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berryispunk · 2 days ago

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Your Home's Only a Town You're a Guest In

pairing: Frankie Morales x f! reader

quick note: this fic contains heavy topics such as grief and parental death so be warned before reading but I swear she's worth it 🤍

tags: parental death, stages of grief, brief mention of addiction, teenager love, falling in love again, small town, rekindling romance, soft! Frankie, girl dad! Frankie, swearing, ANGST, bad jokes, nicknames, yearning, mutual pining, kissing, friends to lovers, slow burn, SMUT (🌶️🌶️🌶️), did i mention angst?, all the emotions, reader has longer wavy hair and a fuller figure but no further physical description

summary: You never planned to return to your hometown but things change when you've got life-changing news and soon you find yourself trying to navigate the past colliding with the present.

word count: 10,6 k (don't ask me any questions 😅 idk what happened)

When you had left your hometown almost ten years ago you had never planned to come back.

But when one day your mom called and told you that your father was in hospice care, you thought it was the worst day of your life. It felt like a cruel joke. Out of all the reasons you would find yourself returning, it had to be because your dad was literally dying?

All the unspoken words and feelings between you and your father were crashing down on you, taking you the air to breathe immediately. Your mother had made it clear that nobody could say for sure how much time your father had left and it would be best if you came down quickly.

Whenever you told your friends in the big city about the town you grew up in, the beach and the waves’ constant presence during your adolescence, they would be jealous. You couldn’t blame them. How could they know all the downsides of growing up in an uptight town like Tidehaven?

The neighbors’ judging glances on the daily and them knowing stuff about you before you even knew them yourself?

Or how uneasy you felt the older you got?

How you never belonged, your spirit too wild and free for the norms of this small place.

You wanted to spread your wings but staying in this Godforsaken coast town would’ve cut them right off.

So you left one day and never looked back, no matter how many times your mom called crying and pleaded for you to come back.

You dreamed about the ocean often, because you missed the salty and harsh breeze.

You missed the calmness of sitting at the beach, listening to the waves crushing at the shore and the vast nothingness when you overlooked the horizon.

In contrast to that, the city was always buzzing. It never slept and that was one of the hardest parts you had to deal with when you first moved there. It was a whole different life and when you felt too big for your hometown, you felt entirely too small in the city. Almost like a nobody, like an anonymous person under all these many different people.

You missed the feeling of belonging, being part of a friend group. Because that was another thing you had left behind: your friends.

You stayed in contact for a while - hooray to tech - but it wasn’t the same.

Eventually you found new friends at college but they couldn’t understand your struggles like the friends back in Tidehaven did. They would never be able to share your pain.

You laid awake for days on end, dreading the journey to your coastal hometown. But you couldn’t run and you couldn't hide - not from this one. As much as you really didn’t want to, the responsible part in you won and you sat on the next plane to the closest airport of the little town.

On this late summer day, when the breeze was still somehow warm but the air already had notes of autumn in it, you returned “home”.

Well, it used to be home but now it felt like something that wore its costume but instead felt foreign and cold.

When you walked through your childhood home's front door, the screaking sound still the same, your mother looked around the corner and her face looked so much older even from a distance. Her hair was much greyer than you remembered.

The worry written all over her features had made her age like a forgotten piece of furniture tarnished by the tides. You felt tears pricking in the corners of your eyes as you let your luggage fall to the ground and walked over to her and hugged her close.

She almost crushed you with her arms and murmured, “My girl is home…” You had to bite your lip real hard not to sob. “Hey mama,” you whispered and she kissed your wavy hair repeatedly. This, you thought, felt like coming home.

You settled down in your childhood bedroom you had outgrown long ago, everything still looked like you remembered: the posters of your teen crushes, the pink floral throw blanket, all the books scattered around the small room. It felt like stepping into a time machine of your youth. Everything was neatly preserved and it tightened the knot in your chest even further.

You decided to visit the only place in this hellhole you were certain that had some alcohol you so desperately needed, the local bar.

So you threw on a fleece jacket before you walked through the empty streets of Tidehaven. The night air was almost too crisp for the shorts you were wearing but you didn’t have time to worry about it.

As soon as you reached the bar you slumped onto a stool at the bar and ordered some beverage strong enough to help you numb the gnawing pain of responsibility and regret. Halfway through your glass you suddenly heard it: a deep, familiar voice ringing in your ear. It was faint, almost not noticeable if you hadn’t listened close enough. But you listened very closely. The voice was deeper but still unmistakingly recognizable. So you whirled around on your bar stool and spotted him in a booth in the back of the bar, together with the same shared group of friends he had always been with. You froze in your seat and contemplated simply leaving, but you couldn't.

Could it really be him?

You tried to watch him as unobtrusively as you could but of course he noticed you staring and as your eyes locked it felt like time stood still, your chest immediately constricting, almost suffocating as you turned around and prayed that he hadn’t seen you. But of course you weren’t so lucky. When were you ever lucky? You emptied your drink quickly before you gestured to the barkeeper to give you a refill.

“Do you mind?” The voice from earlier, now dangerously close, asked you.

You shook your head, but you didn’t dare to look up. You knew it was him without looking.

“I’d say it feels like seeing a ghost, but I guess seeing ghosts should be scary. This isn’t scary, this is–”

“Sick? Twisted?” You interrupted him and you felt his confused eyes on you without ever having to look up. He laughed softly, the sound deep and rich as he ordered a drink for himself before sitting down on the stool next to yours.

“That wasn’t what I would’ve gone for but okay,” he said and you finally decided to look at him and immediately wished you hadn’t. It was him, no doubt. The same dark brown tousled locks poking out from under the old, worn-down baseball cap. The same warm brown eyes, slightly glimmering in the dim light of the bar. A slight stubble on his chin and cheeks that looked like it might need a trim soon. The same almost pouty lips, slightly dry looking and you wondered if this man knew chapsticks existed? His shoulders were so broad, his biceps so muscular when they flexed slightly under the jeans button-down he was wearing. You couldn't help but stare at him when he crossed his arms in front of his chest. This wasn’t the Frankie you’d last seen the night before you left. It was a new version, Frankie 2.0. The adult version.

