#Joel miller x f!reader x Francisco morales

[pimosworld]

Moon shine

TLOU x Triple Frontier crossover AU

Pairing-Joel Miller × f!reader × Francisco Morales

Summary- You were a bartender at Joel's place and everyone knew you were his but when you meet Francisco Morales you wonder if there’s room in your life for one more.

Rating-Explicit18+ MDNI

Content warnings- Alcohol consumption, eventual mmf dynamics, smut,angst,fluff,violence, any further warnings will be added to individual chapters.

WK-4.5k

Chapter summary- The tf boys arrive at the Boston QZ and get acquainted with the workings of the bar.

A/N- See series Masterlist for story notes

[Series Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]

Chapter I The pleasures all mine

“Sorry it took us longer to get here than we originally said.” Will insisted on being the only one to speak to Joel so as to not ruffle any feathers. Santi is seated in the chair next to him as he fidgets uncomfortably. The office was neat but worn, much like Joel. Filled with things from before, the wooden mahogany desk Joel sat behind as he took a more relaxed posture to the serious conversation. 

  Benny moves idly around the room,touching things he shouldn’t as Frankie nervously leans on the wall near the door. He’s still on edge from the events it took to get here and he wants to be aware of all his surroundings. 

  “No apologies needed,I’m sorry you all lost one of your own.” Santi scoffs and Joel throws him a sideways glare. 

  “I don’t mean to be insensitive but he put himself and us in danger.” Will clears his throat and Santi hangs his head, he was usually the one in charge so it was hard for him to hold his tongue. He desperately needed to humble himself after the fallout in the Dallas QZ. This was their last opportunity to find a place to call home. 

  “We don’t need to bother you with the details of Tom's death.” Right now. 

  Joel will definitely want to hear the details at some point. If he was going to trust these men he often demanded to know everything. There were no secrets around him and the mere fact that whispering was going on behind his back in town was the reason he enlisted his cousin's help.

  “Why don’t we get down to business so you fellas can rest for the evenin.” Joel pulls a small black notebook out of his desk drawer and flips to a tan near the end. 

  “I run a pretty lucrative bar here in Boston, not the only bar but the most successful. If you’re gonna spend your ration cards you don’t want the product or the company to be shit.” The low timber in his voice is incredibly distracting to Frankie as he tries to focus on what he’s saying. 

  “I’ve run into a few problems lately and that’s not good for business. Too many fights, too many risky clientele feeling comfortable here and most importantly too many patrons hassling my bartender.”

  Frankie’s not sure why that’s the most important over the other issues, bartenders could hold their own and if they couldn’t he could just find someone else to pour the cheap liquor that most people consumed just to get some sleep or forget about the world they lived in. 

  “William and Santiago, I need you to be my eyes and ears in the bar while it’s open and outside the bar while it’s closed. Benjamin I need you to keep the patrons in line when it gets busy, I’ve had fights shut me down for a few days and we can’t have that.” He stops his wandering around the room to grin amongst the other men. 

  “So I’m just a bouncer.”

  “Ben!” Will stands from his chair to approach but Joel raises his hand, stopping any further movement.

  “It’s fine, I know it sounds boring but it will be plenty exciting.” Ben spins the globe on the desk seemingly more fascinated in that than arguing about his new job. 

  “Francisco…you have the most important job.” Frankie looks up from the scratches he’s been studying on the floor, not much interested until now what their jobs were. He just wanted somewhere to rest for the first time in weeks. 

  “I need you to look after my bartender, she’s one of the main reasons why this place is so popular and lately she’s been getting hassled.” He turns to him, raising an eyebrow but lets him continue. “Make sure she can do her job with no interruptions and walk her home when I have late business dealings at the bar.” He thinks it’s a joke at first but he sees the seriousness in Joel’s face. 

  Joel was not a small man, he had strong broad shoulders and a commanding tone that said he was not to be fucked with. Frankie doesn’t need to continue to list the reasons why he couldn’t bring himself to look anywhere but the floor before being addressed formally.Until now

  “Excuse me, I don’t mean to be rude but you seem like a man that can take care of his staff without question.” Joel smiles a wide berth grin that would have anyone else on their knees.

  “I certainly can take care of my staff but I can’t be everywhere at once. In order for me to continue my business as usual I need to make sure she’s safe.”

  Ben is bent over in laughter and Frankie’s jaw clenches at the sight of Santis' shoulder visibly shaking while his back is turned to him.

  “I’m sorry for complaining about my job Joel, I’d gladly be a bouncer over a babysitter.” Frankie shoots him a look and Ben just raises his hands in mock surrender. 

  “Jesus Ben what the fuck is wrong with you,are you trying to embarrass me.” Will is in his face now practically spitting fire. 

  Joel hasn’t so much as flinched throughout the entire meeting, he seems eerily calm despite the group of men all but spitting in his face at the offer of jobs and a place to stay. They weren’t much for authority after the outbreak or staying in one place too long. It was a hard habit to break.

  “Relax Will I know you boys have had a long journey, I’ll just chalk it up to exhaustion and hope it doesn’t happen again.” He says the last part directly to Benny which seems to temporarily shut him up.

  Frankie’s had enough of this meeting and he's  wondering what is so goddamn special about this…

  Suddenly the door to the office opens and from where he’s standing he thinks maybe he’s died and gone to heaven. 

  You’re standing there in a baby blue sundress, the stark contrast to your black combat boots. You’re holding a tray with a drink that looks like a traditional old fashioned and a single cigar. Three two luxuries he hasn’t had in awhile standing right in front of him.

  “Joel…I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were expecting people. I’ll come back later.” 

  “Hold on sugar, not so fast. I'd like you to meet a few people.” He motions for you to come over and you hesitantly make your way around the desk to set the tray down. He taps on his thigh with one finger so subtle that only you could see. 

  It wasn’t unlike Joel to show possession but in what seemed to be a private meeting this was unusual. Still you knew not to test him in front of company you could be a brat on your own time.

  You took a seat on his lap with your legs tossed to the side, you were feeling exposed in your dress and it didn’t help when he had you seated so precariously. He looked at you with those deep brown eyes, they almost seemed black with the way he was so excited to be showing you off. 

  “I should be the one apologizing to you, this meetings gone on longer than I anticipated and it’s cutting into our special time.” He talks as if you’re the only one in the room and your cheeks grow hot at the bold way he suggests what you were going to do in his office. 

  Frankie’s throat has gone dry, the temperature in the room is stifling as he feels a bead of sweat travel down his back. He should look somewhere else but he can’t take his eyes off the way your dress rides up the way you're seated on Joel’s lap. His large calloused hands rubbing slowly up and down your thigh as he talks so sweetly to you. 

  He wonders what it would feel like to get his hands on you, your skin looks so soft and he can imagine his face buried between…

  “Fish…” Did someone say his name?

  You’re chuckling to yourself  as you finally meet his gaze, those soft brown eyes much like Joel’s but just a hint of innocence. He takes his cap running his fingers through those soft locks and quickly places it back on his head. You wonder what it would feel like to run your fingers through his hair or grip it as he…

  “He’s the one that’ll be looking after you.” Joel’s voice brings you back to the moment and all you can seem to remember is someone called him.

  “Fish?” You look at the older blonde and incredibly handsome man sitting across from you for some guidance. 

  They all laugh amongst themselves, perhaps some inside joke you weren’t privy to and you can’t help but notice how handsome they all are. The younger blonde who is much too enthralled in the trinkets in Joel’s office, lets you know he hasn’t seen much of life before the outbreak. If it weren’t for Joel you wouldn’t know of such things either. 

  The shorter man with the salt and pepper curls gave you a flirtatious wink, not unlike some of the men in Boston who tried to gain your attention. You didn’t have time for men like him but he seemed more of a gentleman than the latter. 

  “Umm…it’s just a nickname sweetheart, his name is Frankie, the bouncy one over there is my brother Ben, this is Santi and my name is Will.” You’ll be sure to remember Frankie. 

  Joel squeezes your thigh and tips his head towards the room. 

  “My name is Moonshine.” You still weren’t sure about these men and you weren’t interested in giving out your real name just yet. 

  Joel leans in close to your ear, his breath is hot on your skin as he traces that spot on your neck with his lips. “This shy sweet act you’re puttin on is cute.” He loves to tease, and right now you’re not feeling like being your usual bratty self. 

  “Joel I really should be getting the bar set up for tonight.” You’ve had enough of being on display and you figure he’s made his point whatever that may be. 

  “Sure thing Darlin.” He taps your leg as you stand and hands you the drink on the tray. Confusion etched across your face as to why he would hand you his afternoon cocktail. 

  “You should let Francisco have a taste, it seems like he wants to try it.” Frankie forgets how to breathe, it’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room.Was it that obvious? The way he’s been transfixed on you. If so then he’s surely out of a job before it even starts. 

  You cross the short distance to him silently thanking the gods that you remembered how to move your legs. You hand him the glass and your fingers barely touch but you both feel the electricity between you. Your composure was breaking sitting in Joel’s lap and now it’s threatening to combust. Just as you reach the door you hear Joel clear his throat behind you. You silently curse under your breath as you turn on your heel. 

  “Moon, don’t you want to see Francisco’s face when he tries it? You made it after all.” The way Joel says his name and the way you’re looking at him, pleading more than anything to be out of this situation. 

  He lifts the glass to his lips without breaking your eye contact and it takes everything in him not to moan at the strong but sweet flavor as it floods his senses. He doesn’t think he’s tasted anything this good in a very long time. You don’t miss the way his throat bobs as he takes two large gulps of the drink. Joel liked it from before and he taught you how to make it, you hope Frankie likes it just as much. 

  “This…this is incredible. I’ve never tasted anything like it.” It feels like he’s staring into your soul, you haven’t felt like this since…you met Joel. 

  “I’m sure you haven’t.” Joel drops his tone dangerously low and you can feel the shift in the room. So can he and he knows there won’t be much back talk from the team now. 

  “You can go now sweetheart, I’ll see you later.” You finally leave the office and desperately clutch your chest on the other side of the wall, trying to catch your breath. You need to get a grip around him or you are going to be in big trouble. 

  “That right there is why we’re the best bar in town.” Joel’s pointing in Frankie’s direction and he hasn’t taken his eyes off the melting ice in the glass as the condensation drips down his fingers. “We also have the best booze.” Frankie looks at him now and he knows why his job is the most important. 

  “You guys take tonight off and rest, your apartments are upstairs a few floors above the bar. Feel free to come down for a drink when you’re rested.” A bed and a hot shower sounded like heaven right about now. 

  “You sure you don’t want us to start tonight.” Will never wanting to be a burden can’t help but offer as Ben grumbles from somewhere in the room. 

  “No I’d actually prefer you watch how things run normally so you can see for yourself what I’m dealing with.” Joel stands from his desk to shake each of their hands as they exit the room and Frankie sets the glass down on the tray before shaking his. 

  He turns to him before he leaves hesitating in the doorway. “Thank you for this opportunity Mr.Miller,it was a pleasure to meet you.” He picks up the glass as he laughs, swirling it around, eyeing the way it moves so freely.

  “The drink must have been good if you’re thankin me already.” He takes the rest of the drink down in one gulp and sets it back on the tray. “You can call me Joel and the pleasures all mine.” 

  Frankie finally exits the room taking a few deep breaths as he walks through the bar. Fuck he was in big trouble.

  ****

Later that night after some much needed rest and the hottest shower the boys have had in months they all file down to the bar to grab a drink and do some intel. 

  It’s plenty packed as they slide into a large booth in the corner of the room. They’re used to having eyes on them but there’s so much commotion they’re hardly noticed. The bar smells of smoke and stale cologne. It’s a myriad of noises from the dragging of chairs across the floor to the clinking of glasses in celebration. Inside this bar would almost make you feel like things were normal outside. 

  There’s a small stage with a beautiful brunette playing songs on a guitar. She must be around their age if she’s old enough to know these songs, of course Santi’s attention is rapped on her as the sweet melody carries  throughout the noise of raucous laughter and men getting a little too loud. A few couples are dancing on the small black and white tiles in front of the stage. People seem to be happy here or at least attempting to be. 

  The wall is lined with booths with cracked red leather seats and cherry wood tables. The middle of the room is mostly tables and chairs where a lot of the seedy men Joel mentioned have congregated. Will notices a lot of ration cards being passed about and makes a mental note to mention it to Joel. It seems too much side business is happening in this bar which is sure to bring some unwanted attention. 

  Ben hears some yelling at the front door and sees Joel dragging someone out by their collar, he starts to slide out of the booth before Will grabs his shoulder and tugs.

  “We’re supposed to be observing.” Ben shrugs his arm off and sits back against the booth. 

  “You expect me not to go over there?” 

  “I thought you didn’t want this job.” Joel closes the door and glances their way offering them a curt smile. 

  “Ya well I wouldn’t mind hitting someone right about now, he wasn’t lying when he said I wouldn’t be bored.” Bennys fingers are tapping the table nervously, he was ready to start his new job if it meant he could rough some people up and get paid again. 

  Until the scuffle at the front door Frankie’s attention has been solely on you. From the moment he walked in he could tell you were in your element. The way you moved so fluidly behind the bar like it was second nature. You had to have at least 30 people waiting for drinks and you somehow managed to command attention from all of them. He was focused on the way your lips moved when you asked what they wanted or the way you spoke with your eyes to let someone know you’d be right with them. You would make 3 or 4 drinks at a time without breaking a sweat. It was entirely too distracting when you would shake the drink high over your head with one hand and manage to pour a beer with the other. Now he notices the line is gone as well as you. 

  “Hi boys.” A tray of beers slamming on the table snaps him out of his trance. You’re wearing a black thin tank with cut off black shorts and your boots from earlier. The red lipstick is a little faded from wearing all night but it compliments you perfectly. He can smell the hint of vanilla and something citrus wafting off you over the pungent smells of the bar. 

  “I saw you come inside a while ago but I was so busy, I hope beer is fine I don’t really have time to make you my specialty cocktail.” You place the glasses and pour them all beers noticing the way Frankie is watching you. 

  “Beer is fine sweetheart, thank you.” Will says looking around the table at his friends who’ve seemed to be interested in other things. 

  “Pope quit gawking at the singer.” Your head snaps to the stage and you smirk to yourself. 

  “So…Pope and Fish, any other nicknames I should know about?” 

  “Iron head is by brothers I don’t have one.” Ben squeaks out before his brother can stop him. You raise an eyebrow at the younger man before turning to the group. 

  “It was our call sign in the military.” Will seems suddenly bashful so you decide not to pry. 

  “What about you Moonshine, you look a little young for that nickname.” Frankie finally speaks a little more confident than he was earlier in the day and you figure now is as good a time as any to drop the shy act. 

  “You don’t look like a Fish and I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” You wink as you flip the tray under your arm. “Oh by the way my name is -, and ugh… Pope her name is Charity.” You point to the brunette on stage and he smiles to himself as you turn and walk away. 

  “So what’s her real name?” You spin on your heel and walk back to the table, as you reach across to grab his beer from his hand Frankie can just barely see down your black tank top, you down Santi’s beer in no time flat, as you tipped your head back some beer spilled down your neck and it takes all the willpower in the world for Frankie to not lean forward and lick it off you. 

  “Her real name is Charity ass hole.” You pour him another beer as Benny gives you a slow clap, pleasantly amused at his friend's wide eyed expression. 

  You saunter away towards the bar as Pope gives a low whistle. 

  “Have fun with that one hermaño.” Frankie shoots Santi a look that says drop it and he knows he’s only kidding but he realizes that he does indeed have his work cut out for him. 

  “Get your hands off me!” You haven’t made it very far when he sees some grubby older man has your arm in a grip that is sure to leave marks. Joel’s crossing the room before Frankie even realized he was standing and heading towards the table. 

  “I’ve been waiting for a drink for ten minutes.” He’s practically spitting in your face, piss drunk and certainly doesn’t need anymore. Ben obviously moved faster than any of them could and too fast for Will to stop him. Much to his surprise he grabs the man’s arm and pries his fingers from yours. You take a step back directly into Frankie and he holds you before you stumble. 

  Joel comes up to you, caging you in between him and Frankie and you’re suddenly less concerned with your arm and more concerned at their close proximity to you. This would be a fantasy in any other circumstance but right now you wished you were anywhere else. 

  “You okay sweetheart, are you hurt?” He’s looking you over for any signs that you need help but he knows you’re used to it. Which is why he asked for help in the first place. You shouldn’t have to get used to treatment like this. 

  “I’m fine Joel, just Jim way too drunk again.” He leans in and places a soft kiss on your cheek and you can still feel the heat coming from Frankie as your back is pressed to his chest, his hands still idly placed on your hips. 

  Joel makes his way over to Ben who is all but grinning at the man who he has pinned to the table. He leans down and whispers something in the drunk man’s ear causing him to tense slightly. 

  “Ben, why don’t you help our friend find his way outside.” He yanks him up by his collar, not waiting for his footing to steady and all but drags him out of the bar. The entire display is a warning to any other patrons who think they’re going to continue this behavior in his establishment any longer. 

  Frankie releases you and silently curses himself for holding onto you for so long. You turn to face him and you can feel it again, that spark from earlier that threatens to ignite something inside you. He just stares at you for a moment and something is pulling him in, as dangerous as it is he can’t ignore it. 

  “Thanks Francisco.” Joel’s voice breaks you apart and you both jump back as if you had been caught doing something in the middle of the bar. You stumble around to the bar to attend to the people who’ve been waiting. 

  “Looks like you’re itching to start your job.” Joel crosses his arms and nods his chin at you already diligently working. 

  “I’m sorry…I just couldn’t sit by and watch.” Frankie doesn’t know what to do with his hands as he fiddles with the hem of his flannel. This is the closest he’s been to Joel and he can see the age lines and the soft curls, he can see why you’re so taken with him. He leans in close so that only Frankie can hear.

  “No need to apologize…it’s why I picked you after all.” Joel walks to the front of the stage  and Frankie can still feel his hot breath ghosting over his neck. 

  “Last call folks, I hope you enjoyed your night.” He walks over to you planting a kiss on your temple before retreating to his office for the night. 

  They finish their beers as they watch the people file out, staying to make sure you don't have any problems. You insisted they head up since Joel wouldn’t be working late tonight, unfortunately for Frankie you wouldn’t need a personal escort but he would have his chance soon. 

  ****

  You collapse into Joel, both of you trying to catch your breath after he somehow managed to pull 3 orgasms out of you. Something was up with him tonight and quite frankly had been all day. You really should get up but lying on his chest feeling the rise and fall as his breath evens out is starting to lull you to sleep. He’s humming some tune he always does after sex while he trails his fingers up and down your sweaty back. 

  “Sorry if I was too rough Shine.” You pepper kisses along his chest as you try to see his face in the dark room only lit by the moon. You can see his brow furrowed in deep concentration. The complete opposite of what it should be in this moment. You draw your thumb across his forehead to smooth it out causing a low chuckle from him. 

  “You could never be too rough with me.” You trace the line of his bicep with your finger down his arm before interlocking yours with his. 

  “I was wondering what got into you today though? This morning when I met the guys you were acting strange.” He huffs and ponders his words as he continues to lightly rub you. 

  “It was just a lot of testosterone in the room and maybe I got a little carried away…it won’t happen again.” You know he cares for you so deeply and it was honestly harmless but you don’t want anything worrying him more than what he already has to deal with. 

  “But since we’re on the subject…I could ask you the same thing.” You tense slightly just enough for him to notice and you think this is it, you’ve been caught. You don’t want to be the reason they’re all out of a job. 

  “No need to worry sugar, he’s real pretty.” 

  “I promise I was not” He grabs your chin and tilts it up to face him.

  “Don’t lie to me.” That was your one rule, never lie. You gather your thoughts for a moment to weigh your options. You have to be honest with him, and you haven’t actually done anything wrong, not yet at least. 

  “Yes…he’s very handsome but they all are.” He smiles so wicked you could see it in the dark. 

  “You don’t really care for the others though…it’s not wrong to notice.” You’ve only been with Joel and you’re not sure why he’s being so calm about this whole thing. 

  He rolls you off him so he’s on top of you, supporting his weight on his elbows. He dips his head down ghosting his lips over yours and you can feel him slowly getting aroused again. He kisses you soft and sweet, he always takes his time as he pulls away from you taking your bottom lip between his teeth. A simple kiss from him could leave you so breathless. 

  “All I’m sayin is… you’re young and there’s enough love in your heart for more than one person.” I guess you’ll have to read between the lines. Either way it seems you both have other plans for Francisco. 

Next

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated.

@fishingforpike @christinamadsen @theywhowriteandknowthings

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Melt

"And if I die because you made me melt, oh well."

Summary: You and Frankie spend a hot summer day by the pool

Word Count: 1.8K

Pairing: Husband!Frankie Morales x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, semi-public shenanigans (we're assuming there's a big, tall fence around the pool lmao), Frankie being our 🐱 eating king, Frankie being the sweetest and so obsessed with you, poor Pope probably needs to clean his pool after these two leave, reader wears a bathing suit, can swim and can get sunburned

A/N: HEY HOMIES, IT'S YA GIRL!!!!! What better way to celebrate National Catfish Day than with a lil poolside Frankie 🤪 It has been hotter than Satan's ballsack out here in the midwest, so this song is dedicated to this ongoing heatwave and this song that I am absolutely obsessed with and is SO Frankie coded 😭 This is the first thing that I have worked on since May so apologies in advance for bein' a little rusty, but I'm excited to finally be back on the writing train again!!! ily all, big forehead kisses for each of you MWAH!!!! 🥹 poorly beta'd bc that's how i roll

Love it or hate it, if there was one thing that you could always count on, it was the fact that summers in south Florida were hot. 

Really fucking hot. 

So when Pope had offered up his pool for you and Frankie to use while he was out of town for the week, it was a no brainer that the two of you had ecstatically accepted his invitation. 

“We really owe Pope for this one, huh?” You smirked, setting down your beach bag on one of the lounge chairs spread across the pool deck, pulling out some sunscreen and towels for you and Frankie. 

“Yeah, I guess we do.” Frankie sighed, nodding his head in agreement, admiring the crystal blue water sparkling in the heat of the hot summer sun, hands on his hips as he looked out over the pool. 

You couldn’t help but giggle as you stood behind him, secretly whipping out your phone to take a picture of Frankie inspecting the pool before quickly texting it to Pope, knowing what a kick he’d get out of it. 

You: Thanks for letting us use the pool! New pool boy is taking his job very seriously. 🫡

Pope: Haha. Would have looked better if he showed up in a bikini. Have fun u 2. 

“What are you laughing at?” Frankie asked, turning around to the sounds of your sneaky snickers before feeling his own phone buzz in his pocket, looking down to see a text from Pope. 

Pope: Your wife thinks you’d make a good pool boy. Told her you need a bikini first. Have fun with Mrs. Fish today.

Pope: Not too much fun though. 🤨

Frankie: Sorry to disappoint. 

Frankie: What’s that supposed to mean? 

Pope: I just cleaned the pool before I left. Don’t need any baby fish swimming around in there if you know what I mean 🐟 💦 lol

Frankie: Jesus christ, Pope.

Frankie shook his head as he slipped his phone back into his pocket as he made his way over to you, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you closer to his chest. 

“You think I’d make a good pool boy, huh?” He smirked, planting a chaste kiss in your lips as the two of you laughed. 

“The best. But only if you give me another kiss and put some sunscreen on me so I don’t turn into a lobster.” You teased, kissing him right back before pulling away to grab the sunscreen bottle, passing it off to him. 

“Fair enough.” 

As he took the bottle from you, starting to shake it up, Frankie couldn’t help stop and watch in awe as you began to remove your coverup. Underneath, it revealed the little, strappy, bright yellow bikini you had just bought, deciding that today would be a good choice to show it off for the first time with just you and your husband together. 

“Fuck me…” Frankie whispered under his breath, his tongue darting out of his mouth and swiping over his bottom lip as he looked you up and down, admiring every sun-kissed inch of your soft skin and the way the fabric of your swimsuit hugged your curves. “Is this- fuck, is this new?” he asked softly, his sweet brown eyes just about popping out of his head, trying to use every ounce of self composure to even form a coherent question. 

“Do you like it? I got it a few days ago when I was out. Figured I could use a new one.” You blushed, biting down on your lip at Frankie’s reaction, wondering how in the world he still managed to make you feel as beautiful as he did the first night he’d met you after all your time spent together. 

“Can I show you?” Frankie asked, running his hands along your waist, gently toying with the strings holding your swimsuit bottoms together. 

“Show me what?” 

“Show you how much I like it?” He responded, his voice sending a shiver down your spine as his fingers slowly began to undo the bow tied around your hips while he gently nipped at your neck, making your stomach swell with arousal. 

“Mhmmmmmm.” You nodded, carefully backing up until your legs hit the lounge chair behind you, Frankie gently guiding you to sit down and lay back while he nestled himself between your legs, draping each one over his bare, broad shoulders, his tanned and freckled skin glowing in the blazing afternoon sun. 

Frankie wasted no time planting soft kisses up the inside of your thighs, the familiar scratch of his beard and mustache against your skin making you moan in eager anticipation as you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your swimsuit bottoms. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that? I’m so lucky.” He whispered between kisses along the meat of your thighs before stopping at your core, letting his fingers brush against the fabric of your swimsuit, sneaking under the material just enough to feel how wet you had already become in the few short moments since you had sat down. 

“Seems like you're pretty wet for not even getting in the pool yet, Hermosa.” Frankie teased, the ghosting of his fingers along your cunt making you whine as you propped your head up to see the devilish smirk between his cheeks. 

Almost painfully slowly, Frankie untied the first, then second bow holding your bottoms together on each hip, watching your swimsuit fall to the ground, revealing your pussy, slick and puffy, worked up from Frankie’s touch. 

“So pretty…” He cooed, letting his fingers drag across your cunt, collecting your arousal and rubbing at your clit, already aching to be touched. 

Frankie was nothing if not a methodical man, memorizing every twitch and hitched breath beneath his touch, learning all the things that absolutely drove you wild.

Knowing that he could be the only one to make you feel this good got him off more than anything else ever could.

He couldn’t help but grin at the way your lips fell to a perfectly parted “O” as he pressed more pressure against your sensitive nub, and how they fell even wider as he pressed two of his fingers into your entrance, gently curling them to bump against the soft, spongy spot inside you that had you clenching around his hand. 

“Oh Frankie… Fuck…” You whimpered, your head falling back as Frankie’s fingers were soon followed by his tongue, licking a long, broad strip across your cunt, ​​putting just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers worked in tandem to make that all too familiar sweet tingling sensation to start build in your stomach. 

