have a fight last night or did you guys just go out?”

“No fight.” She shakes her head. “Next weekend, so we just got to go out. Although he wants to know if you would like to come to the fight.” You’ve met Benny and she thinks you like him, but she wants you to get to know him better. Which is why she had suggested they go to your party today instead of his friends’.

“If you want me to.” You don’t feel too excited to watch your daughter’s boyfriend get beat up, but you do want to get to know him better. Rach is so obviously head over heels for him.

“It’s up to you.” She smiles and looks back at Ben, curious to find Will here. “Um— what’s his brother doing here?”

“Whose brother?” Turning to follow her eyes, your head tilts slightly in interest. Santiago and Will are deep in conversation with Benny already. “That’s one of Santiago’s friends. Will.”

“Mom…” Rachel’s eyes widen slightly. “That’s Will Miller…Benny’s older brother.”

“That…” You swallow, slowly registering the situation as you watch the men interact. “That makes things interesting…” You’re dating a man who served with your daughter’s boyfriend…this is going to get complicated…

“Oh god.” Rachel bites her lip as Benny and Pope quickly break away and come over to the two of you. “So…”

“So, this is interesting.” You repeat the phrase almost disbelieving.

“Kind of a funny coincidence, huh?” Benny wraps his arms around Rachel and plants a kiss in her hair.

“I didn’t know.” Rachel promises you with a small shake of her head. “Shit, Ben. I can’t believe I didn’t know it.”

“I think I know why.” You observe, clearing your throat and accepting the comfort of Santiago’s arm around your waist as you look up (and up) at Ben. “I’m going to guess that your nickname while you were serving together was Taz?”

“Yeah.” Benny nods and looks back between all the other men. “Oh fuck, we’ve been just using our nicknames and they didn’t know.” He groans. "I'm sorry baby." He turns to Rachel with an apologetic look. "Pope was talking about his new girl and spending as much time as possible with her, so he missed the last fight you were at."

“It’s a little unconventional,” you admit, wondering what Santiago thinks of all this. “But not terrible, right?” As close in age as you and Rachel are, it wouldn’t be the first time you have had mutual friends. Just the first time you were ever dating mutual friends.

"He's a good guy." Pope assures you, like it's the first time you've met Benny. "And we can kick his ass if needed."

Benny snorts and rolls his eyes. "You wish, old man."

“Rach?” Your fingers run through her loose curls gently and you give her a questioning look. While this isn’t the day you want to have — after all, you do like Santiago — it’s ultimately up to her. Everything is and always has been in your life, and you made that decision for a reason.

"I don't think that you need to stop seeing Santiago just because he knows Ben." She rationalizes. "I think it's fine, what do you think?"

“Just as long as you’re comfortable with it.” That goes for the men involved, too. But they don’t seem to mind beyond being apologetic.

Rachel snorts and shrugs. "Just as long as they don't share sex stories." She giggles and shoots Santiago a smirk. "And we won't either."

“I was not planning on it, sweet pea.” You might be close, but that’s a step too far even for you. “Never ever.”

Agreeing completely, she walks up to Pope and gives him a hug. "So if you make my mom cry, I'll have my boyfriend beat you up." She teases.

“Got it.” She’s a grown woman, but he can’t resist the urge to mess with her thick hair, watching her face wrinkle in disapproval before she moves back to Benny, who smooths the familiar curls with care. “Now we just need Catfish to get here and we’ll have everybody.”

"I'm here!" A hand appears over the fence before he opens it, hat pulled low, and he grunts when he picks up the cooler full of ice and beer that he had stopped and picked up on the way. "Sorry I'm late."

“Fish!” Benny kisses the side of Rachel’s head before peeling off to grab the cooler from him and take it to the porch so his friend can catch his breath. He doesn’t see the tick in the tilt of your head or the way your eyes widen just a second later.

'Fish', or Francisco Morales, looks up and smirks at Benny when he grabs the cooler. Thankful, although he wouldn't make too much of a fuss about it. Getting older sucked and he's still feeling the effects of that workout he helped the other man do just two days ago when his normal sparring partner was sick. "'Bout time you made yourself useful." He huffs playfully and looking towards Pope to wave. Freezing with his arm halfway up in greeting when he sees someone that he had never expected to see before – you.

The way you shrink into yourself immediately is instinct. As much shock as anything else. But within seconds you’re stepping forward to block Rachel from view and shakily a demand an explanation. “What the shit is going on?” You hiss, though you’re not exactly sure who you’re talking to, you just don’t want to make a scene in front of your coworkers. They consider you to be such a calm, collected woman.

Frowning, Pope turns towards you, reaching out to touch your arm and stepping closer to you. "Babe— what's wrong? What are you talking about?" He follows your gaze back to Fish and he grunts in confusion. "Fish? He's another teammate. One of my best friends."

“Fuck.” Deflating on the spot, you feel like you could just collapse where you stand but that wouldn’t help the situation any. “We—we, um—know each other,” you explain quietly. “But it’s been a long time.”

Feeling like he's been kicked in the chest by one of those fucking mules, Frankie stumbles forward and murmurs your name softly. "I— what are you doing here?" He asks, frowning slightly.

“This is my house.” You wonder if Santiago even explained where he was inviting him, or if you have a nickname to their group just like they all do to each other. “I wouldn’t expect you to still remember my birthday.”

All the blood drains from his face and it falls into a wounded look. Realizing that you have to be Pope's girl. "I— remembered." He murmurs quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Seven billion people in the world. Figured someone else would have the same day too." It's almost a kick in the teeth, that comment of yours. Considering he had a fight with Marie because he had said your name this morning when he was talking to himself after waking up. You were the reason he had fought, again, with the mother of his child and she had pitched a fit and left. Making him wait on a babysitter so he could come to this party. To find out that it was for you. He's so fucking lucky that Marie isn't here. He clears his throat roughly and bites his lip. "Happy birthday, gatita." He uses the nickname from a million years ago and steps back. "I should go."

A press of overwhelming guilt and the instinct to stop him makes you reach out, grabbing his arm before you can stop yourself. “No. You shouldn’t.” You admit, even though it hurts.

"No," He shakes his head and gives you a wry smile. "I should." He sighs softly and looks over at Pope. "This is your girl, huh?" He asks, confusing the other man even more. "Keep her and take care of her." He tells him. "You'll regret it if you don't." He reaches for your hand and pries it off his arm gently, squeezing it before letting it go.

“Where’s Fish going?” Benny returns from the deck just a second too late, but just in time to watch Frankie leave again and see the bewildered looks on his friends’ faces.

"I don't fucking know." The entire day has been one big bag of surprises and Pope doesn't particularly like surprises. He turns towards you for some kind of explanation, although the nickname gatita sounds familiar, like Fish has mentioned it before. "You know Frank?"

“We grew up together.” It’s the best you can hiccup out before you take off like a shot, following Frankie through the gate. “Frankie!” He’s already down at the street, but he pauses when you call his name and it gives you time to catch up.

Waiting for you as you rush towards him, Frankie takes off his Standard Oil hat and scratches his hair. Struck by how nostalgic the moment is, waiting for you to catch up to him so many times once upon a lifetime ago. “Look, I’m sorry.” He sighs when you are closer. “I didn’t know, okay? I’m going.”

“I think you should stay.” Not as fit as you once were, you puff a little and put your arms around your waist. “We, uh—for Santiago, if nothing else. You’re his friend and I—I’m somebody you used to know.” And there is so, so much to tell him…

The idea that you might want him there makes him pause and he frowns slightly as he stares at you for a moment. “Only if you’re sure.” He still hesitates. “It’s your birthday after all.”

“It is.” And you’re not sure. You’re really not. But since he’s reappearing in your life almost twenty-five years later, the lump in your throat is winning over logic.

“Last time I saw you was on your birthday.” Frankie frowns, wondering how he could have been such a shit head back then. “Seems like the circle is complete.”

“Eighteen was a long time ago.” It was right before he left for boot camp, and you’d been pushing him to commit to you before he left. A stupid thing to do at such a young age. You know that now. But you were so stupid in love with him back then and there was so much going on.

“Yes it was.” He can admit that, biting his lip and shuffling slightly. “And I was an asshole.” He had broken his own damn heart, even if he hadn’t known it at the time.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard.” Squeezing your eyes shut makes you feel like your heart is going to burst, but the universe has decided that it’s time to finally time to come clean. “I was scared. And I’m sorry.”

“I was stupid.” Frankie has so many regrets from that time of his life, just compounded over the years and he almost steps closer to you, but he doesn’t. He can’t, he doesn’t have that right anymore. “I proved you right. I didn’t come back.” The argument is still confusing in his memory, just as much as it had confused him then. You had pushed to get married before he left and he had wanted to wait. It had become a sticking point and in his stubbornness, he had broken up with you.

“You didn’t come back and you didn’t have a cell phone…and then your parents moved.” With their only child moved on, Frankie’s father had accepted a transfer upstate from the Standard Heating & Oil Co that both of your fathers worked for. “I had—I had no way to talk to you. To—to tell you—” Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, surprising you since you thought you had cried every last tear you had over Frankie Morales.

“Tell me?” Frankie frowns and he does step closer, hating to see tears in your eyes again on a birthday. Especially because they seem to be because of him again. “Tell me what, gatita?”

“Fair warning.” Wiping at the corners of your eyes, you can’t quite look him in his even when you straighten out again. “You’ll hate me. And you probably should, at this point.”

“I don’t think I could hate you.” Frankie admits quietly, unable to even imagine a world where he would.

“You might.” Wiping your hands down your face and breathing out a deep, frustrated groan, you look up again to see the eyes of the boy who was your first everything looking back at you, and you crumble. “I didn’t have any way to contact you,” you repeat again, knowing you could and should have tried harder anyway. “And I was scared of losing you because — because I was pregnant.”

The way his brows pull down is instantaneous and he immediately puts his hands on his hips and twists around as he absorbs your news. “You— you were pregnant?” He chokes out, looking back at you with a wounded expression. “I— what? No? What— pregnant?”

“That’s…that’s why I was pushing you so hard to propose.” You admit, eyes cast down at the ground.

“You didn’t say a word.” Frankie shakes his head. “Why— why didn’t you tell me? If I had known—”

“I thought if I told you that you’d only run away from me faster.” Which, at eighteen years old, had seemed like pretty sound logic to you. “By the time I was scared enough to just want you there regardless, it was too late. You were…you were gone.”

“By the time—” he shakes his head, eyes wide and he swallows harshly. “What happened? Don’t— I— what are you saying?”

"I'm saying that you have a daughter." A fact which sticks in your throat now like you had tried to swallow a pinecone. "Who is smart, and kind, and headstrong, and stubborn as hell. But she's doing so well for herself that a lot of that stubbornness just slides right by."

Frankie blanks out for a minute, staring at you before he turns away. Grappling with his emotions as he bends over and tries to take a breath, groaning slightly in disbelief. “No.” He shakes his head, turning back to you. “No! Don’t tell me that!”

"I'm sorry." It isn't worth much, as apologies go, but you kneel down beside him on the grass and wonder if he'll be mad enough to strike out if you put a hand on his back. "I really am. You should have known a long time ago."

“Twenty-four,” he chokes out. “You are telling me I have a twenty-four year old daughter?” His face screws up in the regret and tears. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking.”

"I had no way to tell you." It's a lame excuse, or at least it feels lame, and you do rest your hand on his back but it's so gentle you don't even know if he can feel it.

“Oh fuck….fuck, fuck, fuck…..” Frankie moans, closing his eyes and his fists bunch against his thighs. “I-I-I— don’t— I can’t –”

"Frankie?" His breathing sounds panicked, and you soothe one hand in circles around his back. "Breathe, okay? Just breathe. Everything's okay. She—she's grown. She's raised. No one is asking you to do anything."

“I—I missed it.” He manages. “I missed everything.” Closing his eyes as he realizes that his trajectory of his life would have been vastly different if he had known.

Oh. It's the opposite. The exact opposite. He's not panicked that you're going to expect him to stay, like you thought he was. He's upset that he missed Rachel's childhood. "There's...there's still the whole rest of her life ahead."

“I— I should have been there.” He drops his head down even more. “Fuck— you must hate me. She must hate me.”

"It's my fault you didn't know. Why would I hate you?" As much as it has ever hurt to lose him, you've never actually hated him. Just missed him. Which isn't the same although they can be confused for each other. "And Rachel— Frankie, she knows the truth. That we were young and lost touch."

“Rachel.” He shakes his head, focusing on her name and it’s so goddamn familiar. “Her name is Rachel?”

"My aunt Rachel died right before she was born," you explain, wondering if he even remembers meeting your mother's sister a million and a half times at different family functions while you were together. He was always invited for every holiday.

“God.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head, hating that he had been such a fucking idiot back then. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers.

"I am, too." More sorry than you can possibly say, but what else can you do at this point but try to move forward?

“So I managed to ruin another birthday of yours.” He pushes aside the grief and sorrow that is threatening to overwhelm him and locks it down. Compartmentalize, shutting down, it’s what he knows best. He can freak out about this later when he’s left.

"It's not ruined." It's awkward, and it's uncomfortable, and you're not really sure what to do now. But it's not ruined. "It's—it's not—I don't know what today is, but it's..." you sigh heavily and stand up again. "I don't know, Frankie. If you want to leave that's up to you. But our lives cross now, and I know...I know Rachel would want to meet you."

“Oh god. Is she— is she there? Here?” He asks, shaking his head. “Can I meet her?”

"If I wasn't going to let you meet her, I would have just kept my mouth shut about the whole thing," you needle him gently. Just wishing he could or would do as much as crack a smile. It seems desperately needed.

The huff, the quarter of a smile is almost involuntary. Almost in disbelief and he looks over at you with a heavy stare. “I want to meet her.” He tells you quietly. “If I had known, things would have been so different for us, gatita.”

"No use crying over spilled milk, I think." Twenty-four years of regret is a lot to process, but you nod in acknowledgement. Just a small motion of thanks that he is at least saying out loud what you suspected.

“Fuck.” He huffs again and uncurls his hands to wipe them on his jeans. “I’m nervous.”

"Telling you not to be seems cruel," you huff, though you're not sure what else to say. "No one planned this. No one saw this coming. It will be as much of a shock to her as it is to you. As—as it was to me to see you."

“Forty-two.” He shakes his head and looks back over at you in awe. “You don’t look a day over fucking eighteen.” It might be a small embellishment, but you look amazing and so much like the girl he has loved for so long.

"You're not so bad yourself." Santiago may be on the other side of that fence, but a part of your heart has always and will always belong to scrawny Frankie Morales from Brooklyn. Even if he isn't scrawny anymore – which is a thing you can't help but notice.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, centering himself before he nods. “We should go back.” He murmurs.

"I promise she's not scary." Although you'll understand when it is a complete shock to her. And to the others. "Just...let me tell her first? I ran after you so fast that I didn't explain to anyone else yet."

Both of you stand up and he scrubs his hands on his jeans again. “Sure, sure.” He agrees, knowing that it could be sort of a shock, even if she’s known about him her whole life.

"Remember to breathe," you advise him with a wry chuckle, even though it's good advice for you too.

“When I remember how.” Frankie snorts, slightly pacing in place as he glances towards the back yard gate.

"Come on." Nodding toward the yard, you take a step in that direction to see if it will spur him on. The urge to offer him your hand is misplaced, and you have to quell it by putting your hands in your jeans pockets. "We've kept them waiting long enough."

Frankie exhales roughly and trails along behind you, wanting you to take the lead. He has to tell you about Luna at some point, but he will do that after he meets the daughter he never knew he had.

“Sorry about that.” Once you’re on the other side of the gate again, you see Rachel standing in the midst of Santiago, Benny, and Will all looking concerned. “That was…unexpected? Shall we say?”

“Mom?” Rachel moves closer to you and frowns as her eyes slide back to where Frankie is hanging back. “Why are you upset with Fish?” She asks softly, looking back at the other three men and then back at you. “You said you knew him? When? I don’t remember you dating him.” Your dates had been few and far between, even rarer that she had met them, but she would have remembered someone called Catfish.

“I’m not upset, sweet pea. I’m just surprised.” It’s a lie, but a prudent one. You are upset, and it’s because your little slice of peace has been disturbed. But no one did that on purpose, so you’ll just have to live with it. “Why don’t we—we should talk about this inside.”

“No. Here. Now.” She has inherited her stubbornness both you and Frankie. And she’s eyeing the man she had met a few months ago and hung out with suspiciously. He looks like he’s about to be sick and she’s not above taking a baseball bat to his knees if needed, whether or not she had liked him before.

“Rach, I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” you murmur, looking around the backyard. Most people are milling about and a few are in the pool, but they obviously all know something is up.

Rachel stares at you for a minute and then she shoots Frankie a glare because you look so upset before she turns around and marches towards the house.

“You guys, too,” you decide, figuring it’s probably best to get all of this over with. Santiago is dating you, Benny is dating Rachel, and Will is bound to find everything out soon enough.

There’s not a lot of hope for him with the glare shot his way, so Frankie hangs back for a moment. Reconciling the fact that Rachel is the girl that Benny has been dating. His daughter is dating his friend. His friend who has been bragging about his girl to him. And their sex life. He’s going to throw up or punch Ben in the mouth.

Once everyone is inside, you check to make sure the bathroom is empty and close the sliding doors tightly. Everyone outside can wait. This is far more important. “Everything is okay,” you start, making sure that right off the bat Rachel knows you aren’t mad and Santiago understands you don’t hate his best friend. His best friend. Fuck. “It was just—as surprising as it was to find out Santiago and Ben are friends…this is an even bigger surprise.”

Frankie leans on the side of the wall, staring at the tip of his boot as he tries to wait for you to tell Rachel. He can’t blurt it out, she’s your kid. Not his— not really. He hasn’t done a goddamn thing to help raise her, but he has to admire the job you’ve done.

"The thing is, Rach." Blowing out a breath, you reach out for your daughter's hand and just pray she won't hate you. "You wouldn't remember when I dated Frankie. Because it was before you were born."

“Hermano.” Pope’s eyes widen and the nickname clicks. He knew he had heard it before. “Gatita? This is—” he whistles quietly. “Mierda.”

When Rachel still looks confused, you breathe deeply and try your best not to shake. Or to chicken out. "There are a lot of blanks to fill in along the way, but...sweet pea...Frankie is—" Oh god, you're going to throw up. You're absolutely going to throw up. "He's your father."

You could hear a pin drop, or a mouse fart, the room is so quiet. Every head snapping towards Frankie in judgement and he doesn’t pay them any attention, focusing on the one person right now that matters. His daughter.

"I don't understand." Rachel stands bog still, clutching your hand with eyes as wide as saucers as she looks frantically between you and Frankie. She had liked this man. He is a good friend to Ben. But now she doesn't know what to think.

“Your mom and I were high school sweethearts.” Frankie isn’t sure what you might have told her, but he’s going to tell her what he knows to be true. “More like middle school, but you know?” He shrugs. “I didn’t know she was pregnant.” He promises. “I swear I didn’t know.”

Will sighs from the other side of the room. “Oh shit.”

"Everything I ever told you about him was the truth." You had worked hard to always be fair to Frankie when you were raising Rachel, even if it led to never telling her very much about him unless she asked. "He didn't know, and I had no way of telling him. It's been...it's been twenty-five years since we even spoke to each other. So you can understand why I was surprised to see him walk in today."

“And he’s friends with your boyfriend and mine.” There’s a note of disbelief in her voice that Frankie doesn’t blame her for.

“We were on the same team for years.” Frankie explains. “I was their pilot.”

“That’s why we lost touch,” you remind your daughter gently. “He left for boot camp.” Considering Ben isn’t the first Army boy that Rachel has dated, you have always sort of had a suspicion that she was subconsciously searching for her dad in these men. It just never occurred to you that it would actually work.

She looks at him, almost accusatory in her gaze. “Why did you never come back?” She demands. “If you loved her, why did you just walk away?”

That makes Frankie wince, and he shoves his hands in his pockets again. “Have you ever done something dumb and been too goddamn proud to admit you were wrong?” He asks quietly, and Pope, despite his own feelings about the entire situation, won’t let Frankie’s daughter twist in the wind.

“He used to talk about his gatita.” He interjects. “Regretting not making up with her and wishing he could get in contact with her.”

“It was harder back then, honey.” The gentle reminder is important, because Rachel might not have grown up in a world of luxury but she’s definitely never known a world without cell phones or social media. “When I told your grandparents that you were coming, we moved. It was just a little further outside the city, but the place was bigger and the neighborhood was safer. Your grandma found a better job and— and with neither of our families still in Brooklyn, we couldn’t have found each other. Even if your dad had come back looking for me, or tried to call our old apartment? We wouldn’t have been there.” At least she hasn’t ripped her hand out of yours yet. You’re considering that a good thing “We were kids, and we made mistakes. Very big ones. But you know he didn’t leave because he didn’t love you.”

“I would have never.” He promises, his voice thick with emotions. He shakes his head and frowns slightly. He doesn’t know why he didn’t realize who she was to him now that he knows. She looks just like a perfect combination of you and him, with your nose, thank God. But her ears curl just like his.

“Oh god…” In trying to process everything, Rachel glances up and looks at Frankie’s hat again, groaning to herself and wiping one hand at the bottom of her neck just like he does — but neither of them ever noticed the simile gesture. “I always just thought the hat was a funny coincidence,” she admits with a huff.

“My hat?” He takes it off and scrubs his hair quickly before putting it back on his head. “Had it since I was a kid.”

The Miller brothers look confused, and you offer them a wilted smile with your explanation. "Both of our fathers, Rach's grandfathers...they both worked for Standard for forever. That's how Frankie and I met."

“Oh shit.” Benny frowns slightly and moves over to Rachel’s side, squeezing her hip supportively.

"I know this is a lot." It's a lot for everyone, but you're mostly just talking to Rachel. Your whole adult life has been lived for your baby girl and now emotions are unraveling at light speed. "But nothing has to change. You're a grown woman, sweet pea. And whatever relationship you want with your Dad is up to you."

“I’ve spent time with him.” She admits quietly. “After a fight of Benny’s.” She looks back at Frankie and bites her lip. “But I’d like to get to know him as my dad.”

"I know this just got sprung on everybody," you murmur again. The fact is that right now you have a yard full of people and all you want to do is disappear under your comforter and pretend it isn't happening. "But...life throws you curveballs, right?"

“Yeah.” Frankie huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and feeling like his entire world has turned on its head. Wishing like hell he could snort a line but he promised himself he wouldn’t touch that shit again.

"We should give you guys some privacy." When Will finally speaks up, it's to motion to his brother and to Pope that maybe they should step outside. There are a lot of emotions creating tension in this room and they're not going to be made easier by having an audience.

Pope shuffles slightly, wanting to stay, but he also needs to think about this entire thing. The situation is blowing up and he doesn’t want to make things worse.

"Maybe you could throw the burgers on the grill? And we'll be out in a few minutes?" He had offered to be in charge of the grill today but that was before everything had gone to hell and now you have no idea what he's thinking. "And I promise we'll talk through everything, too."

“Of course.” He nods and doesn’t lean in to kiss you like he might have just a few minutes before walking in this house. Feeling almost guilty for the entire situation right now.

That missing kiss is enough to tell you that everything has changed. Santiago has never shied away from affection or from public displays, and this is exactly the time that a partner might have offered that kind of comfort. Whatever you end up talking to him about later, you're now prepared for him to end things. But you can't fault him for that. You had a baby with his best friend – even if you didn't know each other then.

“Baby?” Benny looks at Rachel, checking with her before he leaves.

"It's okay," she promises him, going up on her toes to kiss the corner of his mouth. "I'll find you when we come back out." And she's going to find a White Claw or six in the garage fridge, too. Fuck.

“Okay.” He shoots Frankie a worried look, not liking the despair on his friend’s face and shuffles to the door.

"I figured it might be easiest to just tell them the facts up front and then let all of us talk," you tell them both, now wondering if that was the right move at all.

“Yeah.” Frankie nods, understanding why you did it, but he looks over at Rachel with regret and waits for her to say something.