He didn’t even flinch when you checked him out, your eyes dancing over every one of his unique features, trying to make sense of it. Putting together the puzzle pieces of the old Frankie and this rendition in front of you. He looked nothing like the tall, slender guy you had a huge crush on when you were a teenager but still it was him.

The warm expression on his face, an identical lopsided smile you remembered. But there was more to it. It was the way he handled himself - much more confident, taking in his rightful space. And the way his frame was built made him almost intimidating, if you hadn’t known better.

Well, you used to know him but how could you know if he wasn’t able to break you in half with these arms of his? Ten years had done a lot to his frame and you had a really hard time searching for words when you finally turned back around to sip at your drink.

“You know steroids are dangerous, right?” you scoffed and he gave you a deep, rumbling laugh.

“I guess you refer to my arms with that? I wanna let you know that it’s all just training and nothing illegal, I promise”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his remark.

“What did you train for? A bodybuilder contest?” you quirked an eyebrow and he shook his head, a grin still on his face. “Army,” he answered and you searched for his eyes.

“You’re in the army?”

“I was. I left last year. Wasn't useful anymore after this grenade exploded near me and the debris hit my leg during battle.“

“I am sorry.”

“No need,” he shrugged you off with a wave of his hand. “But you know, being in it for years and getting spit out like you didn’t literally sacrifice your life for the country isn’t a good feeling,” he said as he sipped his drink.

“Sounds awful…”

“It is.”

There’s a beat of silence before he asked, “What are you even doing here? You made it very clear that you’d never return.”

Was his tone accusatory or hurt? You couldn’t really tell.

You scoffed scornfully.

“Believe me, wasn’t my first choice,” you rolled your eyes before you sipped at your drink again.

He didn’t answer, instead he took a sip from his own drink, the ice in it clinking against the glass.

“My dad, he–” You couldn’t finish the sentence, too painful, too uncertain.

“I heard about your dad,” he said cautiously, his words measured.

“Of course you did,” you said bitterly. “This is Tidehaven, gossip spreads faster than a damn wildfire.”

“I am sorry, hermosa.”

The nickname made you nauseous immediately and you glared at him, your gaze probably full of venom. He had the audacity to sound sincere.

“Save your words for someone who cares,” you spit out, slamming money on the bar and standing up so abruptly the stool scratched loudly on the floor. His eyes were on you in an instant, eyebrows furrowed deep.

You headed towards the exit with fast steps, wanting to create some distance between him and all the feelings you had kept buried for so long. Out of all people it had to be him.

You didn’t have time for this, you couldn’t afford to be distracted.

When you reached the doorway of the bar his hand grabbed your arm, determined but not painful as he said, “Please, stay. I just… I just want to talk. I am sorry if I said something wrong. We just met again, please.”

His eyes were nothing less than pleading and you frowned heavily.

Under any other circumstance you would have loved to stay and talk, catch up on what you’ve missed over the years but right now the weight of everything threatened to crush you any minute and you were too tired for all that.

“I can’t Frankie, I am sorry,” you said and you meant it even when you freed your arm from his grip and walked down the steps to the road. The gravel crunching under your shoes, echoing through the eerie silence of the night as you walked as fast as your feet and equilibrium could handle.

You didn’t know if he’d kept standing in the doorway and watched you walking away or not, but something told you he had. Even if everything in you screamed to turn around you didn’t, because you knew that he’d be the one person able to tear down your walls that you had so arduously built around you.

As you laid in bed later that night with your window open the sound of the waves lulled you into a restless sleep and you found yourself in a common dream landscape. The beach.

But this time it was different. Somebody sat on the sand, the person’s back turned but you immediately knew it was Frankie, only he wore a cap at the beach. But as you approached him his figure dissolved, turning into smoke and when you finally stood where he had sat he’s gone fully and you sank to your knees, burying your head in your hands and starting crying.

When you wake up the next morning your pillow is full of tears and you felt like you got hit by a truck. A silent bing from your nightstand catched your attention when you lift your phone to see the notification and you immediately sat up in your small bed.

“Hey, this is Frankie. Sorry, got your number from your mom. 😅 Let’s meet at our place at the beach at 3 pm.”

Frankie was a pilot. He served in the army. He faced life threatening situations, learned to stay calm under any condition. But today, when he sat at the pier, his feet dangled in the water, his heart was racing like he just ran a damn marathon. He checked his digital watch. It was two minutes before 3 and he started patting his jeans clad thigh nervously. What if she didn’t show up? What if he made a total idiot of himself ? When he saw you yesterday in the bar it was like he got hit by lightning. It made his chest painfully tight, almost as bad as his panic attacks did when he had flashbacks from his army days. Maybe even worse. He overlooked the ocean, the waves crushing and creating a calming enough atmosphere he allowed himself to close his eyes for a second. The images of you as a younger girl and the women he saw yesterday were burned into his subconscious and he wasn’t really sure how this could be the same person he was in love with as a teen? Your eyes were still sad but also curious. Your hair still a wavy long mane past your shoulders and you still had this ever existing slight frown on your face like you were carrying the weight of the world on your face.

But to be fair, you probably had the same thoughts about him, at least given the way you looked at him last night. Almost pure disbelief, maybe even mild shock. When he was deeply lost in thought he sensed a weight next to him on the pier and his eyes opened immediately to watch you taking a seat, slumping onto the hard wood with a loud sigh.

He didn’t dare to say anything, afraid you may leave as soon as he opened his mouth.

Your gaze was fixed on the horizon as well before you started speaking “Wasn’t sure if I really came until the last minute.”

“I am glad you did” he replied, his own gaze still on the horizon before he added “How are–”

“Are you seriously asking me how I’m doing, Frankie?” your tone was biting.