Frankie’s tongue danced in a swirling pattern of flicks and strokes between your folds as he lapped you up. You could feel yourself rolling your hips against his hand, whining at how thick and full he felt inside you with just his fingers. That, combined with the meticulous and skilled motions of his tongue had the coil in your belly beginning to tighten further and further. 

Your hand shot down between your parted legs, reaching to grab a fistful of Frankie’s brown, curly locks, thick and sweaty from the heat, tugging just hard enough to force his gaze up towards you, your eyes locking with his rich, brown ones. 

“F-Frankie-” Was all you were able to mutter as he continued with his fingers to press against your g-spot, slick coating his digits with each stroke. He licked one more strip along your pussy before placing soft kisses on your clit and the inside of your thighs, peeking up at you with a boyish grin. 

“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. Wanna taste you all over me.” Frankie moaned, the low rumble of his words making your breath hitch in the back of your throat as he dove back between your legs, wrapping his free arm around one of your thighs, firmly holding you in place. 

Curving his fingers ever so slightly and latching his lips around your clit, you knew it was only a matter of moments before Frankie was about to make you fall apart completely. You could feel your legs begin to tremble as your cunt clenched tighter around his fingers, able to utter nothing but a “F-fuck…” as you felt your orgasm rip through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins and soaked Frankie below you. 

Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum for him with everything that you had in you, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become. Your pussy was slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the way Frankie had fucked you senseless with just his tongue. 

“Frankie, holy fuck.” You whispered under your breath, still trying to regain your composure as you looked down at a satisfied Frankie, wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand with a smirk. 

“Always taste so sweet, Hermosa. You’re so fucking hot, I swear you’d make me melt faster than the sun.” 

The two of you both couldn’t help but snort at Frankie’s cheesy comment, sitting up as you giggled to grab Frankie’s face and bring him in for a long, deep kiss, the taste of you still fresh on his tongue. 

“You are such a cheeseball, Fransisco Morales. I can’t believe that- Frankie! Frankie! Put me down! No, no, no, no, you better not-” But before you could finish the rest of your sentence, Frankie had already picked you up out of your chair, flung you over his shoulder and had you flailing your arms and legs as he carried you towards the edge of the pool, jumping in with you mid-way through your poorly fought protest. 

Your heads bobbed to the surface, still in a fit of laughter as you floated in the refreshing cool of the sparkling pool water, you wrapped your legs around Frankie’s waist, draping your arms over his shoulders while he pulled you closer to his chest. 

“Sorry, mi amor, what were you saying?” Frankie teased, raising a playful eyebrow at you as he grinned with his goofy smile, making you over dramatically roll your eyes at him. 

“One, that you are the biggest goof I’ve ever met and I love you for it,” You snickered, plating a soft kiss on his plush lips, “and two, I think I can practically hear Pope screaming at you for the fact I’m half naked in his pool.” 

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”   

Taglist

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@bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog @samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring

@itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[hellishjoel]

slow shift

7k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader

Series Masterlist l Next Chapter

series summary: Tommy’s Diner is where dreams go to die and burnouts clock-in for work. Waitressing would be boring without the flirtatious distractions of line cook Frankie Morales.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), swearing, talking about w33d, alcohol consumption (not by reader or frankie, but discussions of alcohol), oral (f! receiving), discussions of periods and Plan B, frankie having a fat d!ick, slightly public sex, unprotected p in v (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), you know how I roll

A/N: welcome to the first part in my linecook!frankie series! It's all just going to be chaos!! enjoy dirty dishes, cussing, and decent food made by the hot linecooks. I’ll have a title as soon as I stop putting it off <3 enjoy! let me know what you think! also how LIT is the banner

here's my masterlist!

**follow hellishfics and turn on notifications get updates on my fic postings**

“Don’t-- mm -- don’t have a lot of time, Francisco.” You teased for dominance, using his full name made him muster up a dirty chuckle.  You were ready to turn around and have him fuck you into the wall, but his hand snagged your wrist, and he stopped you. Confusion screwed into your face. Then his mouth muttered the most filthy thing you had heard yet from him. “Wanna see that pretty face when I fuck you.” He muttered, your body slumping into his. Fuck it, you were Frankie Morales’ tonight. 

Welcome to hell. 

A makeshift building somehow still holding up four walls that housed a small restaurant inside. 

This wasn’t some secret treasure that belonged on an episode of Diners, Drive-Ins, & Dives or a hidden hole-in-the-wall five-star Michelin Restaurant. This was Tommy’s Diner. 

The locals had different names for the run-down dump you called your place of employment: the Hometown Heartburn Hut (true), American Pie ( ha-ha funny), the Rusty Spoon (some guy OD’s behind the place one time, and no one ever forgets), or Tumbleweed, your pothead coworkers liked to call it. It was a tumbleweed because the restaurant was barren, emphasis on the weed to accommodate the faded line cooks that lurked in the back of the restaurant. 

Don’t let today’s slow shift fool you; there were times when Tumbleweed was cram-packed. Friday night football games were busy with tailgaters, bustling with teens after a championship game. Other times, it was when a Greyhound bus or a similar cross-country vehicle drove through and took a stop for the passengers. 

The most popular time of year was in the summer. Tommy’s Diner hosted Saturday night Cruise Nights. The town would flood with classic cars and hot rods, and the diner would transform into a drive-in. Their engines revved through different cities from far and wide to be at Tommy’s. That’s when the place felt the most alive, bustling with people and their laughter, little kids running with their milkshakes and flipping quarters into the rigged claw machine. 

But it wasn’t a Saturday in August. It was a Monday. You were stuck with the misfit motley crew that did everything from dishwashing, cooking, bussing, running the register, being half-ass managers, and, of course, the token pretty waitress. You. 

You will admit that each character working at Tumbleweed had a unique story etched into their grubby hands or baggy-eyed faces. They’ve weathered years of late-night shifts and condiment, grease-stained aprons. 

Tonight there was Lou, the jaded by heartbreak teenage busboy. He walked with a shuffle, always sniffling about an ex-girlfriend. He worked slow and god damn, did that piss you off. 

Then there was Tina, the aspiring singer stuck in a small-town type. She was newer, still learning how things worked since she had never waited tables a day in her life. She had that fresh twinkle of stardom in her eye despite being in her late 30’s. You were training her and trying not to let her drive you up the wall whenever she started singing different songs on the jukebox. Note to self: Put a sticky note saying it’s busted every time you work together. 

Paul was the do-it-all guy. Toilet clogged? Get Paul. Dishes piling up? Ask Paul to do it. The cashier on a bathroom break? Paul can run the till. He was useful, just complained and grumbled a lot. 

Tommy of Tommy’s Diner hasn’t worked a day in years. He’s older, so it’s understandable. Last thing you heard was he was down in Florida, living out retirement in a cheap home with a gambling addiction. Sounded like he was doing well for himself.  But now his idiot son Rudy ran the place. Tommy’s picture was still on dusty display, toothy smile and all at the front door that people huddled in and out of—speaking of. 

Your head lifted to attention as the bell above the door chimed, sighing in annoyance as you leaned back onto the counter. It was just Frankie. 

“It’s fifteen after. You were supposed to be here on time today because we have to set up for Carla’s thing.”

Frankie breezed past you, aviators and stupid ballcap on, his smile lifted in a sneer. He was smacking on pink bubble gum as he neared your part of the counter and purposely shuffled past you with his hips against yours in an attempt to get into the kitchen. You couldn’t help but lean into him with a little smirk. 

“Tommy said it was fine I was late.” He joked once he ducked into the back, your arms crossed as you followed him aimlessly. 

You sigh and lean back against the locker next to his, watching him shuffle off his jacket.

“You disappoint me, Frankie.” Your face held a teasing pout. 

“Never meet your heroes, baby.” That stupid fucking cocky smirk painted his face. 

You opted to roll your eyes and look away as a defense tactic against Frankie’s flirty moves. Frankie calling you baby made your guts twist. 

He was an ass ninety-nine percent of the time, but you two were hired the same summer a few years back and were the only ones who stayed once summer had run its course. You supposed it was bonded trauma after that. 

New workers had come and gone, but you and Frankie were still at Tommy’s, still working crappy shifts on crappy hourly pay. Despite Frankie being a douchebag, he made the place bearable. He was comfortable. You knew each other. 

“Can you just meet me on the floor like you were supposed to fifteen minutes ago and help with the banner? Carla’s going to be here at five, and you still have to make her special-”

“Jesus fuckin’- yes, I’ll be out in a few.” Frankie playfully groaned, shoving the brim of his hat into his mouth to hold it, his hands busy as he tied a tattered red bandana around his forehead before he replaced the cap back on. Okay… hot. 

He took a deep breath once he finished, and leaned against the locker beside you, arms crossed, mimicking you as your shoulder brushed his bicep. You looked up at him, so many inches taller than you, as he looked down. Maybe too far down. He started at your eyes, but those eyes of his tended to wander right down to the cut of your shirt.

“Ugh- Frankie!” You rolled your eyes and pushed him away, readjusting your top as he playfully threw his hands up on the defense. 

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous today, by the way!” He shouted as you exited the locker room, smiling and shaking your head with your back to him and throwing up your middle finger before the door swung closed with your exit. 

---

You stood on the top of a dining table in your sneakers, attempting to hang a shitty banner you had painted for Carla’s birthday. You glanced down at the table and made a little face about the scuff you put in it. Oops. You can try and scrub it later. 

There was no other person you or Frankie would do this stuff for. But it was Carla’s birthday and she was a diamond in the rough at this dump. 

Carla's position at Tumbleweed is a mixture of human resources, accounting, decent management, and a mother figure to not just you but the entire staff. Besides Carla, we could all care less about everyone else's birthday. You were burning this ‘Happy Birthday!’ banner as soon as the clock struck midnight. 

You let out an exhausted huff as you attempted to tack the final hanging string into the wall, but it was just out of reach. That’s when you heard the smacking of his stupid pink bubble gum. You didn’t even have to look. 

“Are you gonna help me or not, Morales?” Your voice seethed in annoyance, not only to Frankie but also cursing your short legs and your just not long enough arms. 

He didn’t say anything. Just crossed the differential space between you and took the tack and string into his meaty fingers. 

You glanced down, watching his teeth capture his lower lip in concentration, checking to see if it was straight. Pushing the pin in, he backed up to where you stood on the dining table and crossed his arms in observance. 

It was incredibly crooked. But it was the thought that counts, right?

“Good enough for me. You?” You glanced down at Frankie, and he was biting back a smile. 

“What?” You pushed, narrowing your eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good.” Distracted by something else. “D’you paint this?” The warmth of his hand slowly crept onto the back of your calf, your chest tightening as he slowly skated it higher with no interference from you. 

You gently nod, avoiding his eye contact as you look at the sign. Now, his hand was on the back of your thigh, and you had to take a breath. A mhm was all you could muster up. 

His fingers delicately skimmed the skirt of your uniform, knuckles brushing against your backside. You used to hate these 50’s style waitress uniforms, but now they didn’t seem so damn bad because Frankie’s movements were making you lightheaded. Snap out of it!

“Need help down?” Frankie asked, hand at the ready on your hip. 

You shook your head despite using his assistance anyway. You squatted on the table, black lace panties peeking out as you used Frankie’s broad shoulders as leverage. You put one foot down onto the linoleum and then the other, wiping your hands cleanly down your uniform as you both returned to look at the lopsided sign. 

You hoped it was enough. You hoped she appreciated it, especially all that she’s done for you over the years. Covering your shifts, leveling out the register when you accidentally gave someone the wrong change, tucking extra tips into your apron when she knew your rent was coming up. Everyone needed a Carla, not everyone was lucky to have one. 

“She’s gonna love it,” Frankie seemed to sense your nerves as he lifted his cap to bring some air to his sweaty dark curls before putting it back into place. “I’ll start workin’ on her special. Mushroom Swiss patty melt?” He said before disappearing into the kitchen again, only leaving once you gave him your little nod of assurance. You liked that he remembered.

---

“Happy birthday, Carla!” Uncoordinated voices cheered as Carla entered Tumbleweed right on time for her shift. 

Her face lit up, and she looked beautiful. She packed a little extra blush and eyeshadow to commemorate the special occasion. 

“Oh, shit- oh my- You guys! Thank you!” Carla made special eye contact with you, knowing you were the only one caring enough to orchestrate this shindig. 

Carla has this soulful charm about her. Raised in Louisiana, she loved to cook family recipes and bring the leftovers to work for you and Frankie to fight over. You remember she had three kids at home, so she had this curvy mom's body that put a proud sway in her walk. A playful and confident woman at heart, she was all the regular’s favorite to see. And she knew everyone. And she knew everything. She put Tommy’s back in business during the slower seasons. People would come to see her face on Sunday mornings over their coffee and runny eggs. 

“Oh, baby, thank you.” She cooed as she cupped your cheek and squeezed, making your face tick. “This the red velvet?” Her voice hummed as she observed the cake in your hands, pushing her finger lightly into the frosting to taste it. 

You had pulled one of the cakes from the display case and shitily piped it with chocolate sauce ‘HBD!’. 

“Of course, your favorite... Right?” You pursed your lips and snuck a nervous glance at Frankie before you set the cake down on the countertop. 

Carla looked beyond touched for something you’d consider a bit lackluster. “It’s my favorite ‘cause you made it. Thank you, baby.” 

You glanced around for the cake cutter, watching as Tina pushed a quarter into the jukebox and got the party started. Everyone was doing shitty dance moves, even the one or two customers that had filtered in for a cheap dinner. 

You sighed as you looked behind the counter for the cake cutter, grabbing the cake and its stand to haul it to the back. 

You thrust your shoulder blades into the swinging door, setting the cake stand on the counter as you started sifting through the different drawers to find the serving knife. 

Half a carton filled with cigarettes; Frankie’s. Matches from an old jazzy gentleman’s club; Rudy’s. Hair ties; yours. Where’s the fuckin’ cake cutter?!

The music from the jukebox was more faded in the kitchen. The serving window, professionally called the pass, was just big enough to see faces and hand plates through from the kitchen to the front. 

You made a face when you found the cake server inside a  large pot-- how, no, why? Jesus Christ. Fucking idiots. 

The swinging door to the kitchen wooshed in before slowly creaking closed, seeing Frankie coming to stand beside you in your peripheral. 

You carefully plunged the slicer into the soft sponge of the cake, carving a piece for Carla and setting it on a plate. You reached forward across the counter for another small plate, the short skirt of your uniform revealing the curve of your ass to an overly curious Frankie. You could feel his heat burning through his chest. 

“Could you be less obvious?” Your voice held teasing notes, putting another piece of cake on a plate and pushing them away to make space for more. 

He had tried this a handful of times with you, and he had yet to be successful besides that one time when you both drunkenly made out at the last December holiday party. You were pretty sure he had been hung up on you ever since. You enjoyed watching him try. 

Your eyes flitted over to his, observing his body and facial features. 

He looked gross, honestly. The two meals he cooked including Carla’s special before she came in for her shift made his face and neck sweaty and his hands greasy, his apron to match. It was white at one time, a long, long time ago. His stupid red bandana was still tied around his forehead, catching the spare sweat droplets, as the kitchen became unbearably hot in the middle of August.

You probably didn’t look much better. Hair all over the place with makeup you put on in the morning probably half smudged off by now. Your hands were checkered in pen ink, a spare papercut from snagging a receipt from the register. But still decent. He was still decent. 

His hand was back in dangerous territory, lingering low on your waist. He didn’t care if anyone saw him. You could feel warmth flooding your body, heat from the heart of his hand burning into your hip. He was admiring your body, slow and appreciative as he cupped the curve of your ass. And then he squeezed. 

Your shaky hands barely got the fourth slice you cut onto a small serving plate. The cake cutter clattered onto the metal counter as Frankie shifted his body behind yours, his watchful eyes on the pass. No one was watching, stupid and oblivious. You swallowed a lump down your throat, your small hands clenching the rim of the counter. His hips were flushed against yours. Worst of all was that you really fucking liked it. 

“This okay?” You’re flattered he asked after the fact. 

You leaned back into his touch, quietly humming on the brink of a little moan. You were a little desperate for touch, maybe you’d be on your period soon. “Mhmm..”. 

Frankie was a douchebag, but you two have been flirting back and forth with one another for years like an ongoing tennis match. He was older, he had years on you. Not an obscenely amount, but enough to make people raise an eyebrow. You were surprised he had the balls to actually make a move on you like he was right now. 

��Like you in black.” Frankie’s voice was cut down to a murmur, low and all-enveloping. You weren’t sure if he was referring to the black in your waitress uniform or your black panties. Probably the latter. 

His fingers brushed past your goosebump-covered ass and slipped between your legs to your clothed pussy. You softly gasped, eyes shifting closed as your hips involuntarily leaned into Frankie’s touch. You didn’t look subtle at all. You looked like you wanted to be touched, manhandled, kissed, fucked… 

“Open your eyes, baby girl.” He purred, your chest already heaving. “Act normal.” You forced your eyes open, looking back at him with wide, innocent eyes. Needy pupils connected with his blown-out ones. The back of your head brushed his shoulder, setting it there for just a moment before he looked straight ahead. 

Frankie nodded back to the pass, your eyes following his eye line to everyone distractedly dancing and sipping coffee mixed with bourbon on the floor. 

You bit down on your lower lip, knuckles cast over in a milky white with the iron grip you held on the metal rim of the counter. Frankie’s body heat had disappeared from your back, and now you felt it cast against the back of your legs. You glanced around, seeing him on his knees behind you with his mouth now latched to the back of your thighs. Oh, fuck. His kisses sponged up higher, towards your heat. 

Your eyelashes fluttered, Frankie’s act normal echoing through your hollow head. With distracted hands, you resumed cutting the cake. You probably looked slow and stupid, but feeling his patchy beard hair nestle between the sweet skin of your inner thighs had you in a haze. 

Frankie’s big hands reached under your skirt, lining the black panties that sat snugly on your hips with his forefingers. He slowly peeled them down, feeling the material roll as he stopped them to rest halfway down on your thighs. 

Your shoulders shuddered as your warm pussy met the slight chill of the outside world, panties adorning a little soaked spot. 

“Frankie,” Mm? “Someone’s gonna see.” But you weren’t stopping him. You weren’t telling him to fuck off. You weren’t kicking him right in the gut like you probably could. In fact, you were leaning into him. 

“Such a pretty pussy... Can’t stop, baby.” 

A helpless whimper left your lips, thighs shaking at his affectionate, warm kisses. 

Frankie’s hand swatted at the inside of your right ankle and then the other, hinting for you to spread yourself for him. You pursed your lips and shakily sighed, parting your legs as your sneakers lightly squeaked on the checkered floor. Fuck me, Frankie. 

You didn’t know how much longer you could be patient. The waiting was tantric, hypnotizing you into seduction. 

Spread for him and dripping, Frankie’s mouth finally attached to your slit. Your knee lightly jerked up and smacked a bus tub filled with dirty dishes, a few eyes on you through the pass as you nervously laughed. “S-Sorry!” 

Frankie couldn’t help but let out a warm puff of laughter against your cunt, and you swore your insides were twisting at the sensation. 

“Easy pretty girl… Don’t need us gettin’ caught. You want me to stop?” Frankie’s voice was husky, warm palms spreading your thighs, your body lightly bending over to lean on the counter. You tried to look busy with something, stupidly polishing a random fork. With the extra exposure, he had full access to your sex. 

“Does it look like I want you to stop?” You finally punched out through air-abducted lungs, anxiously chewing on the skin of your lip. “Frankie.” You said in a hushed warning tone, wanting more and not knowing how to ask nicely for it. But that’s what he liked about you. You weren’t nice. 

His lips finally attached properly to your pussy, his devilish tongue lining the center of your cunt and flicking off your clit. Your head dropped, ears ringing at the sensation. 

You wondered how good he would feel if he could take his time instead of giving you head quick while all your coworkers were distracted.  Maybe he could run his thumb over the front of your panties, trace the seam of your pussy, and feel how soaked you were for him and his attentive fingers. You thought Frankie had always been so down bad for you. He probably dreamed about getting this opportunity. He finally got you when you were just as horny for someone with a pulse. But this wasn’t all the time in the world; this was a slow shift at Tommy’s. 

You rut your hips back into Frankie’s face, hot pants fanning fog onto the cool metal of the counter. 

Frankie put his mouth where you needed him most, his tongue dedicating a poem to you. He flattened his tongue and licked a wide, wet strip up through your core, taking in all your juices. His tongue lapped at your weeping hole, thighs shaking against his head as you stifled a moan into the counter. 

He was good, manipulative, a fucking menace. 

Frankie’s tongue made precision flicks against your bundle of nerves, a gasp a bit too loud leaving the kitchen as you whimpered broken fragments of his name. 

You weakly looked up, seeing Tina pluck another quarter in the jukebox, cranking the volume to some seventies soul music. Fuck being quiet. 

Concealed by the groove of Stevie Wonder singing We Can Work It Out, your moans were hidden by the shake of a tambourine and plucks to an electric guitar. 

“Goddammit, Frankie, mmm, so fucking good,” a gasp and a moan followed suit, lazily smirking with your eyes closed. “So fucking… hot.” You murmured. 

Frankie’s mouth was a welcome wonder, dedicated to making you cum. He was swirling his tongue around your clit, weakly flattening your front over the counter again and pressing your cheek against the cool metal. Don’t be a douche right now, Francisco Morales. Make me fuckin’ cum. 

The kitchen door swiftly swung open, and your body flew up to stand straight as Carla waited in the doorway. 

“What’s taking you so long to cut my cake, baby? I know that bitch is stale as hell, but that don’t mean I don’t want it.” 

Your eyes were wide, lips parted in an attempt to speak, but Frankie’s movements didn’t cease despite Carla’s unexpected intrusion.  You bit back a whimper as he lined his tongue just barely into the tight entrance of your walls, his greedy fingers piercing into the flesh of your thighs to keep you spread. Thank god the counter covered your waist down. 

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll be out in a sec.” 

Carla looked you up and down, curious but ultimately not giving a damn. You could feel Frankie’s dirty smirk against your thighs. 

“Alright... Hurry up. I’m tryna get my dessert.” 

And with that, the door swished closed, and your back slumped at the relief. 

Frankie’s unexpected voice made you jump lightly, his words echoing against you. “Gotta make ya finish fast, princess. Want my dessert, too.” 

You whimpered but willed yourself to stand up straight and turn around to face him. He looked like a mess. Lust-filled black eyes and a cocky smirk to match. Your juices glistened on his lips and chin. Frankie would be incredibly hot if he knew how to keep his mouth shut. 

“Taste as good as you look, princess.” Frankie stood up, tall and broad body making a white hot spot form in your stomach. Fuck,  you couldn’t do this right now. Not right here. 

He could tell. He took a few cautious steps away, you watched him carefully like a rattlesnake. He knew when not to push you and when to let you make the decisions. He also knew how to give you orders when you were too pussy fucked to think straight. 

“Serve that cake and meet me out back.” He was looking over you, enjoying the few times you looked totally fucked like you did right now. He stepped back into your space and pulled your panties back into place, a sobby whimper leaving your lips as he gently cupped your aching mound with a smirk. “So fuckin’ needy, huh?” 

“Fuck off.” You mumbled, fixing the bottom half of your uniform. 

You watch as Frankie grabs the beer bottle you all used as a makeshift door prop and his half-carton of cigarettes you had brought out of a drawer in an attempt to find the cake cutter. He disappears out back into the alley. Shit, the cake. 

You hurriedly sliced the remainder of the cake, placing a few stray candles into the slices. You lit them once you greeted the group waiting on the floor, singing a shitty rendition of Happy Birthday.  Paul lights his cigarette from one of the candles, puffing smoke across the frosting. 

The crowd hastily grabbed one of the small plates and a fork. Most of you only tried a bite or two. The cake had been in the display case for far too long. 

---

Anxious and impatient, you slip into the back with everyone’s dirty dishes and sneak back into the kitchen. You do nothing more with them than chuck them into the sink for Lou to wash up at some point or another. Your eyes stare at the beer bottle keeping the back kitchen door ajar. You take in a deep breath, leaving a shaky sigh before following Frankie out into the alley. 

The air was warm, a welcome breeze passing over you. The alley was everyone’s hideaway, littered with crushed beer and soda cans, two large garbage dumpsters, and a large one for recycling. You could see the highway in the distance. The sun was setting, and the sky was turning purple and blue. You’d watch those cars drive right past your little town, paying no mind, probably off going to somewhere bigger and better. The only people from the highway who stopped to visit Tommy’s were people who didn’t know any better. 

A flick of a lighter crackled, dividing your attention. Frankie was smoking his cigarette, his back leaning against the brick wall of the diner. He was trying not to smirk. Seeing you out here was way too much power for him. He took a drag, the end of his cigarette lighting up in a glowing orange haze before he pulled it from his mouth. The smoke he exhaled was taken by the breeze. 

“Happy to see me?” His goading tone asked.

“No.” A challenge. A pause. 

“So, you want me to go back inside?” 

“No.” Another beat. A step closer to him, arms crossed. He’s smart enough to let his cigarette land on the ground. 

“So, you want me to stay out here?”

Silence. Staring. Gauging each other’s reactions. Your tight jaw meets his cocky smirk. Too stubborn to ask meeting too stubborn to give without begging. Fuck. 

Maybe it’s because you’re both desperate. Maybe because Frankie knows you. Knows you’re too stubborn to ask for him to fulfill your needs. Your inaction meets his unwillingness to waste another moment that he could be inside of you. 

Stomping on his cigarette before closing the distance between you two, he envelopes you in a kiss that robs you of your breath. He tastes musky and bitter. The smoke that recently captured his lungs was hot on your lips. 

Your heart was beating with excitement, happy to lose control for a moment as Frankie walked you blindly backward into the brick wall. Ouch. 

Your tongues danced in a rhythmic motion, seducing you into letting him take the power as the kiss deepened. The flavor was subtle but distinct. The Marlboro’s held an acrid undertone, an unexpected layer of the kiss you sort of liked. If he tasted like spearmint gum, it might have turned you off. 

It was like you were his cigarette now, breathing you in and clinging to you in addiction. It was his bad habit, but who were you to judge. You had a closet full of skeletons you weren’t open to anyone seeing. Maybe this was one of his. 

His hands were a welcome guest, feeling his warm palms explore a body he had probably fantasized about. 

“Don’t-- mm -- don’t have a lot of time, Francisco.” You teased for dominance, using his full name made him muster up a dirty chuckle. 