"Do you, actually...do you mind if I talk to Frankie—" Rachel hums awkwardly over it, before reconsidering. "If I talk to my father alone for a few minutes?" She sort of feels like they're ganging up on him, and while she has questions and she's sure that you do, too...hers are going to be very different from yours.

“I don’t mind.” Frankie glances back over at you for approval.

"I should go make the rounds outside." As much as you don't want to, it is your party and they are your guests out there. Most of whom noticed that something odd has happened even if they don't know what. Still, you nod and lean over to hug your daughter. "Come back out when you’re ready. Ben looked like he'll worry until you do."

“I will.” She promises and Frankie catches your eye as you glance over at him.

“Thanks.” He murmurs, thanking you for the opportunity to talk to Rachel. He knows you could have been very different with this entire thing. Blowing out a breath when you walk out and shut the door, he looks back at his grown daughter. “So hit me with it.” He tells her.

For a second Rachel is dumbfounded. She just stands and stares at him, but then her shoulders slump and she shrugs and she blows out a long sigh. “I guess I know the real reason my middle name is Francine,” she poses, shaking her head. “Mom said it was because The Nanny is her favourite show and I completely fucking believe that because she worships Fran Drescher, but I’m willing to bet that’s one of only like six lies she’s ever told me in my whole life and it’s actually because of you.”

“Francisco Alberto Morales.” He introduces himself to her quietly, nodding and trying not to be humbled by the fact that you gave your daughter a version of his name. Something to connect the two of you.

“And you guys were…you were together for a long time?” She knows the story. She’s heard it from you over and over again. But something in her feels like she needs to hear it confirmed from him.

“Seventh grade until her 18th birthday.” He frowns at the way that makes him sound, how callous it could be construed. He has just walked away after so long.

“And she wanted to get married.” Rachel prompts, needing these landmarks of the story confirmed for her.

“We had a plan.” He shuffles slightly and looks around the neat and well decorated home. You’ve done well for yourself and it shows. “I was going to get through boot camp and my ‘A’ school while she started college and then when I got to my first duty station, she would transfer to a school nearby.” His shoulders round when he remembers that last fight, the missing piece now clicked into place and with maturity, he can see that you had been terrified, not overbearing. “Her birthday, she blind-sided me with getting married.”

“She wanted to skip forward and get married first, and you didn’t agree.” She can see it from both sides, now. As an adult it makes sense why an eighteen-year-old planning his life would think his girlfriend was just trying to trap him — or even that she wanted the wedding more than she wanted him. “But…you never got married at all? Even after Mom?”

“No.” Marie isn’t married to him, he couldn’t do that even if he had been inclined to. She was still technically married to some guy in her past, or so she claimed. “But….”

“Oh god, don’t say Marie.” Rachel bursts out, talking before she can even think. “She’s awful, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. I didn’t feel like I had a right to say anything before but I totally do now and she’s abusive and terrible, and I will absolutely help you leave her if you need help. I’ll babysit Luna anytime and — oh my god Luna is my sister—”

Frankie shuffles and looks down at his feet. Marie hadn’t been at her best the first time that Rachel had come to the bar after the fight. She had been pissed off because his hearing had been postponed again and he wasn’t closer to getting his pilot’s license back.

“Look, if you’re happy, it’s whatever.” Rachel shuffles, not realizing she’s moving the same way as Frankie, and shrugs. She senses she’s hit a nerve. “I’ll still help with Luna whenever you need. I—I always wanted a baby sister…”

“She’s not bad.” Frankie had dealt with her for a long time and it seemed harder to leave than it was to stay. “That was a bad night.”

“If you say so.” She doesn’t believe him, but the very first day she meets her father isn’t the day to push too hard.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he looks around the house again. “Did you and your mom struggle?” He asks quietly.

“My grandparents helped.” The short answer is yes, but she doesn’t want to make him feel guilty. “We lived with them when I was little, then we moved down here when I was about thirteen. Mom got a job with Disney.”

Frankie nods, frowning slightly. He has his retirement and his Thrift Savings Plan from the military, which he will hopefully be able to not use once he gets his license back. He’s not in the best position to offer any kind of help, but he will. “You’re in school, right?” He asks.

“I’m getting my masters at UCF.” Rachel nods again. “I still live with Mom. Here, I mean. She didn’t make me leave or anything when I started college.”

She’s dedicated. Frankie knows that college, especially graduate programs, are expensive. “That’s good.” He bites his lip and wonders if the offer would offend her. “I have my G.I. Bill.” He mentions. “I can gift it to a spouse – which I don’t have.” He shrugs. “Or a child.”

It's a very sweet offer, but that doesn't really surprise her. She already knows Frankie is a sweet guy. "Save it for Luna," she tells him. "I have great scholarships, and that way she'll be able to look forward to school without worrying about student loans."

It’s feels like a rejection, even though he knows it’s not. He nods and clears his throat. “That’s good.” He has an odd sense of pride for her achievements, even though he had done nothing to contribute.

"What do you want to know about me?" There's probably plenty, but now Rachel feels a bit self-conscious. She's at least heard stories about him. All he knows about her is whatever Ben has told him.

“Everything.” The word tumbles out before he can stop himself and he looks embarrassed. “I— I want to know everything.”

"Everything is a lot," she laughs, but understands. She wants to know everything about him too. She's wondered about her father forever. "What if...what if we did some father/daughter stuff? I could come over and spend time with you and Luna or we could grab a drink sometimes? Just...exist together. And all the get to know you stuff will come in time?"

“Yeah.” He nods eagerly and smiles at her, his eyes crinkling and his face lighting up at the idea. “I like that. Any time. Any time at all.”

“Okay.” She’s feeling bone tired by all of this so she can only imagine how you and Frankie feel, but as Rachel moves over to the notepad on the far table to write her number down for him, she purses her lips slightly and tilts her head. Her thinking face. “Don’t…please don’t be too hard on Mom?” She asks, holding the slip of paper out to him a second later. “She doesn’t ever say it, but I know she’s missed you. And she worked so hard to raise me alone, she just…she deserves the world.”

“I’m not mad at your mother, querida.” He promises, taking the paper and looking down at it before he folds it up carefully and tucks it into his pocket. “I’m mad at myself.” He explains. “Too goddamn proud to admit I was wrong, and I apparently missed out on a hell of a life.” He looks up at her with pride. “And a hell of a daughter.”

“Well shucks, Paw,” she laughs, obviously very touched by the sentiment. “I guess we both have a bunch to catch up on. But we can do that.”

He snorts and huffs out a grin. “By the way, I’m going to punch your boyfriend in the mouth.” He warns Rachel. “So don’t go screaming at me when it happens.”

“Benny?” She makes an audible huffing sound. “What did he do?”

“You’ll find out.” He won’t say now, but he shrugs. “He deserves it, and he’ll know it.”

“Seems weird, but okay.” Men do weird things sometimes. She’s not so young that she doesn’t know that.

He chuckles and sweeps his head off his head again. “You look like your mother when you wrinkle your nose.”

“It’s funny.” She wrinkles her nose again but consciously, wondering if she really does look like you that way. “She always said I had your smile. And your ears.”

Frankie reaches out and brushes her curls back behind her ears and smiles. “You do have my ears.” He admits.

“Is it weird? She asks, stifling a laugh. “To realize that?”

“Surreal.” He admits with a sigh. “I don’t know what to think. I went from being too old to have a six-month-old, to being the dad to a grown ass woman.”

“I was teasing Mom about wanting a little sister last night,” Rachel admits with a groan at the irony. “Shows me right.”

Frankie smirks slightly and shrugs. “Isn’t life sometimes a kick in the teeth?”

******

“What a Fucking kick in the teeth.” Will pushes out a sigh in the backyard, cracking open the beer he grabbed from the cooler Fish brought.

“Yeah.” Pope frowns at the grill, pushing the perfectly aligned burgers with the spatula. “Who would have thought?”

"What are you gonna do?" It's not as though Pope has had a lot of time to think, but Will knows him long enough to know that the wheels are already spinning. They have all heard Fish talk about his gatita, and now that they know who she is? It at least warrants a reaction.

Pope glances over at Will before he looks back at the grill, his movements a little stiffer than just a moment before. “What can I do?” He asks rhetorically. “She was his first.”

"Just because she was his first doesn't mean that he has to be her last," Benny offers, not quite sure what else to say. They all know that Pope had been starting to fall for you, even if it had never been said. Now he is very obviously pulling back.

"No, but she would want him to be." He admits quietly. "She had told me about her first love. She didn't tell me his name." He says pointedly when Benny opens his mouth to ask the obvious question. "But she told me enough to know that she's still in love with him. And we know that Frankie never got over her."

"So it's not about stepping back," Will observes, sipping his beer in the hot Florida sun. "It's about letting them be together."

Closing the grill, Pope sighs, hands on his hips as he looks around the backyard and comes to his decision. "Don't you think Fish deserves to be happy?" He asks quietly.

"Of course he does." The idea that Will might think otherwise practically makes him clutch his proverbial pearls.

"And fuck knows we want Marie gone," Benny huffs under his breath.

"His gatita is the one to make both of those wishes come true." He's sure of it and he will bow out like a gentleman. It's the least he can do since the last half year of hell in his personal life is partially his responsibility. He had pushed Fish to come to South America. Pope looks back at both of the other men. "Want to help me fix Fish's life?"

Benny is the first to smirk, clapping his hands together and rubbing them dramatically. "You gonna pull a binder out of your ass or are we talking this one through?"

"First, I'm going to get really drunk and pretend like I'm not falling on a sword." Pope snorts, snatching the beer out of Will's hand and taking a drink. "Then, we're gonna figure out how to get Fish custody of Luna." He tells them quietly. "That little girl is the reason he's still with Marie."

"We just need proof that she's the one with the drug problem." Will mumbles, not wanting to say those words too loud. "And we need his hearing to go through so he can get his damn license back."

"Yeah." He sighs and points at Will. "Can you talk to your ex?" Pope asks, knowing it's a big favor. "She's still working in the DA's office, right? Maybe she can help us? Or know someone who can?" Being a paralegal isn't the same as being an assistant DA, but she knows people.

"I'll see if she can at least point me in the right direction," Will nods in agreement, knowing that as uncomfortable as talking to his ex-fiancée will be, it's definitely the right course of action. "She always like Fish. It shouldn't be too hard to get her to give an e-mail or phone number of who can help."

“Marie isn’t going be happy learning about Rachel.” Pope glances at Benny. “You know that.”

"She's going to be furious." Ben agrees, wiping his hand through his hair and blowing out a raspberry. "She's gonna think Fish kept it from her on purpose."

“Poor bastard looked like he was about to fall over.” Pope sighs. “I hate this.”

"We're gonna make it work," Benny promises him. "Sorry you got shoved into the middle of it, though."

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t and it actually really hurt that he was going to have to end things with you and pretend that he’s just friends with you, but his brother is worth it.

"Better to find out now than a year from now," Will offers, knowing it isn't a whole lot of comfort. But at least it's honest.

“Yeah.” You walk out of the house and he immediately turns to watch you. “Better now.” Santi murmurs, his heart aching.

******

Most people leave around dinner time, splintering off to nighttime plans or to go home to their families. Santiago, Frankie, and the Miller brothers stayed long enough to help you clean up and Rachel is loading the dishwasher when you realize Santiago has gone temporarily missing. On a hunch, you go down the hall to your bedroom and frown to see him there, tucking things back into his duffel bag.

"Decided not the stay the night?"

He hates that you caught him and he stands tall after shoving in a t-shirt and tamping down the guilty feeling. “It’s been a…surprising day.” He tells you. “Figured it might be better to change the plan for tonight.”

"Just for tonight?" You have a feeling you know the answer, but you want it out in the open. No questions or doubts.

His eyes slide away from you and for a moment, he falters. Wondering if this is the wrong thing to do. “No.” He admits, walking over to you and cupping your cheeks in his hand. “I am— was— falling in love with you.” He won’t lie to you. “But you’ve been in love with Frank for far longer than you’ve loved me.”

It's enormously frustrating for him to be both presumptuous and right. The last thing you want is to admit it, especially as tears press at the back of your eyes, and so a protest comes out of your mouth instead. "He's with someone else," you point out, knowing that someone mentioned it earlier. One of the Miller brothers, you think. "He's—he's—it's so complicated, Santi."

“I know it is.” His brow pinches together and he leans forward to kiss your forehead. “And if it’s too complicated, I won’t let you twist in the wind.” He promises. “But you deserve to find out if your love for him is still there.”

"This isn't how I saw today ending." Overwhelmed and next to tears was definitely not on the docket, but you're not going to beg him to stay. That's not the kind of girl you are anymore. You haven't been in a long time. "What a shitty birthday."

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Pope closes his own eyes and leans his forehead against yours. “I can stay if you want.” He offers in a whisper, feeling guilty all over as his resolve crumbles.

"You'd feel guilty if you did." He's a good man, that's why. It's part of what you liked so much about him when you met, and part of what's grown on you. "Like you were betraying Frankie."

“I would still stay.” He promises.

"You'd feel guilty and then you'd start to resent me." The defense mechanism of crossing your arms over your chest might guard you in spirit, but it doesn't stop you from feeling like utter dogshit in this moment. "Just...know that this isn't how I wanted things to go between us. That's all."

“I know.” He murmurs softly, the slight smile on his lips ironic. “I know, baby. I didn’t want this either.” He admits. “But I’m still going to be here for you. That won’t change.”

“Could I just ask you one favor before you go?” All things considered, it’s very minor and sort of the least you could possibly ask.

“Anything.” Pope would do anything for you, he’s proving that, but he wouldn’t deny you simple request if it’s in his power to take care of it.

“I don’t know if you’re going to see them at all tonight or not but just…don’t tell Rachel yet? She’s going to spend the night with Ben again and I know her. She’ll come straight home to be with me instead. I don’t want to ruin her night.”

He chuckles softly, aware of what that says about you as a mom. “You are a good woman.” He murmurs, leaning in kissing your forehead again. “I won’t say anything to her.”

“I’ll tell her tomorrow.” You promise him. It’s not that you want to hide things from her — it’s that you know she’ll act rashly out of loyalty to you if she finds out tonight. She might even break up with Ben, which is the last thing she actually wants or that you want for her.

“When you tell her is up to you.” He would never think that he should have an input on your relationship with Rachel or when you tell her. “Whenever you are comfortable.”

“Well…” A shrug and a half sigh are the best you can do, not really sure of what else to say. Maybe you’ll get on Pet Finder tonight and look for a cat. Or three.

“Oh…” Pope reaches into his bag and pulls out your gift. “I didn’t want to give this to you in front of everyone.” He tells you quietly. “But this is for you.”

��You didn’t have to.” Especially now. Especially with everything that’s happened today. But you still smile weakly and accept the bag. Yup. It’s gonna be me and three cranky, elderly cats. That’s my future. “I—um, thank you. It’s…very sweet of you. You’re a very sweet person.”

“No, I’m not.” Pope snorts as he steps back. “But you are worth the effort.”

Impulsively, it does make you want to ask why he’s leaving, then. But you know the answer. You know this is about you and Frankie having a past and that nothing is going to change Santiago’s loyalty to his best friend. What’s even more annoying is that you like that about him, it hits harder and hurts more. All you can say without letting the emotions through the floodgates is just to excuse yourself to grab the book of his that you borrowed because it’s downstairs in the living room.

Staring at the door, Pope sighs and pulls his phone out of his pocket to text Will. Deciding that he needs a drink after the emotional rollercoaster of the day.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

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munsonownsmyass · 2 years ago

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Fucking fuck me 👀🔥🫠💦

Frankie is hot. Santi is hot. Them together? Like this?! I mean... whoa, boy. I think I need a cold shower and after I've cooled of, I need to read the rest of this series 🥴🔥

Driving by to order one smut from the smutdonald's. dealer's choice

<.< >.>

.....but Frankie facefucking Santi would be a-ok

okay ilu baaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

DOWN ON MY KNEES

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Santiago Garcia

Summary: Santiago gets on his knees for Frankie.

Content: Explicit up the whazoo. MLM, and a very rough Frankie with a spoonful of brat taming to help the medicine go down (pssst, the medicine is his cock).

Homecoming Drabbles | Homecoming Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist

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The hard unforgiving wooden floor is digging into Santiago's knees. It's uncomfortable to say the least, the blunt pain eating into his kneecaps. He's going to bruise to shits, knees all black, blue and purple, he'll be paying the price for weeks, hobbling with every two steps. But like hell he's going to tell Frankie that.

Not when Frankie is looking at Santiago the way he is right now. Teeth bared, staring down at him. The obsidian pitch of his pupils eating into the warm brown. It's primal.

Rough fingers tangled in Santiago's curls as he grips him hard and stinging. Giving him no reprieve for air at all as Frankie holds Santiago in place, the tips of his nose pushing into the softness of his abdomen until he chokes, and still doesn't let go.

If you were here, Santiago wonders what you'd think, your sweet, little Francisco. There's nothing sweet or little about the man now.

No, that thick intimidating girth blocking Santiago's airways, filling his entire goddamned throat until he swears it must be halfway down his lungs by now, is hardly little.

Fuck, the man's thick.

"What's wrong Pope? Thought you said you could handle it."

That warm palm of Frankie's, calloused and worn, comes to cradle Santiago's jaw, fingers fanning over his stretched and bulging cheek, and Frankie taps him there. Not hard, and that's worse somehow. It's soft, and amused, condescending, the way you'd pat an errand boy for doing a good job.

Asshole.

Tears are prickling the corners of his eyes, and it's about all Santiago can manage, to stay still and keep his eyes open so they don't breach the barrier and streak down his cheeks.

And he's not even sure he can actually manage that, because every nerve in him is screaming for air. Begging him to pull away and run the other way. And he would, if it wasn't for his own stubbornness. He would if it wasn't for that infuriating expression plastered on Frankie's face right now.

Santiago swallows around the man, and fuck, that's a mistake. The insides of his throats constricts around Frankie's cock, hugging around every inch of this Behemoth lodged inside him. It's like his body panics at the realization of just how big Frankie is, eyes welling up and he gags. Everything burns, as he desperately tries to swallow down his chocked coughs until he finally has to pull off.

Fuck! fuck!

Irritation burns across cheeks, and prickles across Santiago's swollen lips. He's a mess. Drool and spit running wet and sticky down his chin and he brings the back of his hand to wipe it off.

"Is it too much for you?" Boa handles me just fine."

Santiago grits his teeth at the taunt. He knows Frankie is doing it just to get a rise out of him. Knows that Frankie is needling his competitive streak. It's transparent as day. It's just annoying that the man succeeds.

"Fu-fuck you Frank!" It doesn't come out nearly as defiant and irritated as he intended to. Instead it's breathless, and flustered, and that irritates him even more.

There's a slow smile curling on Frankie's lips at that and before Santiago is able to think of better smart retort, that familiar wide palm of Frankie's already back, pulling Santiago forward by the scruff of his neck.

"Thought that's what you'd say," Frankie says. Then he pushes Santiago forward, the rest of the way, guiding Santiago back down on him.

The fat, heavy tip of Frankie's cock rests and prods against Santiago's lips until he slides in with a deep groan that reverberates and embeds itself somewhere deep in Santiago's skull.

It sends a shiver through Santiago that has him curling the tip of his toes. Everything in him aches. He's so hard, cock straining against the seam of his jeans, he's surprised the stitches haven't torn by now. His own hand comes to the front of his jeans, palming the bulge clumsily. There's a pleasure that skitters up the back of his neck so pleasantly that if Frankie's thick cock wasn't in the way, Santiago is pretty sure he'd be moaning.

"Fuck, that's a good look on you, Santiago."

Frankie's tone is almost awed as he says it. The honed sharpness softening around the edges as he stares down at Santiago. There's love there. Adoration. And there's nothing wrong with that...

But Santiago would be lying to himself that the Frankie with dark eyes, rough palms against his neck and taunting grin mocking him wasn't a turn on. He slides his mouth off the man, chin tilted up to stare up in defiance.

"Real good at playing tough when Boa's not around, aren't you?"

That's all it takes.

Something sparks behind those warm eyes until they're incinerating. Frankie reaches over, large hand wrapped around Santiago's throat that has his cock twitching and jerking against the strained denim. Precome leaking down the tip of him soaking his boxers from excitement at the man's grip around his airpipe with just the right pressure that he likes.

Then Frankie leans down, close enough that his lips brush against Santiago's ear.

"Our wife's not here to spoil you now, and I'm not planning on taking it easy on you Pope, so I'd save that smart little mouth of yours right about now."

Santiago grins. Frankie's right. If you were here, you'd spoil Santiago. If you were here Frankie wouldn't be quite this rough. If you were here that is... but you're not.

And in this moment, Santiago can't bring himself to be sorry that you're not.

Dedication: To @jazzelsaur for this demented thot. And to my beloved moose @thirstworldproblemss who helped me finish it.

#frankie morales x santiago garcia #francisco morales x santiago garcia #fish x pope #holy hell this was something 👀🔥

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romanarose · 6 months ago

Text

Awake

Fem!Reader x Santiago Garcia, Francisco Morales, Ben Miller, Will Miller Santiago Garcia x Will Miller Ben Miller x Francisco Morales

All TF boys and reader mix except Miller Brothers

Awakening Series masterlist

YOU DO NOT NEED TO READ ANY OF THE OTHERS! There's a good story here about coming out, bisexuality, literally "awakening". This is the finally, where everyone is awake.

Written for my (day late lol) Oscar Pedro Pride Event, week 3, Sex/kissing!!!

Summary: You take Santi, Will, Frankie, and Ben all inside you at once. That's the fic.

Warnings and content: Literally everything. BJ's, triple penetration, double vaginal penetration, bukake, just like. im not listing everything happening but its a lot. everything bisexual. Then aftercare!

A/N its been NINE MONTHS!!! since i updated. I get it if no one cares anymore lololololol. Anyway THIS IS IT!!! the end!!!!!

*********************

It was amazing how, after all these months, the stretch of Will’s cock still got to you having to catch you breath.

Things were good, really fucking good these days. You, Will, and Santiago had a discussion about the relationship; firstly, between you and Santi where you both agreed that yes, you both wanted Will involved. You weren't sure how or if he really wanted to, but he meant too much to both of you to just keep pretending it was the same as when Ben or Frankie were inside you. Then, you talked to Will. He agreed that yes, he had feelings for both you and your husband. However, he was not at a place right now; he didn’t want to move too quickly. So you didn’t. Will came over sometimes and stayed the night, fucked you and Santi and got fucked in a tangled up mess on the bed… no labels, just taking it easy.

On the other side of things, Ben moved out of Will’s and in with Frankie a week after the camping trip. They were completely inseparable and 2 months later, engaged. 3 months after that, you were standing as a witness in a courthouse for their wedding and cooking multiple hot plates for a backyard potluck reception. Frankie was not one for being in the spotlight, and Ben was not one to dress up.

Now, you watch as your husband lay on the bed next to you, Frankie fucking his ass while his own husband eats him from behind. Your tits bounced with each thrust of Will’s hips, your arms wrapped around his back and stuck to it with sweat. You watch, Will’s breath against your neck, as Santi writhes in pleasure, hips bucking up to meet Ben’s mouth. Your hands were laced together.

Santi turns to you, smiling with his eyes glancing over your body. “You look…” He pants. “Really fucking good like this.”

You laugh a little. “So do you.”

You both grin at each other, unbelieving of your luck to find such a group. 4 men who you trusted with your life and your body to take care of you, and for you to take care in return. Will gently cupped your face, guiding your mouth to where his waited. His touch was a stark softness compared to the way his cock continued to pound into you.

“You doing okay, princess?” He took your lower lip with his as he pulled away, drawing out the tender kiss. Beside you was the sound of Santiago getting absolutely fucking railed by Frankie.

“I’m fucking fantastic.” You confirm, then nod to Santi with a cheeky smile. “I don’t know about him, though.”

Santi’s grip on your hand was like a vice, head propped back as he was practically screaming on his oldest friends dick.

Will chuckles. “He’s still not used to taking a dick.”