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly as he mumbles “Guess so.”

You shook your head and scoffed. “I am doing absolutely great. I am back in this hellhole, my dad is dying but I don’t know when so I’m stuck at the one place on earth I don’t wanna be at,” you rumbled.

Frankie could feel your frustration and hurt seeping out of every word. But mostly he could feel the sadness. You had a way of covering your real feelings under a heavy load of sarcasm, you always did. Some things never change, he thought. Even if the woman sitting next to him looked and handled herself so different from the girl he used to know, under all the layers of pain and heartbreak it was still you.

“I am sorry, hermosa. I really am,” he said sincerely and for a fragment your facade crumbled, the worry and all the other negative emotions flickering over your face.

“Can I do something?” he asks tentatively. You shook your head again.

You straightened a bit in your seat, putting your hands under your thighs, your feet still dangling down as you look onto the water before you ask “How have you been ? Did you never leave Tidehaven, or…?”

He took a deep breath. “I did leave for basic training in the military. Was gone for most of the time, overseas missions, fought a lot of wars in and out of my job. But hey, at least I can fly an aircraft.”

“Wait…” you chimed in. “You are a pilot?”

“Yes ma’am. I can fly any aircraft, but I prefer helicopters if I have the choice.” “Wow”, you exhaled and his mouth lifted up to a faint,proud smile.

“Well, technically I was able to fly an aircraft. Lost my license a while back.”

“Oh, why’s that?” you didn’t shy away from asking the real questions, you never did.

“Drugs.”

“Drugs? Consuming or smuggling ?”

“Consuming, coke to be exact. Yeah, definitely not my brightest moment. I have been clean for over two years now though.”

“That’s… great” you say thinly and he couldn’t quite interpret your answer. Were you just surprised or was it judgement ?

“Do you… have a family? A wife?” you asked so quietly he almost thought he didn’t hear it correctly.

Another sore point.

“I have a daughter, Sofía. She's two years old now and lives with her mom. We’re divorced for almost as long as she’s old. I married her mom Ella because I thought I needed to, my parents doing the rest, you know how old-fashioned they are.We have shared custody and I see her as often as I can.”

You chuckled. Of course you remembered about his parents. You weren’t allowed to stay overnight at his house when the two of you were younger, but that didn’t stop you from sneaking around anyway and finding other places to make out at.

“I thought I’m doing the right thing, you know. Being responsible. Truth was, even if Sofía is my everything, she wasn’t exactly planned and her mom and I were already thinking about breaking up before she found out that she was expecting. So, I felt the need to stay and I really tried to be the man Ella needed me to be but I failed miserably. Being coked out all the time doing the rest. The short temper and not to mention the financial aspect of the addiction. All my money I earned went straight to drugs or stuff we needed for our child. So I quit the drugs cold turkey, being clean as soon as Sofía was born and by God, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But as soon as I held this little girl in my arms everything kind of fell into place. I know it probably sounds super cheesy, but it’s the truth. This little girl was my new anchor, my reason to keep clean and to show up. And it worked out for a few months. But her mom and I didn’t. We kept fighting over the smallest things and I was so close to relapsing because of the emotional turmoil that we, in good terms, decided to call it quits. To be honest, I think we never were a good match anyway, but I’ll be forever thankful for the result of it: my daughter. Her mom is with this guy called Clint now and honestly, they really found each other. She even married him last year and is expecting her second child. And I hope she’s happy, it seems that she is at least. She deserves the good life I wasn’t able to give her.”

He took a deep breath. It’s been a long time since he talked this much and over his life in general. But you had this way of coaxing something out of him without pressuring. You would’ve had the right to judge, to ask more questions he would answer truthfully even if it hurt, but you didn’t. He looked at you for a moment, studying you, contemplating if he may have bored you with his rambling or anything, but you just kept your gaze fixed on the vast expense of the ocean and the ghost of a smile before you turned to him. “So, Frankie Morales is a daddy?” you asked, almost a bit mocking and he grinned in response.

“I am a daddy. Does that make me a hot dilf now?” he joked and promptly earned a shoulder bump and an eye roll from you. That was the sassy side of you he missed so much.

“And you? Do you—?”

“Hell no”, you laughed. “Kids aren’t for me. At least I never saw myself as a mom and to be fair I never had a partner long enough to even have to worry about the possibility of that.”

He nodded, maybe frowning a little bit too.

“Where have you been the last ten years?”

You wiggled a bit on your place before you answered “The city. I went there for college and stayed for the job I got after graduating. It’s so so different from here. All the lights, endless possibilities of wasting money and getting wasted yourself. The city is…” you drifted off a bit, your gaze suddenly so far away.

“The city is anonymous, buzzing. She’s like an animal, alive and thriving as long as it’s getting fed, which in my case were with my hopes and dreams, I guess” you tried to joke, to make it sound casual but Frankie looked right through it. You were disappointed.

“The city always was your dream. Your light was too bright and your spirit way too big for this sleepy town. What changed?”

“I did,” you answered sharply and the words hung heavy in the air. It was eerie silent for a long moment, the only sound the ones from the waves crashing against the pier.

“It’s not that I regret going away, really. But it turned out to be so different from what I expected it to be. I thought moving to the city would magically make me feel better but to be honest it only made it worse. I felt so lost and so alone. The friends I had, our friends, still here or scattered around the country. I thought fulfilling my dream in the city would make me feel complete, but it shattered me even more. Because I now call two places “home” and none really feels like it.”

Your words struck a chord deep inside of him. He knew the feeling of not belonging, especially after leaving the military.

He stayed silent, waiting if you maybe opened up some more, but you didn’t.

“So, do you have someone in the city waiting for you when-if- you return ?”

“No”, you answered and somehow it filled Frankie with relief.

“How about you?” you asked, your eyes roaming over him for a moment, wandering over his whole body and it made him unusually nervous.