You were ready to turn around and have him fuck you into the wall, but his hand snagged your wrist, and he stopped you. Confusion screwed into your face. Then his mouth muttered the most filthy thing you had heard yet from him. “Wanna see that pretty face when I fuck you.” He muttered, your body slumping into his. Fuck it, you were Frankie Morales’ tonight. 

Frankie guided you further from the backdoor, hearing voices enter the kitchen. Probably Paul and Lou to start working on closing chores. He took you behind the dumpsters and hiked up your dress. You decided to be useful and push your panties down. He rounded up the material that was tying you up at your ankles and shoved them into his pocket. You were not letting him keep those. 

You pushed his apron aside, fingers fussing over his belt buckle. He watched, amused, unwilling to help. He liked seeing you so desperate for his cock. Unbuttoned. Unzippered. Black boxer trim peaking out now. You made slight eye contact with him before you shoved his pants and boxers down to his thighs. Your heart clenches at how girthy he was. Fuckkk, this was gonna feel good. 

He didn’t take his apron off, merely shoved it to the side as it haphazardly swayed on his hip. He closed the distance between you again, a greedy kiss, a kiss to mark you with. You pulled away to spit into your hand, taking him by his base and squeezing. 

Frankie’s eyes shuddered closed, his head dropping as you took his manhood in the small of your hand. He was.. more than a handful. He was so meaty, not even able to wrap your fist fully around him. 

You purred out a little moan as you worked your hand over him, feeling him grow heavy in your hand as you lubed up his tip, slowly circling your thumb teasingly around the pulsing head. 

“Enough.” He muttered. He didn’t like you toying with him. 

Frankie hiked up your leg by the underside of your calf, hooking around his hip as you leaned your back against the cold brick wall. It wasn’t comfy, but when you fuck against a run-down diner, you don’t get many options. 

Your chest shuddered as you felt his cock heavy against your folds, erect and brushing up against where you needed him most. He was running his hand up and down himself now. You watched as he put down another line of spit from his mouth to his cock before his knuckles shuffled up and down his shaft a few more times. 

The sight made you reel your head back and stare up at the sky. As eager as you are, you’re worried about feeling how thick he is. He knows. 

“M’gonna go real slow.” He punches out, setting his forehead down against yours, and you shakily nod. Please don’t fucking split me in two, Frankie Morales. You still have a shift to finish, after all. You’re thankful he at least acknowledges his girth. It’s sort of the elephant in the room. 

You both look down at your centers, your dripping one and his angry, pink head meeting in unison. It’s sort of fucked up the way that you’re two horrible people. But you knew horrible people always seemed to find each other.  

You wet your lips and bite down. Hard. You weren’t a fresh spring virgin, but this wasn’t any other half-decent dick. 

You lay your head back against the wall as Frankie guides himself into your welcoming entrance. Your wetness lubes him up well, but he’s still large. 

You clench your eyes close and smile. The pain is always pleasure. “Fuck,” you mutter, your head wanting to come back down and watch. 

Frankie’s being gentle, an odd word you’d never describe him as. He’s grunting and impatient, but patient for you. He fills you up to the brim and your head is flooded with clouds. You’re in the sky, lightheaded, but so fucking horny. 

His hips meeting yours are a gentle greeting, both of your lips brushing as you shared pants of desperation as well as relief. Your stomach was tight, recoiling with the pressure he was providing to the inside of your walls.

“God-

“Jesus-

“-fucking damn.”

“Christ.” 

The two of you moaned in unison. 

Your nails are piercing into his shirt, bunching around the tops of his shoulders. You move to grip his apron for some sort of control. There is none. 

One of his hands is still supporting your leg wrapped around his hip, the other flattened against the brick wall beside your head. You took solace in his arm, resting your forehead against it weakly. 

He was cocky for a reason. His length in inches was his amount of reasons. 

“Fuck me.” You finally mustered up enough strength to demand. He shakes his head against yours. 

“Give it a minute.” He mutters, barely coherent. You’re scrumptiously tight around him, and you know it. You both do. 

“We don’t have a minute.” You feverishly bite back, attempting to shift your hips against his. He retaliates by planting his hips against you, fucking the final few inches of his dick into you as you both fell deeper into the wall. 

A hot moan rolled off your tongue, hiding your face away in his forearm and shuddering your eyes closed. Frankie’s hand slipped from your leg, cupping the globe of your ass in his warm hand. He squeezed and it made you smile as he reeled his hips slowly back. 

He grumbles something. 

“What?” You asked with a dopey grin. He pushes back inside you and wipes the smirk clear off your face. 

“I said… you’re so fuckin’ impatient.” His voice was tattered with grunts, your tight little pussy making it hard for him to breath. 

Now he was creating a rhythm, fucking you into the wall in steady thrusts. You were already feeling your insides tug eagerly in excitement, the hot pool he had created in your guts simmering to a boil. 

“Mhmm, mhm, mhm,” you moaned in silent begs, moans you had to read between the lines to understand. Fuck me, fuck me harder, fuck you feel good, I-I can’t think of anything other than fuck! Fuck me, Frankie!

He filled you up to a brim you had yet to discover you had. His tip tickled your cervix with each snap of his hips. He was getting greedy, a little sloppy. You’d judge him on this short-lived fuck later, for now, it was perfectly timed to get back into work without anyone noticing. 

Your eyes widened and met his murky brown ones as he moved the hand he had against the wall nudged between your thighs, circling your clit. It was messy at first, but he found what made you tick and adjusted. Now he was running tight circles around you, and you were finding it hard to stay silent. 

“Feel so fuckin’ perfect for me.” He murmured, his lips ghosting over yours in a teasing motion. You actually wanted to taste him again, so you leaned into it, your tongue lining his mouth and tasting his old cigarette with a moan. 

Now he was filling you up, no hesitancy in his hips as he snapped the full extent of his length into your cunt. Your head flew back against the orange and red brick, a fucked moan leaving your mouth. Neither of you cared. Frankie’s face was nuzzled against your jawline and neck, sloppy kisses tasting old perfume as the circles on your clit intensified your impending orgasm. 

“F-Fuck, Frankie, shit, I’m gonna-” You gasped and closed your eyes, clutching your arms weakly around his shoulders and holding him to you. His body enveloped you like a shield protecting you from anything in your surroundings. 

Your orgasm crashed over you, coursing through your body like a million volts of electricity as you whimpered and moaned into his neck. Your eyes were clamped closed, your walls clenching and fluttering around his sensitive cock. 

His moans were heavenly, guttural and deep, a little shaky even as he puffed them into your neck and shoulder. His hips twitched against the inside of your thighs as he came undone inside of you. It felt like he was cumming for days, filling you up with white rope after white rope of his semen and painting your insides with only remnants of him. 

You couldn’t think. You just focused on the distant sound of the highway, creating a bustling amount of white noise for you. You gently held his head to keep him close, your shaky hand winding into his hair as the two of you reconciled over your orgasms. 

He was the first one to move. He slipped himself from you and gave you a few lazy kisses. Your stomach fluttered before you shook your head.

Stop it, Frankie. 

‘M not doin’ anything. 

Teasing smiles. Hands softening their holds on each other’s bodies. Fixing hair. Fixing undergarments. 

He would have held onto your panties. He probably hoped you forgot about them. You tugged them from his pocket and attempted to slip into them with ease, but you ended up having to use the brick wall as a support to lean into. 

You steadied his apron straight, and he pulled the skirt of your uniform down. Teamwork. 

You don’t really talk, just clean yourselves up, nod, and dart back inside before anyone can really notice or give a damn that you were missing in action. You kept having to excuse yourself to the bathroom, feeling Frankie still seeping from you. It made your chest hot, an embarrassed smile on your face. 

Fuck it. That’s what Plan B is for. Or you can just wait to see if you get your period in a few days time. 

---

You and Frankie danced around one another during the closing shift. Carla went home and took the cake in a to-go container to give to her kids. It was shitty that she had to work on her birthday, but she said that getting to see your gorgeous face was a present of its own. 

You tiredly yawned, seeing it was a few minutes past ten. You helped Tina even out the cash register, putting today’s earnings in an envelope, then putting it in the safe for Rudy to take to the bank at the end of the week. 

“You sure you don’t mind cleaning up on your own?” Tina asked, giving her a tired smile and a soft shrug. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you Wednesday.” Despite her annoying singing, Tina wasn’t that bad. She gave you a big grin before she hopped off the stool and left out the front door. Lou and Paul had already left at the start of closing. You didn’t know if Frankie snuck out the back early. 

You did a double take to the jukebox, watching Frankie flip his baseball hat backward and push a quarter into the machine. Your face softened, seeing him flip between the different records before landing on one. 

Something by Fleetwood Mac started playing. You watched him reach up and untack your banner from the wall easily. You nodded softly before grabbing the spray bottle filled with disinfectant and began wiping down the counters, seats, and tables. 

He walked up to you once you finished cleaning, handing you your folded-up banner. You twisted your lips in thought, rolling the banner around in your hands. 

“Wanna help me burn this in the burn barrel out back?” 

Frankie sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Yeah. Fuck it. Got nothin’ better to do.” 

---

With Frankie’s lighter, both of you watched with glassy eyes as the Happy Birthday! banner burnt to ashes. His face was lit up in orange and yellow hues. He haphazardly tried to lean into the flames with a cigarette dangling between his lips, a stupid laugh leaving you. He shrugged and put the cigarette behind his ear. 

“Fuck it.” He huffed, both of your eyes transfixed on the fading flames.

There was a beat of silence. 

Frankie’s eyes met yours. “We should do that again sometime.” 

Half of your mouth quirked up into a smirk.  “Do what?”

He cocked his head to the side in annoyance. “You know what.”

You shrugged and shoved your hands into your jacket pockets. The hum of the highway in the distance made you flashback to just a few hours ago with Frankie railing you against Tumbleweed. A black and purple-streaked night sky submerged the two of you, making you feel tiny. You sigh and shift on your feet, keeping your eyes on the flames that licked up the ay! in Birthday!

“Maybe.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Maybe?” 

“Mhm.”

Frankie teetered on your half-ass decision. Even the notion of having an open door left for him to sneak in was enough to make him happy. “Okay. I’ll take a maybe.” 

God, you were bluffing so hard. Maybe it wouldn’t be sooo bad to throw him a bone every once in a while. 

Your fantasizing was cut short as ashes of the banner spewed up from the depths of the barrel and fluttered up into the air between you and Frankie, both of you taking a preemptive step away.

His lighter clicked again; he had to do it a few times before the end of his cigarette caught a flame. “I’ll see you when I see you.” He murmured. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was trying to walk you to your car, wanting to leave, but not until you started heading home, too. 

He swung his body into the driver seat of his beaten-up pickup truck. You decided to follow suit, sliding into your car. You saw Tommy’s fade away from the rearview mirror in the distance. But the thoughts of Frankie between your legs, fucking you into oblivion, and begging to serve your aching center would sit with you until your next shift at Tumbleweed. Sorry. Tommy’s Diner. 

---

here's my masterlist!

wanna join my taglist? I don't have one! follow hellishfics and turn on notifications to see the next time I update!

[missgurrl]

Fic Recommendations

These are some of the fics that I've read that I have been left thinking about months after!

Please check these fics for trigger warnings and 18+ content at your discretion!

Joel Miller Wasteland, Baby! by "LittleR13" Plum by @thyme-in-a-bubble Letters and Sketches by "kay_erin" Never Let Me Down by "elmapache" The Wolf and the Moon by @misspearly1 Finders Keepers by @xokiwistarship Blue Jeans n Texas Dreams by @tightjeansjavi Cruel Summer by @proxima-writes

Din Djarin A Fresh Start by @theidiotwhowritesthings Ours by "tangerinefilm" Of Love and Time by @pentechics *Naboo Nuptial which is my own work

Frankie "Catfish" Morales No More by @albertasunrise Infernal Hearts by "honeymandos" In a Week by "notanotherquarantinefanfic" Near the Waters by "paisley_print" Green Mountain State by "pedro_djarin"

Javier Pena The Crush by @the-ginger-hedge-witch Not a Piece of Art by "notanotherquarantinefanfic" Maybe Today, Maybe Forever by @freedomatsea Learning to Live by @wheresarizona The Meeting Place by @absurdthirst, @wardenparker Just Dumb Enough to Try by "glitter_diety" You're my Best Friend by @autumnleaves1991-blog *Hoofprints which is my own work

*I couldn't find everyone's blogs, please let me know if I didn't tag you! And feel free to send your recs my way to add to the list.*

[polaroidpascal]

morning brew || joel & frankie

AO3 || MASTERLIST

pairing : frankie morales x f!reader x joel miller

summary : when you and Frankie wake up, you find that joel is missing from bed.

tags : fluff but allusions to smut, no use of y/n, frankie being sweet, joel being a goofy menace, all love and silly jokes with these three, fic cover is for vibes only, reader is you babe!!

WC : 619

a/n : this might be the stupidest little thing i've ever spat out, and i wrote it in all of like 15 minutes, maybe, simply bc i saw one of those "passed out a couple times but your dessert is ready!" memes. also bc i haven't been able to stop thinking about frankie or being in a throuple with him and joel 🫠 so enjoy this stupid nonsense ig 💀

Joel’s not in bed when you wake up.

Frankie has his arms wrapped around you, the two men having sandwiched you in the bed late last night as the three of you drifted to sleep. His hot breath fans across your skin, slow and sleepy as he dreams.

You turn in his hold to face him and he tries to nuzzle his face into your neck. You pepper kisses onto his forehead, his cheek, and wake him up with a kiss.

“Good morning, hermosa,” he says, voice hoarse with slumber as it rumbles through your ribcage.

“Good morning,” you say, planting another deep, slow kiss to his plush lips. His hands roam sweetly and gently against your soft, warm skin. And you let him, the sweet boy, caress every inch of your body he can find just because he loves you so much.

You pull away from the kiss and he meets you with a small protesting whine. “Joel’s not here…”

“Hm?” he mutters, eyes barely open. “Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know, I think we should go find him,” you say with a smile, a small one. One he meets as his eyes fully open and he throws the covers off of you.

The smell of coffee meets you before the image of him does. You walk down the hallway with Frankie trailing close behind you, his hand locked in yours. You round the corner and see Joel standing at his coffee pot donning nothing but a robe and his slippers, three mugs sitting on the counter before him.

He hears the floor shift beneath you and looks up, a smile blossoming on his face. “G’mornin’, sleepyheads. Made y’all some coffee.”

You and Frankie sit at the island together and cradle the mugs in your hands. You both sip and hum at the bitter bite of the coffee and the sweetness that lingers after.

“Mmm… so good, Joel. Thank you,” Frankie says with a sparkle in his eye and Joel winks at him. He smirks at that, then asks, “This tastes different... but good different. Did you use a different milk or something? Like, a new creamer?”

“Sure did,” he says with a nod. “Passed out, like, six times though.”

You both choke mid-sip and Joel stifles back a laugh.

“Y— you what?” you ask, nearly setting the mug down.

“Yeah, got up early ‘n everything to make it perfect for my two angels.” A positively shit-eating grin explodes across his face as he takes another slow, audible sip of his coffee.

You and Frankie turn to each other wide-eyed, then back to Joel before he erupts with laughter.

“Darlin’, relax. I’m just teasin’,” Joel manages between giggles. “Yes, I bought a new creamer.” He holds a hand over his stomach while he laughs some more.

The two of you let go of the breath you didn't realize you were holding, shoulders slumping and looking down into the cups in your hands. Frankie starts to chuckle first, looking at Joel and shaking his head before laughing harder.

It’s not long before the three of you are in a laughing fit in the kitchen, coffee abandoned as laughter and giggles fill the kitchen.

“Well, today is off to an interesting start,” you say, catching your breath.

“That’s one way to put it,” Frankie chimes in before nudging your arm.

“Yeah, sure is,” Joel agrees, pressing a hand to his stomach while he exhales deep. “Man, almighty. ‘M not gonna have enough energy left.”

You breathe a laugh out of your nose. “Yeah? Energy for what?”

He looks up again, unable to hide his goofy smile like he did before. “For the dessert I was gonna fix for y’all later.”

[joelalorian]

Masterlist

Welcome to the madness that is my medicated mind! Hope you find something you enjoy. 18+ MDNI, warnings/tags included on each individual fic. No use of y/n, ever.

Series

Tides of Desire: TLOU no outbreak AU. Joel Miller is a luxury yacht captain running charters in the Caribbean. You join the crew as a deckhand and unexpectedly complicate Joel's peaceful existence. Basically the TLOU bunch on a Below Deck yacht. Complete.

Fall Into Me: dbf!Joel x f!reader. Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything. Complete.

Petals of Affection: A cozy, floral mystery in three parts featuring Jackson!Joel x f!reader. A secret admirer gifts you a different flower and a riddle ten times before you put the clues together and discover that he's been right in front of your face the whole time. Complete.

One-Shots

Lost Cause: Joel thinks you shouldn’t waste your time on him. You disagree. Inspired by the song Save Me by Jelly Roll. Some of the lyrics have been woven into the story.

One-Shots

Fevered Flame: Marcus Pike x f!reader. When Marcus Pike lost himself in work after that debacle with Teresa, he didn’t expect to take on a sizzling new case in the quirky town of Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. Nor did he expect to meet you, an up-and-coming agent also looking for a fresh start. An unprecedented heatwave, mind-boggling art thefts, ancient Aztec legends, this case had the works. How would he ever solve the case with the temperature rising between you both?

Series

Lycoris Radiata - Coming Soon!

One-Shots

Blown Away: How were you to know that Dave York blowing you a kiss in a quaint coffee shop one morning would change your life?

Whisked Away: Dave York is full of surprises. A secret getaway leads to the next step in your life with Dave. A follow-up to Blown Away, but could be read as a standalone.

One-Shots

beneath the silent boughs, whispers of danger flow: An adventure planned to impress you goes sideways, leaving Frankie scrambling to get you both out alive. Summer Lovin 2024 challenge fic.

Beacon of Hope: Rough weather leads to a helicopter crash. Is it real or all delirium? Written for @/almostfoxglove's angst challenge.

neighborhood watch: When someone - or something - starts causing mischief around your new neighborhood, you and your neighbor Frankie are paired up for the new neighborhood watch.

my skin in your teeth: Seems like everyone in the house wants to sink their teeth into Frankie in one way or another. A neighborhood watch sequel for #fucktober.

Sweetness in the Stars: While prospecting on a recently colonized moon, Ezra discovered a strawberry patch amidst the lush forests. Knowing how you missed the sweet fruit and longing for a way to get closer to you, he took you back to the grove to harvest the juicy, plump berries. Afterwards, Ezra treats you to an unexpected, sweet treat. Happy Pedro Hours charcuterie challenge fic.

a hero's blessing: The Norse goddess Frith weaves the fabric of destiny for every living being. A Norwegian gift of a thousand thanks unlocks a destiny which Marcus did not see coming. An Offering of Frith challenge fic.

Through Every Lifetime: Two souls find each other through every lifetime when love refuses to give up. A Roll-A-Trope challenge fic.

[noisynaia]

Heyo… 💕

I have not been on here a lot for the last year or so, and I don’t know how many people are still interested in my writing, but I would like to get back to it. So, I’ve decided to open my requests again to get back into the groove. I don’t now if anyone is interested, but I would love to write again. I write for almost all Pedro Pascal characters and the triple frontier guys 💕

(I am also going to go through and edit Distant Suns and Dreaming of You, and hopefully soon get back into writing for both of them.)

[wildemaven]

Duality Of A Man: Pt. 2

Pairing: Joel Miller/Frankie Morales x F!Reader / AU

WC: 2300

Warnings: T; Mentions of killing, death, birth, birth trauma, food; If I’ve forgotten anything please let me know.

A/N: Firstly, It’s here! Secondly, read part one before reading this or none of this will make any sense to you. I was so worried about having a two part story, mainly because I didn’t want this second part to not contribute to how the first part ended. So I’m really hoping the intensity carried over to this part. Like I mentioned in the first part, this is an alternate universe but I still tried to use storylines from both characters to piece it all together. In it being set in an alternate universe, I fudged the timeline and ages so it made more sense to the Joel’s past— he’s roughly 38 in this verse. Like always, this is not beta’d and all mistakes are made by me! Enjoy!!

Masterlist / Part 1 / Part 3

“Fuck!”

You’re both frozen in the moment. The tension palpable.

A heavy sigh leaves his throat as his head falls forward, a hand scrubbing down his face. The one thing he’s kept from you, now barreling back into his life.

He straightens himself back up. Looking at you, your features distressed and tense. It’s then he notices the faint glimmer of a tear rolling down your cheek.

“Sweetheart, lemme explain.” The heavy silence broken by his thick drawl.

“Joel, what—“ Your hands wiping the at the wetness. “Is that even your name?” You question him.

“No— well, yes technically. But no, sweetheart it’s not. But if you give me a chance I can explain everything to ya.”

He starts to take a step forward, his arms extending out to you.

“I— I need a minute, please.” Your hand shooting up to keep some space between you. “Just—“ You turn and walk to the kitchen, hoping for more time to wrap your head around all this new information.

Joel is not in fact your Joel. He’s married? Your stomach drops at the thought of being the other woman. You catch yourself on the counter, your arms barely keeping your shaky form upright, knuckles white as they grip the edge of the cold stone.

You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, taking a moment to slow your heartbeat.

The shuffle of Joel’s boots against the tiled floor as he enters the room breaks your trance.

“Sweetheart—“ His voice barely above a whisper, pleading for your attention. You wipe the remaining tears that have fallen before turning to him. Leaning back into the counter, arms cross in front of you as you mentally prepare yourself for the explanation he’s about to give you.

“What’s your real name?” You begin to question him first.

“Francisco— Francisco Morales is my real name. Everyone called me Frankie though.” He explains.

You attempt to swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat as you turn your head, glancing out the small window above the sink, life still moving forward outside as yours stands still within these walls. Trying your best to hold back the onslaught of tears that have started to form. Your Joel isn’t your Joel. He’s Francisco, Frankie.

“Who is Kelli and why was she on our front doorstep explaining to me she’s your wife? That she’s been needing to talk to you for years? Fuck Joel! I’m no fucking home-wrecker!” Your voice slightly laced with aggravation at the thought of coming between someone’s marriage.

“It’s not like that sweetheart.”

“Then what the fuck is it like Joel? Huh? What am I suppose to think when I have this woman telling me she’s your fucking wife?! Please explain that to me!”

“I will. I will explain everything to ya. But ya gotta know, I never meant to lie or hurt ya. Ya gotta know that babe.” His jaw shifting, a nervous tick he has when he feels most vulnerable. You want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him, because you still love the man standing before you.

Of all the qualities about Joel, his honesty was one of his best. He didn’t beat around the bush, he always gave it straight. And even now, you can sense the truth is what he’s about to deliver to you.

You nod in agreement, because you know this about him— he would never do anything to deliberately hurt you. He’s a protecter and cares deeply.

“Go on then. Tell me everything. Help me understand, please.” Your voicing cracking, encouraging him to continue.

He props himself up against the counter across from you. One arm crossed, his elbow of the other resting on it, thumb tracing back and forth on his bottom lip. Contemplation and worry weighing heavily on him as he tries to decide where to start.

He looks up at you, and it pains him to see the hurt in your eyes by his doing. He takes a deep breath to steady himself and then tells you everything.

“I joined the army when I was 18. I was shit in school and didn’t think I would amount to anything, so the first recruiter to catch my eye had me signin’ up on the spot.” He hasn’t talked about his past to anyone and now here he is spilling it all for you in your shared kitchen. “Became a helicopter pilot and spent the rest of my time enlisted flyin’”

“Did a few tours after I joined. I was overseas more than I was home at that point. When I got back after my last deployment, I met Kelli. She was a friend of a friend and we’d hit it off. I knew instantly that she was the one.”

You wince at his words, ‘the one.’ This was nearly 15 years ago, but hearing him say that he had fallen in love and married the love of his life is a pain you’d never expected to feel waking up this morning.

“We married after only knowing each other 6 months. We were good— we were happy.” He sounds as if he’s trying to convince himself of this.

“A couple years later, a few army buddies of mine convinced me to do this off the record recce— they needed a pilot. The pay out was hefty and I knew it would help Kelli ‘n I out a ton. She wanted to by a house, but we couldn’t afford it on our incomes combined.”

He takes a minute to let his thoughts sit for a bit. You haven’t said a word since he started talking. He’s not sure if you’re trying to process it all or contemplate how you plan on leaving him when he’s finished.

“We fought about it for a week, she didn’t want me to go. It was in Colombia and I’d have to go silent while I was gone. She said she wouldn’t be there when I got back.”

“The recce was supposed to be a quick in and out— It wasn’t. We had to kill men, bad men, one of them this big time drug lord. We didn’t get the money and lost one of our own on our way home.”

“I’m so sorry Joel.” Your empathic response hits him hard.

“When I got back Kelli was gone, just like she said. I was broke and alone, I hated myself for what I did.”

“Joel—“ Your heartbreaking at his admission. You want to comfort him and show him that despite everything he’s telling you, you’re still here for him.

“No!” It comes out harsher than he means, and he hates the way you flinch at it. “No, let me finish. You need to know everything.”

“The consequences finally caught up to us a year later. Men were after us and we had to go into hiding. We were able to get some strings pulled from some higher ups. Set us up with new names, social security numbers— washed us of our previous lives. Came out here to Texas to start fresh, create a life for myself.”

There’s a pregnant pause, but your intuition tells you there’s more.

“Tommy, he’s not your brother, is he?”

“No.” He shakes his head at your question. “He’s my cousin, on my dad’s side, I was able to get his last name. He let me crash on his couch for a bit until I was able to set some roots down. Everyone just assumed we were brothers so we didn’t see the need in correcting them.”

“And Sarah— Is she Kelli’s?” The question subdued but one he hasn’t answered yet.

“No, Kelli never wanted kids— which is fine, her right.” He sighs, shoulders sagging as the weight begins to lift with each word he speaks. “I met Sarah’s mom not long after I moved here— wasn’t anything serious. After a few months she’d found out she was pregnant. I told her I wanted to be apart of the baby’s life and we planned to try and make it work together, for Sarah’s sake.”

He stops. The pain in his eyes is too much to witness from where you were. You close the distance between you and him, cupping his face with your hand, his eyes flutter closed as he leans into it.

“It’s okay—” You lift his gaze to yours, grounding him in that moment. “It’s okay baby!” He nods in return.

“Her mom died while giving birth. It was the most devastating thing I’d ever been through.” A sob cracks in his throat, the tears streaming down his distraught face. You pull him in close, arms wrapping around him, cradling his head with one hand as he tucks his face into your neck.