Careful as to not reject Will’s affections, you nudge him off you. You feel empty without him inside, but your husband calls. “Baby…” You caress his face after crawling next to him, knelt by his side. Your hand reaches out for Frankie, but he’s already slowing. “Baby are you okay?” You protected Santiago the way he always protected you.

Slow and bleary, Santiago opened his eyes, chuckling with disbelief. “I’ve never been better, baby girl.”

You and Ben lay up against your husband's arms, both your men feeding you water. Santi reminds Will to drink, and he does before wiping off you, Santi, and Frankie with a cool towel before passing it to Frankie for Ben. Will always watched out for Benny during group sex just as on the field, but was not about touch during these moments. As Will watched his brother smile in Frankie’s arms, however, he knew he was okay. Frankie took care of him.

Ben turned to you with his dopey grin. “How does it feel watching your husband regularly get his ass stretched?”

This makes you laugh, and you give him a kick. “Pretty fucking good, especially if I’m sitting on his face.”

Santi’s arms were wrapped lovingly around you, chest to chest, his dick deep up inside your swollen and tired pussy. He’d gone in easy, and you signed as Frankie bottomed out into your ass. Two down, two to go.

Frankie’s massive hands played with your hair, his mouth kissing your neck, moving up to nibble on your earlobe. “You feel me, baby? Feel me and Santi right up in you?” He gave a thrust inside, making Santi’s chest rumble in pleasure. “I can sure feel him, mmm, fuck, it’s just… I can feel that thick vein of his when I move.”

“I know just what you mean.” You say with a smile, egging him on. Santiago had the most perfect cock you’d ever seen in your life; long, thick, and veiny. Curved up just a little bit in a way that hit you juuuust right. “Gotta feel him inside you one of these times, Frankie” You right back and grab his thigh. “He fills you up in just the best way.”

The older man looks up to where Ben stood at the edge of your bed, hands soothing you and stimulating erogenous zones. He sometimes pauses to play with your hair, which you particularly love. When Ben sees Francisco looking at him, he goes for a kiss.

“I’d love to see that, Fish.” He likes his tongue over his lover’s face. “Watch Santi struggle to take you, watch him fucking whimper on your cock.”

Frankie was equally enthralled as Will situated himself in the back, getting ready to slide in right there with Santi in your cunt. Will’s hand splayed across Frankie’s ass, thumb sliding into his asshole as he moved his fellow soldier around right where he needed to be. In general, Francisco liked to take charge in the bedroom, but when it came to Will, everyone fell under his order. He was tall, large, companding but had the competence to back it. The last time you were all together, Santiago stayed on the sidelines for the most part to make sure you were safe and happy. Now, however, you’d all experienced so much, he trusted all the men to take care of you, take care of him, take care of each other. Now, Will slides into his natural element as the leader.

Squeezing an ample amount of lube on his hand, he covered not only his cock but added it to Frankie and Santi. You had no problems getting wet and they always took careful time to open you up, but he wasn’t taking chances with your precious body. His thumb was obviously nothing compared to Ben’s dick, but he wasn’t trying to split him up, just to add to the pleasure of being inside you. Santi languidly kissed at your lips as Will spoke to Frankie.

“I’ll fuck this tight little hole of yours while you’re inside Santi, hm? Thrust into you hard enough I drive you into him?”

Frankie moans at the thought, and Benny bends down to join in this kiss between you and Santi. You both excitedly welcome him in, tongues wrestling as he kisses between words. “And I can fuck our favorite lady while you guys are our personal porn.”

Santi sucked on your bottom lip. “Want me to be your pornstar, mi amor? You like watching me take it up the ass for you to get off to?” He punctuated his point with a harsh thrust up, spearing his cock inside. The moans from Frankie were nothing compared to the sounds you let out. He looked over your shoulder at Will. “She’s ready, fill her up.”

With his thumb continued to fuck Frankie, Will’s other hand was firmly placed on your ass. It wasn’t for guidance or smack or to massage… it was just there to ground you. You cry out against Santi’s neck you were sucking on, Will slowly and carefully inserting himself into you. There's so much of him to take, inch after inch it never seemed to end. Santi’s hands went to Will’s hips, stopping him. He wasn’t going to be able to bottom out just based on the sheer amount of people occupying a small space, but what he was able to fit in was almost too much. When Will stops, Santi holds your face. “You okay, bebita?” He asks you gently. “Is it too much?”

You take a deep, steadying breath and shake your head. It was a lot. Like a fucking a lot. “No, no I think I’m good.”

“Princess.” Will spoke above you. “We don’t wanna do nothing based on ‘I think.’ If you gotta stop or slow down, we want you to tell him.”

Considering his words, you believe him. You knew firmly that they would never want you uncomfortable outside of the stretch you begged for… And you probably could take them all fully… but you decided to call it.

“Just…” You turn around to see his softly smiling face, Will’s beard still glistening with your wetness, Frankie’s chest sticking to your skin. “Don’t go any further, okay? The stretch is good, you don’t gotta take it easy or nothing just…”

Will bent around Frankie to kiss your lips, tender and sweet before Ben takes your mouth. “I got you, princess. I won’t push it.” And you knew he wouldn’t. Last but not last was Benny. You could understand why Frankie and him were always sneaking away to suck each other's dicks, Ben had a nice one indeed, one you enjoyed as he slid into your mouth.

Santi in your pussy, holding you and Frankie both close. He fucked up into you, cock rubbing against Will’s where they were nestled in together. Will wrapped an arm around Frankie, playing with his nipples as Frankie humped his ass against Wills torso while fucking you in yours. His moans were swallowed by Ben, who kissed his husband while fucking you throat.

“Mi chica perfecta…” Santi whispers between wet kisses to your skin. “Letting me and my friends use all your holes, let off some steam… letting us break you in…”

You whimpering against Ben’s dick in affirmative. You loved degradation, you loved being objectified and they all knew it, because after it all was said and done, they touched you and cared for you in such a gentle way that assured you that they loved you in all their unique ways.

Soft stroke of a thumb over your ass steadied you as you listened to the kissing above you and Santi. Will’s gentle reassurance compared to hard pounding you were taking from behind.

“Could’ve used something like her back in the service, couldn’t we boys? Something fuck after a long day, a pretty little toy.”

Frankie disengaged from Ben, a string of spit connecting them for a few moments longer. “Maybe we wouldn’t have waited 20 years to come out of the closet.”

“Speak for yourself.” Ben laughs, thrusting into your mouth. “I took full advantage of the frequent moving around and secretive bars.”

“Slut” Will laughs, shaking his head at his baby brother's antics.

Santi spoke from below you, never stopping humping his hips up. “You’re one to talk, IronHead.” This resulted in a smack to Will’s thigh. You felt full beyond belief feeling yourself approach orgasm as the men you loved use your holes and your body, bringing you and each other pleasure. Ben alternates between thrusting into your mouth, then pulling out and putting it to Frankie’s lips. Benny is quick with praise for you and Frankie, never making you feel like you were just an aid to their relationship despite the degrading teasing. Behind you, Will and Santi’s hands were all over each other and Frankie, Santi even reaching back at points to plays with Benny’s tightening balls.

“You feel that, Will? Our princess is getting ready to come for us again.” Santi laughs mockingly, but you are. What on earth is going to feel like coming on 3 dicks? You can’t imagine having room to even clench right now, your body stiffening in pleasure and pain as everything became so dizzyingly good. You close your eyes, losing yourself in the joy, the closeness, the extreme trust that it takes to pull off something like that. The love that is found, romantic, friendship, brotherhood in multiple ways. Will managed to hike up Santi’s ass just enough to stuff his fingers inside, making both Santiago and Francisco moaning like moans on Will’s fingers, Ben guiding them to kiss. You join in, and so does Benny’s dick. You, Fankie and Santi slobber and kiss and suck in such a mess that half the time you don’t know whose skin you are kissing.

You pussy and ass begins to feel raw, the pleasure still whirling in your stomach but beginning to be distracted by the discomfort between your legs. You tap Santi, wet lips against his cheek as you’re barely aware of anything else. “Approaching yellow, baby” You warn, punctuating it with a kiss so he knew it wasn’t anything serious. Santi could sometimes get dom drop. It wasn’t often, but you liked to make sure he knew everything was okay.

Holding up a hand, Santi halted everyone’s movements. Will rested his head against Frankie’s lower back, panting. Ben dropped to his knees to take your hand in his. Frankie kissed your sweaty shoulder blades.

But Santi is who you communicated to. You trusted them all, but Santi will always be your husband, your baby, tu amor.

“You okay, bebita?” He asks with a gentle timber, his low voice rumbling against your chest.

“I’m okay, I just think after I come, I wanna get to the grand finale.” You say with a laugh and a kiss.

He kisses you right back, signaling everyone to get back to work. Ben, instead of fucking your mouth, stays on his knees to massage your neck and shoulders. “Come whenever you're ready, darl’n.” Ben’s absurdly deep voice tells you.

It takes less than a minute and you’re coming on 3 hard dicks stuffed inside your holes, Will letting out a guttural sound that told you it was taking everything in him not to come inside you. You shake under the force of your orgasm, finger nails digging into Santi’s soft, bare skin. Everything was so fucking perfect, your senses blocking out anything that wasn’t immense pleasure. You couldn’t hear a word of their praises, you couldn’t smell the musk of marathon sex, you couldn’t see the men who swarmed around you like bees to their queen. You were blinded by the light.

Santi kissed your skin, no longer moving. He knew how sensitive you could get after coming.

“Everyone ready?” He asked, Frankie desperately humping your ass, chasing the high.

“Fuck, I’m so close…”

“Have Benny get you there, I think she’s sore.”

And you were. You were actually quite sore and you were glad you had someone who knew you as well as Santiago did to watch out for you. You were perfectly fine saying no, stop, not yet, later, etc. You trusted Frankie completely. But it was nice to have someone who knew you so completely that you didn’t even need to say it.

Frankie got up with no problem, kissing your lips and whispering a thank you. Ben spits in his hand, and while they make out like teenagers he brings Frankie to the brink. Ben grabbed the wipes, cleaning his husband off in case you end up blowing him. You knew you didn’t want any ass to mouth action. Santi and Will slowly get out of you, leaving you feeling empty without them. You look forward to whatever the future holds for the three of you, whatever parts Will was willing to give. Will’s massive arms pick you up, careful when he sets you on your knees on the carpet.

Seeing 4 gorgeous, stacked, hung men standing in front of you… you were revived and needed a taste. You put Santi’s dick in your mouth first, fisting Ben and Frankie, then alternating to taste all four of them in your mouth. Delicious.

Then, then all swarm you, jerking their cocks rapidly until cum came flying out, splattering your face, your tits, your laved out tongue in white. They dump their hot spend on you, groaning and grunting and kissing each other and all you could hear was the sounds of their pleasure and the fap, fap, fap of their masturbation.

When they were done, they wiped their tips in their hair.

Santi washed your hair in the shower, Will’s arms around you keeping you steady. The water was warm, not too hot, and he was very careful cleaning you and Will up. They both dried you with warm towels, as Frankie drew Ben in. You liked that Frankie washed Ben’s hair too, despite a 4 inch height difference. Will took you to bed while Santi made sure Frankie and Ben had enough towels and knew where shower items were.

For a while, you just lay there in Will’s arms, listening to Frankie tell Ben to “stop messing with the water” and “it doesn’t need to be hotter, this ain’t a hot tub!” followed by Ben yelping how the water is too hot. You can feel Ben laugh. Santi gives you and Will water, instructing you both to drink as he settles into bed on the other side of Will. When Frankie and Ben return, Ben is carrying a butt naked Frankie, ass first, over the shoulder and into the room before flopping him down on the bed.

“It’s my turn to take care of you, idiot.”

And he did. He dried Frankie off, gave him water, fed him some raisins which you though was odd but to each their own.

“Santiago, why don’t you ever feed me raisins?” You teased him.

“Because I love you, they are sickos.”

Will kissed your forehead. “I’ll feed you raisens, princess.”

“I don’t even like raisins.”

Will groaned.

But they all slept there that night, in your marital bed, tangled up and limbs on limbs, arms slung across wastes and lips to skin.

It was nice like this.

******************

Well, after a year and a half i finally finished this bitch!!!! one less series to worry about!!!!

Pease let me know what you think, I sure hope this was worth it! Begining was hard to write, but once i got in the zone it's all over!!!!

I hope y'all enjoyed it! I sure enjoyed writing it!!!!

@bit-dodgy-innit @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @cocodiem @imwaytooobsessedwithpedro @twistedboxy @juneknight @angelbabyyy99 @marshmallow--3 @ahookedheroespureheart @kandik @moonknightly @storyarcscribe @itspdameronthings @lou-la-lou @axshadows @saintbedelia @your-voice-is-mellifluousuous @nana90azevedo @luciferiorbxtch @djarinluvr @aretha170 @mystinky-butt @uglie-hoe @sirenphrynne @sammierae-16 @thismessthatsm @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @gogh-with-the-flow @paintlavillered @tiny-raccon @luciferiorbxtch @feltonswifesworld87 @whitearmsredhands @pimosworld @mrscadilllac @i-wanna-be-your-muse @violentdelightsandviolentends @lunar-ghoulie @meveispunk @missdictatorme @itspdameronthings @lonelyisamyw-0love @poeedameronn @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @luke-o-lophus @the-soulofdevil-reads @thepowerthismanhasoverme @miraclesabound @simps-central @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @ssuperficialspacecadett @munson-hargrove-barnes86 @broken-arrow-ambassador @thedreadandthefugitivemind

@casa-boiardi @littlevenicebitch @caelumcvre @sub-aro @del-ightfulling @frecklefacelm @wandasbitch22 @thepowerthismanhasoverme @csarab615

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magpiepills · 7 months ago

Text

Honor and Obey

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Santiago Garcia x Santi’s wife! Reader

Word count: 3.9

Summary:you are Santi’s wife and when Frankie moves in, you have an idea that Santi helps you make a reality.

Warnings: SMUT! Threesome, sort of fucking, oral m and f receiving, m/m dynamics, sort of dom reader, sort of sub Frankie and Santi, Frankie is the Pussy Eating King, big dicks, teasing, flirting, mentions of alcohol, mentions of curls, fuck licking, cum shots, creampies, a little overstimulation, one spank, pwp, just porn. Possibly more, idk.

A word from the author: This is a repost! this has been rotting away in my WIPs for months. I am in a little slump working on Made Me Love You, so I decided to finish this to hopefully get things going again. It’s not my best work, and I may fix it up and post another version some other time. Maybe not. Who knows. Anyway, here it is.

Frankie knew exactly what he was getting into when he came to stay with his best friend and his new wife after his lady finally kicked him out. The lies and the coke and the abandonment for misguided jungle romps were finally too much for her.

When Santi offered the spare bedroom in the house they’d just bought, Frankie gladly accepted. How could he say no to a roof over his head, his best friend down the hall, and you?

It was so innocent at first that he felt like it was his fault. You’d left the door open when you showered. He didn’t mean to see you, naked and wet, patting your hair with a towel when he walked down the hall. He reluctantly looked away.

When the three of you lounged by the pool, he dove into the water when Santi untied your top and reapplied your sunscreen, then left you shiny, slick, and bare under the warm July sun. Frankie didn’t bother pretending not to look. You smiled at him and raised one knee, planting your foot on the lounge chair and letting it drop just enough to give Frankie something to think about later in his room alone, heavy cock in his fist.

Frankie couldn’t deny his attraction to you. Anyone who looked at you would fall for you. You were beautiful in an effortless way, warm and always interested in what others had to say, making everyone feel special and important. Your hair, your face, your body, your voice, Frankie knew exactly what had attracted his lovesick friend to you.

Once he understood what you wanted, he even let himself flirt with you a bit. He winked at you when your eyes met. He went commando under his gray sweatpants, settling them low on his waist, jutting his hips out just so while he stood at the foot of the couch while you read. He let his touch linger on your waist when he scooted between you and the counter in the kitchen, fingertip grazing the soft skin under your shirt, light enough that you might believe it was an accident.

•••••••••••••••••

Weeks went by, glances became stares, and brushes of bare skin became teasing touches. Frankie was in a constant state of sexual frustration. His mouth watered, his cock was half hard, he spilled his seed over his stomach every night as he thought of you. You bent over the couch, you on your knees, you sitting on his face and coming on his tongue. He imagined what you might sound like when you begged him to fuck you harder. It drove him mad.

•••••••••••••••

Your own patience was wearing thin. You weren’t sure how much longer you could restrain yourself, to play innocent, keep your hands to yourself. How many more ways could you temp him? You’d done your best to goad him into coming on to you, but he had never crossed the line from longful looks and lingering touches. Every day you wanted to push Frankie against a wall and drop to your knees taking his cock as far down your throat as you could. He just didn’t seem to be getting the message. Santi laughed at your failed seduction, he had tried to help, but couldn’t be mad at the restraint Frankie had shown with another man’s wife.

When you couldn’t wait any longer, Santiago had taken Frankie out for a drink and clapped him on the shoulder as he explained that he needed Frankie to stop being so respectful. It took several more drinks before Frankie was convinced it wasn’t a joke or a trick and that you actually wanted to fuck him and that Santi was not just ok with it, that you’d be fucking them both. His head spun, not just from the Stella.

••••••••••

Two nights later, it was time for your date as you’d taken to calling it. You had told Santi exactly what was to happen. “He’s going to be good, isn’t he Santi?” You asked him, nuzzling into his chest while you sat waiting with your husband for his best friend to get out of the shower. Santi never got tired of telling you how much he and his friend were going to enjoy sharing you. He hummed into your hair, thick arms around your waist. You let your mind drift to images of Frankie in the steamy stall, soaping his body, suds rolling down his broad chest to his soft belly. Images of his big hands sliding over his arms and to his cock. You knew it must be something special. You’d seen him in those sweatpants, knees spread wide on the couch. His bulge may as well have had a neon arrow pointing at it.

When Frankie emerged, warm and slightly damp, smelling like citrus and mint, hair damp and curling wildly, you pressed a drink into his hand and guided him to the couch next to Santiago while you took your seat in a chair across from them. Santi raises his own glass in silent, subtle greeting as you spoke, soft and sweet. There was no sense in wasting time.

“Touch him.”

Your command was gentle.

“Touch him?” Frankie asked, eyes wide and voice wavering.

You nod and smile patiently, your eyes never breaking his gaze as you sip from your glass before continuing. “Why don’t you help him out of his shirt?”

Frankie shifted up onto his knees and scooted closer to his friend, he had heard what you said too, and made room for Frankie between his legs. There was no hesitancy about him at all, just a buzz of desire and the smell of sweet cologne.

“Gotta do what she wants, Fish. Happy wife, happy life, right?” Santi’s gaze was steady and sure, leaving no room for second thoughts.

Kneeling between Santiago’s knees on the couch, he reached hesitantly for the hem, tongue slowly licking across his bottom lip as he pulled the t-shirt over his friend's head, making his thick, dark curls bounce.

Frankie tossed the shirt at your feet.

“Now yours. Let him take it off.” Your directions were cool and calm, but heat was building inside you, Santi had delivered on his promise to bring you your third and now it was time to see how he would behave for you.

Frankie kept his eyes on you as Santi leaned forward to drag the shirt up Frankie’s torso, finally revealing his strong, wide shoulders and a soft belly with a trail of dark hair leading down under his jeans.

He was perfect.

“I’d like Santi to kiss you, Frankie. Is that alright?”

Frankie nodded, but didn’t look back at his friend until Santi wrapped his warm hand around the back of his neck. Frankie let his eyes fall, glassy and half lidded, to Santi’s plush lips, then lifted them to meet the other man’s intense gaze. Frankie lifted his own hand and mirrored Santi’s grip on his neck before tilting his head slightly, just enough for Santi to catch his lips in a deep kiss.

Santi, of course, had left this part out. He had explained that his wife wanted to have sex with him, and that she wanted Santi to be there. Frankie assumed that this was some cuck kink they had and he was more than ok with that. It stroked his ego to give a woman what another man couldn’t. The prospect of Santi joining them changed the dynamic a little, but Frankie was game. Santi was handsome and flirtatious, the two men had toed the line of flirtation themselves for years. It shouldn’t have been a surprise.

••••••••••••••••

You looked on, feeling warmer by the minute, a dampness growing between your thighs as you watched two such masculine men, so powerful and strong making out for your enjoyment.

Santi’s hand drifted down Frankie’s back, and his other hand came to cup his cheek posessively. Again, Frankie mirrored his action and cradled Pope’s cheek in his hand, deepening the kiss.

“Take his pants off, Santiago.” You directed from your perch. You wanted to see who got hard first.

Santi broke the kiss, and guided Frankie to stand while he unbuttoned his jeans, drew the zipper downward, and pushed the soft denim off his narrow hips, leaving him in snug gray boxers, ones that you had picked out.

Frankie stepped out of his jeans and looked to you for approval or direction or anything, but it wasn’t necessary. The look on your face urged him on. He looped his index fingers through his friend's belt loops and pulled him closer to strip him of his pants as well, leaving him in a pair of matching underwear, just how you wanted them.

Nearly bare, the energy in the room thrummed. It felt warmer, more humid, felt as if the walls had closed in.

You didn't need to tell them what to do next, the two men, older, graying, battle scarred, no strangers to violence, held each other close and kissed with a passion that you hadn’t expected, Frankie leaned down to close the difference in their height, Santi kept a guiding hand on Frankie’s cheek.

“Alright Santiago, Francisco. I want to see you now. Both of you. All of you. Is he hard, Santi? Why don’t we find out” Santi grinned up at Frankie, and chuckled as he brought his hand to grip at the taller man’s half hard cock before hooking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pushing them down to the middle of his thighs.

“Tsk. I think you can do better than that, sweetheart. I need him hard. Help him out. Get on your knees for him.” Frankie’s head snapped to you, his eyes wide, unable to believe this is what you wanted. He only had to look at the way your chest heaved as you watched the men act out your fantasies to know you were serious. Santi, on the other hand, needed no confirmation. You were the boss. He had already dropped to his knees, cock in his hand, ready to show you exactly what you wanted to see.

With you in the chair soaking your panties and directing your own personal porno and Santi on the floor, tugging at his throbbing length, all of Frankie’s inhibitions evaporated. With no hesitation left, he threaded his thick fingers into Santi’s curls and pulled him close until his cheek was against his hip and his lips just inches from his quickly hardening length. “Do as she says, Pope. Suck.”

No sooner than the words left Frankie’s mouth, a shadow seemed to cross his best friend’s face and he huffed through his teeth, greedily taking Frankie’s cock into his mouth. His eyes were dark and dangerous as he stared up, groans rumbling deep in his chest as he worked the length into his throat, all for your pleasure. “That’s it. Take my cock down your throat. Suck it like you mean it.” As Frankie spoke he began to thrust his hips shallowly. He loved the power of having a strong man on his knees. Santi was a year or so younger, shorter but thick with muscle where Frankie was tall and lean. Santi’s beard grew in thicker but grayed sooner, making him look older where Frankie had maintained a bit of boyishness into his forties. Neither had ever wanted for the company of women.

“Don’t let him come.” Your words were sharp and cut through Frankie’s panting and murmuring and the squelching of his cock against the back of Santi’s throat. The men immediately stilled, and Frankie’s cock was left wet with saliva and his hands tight fists at his sides. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathed deeply, and willed himself back from the edge.

“It’s your turn now, Frankie. Help Santiago. Get him close. Frankie’s heart pounded in his chest, suddenly unsure of his own abilities. Frankie knew exactly what to do for women, knew what to do for himself, knew how he liked to be touched, but he wasn’t sure how to touch his best friend to make him feel good and he really wasn’t sure what you wanted to see. He took a deep breath, and decided he would stick with what he knew.

Frankie pushed Santi backwards by his hips, smirking down at him before looking back to you. “He likes taking directions, doesn’t he? He likes being good.” Then turned back to Santi. “You’re going to be good aren’t you?” Not waiting for a response, he shoved him gently onto the couch, anchoring his hips with both hands and kissing down Santi’s woolly jaw, down his neck, across his scarred shoulder, then slowly back to suck dark marks across his throat. He could feel the vibration of the other man’s soft moans, it ignited something familiar in him, a need to take him apart, explore every piece, study and commit it all to memory, tuck it away for reference, become the expert on his needs. Not now, though. Now he just settled between Santi’s knees.