“No one,” he said quietly.

“Good” you said and a small smile tugged at your lips before your gaze was back at the horizon before you added “Where do you live ? Your parents' house?”

“Si, it’s only my dad now you know. My mom died last autumn.”

“Oh shit” you mumbled quietly and your brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, Frankie.”

He sighed heavily, his shoulders slagging. The memory of his mom’s passing was still undoubtedly painful.

“I–” he paused, “I don’t know how much longer my dad is around. They were together their whole life, he’s so lost without her and I can’t fill the space up she left behind, no matter how hard I try.”

“That’s not your job. Your job is to be present and let him know he’s not alone. And I’m certain you’re doing everything you can, he knows that too. It’ll never be the same again, sadly. Just cherish the time you have with him now, yeah?”

There you were. Beneath all the stoicism, the tough exterior, the big sadness. You cared, you always did and you always made his problems feel less big. It was one of the things he always adored about you and something he deeply missed.

“I may count on you now, you know. In the ‘I lost a parent’-department. Haven’t got any experience in that.”

He chuckled. “Wouldn’t recommend this experience. I’d rate this a 0 out of 5 stars but I am here for you. If you want me to, that is.”

You turned your face to him again, your lips pressed tightly together in a small line when you held his gaze for a long moment before you answered. “I’d love to have you around. After all you may be the best thing this place ever had, well, besides the beach of course.”

“Is that a compliment?” he raised an eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

“Oooh, Morales. Don’t get cocky now, I just wanted to be nice you know. After everything you told me you may be as equally lost as I am.”

“Noted”, he gently nudged your shoulder. “You’re also the best thing this place has ever seen, just for the record and I–” he lowered his gaze, fixing a point onto the water beneath his feet. “I missed you.”

Maybe he said too much, was too straight forward, overestimating the small bond that blossomed between the two of you. But if he learnt one thing after the loss of his mom it was that you never know when you’ll have the chance again to say something nice to the people you care about, so he did just that.

Just when he thought about adding something to make the meaning of his words less heavy, he felt your head on his shoulder, slightly leaning against him, your voice almost swallowed by the ocean. “I missed you too.”

And Frankie’s heart skipped a beat at your little confession. The two of you stayed like this until the sun set behind the horizon, tinting everything in orange hues and it was exactly what he needed without knowing before.

Days blended into weeks with Frankie by your side. You spent every waking hour together. Eating with his dad, cooking together, going for walks at the beach. If you weren’t at his house, he was at yours, eating with your mom, making her laugh even if anything else felt so grey and heavy and the health of your dad was quickly deteriorating. The first time he came over for dinner he apologized for intruding, but your mom shrugged it off and said it was typical for you to bring anyone home like strays. Frankie shooted you a look at the word ‘stray’ and you smirked in response. It was this day his nickname ‘stray cat’ was born and it became a habit calling him that ever since.

Frankie was the light in the darkness for you. He was your lighthouse guiding you in the rough sea that called itself your life and even if you swore you wouldn’t let anyone close enough to hurt you again, Frankie tore down your walls brick by brick without your alarm bells ringing. He was patient, he was understanding and he never demanded anything. He was happy with what you offered him as long as it meant he could be by your side.

One evening when the two of you sat on the front porch of his house, the breeze was now way too cold for summer clothing, but you stupidly didn’t pack anything warmer in your hurry, you shivered in the harsh ocean air. Frankie rose up from his seat on the bench without saying a word and went inside. Holding a hoodie of his and offering it to you. “You’re freezing, hermosa” he said and you looked at him, so deeply touched by this gesture, the pure thoughtfulness of it made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You quickly threw the piece of clothing over your head and as soon as you had it on it felt like a warm hug. His smell was so present, wrapping you up in it like a cocoon it made your chest tight with affection. You cared for him so deeply, maybe even fell in love with him again, but you kept a respectful distance because he was the one good thing in your life you had right now and you couldn’t afford to lose him because of the disaster you usually were in relationships.

“Thank you” you smiled softly at him and he nodded, the charming boyish grin on his face making the butterflies in your stomach go wild.

“Can I ask you something?” you asked tentatively.

“Sure.”

You took a deep breath to collect some courage.

“Why did you never reach out to me? After I left, I mean. Our friends did, they texted and sent me photos. But you…”

Frankies face darkened, his brows furrowed deep. Something unreadable in his expression. “Honestly? I thought you didn’t want me to do that. You were so convinced to leave everything connected to Tidehaven behind I thought it included me. I had your number,my thumb hovered over the call button more times than I would care to admit. I wrote probably hundreds of texts but ended up deleting them all. And the more time passed, the more silly I felt. So I just checked in with Santi or Benny, who knew how you were and even if I was happy to hear that you were good I still selfishly wished I would know it myself.”

“Frankie,” you interrupted, “I cried my eyes out for weeks because I didn’t hear from you again. I thought you just forgot about me that easily, I thought you never really cared for me in the first place or at least not enough to reach out. Santi told me you joined the army, he gave me your number and I wanted to call you, but what could I possibly have said ? ‘hey, it’s me, you remember me? i was the girl helplessly in love with you but you just ditched me like a fucking prom date’”

Frankie audibly inhaled, his gaze fixed on the ground under his feet.

“I didn’t ditch you. You were the one that left, remember? I never forgot about you, never.”

“It would’ve been so easy. One message, one call, anything that showed me you still cared” you said, every word tasting bitter on your tongue.

“I never stopped caring, hermosa.”

He could’ve shot you or stabbed you it would've hurt the same as his words just did. Hot, angry tears blur your vision as you stand up and leave his home. With every step you took the vice around your heart tightened further and when you reached your own house you quickly ran upstairs into your room and fell into your pillow headfirst and started crying everything out.

The frustration, the hurt, the anger. It was a dangerous cocktail of feelings. Your phone on the nightstand buzzed multiple times, you knew it was probably Frankie but you weren’t ready to talk to him. You needed time to process this.