He’d never shared what had happened between him and Sarah’s mom, and you never felt the need to pry it out of him.

You both stand there for a while. No words exchanged, letting him continue on his own.

The stereo still filling the room with its static resonance muffling the quiet cries pouring into your shoulder.

“Hey—Hey look at me.” Joel’s head slowly lifting from his place of comfort. Your fingers gently work at wiping away the tears, the pain still lingering in his expression. “I’m so sorry Joel. I can’t imagine having to deal with all that, to then have to shut that part of you out. Thank you for telling me, for being honest about all of this. I’m here though when ever you need to talk about it okay?”

“I should be the one apologizing sweetheart. You’re taking this too well for someone who just had 15 years worth of secrets thrown at them in the last 30 minutes.”

You can’t help the soft chuckle that you give him. Your thumb softly caresses his cheek, “You should know I don’t scare that easily by now Miller. Yeah, it was a complete shock to have this all dropped on me— but I don’t think of you any less. I vaguely remember telling you on our first date 5 years ago, I’m tougher than I look.”

That makes him smile.

“Does Sarah know? About all of this?”

“No, none of it. I’m just dad, grumpy Joel Miller to her and Tommy’s her uncle— she knows nothing different. She knows about her mom though, told her when she was old enough to ask why she was the only one in school with out one. She took it pretty well.”

“She’s a smart kid, she takes after someone I know.”

“Me?”

“No, me!” You swat at his chest playfully.

His eyes roll, but he knows you’re right. You’ve been in their lives the better part of 5 years now. The closest thing to a mother figure Sarah’s ever known. And he’s grateful that you treat her with as much love as you do.

“Okay, so that only leaves one question. Why now? Why come all this way to find you if she’d left you high and dry all those years ago?”

“I’m guessing to have me sign some paperwork. We never officially divorced— legally we’re still married.”

“Hmm. That would make sense I guess. She left her number to give her a call. Maybe sign those papers so I don’t feel like I’m meddling in someone’s marriage.”

That garners a hearty chuckle from him and he agrees to give her a call— officially put his past behind him.

He leans in, his lips crashing into yours, pouring his heart into the kiss. It’s tender, yet you can feel the love he’s trying to convey through it.

The creak of the front door signals Sarah’s arrival home.

“Hey! I’m home!” She announces herself, stopping in the doorway of the kitchen, giving a questioning look at you and Joel still holding each other.

“Did someone die?!” Her hand clasped against her chest and she gasps. “It was Mrs. Adler wasn’t it?! I’m gonna miss her cookies!”

“What? No! No one died!” Joel says as you try to stifle the laugh bubbling in your chest.

“Then why do you two look so— depressed?”

“We’re just having a— moment?” You try to sound confident in your words and you think she’s bought it, but her cocked eyebrow says otherwise.

“A moment? At 10 am on a Sunday—“ She continues looking between the both of you. “In the middle of the kitchen? You two really need to work on your lying skills. I’ve heard a 5 year old sound more convincing than what I’m hearing.”

“Alright!” Joel pushes off the counter, hands clapping together to bring the discussion to a close. “That’s enough outta you young lady. Go on upstairs and put your stuff away, we’re going out for burgers and ice cream in a bit. Make sure you take a shower, wash off that sass you brought home with ya.”

She retreats without a comeback, the ploy of some good food and dessert is enough to get her moving.

You’re both still standing in middle of the kitchen, a comfortable silence washing over the both of you. “We’re okay, right?” He asks you, normalcy already settling back into the present. “Yeah Babe, we’re okay.”

“So— What am I suppose to call you now?”

“Call me? ‘m not followin’.” Confused and unsure what you’re asking.

“Ya know, just wanna make sure I’m screaming the right name later on tonight.” You say with a cheeky grin.

“Is that so?!” He lurches forward, grabbing at your waist as you try to make your escape, but his arms are quicker than your legs. “Woman, you are a menace!” He growls into your neck, gifting you a few nips as he tickles your sides.

Your arms flailing about as you try to hold him off, your head thrown back as you laugh in defeat. It’s his favorite to see you so carefree and happy, he’s grateful he’s the one on the receiving end of it.

Your hands locking behind his neck, pulling yourself up to him. “Yeah, but I’m your menace Joel.” You whisper against his lips.

“Mmmm, that you are sweetheart. I love you.”

“And I love you.”

next

[pedritomipapi]

First date, he's kinda shy and nervous. 😌🤪

[flightlessangelwings]

I see a lot of posts about Frankie and Joel and I would like to direct y’all’s attention to a fic I wrote last year that has Frankie and Joel in a

✨✨Pussy eating contest✨✨

Even tho it’s a little older I still love this fic and i think y’all would appreciate it! 💖

Enjoy 😘😘

[pimosworld]

TLOU x Triple Frontier crossover AU

Pairing-Joel Miller x f!reader x Francisco Morales

Summary- You were a bartender at Joel’s place and everyone knew you were his but when you meet Francisco Morales you wonder if there’s room in your life for one more.

Rating-Explicit 18+ MDNI,NSFW

Content warnings- Alcohol consumption, eventual mmf dynamics, mentions of ptsd,smut,angst,fluff,violence any further warnings will be added to individual chapters.

A/N- This is set post outbreak in the Boston qz. The Miller brothers and Joel are related and they enlist Joel’s help when they have to leave the Dallas qz. All the tf boys will be working at the bar in various jobs but reader is the bartender. Reader is in her 30s No specified age but she’s younger than Joel and Frankie.

All chapter titles are related to prohibition

No set posting schedule at this time.

Character link

Moonshine Masterlist

Chapter 1-The pleasures all mine

Chapter 2-Under the table

Chapter 3- Breaking the ice🔥

Chapter 4-XXX part I 🔥partII🔥

Chapter 5-White lightning 🔥

Chapter 6-Fools errand🔥

Final chapter-Speakeasy🔥

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Maybe, Baby?

Summary: You and Frankie aren't trying for a baby just yet, but when your weird symptoms start to throw your body for a loop, you start to wonder if you actually might be pregnant

Pairing: Husband!Frankie Morales x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), Unprotected p in v sex (wrap before u tap, silly gooses), creampie, praise kink, size kink (if u squint), unintentional breeding kink (lmaoooo, it's me, sorry not sorry), birth control/family planning, pregnancy (or maybe not? part 2 maybe? hehe) symptoms, Frankie and reader mention being closer to 30 than 16 (turns out when you're an adult, it's not a teen pregnancy anymore), reader has hair that can be played with, Frankie being the sweetest husband alive (all the gold stars for him), Frankie is so excited to be a dad that I just may pass away

A/N: I know y'all voted for me to finish chapter 20 but i lied (I'm so sorry), but I wrote this in a day and husband Frankie was really speaking to me on this one 😭 This one is brought to you by my raging baby fever and perhaps some real life inspiration WHOOPS, art imitating life on this one ig 💀 Poorly beta'd bc that's how I roll!!!

Ever since getting off birth control a few months ago, your body had felt… different. 

While you were glad you had made the change for yourself, you still found yourself shocked every month when a new sort of symptom decided to appear at some point in your cycle that you had never dealt with before- acne in new places, weird cramps, and crazy mood swings that showed up out of nowhere before your period were just a few of the things you were learning to manage as you figured out your body post birth control. 

Another symptom you hadn’t expected was that now, you were insatiably horny. 

All the time. 

While Frankie had been more supportive and caring in helping you deal with all of your not so pleasant symptoms than you could have hoped for, he was also more than happy to help you with your newly found positive one, too. 

The only problem was, after so many years of not having to worry about the consequences of your sex life on birth control, you and Frankie were finding it very hard to adjust to be more… careful. 

As you got hornier and hornier, the box of condoms that Frankie had bought after you stopped taking the pill had been seeing less and less use, and to be honest, hadn’t really seen the light of day from the back of his nightstand drawer in about a month an a half- and if you were being even more honest, on top of that, Frankie’s pull out game was almost nowhere to be found. 

You both knew that you wanted a family in the future- That was a part of your reason for getting off birth control to begin with. The two of you had agreed to hold off at least for a little longer to try and get your life more in order before bringing a baby into it, but with with your new lack of protection when it came to sex, and constant horniness around the clock, you both were beginning to have a feeling that that your agreed upon timeline for having a baby might be harder for you to maintain that you thought. 

Especially when you found yourself morphing into an unspeakably horny monster when you were ovulating. 

So little did you realize, that as you were brushing your teeth in the bathroom as the two of you were getting ready for bed and you caught a glimpse in the mirror of Frankie, stripping out of his shirt and jeans, leaving him only in his boxers as he searched around in your dresser for pajamas, that was the reason you nearly spit out your entire mouthful of toothpaste to try and get a mouthful of something else. 

You couldn’t help but ogle at your husband's broad body and freckled tan skin, muscles flexing as he shuffled through your drawers, pulling out an old, worn gray t-shirt and tugging it over his head, running his hand through his messy, curly hair before searching for his pajama bottoms.

At this point, you had honestly braced yourself on the edge of the bathroom counter to keep yourself from falling over at how mouth-watering he looked, already feeling the wetness beginning to pool in the cotton of your underwear at the thought of wanting to rip his clothes off just as fast as he had put them on. 

Letting out a yawn, Frankie raised his hands above his head so a sliver of his soft belly peaked out between his waistband and shirt hem before making his way into the bathroom, sleepily padding along the tile floor until his body was behind yours, chest flushed against your back and arms wrapped around your waist. Even more prevalent, his bulge pressed against your ass, making the wet spot in your underwear grow damper by the second. 

“You ready for bed, querida?” Frankie cooed, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder and smiling at your reflections in the mirror. 

While you were absolutely ready to get into bed, sleeping was not going to be your activity of choice.  

“I think that maybe…” You paused, turning around to face Frankie, his body caging yours against the counter, palms splayed flat on either side of your hips, looking down at you with his sweet, brown eyes, “I think that maybe we should do something else before we go to sleep.” 

“Something else, huh?” Frankie smirked, raising his eyebrows at you as your hands began to run up and down his arms, slightly squeezing the muscles of his biceps as your fingers crept under the fabric of his shirt sleeves. “And what might that something else be, Hermosa?” 

“You know exactly what it is, Fransisco. You expect me to watch you just roam around shirtless in our bedroom and not get all hot and bothered? God, you’re so fucking hot.” You moaned, letting your hands run up his shoulders and around his neck, pulling him in for a long, electric kiss. 

“Damn, what’s gotten into you, babe?” Frankie chuckled, trying his best not to blush at your comment, sliding his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“I don’t- Fuck, I don’t know, I just know that if you don’t fuck me right this second, I think I’m gonna explode.” 

While your statement may have had a flair for the dramatic, it was just about as close to the God’s honest truth as you could get- You were so worked up, you felt practically feral, the ache in your core so strong that you really did feel like you were on the verge of implosion. 

Before you even gave Frankie time to respond, your lips were crashing into his with a ferocious intensity, your hands grabbing fistfulls of his t-shirt as you stumbled back towards your bedroom, bodies bumping and bouncing against the walls and door frames, mouths never parting as the back of Frankie’s knees finally hit the mattress, forcing him to fall backwards onto the bed. 

Crawling overtop of him, you were already straddled over his hips, grinding your bottom half on the bulge growing in his pajamas as your hands crept under the hem of his t-shirt, running along the tanned, soft skin of his chest, making him let out a low groan that rumbled in his throat. 

Frantically shuffling himself further onto the bed, Frankie’s hands dug into your hips and over your ass as your hands slid down from his chest to his waistband, fingers tugging at the elastic to shuffle his bottoms and boxers down his legs, quickly followed by your own, dropping to a crumpled pile on the floor. 

Feeling your fingers wrap around his cock, already painfully hard, you swirled the precum leaking from his tip with your thumb before dragging your hand up and down his length, leaving Frankie sitting up in surprise while he watched you begin to hover over him, dragging his dick through your folds. 

“Hermosa, are you sure you don’t need me to-” But before Frankie could finish the rest of his protest to make sure you were ready to take him, you were already sinking down onto him, whimpering at the sweet sting and stretch of his fullness, followed by the ragged moan escaping Frankie’s lips. 

“Oh fuck… Nuh uh, Frankie. I need to feel you, baby. Needed to feel you inside me.” You whined, taking Frankie cock inch by inch until he had bottomed out inside you, his tip kissing your cervix, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure. 

Normally with Frankie’s size, you would have needed to warm you up first, but with how wet and worked up you already were, you were able to take him with ease, desperate to feel him buried deep inside you. 

“Jesus fucking christ, queirda, you’re so fucking wet. Fuck, baby.” Frankie moaned, feeling you begin to slide up and down his length, coating him with your arousal with each swirl of your hips. 

Arching your back, you jutted your hips forward, bracing your hands on Frankie’s strong thighs, circling your bottom half against his, whimpering at his fullness and the hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your clit, selfishly already longing to chase your own high to ease the ache that had been burning in your core. 

“Fuck, Frankie, you feel so good. Feel so fucking full with you in me.” You whimpered, bouncing even harder and faster on Frankie’s cock, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping his and wetness dripping from your heat coating the walls of your bedroom. 

“Yeah? This what you wanted, pretty girl? Wanted me to stretch this pretty little pussy out and fill you up?” Frankie groaned, gritting his teeth as he began to jut his hips up into yours as you rode him, the added depth of his thrusts making you cry out in pleasure. 

And for as fucking good as it felt, the horny monster you had morphed into had you greedily craving more- to have Frankie stretch you open in a way that had you seeing stars, so much that you could still feel the next day, long after the two of you were finished. 

“I-I want more, p-please, baby. Fuck- Fuck me harder, Fransisco.” You cried, your sweet voice whimpering his full name turning him almost as feral as you were, letting out a low growl as he grabbed you by your hips, flipping you so that your back hit the mattress and he was caging his broad body over yours. 

Practically ripping the t-shirt still covering your upper half off your body, Frankie dove face first between your breasts, groping one while hungrily sucking at the other, flicking your pebbled nipple with his tongue, his free hand reaching down to line his cock back up with your entrance, sliding back in to your aching core with ease. 

Frankie let himself sink all the way back in, filling you to the brim before hooking his arms around your knees, pressing your legs against your stomach, smirking to himself at the ragged moan you let out as the new angle opened you up even further. 

“You want me to fuck you harder, Hermosa?” Frankie mewled, slowly dragging his length out of your heat, looking down to see your shiny slick soaking his cock before looking back at you and the wrecked expression plastered across your face, frantically nodding in desperation. “Tell me how badly you want it, sweet girl.” 

“Fuck, I need you so bad, Fransisco, please.” You begged, damn near close to tears with how deeply you needed to feel Frankie ease the emptiness inside you. “Please, baby, I- oh fuck-”  

Before you could even finish the rest of your plea, your breath was already hitched in the back of your throat as Frankie began to pound into you at a relentless pace, tightening his grip around your thighs while he pressed them closer to your chest, grunting with each rut of his hips into yours. 

“This what you want, querida? Meirda- so fucking wet and tight, baby girl. You feel so fucking good, holy fuck.” 

It didn’t take long for the all too familiar tingle at the base of your spine to start spreading through your body like a wildfire as Frankie continued to slam into your g-spot, making you chant his name like a prayer, your brain at a loss for any other words than “Fuck, Fransisco.” 

And as if you already weren’t close enough, when Frankie reached down to thumb at your clit, rubbing in relentless circles against your sensitive nub, you knew you were a fucking goner. 

“That’s it, Hermosa. Cum for me, baby. Want that- oh fuck- want that prefect pussy to fucking soak me.” Frankie groaned, feverishly pounding into you, desperate to feel you come undone for him giving him long enough to fight off his own high that was rapidly building in the pit of his stomach. 

A few more thrusts were all it took to have the coil snapping in your belly, crying out Frankie’s name as you came, orgasm ripping through your body with a blinding intensity, eyes scrunching shut and jaw hanging open while pleasure and euphoria flowed through every ounce of you. 

Still blissed out and wrecked out of your mind, your eyes shot open as Frankie’s mouth crashed into yours, swallowing your whimpers and moans in a messy dance of tongues and teeth. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty when you cum. Jesus fuck-  fuck, I’m close too, baby. W-where do you want me, Hermosa?” Frankie asked, barley holding on long enough for you to answer, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier as his hips began to stutter, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brow with every ounce of self control he had left. 

Still barley coherent enough to form a sentence, your brain blurted out the only thing you could think of, and the only thing that you really wanted in the moment. 

“Inside, Fransisco. Fuck, cum inside me, baby.” 

That alone was almost enough to send Frankie over the edge, letting out a long, low groan, sloppily rutting into you as his brain went blank alongside yours, starting to babble incoherently. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck- you want me to fill you up, queirda? Fuck, I’ll fucking fill you up so good you’ll be dripping out of me for days. Oh fuck, shit baby, fuck, oh I’m gonnaahhhhhh-“ 

Just like that, Frankie took one last thrust, spilling deep inside you, coating your walls with his spend as his body slumped into yours, the pair of your chests rising and falling in sync as you both came back down to earth. 

“Jesus Christ… Holy fuck, Frankie.” You giggled quietly to yourself, blissfully filled with post orgasm ecstasy as your husband carefully pulled himself out before rolling over next to you on the bed, pulling you close against his chest. 

“Fuck me, Hermosa, holy shit.” Frankie chuckled, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead, tracing small circles on your back as he held you, heat radiating off of each other's sweat-ridden bodies. “God, I love you. We should probably get you cleaned up. You wanna shower?” He asked, smirking as your face lit up at his nearly rhetorical question. 

“Only if you’re up for round 2, Morales.”   

“My eyes are up here, Fransisco.” 

“Hmmm? What did you say?” 

“Exactly my point. Can you stop looking with your man eyes and look with your normal, helpful people eyes to help me decide on a dress for Benny and Victoria’s wedding?” You sighed, laughing to yourself as you raised an eyebrow at Frankie, his gaze still fixed on your chest. 

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll be helpful.” Frankie huffed, overdramatically rolling his eyes at you, playfully throwing his hands up in defense as he leaned back against the dressing room door, looking you up and down in one of the cute floral dresses you had picked to try on for your friends’ upcoming wedding. “It’s just that… Nevermind.” 

“It’s just that what, Frank?” You asked tilting your head in confusion at your husband as his eyes traveled back to your breasts, furled look in his brow like he was really staring there to prove a point. 

“It’s just that- Baby, I don’t know if it’s just the dress or what, but your boobs look huge. Like, they always look good, believe me, but like… Whew.” Frankie whistled, practically shaking his head in disbelief at how good you looked. 

“Really?” You asked, turning around to face the mirror in the dressing room, gently cupping your breasts, grimacing as you held them in your hands. “Yeah, I guess they do… Honestly, I was gonna complain about how sore they’ve been all day. I wonder if maybe my period is just coming early?” 

“Maybe? You did ride me pretty hard the last couple nights and put on a good show, so maybe they hurt from all that bouncing and-” 

“Frankie! We are in public!” You playfully scolded, giving him a flimsy slap to the chest to cut off the rest of his thought, the two of you quietly giggling to yourselves and trying to “Shhhh” each other from drawing too much attention to your dressing room stall. “The dress, you goofball, yes or no? Sooner we pick, the sooner we can go get food, because your wife is starving.” 

“I vote yes on the dress. You look beautiful in it, querida.” Frankie smiled, stepping behind you to press a kiss on the side of your head. 

“You just like it because it makes my boobs look huge.” 

“What? Can you blame me for wanting to stare at my gorgeous wife’s boobs all night?” 

“God, you are ridiculous, Fransisco. Fine, boob dress wins. Now let’s get out of here and go get some food before you get stuck in a titty trance and I die of hunger.” 

While the rest of your Saturday was spent enjoying the delicious Mexican food that you had picked up on the way home and a much needed night in on the couch with Frankie, there was a tiny part of your brain that couldn’t seem to shake his comment from earlier about how big your boobs looked. 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t agree with him, because truth be told, they felt huge, too. They had been sore since you had woken up this morning, and while you had chalked it up to what you and Frankie had been up to the past few nights, or bad PMS symptoms, there was still just something about you that felt off. 

Later that night, during your movie marathon, you had paused whatever new action movie Frankie had been begging to watch since it had popped up on Netflix a few days ago for a popcorn refill. 

While Frankie meandered around the kitchen waiting for the next bag of popcorn to finish popping, you stayed curled up with your blanket in your corner of the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, until a sharp twinge began to cramp in your lower stomach. The feeling took you by surprise, digging your fingers into your side to try and ease the dull and achy sensation as your face scrunched in confusion, wondering why in the world you had what felt like period cramps in your belly. 

“Hey, you okay, Hermosa?” Frankie asked, returning with popcorn in hand, his face painted with concern to see the pained look scrunched between your brow as you curled deeper into the couch. 

“Oh, y-yeah, I’m fine. I just um, I just had a weird cramp I guess. Probably just ate all that popcorn too fast.” You replied, trying to convince yourself just as much as you were trying to convince Frankie that you were overthinking whatever mystery symptoms had just flashed through your lower half. 

“Here, lemme just set this popcorn down and then I can rub your back while we finish the movie, okay?” Frankie smiled softly, setting down the bowl on the coffee table before crawling back under the sea of blankets on the couch with you, laying your head against his thigh like a pillow while his hand traced up and down along the small of your back. 

“Thanks, Frankie.” You whispered quietly, taking a few deep breaths as the familiar warmth of your husband’s palm worked up and down the worn fabric of his shirt that you had put on earlier. 

“Of course, baby. If you need anything else, just let me know, okay? Just promise me you’ll take it easy on the popcorn if you have any more there, Killer.” 

The two of you laughed quietly as Frankie leaned down to press a soft kiss into your messy hair laid across his lap before picking up the remote to let the rest of the movie play as your eyelids began to get heavier and heavier as you slowly drifted off to sleep. 

“What’s inside this box?” 

“Open it up and find out! It’s a surprise for you!” 

“Okay? Huh, why is it just a pregnancy test in there?” 

“It’s yours! Congratulations! You’re having a baby!” 

“Ahhhhh!” You shrieked, panting as you woke from a cold sweat, shooting up from the couch. “What the fuck…” You whispered to yourself, coming to and realizing that you were now awake and had only been dreaming moments before this. Running your hands over your face, you blinked a few times to be greeted by the dim light of the TV still flickering in the background, Frankie sprawled out and snoring by your side where the two of you must have fallen asleep on the couch during the movie. 

“What a weird fucking dream…” You sighed to yourself, shaking your head as you quietly pushed yourself off the couch to stumble to the bathroom, pulling your phone out of your sweatpants pocket to check what ungodly hour of the night it had to be since the two of you had crashed on the couch. 

2:07 A.M. 

You let out a low grumble, pushing your sweatpants down to your ankles as you sat down to pee, blinking your eyes open wider to look through the notifications piled on top of each other on your lockscreen. Mindlessly swiping through a few junk emails and text messages from group chats, one notification in particular caught your eye, rousing you from your half awake state. 

“Feeling down? As you begin your Luteal Phase of your cycle, it’s normal to be less cheerful compared to last week when you were Ovulating! Click to track your cycle symptoms for today!” 

Oh shit.  

You could feel your heart beginning to race as you opened up the app, scrolling to the calendar tracker for the month. Swiping through the days, it didn’t take you long to realize that despite all of your weird symptoms you had been chalking up to PMS, you were almost two weeks away from starting your period. Frantically scrolling backwards, you began to try and rack your brain of all of the times in the past week that you had sex with Frankie while you would have been ovulating, and out of that number, how many times he hadn’t finished inside you, let alone even attempt to pull out. 

And that number was a big, fat zero. 

That’s when it hit you like a fucking freight train- You weren’t PMS-ing.

More than likely, you were pregnant. 

“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, your voice trembling and heart pounding as you buried your face in your trembling hands, your mind flooding with a million different thoughts all at once. 

How could you not remember that you were ovulating? Would Frankie be upset? The two of you weren’t even trying for kids right now. Would you be a good Mom? What were you even going to need to do to prepare? Your house was starting to get small for just you and Frankie, let alone a baby. How were you going to find a new place to live in 9 months? And get a new car? How were you- 

“Baby, you good in there?” Frankie groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he stumbled into the bathroom, letting out a yawn as he opened the door, bright light flooding into the hallway and revealing the sobbing mess you had become, still pants down, hunched over the toilet. 

“Woah, hey, hey, hey. Baby, baby, what’s going on? Talk to me, Hermosa. Are you okay? What happened?” You could feel Frankie’s demeanor immediately switch as soon as he saw you in the bathroom, instantly dropping to his knees by your side, his hands gently grabbing your face to shift your gaze towards him, carefully swiping his thumb to dry the tears that had been streaming down your cheeks. 

“Frankie, I- I- Fuck.” You stuttered, gulping hard as you tried to catch your breath, fighting back your nervous sobs as you locked eyes with Frankie, wondering how in the world you were ever about to brace him for the news you were about to tell him. 

“Hermosa, what is it? Please, tell me baby, what’s wrong?” Frankie pleaded, softly squeezing your face in reassurance as he waited for your response. 

You took a few more deep breaths, composing yourself enough to at least try to get a coherent thought out, swallowing hard as the words left your mouth. 

“Frankie, I-, Frankie, I think- I think I’m pregnant.” 

Frankie’s eyes went wide, his jaw practically hanging open as he tried to process what you had just told him, wondering if he hadn’t heard you right in his groggy state. 

“W-what?” 

“I think I might be pregnant, Frankie.” 

Before you could even bear the thought of looking at his face again, filled with fear that it would be a look of shock and disappointment, you buried your face in your hands again, fighting with everything in you not to cry and keep your composure. 

Frankie sat quietly for a moment, his hand covering up the gaping hole his jaw had made as it nearly hit the floor, shaking his head in disbelief before wrapping his hand around your wrist, pulling your hands to look at him. 

“R-really? You- fuck- You really think you’re pregnant?” 

As your eyes met his, you couldn’t believe the look on your husbands face- Not only was Frankie practically grinning from ear to ear, the sweet brown of his puppy dog eyes were welling with happy tears of their own, waiting on your every word as if he still didn’t believe what he was hearing. Silently, you began to slowly nod your head, biting down on your tongue, your heart feeling like it was about to shoot out of your chest. 

“You’re...y-you’re not upset?” You stammered, sitting up a little taller at Frankie’s reaction. 

“Upset? Hermosa, why in the world would I ever be upset?” Frankie laughed quietly, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear as his other hand cupped your jaw. “Querida… There’s nothing more I want on this earth than to have a family. And-fuck- The fact that it gets to be with you? That you might give me a family? How could I ever be upset about that? 