You crossed the room to sit on your knees next to your boyfriend, up close you could see the shine of saliva on his chest, hear his heavy breaths as Frankie took his twitching cock in hand and began to stroke him in long, firm movements. “You’re hard as a fuckin’ rock, Pope. You like this? Like letting your girl watch you suck my cock? Yeah. You like getting on your knees,too. Did good, Pope. Almost had me coming down your throat.” Santi whimpered at Frankie’s words, closing his eyes, furrowing his thick brows.

Licking his lips, Frankie moved slowly, lowering his head, licking a wide, slow stripe up the underside of Santi’s cock, mimicking the way he ate pussy, something he knew he excelled at.

Your eyes met Frankie’s as he continued licking and swirling his tongue over your boyfriend’s shaft. The sight sent a fresh wave of arousal to your already dripping core. You imagined him between your own legs, his expert tongue and wide hands working you to your release.

Santi’s whimpering and squirming brought you back to the moment, reminding you that this was for your pleasure, not theirs. You are in control, and they’ll do what you say. Breathlessly, you command Frankie to stop,and he sits back, panting and needy, but obedient. His hand splayed over your thigh, silently begging for you to give him his next command. You placed your hand over his, admiring the difference in size and texture, his much larger and rougher than your own, callused and rough with thick veins across the back, but his nails were blunt and clean. You squeezed his hand before turning your focus to Santi, who was watching how you looked at his friend. He recognized the lust in your eyes, recognized the same in himself. When he shifted closer to you, you reached for him, pulling him into a kiss.

You didn’t need to open your eyes to know Frankie was watching intently, canting his hips, searching for relief he wasn’t due. You simply held out your hand for him and he rose, planting his knees between yours and Santi’s so that he could straddle your legs at the same time before inviting himself into your kiss, licking at where your lips met, mouthing at you and his former squad mate, noses bumping.

Santi broke the kiss, pulling Frankie by his thick curls into a deep kiss of their own before guiding his face to the apex of your thighs.

“Show me what you can do, Frank. Santi’s been telling me you’ve got quite a reputation. I really want to see for myself what kind of skills you have. See if you really are “the pussy-eating king.”

How devious he looked, lips curling into a smirk at your challenge.

“Alright, cariño. I’ll show you, but don’t be disappointed when nobody ever does it good enough after this.”

He didn’t waste any more time. He pulled you down the couch so you were on the edge of the cushion, and lifted your knees. “Hold her knee, Santi.” The men worked as a team, it should have been no surprise. Santi’s familiar hand held your left knee up and out, giving Frankie unfettered access while he kissed you, licking into your mouth, grunting into you as you lazily stroked your husband’s cock.

Frankie rubbed over the soft skin of your thighs with his warm, rough hands. He squeezed and kneaded and worked his way down to your mound, covering it with one hand and gently sliding the heel of his hand to your clit, circling it, rolling it, making you groan into Santi’s mouth, your hand stilling on his cock.

Frankie’s left hand joined his right at your glistening pussy and he let his fingertips slip over your folds, smearing your slick from where it pooled up over your clit, rubbing with intention there before fluttering over your delicate inner folds. You gasped when he thumbed a wet stripe of your own slick over your pebbled nipple, and whined when Santi was quick to cover it with his mouth, tasting you there, cock twitching with need.

You were wetter than you could ever remember being. Almost embarrassingly so. Your pussy, Frankie’s fingers, down onto the couch you dripped, and when he pushed two thick fingers into you, the wet sounds were obscene. He twisted his wrist, licked and sucked your throbbing clit, groaning and humming against you as he worked you diligently toward your orgasm.

Santi’s eyes were locked to where Frankie devoured you, even as he kissed you and kneaded your tits, pinching and rolling your nipples, helping push you closer to the edge.

“Fuck. Doin so good do us, baby. Look at you. This what you wanted? Want him to make you come?”

You whimpered into Santi’s cheek, nodding, delirious with pleasure so many sensations overwhelmed you. “Close!” You managed finally. Frankie had taken his sweet time about your cunt, applying his tongue, his lips, his fingers with precision, easing you up to the apex of pleasure. With one last focused effort, he tongues your clit while he crooked his fingers against the spot inside you that he knew would finish you off.

You writhed, squeezing his head between your thighs while Santi kissed you messily, letting your climax wash over you until you were dazed and panting, too sensitive to move.

One of them handed you your drink and you sipped it as you came back to yourself, only then seeing the hungry way they looked at you. Santi ran his land through your hair and Frankie kissed your thigh and rubbed your knee.

“Frankie that was amazing. Santi, thank you.” You kissed Santi again, grateful that he was so willing and happy to let another man, his best friend eat you out to the best orgasm you’d ever gotten from oral, and possibly ever. But you knew that wasn’t where this would end. You placed your empty glass on the table and reached for Frankie, kissing him, unsure if that was crossing a boundary, but too deep into this dynamic to care. You pulled him onto the couch, sandwiching yourself between the men. Frankie leaned in to kiss you again, the force pushed you back into Santi’s warm chest and you felt his scratchy chin on your shoulder, voice soft, urging you onto Frankie’s lap.

“Don’t you want to show him how grateful you are? Why don’t you help him now, cariño?”

You turned to kiss Santi, but the moment was interrupted by Frankie’s hand landing a sharp smack on your ass. My turn.

You crawled onto his lap, whining when his cock brushed against your over-sensitive cunt. You settled happily with your arms around his neck, kissing him while he squeezed the plush round of your ass, letting him pull you up to bury his face between your tits, kissing and nipping at your soft skin, breathing deep to smell your sweat and perfume.

“Lift up. Want you to sit on this big cock.” You obeyed, raising enough for him to run the thick head of his cock through your slick folds and tease at your entrance, making you whine until Santi stopped you. “Uh uh. Not like that.” He pulled you to your feet and spun you around. “Like this.” He pushed your hips back and together he and Frankie guided you to sink down the thick length of Frankie’s cock. You squeezed your eyes shut and moved slowly, breathing deeply and adjusting to the full, throbbing, wanting ache of your pussy around him. When you felt ready to move, you opened them to find your husband between your wide open legs, staring darkly at the place where Frankie entered you. The delicate skin stretched so prettily over a big cock. He didn’t think he would ever get the image out of his mind. Neither the sight nor the sound of slapping skin, the harmony of your cries and Frankie’s grunts as he fucked up slowly into you. Not the smell of your arousal, covering all three of you now.

Frankie’s arms were around you, one across your stomach and one across your chest, giving him leverage to fuck your as he saw fit. Soft and crazy or hard and fast. He tried it all and you took it. You took his cock while Santi shifted on his knees, face mere inches from where you were speared on Frankie’s fat cock. He watched you rub your clit in small circles before he knocked your hand away. “Yeah. Look at that. Look at that pretty pussy. Look at how greedy. Think we could both fit?” Santi teased, before spitting onto your pussy. He watched it drip down past your clit before leaning in to lick it back up. He repeated the vulgar action, then sucked your swollen clit between his full lips.

You couldn’t help the pornographic moaning. Frankie cursed in Spanish under you as your clenched around him. When Santi relented, releasing your clit, they spoke strained, clipped sentences to each other in their native tongue. Frankie thrust deeper and Santi resumed his licking, fisting his own turgid member while thumbing at your puffy lips, licking up your slick, then tipping his head lower to press his tongue right over the place where Frankie entered you. He was wild, licking and mouthing as your cunt and Frankie’s cock, laving wet licks over his friend’s heavy balls until Frankie slammed into you one last time, filling you with his hot cum, fucking it deep. As Frankie covered you on the inside, Santi jerked himself to completion, shooting his load onto your cunt in thick white ribbons, lacing it over Frankie’s balls, the bottom of his cock. He admired his work for several moments, heart racing. He watched as Frankie’s cum began to leak out of you and dripped down fo mix with his own on Frankie’s cock.

When the three of you peeled yourselves apart, you relaxed a while on the desecrated sofa, Santi held you and you held Frankie. You ran your hands through his sweat damp curls, kissed his neck tenderly, told him how good he did. You gave Santi the same treatment, showering him with adoration and gratitude for agreeing to this and for helping you bring Frankie into the fold.

“Next time,” Santi suggested, “we should film it.”

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character smut #pedro pascal characters #bat writes #smut #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x santiago garcia #catfish morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia #pope Garcia #Frankie x Santi x you

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mountainsandmayhem · 28 days ago

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Frankie x Santi x Female Reader

Summary: Your boyfriends take care of you while you have your period

WC: 1.6k

AN: This is 100% a self indulgent fic that I wrote in about 20 minutes. It’s not BETA’d and I’ll probably end up just deleting it in a few days. But, I’ve had my period for 8 days now (tmi, but deal with it) and you can thank @for-a-longlongtime and @lotusbxtch for sending me an interview with these dummies and now all I want is for Frankie to be my boyfriend and Santi to be my boyfriend and I want them to be boyfriends. Dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics.

Tags: pure fluff, mentions of period cramps and taking painkillers, men kiss (again, deal with it)

“Santi?” You called, your voice echoing through what you’re sure is a dark and empty house. “Pope?” You try, hoping he’ll respond to his nickname. When you get no response you try his full name.

A light flicks on in the kitchen. “Babe?” Your boyfriend says, the concern in his voice mirrors yours.

Francisco comes into view. “I need Santi,” you mumble as he pulls you into a hug.

“His flight was delayed. He’s not going to get back until after midnight.” His lips press to your forehead. “You’re warm. Are you feeling ok?”

Of your two boyfriends, one is a chaotic golden retriever, the other is a calm German Shepard. You love them both, but when your period surprised you three days early you knew you needed Santiago tonight.

“I need Santi,” you whine, a new wave of cramps and nausea coursing through your body.

“Did you get your period?” His voice is sympathetic but as you look up at him he has a mix of fear, and something akin to excitement, in his eyes.

You nod, noting that it’s definitely excitement in his eyes. Which makes absolutely no sense since Frankie cannot stand to see you in pain or sick.

“He left me a note!” He exclaims. “I’m going to make you all better.”

“A note?” He pulls you towards the couch, getting you all cozy in the corner of the plush sectional. He leaves the living room for the kitchen. “Fish! What do you mean a note?”

He comes back in with a piece of yellow lined legal paper in his hands. He starts to read, using his best impression of Santi’s bossy serious tone. The two of you tease him about it relentlessly, which usually ends in the three of you fucking like rabbits until every hole between your happy trio is full and spent.

“Fish, our girl was exceptionally horny earlier than normal so she might get her period while I’m gone. I know you’ve been with her longer, but she’s going to come home calling for me the day my flight lands. Just in case I get delayed I’ve left you some instructions.”

Frankie rolls his eyes, “I hate when he’s right.”

“Same,” you giggle, feeling so damn in love that tears start to burn behind your eyes.

“First, help her change into something comfy. Give her some of your sweats and that waffle knit Henley that usually makes her feral. Let her take whatever sweater she wants from me.”

Your hand peeks out from the blanket and Frankie pulls you to your feet. After you’re changed, wrapped in clothing that belongs to your men, Fish takes the note out again.

“Get her situated back on the couch, rookie move getting her all settled in her work clothes originally, Fish.” His hands fall to his sides defeatedly, he rolls his eyes, “Does this fucker have a crystal ball or something?”

You laugh, clutching your side and holding back a wince. “Don’t make me laugh, Francisco.”

He rushes to your aid, “Lo siento mi amor.”

The two of you leave your bedroom and head back to the couch. He helps you arrange the pillows and then gets your favourite blanket, tucking you in. After sponging his lips softly to yours he heads back into the kitchen.

He reads silently, “Give her one of those little blue pain killers. She has to drink a full glass of water, rub her back in small circles to help her. She’s going to fight you on the water, Fish, but you’re a soldier, stay strong.”

“No,” you whine, seeing the large glass of water in his hands. “Water makes me nauseous, Frankie. Pope lets me have a Diet Coke.”

“No he doesn’t, carinõ. Sit up a bit. I got you.”

His strong hand rubs small circles on your lower back, exactly how Santi does when he forces you to drink a whole glass of water with your pain killers. Once you drain the glass, Frankie takes it from you with a whispered ‘good girl’.

“The next part of the note is two options, depending on how your feeling.”

“Oh?” You ask. You hadn’t realized just how close Pope had been paying attention. He’s always there, calm and bringing you exactly what you need, but you hadn’t realized the extent of what was going on behind his eyes.

“Get her the heating pad and then she’ll either want to watch Dirty Dancing while eating gummy worms or The Departed while eating salt and vinegar chips. If she drank all the water she can have the Diet Coke she wanted originally.”

You snatch the note out of his hands. “There’s no way I’m that predict-“ your words falter as you read exactly what your boyfriend was saying aloud. You smile as you read the next sentence, “Seriously, Fish, if you didn’t make her drink all that water I’m going to punish you once she’s asleep.”

You look up at him mischievously. “I’m gonna tell him you didn’t make me drink any water.”

His mouth opens then shuts, contemplating whether or not to go along with it. “No, I want him to be proud of me, and you.”

“I’m a good girl,” you joke, “Our boyfriend is always proud of me.”

“What’s it gonna be, baby? Dirty Dancing or The Departed?”

You clench your teeth as a sharp cramp pierces at your side. “Dirty Dancing.”

Panic crosses his face as he rubs your knees that are curled tight to your chest through the blanket. “Ok, I’ll be right back.”

Frankie checks the note one more time. “Her snacks are on the top shelf of the pantry, tucked behind the cereal that you say tastes like old carpet. I’m going to have to find a new hiding place now. Let her curl up to you, she’s going to fall asleep about 20 minutes into the movie but don’t turn it off, she’ll know if you turn it off.”

He shakes his head and keeps reading. “Take care of her, please. I know you can’t handle seeing her in pain and I’m hoping you won’t have to. I love you, Frankie. Tell her I love her, too.”

He strolls back out to the couch with all the supplies. “Santi says he loves you.”

“You talked to him?”

“No, it was in the note.”

A sharp pain shoots through your back waking you up. You don’t know how you got to bed. You roll towards where Santi sleeps. He’s sitting, reading a book. He’s shirtless and for a second you think you’re dreaming with how good he looks.

His forefinger comes to his lips, signaling for you to stay quiet and then mouths ‘Hi’ at you with a soft smile.

“Hi,” you whisper, your hand coming to the small of your back.

“Bath?” He whispers, leaning forward to try to massage the cramps away.

With a nod of your head he pads to the bathroom. You see him in just loose fitting pajama pants, something about Santi shirtless and barefoot causes your heart to thunder behind your ribs. It’s homey and so domestic, and for a long time you thought he wouldn’t stay. Tonight, he’s once again proved to you and Frankie that he’s doing more than staying.

You sink into the warm water, Santi climbing in behind you. He knows you’re going to get all sleepy and the last thing he needs is for you to drown.

“I missed you. Frankie was so sweet tonight.”

“Ya? Did he follow my instructions?”

“He did. Even the water. I can’t believe I’m that predictable though.”

He chuckles behind you, his soft plush lips meeting your temple. “You’re not. I’m observant and I love you and Frankie. I’m sorry I was delayed tonight.”

“Mmm, it’s ok. It’s not your fault. I’m just glad you’re home.” The water is the perfect temperature and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he used the unscented bubble bath instead of the rose scented one that gave you a migraine last month. Your muscles start to relax, the cramps easing. “Santi?”

“Yes, querida?”

“Thank you for staying with us. A few months ago I wasn’t so sure. I hope you know how much I love you and how much I didn’t know I needed until you came along.”

He runs a soft washcloth up and down your body under the bubbles, addicted to the way you melt into him every time he does it. “I know. I love you, too.”

Frankie stirs awake, something feels wrong as he eyes blink over. He rolls to find the bed empty. He sits up in panic, only the light under the bathroom door calming him.

He usually sleeps naked, so after slipping his boxers on he creeps to the en suite and knocks softly before testing the handle. The door pops open and he shakes his head at you and Santiago in the tub together. There’s no bubbles left and you’re both sleeping soundly. As he dips his hand in the water to pull the plug the water is just slightly above room temperature.

The sound startles Santi, his arms wrap around you protectively as he looks at Fish.

“So worried about her drowning and you’re sound asleep,” he says softly.

“I got her,” he says back.

“I know. I was teasing you.”

“C’mere,” Santi rasps. Frankie, like you, was sound asleep when Santi crept into bed a few hours ago. Fish crouches beside the tub, Santi’s hand comes out of the water to wrap around his boyfriends neck.

“You’re gonna get me all wet, Pope!”

“You’re always wet around me, little puta.” he whispers against his lips and then kisses him passionately.

They’ve been so wrapped up in one another that they haven’t noticed that you’ve woken up. You snort quietly, “He’s got you there, Fish.”

#triple frontier #Frankie x Santi x reader #comfort fic #francisco catfish morales #santiago pope garcia #Pedro pascal #Oscar Isaac

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pimosworld · 3 months ago

Text

Just say the word

Pairing-Tf boys x reader (one shot)

CW-18+, NSFW, MDNI, established polyamorous relationship, light teasing, edging, voyeurism, orgasm denial, exhibitionism, possessive tf boys, mentions of smut, fingering, soft dom Will, soft dom Santi, soft dom Frankie. Unsuspecting victim ( poor Jack) he’s innocent in this I swear.

Summary- The boys decide to have a little fun at your expense.

WC- 1.7k

A/N- Set in the (story of us) universe but can be read as a stand alone. I feel like I’ve neglected this bunch since I finished the story and I miss them and their delusional little bubble. Please enjoy this ficlet set some time after the story of them ends and their relationship begins.

[Series Masterlist]

Not beta read

It feels weird being back in your normal spots. Nestled away in the corner booth in the dimly lit bar. All five of you crammed in like nothing has changed. Except it has.

This thing forming between the five of you for the last several months. No rules, no pressure, just the four of them not being able to let you out of their sight for more than five minutes. It’s intoxicating and overwhelming and you love it.

You are situated between Frankie and Santi, Will on the other side of Frankie sharing glances. Knowing tells as you squirm in your seat. Santi’s hand squeezes the plush skin of your thigh while Frankie rubs soothing circles against your knee. It all looks so normal to anyone walking by. They’ve been teasing you all night, switching places as they grab more drinks at the bar or head to the bathroom.

Will grins as he watches you fidget, not so subtly rubbing your legs together at the thought of his hands so close to where you needed them most. Not less than ten minutes ago he had you pleading into his ear like you were telling him a secret. His fingers tracing up and down the seam of your panties, wetness pooling against the fabric as you chased his touch.

Goosebumps raise on your arms as Santi’s fingers slip just past the string, curling in so precisely, you half to clear your throat to stifle the moan that crawls up the back of your throat.

“Ya ok sweetheart?” Will says and the look you flash is equal parts beautiful and terrifying all at once.

Santi kisses your shoulder, such a sweet endearing gesture to juxtapose the absolute filth that is happening below the table. “She’s fine.” A look to Frankie, something unspoken passing between them as the corners of Frankie's eyes crinkle with a smile.

You bite the inside of your cheek as his thumb presses against your clit. Dropping your head to your hands to wipe the sweat from your brow.

“Just say the word baby and we’ll stop.” Frankie’s voice in your ear luring you into the lion's den. You weren’t going to lament that easily.

Your hand drifts below the table, palming at the growing bulge in his pants, you yelp when he smacks your thigh. His palm soothes the spot as you let out a shaky breath.

“Hands where I can see them sweetheart.” Will commands.

“Fuck you.”

“Thirsty?” Ben’s voice cuts through the pounding in your ears. His one hand with a refill pitcher of beer, the other gesturing behind him as he mouths ‘be nice.’

Following close behind with an empty glass is a familiar face. Not one you don’t want to see on any given day, but right now you’re struggling to breathe normally.

“Fucking Jack.” Frankie bites out and you regard him with a quirked brow.

“I thought you liked him.” Your head turned in a whisper and he just lets out a deep sigh.

It’s not that he doesn’t like him so much as he knows how much the guy likes you. Judging by the grin etched across his face as he approaches the table.

Santiago withdraws his hand and you whine at the loss, disguising it with a cough as Ben shoots you a worried look.

Everyone reaching for the cold glasses as Jack slides into the booth next to Ben. You watch Santi from the corner of your eye, slowly taking his fingers in his mouth. The others preoccupied with greetings as he hums at the taste.

Your mouth agape at the filthy show of dominance. He takes a sip of his beer, his dark eyes on you as he swallows and you watch the way his throat bobs.

“You’ll catch flies that way cariño.”

You tamp your mouth shut as heat licks up your spine.

Frankie slides you a beer as a peace offering and you let out a breath hoping the torture is over with your new guest at the table.

Jack says your name and you probably look a little wide eyed when you say hello. Sounding a little too happy to see him. Completely unaware that whatever tension building right now is not directed at him.

“Haven’t seen you guys here in awhile.” He says as he pours himself a beer.

“We’ve been…busy.” The boys snicker as Ben hides his smile behind his glass, unbeknownst to Jack.

“What have y’all been up to? Any hot dates recently?”

The boys stay quiet, shooting each other looks as Frankie’s hand starts inching it’s way up your thigh.

He nudges Ben with his elbow. “Oh come on, spill. I know you’ve at least got some.”

Ben laughs it off, eyes flicking to you and memories of your date the previous night. He looks shy almost as he rubs the back of his neck. “Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t.”

You’re starting to gauge their annoyance at his presence.

Frankie doesn’t falter as he pinches the fabric between his fingers and you clamp your thighs shut. Your sandals clicking loudly on the floor.

Santiago laughs, motherfucker…with a stupid grin on his face and Will has to bite down on his lip to keep his at bay.

“In fact.” Jack starts up again. Pointing at Santiago. This guy doesn’t quit apparently. “Last time I saw you here you had some hot blonde in your lap.”

He drops his head to the table and for his sake he looks apologetic. “I don’t recall.” The redness creeping up his neck and the simmering tension below the surface.

Frankie relents when he notices your obvious discomfort. They’ve been edging you all night and now this Jack off had to come and ruin all the fun.

“What about you honey? You seeing anyone?”

Bingo

His attention on you, a wide smile on his face. He draws his fingers up and down the condensation on his glass and you have the sudden wild thought to pour it on you. Anything to escape this fresh hell.

He wasn’t an unattractive man. Tall, broad shoulders and a strong jaw. Gorgeous head of dark brown hair that was always kept neat and combed back. He’s a firefighter so he’s got a great build and he can on occasion make you laugh.

Which is perhaps why the rest of the table looks as though they’re three seconds from choking him.

Frankie’s hand flexes a little on your thigh, Ben cracks his knuckles and stares straight ahead at Will whose jaw is so clenched you think he might break a few teeth.

And Santiago…looks as stoic as you’ve ever seen him. Too calm.

“Baby.” Frankie’s voice and the startling use of the pet name brings you back to the present. “He asked you a question.” His head tilted in waiting.

You fumble for words you’ve never actually spoken out loud. Not knowing what the right or wrong thing to say is. “I’m…keeping my options open.”

That seems to be the right answer for now. Santiago gives you a reassuring squeeze as he resumes drinking his beer. You can feel Frankie relax next to you and Ben’s shoulders aren’t reaching his ears.

Will still watches Jack, who obviously can’t take a hint.

His tongue dragging along his teeth as he eyes you from across the booth. For the sake of his safety you don’t want to let him finish whatever thoughts he has running through his head at your admission.

You slap your hands down on the table. “I’ve had too much to drink.” Signaling to Frankie and Will to slide out so you can relieve yourself, or at the very least get some space between you and Jack.

Someone has the nerve to pinch your ass before you exit the booth and curse low under your breath as you retreat to the restrooms. You were absolutely going to kill them when you got home later.

—

The blatant flirting, the casual use of your sacred nickname, the way he’s not so subtly checking out your ass as you walk away.

The guys aren’t certain but Jack acts as though he’s not in clear immediate danger. But he’s a firefighter so the regard for his life is skewed toward running at a problem and not away from it.