You didn’t know what hurted more: his absence or the fact your mother kept asking if he’s okay because he didn’t eat with you for a few days. She should ask you how you felt instead.

One evening the doorbell rang just when you were setting the table for dinner. Maybe it was one of the neighbors returning a container your mom gave them when she shared some left-over food with them because she used to cook for a whole football team.

“I’ve got it” you hollered towards the kitchen to your mom as you opened the door. It wasn’t a neighbor, it was Frankie. Live and in color.

“Hey” he murmured, lifting his baseball cap, running a hand through his locks before he put it back on. He always did that, even back in highschool when he was nervous. Some things seem to still stay the same, even if the adult Frankie was physically so far away from the slender boy ten years ago, somewhere beneath the broad shoulders and the strong arms was still the same boyish heart.

“Hey”, you answered sharply, contempt probably written all over your face.

“Honey, is that…?” the voice of your mom joining the two of you in the hallway and her whole face lit up immediately as she spotted Frankie standing in the doorway.

“Frankie, come on in. Food is ready” she beckoned him in with her hand and Frankie looked over to you first, as if he was silently asking for permission but you just huffed and rolled your eyes as you stepped aside and closed the door behind him.

He followed your mom into the living room, moving his weight indecisively from one foot to another as he stood there. His tall, broad frame filled out so much room but still he looked so small compared to how confident he usually was.

“Have a seat, Frankie” your mom said as she placed the food onto the table. It smelt absolutely delicious and your stomach growled in anticipation.

“Thank you Mrs. Davis,” he said politely as he took a seat across from you.

You watched him hawk eyed as your mom put some food on his plate, like it was the most normal thing in the world and you weren’t still seething under the surface. The poor woman was painfully unaware of the little talk you just had a few days ago.

“How’s your dad doing, hun’?” she asked while she started eating. Small talk, great.

“He’s alright. Maybe a bit lonely, but he started doing crosswords and sometimes I can talk him into taking a walk with me. But he misses my mom and so do I, honestly” his eyes were suddenly so sad, so sorrowful you forgot your anger for a moment.

“Yeah, I can imagine…” your mom answered, her gaze fixed on the plate in front of her, toying with her food. She felt it too. The impending grief, the waiting for the day your dad’s heart stopped beating. It was like looking in a mirror, hearing Frankie talk about his parents and his mom’s death. She would feel lonely too, there was no doubt in that. You reached out to gently pat her thigh under the table in silent reassurance and earned a small lipped smile in return. You turned your head towards Frankie, almost on instinct but he was already looking at you.

After a while of uncomfortable silence your mom changed the topic and asked Frankie about his daughter and suddenly the man in front of you was changed. He straightened his seat, a wide smile on his face the whole time he talked about Sofía. He was so proud, telling you about her love for animals and drawing and you felt something glimmering in your chest. Daddy Frankie was a whole different guy, he was so genuinely happy to just talk about his child it was contagious. You couldn’t help but smile too the wider his grin got when he told stories about the potty training of her or when she accidentally made a somersault when she wanted to reach for something. It was absolutely adorable and at the end of the evening everyone was in good spirits and your mom demanded that if Sofía visited Frankie the next time he should come around so she could meet her and he agreed happily.

When you brought Frankie to your front door, he stood in the doorway, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “Thanks for not kicking me out…” he stifled a laugh and you shook your head.

“Thank my mom, not me. If it were up to me you wouldn’t even make it in,” you crossed your arms.

“I know, I– look,” he started taking a deep breath. “I am sorry. And I know no amount of words I can say will undo the damage I did. I was an idiot. But I like you so damn much and it’s killing me to not be around you, especially now that I finally got you back. Please, yell at me, hit me ,do anything you want but don’t push me away again.”

His eyes. His damn puppy dog eyes were lethal as he searched for yours and you sighed.

You crossed your arms before you answered. “We were young and dumb. We both made mistakes. I guess I can forgive you, stray cat”, you even managed a small smile and he mirrored it with a soft one of his own. “Thank you” he murmured.

“Don’t make me regret this” you warned, lifting your index finger in a warning gesture and he raised his hands in mock resignation before he said: “Come here.”

He pulled you against his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist and you hugged him back, your face buried against his shirt, smiling as you inhaled his familiar scent.

“You’re so God damn stubborn, hermosa”

“I am well aware”, you mumbled but the grin on your face was brighter than the porch light you two stood under.

You lifted your head, your chin resting against his chest and he looked down on you. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and you leaned into his touch, your head resting in his big hand and his breath hitched slightly at the simple but undeniably intimate gesture. His hand wandered from your cheek to your chin, pinching it slightly as he grinned at you.

“You’re as infuriating as you're beautiful, you know that?” he whispered, his eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes so quickly you may have not noticed if you weren’t in this close proximity. You bit your lip, your own eyes hanging onto his lips which looked so plush and kisseable in the dim light of the front porch. He bit his lip for a moment, his gaze drifting away. He was battling with himself, you could see it.

“You’re gonna kiss me now or what ,Morales?” you challenged.

His head tilted back towards you immediately, his eyes confused for a second before they turned soft again and he dipped his head to kiss you. A quick, cautious peck first, kind of testing the waters, assessing the damage he may have done but you just grinned at him and your hand found the back of his neck, pulling him down towards you and kissing him deeply. It was incredible. If you thought kissing him as a teenager was an experience then this was a whole damn revelation.

His lips worked against yours with so much gentleness and purpose, but still left absolutely no room for his intentions. His hand tangled in your hair when he walked you back until you hit the facade of your house with your back. His knee between your legs and his hard frame pressing you against the wall. His tongue now seeking entrance into your mouth, exploring every inch of you as you tightened the grip in the ape of his neck, gasping softly into the kiss. It felt like burning up from the inside, but it was worth it. “Dios”, he cursed against your lips. “We have to stop,” he almost whimpered as your foreheads rested against each other, both of you panting. You opened your eyes back up and his gaze on you was dark as you caressed the back of his neck. “I don’t want you to stop” you mewled and his eyebrows raised up, almost disappearing under the visor of his cap before he murmured “Are you sure?”