“Well it’s not like we were really trying for a baby, Frank. We said another year or two. With the house and money -” 

“Hey. We’ll figure it all out, okay? I promise, we’ll be more than okay.” Frankie smiled, his goofy grin still stretched wide between his cheeks, finally easing some of your worry. 

“I don’t even feel like I’m old enough to have a kid. I feel like I need to call up MTV to tell them I’ll be on the next season of 16 and Pregnant.” The two of you snorted, shaking your heads in awestruck disbelief that a stupid joke about a reality TV show could soon become your reality. 

“Well considering we’re married, have a house, and most importantly, are much closer to 30 than we are 16, I think they may have a hard time pitching the show “Married Couple Has a Baby”.” Frankie teased, giving you a playful nudge as the two of you laughed, giving you a few seconds to catch your breath before trying to dig into details. “Did- Did you take a test? How long have you known?”

“No, I don’t know for sure yet, Frank. It’s… It’s just a feeling, I guess. But the huge, sore boobs, weird, period-like cramps and the fact that we really haven’t been the most careful are all pretty good clues.” 

“Well, I mean, I don’t know, we’ve tried to be care-” 

Before Frankie could even finish the rest of his thought, you were already giving him the sassiest look you could muster in your overwhelmed and sleepy state, making the two of you laugh again he let out a sigh of defeat. 

“Okay, yeah, we really haven’t been that careful at all. Sweetie, listen, I- I know it’s not what we had planned, but… I mean, if you are pregnant…” Frankie paused, smiling at your stomach as he gently place a hand over your belly, tears welling in his chocolate brown eyes, “Baby, I would be so excited. Nervous as hell, but so fucking excited.” 

“Me too.” You sniffed, looking down at Frankie’s palm splayed across your stomach, heart swelling at the thought of Frankie being dad, thinking of how sweet and caring and perfect he’d be as you grew your little family together. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled Frankie in close, letting out a shaky sigh, whispering your words through happy tears. 

“I love you so much, Frankie.” 

“I love you so much too, Hermosa. More than anything.” 

For the sake of Frankie’s shoulder, you pulled away to wipe your tears to keep from soaking your husband’s shirt, quietly laughing to yourself at the fact that this whole time you had been talking to Frankie, you had still been pantsless, hunched over the toilet. 

“It probably would have been way more romantic to tell you all of this not at 2:30 in the morning, pantsless and hunched over the toilet like a little gremlin.” You snorted, Frankie following suit as he shook his head, running his hand through the sleepy curls of your hair. 

“I wouldn’t want it any other way, mi amor. C’mon, let’s get you up to bed.” 

As the two of you sleepily trotted your way upstairs, curling together under the warmth of your comforter with Frankie’s chest pressed against your back, you couldn’t help but smile as his arm draped over your stomach, hand resting on your belly while his thumb traced soft circles on your skin, imagining what it would be like if a few months from now if you really were getting ready to add another member to your family. 

The next morning, as the sunrise began to spill through your curtains, casting bright orange and pink shadows on your bedroom walls, you couldn’t help but stir as the familiar scent and warmth of Frankie’s body was missing from his side of the bed.

 As you sat up in the sea of blankets and comforters, softly rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you saw Frankie’s frame quietly sneaking through the bedroom door, fresh mug of coffee and bag of breakfast in hand with a stupid smile plastered across his face as he was greeted with your barely awake grin. 

“Good morning, beautiful.” Frankie cooed, setting down the coffee and breakfast down on your nightstand as he sat down next to you on the edge of the bed, pressing a tender kiss into the sleep-ridden ends of your hair before wrapping his arms around you in a long embrace. 

“Good morning, handsome.” You yawned, stretching your arms over your head, letting out a little grunt and laying your head on Frankie’s shoulder. “What’s all this for?” You asked, gesturing towards the coffee and oversized McDonald’s bag, assuming it was the reason for Frankie’s absence when you woke up. 

“I- I don’t know, I uh- I was just really excited when I got up this morning. It was early, and I didn’t wanna wake you up, so I made a trip to CVS to buy some pregnancy tests for you and figured I’d pick up breakfast on the way home.” Frankie smiled sheepishly, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, brushing past his untamed morning curls. “I know- I know you can’t really take the tests yet- I spent a lot of time reading the boxes in the store and wasn’t really sure what the best one was to take, so I got like, 4 different ones for when it's time.” 

“God, you’re so sweet. You’re the best, you know that? It’s about to be a long week of waiting before I can take one of those. Do you- fuck, Frankie, do you think it could really be positive?” You asked, tears beginning to well in your eyes again as you smiled up at your husband, already beaming back at you, picturing the two pink lines showing up on all of the tests he had bought for you. 

“Maybe, if we’re lucky.” He smirked, gently cupping your face, swiping his thumb across your face. “But if it’s not, then maybe… Maybe we start trying for a positive one on purpose.” 

“R-really?” You grinned, biting down on your lip in excitement. 

“Really, really.” Frankie replied, bringing his lips to yours in a long, slow kiss, soaking in the sweet taste of you on his tongue. “And maybe…” 

“Maybe, what, Fransisco?” You giggled, bringing your mouth back to his in a sweet and sloppy kiss. 

“Maybe…. We start trying right now, ya know, just to be sure. Wouldn’t want all those pregnancy tests to go to waste.”

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog @amyispxnk @samgirl4life @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3

[kirsteng42]

Oh no Frankie baby, what ya doing mate????

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 29

Our boys, along with Joel and Tommy, finally made it to Boston and start getting settled there. But working with Joel isn't as straightforward as it might seem, he is not the same man he once was. And he shares a trauma with Frankie, who isn't as stable as he might seem.

Series Master List

Chapter 30 - Warnings have their own post - Word count: 10.7k

Seriously, fuck Boston winters. You were not made for this kind of weather, no one was made for this kind of weather. You’re grumling under your breath as you stomp your feet in a futile effort to bring life back to your toes. Five Massachusett winters and you’re still no closer to getting used to them, despite all the layers you wrap yourself in during the colder months. The north easterly winds that rushed in off the Atlantic seemed to seep through both clothes and flesh and chill your bones. The bar you were waiting by hadn't opened yet, the owner, a prickly middle aged woman, was late for some reason, leaving you and a few other patrons shivering outside the door. Your plan had been to go straight from work and meet Frankie at the bar, trade a couple of ration cards for hot stew and maybe a whiskey. Frankie was due back from a trade with Joel and Tommy and you needed to talk to them about a special trade. They hadn’t been outside the wall, just another part of the QZ, to trade with someone who’d managed to get hold of actual pre-outbreak cigarettes, a very valuable commodity these days. 

Five years have passed since you all came to Boston. The six guys had built up a solid smuggling network, and you’d stepped aside. You still hated Frankie leaving to go outside the wall, it didn’t happen often these days, but even inside the walls, trading was risky business. But you kept quiet about it, and Frankie never brought it up. You just told him to be careful when he left, told him to come back to you and he always assured you he would. He didn’t always come back in one piece though, several times they’d come back with cuts and bruises and broken knuckles. Both Pope and Benny had even been shot, not fatally, but enough to chill your blood when you saw them stumble in. A stark reminder that even inside the walls, people had guns and were willing to kill for a trade. 

But the four former Delta Force guys, with the addition of Joel and Tommy, instilled fear in the QZ. People had learnt the hard way to not double cross or cheat them, the retribution swift and hard when someone tried to go against them. Pope had taken unofficial leadership, but it was Joel, and Tommy, who did most of the heavy lifting. Pope’s charm had always worked to convince people that he could be trusted to trade with, so he took on the role of negotiator and dealmaker. Joel, on the other hand, seemed to have lost all his charm and charisma in the years after the outbreak, and was always the first to volunteer for runs outside the walls. You often wondered if he had a death wish with the way he so willingly did the riskiest missions and how dark his mind has gotten since the death of Sarah. It had become clear to you all that Joel wasn’t the same man he was before the outbreak. Will, who’d obviously known Joel a lot better than you had, sometimes talked to you about Joel before the outbreak. He was worried about the older man’s mood, and how he sometimes used alcohol and pills to get through the night. The death of Sarah had broken the man and left him to survive, and nothing more. But neither Will, nor Benny, knew how to get through to him. And Tommy had given up, he followed Joel’s lead and did what his older brother told him. It was clear that they’d had five very rough years since the outbreak when you met them again.  

You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought about the relationship that had sprung up between Frankie and Joel. Tommy went where Joel went and Joel often asked Frankie to come too, along with one of the other Miller brothers. You knew Frankie was a follower, not a natural leader, and when he went on missions with only Tommy and Joel, Joel took charge. On their latest run outside the wall, they’d been gone a lot longer than usual. It’d been a trade with a community two days hike away and they’d been delayed, returning only after a week. You’d been frantic with worry, pacing Pope’s living room while he did his best to calm you. You’d had your bag packed, planning on going after them the very next day, when Frankie finally came back. He’d been exhausted, dirty and partially covered in blood, but unharmed and confident. The blood wasn’t his, it belonged to raiders that had attempted to take them on and suffered the consequences. When you saw Joel a couple of days later at the bar, he’d clapped Frankie over the back and praised him for the efficiency with which he dealt with the raiders.

“You dropped that first guy before I even had time to blink!” Joel had said, even a small satisfied grin pushing through on the usually scowling man’s face. “And it was a genius move to make them lead us to their stash, gave us a lot of extra supplies.”

When you’d asked Frankie later that evening how they’d made the raiders give up the information, he’d been unwilling to talk about it, only mumbling that he’d used an old military tactic. But the amount of blood on his clothes made you uneasy, and your unease grew when Joel praised Frankie’s ability to ‘handle things’ the next time they’d come back from a trade in another part of the QZ. Frankie’s knuckles had been bruised for a week afterwards. 

And worst of all, Frankie’s nightmares were getting worse again and you started to see the signs of his PTSD flaring up. It had never been really gone, he always had darker days or periods of nightmares, but since Arlington, and Herb’s work, it’d been under control. Frankie had tools to deal with it and knew when to talk to you about it. But now his nightmares were reoccurring again. He’d come back from a run with Joel and Tommy and be in a confident, elated mood, but then nightmares would inevitably wake you both up in the following nights. When you asked him about it, what triggered them, he would brush it off, say it was only flashbacks to the earliest days of the outbreak, that he was fine. And at first the nightmares had receded after a few days, but then it took longer and longer. The last time he came back, the nightmares had plagued him every night for over a month and his mood had become very dark. No matter how much you tried to coax him to talk to you, or to one of the guys, to remind him of the tools he had, he remained sullen and withdrawn. He hadn’t been back to normal for over six months now and you were worried. You were about to ask him to stop working with Joel, but you needed them to do one last run for you, a special favor for a good man. 

When you decided to step away from the smuggling, after Joel demanded that you and Frankie didn’t work together because of Frankie’s protectiveness of you, you’d looked around for another job that didn’t entail sewages or latrines. By luck you’d met an elderly man, an old college professor from MIT. You’d seen him struggling with the broken zipper of his winter coat one day when you were both assigned to cleaning out a previously condemned building. You’d become pretty adept at fixing clothes, button holes, broken zippers and had helped him by reattaching the zipper so that he could close the coat again. As a thank you, he offered you time on the amateur radio he’d built, using parts from the MIT campus. You had no one special to contact, you didn’t know where your parents or brothers were, even if they were alive, so you asked if Pope could use the radio time to set up trades. The old man, Sean, had agreed to it, and over the  years you spent more and more time with him. He’d taught you how to work the radio, even how to repair it and build smaller radio units, and now, a few years later, you worked the radio with him every day. 

Sean was a good man, old enough when the outbreak happened to not let the brutality of the new world affect who he was. He saw kindness in almost everyone he met and would dole out favors to anyone, irrespective of them being able to repay him or not. He was probably taken advantage of more times than he cared to admit, and you often stepped in to stop people from abusing his kindness. Your connection to Frankie and the rest of the smugglers made sure no one was willing to get on your bad side and now that expanded to Sean and his radio business too. And the more you saw of Sean’s willingness to selflessly help people, the more protective of him you became. 

Now, as you stood stomping your feet outside the still closed bar, you thought back to the conversation you’d had with him yesterday. Everyone in Sean’s family had lived in Boston before the outbreak but, like for most of you, almost everyone in his family had been lost in those first chaotic days and weeks. Sean had been having dinner with his son that fateful Friday night and together they had managed to survive, but everyone else had been lost. Sean never found out what happened to his wife and second son, lost somewhere in the city when chaos erupted. Sean and his son had been in the Boston QZ since the beginning, and after some time, his son had met a woman and fallen in love. A couple of years later they had a son, Sean’s first grandchild. But the birth had been complicated and without access to most of modern medicine, the mother had passed away. A few years later, Sean’s son had taken a wrong turn while on patrol with FEDRA and been infected, leaving Sean as the young boy's only caretaker. The boy, Liam, named after his lost uncle, was Sean’s heart and probably the most spoiled boy in the entire QZ, Sean couldn’t deny him a thing. 

Sean had come in yesterday afternoon, to take over the next shift on the radio, and he’d been uncharacteristically late. 

“Liam’s really ill,” he said, stopping in the doorway of the small radio room. He looked ashen and disheveled. Liam had come down with the flu a week ago but instead of getting better after a while, his fever had spiked. Sean had asked you to cover for him yesterday so that he could go home and care for the boy. He’d traded a large stack of ration cards for pills that were hopefully the expired Advil the man trading claimed they were. 

“The pills didn’t do anything and now Dr. Mason says he’s got bacterial pneumonia.” Sean’s eyes had been red rimmed and watery, “He needs antibiotics or he might…” the old man’s voice broke as he repressed a sob but he waved a dismissive hand at you when you stood up. 

“I hate to ask, I know how much you hate the danger Frankie puts himself in when he goes outside the wall,” Sean had said, stuffing his hands deep in the pockets of his knitted cardigan, ever the college professor. “But is there any way they could get proper antibiotics for Liam? Could you ask?” 

You had no choice, this was why you still accepted the danger the smuggling entailed. FEDRA simply didn’t supply enough of what people needed and the chances of getting antibiotics from them were minute. Any medicine FEDRA owned was hoarded and reserved for their officers and higher ups in the makeshift government that governed the country. Smuggling was the only way ordinary people could get hold of supplies that could save a sick child or relative. As much as you hated Frankie putting himself on the line, what he and the other guys did made a difference in the QZ. 

...

Outside the bar, the line is getting long. But Liz, the bar owner, finally shows up, grumbling about a FEDRA check point, and opens up. It’s an old building and it thankfully has a large open fireplace in the center of the long back wall. While Liz gets the kitchen going, you help out and start the fire. The warmth it spreads thaws out your toes as you grab the seats closest to it and start peeling off your layers. 

It’s not long before Frankie turns up together with Joel and Tommy. He comes straight over to you while Joel and Tommy head for the bar. 

“Hey, mi hermosa,” Frankie smiles as he sinks down next to you on the couch. His lips are cold when he kisses you, bringing a cloud of cold air with him. “I’m freezing, I need thicker socks I think.” 

“Hi Frankie,” you say, cupping his red cheeks with your hands, warming him up. Despite his darker moods, he’s managed to hold on to the softer parts of himself when he’s with you and now that he’s back after a long day in the cold, he wants to do nothing else but pull you onto his lap so that he can wrap himself in your bubble. But you’re still in public, in the bar, so he limits himself to putting his arm over your shoulder and pulling you into his side, soaking up the warmth of the fire. 

“How did the trade go?” you ask, Frankie’s cold fingers caressing the back of your neck, slowly warming up against your skin. 

“It went well, he didn’t have as many cigarettes as he claimed over the radio, but we traded for what he had, made him give us a discount since we had to go all the way over there and then he didn’t have the amount he promised,” Frankie shrugs, “we didn’t even have to threaten him, I think our reputation preceded us.” 

“Yeah, you guys have a pretty violent reputation by now,” you mumble, rubbing your thumb over the many scars on Frankie’s hands, his knuckles crisscrossed by thin white and pink lines. Frankie opens his mouth as if to say something but Joel and Tommy are coming over, drinks in hand, and he stands up instead. 

“I’ll get us some food, cariño. Do you want whiskey too?” 

“Thanks Frankie, food sounds good, but get me a tea if Liz has it,” you smile at him as stops in his tracks and bends down to kiss you instead, his lips warm now.

“Coming right up, amor.” 

Joel and Tommy occupy the two armchairs opposite the couch and Tommy lets out a deep sigh as he stretches out his legs and lean backs. 

“Fuck me it was cold out there today, this god damn winter is never ending,” he grumbles, taking a deep sip of the whiskey in his hand. 

“How’s the radio, any good information?” Joel asks you. Despite not getting off to the best start when you first met again, and Joel’s less than sunny disposition these days, he’s pretty decent. You supply the guys with a lot of useful information and Joel seems to respect that. And as long as Frankie’s protective streak doesn’t compromise their safety while trading and smuggling, Joel seems to appreciate how important you are to Frankie. Although, that might have more to do with how it contributes to the success of the missions. Joel had once said he appreciated how Frankie would always make sure he could get back to you and that included making watertight plans and covering every angle when they went out. ‘He fights like hell to get back to you, darlin’, and he ain’t letting nothing get in the way of that’, Joel had told you while clapping Frankie on the back after a particularly gruesome expedition outside the walls. 

Now the older Texan looks over at you from the brim of his whiskey glass and raises his eyebrows in question. 

“I’ve got some good leads,” you reply, “but I’ve got a special request I need to ask you about when Frankie gets back. It might require a bit more than usual.” 

“As long as it pays well, I’m alright with that,” Joel says and looks over at Tommy who nods along. 

“Is it a dangerous run?” he asks, leaning forward on his knees. 

“I don’t know, depends on where you can get hold of what I need,” you reply, looking up at Frankie who’s returning with two bowls, two mugs of tea and cornbread on a tray. 

“What do you need?” he asks, sitting back down and you gratefully grab your bowl. 

“Antibiotics,” you reply, “And I know it’s hard to come by the real stuff, but it’s for Sean’s grandson. Liam’s got bacterial pneumonia and Sean says he’s really ill. He needs it fast too.” 

Joel looks over at Frankie and nods, “There’s that guy who said he’d meet us in Concord, he was trading all sorts of medicine.” 

“Pope and Will said no to that one though,” Frankie says, digging into the stew. 

“Yeah, but this is different, if Sean’s kid needs medicine, and this guy can supply it, we need to trade with him,” Joel interjects, looking at you as if to make you convince Frankie. 

“Why doesn’t Will and Pope want to trade with him?” you ask Frankie and he shrugs while he swallows.

“I don’t know, I wasn’t there for that decision.” 

“I’ll talk to Pope,” Joel volunteers, “and plan the run, it’s a six hour hike to Concord. What do you think Sean is willing to trade in return?” 

“Anything,” you say, “I mean, it’s Liam, he’ll give up his own life to save his grandson. But I don’t wanna ask him for anything extra just because he’s desperate, that’s now how we do it.” 

“No, that’s fine,” Joel replies, downing the last of the whiskey and putting the glass on the table, “The guy in Concord had a lot to trade, we’ll be able to bring in extra supplies and make a lot in the QZ as it is.” He gets to his feet and shrugs his jacket back on, “I’ll go see Pope straight away, get this planned seeing as we wanna get the meds to Sean quickly.” 

“Thanks, Joel, I appreciate it,” you reply and Joel puts his hand on your shoulder as he steps past the couch. 

“Of course, darlin’, Sean’s been a good friend over the years, we need to help him out. I’ll see you guys later but be prepared to head out tomorrow morning.” The last thing he directs at Tommy and Frankie before he disappears out of the door. 

“Well, if we’re heading out tomorrow morning, I’d better go see Louise,” Tommy sighs and pushes himself up, “I might be in the dog house.” He gives the two of you a wave and leaves. Louise was his latest ‘on again - off again’ girlfriend. Tommy seemed to attract women easily, but keeping them was more problematic. Louise and him have been on again now for a couple of weeks after a very public break up three months ago. 

“Let me know if we’re heading out,” Frankie calls after him and Tommy raises his hand in acknowledgment. 

“Joel was very eager to help out Sean,” you say, “I haven’t seen him be so quick to go on a run unless it was something really extra.” Joel was a ruthless smuggler, you paid what the item was worth to Joel, and nothing less. You’d never seen him do a favor for anyone except maybe Tommy. 

“I think he’s keen to have a reason to go to Concord. Pope said the guy was willing to trade a lot of good stuff.” Frankie put the bowl back on the table and grabbed his tea mug, leaning back he pulled you into him so that his chin rested on your shoulder. “Maybe Pope didn’t think the journey up there was worth it, but it should be now.”

“Not like Pope to say no to a good trade though, the route must be really difficult,” you say, sipping your own tea. You were warm all the way through now, your toes toasty and your muscles felt loose. Leaning into Frankie, he bumps his nose along your cheek, dragging it up to your temple before he presses his lips against your hair. 

“We’ll be gone at least one night,” he mumbles, “are you gonna be ok on your own? You could always go stay with Diana or Eve.” 

Diana was Will’s girlfriend, Eve was Benny’s. Benny had met Eve pretty soon after getting to Boston, there was some story about Benny stepping in to help her carry a kitchen chair up two flights of stairs. She’d yelled at him for presuming she couldn’t handle herself and somehow, Benny fell in love with the tiny redheaded woman with a fierce temper. The big blonde man had followed her around like a puppy for a week before you’d stepped in and talked him up to her, telling her what a great friend he was and how you’d trust him with your life. Once he got a chance, she fell for him hard and the two of them moved in together after just a couple of months. He still followed her around like a puppy and it put a grin on your face every time you saw them together.. 

Will had met Diana while both of them were on probably the roughest duty in the whole QZ, the incinerator. Once you were all safe in Boston, Will’s guilt over Hannah had caught up with him and he’d tumbled head first into depression. Not even Benny could get through to him and Will sought out the most gruesome tasks, working long shifts and falling into bed each night. He worked with the other guys on the smuggling runs, but became even more quiet than usual, going along with what Pope and Joel agreed on. He wasn’t self destructive like Joel, he just didn’t care about anything it seemed. But then he met Diana, both of them regularly signing up for the incinerator. 

Diana had lost her husband and two young daughters when Providence fell, she was one of very few survivors that made it to Boston. Together, Will and Diana worked alongside each other for the better part of a year before they started talking. Once the dam broke, they found comfort and solace in the other person's strength and together they managed to see something other than the darkness that had surrounded them. It took them a long time to move from friendship to lovers but once they did, the old Will gradually came back and he started resembling the man you knew from before the outbreak. Will had been sharing an apartment with Pope ever since coming to Boston, but six months ago he’d moved in with Diana. And when Benny, Will and Frankie were away on smuggling runs, you, Diana and Eve often stayed together. Facing the long nights that they were gone was easier when you had the two other women around. 

“I’ll invite them over,” you say, “if you’re only gone one night I can manage.” 

Frankie pulls you in closer, his lips finding your cheek, “I’ll make sure we come back after one night, you know I can’t stay away from you for even that long.” The tone of his voice, and the way the tip of his tongue comes out to taste the skin he’d just kissed, made a different kind of heat flare up inside you. 

“I need to shower, hermosa,” he mumbles, his teeth finding your earlobe, “why don’t you join me?” The way his warm breath tickles your ear makes you shiver with pleasure and Frankie chuckles, pushing you away from him so that you both can stand up.

“C’mon, baby, I’m taking you home.” 

...

At some point during the evening, Pope slid a note under the front door for you to find when you come back out of the bedroom to get a glass of water. The note gave a coded time and place for Frankie to meet the others. Will was going with them it seemed and Pope must’ve stopped by after Frankie had pulled you into the bedroom. You hadn’t heard a thing, but then, Frankie had been busy making you whimper with the way his tongue teased between your legs. Now you were in bed, wrapped up in the comforter, while Frankie repacked his bag for the early morning start the next day. 

“I’ll see if I can trade for some thicker socks for you while you’re away,” you say, reminded by his complaint when you watch him pull out an extra pair of woolen socks from the wardrobe. “Cathy, down by the mess hall, she’s always keen to trade for cigarettes.” 

“I’m surprised she has any clothes left, she trades everything to get smokes,” Frankie says, checking his gun and ammo. 

“I think she has some sort of connection with FEDRA, she trades children’s clothes too.” You roll over on your belly and stretch, a big yawn escaping you. “I saw weird graffiti today, by the way,” you say, “A red fly. Ed was cleaning it off the wall and said it belonged to some group who call themselves ‘The Fireflies’. Have you heard of them?” you ask. 

“No, what kind of group are they?” Frankie’s done packing and you lift the comforter to let him back into the bed. 

“Ed said they’d been spraying their logo all over the QZ just these past two days, but he didn’t know why. Maybe it’s some sort of protest? FEDRA isn’t too bad here, not compared to Arlington, but people are unhappy with the rations and the curfews.” 

“I hope they don’t try to rock the boat, we don’t want a repeat of Arlington,” he shuffles around, puffing the pillow up under his head before turning to you. “C’mere, you’re too far away,” he smiles, hooking his arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest so that you’re tucked in under his arm. “Need you to heat me up enough to stay warm when I have to sleep in some cold house tomorrow night.” 

“Don’t say that, Frankie,” you mumble into his chest, “I hate the thought of you sleeping in the cold out there.” 

“Don’t worry, I’m used to it, and thinking of you really keeps me warm,” he mumbles, you can feel his lips against your temple as he lets his fingers rake through your hair. “Sleep now, amor. Te amo.” 

“Love you too, Frankie, sleep well.” 

...

You make breakfast for Frankie and Pope the next morning, feeding them fresh arepas filled with the last of some leftover chicken and a couple of fried eggs. As usual when you send them off outside the wall you’re quiet and jumpy. You feel like you don’t want to stop touching Frankie, keeping your hand on his leg while you both eat in silence. He knows where your head’s at on mornings like this and you can feel his eyes on you while you both get ready. When it’s time for them to leave to meet the others, Pope leaves first and lets you say goodbye to Frankie. He pulls you in and you wrap your arms around his waist underneath his winter coat, leaning your forehead against his chest. His arms come around you and you feel his breath on your cheek when he leans his head on your shoulder. 

“Come back safe, Frankie, or I’m coming after you.” 

“I know, cariño, but I’ll come back, I promise,” he whispers, his arms squeezing tight around you as your feet almost leave the floor. He gently puts you back down and cups your cheeks, pressing warm lips against yours. You let his tongue slip in, just for a few seconds, to taste him and feel how he tries to get you even closer. When he pulls back he brushes the tip of his nose along yours. “Stay safe while I’m gone, hermosa, I’ll be back soon.” 