As you round the corner disappearing from view he focuses his attention back on the table. Whistling low under his breath as he shakes his head still oblivious to the rage closing in on him.

“I still don’t know how one of you hasn’t snagged that yet.” Jack says offhandedly as he downs the rest of his beer.

Ben takes it from him and Santiago flinches, unsure of what the younger man will do as he calmly slides it out of reach.

It’s one of those intense moments. In the wild we freeze it in photographs and videos. In the images there’s a predator, perhaps a cheetah staring unblinkingly at a gazelle, who stares back with a look of surprise and terror.

“How do you know we haven’t?” Ben’s body turns to face him as he clears his throat.

He stutters a little, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Look if I’m moving in on anyone’s territory you just say the word-“

“You are.” Will says without specifying whose.

Will stands as you make your way back to the table and Jack stands with him, waving goodbye. Frankie stays seated, not yet able to hide the evidence of his arousal. The whole display not doing anything to compress his excitement.

The guys all shift as you slide in, Will taking his seat next to you as Frankie throws his arm over your shoulder and he can see the wheeler turning in the poor man’s head. You never stood a chance.

“Leaving so soon?” Your sweet voice doing nothing to disguise your obvious guess at what just transpired.

“Ugh…ya I’ve got an early day tomorrow.” He offers a tight lipped smile before walking away with his tail tucked.

Frankie’s laugh jostles you and you move to slap his arm as he grabs your wrist. “Play nice hermosa.”

You huff as you pry it out of his grip. “What did you guys say?”

You’re met with mostly silence and their grins at each other and just like that you’re right back where you started the night. Them, teasing you…and you loving it.

Will’s hand slowly creeps up your thigh,bunching the fabric of your skirt in his hand as he leans in close. “Now where were we sweetheart?”

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

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theanothersherlockian · 1 year ago

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ok maybe i’m seeing too much into the picture and maybe someone has already pointed it out BUT

i can’t help but notice that everyone has a drink in front of them except Frankie.

Will has the blue beers (2) , Benny the red one in front of him and the other red one (2), Santi has the blue one (3) and Tom drinks the red beers in front of him.

What about Frankie you might ask, well on the scene where they all leave Frankie is driving. Frankie was the designated driver of the night, he couldn’t have a drink. His space on the table is empty because he’s responsible to get them safe.

idk love the detail jeje.

#frankie my beloved #my triple frontier boys #frankie morales #pedro pascal #francisco morales #triple frontier #santiago garcia #will miller #benny miller #benjamin miller #oscar isaac #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier fanfic

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absurdthirst · 10 months ago

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Breaking & Entering {Frankie Morales x F!Reader x Santiago Garcia}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.3k

Warning: Home invasion, restraints, guns, threats, non consensual sexual activities, vaginal sex, double penetration, anal stimulation, fingering, cum play, derogatory language, role play, aftercare.

Comments: Two men break into your house with more than robbing you on their minds.

🚨🚨DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT - this story contains dark theme of role-play and non-consensual sex🚨🚨

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You’ve never been a deep sleeper, always worried and there’s so much to worry about. With your friends overseas fighting for their country and their lives, you wonder if you’ll ever see them again. The usual things worry you too. Money, your job, settling down with a guy, having kids. Would you be a good wife? A good mom? There’s so much to worry about. So when you hear the bump, you’re stirred from your light sleep. The creaking of the wooden floor makes you frown and you open your eyes when you hear what sounds like movement downstairs.

You’re not sure if it’s your imagination and you sit up, trying to figure out if it’s the darkness making you hear things or if someone is in your house. You get your answer a few moments later when the door to your bedroom opens and two masked men enter, guns in hand. “Don’t make a fucking noise.” One of them demands, aiming his weapon at you while the other starts to rifle through your drawers.

You can’t stop the whimper that escapes your lips until the one closest to you grabs you, shoving his gloved fingers over your mouth, “I told you to shut the fuck up.” He growls and you shake, starting to panic.

“Nothing here.” The other one says before he holds up a pair of crotchless panties, “unless you wanna take these home?” He asks his partner who chuckles, looking down at you.

“Are you a dirty girl?” He asks, the gun still pushed against your temple.

Your mind suddenly goes blank, unable to form a coherent thought other than the terror of having two men in your house in the middle of the night. Your mouth opens and nothing but a squeak comes out, making the taller one of the men chuckle behind his mask. “Ohhhh she’s so scared she can’t even speak.” He coos mockingly. His gun nudges deeper into your temple and he steps forward, closer to you. “Why don’t we make her scream?”

“How are you thinking of doing that, hermano?” The other one asks, shutting your drawer but he’s still holding the panties. “Or we could keep her quiet? Tie her up? No one would ever know.” He suggests and the other hums in consideration.

“She’s a pretty one. We haven’t seen a pretty one for a while. Maybe we could see how good she is at sucking a cock? Would you suck a cock to save your life, pretty girl?” He coos, sliding the gun down your head until he’s caressing your jaw with the muzzle.

You shudder and a small whimper escapes. You don’t know what you would do, but you don’t want to die. The gun in his hand feels cold and deadly against your skin and you don’t want that to be the last thing you feel. He hums and lifts it up over your chin and presses the barrel up to your lips. Shaking, you let him press it harder, opening your lips and your tongue touches the barrel.

"Oh she's eager to save her life." He chuckles, pushing the gun deeper into your mouth. "You don't wanna die, do you, hermosa?" He coos and you make a noise around the gun, shaking with the possibility of what they could do to you. "Nooo. She doesn't" The other one coos and your eyes are wide as you look at them, wondering what they want. Are they here to rob you? Or worse? "No need to be frightened, little one. We are just gonna have some fun." He promises, caressing your cheek.

Fun. A shiver races up your spine at the word and you must struggle slightly, because the arm around your body tightens to the point of near pain. “Don’t fucking move.” He hisses angrily, growling it into your ear and pulls the gun out of your mouth. “Kiss my hermano.” He orders, moving you forward towards the other man. “Say you’re sorry for insulting him.”

The ski masks conceal their identities but their mouths are free due to the cut out hole so you are shoved towards the man and you know you have to kiss him, otherwise you could die. He leans in to meet you halfway, his lips forcing yours to move, his hands finding your waist to pull you up against him while his partner grabs your hands, keeping your wrists together until you feel something pinch the skin as he tightens the zip ties. "Shhh. Don't worry, baby. You are safe...as long as you do everything we tell you." He promises and you gasp, allowing the tongue of the one you're kissing to push into your mouth.

His tongue slides into your mouth and all you can think of is that it is some kind of dream. You are dreaming. Still asleep in your bed, safe and sound. You'll wake up and shake your head, wondering what had caused you to think of this. His kiss is skilled and despite the terror, you feel yourself starting to respond to him. Your body heating up and your tongue flickering out shyly to mix with his.

The man watching you smirks, chuckling at the way you respond to the kiss. “That’s it, pretty girl. Just relax. You do what we say and you get out of this alive, okay? You’ll enjoy it too.” He promises, sliding his hand down to squeeze your tit through your tank top.

You whimper, trying to shift away but you can't, not when the other man shifts closer. Boxing you in between the two men and surrounding you. You can feel the strength in their bodies and you know that resisting will only result in you S’s hurt.

His hand squeezes your breast and pinches your nipple, making you whimper into the other man’s mouth. His tongue sliding against yours and they can feel how tense you are, slowly trying to relax you. They didn’t find what they wanted in your house but they did find you. “Wanna see how wet you are baby.” He murmurs, sliding his hand down into your sleep shorts to cup your cunt.

It’s shameful, the small sound that pours into the man’s mouth when a thick finger slides through your folds. Making you freeze for want of grinding into his touch and begging for more. You aren’t supposed to encourage them. You try to pull away from the kiss, but he’s holding the back of your neck, not letting you go.

Your moan vibrates between them and urges them to continue. The shorter one chuckles and pulls at your tank top, tugging it down until your breast is exposed and he ducks down to take your nipple into his mouth. The other one’s fingers push inside of you, curling before sliding back out to rub your clit.

Your cunt quivers, making you gasp so the two men touch you so brazenly. Making you moan at yourself mockingly, closing your eyes in shame at how good it feels.

“She’s a dirty one, hermano.” The shorter one chuckles against your breast while the other kisses down your throat, his fingers pushing back inside of you. They can feel you relax under their touch and their cocks are hardening at the thought of more. “You’re gonna suck my cock, aren’t you baby? Be a good little whore for us so we spare your life.” He hums, slapping your tit when he pulls back then he reaches into his pocket for his knife. Your eyes widen and you start to move but the other holds you tight to keep you still. “Don’t move.” The shorter one holding the knife warns and he grabs your tank top, cutting it through the middle to expose your tits to their hungry eyes.

Both men groan at the sight and the taller one behind you reaches up and cups your breasts. “We should fuck these.” He huffs, pinching both of your nipples. “Maybe we take our time. Keep her for a few days. It’s been a long time since we’ve indulged.”

You whimper, in both fear and lust which terrifies you even more. You shouldn't be turned on by this. Hands are everywhere, pinching and pulling, pumping and curling inside of you until you can't keep track of who is who. "I think she wants us to fuck her. You are a cock hungry little whore, ain't you?" The shorter one asks and you can't stop the strangled whine that escapes your throat. Both men chuckle and you pant as you are pushed closer to your orgasm. "That's it. She's gonna cum." The taller one coos, his fingers pushing deep and the other presses his finger to your clit, rubbing harsh circles.

Your eyes roll back and your head falls against his shoulder, crying out when you feel your body start to pulse. You shouldn’t cum, but you can’t help yourself. Pushed to the brink by these men and their skilled fingers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whine when he doesn’t stop stimulating you.

They don't stop, pushing you past the first orgasm and onto another, wanting you to be overstimulated and writhing, trapped between them. "That's it, such a good girl. Taking what we give you. Gonna make you feel good." The taller one promises, biting down on your ear lobe while the other slides his hand down to smack your ass, his fingers sliding between your cheeks to press against your puckered hole, "you want us both inside of you?" He murmurs into your ear. "Oh she does." The taller one chuckles when you clench around his fingers.

"I don't want your ass. I wanna be inside that tight little cunt." The short one says and his hand finds his friend's at your pussy. "Gonna stretch you out." He promises, pushing his finger in alongside two of his companion's.

They are filthy and yet you aren’t struggling. Gasping when you feel the thickness of his fingers inside you alongside the taller ones fingers. They are going to fuck you. You should be screaming and begging them to stop but another wave of arousal pours out of you and makes it even wetter as he scissors his fingers to work you open. “Why me?” You manage after a moment, wondering if they had been watching you or if they would have done this to any woman they found.

They both chuckle, deep and dark. "We have been watching you. We wanted to wait, make sure you were the one we wanted. You are everything we have been looking for, baby." The shorter one murmurs, kissing your neck as he pushes another finger inside of you to stretch you out even more. "You are so pretty. We wanted to see you scream out for us. You have something we want. Your cunt and...the money." The tall one reveals.

“Money, what money?” You gasp, eyes closing tight and you try to restrain another moan.

“You know what money.” The shorter one huffs, chuckling quietly and curling his fingers up again just to pull another sound out of you.

“You know what fucking money.” The taller one grabs the gun from his side to press it against your temple again, “all that money your daddy left you. It’s hidden all over the house. At least that’s what we heard.” He says, his fingers still moving inside of you.

You whine, shaking your head even as your body bucks against his touch. “That- it’s a rumor.” You promise them. “There’s no money.”

"Don't fucking lie to us." The shorter one growls. grabbing your hair but the taller one reminds him, "after, hermano. After." The gun is lowered and your hair released before the men continue fingering you.

There’s no way that you are going to get out of this unscathed. You feel the hardness of the taller man’s cock behind you, grinding into your ass and throbbing insistently. “Don’t hurt me. I’ll do whatever you want.” You pant out breathlessly. “Just don’t hurt me.”

The men withdraw their fingers, unable to wait any longer. "You wanna fuck her first then me?" The shorter one asks and the tall one nods, reaching down to unbuckle his pants, working on pulling his hard cock out. "What - what are you gonna do?" You ask, knowing exactly what they are doing but you want to hear it. "We are gonna fuck you baby. Both of us. At the same time." The short one answers, grabbing his knife so he can cut those flimsy sleep shorts off of you. Your arms are grabbed, still tied together, and you are pushed to straddle the tall one. "That's it, don't struggle. Good girl." He coos, reaching down to position his cock at your entrance. He holds your zip tied wrists to keep you still as he starts to push deeper inside of you.

Your cry is both fear and pleasure. Feeling him fill you up, you know another cock inside you is going to be a stretch and they are going to push you beyond anything that you have ever experienced before. You can’t balance yourself and would collapse forward if it weren’t for the man you are impaled on holding your shoulders as he grinds up into you.

Watching you take the other man’s cock, the shorter man reaches over to look into your drawer. “I knew she was a dirty little whore.” He chuckles as he pulls out the bottle of lube and he opens it, pouring some onto his hand while he works his pants open with the other. “It’s gonna feel good baby…we promise.”

You can’t even manage a comment as he starts to rub the lube around your already stretched out hole. Whining when you feel him shuffle closer and then the blunt head of his cock swipes through the lube. “Oh fuck.”

The man beneath you stills so his companion can start to push into you, slow and steady to not hurt you despite them stretching your tight cunt to the limit, their cocks pressing against each other as they push deeper inside of you.

The men groan, both of them holding onto you like an anchor. Fingers digging into your hips and ass. “Fuck you’re tight.” The taller one groans, leaning in and biting down on your shoulder.

You can’t speak, overwhelmed at the stretch and slight tinge of pain as the two men fill your cunt with their cocks. “Move.” You manage to gasp and the taller man chuckles, starting to move inside of you. It doesn’t take them long to establish a rhythm, a cock constantly inside of you as they rock their hips.

They both rock into you, a steady pace that steals your breath with the stretch of both of their cock drilling up into your cunt. “Fuck, this is perfect.” The shorter one groans, kissing along your neck and flexing his hips just a little sharper. “She likes this. Our little whore. We need to keep her just like this.”

You whine at their filthy words and their hands are everywhere while yours are still tied together. “We could do anything to her right now and she’d love it. Maybe I can fuck her ass next. You want me to open you up for me?” The one behind you coos, his hand sliding down to smack your ass until he’s leaning back so he can press his finger against your puckered hole.

You are so eager to please them it’s almost pathetic. Your own hips trying to move and get even more friction than they are providing. “Look at her. So fucking eager to please us she would let do any goddamn thing we wanted. We could fuck every hole she has and thank us for it, wouldn’t you, baby?”

“She would. She’s desperate for us.” The other one coos, reaching between your bodies to rub your clit. The strangled groan you let out makes them chuckle and they continue their punishing pace. “Gonna cum for us? Soak us in that tight little pussy?” The shorter one groans when you arch your back, changing the angle. “That’s it. Good girl. Fuck - shit. Yes that’s it baby, cum.”

They keep rocking into you, pushing you higher and the shorter one palms your tits. Massaging them and then pinching them sharply enough to make you gasp.

You’re pressed between them, their cocks moving a little faster inside of you and you are gasping for breath as their cocks push deep inside of you. “Fuck. She’s so tight.” The one beneath you groans and rubs your clit a little faster.

It’s so intense, all you can do is just let them use you. Your thighs tremble and your fingers hook around a belt buckle and you hang on as they fuck you like there is no tomorrow. “I-I’m- I’m gonna cum!” You squeal, starting to clamp down around their lengths.

“Fuck yes. Yes. That’s it. Shit.” One hisses while the other groans his appreciation, biting down on your shoulder as you shake, your cry echoing off of the walls of your bedroom. “That’s such a good girl, good little slut. Gonna - gonna fill you up with cum, let you drip.”

Your eyes roll and your cunt clenches at the filthy words. Your body responds like a bitch in heat and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. “Please.” You beg, feeling their thrusts get even harder. Enjoying the pinch of pain as they slam into you now that your cunt is used to being stretched full.

The taller one cums first, pushing up inside of you with a hiss and his hands grip your hips as his cock twitches. Rope after rope of his seed coating your walls and the cock of his partner who groans and keeps his frantic pace, seeking his own orgasm. It only takes a few thrusts before he’s spilling inside of you too, moaning out loud against the back of your neck.

Both of them pant, the taller one chuckling slightly as he starts to soften inside you. The rough fabric of his pants scratches the inside of your thighs and the burn from it is noticeable now that the high is gone. “Good little slut.” He coos softly, smirking beneath the mask. “So good we might let you live.”

The shorter one pulls out of you first and shuffles back to grab his flashlight, turning it on after the taller one pulls out of you so he can watch the combined cum drip from your abused cunt. "Mierda." He murmurs, watching it with fascination and you slump over, barely able to stay upright as the men shift away from you.

The taller one shifts you onto your stomach, pulling your knees up under you so that your ass and cunt is on display for them. Admiring how swollen and cum filled your cunt is. “Too bad we don’t have time to fuck her ass.” He groans, reaching out and scooping up some of their combined cum to rub around your puckered hole. Enjoying the way the muscle spasms at the sensation and you whimper. “Now, be a good girl and tell us what we want to know.”

“I don’t know what you want to know.” You pant when his finger presses against the muscle, slipping in just slightly. “You know. We know you know. Don’t make us hurt you, sweetheart. You know where the money is.” The taller one coos and the other one smacks your ass with his palm.

You cry out, clenching around the pushed in finger and scrub your head against the sheets. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You insist. “There’s no money. None.”

The taller one tuts, “don’t lie. It’s not very sexy, hermosa.” He clicks his tongue and pushes his finger inside of you while the shorter one pushes two thick digits into your abused cunt, cum pushing out around his digits.

“Oh fuck.” Your body jerks in pleasure and the slightest pinch of pain but you enjoy it. You moan into the sheets, feeling stretched out in a different kind of way. “I don’t.” You pant, denying it even though you know that they won’t believe you.

The tall one tuts, leaning down to spit on his finger when it pulls out of your ass and he adds another finger to stretch you out. “You do know. We know you do.” The other one coos, acting like he’s coaxing you when his fingers are pushing deeper and curling inside of you.

It’s too much and yet you are pushing your hips back for more. “I- I need-“ you choke out before a wordless sob of need rips out of your throat. Their other hands seem to have multiplied, touching you everywhere and it feels like you can’t even breathe.

Your choked sob makes them chuckle and they rub your clit and squeeze your tit while their hands continue their movements. “That’s it. That’s it baby girl. Cum for us. Cum. You can do it.” The short one coos and leans down to bite your shoulder.

All you can do is obey them as they coax your body towards their goal. Every finger curl of their hands making your body shake and tremble. "I- Fuck! Frankie! Santi!" You scream when stars burst behind your eyes and your cunt clenches down and soaks them.

They work you through it but Frankie groans, “baby, you ruined it.” He whines slightly and Santi chuckles, kissing your shoulder.

“She didn’t ruin it. We did. Made her cum too hard ,she forgot to role play.” He smirks against your skin and the men soon withdraw their digits from inside of you. “Felt too good, huh, hermosa?” Frankie snorts, leaning in to kiss your neck.

“I’m sorry.” You gasp out, trying to catch your breath as they stroke your ass and sides, both of them on either side of you. “I- it was too good.” You admit, giggling slightly. “But I want to do it again.”

“Yeah? You wanna maybe do something a little more…aggressive next time?” Santi asks, knowing you wanted to tonight. It was your idea. They are happy to indulge you, wanting you to be satisfied in their duty as your lovers.

“We would do anything you wanted us too, baby.” Frankie promises, kissing your shoulder gently. “Tonight we just needed to see how you would react. You didn’t even use your safe word, I knew you wouldn’t.”

“So damn good for us.” Santo says as he removes his mask and Frankie follows suit, grabbing the flashlight to turn it off before he reaches over to turn on the lamp, letting you see them both for the first time. Santi grabs his knife to cut the zip ties, massaging your wrists as he helps you turn over. “I’ll get you cleaned up.” Frankie murmurs, kissing your forehead before he shuffles off of the bed.

Santiago presses closer, kissing your cheeks and petting your hair. “You were so good for us baby. Do you feel good? Anything you didn’t like? Wanted more of?”

Frankie comes back and carefully cleans you up, tossing the rag aside after he tucks himself away in his pants and he lays down beside you, pressing you between him and Santi. You turn to kiss Santi, “it was so good. Everything I wanted. I wanted the surprise and you gave that to me. I loved it, baby.” You promise and peck his lips while Frankie caresses your side.

“You want more?” He asks, wanting to know himself.

“I do.” You snuggle down between the two Delta force soldiers and while your relationship is not conventional, it works for you. They are gone a lot and often stressed from their work, so the easy, shared relationship with you works. “Maybe something a little more primitive?” You ask. “I know you two don’t look at camping like a vacation but something out in the woods?”

Frankie caresses your spine, “yeah? You want us to chase you down?” He coos, his blunt nails scraping your skin. “You want us to chase you down and fuck you in the woods? Use you for our pleasure?”

You grin as you turn your head and look at Frankie. “Yes I do.” You promise him. “Especially if you fuck me like you did today.”

“We can arrange that. Leave it with us. Now, get some rest. You need to sleep after that. Me and Frank are gonna clean up and then we are gonna fall asleep with you.” Santi murmurs, kissing your shoulder as Frankie works the covers from beneath you so he can cover you up.

They are so good to you. Despite saying they were shit with relationships and couldn’t give a girl what she needed since they were always gone, you found both of them to be incredibly thoughtful and sweet. You wouldn’t have much communication while they are deployed but they would let you know when they could and that’s good enough for you.

Frankie and Santi clean up, stripping down to their underwear and sliding into bed beside you after getting you a bottle of water. “Come on baby, let’s get some sleep. Frankie said he’d take us to brunch tomorrow.” Santi promises with a chuckle.

“I’m not dealing with you on endless mimosas, Pope.” Frankie snorts, curling around you.

“You know you love it when I get horny from Prosecco.” Santi smirks against your forehead and you chuckle, “brunch sounds good.” You murmur, pressed between the two men, satisfied and safe. You trust them with your life and you know they will always protect you, satisfy you, and make you happy. Even if you ask them to fake breaking into your house.

#pedro pascal #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x f!reader #catfish x reader x pope #catfish x f!reader x pope #catfish x you x pope #santiago garcia x reader

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for-a-longlongtime · 1 year ago

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These tags in @squishyace ‘s reblog made me laugh 😂 I will ALWAYS at any time crop or censor fuckface from group shots, it’s the only ethical thing to do.

Triple Frontier photo shoots

In everyday's today's hyperfocus spiral, I've fallen into the Triple Frontier promo shots. Surprisingly found a whole bunch of Frankie shots I'd never seen before - how??

So I figured I'd post them here. Does anyone have any more group shots that I've missed? I'm also looking for the solo images of Oscar but haven't had much luck yet.

(Yes, Douchebag is cropped out of all of them and I did crop a few others to be Frankie x Santi because.. well, if you follow me then you know why, babe.)

And then there's this whole bunch of solo shots of which I'd only seen a few before...

Brace yourself.

Anyway... what was I saying? Oh, right. Let me know if you have any more photos of this shoot.

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romana-after-dark · 11 months ago

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Room's on Fire: Pilot

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist

Spotify playlist

Summery: The Delta is a commune in the middle of nowhere established by Santiago's mother. Since Divine Mother's passing in a rebellion a decade ago, Santiago, known as The Pope, and his half-God brethren Francisco, Benjamin and William have ran the commune. Now it is time for them to take a collective bride to breed, to bring the savior into the world.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence.

This is not meant to be a statement about religion, Christianity, or Catholicism, this is simply my take on a cult. I am a religious person. I understand that some of this may be very offensive to religious people so if you don't like thing like AHS Asylum or Black Mass, maybe consider not reading.

"Come on home, girl, he said with a smile You don't have to love me yet, let's get high awhile But try to understand, try to understand Try, try, try to understand That I'm a magic man." ~Magic Man, Heart.

"God dammit Benjamin, what the hell is wrong with you!”

Will smacked Ben upside the head as Frankie chided him.