“I am” you reassured him and without hesitation he grabbed your hand and led you through the empty streets of Tidehaven towards his house. The street lights illuminating your way and tinting everything in a mysterious glow.

When you arrived at his house it was dark, no light on despite the one on the front porch when he impatiently fumbled with his keys to let you both inside. You giggled softly and suddenly it felt like all the years back when you were teenagers that were afraid to get caught.

His hand was on the small of your back when he ushered you inside and as soon as the door was closed he found your lips in the dark again, pressing you against the closed front door. His hand rested on your cheek and he devoured your mouth like he was starving. You couldn’t help but giggle again at both his eagerness and the situation as you whispered “And your dad ? What if he–?”

His lips trailed down from your mouth to your jaw and then your neck as he answered hoarsley “He’s taking sleeping pills, he won’t wake up that easily. If you’re too loud I have to find a way to keep you quiet though” he grinned and sucked at the place right behind your ear that was one of your most sensitive spots and elicited a soft moan out of you.

It was like a flip switched inside of Frankie as he hooked his hands under your thighs to hoist you up, his mouth still attached to your neck as he carried you down the hall and opened the door with one hand while he still held you up with the other. He kicked it close with his foot as soon as the two of you were inside. He didn’t even bother to turn on any lights as he gently let you down onto his bed. The only light illuminating the room was the cold blue moonlight from outside. He hovered over you, his eyes, although it was dark, were intense on you and it made your heart race in anticipation.

“Are you sure you want this?”, he asked again. You never were more sure of anything.

You just nodded as you started to undress him, starting by pulling his shirt over his head revealing a strong chest and a softer belly. You traced your fingers along his sides and he flexed under your touch. This body was different from the one you remembered. It changed, made room for some extra weight around his midsection and some scars adoring his beautiful lightly tanned skin which weren’t there the last time you saw him naked.

But he was still undeniably attractive, if not more with the strong arms and broad shoulders. A trail of dark, soft hair along his stomach, around his belly button and ending right over the belt of his jeans. You started kissing his neck, nibbling at his collarbone and he rewarded you with a sharp inhale of air. You took your time, drinking him in and he started kissing you back, his teeth grazing over your soft skin as soon as he discarded your shirt, leaving you only in your black lace bralette. He kissed down between the valley of your breasts, his breath hot against your skin as his hand found the clasp of your underwear. “Can I take this off?” he asked.

“Yes”, you breathed and he opened the clasp, the straps gliding down your shoulders, his fingertips never leaving your skin as the fabric slid off and left you exposed for his exploring hands and hungry gaze.

He was transfixed, his gaze almost reverential as he took you in.

“You’re even more gorgeous than I remember, hermosa” he whispered as he started kissing your shoulder. It made you feel desired but also so vulnerable. You weren’t used to praise and most importantly not to someone being this gentle with you.

“Well, I was still a teen back then. I changed… got fatter,” you complained but he quickly shushed you with a kiss.

“You may have gotten more soft but you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Give yourself some credit.”

He was sincere in the way he looked at you, his fingers still tracing over every dip and curve of your exposed skin, every stretch mark you hated so much and your heart constricted in your chest at his gentleness and the way he didn’t seem to care at all.

You tried so hard to not let the old feelings bubble up again but it was a hopeless battle. He didn’t even need to try, he was naturally attentive, he always has been and it’s one of the things you adored the most about him.

His lips trailed down to your breasts, kissing every one of them softly before his tongue swirled around your hardened nipples, giving every breast the same attention.

He kneaded the one he wasn’t spoiling with his mouth and groaned softly against your skin. His hips start rolling against you, seeking the friction you both so desperately needed.

You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, bucking your hips to meet him and you were greeted with the rock hard outlines of his dick, even noticeable through the fabric of his jeans. You opened the belt and the zipper, pulled the fabric down, quickly followed by his boxers as well.

He wiggled a bit to kick off the pants and was above you again in an instant, doing the same with your shorts and underwear.

As soon as the last bit of fabric was gone the air was even more electrified. It was a strange mix of anticipation and something more you couldn’t quite put into words.

He stopped his administration on your chest and kissed all the way back up to your neck and to your jaw until he found your lips again. It was a messy, open mouthed kiss as you wrapped your arms and legs around him, pressing him als close against you as you could, wanting to feel every inch of him.

His skin hot and melting yours, every nerve ending of yours on fire.

“Do you need me to get a condom or are you on birth control?” he asked and in every other circumstance this would be a mood killer, not with Frankie though.

He was responsible and you appreciated that greatly.

“I am, don’t worry” you breathed into the dark.

He searched for your eyes before his hand wandered down your body, his fat fingers sliding between your folds, already wet and leaking just from making out with him as he grinned satisfied, his teeth flashing in the pale moonlight.

“Damn, so wet all because of me?” he teased and you glared at him.

“Don’t tease me, Morales”, you warned, trying to sound at least a bit firmer than you felt inside but you clearly failed.

“‘m sorry” he purred as he latched onto your neck again, his flat thumb now pressing against your clit while the other two digits glided inside of you. You moaned instantly at the impact, one hand finding his soft locks, helplessly pulling at them as he pushed them in-and out of your slick with practiced ease.

The noise it was creating was almost obscene but you couldn’t find yourself to care. After a few movements you felt him shifting slightly, his hand now on his hardened cock, giving himself a few strokes before his tip teased your entrance and your grip on his hair only tightened.

“Frankie, please” you whimpered pathetically.

“I know”, he assured you, gripping your thighs and pulling you just a tiny bit closer to him, lifting your hips slightly before he finally, torturously slow, eased into you and stretched you out completely.