“Stay safe, Frankie.” 

And then he’s gone. You close the door, always a feeling of loss when you know he’s leaving the QZ and the apartment feels empty. The only way to keep sane when he’s gone, is to stay busy. 

Your day is filled with people, a long line waiting to send messages through the radio. Sean is at home with Liam so you work the whole day, right up until when your unofficial office closes. You haven’t told Sean about the attempt at getting medicine for Liam, just in case things don’t work out. You count the ration cards you’ve collected, along with some other bits and pieces you deemed valuable enough to accept, cigarettes, dried beef and, as if by providence, a pair of extra thick wool socks in Frankie’s size. You pack those into your bag along with the beef, and lock up the rest of the items and ration cards in the hidden safe. 

You make your way over to Benny and Eve’s place and find Diana already there. She somehow looks like Will’s opposite but also exactly the same, as dark skinned as he is fair but with the same thoughtful, quiet demeanor and measured movements. She’s almost as tall as him and almost as muscular, when you saw them together it made perfect sense. But when you first met her she seemed so different from Hannah that you wondered if it was only convenience that brought the two of them close. But now that you knew her better, you saw that she had the same protective qualities that Hannah had. Even if she couldn’t collect strays the way Hannah did, she always had an eye out for people who needed extra help, especially children. And although Will and Diana were never as affectionate in public as Benny and Eve, or Frankie and  you, it was clear that they loved each other and that it was a lot more than just something convenient. The sheer change in Will was evidence enough, he seemed happier than you’d ever seen him since the outbreak. 

Eve pulls you in for a warm hug when you come through the door. She’s Benny’s polar opposite, a tiny girl with vivid red hair and a strong Irish accent. She’d been an exchange student in Boston when the outbreak happened and simply got stuck. She’d survived through sheer luck, locking herself in her dorm with two other students when it all broke out. She’d endured the following ten years by relying on herself alone and it had given her a hard exterior shell, coupled with a fiery temper you’d previously thought only was a myth but you were now starting to believe there was some truth behind it. But Benny had been taken in by her instantly, and even though it had taken her a bit longer to warm up to Benny’s golden retriever energy, there was no mistaking how devoted she was to him now. 

The two women sometimes made you wonder who you would’ve turned into if Frankie hadn’t been by your side, if you’d have to fend for yourself all these years. You were pretty sure you would’ve died in the outbreak, or been infected, which was pretty much the same thing. You didn’t even know where you would’ve gone if you hadn’t known Frankie and by extension, not known Denny and his cabin. If you’d survived you thought you’d probably just stay in the Arlington QZ and then die when it fell.

You tried not to think about life before the outbreak too much, and people seldom mentioned it these days. It was too painful for most of you. You always wished you’d had more time with Frankie before the outbreak, that one year of normality you’d had didn’t seem enough. But like you’d told him before, you’d rather be with him and live in this post-apocalyptic world, than not be with him at all. Life without Frankie was impossible to imagine but when he was away, like now, those thoughts were a bit too close to the surface. And you knew Diana and Eve felt the same way when Benny and Will were gone, so you sought out each other’s company for comfort and distraction. 

Today it was Will and Frankie that were away, Benny and Pope remained behind. There was a rule among the four Delta Force guys, to never leave all four at once. At least one of them, usually two, stayed behind. It wasn’t as patriarchal as ‘male protection’, it was about safety in numbers. Should something happen while the others were away, either to those still in the QZ or those on the outside, both groups had safety in numbers. You also knew, although that was more unspoken, that it meant a large enough group remained for a rescue party, should the group outside the QZ not return. It had never come to that yet, but it had been close a couple of times. 

Once you got your boots off and got a hug from Benny and Diana, you sunk down on the couch, inhaling the scent from the kitchen. 

What are you cooking, Eve? That smells amazing!” you exclaim, inhaling again to get a better whiff of the meaty aroma. 

“You’ll never believe this, it’s pork!” the redhead squeals, “Benny got me a new winter coat, and I traded the old one for three whole pounds of pork!” 

A few years ago FEDRA had sent an expedition out to gather as much livestock as possible. Most of the animals had starved to death, there just wasn’t enough feed. But chickens and pigs could live fairly well off scraps and although the pig population was small, sometimes pork made its way onto the market. 

Now you pushed yourself off your feet and went to the kitchen to peer into Eve’s big stew pot. Big chunks of pork simmered slowly in a thick stock and as you stir it your mouth waters. 

“I can't wait to try this, it smells amazing.” 

“Soon! Needs another half an hour, now shoo!,” Eve replies with a smile and waves you away from the stove and back to the couch as Pope knocks and walks through the front door. 

“Fuck! That smells so fucking good, Eve!” he calls the second he steps through the door and Eve laughs, everyone was getting excited by the pork. 

“Anything good on the radio today, hermana?” Pope asks you as he sinks down next to you on the couch and gives you a hug from the side. 

“Nothing major, some updates. But I talked to that Frank guy again. His partner is not the trusting kind but maybe with time we can work something out.” 

“Do you know where they’re based?” Benny asks, he’s putting down cutlery and bowls on the coffee table in front of you. 

“No, he hasn’t said yet, I think he’s still wary. But he knows I’m in Boston, I told him as a way to show trust. And I didn’t mention that any trade would be with at least four big ex Delta Force men…” you shoot a crooked grin at Benny who most definitely could look very intimidating when he wanted too. 

“Yeah, that’s probably a detail left to the end,” Benny chuckles and sits down on the other side. 

“Do you know what they were going out for today?” Diana asks, “I came home so late last night and Will didn’t have time to tell me this morning,” she’s looking over at Pope who nods. 

“Yeah, antibiotics for Sean’s grandkid Liam, he’s very sick.” 

“They’re doing it as a favor to me really,” you say, “but Joel seemed pretty keen, he said the guy had a lot more to trade than just antibiotics.” 

“That’s good, if it’s more medicine it might be a chance to bring some much needed supplies to the clinic.” Diana works at a small, volunteer run, medical clinic. It was the only place to get health care that didn’t involve FEDRA’s unjust priority system of hoarding anything useful for their officers. The clinic gave supplies to those who needed it most, FEDRA or not. 

“We’ve been out of antibiotics for over a year and we’re running low on almost all our stock,” she says. “I’ll ask Will to set up a trade with the clinic, we could use so much.” 

Eve calls you all over to serve yourself from the pot and soon you’re all silent around the coffee table, humming over the stew. You all eat your fill but there’s plenty left and Eve ladles some into containers and gives one to you and one to Diana. . 

“Give them to your men when they’re back, they’ll need warming up after a night out in this weather.” 

During the afternoon it had started to snow and now it’s coming down thick, the stubborn Massachusetts winter wasn’t ready to give up yet even though it was already March. When you leave Eve and Benny’s apartment with Pope and Diana the heavy snowflakes have coated the dirty streets, giving the neighborhood a Christmas-like feel. You shiver despite your warm coat, looking up at the sky and hoping that Frankie and Will are inside a good shelter at least, maybe even somewhere where they can light a fire. 

Pope and you walk Diana home and then hurry through the streets and make it back just before curfew begins. Pope has moved up to your floor, but in a smaller apartment now, and as you get to his door he holds it open for you. 

“Do you wanna come in? Frankie said you might need some company.” 

“Thanks Santi, that sounds nice, I’m not ready to face the empty apartment yet,” you say and accept his invitation gratefully. 

“I’ll get us some whiskey, make yourself comfortable,” he says and kicks his boots off and you do the same. You sink down into the corner of his couch as he brings out a bottle and two glasses. 

“Before the outbreak, I never drank whiskey,” you say as he hands you a glass, “now I feel like it’s all I drink, to calm down, to celebrate, to warm up. And I don’t even like it that much.” 

“Good think you know some pretty resourceful smugglers then,” Santi chuckles and occupies the other corner. He sips his drink and his expression changes, the light smile that had tugged at the corner of his mouth slips away and he looks concerned. 

“I wanted to talk to you about Frankie,” he says, his eyes lifting from the glass to meet yours. “His PTSD is flaring up, isn’t it?” 

You nod and sigh, “What did you notice?” 

“He’s been more tired than usual lately, almost fell asleep while we were keeping watch for a trade and he said it was just a bad night but I know him better than that.” Santi says, “And it’s his mood, Frankie’s not a chatty guy at the best of times but now he’s really quiet, if he’s not snapping at people, even telling Benny to back the fuck off and flaring up over nothing.” 

You tilt your head back and sigh again, deeper this time. You’d seen the changes in him for months but you didn’t realize it had gotten that bad, he was good at hiding it around you since you didn’t go out on runs with them.

“I’d like him to stop smuggling,” you say, looking back at Santi, “at least the runs outside the QZ or any of the more dangerous trades on the inside, the nightmares get worse when he’s been outside or had to do something violent.” 

“I can try to get him away from outside runs, the problem is Joel. He seems to favor working with Frankie and wants him on every run, he seems to trust him the most.” 

“Joel doesn’t get to decide who goes or who doesn’t,” you scowl, brow wrinkled, “Frankie’s more important than the smuggling.” 

Santi nods, rubbing his hand over the thick beard he’s grown, “I agree, and there’s another reason why I think Frankie shouldn’t go on runs with Joel,” he says, staring at the amber liquid rather than you and falls silent for a few seconds while you look at him, waiting for him to continue. 

“Joel’s…methods, or whatever you wanna call them, might bring out a side in Frankie I haven’t seen since our army days,” Santi says, sitting up a bit straighter and leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, “We did some fucked up stuff, you know that, even though we never shared the details with you.” 

“Frankie’s nightmares told me enough about that, yeah,” you say and Santi nods. 

“I haven’t been out on a run that’s gone bad in a long time but, here and there, I hear things about what Joel gets up to, when he’s out with Tommy and Frankie, that’s got me worried. Benny mentioned something and Joel let something slip once.” 

“What do you mean, Santi?” you say, anxiously leaning forwards too and he sighs.

“Joel’s very good at violence, and I think he’s bringing that side out in Frankie too. But I’m not sure,” he adds quickly as he sees your horrified expression, “but I think it would do Frankie good to not work so closely with Joel.” 

You can feel your chest constricting, unable to sit still you nervously twist your hands together around the glass “Santi, please, whatever you do, make sure Frankie stops going on runs with him,” you plead, your voice wobbly as tears spring up. Santi moves across the couch and holds out his arms for you.

“Come here, hermana, I promise, I’ll get him to stay behind,” he pulls you in for a hug and you gratefully accept his arms around you, sniffling into his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he says, cupping the back of your head with his hand, “I shouldn’t have brought this up now, especially not with Frankie away,” he says, rubbing your back. 

“No, it’s good you told me, I need to know, or I can’t do anything about it,” you push back a bit from Santi and rub your wet eyes. Santi lets go of you and grabs a handkerchief from the side table behind the couch.

“Here, it’s clean,” he offers it to you.

“Thanks, fuck,” you sigh, “I’m such a cryer, you’d think I’d be tougher after ten years in the fucking apocalypse.” 

“You love Frankie,” Santi says and gives you a small smile, “and when he has issues I think you’re allowed to cry as much as you want. And I’ll try to talk to him, get him to stop doing runs for a while, I’ll tell him you’re worried about him, he’ll do anything for you.” 

“Thanks Santi,” you sigh and gratefully accept the glass he holds up, taking a small sip. 

“Do you wanna stay here tonight? I’ll sleep on the couch, you can take the bed.” 

You shake your head, “No, I know what you get up to in that bed, the walls are not that thick, but thanks for the offer.” You smile at him as he chuckles and looks mock offended. 

“I change the sheets, you know.” 

“Corny as it sounds, I wanna sleep on Frankie’s pillow, it smells like him,” you say as you get up and reach for your boots, “Makes me sleep better when he’s gone.” 

Santi smiles and pulls you in for another hug as you stand up, “I’m glad I made him go ask for your number, he’s lucky to have you.” 

“Thanks, Santi,” you wrap your arms around him and give him a big squeeze, “I’m lucky to have both of you in my life, don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

“Probably have less sex,” he quips with a grin, “like you say, the walls are not that thick.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you slap his shoulder and laugh. “Sleep well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sleep well, and you know where I am if you need company, just come over.” 

...

It’s not very late the next evening when you hear Frankie come through the door, his heavy pack dropping on the floor as you step out from the kitchen. He looks cold and wet, and he gives you a tired smile as you wrap your arms around him. 

“Walking in the snow was fucking exhausting,” he grumbles, his cold face tucked against the crook of your neck. “Is there hot water? I really need a shower.” 

“Plenty, I didn’t shower yet - fuck!,” you squeal as Frankie’s cold fingers find their way under your sweater, “your hands are so cold!”

“Sorry, but you’re just so soft and warm, hermosa,” he mumbles, pulling you closer and you feel the melting snow on his jacket starting to seep through your clothes. 

“Get your clothes off, Frankie boy, I’ll warm up the shower for you,” you giggle as he tries to slide his cold hands down your trousers. “Get off me,” you grin, pushing him away as he disobeys and grabs your ass with two icy hands. 

“Only if you shower with me,” he chuckles and you wiggle his hands out of your trousers and start pushing his jacket off.

“Did you get the antibiotics?” you ask as you hang it up to dry behind him.

“Yeah, Will took it to Sean straight away. It was expired but I remember Dr. Mason saying most antibiotics are fine even fifteen years after they’ve expired so I hope they work for Liam.” 

“Thanks for going out for them, Frankie, it really means a lot.” Frankie comes into the bathroom with you and sinks down on the toilet seat as you turn on the shower. The water is slow to warm up but it’ll get hot soon enough.

“Sean’s a good man and he’s helped us many times with the radio,” he says, letting you help him undress. Now that he's under the bright bathroom light you can see the dark circles under his eyes, he looks dead on his feet. You unbutton his thick flannel, peeling the layers off him and ushering him into the shower when he tries tugging at your sweater. 

“Get warm first, Frankie,” you smile, pinching his cold butt as he steps in, earning you a growl that turns into a full body shudder as the warm water hits him. 

“Fuck that’s good,” he groans, dropping his head down onto his chest with a deep sigh. 

You stay together in the shower until the warm water runs out and then you drag Frankie to bed with you, only getting up to bring Eve’s leftovers to him. Once he’s eaten he pulls you in close, his hard cock grinding against your hip while he dips his thick fingers into you, swallowing down your moans as you seek out his mouth. When he’s made you come you push him onto his back, straddling his narrow hips and sinking down over his hard cock. His eyes are half closed, head tilted back on to the pillow and you can feel his fingers digging bruises into your hips while he groans under you. He comes hard, with a loud shout, and pulls you down over him as he grinds his hips into you, burying himself deep. He’s almost asleep by the time you untangle yourself from his arms and go to clean up. When you come back he’s softly snoring and he only wakes up enough to wrap his arm around you when you pull the comforter over the both of you.

“Love you,” he mumbles, half asleep, into your neck. 

“Love you to, Frankie,” you whisper, taking his hand on your chest and pulling it closer. 

...

Will comes by the radio office the next day, just before you close up. His big frame feels even bigger inside the small office and the kitchen chair in the corner creaks under his weight as he sits down. The young girl who’s sitting on her mother’s lap gives him a wide eyed stare as the mother dictates a message to you. You can’t help but giggle at the girl’s astonished face as Will gives her a small finger wave and a smile. 

“You need to work on your charm, Will,” you say to him as the girl and her mother have left and you’ve closed the door to the radio room. 

“I must look old and scary,” he chuckles and swaps seats so that he’s in front of your desk instead. “I dropped off the meds to Sean last night, he gave them to Liam straight away.” 

“Frankie told me, and I stopped by there on my way here this morning, Liam’s already doing better. Dr. Mason says his fever broke just before dawn.” 

“That’s great to hear, then our run was worth it,” Will leans back in the chair, running his hand through his hair and sighs, “I need to talk to you about Frankie though.” 

“You too? Pope said the same thing when you guys were away, about Frankie’s PTSD getting worse.” 

“Yeah, he said he was gonna talk to you about it, but this is about something else, although I’m pretty sure it’s connected to his PTSD.” Will replies and crosses his arms, you recognise the look on his face, the way he collects his thoughts before he speaks. 

“When we met up with the guy,” he says eventually, locking eyes with you, “he had a pretty good stash of medicine to trade, but when we asked about antibiotics, he said he didn’t want to trade them for what we were offering. He had some other guy near Worcester who would pay more, more than what we had on us. We tried talking him into accepting our offer but he refused. So I did the trade with him for the other stuff, still trying to persuade him, telling him about Liam and how it would save his life but the guy refused.” Will pauses and shakes his head, “Frankie lost it, he lashed out, punched the guy and threatened to gouge out his eye if he didn’t take us to his supplies. Frankie had his knife out, the point next to the guys eye and Joel was telling him to do it, it was fucking close.” 

You shudder, you’ve seen Frankie be violent when needed, but you’d never seen him threaten anyone like that, even though you realized he was capable of it. Will is still looking at you, pausing his story when you pulled back, now you nod at him to continue. 

“I was trying to calm things down, the guy was panicking, I was worried he’d do something stupid. And Frankie was not thinking straight, his hands were shaking, he nicked the guy's cheek with his trembling. And the guy caved, took us to his stash, it wasn’t far, and traded us for the antibiotics. Frankie kept talking about how you need them for Sean, to save Liam, that Liam deserves to live because Sean is a good man. I got worried, Frankie wasn’t on top of things, I’ve seen him slip before, towards the end of our time serving together, and that’s where he was now, his headspace was not good.” 

“Do you think something triggered him specifically?” you ask and Will shakes his head. 

“No, just all of it, the stress and danger of being outside the wall and the need to get meds for Liam. But Joel didn’t help, I’ve talked Frankie back from this kind of situation a couple of times but Joel was pushing it. Yelling at the guy, telling Frankie to get closer, it was fucked up, I had to step in and pull Frankie off the guy.” 

Will crosses his arms again and lets out a deep sigh, “Joel’s changed, we know that, it’s like he doesn’t give a fuck about anyone, apart from maybe Tommy. But he's inadvertently getting inside Frankie’s head too, picking at the worst parts of the soldier version of Frankie. And since you’re the only person Frankie really cares about,” Will raises his hand as you begin to protest, “It’s true, I’m not saying Frankie doesn’t care about the rest of us, but you are everything to him, without you, he has nothing, and you know that. And Joel’s particular brand of personal hell is seeping into Frankie and activating behaviors that I thought were long gone..”

“Fuck, Will…” you sigh, sinking down in your chair, looking over at him with worry, “Frankie can’t go out anymore, he just can’t:” 

“I know, that’s what I was thinking too. But there’s more, unfortunately, “ Will says with a grimace, “The guy had oxy to trade and I said no, we don’t deal with that. But Joel took it anyway, said he’d just trade it on his own to the soldiers, the profit was too good to pass up on.”

“So Joel’s just gonna trade on his own? With Tommy?” you ask and Will nods, his eyebrows pulled together in a deep frown.. 

“I think so, I talked to Pope and we have to have a sit down with them, see where we stand if Joel insists on trading oxy on his own. But you’re gonna have to talk to Frankie, make sure he’s ok.” 

“Yeah, I’m gonna talk to him tonight, he can’t go out on runs anymore Will, it’s already fucking with his head, and it’s just getting worse.” 

“I agree, but he listens to you, he’ll be fine once he gets away from Joel and doesn’t do runs with him.” 

“Thanks Will, I hope you’re right,” you say, getting up and grabbing your coat, “I’d better get home and talk to him straight away.” 

“It’ll be fine, he listens to you,” Will says, accepting your hug when you stand on your tiptoes to reach around his neck, “he’ll be fine.”

…

You wish it had been as easy as Will had said, but it wasn’t, far from it. You got home, Frankie was already there, sorting dinner and you kept thinking about what to say to him all through it, and of course he knew something was wrong and asked. But now you’re standing on either side of the couch and you can feel hot tears prickling behind your eyes while Frankie stares at you, his hands on his hips and his brows furrowed. 

“I did what I did because of you, because of Liam!” he says, throwing his hands in the air, “He needed the meds and you asked me to get them!”

“I didn’t tell you to go threatening to gouge someone’s eye out!” you say back, your voice louder than you intend, but frustration is making it hard to control yourself, Frankie just doesn’t seem to get it. “How can you-” 

“Because I had to!” he yells, cutting you off, “He had what we needed to help Sean and Liam, what was I gonna do? He was refusing to give it to us and we needed those meds. Liam needed those meds! What the fuck was I supposed to do? Walk away?”

“Yes! Maybe that's the choice you have make sometimes! Maybe it’s so fucked up now that you have to choose if you wanna be the guy who gouges someones eye out or not, Frankie!” You yell back at him, angry tears starting to drip and you wipe the palm of your hand over your eyes as Frankie growls. 

“I don’t wanna be that guy!” Frankie shouts, gripping the back of the couch and you see his knuckles turn white, “I don’t wanna! But I fucking know how to be that guy and I’m gonna be him if I need to!”. 

“You’ve always got a choice! And what if he’d refused, or Will wasn’t there? Would you have done it and taken his eye out?” You can feel tears staining your cheeks now and usually Frankie drops anything he’s doing if he sees you cry, any time you disagree, it’s like kryptonite to him. But now he just stares at you and puts his hands back on his hips. 

“I don’t fucking understand you, you’re telling me that guy's eye is worth more than Liam’s life?” Frankie shakes his head like he can’t believe what you’re saying, “He had what we needed to save Liam’s life, what right does he have to deny us that? What if was Lucía? Then what? Would you still tell me his eye was worth more?” He’s coming around the couch and up to you, staring down at you with his eyes dark and you raise your hands, palms towards his chest. “Frankie…” 

“No, I would’ve fucking killed him and anyone who had what she needed and you know that! You fucking know I would’ve done anything to save her so you have no right to stop me from doing anything necessary to save Liam!” He’s yelling at you and you take a step back, choking on your tears as Frankie runs both hands through his hair, turning around and stalking back across the living room. 

“And it was your fucking idea, you’re idea to get the meds, that’s why I went out there and risked my fucking life in the first place and now you’re telling me I shouldn’t have done it.” 

“Frankie, that’s not what I said,” you protest weakly, “I never said..” you’re cut off by a knock on the door and Frankie walks to it without a backwards glance at you. 

“Hey Frankie, everything alright?” you hear Joel’s voice from the hall, from his tone you can tell he’s heard your raised voices from outside.

“Hey, yeah, um…all’s good,” Frankie mumbles, “what’s up?”

 I thought we’d start planning that next run, if now’s a good time?

“Yeah…sounds good,” Frankie hesitates for a beat, you can hear the tension in his voice, “But not here, can we go somewhere else?” 

“Yeah sure, the bars open, we can use the room in the back,” Joel replies and you hear Frankie’s boots scuff on the floor as he pulls them on. 

“Frankie, we need to-” you say, walking towards the front door as he stands up and grabs his jacket. 

“I need to think,” he interrupts, his eyes on his shoes as he pulls on the jacket, “I’ll be back later.” 

And with that, he’s gone. 

The front door closes behind him with a heavy thud and you can’t seem to move. You’ve argued before, plenty of times, over stupid things. But he’s never left, never in the middle of an argument. But now he’s gone and you’re left standing with wet cheeks and a lead ball in the pit of your stomach. 

Slowly anger seeps into you, drying up your tears and making you bunch up your fists as you turn back to the kitchen. You break one of the bowls as you throw the remains of your dinner into the sink but you leave the broken pieces there as you stomp into the bathroom and turn on the shower. You let the hot water scald you until it starts to run cold and you step out, your skin damp and heated. It’s not even late, but you crawl into bed, pulling the comforter tight around you, trying to force your body into sleep two hours before it’s usual time. Your anger and frustration grows as you twist and turn, every position uncomfortable and with a furious kick you knock Frankie’s pillow off the bed. 

Finally, much later, when you’ve resigned to lying flat on your back and staring at the ceiling, you hear his key in the front door. As you listen he kicks his boots off, the jacket falls on the floor and he knocks the coffee table as he stumbles to the kitchen. Cursing loudly in Spanish, he sounds drunk. The kitchen tap runs and you hear the clatter of the broken bowl in the sink and another curse as a glass clinks.

Eventually he stumbles into the bedroom and you sit up, turning on the bedside lamp. It makes him stop at the door, his face sullen and tired, you can see his red eyes even from the bed. He’s swaying where he stands, one hand on the door frame to keep himself steady. 

“You have no right to judge me for what I do to survive,” he says, his tone stubborn. 

“You weren’t doing it to survive, Frankie,” you say, trying to keep your voice calm as anger flares up inside your chest again. 

“I did what I had to do so that Liam could survive,” he takes an unsteady step towards the bed, his movements are sluggish, his eyelids heavy, “You’re not out there, you don’t have to make the choices, I have to save them, we have to save them, Joel and me.” 

He spots his pillow on the floor and bends down to pick it up, almost losing his balance in the process. He staggers backwards, holding the pillow up, pointing it at you, opening his mouth. 

“Frankie, come to bed,” you say, stopping him, “you need to sleep, we should talk about this when you’re sober.” 

“You don’t know what I see, every night,” he jabs the pillow at you, his words starting to slur, “and now you don’t want me in bed with you. I’m too fucked up for you? Is that it?” He shouts the last words, squeezing his eyes shut and he loses his balance, stumbling back to the wall and catching it to remain upright. 

“Frankie!” you call, scrambling from the bed, “you know that’s not true, you know that’s never true!” You can feel tears starting to well up as you reach for him, putting out your hands to steady him. But he brushes you off, pushing himself off the wall and lurch through the door, back to the living room. 

“You, you,  ask me to go outside, to..to…get you stuff, but then…you think I’m a mo..monster when I do what I ne-need to do, to- to survive, to help h-her survive.” He slumps down on the couch, flat on his belly, burying his face in the pillow. 

“I don’t think you’re a monster, Frankie,” you sob, “I never said anything like that. Please just come to bed, we’ll talk in the morning, please, Frankie, come to bed with me.” You kneel by the couch, taking his hand, it’s limp in your grip and he shakes his head, his eyes closed. 

“There’s n-no t-tomorrow,” he mutters, sleep, or maybe unconsciousness, dragging him under, as you wrap your fingers around him. 

You rock back on your heels, swallowing down another sob, still holding his hand. It’s never been this bad, you’ve never seen him like this and you’re suddenly scared. It’d been getting worse, but now it’s spilled over so suddenly and you feel overwhelmed, frozen on the floor next to him as he begins to snore. 