Ben tried to defend himself. “Hey! You guys act like you don’t sleep with ‘em too, why are you blaming me?”

“You’re fucking a new woman every goddamn week, you have no fucking class, we’re not even supposed to be sleeping with these women,-”

Santiago’s voice, strong and comanding, broke through the bickering. “Gentlemen, please, this is not becoming behavior for Gods.”

With their leader’s command, the other three settled down, Frankie’s eyes casting away. “Sorry, Pope.”

Pushing himself off from the wall he had been leaning against, Santiago walked toward the group. “That can’t be all the options. There’s no way Benny’s made his way through every of age virgin in our compound, we have over 5 thousand people here.”

The men thought through the women they knew, the various families at the massive compound who could accomplish their task. She couldn’t just be a virgin, that was the thing.

They needed their Madonna.

Before her death, Santiago’s mother informed their group that the prophecy would not be fulfilled through Santiago, that he was not the promised savior. Instead, he was destined to lead after her passing and that Santiago, Francisco, William and Benjamin were all demi-Gods. This was a step up for the Millers and Francisco, who had spend their youths in the privileged position of foster brothers to Santiago and living under The Divine Mother’s roof and direct guidance. To Santiago, however, this was a humiliating demotion.

His childhood was never one of whimsy, growing up told that he was a God, that he was the second coming, that he was the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned… All that changed in his pre-teens. Suddenly, his mother was less pleased with him. His divinity was constantly dangled above his head. When his 20’s came and he failed to be what his mother wanted, she stripped him of his full God-hood.

So why, pray tell, were him and his fellow leaders and brethren searching for a virgin? Since Santiago had failed, they needed to father a new child. A new savior. Divine Mother’s instructions were clear; they were all to wed and breed a virgin from their compound. She was to live in their home as their wife for them to use not only whenever they wanted, but whenever they could. A sacred duty to be fruitful and multiple. It didn’t matter whose child grew in her, as long as there was a child. The world would be saved, and Santiago would earn his mothers favor from the heavens.

So, she couldn’t just be anyone. She needed to be a virgin, pure and holy. She needed to be beautiful, strong, faithful to their ways, faithful to the Divine Mother, faithful to the Pope, William, Benjamin, and Francisco.

“What about Marcus’s kid?’ Will asked, breaking their silence, causing everyone to turn to him.

Frank frowned. “You think the daughter of a traitor is the best option for the Madonna?” The sarcasm was clear. He didn’t like this plan as it was. He didn’t want strangers in their home, breaching security, putting his brothers at risk.

“That might actually be the solution to the problem.” He waited until Pope gestured for him to go on, not immediately shutting it down.

“The rebellion was when she was 12, the interrogations found she had no knowledge of her father’s plans. Ever since, she has been isolated. Lydia says she has caused no problems in the women’s home, been obedient but has no friends, no connections.”

“So you think she’s intact?”

“Santi, I doubt she’d had her first kiss.”

Since the rebellion 10 years ago, Will has set up measures to identify problems before they become something like that, and that meant keeping tabs on people. Single women lived in a few group homes throughout the compound. Each home had prefects that reported to house mothers, and house mothers that reported to Will. Anyone that was of any concern, Will checked in on, that included daughters of rebels.

“And she danced at the fire?” Pope asked, arms still crossed but listening.

Will nodded. “She did. No signs of disloyalty.”

Muttering, Frankie asked Ben if he’d slept with her in recent years.

He shook his head. “Nope. Forgot she existed.”

Frankie watched as Pope thought things through, his mouth shifting. Frankie asked, “How are the other viable women going to take it if the daughter of a traitor is chosen above them?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Ben said, defensive of Pope. His loyalty to Santiago went above everything. “If she’s the right person, she’s chosen divinely.”

Santiago held up a hand, stopping another argument. “A redemption. She has the option to purify herself from the sins of her father through the pain of childbirth.”

“Biblical precedent…” Will murmured in agreement.

“And if she fails to produce a child, then we can say we were deceived-”

“Like Eve deceived Adam. Damn, Pope, I think it’s a winner.”

Santiago smiled at his fellow leader, clasping his hands together. “Alright, let’s go visit her, make sure she’s suitable.”

You were dead. It was over. Lydia had cleared all the other women out of the dormitory room and told you that the Pope and the other divine leaders would be coming to speak privately to you and you assumed that you had slipped up somehow and it was the end for you. You didn’t know what you possibly could have done. You never ever spoke badly about anyone, none the less your beloved leaders! You adored them all, worshipped them as they deserved, as you had Divine Mother…

Had they decided you were too much of a liability after what your father had done? How was that possible, it had been a decade… why now…

You gasp. Fransisco… he was clairvoyant… had he seen into your dream? Had he seen what you saw oh-so often, the dreams that forced you awake crying?

You prepared yourself to grovel, to beg for mercy, to plead that these dreams of fire were not what you wanted, that they tormented you. Would you forever be labeled a traitor for what your father had done? Hadn’t you proved your loyalty to The Delta?

The door opened and you dropped to your knees, silent until spoken too. You can hear Benjamin whisper a damn. The floor creaks in front of where you knelt, arms prostrated out and for a moment, everything stood still. Warm hands were on your chin, guiding you up to see him.

He was so much more stunning up close. You’d heard tales from other girls of the men, of the way they bedded them, how it was glorious, the most holy form of worship to allow them inside you… You had taken note that you had not been allowed that honor, you had accepted it as the punishment for the sins of your birth, you never thought you’d be worthy of close contact, but right now… Pope was touching your face, your chin tucked between his thumb and forefinger; his eyes were so close to yours, his plump lips keep a soft smile. “Do not be afraid, darling girl. If we are correct, you may outshine us all.”

“But it is, of course, your choice.”

Your choice…

This phrase was preceded by the reminder that if you said no, there would be no savior.

There was no choice.

“I am a servant to my lords.”

Santiago smiled at that. “Excellent. Now, let’s begin the inspection.”

The what?

“Oh… is it… I swear I am a virgin, I’ve never been touched-”

“I know.” Francisco said. Oh, right. Clairvoyant. “We need to make sure you’re… healthy.”

“Oh. Yes, of course then.”

Francisco undressed you, his calm demeanor and soothing touch eased you as he slowly stripped you of your clothing. He pulled the loose shirt over your body as you raised your hands, the pail bra underneath had a lot of coverage (everything was meant to be practical) but you still felt exposed.

“Just down to her underwear, Francisco.” Will instructed as he watched. Will was a healer, that was his gift.

Francisco pulled down your pants slowly, and you feel eyes scaling you.

“Strip her down fully, Frank.” Ben tells Francisco, and you jolt when you feel his hands on the bare skin on your hips.

Francisco sighs, but Will puts his foot down. “She doesn’t need to be naked, this is invasive enough as it is”

Ben gave a short laugh. “More invasive than fucking her.”

“BEN!” All three of them shouted, discomfort and fears coursing through your body.

“Pope, she’s shaking.” Francisco asserts with his hands on your shoulders and you watch Pope give Ben a look.

“You behave, your brother knows what he’s doing.” He turns to Will, jerking his head at you. “Handle it.”

Will approaches you, his hands on your face. He holds you different than Pope, more firm, more all-encompassing. Will’s hands were larger, and he placed them at the side of your head, like he was holding you together. “Hey, it’s alright. It’s like a medical examination, okay?”

You nod within his grasp. “Okay.”

He smiled at you. “Good girl. I’m going to touch you, just stand there and take it. Trust me.”

You did. You’d follow him anywhere if he spoke like that. His hands move down your neck, slowly over your shoulders and down your arms, sending a chill through your body. He squeezed your hands. “Doing so good princess. Gonna check your backside now, can you straighten up for me?” You square your shoulders as he walks around, towering over you. You lock eyes with Ben; he looks hungry, like he’s ready to pounce but smiling at you with his boyish charm you can’t help wonder what that pounce would feel like. Ben had slept with almost every girl in your dormitory, and you’d been privy to all kinds of colorful descriptions as you overheard girls talking. Not to you. Never to you.

Will rubbed his hands together and breathed on them to aid the warmth before placing his fingertips at the top-most part of your back. Slowly, he dragged 8 fingers down, applying pressure, sending a tingling down your spine as his fingers traced it. “Excellent posture, just need to check a few things.” His hands went back up, fingers bracing at your sides as his thumbs searched certain spots, rubbing over aching parts of you with pressure, but not pain.

“Got a few knots.” Will comment’s, and you turn slight back towards him, suddenly scared.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, no. Nothing to worry about. Just means you’re stressed. It hurt there sometimes?”

He continued massaging you, your next words coming out with a moan. “Yeah.”

“I know it does, sweet girl. Don’t you worry, I’ll help you take care of that. You will be my wife, after all.”

The thought brings a small smile to your face. The smile falters when his hands wrap around your front, William’s body pressed up against your back. His hands are pressing into your stomach, making their way up until he cups your breast, a small groan escaping his mouth that had somehow found its way into your hair.

“She likes that.” You here Ben say, drawing your attention, his grin made you swell with pride. You’d spoken with him before; Benjamin knew all the women. Still, he never chose you to bed and you had thought you weren’t appealing but now, now you see it. Now, as Ben began to touch himself over his pants as he watched his brother examine your body, you realize you were meant for a higher purpose. You were being saved, protected, put on a pedestal for this moment, to be the mother of their child, to be their Madonna.

Will continued him ministrations, soft grunts as he ground his hips into your ass. You can se his eyes are locked in with Pope. Pope, is watching the scene with hooded eyes and parted lips. With a soft but powerful moan, Will stilled behind you, panting a soft kiss on your neck before his fingertips trails your panty line. “Now, for the vaginal exam.”

All the pleasure you felt stops, your body freezing up again. “B-but, you said I wouldn’t-”

William turned you around to face him. “I have to check out your privates, gotta make sure you’re safe. It’s just me, it’s just external, don’t worry. We’ll face away.” He knelt down.

You were acutely aware your ass was still out for the other men when you heard Ben groan when your underwear is pulled down, the distinct sound of him summoning Francisco, who had been quiet so far, and the unzipping of pants.

“Goddamn…” He says, notching your legs so they spread and lifting one foot so it is resting on his bent knee. He touched your sensitive skin. “Pope, you gotta see this… the girls wet.”

“But-” I wanted to protest that he had said it would only be him, but there was no point. Soon, you’d be married, and they be able to have you as much as they wanted.

“Holy shit, she’s dripping…” Pope marvels as the slick running down your thighs.

Will continues prodding at you, fingers running through your glistening folds. In the background was a sound you couldn’t quiet pinpoint, and something that sounded like kissing, but who would be kissing? There was only Ben and Francisco there. Will dips his finger slightly inside your hole, making you gasp.

“Careful.” Pope warned. “She needs to stay intact.”

“I know.” Will groans. “But she’s so fucking tight, Pope.”

A muffled but strong groan behind you, and Pope looks like he’s about to fall apart when he pulls away.

“William, Franisco, Ben. Go to Lydia, tell her the wedding will be at her next ovulation.”

The men reluctantly made their exit leaving Pope alone in the room with you. He pulled up your underwear and pants before helping you back into your shirt. “You are perfect.” He grabbed your face again, pinching your chin and guiding you to look up at him. “Pack only personal items. You’ll have new clothing, everything will be taken care of. From now on, as long as you are what we need you to be, whatever you need, you’ll have.”

He leans in and you open your mouth to him, beautifully alluring, gifting him your first kiss and the spark was ignited. He was everything now.

“My Madonna.”

WE'RE LIVE! So excited to do this, I was a little too excited, I didn't wait until january like i said lol. After this I'm gonna try and finish Blessed be the Fruit and Awakening before going forward which shouldnt be long

PLEEAASEEEE LMK YOU'RE THOTS AND THEORIES!!!!

Special thanks to my BELOVED @hon3yboy for encouraging me so fucking hard with this series!!! she is so wonderful and has written great work including WEREWOLF MARC SPECTOR!!!!

How to keep up with the story!

Comment on this masterlist that you want to be tagged and I'll tag you in updates (If you ask to be tagged, I ask you at least like the fic. Likes dont do anything to spread the work, but it at least lets me know you're still reading.)

Follow @romana-updates and/turn on notifications

Follow the tag Rooms on fire

TAGLIST:

@hon3yboy @winniethewife @femmeanonymelives @yorksgirl @pockcock @neverwheremoonchild @casa-boiardi @meveispunk @survivingandenduring @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @obscurexsorrows @hellfire-state-of-mind @christinamadsen @pimosworld @princessanglophile @rubyfruitjungle @simple-lovebot @missdictatorme @campingwiththecharmings @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @javier-penas-wifexx420 @stefani-topaz @alwaysmicado

if I missed you LMK!!!!

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wardenparker · 4 months ago

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The Stars Re-Align, part 3

Frankie Morales x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 13.1k Warnings: Reader is given an age and a grown daughter. Cursing, food/alcohol, mentions of military service (obviously), complicated relationships, family drama, mentions of past abusive relationship, mentions of past drug use, miscommunication, revelations, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex. Summary: Helping Frankie and Luna get set up for the next steps of their life brings them much closer to you and Rachel. And to the possibility of family. Notes: Thank you so much to everyone who left such lovely comments and tags on this story as we went along! We really love a good One That Got Away story and we're so happy that you all do, too. Please enjoy the final installment! 🧡 As always, the gif is for the vibes, *not* a physical representation of the reader.

Half an hour after the call, when Benny knocks on the door of Fish's apartment, it's Pope who answers the door. "You brought a second army," he observes. There's just a touch of sadness in his smile when his eyes fall on you, but only a touch. In some ways, it just proves he made the right decision that you've dropped everything to come here.

“I was having dinner with them.” Benny shuffles into the apartment and looks around. “What’s going on, man?”

"Everybody come in." If he's surprised to see you, Will doesn't show it.

There's a tall woman at his side doing some very studious typing on her phone and you dimly recall Rachel saying Ben's brother has a long-term girlfriend. What catches your attention and holds it is the figure of Frankie Morales cradling a baby in his arms, and the way it wraps around your heart and twists is terrible. It's jealousy, but you have no right to that particular emotion. Not now or ever.

Settled by the bottle, Luna isn’t crying anymore, but Frankie continues to hold her close. Probably using her as a bit of a crutch himself, he can’t bring himself to put her down, even if she’s fallen back asleep.

The apartment is a mess. Things have been thrown around in a deliberate temper tantrum sort of way and it's clear that some frantic behavior has followed that tantrum, causing a bit more of a mess in the process. "Frankie..." For now you swallow down whatever conflicting emotions you have and walk over to him while the others get settled. "Ben said it was an emergency," you explain, as if you're trying to dignify why you came with Ben and Rachel even though you know that's not strictly necessary. "Are you—is she—okay?"

“You— she’s—” he’s practically speechless that you are here, his gaze darting around the destroyed apartment and he’s embarrassed that you are seeing this. “She’s okay…physically.” He murmurs, bouncing her in his arms slightly and feeling a little off kilter. “Uh— Marie, she, uh, she found Rachel’s phone number in my jacket.” He clears his throat. “She left.”

“She left…like…permanently?” You swallow hard around the implications of that, trying to reconcile what Rachel has told you of this woman with the kind of person that would abandon a child. It’s not the same as what happened with you and Frankie. This, in your opinion, is far worse.

“I think so.” While Frankie had just talked about extricating himself from a relationship with Marie, he had never once considered a situation where she would abandon Luna. He looks down at his daughter, and then his eyes find Rachel’s guiltily. As if he were just as equally horrible.

“What happened?” No sooner does Rachel meet his eyes than she’s crossing the apartment, laying one gentle hand on Luna’s back and very nearly reaching to hug him. She doesn’t know if he would even want that, but the way she almost just added Dad to the end of her sentence makes her own heart break.

He doesn’t want to tell her. Finding it too repulsive to even consider, but he owes her the most truth he can give. “She— she thinks that it was something different.” He tells her quietly. “Like I would cheat, or sleep with Ben’s girlfriend.” He doesn’t even bring up how disgusting it is since she is his daughter. “I tried to tell her that you— that we are—” he curses himself and snorts. “I told her you are my daughter and she didn’t believe me.”

Rachel blows out a long breath and centers herself, hands on her hips just like her father when he’s working something out. “Can I be honest?” Rachel asks, standing between her two parents and shaking her head.

“Always.” It’s not like he expects anything else, but he wants her to be able to share her thoughts and feelings.

“Marie is a cunt, Dad.” Rachel doesn’t beat around the bush, but reaches again to rub Luna’s back. “I’m glad she’s gone, if she really is. Because she’s awful and you two deserve so much better.”

The snickers of the guys showcase their complete agreement with her view and Frankie frowns as he looks down at his sleeping daughter again. “I just— I didn’t expect her to call our daughter a crotch goblin.” He admits quietly. “She was happy she was pregnant. Even if I wasn’t thrilled.” It’s a guilty thought, but he hadn’t been overly joyful at the prospect of having a kid.

“Terrible people say terrible things,” Rachel reasons. She leans forward more this time, waving one friendly finger in her baby sister’s face to make her giggle then places a kiss on Luna’s forehead. “Good riddance. And if she ever says another word against this little angel, I’ll punt her across the Gulf.”

“I— you’re right.” He sighs softly, his heart clenching at the sight of his previously unknown daughter being so sweet to Luna. “I knew she was resentful that I left on a…business trip when Luna was a few weeks old, but I never thought she would take it out on her.”

“Having a child doesn’t automatically make you a good parent,” you reason, with your hands sheepishly stuffed in your pockets. “Just like you can be an amazing parent without ever having children of your own. It’s not clean-cut like that. And it sounds like…like she was not going to be in this for the long run. One way or another.”

His eyes meet yours, sad because it feels like you might be making a pointed statement about him. He just nods and sighs again when Luna kicks, looking down at her and rubbing her stomach as he holds her. “Yeah.”

“I just mean…” He looks so fucking sad that your heart breaks all over again, when you meant to be supporting him. “There are plenty of people in your circle who are going to be ready to help you, Frankie. Just because the woman who gave birth to this little girl turned out to be less-than-ideal doesn’t mean she’ll be alone. We’re all here to help.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” He reminds you quietly. “Call it poetic justice.” He doesn’t want you to feel like you have to do anything. Not after what he’s done.

“Don’t be silly.” What happened between the two of you is beside the point, as far as you’re concerned. At least it isn’t relevant right now, so you brush it aside. “It takes a village, right? Well, here we are.”

The differences between you and Marie could not be more evident than at this moment. He swallows harshly and he looks back up at you. “Thanks.”

“Okay.” Santiago’s voice cuts through the tension in the room, and most of the group takes that as a signal to congregate, all moving toward the living room sofa en masse. “So we have some things to figure out, but the ball is rolling. Jess is getting in contact with a lawyer for custody papers, the clean up here will take maybe an hour at most, and from there it’s making sure Fish and Luna are taken care of.”

“I— thanks again.” Frankie mutters, looking incredibly embarrassed by all of this. “I appreciate this and Luna does as well.”

“If it was one of us, you’d be right there in the trenches,” Benny reminds him. He sits down on the edge of the couch and puts an arm around Rachel when she comes to sit beside him, grateful for nothing but kindness from both her and you.

“I have some work I can do remotely for a week or two,” you offer, knowing that handling a baby alone can be difficult even under the best conditions. “And…I can cook.” A thing which was never Frankie’s forte as a teenager.

“I guess that’s— I don’t want to come between you and your life.” His eyes slide over to Santiago, burying his own jealousy because it’s not fair.

“I have the time and the skills.” It isn’t meant to be a rude reminder, but just an honest one. You’re the only person here who has raised a baby thus far. “I’ll take a personal day tomorrow and then work from home for a little while. The office won’t mind, since I’m still in the preliminary stages of my next project.”

“If you’re sure…” Frankie can take care of his daughter. That’s never been a problem. He’s not one that complains about getting up during the night or changing dirty diapers. But he is trying to appeal the loss of his license and needs to be able to attend hearings. It was good that he had preemptively went to rehab and could provide clean tests. Hopefully it would be enough.

“I have a work laptop, a deep knowledge of Disney and children’s music, and the ability to cook enough to leave you leftovers.” For the first time, your hand moves to his arm and you give it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sure, Frankie.”

"It won't be for long." He promises. "As soon as I can get my license back, I can afford to get a daycare or a sitter service for Luna." He shrugs slightly. "I can fly again." He's not sure what Santiago has told you, but there's no need to hide anything from you.

“Mom has you covered for a little bit, and Benny and I can help,” Rachel assures him. The deep need to connect to her little sister and be there for her father is strong and already growing.

“And Jess and I will fill in the blanks,” Will promises. Luna will never be without a second set of eyes, Fish. You’ll be able to make your appointments and do everything you need to do.”

Frankie blows out a sigh and he looks around. "Should I move?" He asks quietly. "In case she comes back? Or stay here and if she does come back, we address it then?"

“Move in with us.” Rachel blurts out, unapologetic in her honesty and immediately stubborn on the point as soon as the thought occurs to her. “We have the space, and Marie wouldn’t know how to find you.”

Frankie's eyes widen at the offer and his heart leaps at the idea but his gaze darts over to you. "Rachel, sweetheart...I couldn't possibly do that." He shakes his head when your own shocked face mirrors his. You don't want that and he won't make your life harder.

“Guys, will you give us a minute?” This is not a conversation that you want spectators for, and it only takes a second of hesitation for Will and Jess to stand.

“Let’s start picking up.” Will suggests, casting meaningful looks at Santiago and Benny. This isn’t their conversation. Especially not Pope’s anymore.

Frankie shuffles slightly, biting his lip and wishing that he didn't have to hear the scolding that Rachel was in for. He knows that she only has good intentions, but it's not the same as offering up a place to live for him and a child he fathered by another woman.

“Do you feel unsafe here?” You ask Frankie, wanting an honest answer rather than the one he feels he ought to give. Men have a hard time speaking up in abusive situations for a hell of a lot of reasons and you’re not about to add to his stress. “Like if Marie came back, she might hurt you or the baby?”

"She wouldn't hurt me." Frankie assures you. "But...I don't— I might hurt her." He admits softly. "If she tries to hurt Luna. I'll talk to the property management. Have the locks changed."

“Is there any possibility she would actually try to hurt Luna?” This sweet little baby did nothing wrong, and the part of you that missed out on getting to see Frankie hold your little girl is both savoring and jealous of this moment of his protection.

"If she's high?" Frankie wouldn't want to believe it, but he can't be sure. "I don't know. She's angry at me and she knows that I would die for Luna."

“If she’s—” That is going to have to be a conversation for another time, but you nod your head once and look at Rachel. Your steadfast, loyal-to-a-fault daughter is looking at you so expectantly that you can’t even hold her gaze, and end up looking back at Frankie. “We have a guest room and a safe neighborhood. Our HOA is a pain in the ass but if they know a vehicle isn’t supposed to be in the neighborhood they will have a tow truck in the street before she even gets out of her car.”

"Gatita..." he closes his eyes and relaxes slightly when he feels Rachel take the baby from him. Opening his eyes again, he knows that it's the right choice. "We won't be there long." He promises after a moment.

"You'll be there for as long as you need to be." Will it be awkward, maneuvering around each other? Sure. But this isn't about your comfort level. This is about his safety and the safety of his baby.

******

Your home is surprisingly easy to settle into, but Frankie tries to give you and Rachel space. Finding some of the run ins a little awkward in that ‘navigating new roommates’ waters. Right now though, it’s three in the morning and Luna has woken up hungry. Leaving a sleepy-eyed Dad to shuffle into the kitchen in a pair of sleep pants and a little girl bouncing against his bare shoulder as he mixes up a bottle.

There’s a light on in the kitchen when you come down the stairs, bleary-eyed and dealing with a stupid amount of heartburn from that second helping of chili you shouldn’t have had at dinner. You can hear him before you see him — the gentle shushing of a parent soothing an infant — and you knock gently on the archway to the kitchen before stepping inside. “Sorry to interrupt,” you murmur quietly, not wanting to scare Luna.

“Hey, sorry.” Frankie winces slightly, sure that he’s woken you up. “Baby girl needed a bottle. We’ll be settled down and quiet soon.”