You didn’t remember if he was that big when you still were younger, but god damn that hurt. “Fuck”, he hissed. “You’re so damn tight I can’t–” he rambled helplessly as his head rested against your shoulder.

You wiggled impatiently, wanting so desperately for him to start moving. “It’s okay,” you murmured. “You’re not hurting me.”

Your confirmation was what he needed so he bottomed out completely, his pubic hair tickling your most sensitive area and it was heavenly.

He moaned deeply as your nails found his shoulder blades, digging into his flesh as his grip on your hips tightened as well, the intensity almost bruising.

“I wanted this for so long, dreamed about this…” he whispered against your hot skin, like it wouldn’t change everything.

It made your heart skip and you inhaled sharply.

What were you even supposed to answer when he was balls deep into you and your mind too dazed to form any coherent thought?

His thrusts were deep and powerful as if he wanted to show you with every single one how much he cared for you, how much he needed you. It was unlike anything else, the air thick and sultry with the smell of both of you and all the unspoken words between you.

This was a declaration on its own, one you weren’t even sure you were ready for, but there was turning back now.

You held desperately onto him as his movements fastened and grew more determined.

He gritted his teeth thrusting into you relentlessly while still making sure you never felt uncared for when he placed soft kisses everywhere he could reach.

“I-I’m so close, please don’t stop…” you moaned, pressing yourself against his hard frame.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he answered and without warning he took you at your ankles, pulling you up until your heels were resting against his shoulders and the new angle was incredible. He stroked your cervix with every snap of his hips, deliciously deep and mind altering.

In this position he grabbed your tits with his big, calloused hands, kneading them before his thumbs played with your nipples and it was all you needed to find your release.

You clenched tightly around him and he hissed in response.

“Yes, I need you to come for me. I need to– fuck!” he cursed as you felt him pulsating inside of you and following your climax just seconds later. He painted your inner walls with thick ropes of his cum and didn’t stop spilling into you as you cried out his name almost too loud for the quietness of the night.

His whole body shuddered against you before he gently let your legs sink down and collapsed next to you, panting heavily from exertion. His cheeks slightly flushed.

You turned onto your side to face him. Your hand reached out, stroking some damp strands that stuck against his forehead from his face as you grinned widely. Utterly satisfied and spent you mumbled “Not bad, stray cat” and it was a weak attempt at a joke because you were still equally as breathless.

“Not bad?” he choked out, his face mock shock as he turned his head towards you.

“I am wounded, hermosa,” and you both laughed in unison.

He pulled you against his side, his arm wrapped around your shoulders and kissing your hair.

It should feel foreign, maybe even a bit awkward but it didn’t. You felt contendly like you probably never did before and it equally scared you and made you feel at ease.

You drifted into a deep sleep while he was holding you and tracing circles with his thumb over your back. You didn’t know how long you even slept, probably not so much but when you opened your eyes back up it almost burnt your eyesight.

You groaned and blinked a few times into the bright sunlight.

Doesn’t this man have some blinds?

Still pretty much naked you turned around and stretched, feeling the impact of last night in every fiber of your body. You reached next to you, expecting Frankie still laying there but the bedside was empty. You turned your head abruptly before you sat up, only the blanket covering your modesty.

You outstretched an arm to reach for your phone to check the time or maybe expecting a message from him, but there was none. It was 7a.m and you fell back into the pillow with a heavy sigh, blowing a wild strand of your hair out of your face.

The fall was deep and hurted more than you cared to admit. You should’ve known better. He got what he wanted and now he is gone. Leaving you alone in his damn bed in his parents’ house and disposing you like you were some trash. Like all the other men before him did too.

You felt the hot feeling of anger building up inside of you when the door of his bedroom opened with a soft screak.

You didn’t even bother to look up, your arms crossed as you started at the ceiling.

Suddenly you felt a weight on the edge of the bed and the next thing your senses catched was the smell of freshly brewed coffee before his voice broke the silence.

“Good morning, I made us some coffee. Thought you may appreciate the liquid gold after last night”,his voice nothing more than a soft gravelly rumble in the stillness.

You propped up on an elbow to be able to look at him. His hair was a messy mop on his head, wearing the same t-shirt from last night and his boxers only.

It was a delightfully disheveled sight to behold.

His eyes were tired but his smile, God his smile, was brighter than the sun shining through the windows.

“I thought you changed your mind”, you pouted.

His brows creased in confusion. “Changing my mind about what? You? This?”

You nodded as you reached for the coffee cup he placed onto the bedside table.

“Never. I was just up a bit earlier and made sure to get us some coffee and maybe some breakfast too if you’re up for it.”

You sipped at the coffee, the hot liquid almost burning your lips. “Breakfast sounds great” you mumbled but not looking up from your mug. The steam dancing between the two of you he extended his free hand to rake it through your hair, a soft but mischievous smile on his lips.

“What is this smile about, Morales?” you asked and his smile turned into a full blown grin.

“I was thinking maybe we can go for round two before we grab some breakfast. Unless you’re too tired–”

You placed the coffee mug on the bedside table again before he even finished his sentence. You climbed into his lap, straddling him and his arms wrapped around you immediately. The sun was shining through the windows, creating a soft halo around you as his hands danced up and down over your bare back, the golden hues in his brown eyes sparkling when he looked up to you, tilting his head slightly to have a better look. “I could get used to this” he murmured against your skin, kissing your forehead, your temple, followed by your nose before he captured your lips in a soft kiss.

“You better do, because you won’t get rid of me that easily from now on” and it was a promise.

Five days later your dad died. He stopped breathing during the night and when your mom entered the bedroom her scream echoed through the whole house. It was exactly as awful as you imagined it to be, maybe even worse. You tried your best to be there for her,making sure she ate enough. But most of the time she was staring out of the window or playing absentmindedly with her wedding ring when she sat at the diner table, the same tea cup in front of her as in the morning. The days dragged on, functioning on autopilot and everything felt heavy and tinted in grey. Frankie never left your side, held you close the whole night until your tears subsided and you passed out from exhaustion.