In sleep he still looks like your sweet Frankie, even though his brow is furrowed and troubled. But you feel like you’ve had a glimpse of the real darkness that sits inside him, and it’s left you paralyzed. What do you say tomorrow? How do you get him passed this? 

Your body is frozen to the spot next to him, but your mind is racing, until a shiver makes you move. Stiff and like a sleepwalker you pull yourself up from the floor and cover Frankie with the blanket from the back of the couch. Then you drag yourself back to bed and burrow yourself deep under the comforter. It takes hours before you fall into a fitful sleep, new nightmares plaguing your mind as you try to find, and save, a new version of Frankie of who doesn’t want to be saved. At least not by you.

Chapter 30

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics @vickie5446

[sanarsi]

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Hello to everyone interested in this year's Kinktober by me!

Here you will find a few things I would like you to familiarize yourself with:

All stories are written by me and all of them are intended for MDNI so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

All stories are fiction and are not intended to offend anyone.

This is Kinktober with only Pedro Pascal characters such as:

Joel Miller – The Last of Us Oberyn Martell – Game of Thrones Din Djarin – The Mandalorian Javier Peña – Narcos Jack Daniels “Agent Whiskey” – Kingsman: The Golden Circle Francisco (Frankie) “Catfish” Morales – Triple Frontier Marcus Moreno – We Can Be Heroes Dieter Bravo – The Bubble Reed Richards – The Fantastic Four: First Steps Marcus Acacius – Gladiator 2

Please read the warnings under each of the works I wrote before reading and do not interact if any of them discourage you. Some stories are not for everyone and that's okay!

I do not allow my works to be copied and distributed without my consent.

All works will be available under this hashtag - #sanarsi kinktober 2024

Main Masterlist

Day 1 – Threesome

QZ!Joel Miller x f!Reader x QZ!Tess

You have no way to pay for the goods. Tess finds a way for you to pay, Joel joins with pleasure.

Day 2 – Hunter/Prey

dark!Din Djarin x f!Reader

Din has one problem with you, you often like to run away from him. Luckily he loves playing this game with you.

Day 3 – Monsterfucking

monster!Oberyn Martell x f!Reader

Your poison lessons with Oberyn went wrong when he accidentally drank the wrong potion.

Day 4 – Food play

Marcus Acacius x prostitute!f!Reader

General likes to brighten up his evenings with your companion. This time he's in the mood for more fun.

Day 5 – Edgeplay

dark!Din Djarin x f!Reader

Din learns to control the new power that has been given to him. However, the Darksaber has an influence on its owner and you will be the first to know about it.

Day 6 – Pregnancy

husband!Jack Daniels x wife!f!Reader

Jack finally made you carry his baby. The sight of you with your rounded belly makes him unable to get enough of you.

Day 7 – Sensory Deprivation

boyfriend!Frankie Morales x f!Reader

You and Frankie like to experiment in bed and this time you took the initiative to play with him.

Day 8 – Uniforms

husband!Reed Richards x wife!f!Reader

You try on your new uniform for the first time. Reed can't keep his hands to himself at the sight of you.

Day 9 – Massaging

Javier Peña x prostitute!f!Reader

Javier is one of your regular and favorite clients. You are always willing to fulfill all his requests but today he needed more from you than just sex.

Day 10 – Knife play

post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

After Joel killed all of your comrades, he kept you as a reward. Unfortunately, you weren't willing to cooperate, so he used more drastic methods to make you obey him.

Day 11 – Face Sitting

Dieter Bravo x f!Reader

Dieter has run out of drugs, so he asks you to keep him occupied.

Day 12 – Handjob

Oberyn Martell x prostitute!f!Reader

Oberyn is busy discussing important matters for the kingdom but he can't resist taking care of you as you sit thirsty on his lap.

Day 13 – Bondage

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Din tests new bondage techniques on you and decides to take advantage of how defenseless you are.

Day 14 – Sex Toys

husband!Marcus Moreno x wife!f!Reader

You and Marcus have decided to spice up your married life, so you're more than willing to let him test out on you the toys he bought.

Day 15 – Gun play

Javier Peña x prostitute!f!Reader

You've always been interested in Javier's work, but you've never brought it up with him before. He finally decides to show you what a DEA agent is capable of.

Day 16 – Wax play

lover!Marcus Acacius x f!Reader

Marcus loves watching you arch in pleasure beneath him, but he loves watching you squeal in pain and pleasure even more.

Day 17 – Mirror Sex

coworker!Jack Daniels x f!Reader

One of your missions went wrong and you ended up stuck in a mirror maze.

Day 18 – Nipple play

Dieter Bravo x f!Reader

Dieter loves spending lazy evenings cuddled up to you, but sometimes he also likes to interrupt you a little while you're reading a book.

Day 19 – Thigh Riding

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Din is often busy piloting the ship, which is why he doesn't have as much time for you as he would like, and because of that he doesn't mind for you using him for your own pleasure.

Day 20 – Double Penetration

Reed Richards x f!Reader x Marcus Moreno

Two superheroes have decided to save you from trouble, and you want to repay them.

Day 21 – Bath Sex

Jack Daniels x f!Reader

You were used to Jack often coming back hurt and sore. You always took care of him after each mission and bandaged his wounds but this time he needed more than just a few bandages.

Day 22 – Teasing

fiancé!Javier Peña x f!Reader

Your fiancé can't keep his hands to himself even when you're at a family dinner

Day 23 – Glory Hole

Dieter Bravo x f!Reader

Dieter sometimes had drug cravings and now he found himself in one. He didn't know how he ended up at a run-down gas station in the middle of the night but he knew he had met a nice woman who wanted to make his time more pleasant.

Day 24 – Voyeurism

Oberyn Martell x prostitute!f!Reader

Oberyn liked to please himself in many ways. Today he wanted to watch you and your friend have some fun together.

Day 25 – Somnophilia

boyfriend!Frankie Morales x f!Reader

Frankie often likes to cuddle in his sleep. He is also very sensitive to your touch, which is why you can't help yourself when he moans your name in his sleep again.

Day 26 – Ice play

pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Joel uses every moment your daughter is away to keep you in bed. He also likes to spice up your sex life with things he reads on the internet.

Day 27 – Public Sex

boyfriend!Frankie Morales x f!Reader

Your trip to see a movie took an unexpected turn when it turned out you were almost alone in the cinema.

Day 28 – Dom/Sub

lover!Marcus Acacius x f!Reader

After his failed conversation with the Emperor, Marcus needs to feel like he's in control of everything. You just so happen to be everything to him.

Day 29 – Period Sex

husband!Marcus Moreno x wife!f!Reader

Your husband helps you with period pain.

Day 30 – Praise Kink

Reed Richards x student!f!Reader

Reed likes to reward you for a job well done.

Day 31 – Hate Fucking

coworker!Jack Daniels x f!Reader

Another mission with Agent Whiskey tests your patience to the limits. The dislike is mutual, so you end up in each other's arms to numb the negative emotions.

COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED

[lotusbxtch]

SoCal to NorCal: Chapter 2

Series Masterlist Chapter 1: Malibu

Series Pairing: husband!Joel Miller x f!Reader x boyfriend!Frankie Morales Series Summary: Joel is your rock, and Frankie is your ocean. So what happens when you bring the three of you together? - or - you and Frankie roadtrip up from Southern California to Northern California so he can meet Joel. A polyamory fic. This series exists in the Triple Frontier universe and is a Joel Miller AU/Triple Frontier AU. Series Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI

Chapter 2: Highway 101 & Beyond

Chapter Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!Reader x Joel Miller

Chapter Summary: As you road trip north, you and Frankie struggle to voice your growing feelings for each other. Joel suggests something surprising, and the three of you unexpectedly explore new territory together.

Word Count: 8.7k

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI

Chapter Warnings/Tags: polyamory, phone sex, video sex, masturbation (f and m), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), unprotected P in V (wrap it up pls!), multiple orgasms, creampie, cum kink, cum eating, there’s a lot of cum lol i’m sorry in advance if that’s not your thing, squirting, slight size kink, mentions of food, mentions of Frankie’s young daughter named Isabella, mentions of drug addiction and recovery, gratuitous descriptions of male and female anatomy, she/her pussy pronouns, heavy use of Spanish pet names/nicknames, Frankie the PEK, Joel’s filthy mouth is absolutely its own warning, idiots in love, a splash of angst, soft!Joel but also menace!Joel because we love a man with duality, Reader uses she/her pronouns, Reader is able-bodied, has breasts, and has hair that can be pulled, otherwise no description of Reader's skin color, size, body shape, hair color, eye color, or ethnicity, no use of y/n. Everyone is testing negative for STDs and Reader is on birth control.

a/n: The road trip continues! I’m so excited to dive more into Frankie and Reader’s relationship, and I KNOW you all have been waiting for Joel to get into the mix. Well, buckle up buttercups, because he is about to be THE BIGGEST MENACE lmao. A deeply grateful thank you to my darling @for-a-longlongtime, who encourages me every day, helped me massively flesh out some of the more emotional aspects of the chapter, and who I talk to almost every day, in addition to being my beta reader. Thank you @mountainsandmayhem, @alltheirdamn , and @mermaidgirl30 for screaming with me about these three when I shared excerpts with you. And thank you to everyone for being patient with me while I got this written up between huge life events (both good and bad)! Dividers & banners by the amazing @saradika-graphics, thank you. (Please note that the chapter graphic is NOT meant to be accurate to Reader — vibes only!)

If you enjoy my writing, please leave a comment, feedback or reblog! It would mean the world to me. Thank you!

You’re so happy.

After your short but memorable stay with Santiago, you and Frankie have been on the road, spending the last few days leisurely meandering up Highway 1 towards San Francisco. You take turns driving, playing car DJ, and sightseeing as you travel north. Tanned feet on the dash, chaste kisses to the back of hands while driving, a shifting playlist between your differing musical tastes. Nights spent snuggled up in a rental or hotel room, playing 20 Questions or “Would You Rather”, kisses turning into intertwining of limbs, labored breath and fingers gripping bed sheets, the murmuring of each other’s names like prayers. 

In Ojai, you drank a little too much wine at the tasting room and biked back to the hotel with wobbly legs. Hearst Castle landed on your list for the formerly-captive-now-wild zebras (you) and to gawk at “ridiculously rich people shit” (Frankie). Ocean kayaking amongst the sea otters and sea lions in Morro Bay filled both of you with wonder. Frankie let you lead him into every little boutique shop that called your name, contentedly trailing behind you while you browsed.

Wherever you were, Frankie indulged your sweet tooth by sniffing out the best artisan ice cream shops. One time during a playful debate, you bopped your frozen treat to Frankie’s nose, giggling at his surprised expression and kissing the sticky-sweet remnants off of him before he picked you up over his shoulder. Your shrieks of joy ricocheted off the small town street until he tossed you in the backseat of his Jeep and crawled in after you, demanding a taste of something sweeter. Before you knew it, you were moaning and sighing under Frankie’s ministrations in an abandoned parking lot. The sight of his messy curls between your thighs as he lapped at your core propelled you into a stratosphere of pleasure. 

The next morning, you continued your road trip north and stopped in Santa Cruz to experience the boardwalk since Frankie had never been. Sun-drenched wood slats under your feet, the crisp, briny breeze cooling your exposed skin. You and Frankie meander slowly, eating chocolate dipped soft serve cones and curly fries, hopping onto the slightly rickety carnival rides, including the famous wooden (and creaky) Giant Dipper roller coaster. (“This thing can’t be structurally sound if it’s making all that noise,” Frankie muttered, but you still got him to get on.)

Adrenaline trickling through your veins, giddy with endorphins from the coaster, you and Frankie debate who had the best strategy for the carousel’s metal ring toss game. “You can’t just huck it like a ninja star,” he gripes about your approach, shaking his head with a smile. “You have to finesse and time it, and throw it like a frisbee so it floats in.”

“I swear, I was way closer than you were,” you shoot back. “I’ve had my whole life to perfect my technique. One of my rings hit the clown’s mouth! More than I can say about your attempts.” You stick your tongue out at Frankie, and he rolls his eyes playfully. Neither of you had set off the lights and buzzers that indicated a successful throw. He’s about to point this out when his phone trills.

Pulling it out of his pocket, his eyebrows knit together a bit before answering. “Mamá,” Frankie says into the phone, “Que pasa? Is something wrong?” He had dropped off Isabella with her for the duration of the road trip, his mother always eager to have “girl time” with her only grandchild. 

“No, no, mijo,” she responds, “Estámos bien. Isa is napping. I just wanted to call you and see how your vacation is going. You work so hard, you deserve to have this time to yourself!”

Frankie breaths a small sigh of relief. “Oh, okay, good. Well, I’ve gotta keep it short. We’re out here on the pier.”

“ ‘WE?’ ” you suddenly hear screeching out of the phone, her tone ecstatic. “Who are you with? Oh my goodness, are you with that girl?” 

Frankie winces, holding the phone away from his ear as you chuckle. “Yes, mamá,” Frankie responds, “the woman I told you about. You don’t need to yell.” He looks at you, a blush slowly creeping up his face, a sheepish smile on his lips. He mouths “five minutes” while walking towards the side of the walkway. Nodding your head with a smile, you whisper, “take your time,” and kiss his cheek, settling on a bench nearby but out of earshot of the conversation, allowing Frankie his privacy. 

“Oh, mijo, that’s wonderful!” his mother exclaims. “When do I get to meet her?”

Frankie huffs out a laugh. “Mamá, relax. You will get to meet her in time. We’re not quite there yet.”

“What are you waiting for? Haven’t you been together for a few months now?”

“Yes, but…” Frankie trails off, not quite sure his mother can handle a full explanation of your situation. Honestly, as he thinks about it, he isn’t even 100% sure what to call the two of you anymore. “It’s complicated,” he says simply.

The both of you agreed to enjoy what you had with no expectations. But “no expectations” changed over the days, weeks, months to become a desire to be around each other more days than not. Visits in the dead of night became dates during the day, morphing into waking up in each other’s arms, eating breakfast together over the weekends, bedhead and sleepy eyes and warm smiles. He thinks about the way you make him laugh, head thrown back, with his whole chest. He thinks about your playful debates, the way you tease him when he loses to you in Mario Kart. He thinks about the way you writhe under, on top of, beside him as he draws pleasure from your body again and again, your moans and gasps creating the prettiest song he’s ever heard. Frankie thinks about your soul, your heart, your innate goodness, and then he thinks about how he can’t possibly deserve any more than you already give him, despite him realizing more every day that he can’t imagine his life without you.

Frankie’s mother clears her throat on the other end of the line, and he snaps back to the present moment.

“Francisco,” she says softly. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. Just tell her how you feel, and see where it takes you. If she's as special as you say she is, you're going to regret not saying anything.”

Frankie looks down at his boots, and then back at you. You smile at him from the bench, your sundress fluttering slightly in the breeze. “Mamá, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“If you want something, Francisco, go for it. I always told you that you need to be more confident in yourself.” Frankie’s mother sighs affectionately. “You have done so much for your career, for Isabella… you have more than made up for your transgressions, mijito. Do this one thing for yourself. Take the risk.”

He thinks back to the beginning of your relationship, when he said he didn’t want anything serious because he was focusing on his career and his daughter. Not only was he in a stable job with room for upward movement, and becoming the father that Isabella deserved, it was because of you that he was able to achieve his goals. You’ve always supported him, encouraged him, and given him reality checks when he needed it. Not once have you asked for more in the relationship, but he never felt like you had to. He was willing to give you that and so much more. He was nearly certain that you felt the same way about having each other as a more permanent part of your lives, but without ever asking the question directly, he couldn’t be certain that it wasn’t just all in his head.

Frankie swallows thickly. “You’re right,” he acquiesces. “I’ll talk to her soon, when the moment is right. I don’t want to lose her.”

His mother coos sweetly at him. “Now that’s the son I know and love! I’ll let you go have fun with your lady. I love you, Frankie.”

“I love you too, Mamá,” Frankie whispers, and then ends the call. 

You’re people watching at the boardwalk as Frankie approaches you from behind, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. There’s no surprise triggered by his arms around you, just a calm ease and warmth. He presses kisses into your hair and sighs deeply. Tipping your head to the side, you return the kisses up his arm and rub his knuckles with your thumbs.

“How’s your mamá?” you ask. 

“Good,” Frankie responds, “just checking in to make sure I was having fun on my vacation.” A sheepish grin blooms on his face. “Sorry you had to hear her scream about you.”

You snicker as you stand up from the bench. “Nah, it wasn’t my ear she yelled into… But I didn’t mind at all. It’s sweet how she checks up on you.”

He grins, lifting his cap briefly to run his fingers through his hair. “She knows how hard I’ve been working to make things right with my job, and with Isabella, and she’s been pushing me to take some time off.” He sighs, looking off into the distance, and you know him well enough to know he’s doubtful of his progress.

“You deserve it, Frankie,” you murmur to him, lacing your fingers with his. You both start strolling along the boardwalk again, Frankie looking deeply in thought. “You’re always so hard on yourself, and at the very least, you deserve some time off.”

Glancing over at him, your breath catches. Frankie’s already staring at you, curls wild in the sea breeze, brown eyes warm and sparkling. Suddenly your chest feels like it’s cracked open, warm and aching. You feel the spark in your heart, and you realize that your feelings may be more than a simple affection. You search Frankie’s eyes and you can see a steady hidden layer under the warmth of his gaze as he lifts your joined hands to his lips, kissing them softly. It makes your heart do somersaults, the deeper unspoken emotions that flickered across his irises. A deep devotion that tugs at your soul.

He deserves the world.

Frankie huffs a laugh, dropping his gaze. “Everyone seems to tell me that. Guess I should stop being so damn stubborn and start believing them.” You continue walking, Frankie swinging your hands between the two of you as you settle into comfortable silence.

This is more than lust and companionship, you think to yourself. The way he looks at you, touches you with such reverence. It goes deeper than respect and fondness. Only Joel had ever given you butterflies and yet here you are, a fluttering in your gut, foreign but familiar. But what does that mean for you and Joel? 

Can your heart love two people at once?

Whoa…. wait, “love”??

You push the thoughts away with a shake of your head, determined to be present in the moment with Frankie. Bumping gently into his shoulder to get his attention, you flash him a smile.

“Wanna see which one of us can win first at the dime toss game?” you ask Frankie, and his eyes crinkle at the corners the way you love so much when he smiles in return, his competitive streak flaring.

“Sweetness, I thought you’d never ask. Prepare to lose.”

After you absolutely demolish Frankie at the dime toss (he swears they rigged the bowls he was aiming for), you and Frankie hit the road towards the cute cottage you’d booked for the night. Among the draws was its proximity to good food while being simultaneously off the beaten path. You were dying to try the seafood restaurant nearby, which was recommended to Frankie by one of his coworkers.

Per usual for the northern California coast, the fog began to roll in from the beach, casting ghostly tendrils across the road. Fog was one of the things you missed most about home while in SoCal, where it was a rarity. You roll up the windows and flip on your seat heater with a content sigh, then drape your body over the center console to grab your oversized cardigan from the back. The move makes your short dress hike further up your thighs as you reach for the soft knit. Frankie glances in the rearview mirror, spotting a flash of the curve of your ass where it peeks out of your panties. The sight has him already hardening in his pants. A quiet groan rises from his throat involuntarily, and you smirk, knowing exactly what he’s reacting to. 

“God, hermosa, that fucking dress,” Frankie grits. “I’ve been half hard all day seeing you in it.” You say nothing, but look over at him, your smirk growing bigger as you recline the seat a bit more and stretch your body just so, making the light blue eyelet lace material ride higher up your thighs, which you spread lasciviously. 

“Oh?” you tease. “What are you going to do about it?” You see Frankie’s eyes flash with desire for a moment, but he works hard to keep his cool.

His hand inches up your inner thigh while he drives, teasing swirls with his fingertips across your soft skin. You pant quietly, your breasts heaving gently against the low, curved neckline, and bite back a whimper as more arousal pools in your cotton underwear. “Take off your panties,” Frankie gently commands.

Dragging the material down your hips and legs, you let your thighs part for him, inviting his touch. Frankie keeps his eyes on the road, calmly navigating towards a quiet backroad. His focused demeanor is a lie though; his increasingly rapid breathing is a dead giveaway. When his fingers brush against your drenched folds, he groans and grips the wheel tighter with his driving hand.

“Fuck, baby,” Frankie grits out. “You’re so fucking wet for me already.” His nimble fingers explore you, spreading the slick around, swiping a soft circle around the pearl of your clit. He plays with you, and you start to writhe. A smirk blooms on his face as he clocks your movement. Frankie loves teasing you like this, drawing things out until you buckle under the pressure of your mounting desires. But the throbbing of his cock and your soft mewling sounds are making him desperate. 

Frankie pulls the car over to a small lot connected to an overlook, its parking spaces empty since the vista point is shrouded in fog. Trees block the view of your parking spot to traffic on the road. He throws the car in park, ripping his seatbelt off, and pulls your face to his for a passionate kiss. Swallowing your moans with his lips, Frankie tangles his tongue with yours while his fingers grip the base of your skull. 

“You’re killing me with this slutty little sundress,” he pants, sliding his hand down to cup your naked sex. 

You let out a strangled cry. “Frankie, I need you.”

Frankie shushes you gently. “Get in the back, nenita. I’ve got you.” You comply, scrambling over the center console and pushing your back up against the door, legs spreading wide and fingers tracing your glistening folds. He feels like he’s going to lose his mind if he doesn’t get his mouth on you in the next twenty seconds. He gets out of the front seat, yanking open the driver’s side back door and shutting it behind him after he slides in towards you.

“Gonna suck on that sweet little clit of yours ‘til you scream,” Frankie growls as he crawls towards your body, pushing your knees further towards your torso so you’re opened up lewdly for him. He slides his middle and ring fingers into his mouth to wet them, slipping them out and immediately burying them to the second knuckle in your soft cunt. A high-pitched whine is ripped from your throat.

“Frankie!” you whine, eyebrows furrowing together as you lock eyes with him. The mocha richness of his eyes has given way to pits of nearly black desire, and he keeps them on you while he presses his tongue flat to your swollen clit. Your eyes roll back and you nearly scream in pleasure. 

“That’s it, baby, I’m gonna make you come so hard,” he murmurs into your drenched folds, and then buries his face into you. You weave your fingers into his fluffy curls, opening your eyes to watch him at work.

Frankie’s eyes slip closed as he rhythmically pumps his thick fingers in and out of your pussy, curving them slightly up to hit that magical spot you can never quite reach the same way as he does. He sucks your hardened clit into his mouth, nestling it between the cleft of his lower lip and an almost imperceptible divot in the center of his tongue. That sweet, talented tongue swirls in precise tiny circles with the perfect pressure, while continuing to suckle exactly how you like it. Joel may go down on you like nobody’s business, but Frankie has cunnilingus nearly down to a science. At this point, he knows the exact series of moves to bring you to orgasm, and how long it takes really just depends on how long he feels like eating pussy that day. Sometimes, he’ll lay with his face between your legs for hours.

And right now? Frankie seems to want to break his own record for how fast he can get you to come.

Within seconds, you feel your orgasm gathering in your muscles. The tight shimmer of pleasure reverberates across your skin, in your bones, through every cell in your body, suspended in time, just waiting for a release. Frankie feels you tightening on his fingers, and you swear you feel him smirk against your slick folds. He keeps going, never faltering his movements, as the feeling inside you builds.

“Frankie,” you whine again, your body starting to shake. It shouldn't be physically possible for him to get you there so fast, and yet you feel that bowstring drawing impossibly tense in your body. “Frankie, I’m gonna… I’m so….” you keen, high-pitched, your chest heaving fast. Frankie moans against your folds, pressing just a bit harder with his fingers, crooking them just right, and sucks your clit hard.

You’re lucky that the area is truly secluded, because the scream tearing out of your throat as you shatter in ecstasy is loud. Your thighs lock around Frankie’s head as he moans deeply into your pussy, drawing out your orgasm expertly. Slick weeps from your cunt, soaking his lips and chin, and he slurps down every drop. He slows and gentles his ministrations on your core until he feels your thighs relax. Pulling back, he gives your folds one last kiss before he moves up your body to hover over your face, admiring the flush lighting up your features. Frankie kisses you gently, and you cup his face with both hands.

“Sweetest cunt I’ve ever tasted,” Frankie slurs, pussydrunk on you.

“God, you’re incredible,” you murmur against his lips, kissing him deeper, the taste of your own essence making you clench involuntarily. You can feel the thick, hard line of him against your thigh. Moaning, you press yourself into him. “Let me ride you, Francisco.” 

Frankie lets out a groan as he pulls you up. You rest your knees on the backseat, littering kisses over his face as he unbuttons and shoves his jeans and boxers down. His cock smacks his belly, precum smearing on his skin. Leaning over, you lick it off, his salty taste invading your senses. Frankie groans again when you suck him into your mouth. You gently lick his foreskin and pull it down to reveal his ruddy head, the tip leaking. Slurping and suckling, you sneak a hand between your thighs to rub your clit, the action not going unnoticed by Frankie. It seems to snap him out of his trance.

“I need to be inside you so badly,” he grits out, pulling you onto his lap. The skirt of your sundress flares over the both of you. Reaching down, he brushes his tip against your folds, making you both whine. Swirling it through your combined slick and spit, Frankie presses his head into you slowly. You take over, grabbing his hand to place it over your hip, and grind down on him, letting his length slip further and further into you. Your breath hitches as he spreads your walls, always a stretch no matter how many times you’ve taken him.

Frankie drops his head back against the headrest, his hands gripping you tightly. “You’re always so fucking tight for me, querida,” he pants, his eyes glazing over with lust. His words prompt another wave of slick to leak out of you, aiding your descent down his shaft as you swirl your cunt around him. Both of you moan, and soon enough you’re fully seated on him. You lean down, kissing him passionately, and he responds in kind, slipping his tongue into your mouth to massage against yours. Your hips begin to roll and Frankie breaks the kiss, a deep rumble of satisfaction vibrating through his chest.

“Fuck, baby, your pussy’s like hot velvet,” he grits out, grabbing your hips to buck up into you. He trails kisses down your jaw and leaves little love bites as he goes. The car is filled with the slap of flesh, the squelch of your cunt as you fuck yourself on his cock, your shared gasps and panted breaths. Frankie slips the straps of your dress down, pulling down the cups with it, your breasts spilling out of their confines. He ducks his head down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. You whimper.