“Don’t worry about it.” When you move toward the fridge too, you almost laugh at the irony. “I came down for milk, too. Heartburn is a bitch.”

He winces sympathetically and nods. “Remember when we were young? Heartburn was something our parents made up.” He snorts, aware that he’s had to change his diet as he’s gotten older.

“I’d give anything to be able to eat the way we did back then.” The carton of milk comes out onto the counter and so does a glass, but you’re self-conscious of giving Frankie enough space so you stay tucked in the corner. “Can I ask…” You shift slightly in place. “How are you adjusting?”

“Day to day, at night, it’s not a lot of difference.” Frankie admits. You have helped him tremendously during the day, but he insists on taking care of Luna himself when he gets back. “I always took care of the baby when I got home.” He tells you. “She needed a break and I didn’t mind.”

“Is there anything you need picked up? Changed?” It’s not your place to remark on his ex-girlfriend’s parenting, or seeming lack thereof, but you have noticed that the only people who contact him are his lawyer and his friends. The guys have been quite active actually, either helping him move the last of his things from the apartment into storage, helping with Luna, or helping him get things organized for his hearings.

“I don’t think so.” He is so grateful to you for everything. “I am planning on cutting the grass tomorrow.” He tells you. “So don’t worry about that.”

“I’m assuming it won’t make a difference if I tell you that you don’t need to do chores?” The Frankie of your past was a stubborn guy, and a nostalgic smile curls your lips.

“No.” Frankie frowns and looks over at you with dark eyes. “You are letting me stay, watching my child and you won’t take my money.” He huffs, slightly offended at the handout. “I can help around here.”

“Just don’t overextend yourself. Your appointments are more important than the lawn.” It’s nice that he wants to help, and you’re not going to stop him, but you don’t want Frankie to get himself behind because he gets obsessed with helping.

“I know.” Frankie nods. “I don’t have an appointment tomorrow. And the lawyers said that it looks promising.” He tells you.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Your own glass of milk is cold and soothing, and you pour a second for good measure. “I was planning on working from home again tomorrow. I hope that won’t bother you too much.”

“Gatita, this is your house.” Frankie reminds you. “You are free to do whatever you want.” He snorts. “If you wanted to walk around naked, I would just have to try to not stare.” He’s tired and he’s been dreaming about you after spending so much time with you. He didn’t mean to say that, but it popped out.

The burning in your cheeks is immediate, that combination of embarrassment and rekindled desire making you quickly look away so he won’t see how much you love hearing him call you Gatita again, or how much you actually want him to mean it when he says things like that to you. It had been deep in your head that the love you still have for Frankie would bubble to the surface with him in your house, but you didn’t know quite how bad it was going to be. “Well…I would say you’ve always been a gentleman, but we were teenagers together. The parts of us that are good at restraint now didn’t really exist back then.”

“No need to be a gentleman when I had you.” Frankie murmurs softly, twisting the cap back on the bottle and shaking it up as Luna grunts against his shoulder. She’s not crying right now, but she will be if she doesn’t get her bottle. “Only had to restrain myself around our parents.”

“Something neither of us was terribly good at,” you admit with a snort. “At least they never actually caught us having sex. That would have been mortifying.”

“Dad did.” Frankie admits, sending you a sheepish grin. “Senior year. He opened the door slightly and immediately closed it. I saw him in the mirror.”

“Oh my god.” You almost drop your glass, fumbling to get it on the counter with little enough noise to not agitate the baby and stifle your laughter at the same time. “Seriously? I am so glad you never told me that.”

He laughs quietly and nods. “We had sworn to never speak of it. And I hadn’t, until now.”

“I never would have been able to look him in the eye again.” Unfortunately, Frankie’s father had passed years ago — your own parents had sent you the obituary. “I sent flowers to the funeral home when he passed,” you admit quietly. “No card or anything, but…it was too little too late. I know that.”

Frankie closes his eyes and sighs softly. “Thank you.” He murmurs softly. “He loved you and he told me that I was the biggest goddamn fool for breaking up with you.”

“We were kids.” It’s not a good reason but it’s still a reason, and you’re not willing to rehash your breakup at 3am over milk with his infant.

“Yeah.” He can see that you are building walls against the conversation. He turns Luna over and pops the bottle into her mouth. “Well…I better let you get back to bed.” He murmurs. “Goodnight.”

“I—” The feeling of being dismissed from your own kitchen is uncomfortable at best, and you frown before setting your glass in the dishwasher and simply stepping away. “Sorry to have disturbed you. Goodnight.”

Frankie frowns as he watches you leave and he hates how it seems like you’ve taken three steps back. Sighing softly, he looks down at Luna staring up at him. “What?” He asks her softly. “I didn’t do anything.”

******

By the next morning, you’ve resolved to apologize. Being short with him was unnecessary and doesn’t exactly make things easier for anyone. Not to mention, Frankie is having a hard enough time as it is without you getting mopey that he hasn’t just sat down beside you on the couch and snuggled you into his side like you want him to.

Getting up early, you head back downstairs and start making up a big pan of French toast and another whole tray of bacon. Sure there’s only three of you, but baking breakfast will give you time to make some fresh baby food for Luna, something you had loved doing for Rachel as well.

Frankie wakes up to the sounds of stirring in the kitchen. Groaning quietly at the aches and pains of his older self. Getting older sucks and it’s compounded by the abuse he put his body through when he was in the Army. Glancing at the clock, he sighs and sits up, grabbing his shirt. He will need to get started on the lawn before Luna wakes up.

The coffee pot has just finished bubbling when he gets downstairs, the rich, black brew piping hot and mixing with the other smells in the kitchen to be nothing short of enticing. Coffee, cinnamon, vanilla, bacon, and apples all mix together in the early morning like a welcoming curtain of comfort.

“Smells good.” Frankie shoves his hat on his head. “Baby’s still asleep. Thought I would get started on the grass.”

"Okay." Even though you nod, you gesture slightly at the baby monitor in his hand. "Do you want to leave that with me? I can get her changed and fed while breakfast cooks. She's got fresh apple and sweet potato puree for this morning."

“You’re too good to us—her.” Frankie huffs, shooting you a small smile. “After I get done, I’ll take her right back. I promise.”

"Frankie..." Your palms sweat and you hate yourself for being so affected by him still, but here you are. So deeply affected that you feel like you're fifteen all over again. "I wanted to apologize. For last night."

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Frankie shakes his head. “I was��out of line.”

"I shouldn't have been dismissive, or snapped at you. It's not out of line to want to talk about our past." Exhaling softly, you lean back against the counter and bite your bottom lip as you debate how much is really wise to say. "It's just bringing up a lot of old emotions and I wasn't prepared to work through them thoroughly at three in the morning."

“Yeah,” Frankie shuffles slightly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He hums quietly. “I know that it’s hard. I should have just kept quiet.”

"No." You shake your head and take a step back toward him instead of shrinking away again. "No, that's...keeping quiet and hiding things from each other is how I got us into this mess. I don't want to perpetuate that anymore."

Frankie sighs. “No, me being a fucking asshole is what got us into the mess of you raising a kid by yourself.” He tells you.

"I should have just told you." Twenty-four years of hindsight is twenty-twenty. "If I hadn't been so scared, it would have worked out eventually."

“And I should have come back.” Frankie snorts. “I should have found you. Begged you to take me back.” He puts his hands on his hips. “There’s a million things I shouldn’t have done, or should have.”

"I should have figured out how to write to you at boot camp. Or found your parents after they moved. Anything." Your arms cross over your chest in some kind of unconscious half-mirroring of him, but you end up swallowing a sigh. "Rachel does that, you know. Her hands on her hips, like you do. There's so much of you in her and I'm so sorry that you missed some of it."

Those words make him close his eyes. Absorbing them and trying not to let them hurt as bad as they do. “I just don’t want to miss any more.”

"I don't want you to, either." It's a small admission. Also too little, too late. But at least it's honest. "And neither does she."

“I know you don’t – this isn’t ideal.” Frankie admits. “You don’t really want me here. And I just don’t want to overstep.”

"Why do you think I don't want you here?" Can you guess at plenty of reasons? Of course. But you're curious to know why he assumes you would have invited him into your home if you didn't want him here at all.

“Who wants their ex in their house?” Frankie snorts. “I’ve cost you your relationship, made you a babysitter and make you uncomfortable by bringing up a past I can’t forget.” He practically whispers the last part, almost ashamed of it.

Something about the whole scenario just makes you crack in your chest and you almost cave in on yourself, letting the words out before you can stop yourself. Six simple words, but with so much meaning. "I don't care. I miss you."

Frankie bites his lip, curling his hands into his hips to keep from reaching for you. “You miss who I was.” He reminds you. “I’ve become a very different one.”

"So have I." You weren't expecting rejection to sting as much as it does, even though you don't even know that you actually offered enough for him to reject. It still makes you want to cry, though, in a very vulnerable and surprised sort of way. "That doesn't mean we aren't still who we are at the core."

“I’ve…done things.” Frankie admits. “Bad things. Things that would make you curl away from me in disgust.”

"Nobody's pure." But you shuffle a little where you're standing and look up again, actually looking him in the eyes. "Santiago told me about South America. Everything. So I'm not as much of a wilting flower as you might think."

“Never said you were.” He knows you are strong, capable. You raised Rachel by yourself and all the struggles that it entailed.

"I'm not trying to force anything." Though if it happened, you would absolutely not be opposed to it. You've realized that in the three days since Frankie and Luna moved into your house. "I'm just saying, if I didn't want you here, or I didn't want to know who you are now...then you wouldn't be here at all. I just wouldn't have offered, regardless of anything Rachel said."

“Maybe you shouldn’t have offered.” Frankie snorts. “Fuck knows you wouldn’t have if you know what I think about around you.” He’s just determined to beat himself up, still depressed and trying to self-sabotage without the use of coke.

That just makes you scoff, shoving your hands in your pockets weakly because what you really want to do is cross the kitchen tiles and just throw your arms around him like you always used to. "I fully expect you to hate me. I'm not going to make you leave my house just because you rightfully dislike your ex for keeping your daughter from you."

He stares at you for a moment before he laughs. “You think I hate you?” He demands roughly. “Hate doesn’t have me dreaming about seeing if I could beat the goddamn record I set when we were seventeen.” He hisses. “Hate doesn’t have me waking up in the middle of the night with my hand around my cock because you still smell the same and those sheets smell like you. Hate isn’t something I want to do to you, gatita.”

For about three full seconds, all you can do is stand there and stare at him. It's like your mind had shut down trying to comprehend what he is saying to you and is only slowly booting back up like an ancient computer. A small squeak escapes you and all the air goes out of your chest just before water pricks at your eyes, and all of a sudden you're moving straight across the kitchen to kiss him before you can even process what you're doing.

Frankie had fully expected a hand across his cheek, so when you launch yourself at him, he’s shocked. Groaning against your lips for a split second before he’s wrapping his arms around you, one hand cradling your head to keep you close. To keep you kissing him.

He's thicker than he was as a gangly teenager. Age has given him muscles and then softened them again, making him pliant under your touch just as much as you are under his. The powerful magnet of attraction between you leaves no room for questioning in the moment. You're just two people clinging desperately to each other and to hope, and the first slide of your tongue against his when your lips part to deepen the kiss is like coming home. A very specific, very teenage home – but this is still where your heart lives.

Frankie groans, finding it to be his turn to move. Turning and pressing you against the counter as he drowns in this kiss. It feels so right, despite the mistakes that he has made, the sins he has committed, he tastes nothing but the overwhelming sense of rightness in your lips.

He had dipped down to find the perfect angle to capture your soft moan when it crossed your lips, but now Frankie straightens again. Breaking your head so it won’t hit the cabinets, his other hand pulls you close at the waist — expanded, soft from carrying and birthing a baby and simply being alive for more than forty years — as your hands wander his body to recommit every plane of him to memory. There’s a beautiful rosy nostalgia over the kiss even with the nearly feral need each of you feels, and something drastic might have happened if not for the soft cry of surprise that emanates from the half-light of the living room.

Pulling back in surprise, Frankie’s eyes widen when he sees Rachel standing there. “Uh, I—” he glances at you, unsure of what to say at this point.

“Rach, why don’t you go check on your sister?” You suggest, feeling the reason that Frankie might need a couple of minutes to calm down throb and jump against your hip. Not that your restraint is much better. You’re going to need to change your panties just from being kissed.

“Uh, sure, I can do that.” She nods dramatically, whirling around. “Then I—I’m going to go over to Ben’s. All day. I’ll text when I come back.”

“Breakfast in five minutes!” You call after her, not sure if she’s actually heard you or not as her footsteps ascend the stairs all over again. She’s gone again in a flash and you bite your lip when your eyes track back to Frankie, no guilt or embarrassment in your expression, only a little bit of sheepishness at being caught.

“Well, I think that embarrassed her.” Frankie comments as he looks over to you. He doesn’t know exactly what you are thinking, but it’s not regret on your face. That makes a ghost of a smile curl up the edges of his mouth.

“Don’t let her fool you.” The warmth in your cheeks is only matched by the warmth in the rest of you, waves of it crawling under your skin with how close he is. “She thinks I don’t know that she’s wanted her parents back together since she was five years old.”

“She didn’t know me.” Frankie frowns slightly and hopes this isn’t just some kind of wish fulfillment.

“I used to tell her more.” You admit, though you’re not sure if that’s good or bad. It’s selfish, but it was also survival. “I stopped when she got old enough to realize that…” Blowing out a breath, your eyes drop down from his. He probably does not want to hear this, despite kissing you back just now. “That I’ve still always had feelings for you.”

“You— you still wanted to be with me?” He’s surprised that you would, given how he had left. “Baby….its— I’ve always regretted leaving you. I called you.” He reveals. “Several times….but I never could say anything.”

“You called?” Your eyebrows raise back all the way up your forehead, eyes watery with hopeful tears that you refuse to shed and ruin the moment. “Oh no…” A gasp leaves you, almost washing out the sounds of Rachel and Luna cooing and giggling at each other over the baby monitor. “You called…in the two years after you left for the Army?”

“Yeah.” Frankie chokes out, looking away and feeling ashamed that he hadn’t been able to fucking say a word when he had called your house. “After I got out of bootcamp. I would fucking dial your number at least twice a week. Every time, someone would pick up and I couldn’t say a word. Didn’t have the words I wanted to say.”

“And then…after a while…the number stopped working?” You guess, biting back a sigh of regret.

“Yeah.” He frowns and tilts his head. “How did you—”

“Because my parents got their phone number changed after we had so many hangups in such a short amount of time,” you explain, now feeling guilty for what had happened. “They thought it was some criminal or stalker or something. We moved about a year later anyway.”

“Fuck.” Frankie hisses, closing his eyes and berating himself for his fucking stupidity. “I just— I choked every time I tried to ask for you. In fucking Delta training and I couldn’t fucking apologize.”

“No use in being upset about it now…” Those days are twenty years past. A lifetime ago and then some. And you’re stuck in the here and now with your hand still flexing at his hip. “We should…talk, though. Rach is going to have a million questions.”

“Of course.” He nods and slides his hands over his lounging pants. “What— you start.”

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it… You tell yourself sternly, eyes flickering down to where his large hands stretch dangerously to other, equally interesting parts of him. “We both just…we were seeing other people. Until literally a few days ago.” If you don’t remind yourselves of that you feel like you’ll burst. “But…I miss you. And I do still have feelings for you. And…and if you’re open to it, when you’re ready, I think finding out how we could be together as adults is— well, it’s a long time coming, would you say?”

That….is not what he expected you to say. He had expected to hear something about taking it slow or perhaps it should be kept quiet, but not that. “I’ve never stopped having feelings for you.” Frankie promises you softly. “And I— I’ve missed you every goddamn day.”

“I’m not going to push you for anything. Not quickly, not ever.” Whatever he wants to have with you, you want it to be freely given just like you intend to give freely. “I kind of…really love seeing you in my house like this…”

He looks down at his clothes, like that might explain what you are talking about. “Rumpled?” He jokes quietly.

“That’s one word for it,” You admit, grinning softly. “I was thinking sexy, though.”

“If tired, ex-military dad is sexy, I guess I’m it.” Frankie smirks.

“It is.” You can’t help but laugh a little. “Definitely.”

He steps closer to you again. “Well, do you want to drool over this tired dad mowing the grass?” He teases. “I’ll even do it shirtless.”

“Eat breakfast with us first.” That is something you’ll insist on, especially since the timer is about to go off on the oven in about twenty seconds. “And then I’ll sit and gawk at the dining room table afterward.”

Frankie snorts but agrees with a nod. “It smells amazing. You are a great cook.”

“You always liked breakfast, so I took a shot that you would like Rachel’s favorite baked French toast.” You’re going to need to open the oven in just a few seconds, but the last thing you want to do is pull away from the heat of him. “I swear I can do more than just casseroles now.”

He chuckles quietly. “Better than me. Although I need to learn. Luna deserves to have a parent who can feed her more than frozen dinners.” You also deserve to have some of the burden lifted off of you, but that’s another conversation.

“I’ll teach you if you want?” There were a couple of family recipes his mother taught you when you were teenagers that Rachel loves, and plenty of other things of course. But when the timer goes off and you’re forced to step away reluctantly, you add: “And I bet Rachel would, too. She’s pretty damn good in her own right. It might be something you can do together.”

“Maybe we can all do it?” Frankie asks hopefully. Wanting to spend time with both of you. “Between the two of you, I might have a fighting chance.”

“Absolutely.” You’re about willing to promise him anything he wants right now, but first it’s just about taking the pans out of the oven and stifling the need to steal one more kiss when you hear Rachel descend the stairs with a happily babbling Luna in her arms.

“Good.” Frankie makes sure you aren’t holding a pan when he swoops in again. Planting a quick, hard kiss on your lips. “Later.” He whispers, much like he had promised so many years ago when you were about to be interrupted.

It’s good that the girls make plenty of noise coming downstairs so no one else can hear the more-than-slightly-pitiful whimper that Frankie pulls out of you, but you snap back into reality well enough to clamp your mouth shut and motion for him to grab plates from the cupboard without imploding.

“Everyone decent?” Rachel calls out before her head pokes around the door. “There’s a small child present!”

“We were never not decent,” you point out, waving your daughter into the room. “Do you want to get your sister’s cup of food or help your dad set the table?” It’s possibly the most domestic sentence you’ve said…maybe ever, and it rolls through you like summer sunrise.

“Whatever you need me to do.” Her grin is wide and proudly embarrassed as she eyes both of you. “Soooooooooooo. Mom.” She tilts her head towards you with a glint in her eyes. “Do we need to have the safe sex talk, young lady?”

“Your very existence is proof that it’s too late for that,” you remind her, but a smirk forms in the corner of your mouth either way. “Let’s all sit down to eat and we can talk a little. Okay?”

“Seriously though.” Rachel turns towards her dad. “You hurt my mom, and I’ll sic Ben on you.” She warns playfully.

“Sweet pea, get your sister settled and we’ll all talk,” you insist, biting your lip a little at the idea of anything going wrong again. You don’t like it and you don’t even want to process it right now.

“Okay.” It’s more you using ‘sweet pea’ instead of anything else that makes her nod and move to get Luna settled in her high chair. You are upset about something, or avoiding it and she wonders what it is.

It takes a few minutes to get everyone settled and served, but you manage it pretty well and Frankie gets Luna fed before digging in for himself.

“So….” Frankie takes a bite, groaning and rolling his eyes happily at the taste of the casserole. “This is good.” He moans. “Like the best damn thing I’ve ever eaten.” He might have been about to start this talk, but now he’s distracted by the breakfast.

"Iknowright?" Rachel mumbles all at once, thrilled to see her favorite breakfast materialize on the table without asking for it.

“So good.” He forks up another bite before reaching for the syrup again to add more to the French toast bake.

"At least I know I can subdue you both with French toast if you get out of hand," you tease, looking between father and daughter at the table and snorting a laugh.

Both of them look up at you at the same time, forks halfway to their mouths, with the exact same disgruntled expression on their faces.

"Goddamn I wish you could see yourselves right now." It isn't that you didn't know Rachel was like her father. You had known that for her whole life. But seeing them side by side throws it into sharp relief. "Look at these two," you coo to Luna, reaching over to tickle the baby's soft and chubby belly in that way that makes her giggle. "They're exactly the same, aren't they sweetheart?"

It’s fucking amazing, how you are with Luna. Frankie had always felt like Marie wasn’t as maternal or soft as he thought she should be, but then immediately felt guilty for thinking that way. He’s just happy that you are obviously thrilled to have a baby in the house. “We have some similar traits?” He asks, looking over at Rachel.

"Apparently a lot." Rachel shrugs, not knowing she does it in the same way as her father and always has. "According to Mom, Ben should have picked up a vibe really fast."

"I think it just made him subconsciously more comfortable with you," you clarify, forking up another bite of your own breakfast. "Which is a good thing. I'm not saying he should have been confused by it or anything."

Frankie chuckles lightly and reaches over to pick up another spoonful of the puréed apples and sweet potato to feed to Luna. “He would have just thought you were weird.” He jokes.

"To be fair, he does think I'm weird," Rachel clarifies. Her coffee is getting low and she stretches to grab the pot for a refill. "But he likes that about me."

He snorts and nods, holding up his cup when she offers to refresh his. “Ben’s weird himself, so that checks out.”

"Weird is better." You've always thought so. Even used to say so when you were younger. "It's more interesting."

“You used to say I was your perfect kind of weird.” Frankie blurts out, remembering when you would lovingly coo it to him. He would always roll his eyes, but he enjoyed it.

"You were." The reminder – the fact that he even remembers you saying that – warms through you and your face burns bashfully. "Probably still are, if we're honest."

“I think that makes you even weirder.” Frankie snorts, shooting you a playful look. “Because….look at me.”

"I'm not exactly the world's most exciting person, Frankie." You aim a shrug in his direction, doctoring your refilled mug of coffee. "It took me a long time, but for the most part I'm happy with where I am in life. That doesn't make me too interesting, though."

“No, nothing is interesting about a strong, beautiful, capable woman who has raised an equally beautiful daughter by herself, made a comfortable life for her and still maintained the sweetness of youth.” Frankie narrows his eyes slightly, hating how you put yourself down.

"And she has a super fucking cool job, too." Rachel pipes up, obviously ready to back her father up on this one. "Working for the Mouse means we get to go to the parks for free. Luna's going to love it just like I did."

“Just because you went, doesn’t mean Luna will get tickets too, sweetheart.” Frankie reminds her.

“Of course we’ll go.” The idea that Frankie doesn’t think you’d treat his baby daughter well hits you somewhere deep in your chest and you work not to frown. “Unless you don’t want to go? Then we’ll just have a girl’s day.”

“It’s not—” he’s offended you, something that he wasn’t trying to do and he shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way you took it. I just— I never assume anything.” He tells you. “Just because you have tickets doesn’t mean you owe them us, that’s all.”

“It isn’t that I owe it to you.” Reaching across the space at the table in front of Luna’s highchair, you squeeze his hand gently. “But Rach is right, even if she didn’t exactly mean to point it out. We’re a family.”

Frankie looks over at Luna and smiles softly, the baby is shoving her fingers in her mouth and cooing happily. “You ever want more kids?” He asks.

"All the time." You don't mind answering that honestly, but you shrug your shoulders and pick up a piece of bacon from your plate. "I don't relish being referred to as a geriatric pregnancy, though."

“You aren’t geriatric.” Frankie frowns and shakes his head. “Hell— I mean…I thought this was my first go round, but I missed the first.” He hates it, but he reaches over and takes Rachel’s hand with his other. Holding both of your hands.

"Geriatric pregnancies are anyone giving birth over the age of thirty-five." Rachel clarifies for her father, fully putting aside her fork to hold his hand with both of hers. "Mom just doesn't want to feel old. Even though she says I'm the thing that made her old." The last thought comes with a teasing grin thrown your way.

“Hell, I feel ancient knowing I have a grown ass daughter.” Frankie snorts, shaking his head. “I know she feels the same way, considering she had to carry you.”