At his funeral it was raining. How fitting, you thought to yourself. The sky mirroring your agony.

Everyone in Tidehaven attended the funeral and you didn’t want to see any of them. No one cared for you or your mom when he still was alive, they didn’t need to pretend they did now. It was hypocritical and your contempt grew even more. This was all this town could do after all, pretending.

Frankie’s hand was on the small of your back the whole time, his intense gaze flickering through the crowd to check for any potential misbehavior, but nobody acted up thankfully. It were just the same old judging, tired glances as usual.

As the casket was lowered into the soil you couldn’t hold back a silent sob as your mom reached for your hand and squeezed it so tight it almost felt like breaking. You didn’t dare to say a word the whole day. You felt paralyzed for a time after that.

Frankie’s presence was a silent shadow at your back, when you asked your mom if she needed anything, he did the same for you. It was this day you were certain, despite not believing in it before, you would marry this man because he was your rock through it all. Never complaining, never demanding anything. Just offering silent support whenever needed.

When the worst was over, the grief only an unwelcome guest in the back of your mind you started to find some solace again. Sitting at the beach, listening to the waves crashing, even some music. You would probably never be the same again, but maybe that was okay. The old you never felt at ease somewhere. Not in the city, not in Tidehaven. But you felt at home in one place: Frankie’s arms.

You ended up staying in Tidehaven for way longer than you would’ve imagined. Weeks turned into months, into a year. You watched nature go through the seasons while you did the same. You changed, in more ways than one. When they were disappointment and sadness before it evolved into something more positive. Frankie made you see things differently. You started to experience real joy again. Not every day was perfect, of course not. But you finally felt like you belonged. Something you searched for your whole life. Turns out the only thing missing was him. All the pain you endured in his absence led you back into his arms after all. When it was almost summer again, the two of you sitting at the pier, watching the sunset he fell down onto one knee and asked you if you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. It wasn’t a grand romantic gesture, but you didn’t need that anyway. You knew he was sincere in his words and actions and that was all you needed as you agreed when tears streamed down your face. He hasn't stopped smiling ever since.

“Hey dad,” you said as you kneeled down onto his tombstone, placing fresh lilies, his favorite flowers, onto it. You gently removed some fallen leaves from his grave. “Just came to tell you the news. Frankie asked me to be his wife and I said yes. How could I not? I wish you could see how happy he makes me, daddy. He’s also a damn menace sometimes, but he…he can handle me. And you know, how hard that is. After all I come after you with my stubbornness,” you chuckled softly. “I would’ve loved to have you walking me down the aisle. I know you and I weren't always on good terms, but I think this is something so special for a daughter and her dad and I am sad we can’t experience that together,” your voice was slightly breaking as you played with your engagement ring. A simple silver band with a small diamond princess cut. “I love him, dad. So so so much. But I also love you and I miss you and I am sorry I wasn’t always the best daughter and I am sorry I left you alone with mom for so long. I wish I could go back in time to spend more time with you. Even watch these damn quiz shows you loved so much with you where nobody really ever won something for real. I’m gonna keep a chair empty for you at the ceremony. You can imagine how excited mom is for this damn wedding. I guess for a time she lost hope her daughter would ever settle down. Well, for a long time I did too. But he changed my outlook on things. Oh and, I am also a stepmom now. You know I never wanted kids, but I love Frankie’s daughter endlessly and I think maybe she doesn’t find me that bad as well, at least I hope so,” you exhaled deeply before you finally rose back to your feet again, spotting Frankie standing a bit far off, a soft smile on his face, his hands folded demurely in front of his pants crotch.

You lifted a questioning eyebrow. “How long are you standing there already?”

“Not for long”, he answered as he stepped towards you. “You okay?” his brown eyes worried.

“I am. Just told my dad about all that happened. Give him a quick summary, you know,” your left hand resting on Frankie’s chest, your thumb gently stroking the fabric of his Henley, your gaze fixed there. “It’s getting easier, you know. Coming here.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s kind of healing isn’t it ? Having a place to still be able to talk to them.”

You nodded. “Did you visit your mom already?”

“No, I was hoping you would come with me. So I could show her your ring and all,” he took your hand that was on his chest, kissing your knuckles, his thumb tracing over your engagement ring.

“Yeah, sure,” you retorted as you searched for his eyes. “You think she’ll approve ?”

His lips lifted up into a lopsided smile. “No doubt.”

He took your hand in his as you walked over the cemetery. It was quiet and peaceful. In the past you kind of avoided places like this because your thoughts would be too loud when your surroundings were silent like this but that finally changed now.

As you reached the grave of his mom, fresh flowers in the vase he must’ve put in there before you came here, you stopped. His hand still holding yours, his grip slightly tightening when he looked at you, his gaze a mix of different emotions.

He never brought you here before and you knew how important this was for him.

You squeezed his hand reassuringly, giving him a tender smile, trying to give him the same amount of support like he always did. He lowered his gaze a bit as you turned your head towards the grave, still holding his hand, not budging even a bit as you hugged his arm now with your other hand.

“Hey, Mrs. Morales. I don’t know if you’re aware but I am pretty much in love with your son and I can’t wait to marry him even if I never thought I’d do that honestly”, you snickered and Frankie scoffed softly next to you.

“He’s a good person. The best if I may say so myself. You would be so proud of him, I know that, because I am. And I am also so damn grateful to be able to call him mine.”

It was silent for a long, meaningful moment after you finished speaking, the only sound was the soft pattering of the starting rain and Frankie’s breathing which was a bit ragged.

“Let’s get you home, okay?” he spoke silently, his voice slightly hoarse with emotion.

You tightened your grip on his arm and placed a soft kiss against the side of his neck, your breath ghosting over his skin. “I am already home.”

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