“God, Francisco,” you whine, riding him harder, spurred on by the way he laves his tongue over your pebbled nipple, gently catching and pulling it between his teeth. He switches to your other breast, his other hand anchored to your hip to guide your motions. His cock kisses that spot deep in you that only Frankie and Joel have ever found, and the feeling rips another moan from you. 

“That’s it, fucking ride my cock,” Frankie pants. You lean forward, changing the angle a bit until your clit catches on his belly, which triggers your pussy to clench in pleasure. 

“Oh god, you feel so fucking good in me,” you moan, grinding down harder onto him, massaging your walls with his thick shaft and your clit with the friction of his course hairs. “You fill me up so well.”

“Softest, wettest pussy I’ve ever fucked, I swear,” Frankie slurs, losing himself in the feeling of you wrapped around his length. “You feel like silk on me, nenita.”

Your clit swells with the stimulation of every roll of your hips, making your cunt clench around Frankie. He lets out a whine. Your brows furrow in concentration as you seat his length in you as far as it will go, and he nearly chokes when he feels his tip kiss your cervix.

“You’re so deep in me,” you moan, working yourself on his shaft. “Tell me how good this pussy feels.” You’re desperate to hear him lose it.

“You feel amazing,” he whines, his dick hardening and swelling even more as he approaches his high. It feels like he’s lighting up every nerve ending inside of you. At this point, Frankie’s lap is dripping with your arousal, slick squelching and slapping sounds as thick in the air as the smell of sex. Both of you are covered in a sheen of sweat. You can tell he’s getting closer, so you start fucking him harder, driving his cock deeply into you, to the point where you feel like you’re beginning to meld together, a writhing, wet, hot mess of pleasure.

“Yeah?” you ask rhetorically, riding him harder and harder. “Are you going to come for me, Francisco?” You continue to use his full name, knowing how much it turns him on when you say it. “I want you to fuck me so full of your cum; I wanna be dripping for days. I want you to fill me up so bad.”

“Oh fuck, nenita,” Frankie whines as he loses himself in your heat. “I’m gonna fuck you so full. Gonna give you all of my cum. Gonna put it right where it belongs, deep in this cunt.” You roll your hips harder, your tits bouncing with the effort, and Frankie fucking whimpers. Your pussy tightens at the sound. It always turns you on so much when he loses control.

“Do it, Francisco. Fill me up,” you pant, your own orgasm barrelling towards you. Frankie’s thighs begin to quiver under you, and you know he’s almost there, too. You grip the base of his skull with one hand while the other steadies yourself on his shoulder, and then you lean down, nipping his earlobe. He whimpers again, completely fucked out.

“Come for me, now,” you beg in a whisper.

Frankie shouts as his grip on you turns to steel, and at the first hot spurt of his cum inside of you, your orgasm rips through you. Your cunt clenches, prolonging his pleasure, as your release soaks Frankie’s lap and his cum paints your insides. You both cry out at the feeling, foreheads pressed together. Frankie leans in and latches his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss.

As you both come down from your highs, you lean into Frankie, and he rubs his hands along your back soothingly. The softest kisses pepper your face, your sweat cooling down your skin while you both heave breaths, trying to recover. You weave your fingers into Frankie’s damp curls and scratch his scalp.

“Couldn’t wait ‘til we got to the rental, huh?” you quip.

Frankie huffs a laugh and hums in pleasure at your ministrations on his scalp. “Not when you tempt me with those dresses, baby. You know what flashing me a peek under your skirt does to me.”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault?” you tease, nipping his ear.

He jerks away at the ticklish sensation, then gently bites your shoulder in retribution. “Such a tease, hermosa,” he tuts. You both begin to untangle your sweat-slick limbs, and you slip yourself off of Frankie’s cock, groaning quietly in contentment as you stem the flow of his spend from your pussy with your fingers, shuffling around, seeking your panties. Finding them in the front seat, you slip them on, pressing the fabric into your cunt to keep yourself full of Frankie. Both of you get back into the front seats.

You fix your hair as you settle back in but pause, looking up to see your boyfriend staring at you, an achingly soft expression painting his whole face. Amber eyes, golden flecked irises, striking deep to your soul.

Breath catching in your throat, vulnerability rolling through your nerves. That flutter in your heart once again.

Before you can process anything, Frankie shakes his head slightly, as if emerging from a daze. “Well I’ve certainly worked up an appetite,” he quips, squeezing your knee gently. “Let’s get some of that clam chowder.” You nod, breathing deeply and shoot him a crooked little smile. He intertwines his fingers with yours, and then puts the Jeep into gear.

A couple hours later, you arrive at the rental, Frankie bringing both of your bags in. You close the door behind the two of you, kicking off your shoes, and survey the place. A small kitchenette to the left, cute velour loveseat to the right, and through adorable French doors, the king size bed, dressed in the fluffiest looking bedding. A dresser and full-length gilded mirror complete the decor in the bedroom, everything fitting perfectly into a cottagecore dream aesthetic. The last of the natural lighting filters through the windows.

Frankie drops a quick kiss to your forehead. “I need to scrub off the road,” he says in passing while stripping off his clothes. “Why don’t you relax a bit before we decide what we’re doing for the rest of the night?”

You snort out a laugh. “Frankie, it’s not like we’re on the Oregon Trail in a covered wagon. We’ve been driving in an air-conditioned car, Mr. Drama Queen.” He laughs and tosses his hat at you, disappearing into the en suite bathroom and closing the door behind him.

Settling into the plush bed, you set Frankie’s hat on the dresser and grab your phone to catch up on messages missed during the drive, when suddenly your phone starts buzzing. Joel’s name flashes onto the screen, and you hit the green button to accept the video call.

“Hey, baby,” you coo, grinning widely as Joel’s handsome tan face appears on your screen. His umber & silver hair is damp and slicked back, likely fresh out of the shower just like Frankie will be in a few minutes. The headboard of the bed you share with Joel sits behind him. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you?”

Joel chuckles. “What, can’t a man call his pretty wife just to see her face and tell her that he loves her?”

You giggle. “I suppose that’s a good enough reason.” His eyes soften, and then flick down the screen.

“I see you’re wearing that sundress I like so much,” Joel muses. 

You smile, extending the arm holding your phone so he can see more of your body. “Oh, this little number?” You shift onto your knees, spreading them wide and running your other hand teasingly slow from your collarbone, down the slope of your breast, across your waist, and then down your thigh, retracing your path slightly to lift the hem of the skirt. “Frankie hadn’t seen it before, and he likes it just as much as you do.” Your cheeks flush at the memory of Frankie taking you in the car, and Joel hums lowly when you break eye contact with him.

“Did you and Frankie get up to some fun earlier, baby?” You pause, unsure of where this is going, and then nod your head.

“Words, sweetheart,” Joel reminds you.

“Yes, Joel,” you whisper breathlessly. 

He nods approvingly, a small smirk gracing his plush lips. “I could tell, you got that faraway look in your eyes like you do when you’re thinking about me fucking you.” Joel shifts his seat on the bed, and you recognize the movement as a sign that he’s getting turned on. This is a new development, you think to yourself. He’s rarely asked about sex with Frankie before. 

“Did Frankie treat your pussy right? Did he fill you up?” You nod again, your core beginning to pulse as you affirm with your words, and Joel groans.

“Let me see it.”

You choke on your breath. “What?”

This was not something Joel had ever asked before.

“You heard me, darlin’,” Joel asserts, his eyes darkening. “Let me see that pretty pussy full of Frankie’s cum.”

A full-body shiver ripples through you. “Yes, Joel,” you murmur obediently, sliding off the bed to retrieve the phone stand you use often when you’re away from Joel. You set it up on the dresser near the bed, the front-facing camera angled advantageously for him while allowing you to see him as well. Coming back into frame, you slowly unzip your dress, letting it fall to the floor. You slide your damp panties down, the heady scent of Frankie’s cum wafting up from your heated core. Joel leans back and lets out a low groan. 

You climb back onto the bed once naked, noticing Joel’s espresso brown eyes have deepened to the color of a moonless night, his pupils dilated in desire. Putting your back to the camera, you get onto your hands and knees, canting your hips forward and ass back. You rest your forearms on the bed, looking back at the camera, and snake one hand between your legs to spread your pussy open with your fingers. Joel moans unabashedly at the view, your glazed pussy glinting in the light, Frankie’s milky spend coating it and gathering at your opening. He watches as your cunt clenches at the sound.

“Fuuuuuck, darlin’, that little pussy always looks so fuckin’ good when it’s covered in cum, don’t it?” Joel asks rhetorically, running one hand down his chin through his greying scruff. You whimper in response, the movement of your contracting walls pushing a thin stream of Frankie’s cum out from deep in you, dripping onto the bed sheets. This feels so debauched, filthy, and you are incredibly turned on by Joel’s response to the sight of another man’s cum decorating your most intimate parts. 

“God, if I was there I would be rubbin’ that cream all over your swollen little clit,” Joel drawls. “Can see her peekin’ out at me. Can you flip over? Wanna see you touch her for me.” You oblige, gathering the pillows to prop yourself up, and lean back against them as you butterfly your thighs open for your husband. Holding his gaze, you slowly trace your outer lips with your fingers, feeling the slide of Frankie’s spend lubricate your movements. You swirl your fingertips through the mess of slick and cum at your entrance, then glide them up to the pearl of your clit, throbbing in anticipation. At the first touch, your breath catches on the edge of a jagged little moan. 

“So sensitive already?” Joel teases, and you see him shift in his seat at the same time that the rustle of his pants tells you he’s pulling them down. The thought of him needing to touch himself at the sight of your messy cunt makes a pang of need course through your core. 

“Let me see it, baby,” you whisper hoarsely towards the phone, desperate to see the physical proof of his desire for you, for the sight of Frankie’s desire for you. The frame jostles a bit as Joel sets his phone up on the phone stand you have in your bedroom for times like these. It’s not the first time you have had video sex while apart and it certainly won’t be the last. 

And as Joel walks backwards toward the bed again and into frame, you barely stifle a gasp.

His cock is an absolute marvel, still is after a decade of being together. Thick, long, and uncut, the sight of him always makes your mouth water and your pussy slick. Joel sits on the edge of the bed, stroking his length languidly, the gleaming cockhead a flushed pink, disappearing and reappearing from under his foreskin. His gray, worn sweatpants are pulled just under his ass. Heavy, sizable balls drape over the waistband. You’ll never get tired of the sight.

“See somethin’ y’like, angel?”’Joel teases, his Texas twang always thicker when he’s aroused. His thick thighs are spread wide as he sits on the bed.

“Yes… everything,” you breathe, starting to rub your pussy again. 

“Nuh-uh,” Joel tuts, and your fingers immediately stop. “I didn’t tell you that you could touch yourself. Let’s wait until Frankie can join us to have fun.” Your body flushes with more arousal; Joel’s never asked to include Frankie before. But then again, you’d never asked if he wanted to.

As if on cue, the bathroom door squeaks open and Frankie appears, freshly showered, dark curls dripping a bit onto his broad, golden shoulders. A white towel is wrapped around his narrow waist, and he takes a moment to assess what he’s walked into.

“Babygirl, are you getting started without me?” Frankie purrs as he strides towards you, then pauses when he realizes your phone is on the stand and positioned right at your dripping cunt.

“Hey, Frankie,” Joel’s voice floats warmly into the room. “I figured you’d want to watch our girl play with herself, so I made her wait.”

Our girl.

You shiver in arousal — and something else — at the moniker. Your eyes flick to Frankie, a smirk beginning to grace his lips but a bit of hesitation in his eyes. This was all new to him, too.

Frankie moves towards the armchair situated in the corner of the room, behind where you had your phone set up. He was already adjusting himself, clearly aroused, which you took as a good sign.

“Frankie, are you okay with this?” you inquire, trying to gauge his consent to what was unfolding. “If not, I can —“

“Yes,” Frankie grits out hoarsely. “I want to watch you with Joel.” His tone sets off another wave of pleasure through your nerves.

Joel chuckles, his voice smooth and deep as whiskey. “Well, darlin’, give us a show. Go on ‘n pet that pretty lil’ pussy for us.” Planting your heels on the bed, you use your fingers to spread yourself open as another trickle of Frankie’s previous release leaks its way out of you. Both men groan at the sight. Scooping it up, you glide your way up to your throbbing clit, starting to circle it just the way you like. A moan leaves your parted lips; you tilt your head back while you work yourself. Your other hand moves to pinch and thumb a nipple, drawing it into a tight bud.

“Mmm, good girl,” Joel praises you. His hand starts pumping his cock once again at the same time Frankie palms himself through the fluffy towel. Frankie’s eyes flick from you to the phone, still trying to feel out the dynamics of the three of you. But both men can’t keep their eyes away from your soft pussy and swollen clit, glazed in your arousal and Frankie’s cum. Holding both of them in rapture while seeking your own pleasure is a heady power trip that wraps its silken claws into your brain. 

You feel like a goddess.

“Joel,” you moan, writhing in pleasure on the bed, but not quite where you want to be. “I need more.”

“Tell me what you want, darlin’,” Joel croons through the phone, the soft fapping sound of him working his cock audible. 

“I want… more,” you whine, mind so hazy with pleasure that you can’t even articulate your desires. “Please.”

“Hmmm,” Joel responds, slowing down to consider his options. You look up in impatience just as a wicked smirk crosses his face.

That look always means trouble. 

“Y’told me how good Frankie is at goin’ down on you,” Joel continues, “so why don’t you let him show me?” You hear Frankie’s breath choke in his throat in surprise as a whimper escapes your lips at Joel’s words. Frankie’s eyes dart from yours to the phone and back. 

“Frankie?” you hear Joel say while your eyes remain on your boyfriend. “Would you be okay with that? Would you show me how hard you make our girl come with that tongue’a yours?” You let out a little moan at Joel’s filthy words, and Frankie groans involuntarily at the sight of another dribble of his cum escaping your pussy.

“Oh, baby, you’re still drippin’?” Joel coos at you. “Frankie must’a stuffed you so full’a his cum. Do you like eating yourself outta her sweet cunt, Frankie?”

In a flash, Frankie enters the frame as he spreads your legs further apart and wedges his shoulders between them, leaving enough space for Joel to watch the action behind him. “I fucking love it,” Frankie growls in response, immediately running his tongue in a broad stripe from the bottom of your slit to your clit, tasting himself and you as he swallows every drop of cum and slick you released. You throw your head back, keening.

“Damn,” you hear Joel choke out, his hand moving faster on his cock at the sight of Frankie diving headfirst into your cunt. Eager to prove his skills, Frankie works you up rapidly to your orgasm, your moans pitching higher and higher within a minute. He swirls his tongue over your clit, then slides two of his fingers inside to the last knuckle, aided by your copious slick and the remnants of his cum. Your back arches off the bed from the sensation as you cry out his name.

“Oh fuck, angel,” Joel grits out, his breath coming faster. “He eatin’ you good?”

“Yessss, Joel,” you whimper, your hand holding Frankie’s head firmly to your center. “I’m gonna fucking cum!”

Frankie moans encouragingly, reverberating across your cunt, and the tether inside your core snaps. You stutter out a groan, punctuated each time your pussy spasms with your release on Frankie’s fingers. The man between your thighs laps it all up, moaning in delight. He pulls back, kissing the inside of each thigh, and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth.

“Good fucking girl,” Joel purrs at you as you catch your breath. You hear a slightly pained groan, and look at the screen to see Joel gripping the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm. Hmm, that’s odd, you think. Joel usually comes when he’s decided he’s done making me come.

The realization hits you a split second before Joel’s deep, commanding voice spits out, “Again, Morales.”

Ohhhh, fuck.

You whip your head around when you hear Frankie suck in a breath as he stares at the phone, his chest heaving. Looking down, you see his cock achingly hard under his towel, his neck flushed with arousal. Frankie turns to you, his onyx eyes shimmering ferally. You know following orders gets him going, but you’re surprised that Joel clocked that about him instinctively.

In a split second, Frankie’s spread both of your legs again, pinning you open obscenely wide by your thighs. His tongue immediately begins to fuck into your pussy, the strong muscle prodding and curling just right. Your head slams into the soft mattress, a squeal leaving your lips at the sudden pleasure. With every thrust of his tongue, you feel Frankie grinding desperately into the bed, trying to stem the intense arousal building below his waist.

“Talk to me, darlin’,” Joel’s voice floats in your ear, pulling you out of the cloud of intense pleasure momentarily. “Tell me how good Frankie feels.”

“He’s so good,” you moan, alternating playing with your nipples and curling your fingers in the bedding. “His tongue feels so good in my pussy.”

“Is he as good as me?” Joel asks, his voice dropping an octave. There’s not a hint of jealousy, just charged curiosity.

“Yes, baby,” you coo, gasping as Frankie moves his tongue back to your clit and slides his fingers back into you, reaching that spot deep in you that makes your eyes roll back. “So good. Just… different.”

Joel lets out a quiet growl, his voice dripping with sex. “Good. Your pussy deserves the best.”

“Frankie,” Joel commands. Frankie lifts his head from your center, moving his thumb to replace his tongue on your clit, making your back arch again. “Have you made her squirt before?”

“Yeah,” Frankie breathes, looking back at you. “She’s so beautiful when she does it.”

“Good,” Joel rumbles. “Make her squirt for us.”

Frankie nods once, then pulls his fingers out slightly until he hits the spongy spot near the entrance of your pussy. He starts swirling the tips of his fingers against it, pressing his other hand down gently but firmly on your lower belly above your pubic bone, and then lowers his head to suck your clit back into his mouth. You keen, your body folding in on itself from the intense pleasure. Frankie moans into you, but you hear a growl rip from Joel’s throat.

“Don’t you dare hide that beautiful body,” Joel demands. “Lay back and spread your legs for us.”

You comply, barely able to shift yourself open again before Frankie starts intensifying his ministrations. You hear Joel’s slick fist jerking his cock again while he coos at you and praises you, telling you how good you’re being for him and Frankie, how pretty and strong you are.

“You can take it, angel,” Joel moans with the squelching of his cock in his hand acting as an obscene background track for your pleasure. “You’re close, aren’t ya?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whimper, your cunt making equally debauched sounds with every thrust of Frankie’s fingers. “I’m so close. Feels so fucking good.”

Frankie presses harder on your belly and sucks your clit more fervently, and your cries pitch higher. “Oh god, Frankie, you’re gonna make me come,” you whine, toes curling and thighs beginning to shake. A desperate moan from Frankie’s mouth is muffled by your cunt, making you cry out again.

“Let go for us, darlin’,” Joel grits out, his hand a blur on the screen as he approaches his orgasm as well. 

Frankie peels himself away from your drenched folds just long enough to command, “Come for us, now,” and then latches back onto your clit, sucking hard, and that’s the moment you break, nearly screaming. Frankie works you through the first wave of your orgasm with his mouth, then pulls back, slipping his fingers out of you as your release gushes out, spraying your belly, thighs, and Frankie’s torso. With every pump and slide out of your pussy, Frankie brings forth another spray of release, drenching your body and his. 

You’re barely aware of Joel’s groans of pleasure in the throes of your own, but when you come back down moments later, you can hear the edge of desperation in his sounds. You look over to the phone to see him with his teeth bared, the head of his cock an angry red, his fist slick with precum and spit. More pearly liquid slowly oozes from the slit at the top.

Joel is barely keeping it together.

“Joel, honey,” you moan, “I wanna see you come.”

Joel growls. “Francisco,” he grits out. Frankie, who’s looking at you in amazement and pride, snaps his head to the phone at the sound of his full name. You see his cock twitch under the towel.

“Get our girl messy, Francisco.”

A whimper worms its way out of your throat as Frankie whines. Unashamed and blind with arousal, he whips the towel off his waist and his cock bobs, hard and thick. You hear Joel’s breath hitch. I’ll tuck that reaction away for later, you think. 

Frankie kneels between the damp sheets under your thighs, spitting into his hand and fisting his cock hard and fast. His muscles flex with the intensity of feeling, breathing rapid. His grunts get louder and longer as he swiftly approaches his peak. You hear a long, low moan from the phone, Joel nearly delirious with how worked up he is over the scene playing out.

“Where?” Frankie moans, desperately trying to follow orders before he blows his load. Precum drips onto the sheets.

“Her tits,” Joel pants, “and her pussy. Paint her like a fucking picture, Frankie.”

“Oh fffuuuu—“ Frankie grits out just before he explodes, his release shooting out onto your nipples, the curves of your breasts, and then he’s aiming lower, coating your mound and pussy lips with his seed.

You’re dripping with yourself and Frankie, an absolutely debauched sight.

Suddenly you hear a shout from the phone, and turn just in time to see Joel shoot his load all over his chest, belly, and even some on his neck with how hard he’s coming. Every spurt paired with a moan; one of the prettiest sights you’ve ever seen in your life. 

For a moment all you hear is the shared heavy breathing of yourself, your boyfriend, and your husband, and then Frankie is kissing your forehead, your lips, and then working his way down your body. When he goes to lick off his cum from your tits to clean you up, you groan in protest.

“Too sensitive, baby,” you plead, and Frankie acquiesces, cooing at you. 

“You did so well for us, nenita,” he soothes, stroking your face and planting kisses across your eyelids. “You’re so beautiful. Let me rinse off and get you cleaned up, okay?” With your mind pleasantly fuzzy from what just transpired, you simply nod, and Frankie goes into the bathroom for supplies. You let your head roll to the side, and smile tiredly at Joel, who’s watching you with pride and love while he towels off his release from his body and hands.

“I would have licked up all that cum off you to save you from having to add another towel to the laundry,” you giggle, feeling your own juices and Frankie’s cum cooling on your torso. You run your fingers through the slick release Frankie left on your pussy, teasing your clit with the silky fluid. Your body shudders a bit with overstimulation, and Joel shakes his head.

“You just like makin’ a mess and then cleanin’ it up, you dirty girl,” he chuckles, watching you enjoy the tactile sensations.

“Stop pretending that you don’t like me like that, Joel,” you fire back with a smirk. “What is it you said exactly? Oh, right. ‘Get our girl messy, Francisco.’” You imitate Joel’s baritone, making him bark out a laugh. 

“Fine, I do love seeing you drippin’, darlin’,” Joel admits. “Whether it’s my cum or Frankie’s.” You bite your lip and giggle, basking in the glow of this new era of your relationship with Joel. You didn’t expect he’d be so enthusiastic to see you with Frankie.

The door pops open, Frankie emerging with a warm, damp washcloth for you. Although you reach for it, he tuts and gently pushes your hand away, insisting on wiping you down himself. He gently strokes the cloth across your skin, softly smiling and pressing kisses to your face and body as he does. Joel’s heart warms at the sight before him, seeing how well Frankie takes care of you.

Tossing the cloth back into the bathroom, Frankie gets up from the bed. “I’m going to get some water for us. Do you want cold water to help you cool down, or your usual water cocktail?” Frankie asks, always remembering your quirky penchant for filling your insulated water bottle first with hot water until halfway, and the rest with cold. 

“Water cocktail, please,” you giggle, snuggling further into the bedding.

Frankie grins, then lightly kisses your forehead, grabbing your water bottle off the bedside table in the process. He walks out, and you sigh contentedly.

“Wow, Frankie automatically includes Water Cocktail on his drink menu now, huh?” Joel chuckles.

You nod happily, grinning ear to ear. Laying your head on the pillow, you respond, “Yeah, he caught on fast. I think it was after the third week of seeing each other that he started asking if I wanted it instead of bringing me a glass of cold water. I didn’t even tell him explicitly, he just noticed me doing it.” You pause, brain pleasantly fuzzy in your post-orgasmic state. 

“I… I really like him, Joel,” you whisper, slowly fading as sleep creeps to you. You blink your eyes gently at Joel, who looks at you with the softest smile on his face, like you are the linchpin of his universe. 

“I know, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, his heart flipping in response. “I know.”

When Frankie re-enters the room with a glass of water and your water bottle, he notices how quiet it is. You lay burrowed under the covers, gently snoring, but he notices your phone is the only one on the video call anymore. His nerves zap a bit in concern, but then he replays the recent events back in his head. Joel seemed totally tolerant - nay, enthusiastic, to include Frankie into sex earlier. He doubts Joel left because he was upset; you probably fell asleep and he needed to go. Nonetheless, Frankie pics up your phone and exits the call, tapping around until he finds your message app.

Hey, that was really fun, he types out to Joel, a tiny flutter of nerves alight in his stomach. Excited to meet you tomorrow. Have a good rest of your night. – Frankie 

Staring at the words for a moment, he hits send before he can back out or second guess himself. Frankie then climbs into bed, wrapping himself around you before sleep claims him wholly.

a/n part 2: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and thank you for your patience! I had so much fun writing it and I’m proud to be able to share it with you. For those of you not familiar with Southern/Central CA, you can view photo references here: the Santa Cruz carousel, Hearst Castle, info on Ojai, and kayaking in Morro Bay.

Have thoughts/thots, feelings, SCREAMS, asks? My inbox is open! 💌

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[jolalibrary]

i read a lot on AO3 now, and don't always get to scream about them in my fic recs library on here, so welcome to "the peppered pages", pull up a chair!

*some of these works might be on tumblr, but my aim is to shout about what I've read on AO3. please read the warnings on fics.

tumblr fic recs | AO3 writers database | my AO3

stick buddies by @auteurdelabre francisco morales x f!reader | series enemies to friends to lovers / fake dating

dark heart by @almostfoxglove javier peña x f!reader | multi-chap/open series friends to lovers / dual pov

tool time by @covetyou joel miller x f!reader | oneshot cock worship, smut.

crazy on you by @goodwithcheese joel miller x f!reader | series smut, no outbreak, sneaking around

neighbourhood watch by @joelalorian francisco morales x f!reader | oneshot flirting, fluff and humourrrrr

thunder (only happens when it's raining) by @wheresarizona javier peña x f!reader | part of series, can be read as standalone husband!javi, comfort

see you at three by @almostfoxglove joel miller x f!reader | series no outbreak, slow burn, sweet/flirting

whatever my wife wants by @javierpena-inatacvest javier peña x f!reader | oneshot newly married, smut, chain wearing javi

landslide by @dancingtotuyo joel miller x f!reader | part of collection no outbreak, lil' something something wink wink

strike by @secretelephanttattoo joel miller x f!reader | complete no outbreak, bowling owner!joel miller, fluff

the outlaws by @mothandpidgeon joel miller x f!reader | series old west au, grumpy joel

whatever we left unspoken and... @flightlessangelwings din djarin x reader | oneshot protectiveness, smut

if you wish to have your work removed, just drop me a dm! otherwise see you in a week or so for the next round up.