Your own half-laugh sounds when you swing your head over to look at him. "You make big babies, Morales."

He chuckles and shrugs slightly. “That might be why Marie was never happy after Luna.” He jokes. “She was nearly eleven pounds, believe it or not.”

Rachel snorts, forkful of food halfway to her mouth, and grins. "Twins. I was eleven pounds, too. Eleven pounds and...twenty inches?" She looks to you when she can't remember.

"Twenty-one." It probably shouldn't, but it makes you laugh at this point. The horror over how big she was at birth is long over with. "The nurse asked me if the father was a giant."

“Definitely not a giant.” Frankie huffs, knowing that he’s shorter and weighs less than Rachel’s boyfriend. But he can still kick his ass.

"To answer your question..." The three of you go back to eating, finishing up your plates with satisfaction. "I absolutely think about having more kids all the time. That's why I love babysitting so much."

“Yeah….” It’s definitely helped him. He had spent so much time worrying about his home life that he couldn’t properly square things away. He owes you a lot. “You’re great with her.”

"If I ever overstep, you just need to tell me." It's been a lot of years since you took care of your own infant. Parenting advice has definitely changed. And as much as you might dream about having another kid, Luna is not your baby. She's Frankie's and that means he has the last word on decisions for her.

“I doubt you could overstep.” He argues but he nods when you just stare at him. “But I will let you know.”

"So..." When the last bite is off her plate, Rachel sits back in her chair with her coffee mug in both hands. "I'm going to go to Ben's..." she repeats her thought from earlier with both eyebrows raised. "All day. Probably for two days...you guys...gonna do anything special?"

Frankie cuts his eyes over to Rachel, knowing exactly what she’s going to be doing thanks to Ben’s fat fucking mouth before he knew she was his daughter. “Talking.” He grunts. “Cutting the grass. Cleaning my guns.”

"Dad..." Since she broke the ice on using that title, Rachel has embraced it. "No guns on Ben."

“No promises.” Frankie huffs. “Fucker deserves it.” He shrugs his shoulders when she squawks at him. “What? I won’t hit anything vital!”

"Sorry, Rach." You snicker softly, under your breath. "This is part of having a Dad."

“I don’t think I like this part.” Rachel rolls her eyes playfully and Frankie rolls his right back.

“Yeah, will I don’t like knowing how my daughter gives a blowjob. So we’re even.”

"Okey dokey." Instantly shooting up from the table, you focus entirely on picking up Luna without looking at Rachel or Frankie. "Gonna take the baby into the living room. I'll clean up later."

“Sorry.” Frankie apologizes as you whisk out of the room like your pants are on fire. “Shouldn’t have said that.”

"She'll get over it." Rachel does smile though, a small and embarrassed expression on her face. "Ben feels like an asshole for talking the way he did, for the record. He apologized to me, too. Even though I don't really care."

“We’ve all talked that way before.” Frankie can admit that. The only reason it became a problem is because of who she is to him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t care. “But it’s good he apologized. He really loves you.”

"And I really love him." She promises, absolutely serious. "As his friend, I hope you know that."

“Even as your dad.” It’s a title that always makes him smile when either one of them uses it. “I want you to be with someone who loves you. That’s all I want. He’s a good man.”

"I know it's new..." she sips her coffee as they sit together. "But do you mind that I've started using that name?"

“No.” That’s something he would never mind. “Not at all, I’m….glad you feel comfortable calling me ‘Dad’.” He admits with a small smile. “Just hope that one day that you’re proud that I am your dad.”

"I am proud." Even when he was just her boyfriend's friend, she had always liked Frankie a lot. He's a good guy who doesn't give himself nearly enough credit. "I'm proud of Mom and I'm proud of you, too."

“That…that’s great.” He nods, enjoying the conversation and feeling proud of the fact that she is happy to know him.

"I'm going to clean up and go to Ben's." Pushing back from the table and standing, Rachel puts one hand out to squeeze his shoulder and starts to pick up dishes and stack them in her arms. "Whatever you and Mom end up talking about...just know how much she loves you. My whole life she's never looked at another guy the way she looks at you. I know you mean the world to her."

“You have no reason to really believe me, because of me being gone from your life the entire time you were growing up, but I don’t want to hurt her. Ever again.” Frankie promises. “I think we deserve to be happy.”

"I think so, too." Rachel agrees, but instead of letting the moment get too serious, she throws her father a grin and nods toward the backyard. "So go mow the lawn so she can have a good ogle. I'll clean up from breakfast before I go."

Frankie snorts, aware that her knowledge of that meant she had been eavesdropping, but he doesn’t mind it. “Thanks,” he tosses her his own grin and pushes back from the table to at least clear his plate. “Plus, it’ll be good for her not to have to do the grass.”

******

“I don’t think you will be less than a mama to her.” He hums as he transfers the baby into your arms. “She will only know you as her mother, especially the way you already love her.”

“Sounds like you’re planning on staying.” And while it’s just an observation, your heart leaps up into your throat so you have to swallow it back done just to breathe.

“If that’s what we decide.” He won’t push his way in. Luna yawns and leans her head against your shoulder in a move that makes him smile. “We can talk about it later. She’s sleepy and I need a shower.”

“I’ll put her down for her nap. You go clean up, love.” Honestly? You dread the thought of Frankie leaving again. Even having him leave to go to work will have you in a state of anxiety for a while, even if you’re doing your best to hold it together for the girls’ sakes. Luna needs a steady caregiver and Rachel absolutely does not need to see you anxious or worrying over her father.

“Come talk to me after you get her down?” He asks, knowing it won’t take him long to shower. He would probably be dressed by the time you get her down.

“Absolutely.” Not having to talk over the baby’s head is a good place to start, if nothing else. You lean in when he moves to kiss your cheek again and then part, with Frankie heading to the bathroom and you heading into what is now Luna’s nursery.

Frankie has been trained by the military. He was never an untidy person to start, but an entire career in the Army had taught him how to clean and be efficient in showering. He does take a little more time today, trimming his beard and shaving, wanting to clean up a little more for you.

As predicted, by the time you get Luna settled down for her nap, you hear the shower shut off down the hall. A small stop off in your own room might just be to check your hair and that you haven’t had a bit of bacon stuck in your teeth all morning. Once you’ve decided he’s had enough time to dress and you can’t stall anymore, you grab the baby monitor and go down the hall to knock on his door.

Because of the shaving, Frankie is still wrapped in a towel, secured at his waist. Still, he doesn’t hesitate. “Come in.”

"Luna's down for her uh— her, her nap," you report, only barely stammering when you see Frankie standing by the bed and sighing inwardly at the way your mouth runs dry.

“Good.” He doesn’t smirk, although he wants to. You alternate between staring and looking away in embarrassment.

"It's gonna be hard to talk if I can't look you in the eye." Which is stupid, because it's not like he wasn't the first person in the world you were naked with – but here you are flustered like a teenager all over again.

“Does it bother you?” Frankie asks, looking down. “That I’m not dressed? You knocked on my door.”

"It doesn't bother me." But you do feel the need to clarify, for the sake of the situation. "It's just very distracting."

“Distracting, huh?” Frankie was never more confident than he was with you and since being here, that has started to come back. “Wonder why that is.”

"Because you're handsome, Francisco," you huff, fully amused, and roll your eyes at him for effect.

“And you’re gorgeous, gatita.” He murmurs.

"We should probably have that talk." Instinctively, shutting the door comes with stepping inside, even though it isn't necessary. Maybe it's a leftover reflex from seeking privacy in the apartments where you grew up.

“Okay.” Frankie moves over to the dresser to grab a pair of sweats to slide on under the towel so you won’t be uncomfortable.

"You want to go first?" The only place in the room to sit is on the guest bed, and you perch on the end with your hands under your thighs and nerves jittering out of control.

“You look like you need get things off your chest.” Frankie hums. “You can go first.”

"I'm just...trying to think about what comes next." Your fingers twist in the blanket, making you look even more nervous than you feel. "I make plenty enough to support this family while you get things cleared up with your license. This is a stable home for Luna with actual family to help look after her. "If what you want is to be back together, we're in a very good position to make it work."

“I have my retirement.” Frankie reminds you. “I don’t expect you to support us. I want to take care of you too.” He never wants to take advantage of you. He wants to give you more than he ever takes.

"Do you actually still enjoy flying? Is it something you want to get back to? Or is it what you were doing because you were made to?" It's a fair question, and one you don't ask easily. But you get the feeling that before this, Frankie didn't get a lot of options.

“I love it.” Frankie admits. “I’m fucking good at it, completely in love with it. Why?”

"I wasn't sure if Marie had given you a chance to actually choose what you love to do, instead of just what would make money," you admit. "I was going to offer that you could take your time. Pursue whatever you wanted to, or even be a stay at home Dad for a while if that's something that interests you. I just..." One hand sneaks out from under your thigh and reaches for him as you sit on the bed. "I want you to be happy, baby. Truly happy."

“I—” Frankie’s never thought about being a stay at home dad. “I volunteered for flight school. Being in the air, flying, it’s like second nature to me now.” He tells you, kneeling down in front of you. “But…I wouldn’t mind staying home with Luna.” He admits. “I would be happy with that for a bit. I could fly part time. Spend most of it with her, still get my thrills from flying.”

"I don't want you to do what you feel you have to." That point can't have enough emphasis for you. It really is the backbone of everything you want for his future – that it is a future he chooses for himself out of passion and excitement. "If flying is what you want to do, then find the job that makes you the most excited. That lets you balance and be happy and not run yourself into the ground like I know you've been doing because you're still the same Frankie that I fell in love with when we were just kids."

“What I have to do is to be a good example to Luna, to Rachel.” He tells you. “To give them everything I can and make you happy too.”

"And I have every faith that you'll do that." Just once, you lost your faith in Frankie Morales because of fear. You're not going to let it happen again, when you're finally in a position for both of you to really have everything you've ever wanted.

“Can I kiss you again?” Frankie asks, looking into your eyes.

It's like feeling a light switch flip somewhere in your body, and you light up all over. Including your brightest smile. "I really want you to."

Frankie smiles, huffing out a small laugh as he lunges forward and presses his lips to yours again.

The momentum tips you backward on the bed, laying you out on the bed underneath him and making you reach up to grab his shoulders to steady yourself. It's not a small kiss or a tentative one, but one that blots out the rest of the world, making sure the only thing you can possibly think of is him.

It’s been a long time since he has been so enthusiastic about kissing someone, but this is just like your first time all over again. He’s nervous, excited. Age and experience are the only things keeping his hips from rocking an already hard erection against your stomach as he covers your body with his own.

If anyone was trying to tell the difference between you and Frankie as teenagers and you and Frankie now, they would find the task almost impossible. An all-consuming kiss, wandering grasping hands, and only the barest thread of restraint are all hallmarks of the two of you together. If he had still been wearing that towel it would be gone in an instant, but as it is one of your hands slides all the way down to the waistband of his sweatpants and grips in earnest.

“Fuck.” Drowning in you is where he wants to stay. Barely breathing and pulling himself away to kiss down your neck. Wanting to kiss every inch of you. “I— I got checked out.” He groans against your neck. “Physical. I’m clean.”

The pause that gives you is immediate, freezing under him in embarrassment. “I—I haven’t yet. Since…it’s only been a few days. I have condoms though.” With all the upheaval since ending things with Santiago, getting tested had slipped your mind.

“It’s – Pope’s clean.” He knows his brother in arms. He knows how the man is. He might have been a man whore before, but he doesn’t sleep with multiple women. If he was with you, he was tested and only slept with you. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“I—” Maybe its impulsive. Or overly emotional. But when Frankie meets your eyes all you can do is tell him the truth. “I just want to feel you again.”

Frankie groans and nods, nudging his nose against yours and kissing you again. “I want that too.” He insists, pulling away to start peeling your clothes off of you as efficiently as possible.

The pair of leggings and light dress you had reached for this morning in an effort for minimal fuss might as well be nothing at all in the face of Frankie’s determination. The thin cotton dress is up over your head in no time and the leggings peel off of you with all the difficulty of a two-piece puzzle. “I didn’t expect this…” you admit quietly, telling him I’m not so many words that you would have at least picked a matching bra and panties set this morning if you thought there was a possibility he would see them.

“Neither did I,” his smooth cheek would suggest otherwise, but he grins and leans down to kiss down your chest. “But I don’t care about panties, hair, or anything else. I just want you.”

It’s useless that he felt the need to put on pants, because now you’re pushing them off his hips with both hands and biting back a groan at the softness of him. He’s filled out, because of course he has, and the scars from his missions echo your stretch marks in all the years that have been lost between you.

“Gatita…” Your nickname comes out like a prayer, his lips worshipping every inch of your skin.

“Bet it’s been a while since you’ve groaned that name.” It’s certainly been long enough since you heard it like that, a fact that shivers through you with increasing excitement.

“Not true.” He admits with a small smirk as he looks up at you. “You were still my favorite jerk off memory.”

“Still moaning my name while you get yourself off?” Someone that’s simultaneously the sweetest and filthiest thing you’ve heard in ages and you open your legs wider to let him rest in that valley between your thighs. “Let’s see if we can give you something new to think about.”

He gives another filthy groan, aware that things have changed, but he doesn’t care. Your stretch marks are gorgeous to him, you gave birth to his child. Every mark is special. You are just as sexy to him as you were when you both were teenagers. He pulls your bra down and wraps his lips around one nipple as he slides his fingers between your folds to find your clit.

“Fuck, Frankie!” Careful not to be too loud since Luna is napping down the hall, you bite back letting a real shout out and it turns into more of a growl. Your hands are on him instantly, grasping at his shoulders, curling in his hair, and holding him in tight against you as your hips snap up to seek out his thick fingers.

He chuckles darkly, very pleased to find that you are reactive and vocal in your older years. Keeping you quiet had been a favorite game of his.

It isn’t really that different from when you were young. The desire is there as clear as day, coursing through you and sparking with every touch. Every kiss is endlessly deep, like you hold the key to each other’s lives somewhere inside yourselves and the hunt for that missing piece is as deliberate as it is lazy.

Fingers circle your throbbing sex, slicking themselves up with the arousal that is pouring out of you before he dips them inside. Remembering how you loved to be fingered when you were younger, even letting him do it on the subway under a jacket.

If it were anyone else, you might be embarrassed at how thoroughly dripping you are for him already. But Frankie was the first to feel how wet you get from something as simple as being kissed just right, and the hope that is making your pulse beat wildly out of time right now is that he will also be the last. The bookends of your lives might always have been meant to be each other.

The key to making your legs shake and your pussy clench around him is to start slowly. Pushing two fingers deep and curling them up as your walls stretch around him. Groaning at your nipple and flicking his tongue over the stiff peak.

For as well as he remembers your body, it might as well be yesterday that he last touched you and not twenty-five years ago. Your back bows and you moan again, fingernails scraping against his scalp in the way that always makes him growl gorgeously.

“Shit.” Frankie hisses in pleasure, pulling his fingers back and enjoying the sucking sound that they make in your sopping wet pussy. Only to press his thumb to your clit and plunge them back deep again.

The whines and whimpers he pulls from you are as deliberate as any musician playing their instrument in an orchestra. He still plays you expertly. Like muscle memory. He is the one who taught you so much of what brings you pleasure, and you did the same for him. It's all you can do in this moment to get your mind into high gear like the rest of your body, and reach down with one hand and wrap your fingers around his cock.

"Fuck." He groans, rocking his hips up towards the long-wanted touch of your hands. "You always touch me— fuck," he moans your name. "You touch me like no one else ever has."

"Always make me feel so good, baby," you pant out, body twisting every second to be able to be as close to him as possible. "Always want to return the favor."

"You will." He promises. "Let me make you feel good."

"You always do." The promise is absolute, because he really always knows how to make you feel better than anything else ever could.

His fingers continue to pump into you, working you higher and higher as every sensitive nerve ending in your pussy is set on fire by his touch. The tell-tale sign is when your legs begin to shake, thighs tightening and pussy clenching around his fingers. The long strokes of your hand over his cock stutter as pleasure starts to short-circuit your mind, making you forget everything except how good you feel. Frankie has always been good with his hands, but he's definitely learned a few tricks over the years.

Your pussy clenches around his fingers like a vice and he keeps pumping them into you. Wanting to wring you of every second of pleasure you will give him. The quiet cry of his name is like a shot of lightning through his system. "Good girl, fuck gatita. You're so good for me."

It's not you who is being good right now, but Frankie who is treating you so well that when you cry out in pleasure there are actual tears in your eyes. The peak of that pleasure that he's been building you up to is so high that you almost get the sensation of falling when your body finally tenses, shaking you apart at the seams so that the only part of you that hangs on as you start to cum are the parts of you that he has claimed as his own.

His lips still skim over your body as he works you through it. Whispering praises into your skin in Spanish as he watches your face in awe. Struck by how beautiful you are, crushed that he has been so stupid as to walk away so long ago. Determine to make up for lost time.

Whimpering when the aftershocks leave you limp underneath him, both of your hands urge Frankie back up your body, needing to kiss him more than you need air in this moment.

He hums proudly as he shuffles up, kissing you lazily with a grin curving his lips. “Sounds like you just came, gatita.” He teases quietly.

“You’re a menace, Frankie Morales.” The observation is as true now was it was twenty-five years ago.

"Your menace." He adds, smirking slightly as he kisses you again. It sounds amazing, being yours again. He's always been yours in his heart, but now...it's a second chance for both of you.

“I love you, baby.” Another kiss for him is gentler this time. His face is full of promises and his eyes shine bright in the early afternoon light that streams in through his windows.

"I love you." He vows softly, reaching up and caressing your cheek. "I want to make love to you."

“Please.” It might sound like begging, and maybe it is, but it’s been far too long since the last time you laid in this man’s arms and right now you don’t want to be anywhere else.

Every touch is calculated, timed. Meant to show you how much he is cherishing you and this moment means the world to him. He kisses your lips and whispers his love for you once again as he shifts and lines up with your welcoming entrance.

Every stitch of clothing between you is gone along with your inhibitions. Nothing to interrupt you as long as Luna stays asleep and you are definitely not going to do anything to wake up that angel. You'll swallow down every cry or pour it into kissing Frankie and just basking in the beauty of having him back in this moment.

"I love you, gatita." They were the same words that he had whispered to you when he had pushed inside you the first time, repeated now as he slowly starts to sink into you. Watching every micro expression you make as he feels like he is coming home.

“I love you s—so much.” You’ve never been overtly emotional about sex. Not really. You weren’t the kind of girl who cried at the emotional moment of losing your virginity or got choked up over a loving vow made in the heat of the moment. But being so connected with Frankie again almost has you in tears at the sheer rightness of this moment.

Frankie’s arms slide under you, pulling you close as he starts to pull his hips back. Not wanting there to be an inch of space between you when there doesn’t have to be. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He whispers. “Not letting you go again.”

The promise rolls through you with such seriousness that you cling to him a little more tightly. “Never going to let you go.” When his hips tilt forward again, filling you and pressing your bodies together just that much tighter, you could swear you feel one of the cracks in your heart knit back together.

His own heart doesn’t ache anymore, the missing piece that has been gaping in his chest is returned to him. Slotted right back into place perfectly and making him whole. Kissing you again as age and emotions make this time last much longer than your first together.

Moans and praises stay stifled not because of a small apartment with family nearby, not because of friends or because the moment is stolen or illicit, but because you’re drowning in kissing each other the entire time. Every movement is fluid, moving one into the other so it is impossible to tell where you end and he begins, all that matters is that you’re not letting go. Nothing else matters if it isn’t something you can do together — because you’ll never be apart again.

Nothing has ever been as magical as this moment, beyond the first moment he held Luna after she was just born. Nothing can compare to the utter tranquility in his soul, the quiet in his mind as he gives and takes from you in equal parts.

Who knows how long you stay in that bed, turning over each other, clinging and moaning low into drawn out kisses. Who knows how long you stay there or how many times you change positions, keeping each other as close as possible while you work through the bliss of reunion up to the precipice of pleasure. By the time his hips start to stutter and the coil of orgasm starts to tug at the pit of your stomach, you’re on top of him — riding him even as you pour your heart into sobbing praise.

Looking up at you in wonder, all he can do is watch as you splinter yourself into pieces on top of him. Mixing and mingling with him until he is tugging you back close and devouring your mouth in another kiss. Breathing his amazement into you.

You shatter together, finding that remarkable peak of pleasure all at once, and holding tight to each other as you ride out the aftershocks as one.

It goes on forever. Or at least it seems too. Both of you drifting down together until you are collapsed against his chest and breathless. Frankie aching with the first good pain he’s felt in such a long time.

“I love you, baby.” This is it. This is home. The closest to paradise you have ever been or will ever be is in this man’s arms and you’re not going to let another second of your life pass without him being a part of it.

“I love you too, gatita.” He wraps an arm around you and strokes your bare back softly. “I had a thought today, one that’s horrible, but it’s true.” You hum, lifting up to your elbow to look at him curiously. “I wished that you were Luna’s mother. That she was our second baby together.” He chuckles. “Or that late in life ‘whoops’.”

“You never know,” you hum softly, cradled on his chest with your knees still bracketing his hips. If you never move again, you’ll be only too happy to be this close to him. “I still have a couple of years in me as far as baby making goes. Only a few, but they’re still there. And Luna…Frankie, I already love her. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t give birth to her myself.”

His brow lifts in surprise. “Would you really want that?” He asks seriously. “Another baby? With me?”

“I don’t know if it’s possible or safe,” you remind him gently, lifting your head to kiss him again. “But what if I made an appointment with my doctor to get checked out? Let her tell us if it’s a bad idea before we get our hearts set on it?”

“Whatever you want.” Frankie agrees. “I’m clean.” He promises you softly. “I’m never touching any of that shit ever again.” He told you about the coke and you had taken it surprisingly well, but he wants to remind you that he’s serious.

"I know, love." It was a long and twisted road that led him to that, and Marie was the one driving the proverbial car, so you know it's behind him for sure. But you also know Rachel would never forgive him if he relapsed and something happened to little Luna, and he has the love of two daughters hanging in the balance now. "I also know, whatever happens, I love you and I'm going to be right here at your side."

“My license is going to be reinstated.” He whispers quietly. “One of the board members told me. It’s not official yet, but he….wanted to let me know.”

"Honey that's— that's fantastic." You dive in to kiss him again before reluctantly sliding off of him, letting yourself be tucked into his side instead. "We're gonna make it work this time, Frankie. Every bit of it."

“Even if I don’t fly right away, I have my retirement. My disability.” He promises. “I can help you. I need to help you.”

"We'll make up a budget, and we'll make sure everyone is contributing to the house somehow." The grin playing at your lips is soft, and you brush some hair out of his eyes. "Luna can contribute with giggles. The adults will take care of the rest."

“She also blows great raspberries.” He jokes, still slowly caressing your back and hoping this moment never ends.

As if the mention of her name was enough, the sounds of movement from over the baby monitor are nondescript for a minute or so before the soft cooing of a wakening baby turns to the blustering that comes before cries. "Well..." you huff a small laugh and lift yourself up on your elbow. "At least she let us finish."

Frankie laughs and taps your hip. “I’ll get her.” He promises.

"I'm gonna clean up and then I'll meet you downstairs?" The domesticity of the whole thing makes you smile, and you lay back on the pillow again to admire him as he hauls himself out of bed to pull on his boxers and grabs the baby monitor.

Frankie coos when he opens the door, instantly moving over to the crib to get Luna out. “It’s okay, baby girl. Daddy’s gotcha.”

It is okay. Life may not be perfect yet but the promise of it is there. He has you back, he has both of his daughters, and he’s going to make it work this time. You all are. As a family.

______

TSR: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @darkheartgatita @anoverwhelmingdin @thisishwrworld

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Frankie Morales #Frankie Morales x you #Frankie Morales x reader #Frankie Morales x female reader #Frankie Morales x f!reader #Santiago Garcia #Francisco 'Catfish' Morales #Santiago 'Pope' Garcia #The One That Got Away #Feral Frankie Friday #Triple Frontier #Triple Frontier fanfic #TF fic

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