#just two little nosy bitches enabling each other
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"So important that you should've taken notes?" Macey sat up, interest immediately piqued. Wether it was having lived there for so long, or exposure from their jobs, or just being friendly and well connected, having the gossip on everyone they knewâand speculating about it togetherâwas one of the tiny joys in their life. She took an incredulous sip of her coffee, moving in closer so she was pressed up against his side, "What the fuck kind of tea did you find that was so important? We gotta get to the bottom of this, babe. Who do you remember talking to?"
"Hmmm." Brent was slurping his coffee so he didn't respond with words. Where to start? Brent had a feeling he wanted to tell her something. But the latter part of the night was mostly a blur, and before that... that felt very long ago. "It was a time," he said, nodding. "I actually had a lot of fun. Caught up with a lot of people, too, and... Mmm, there's something I wanted to tell you." Brent furrowed his brow, trying to piece the memory together. "Damn, I drank too much." It was so stupidly obvious it made him laugh into his mug. He drank some more coffee, then sighed. "I should have taken notes or something."
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All Hail The King
Rating: Explicit (18+)
Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader
Warnings: Alcohol, oral sex, p in v sex, praise kink. Iâm a horny bitch, okay? This is purely indulgent.
Word count: 5k
Authorâs note: Special thanks to @wyn-dixieâ for reading this over before I posted it and for enabling this filth. â¤ď¸ This idea entered my brain randomly and I had to write it out. Please let me know what you think! I want your feedback. If I had Photoshop I would have made an edit of Frankie with a crown for this but I donât have it so hereâs this gif instead.
The bar is humming with activity, but the table youâre nestled at in the back provides enough shelter to allow you all to converse without having to yell at each other.
Youâve been nursing a glass of water for a while now, since youâre the designated driver this week. It doesnât bother you, thoughâ youâre just happy to be out with your friends.
Every once in a while you steal a glance over at Frankie, whoâs sitting diagonally across the table, next to Santiago who is directly across from you. Benny is to your left, his large body crowding you into the wall, and his brother Will is at the head of the table.
âHey Fish,â Benny claps a hand on his shoulder. The force of his hand jostles Frankieâs solid body backwards a little, but to his credit he doesnât flinch. âHow are things with that girl you were seeing? Jennessa? Jennifer?â
You take a sip of your water and look down at the table to mask your interest at the sudden change in conversation.
âJessica,â Frankie clears his throat. âThey arenât. We didnât have much in common so she broke it off after a few dates.â
Queue the internal cheering. Jessica was a bit of a wet mop, to be honest. She never had anything to say when Frankie brought her around and she would scoff at everything that was slightly unsavory in her eyes. Deep down, you had to come to terms with the jealous twinge you felt in your gut every time she would squeeze Frankieâs shoulder affectionately, her immaculately manicured nails pressed harshly into his jacket.
âIâm sorry, Fish,â Benny said, slinging his arm around the man, the clumsy movement knocking his hat slightly askew. âHer loss, brother.â
âHere here,â Santi agrees, raising his bottle in the air. âTo the king!â
Benny cheers clinks his bottle against Santiagoâs echoing his sentiment. Will huffs out a laugh and Frankie groans, hiding his face in his hands.
You gape at the two men in question, but they just giggle like a couple of school girls.
âI didnât realize I was in the presence of royalty,â you say, trying to figure out what theyâre talking about. You look over at Frankie as he takes an impatient sip from his drink.
Benny just about spits out a mouthful of beer onto the table.
âShut the fuck up, guys.â Frankie warns his friends. âSeriously.â Santi and Benny give him an innocent look. Will focuses his gaze on the bottle heâs holding, picking at the paper label, damp and curling at the edges from condensation .
Santiago leans towards you, his breath hot in your ear.
âWe call him the pussy eating king.â
You thank the powers above you werenât mid-sip, because the choked sound that emits from your throat was both involuntary and sudden. Heat blossoms in your stomach and your thighs clench together as you make eye contact with Frankie. He looks away nervously, embarrassed even.Â
âSo was this a self coronation or..â You trail off, grinning at the flush on Frankieâs cheeks.
âIt was that really talkative chick he was seeing for a while,â Benny says, turning to you. âBrianna?â
âBrenda,â Frankie sighs.
âSo Brenda crowned you the pussy eating king?â You ask Frankie, who still refuses to meet your eyes.
He grumbles in response, waving off the subject.
âYeah, she went on about it in detail for the whole night one time. I think you were away for a work trip or somethingâ Santiago is absolutely smirking, loving the way Frankie is physically shrinking under the groupâs attention. âCome on Fish, donât be so modest. Youâre a beast in the sack, itâs a good thing!â
You smile, but it doesnât quite reach your eyes. You remember why you werenât there. It was because you couldnât stand seeing Frankie so happy with another woman, so you feigned sick.
âWell, I can see why things with Brenda didnât last,â you respond, knowing Frankie was kind of a private guy. âBut hey, at least she can tell all her friends she got the royal treatment while it lasted.â
Benny, Santiago and even Will all roar with laughter, fists banging raucously on the table. Frankie huffs out an embarrassed laugh, despite himself.
âYeah, yeah,â he takes a swig of his beer, emptying it. âI need another drink.â
âHey Ben, what time is your fight next week again?â Will calls over to his brother. Youâre grateful for the change of subject. Frankieâs had enough torture for one night and you arenât sure how many more details about Frankieâs sexual prowess your nether regions can take.
Benny turns towards Will to talk about his upcoming match and you take a sip from your glass to try to hide how flustered youâre feeling. Did this bar get hot all of a sudden?
The glass lands back down with a dull thump and you look up to find Santiago studying you, his eyebrow raised.
âWhat?â You donât mean to sound aggressive, but his gaze is unnerving, as if heâs trying to suss out something youâre hiding.
âNothing, nothing at all.â He smirks and tips up his beer, taking a long gulp. You roll your eyes at him and look down to pick at your nails.
A few moments later, Frankie returns with a fresh beer and you can feel Santiago turning his face in your direction again to read your body language. You school your reaction, fingers digging painfully into your pint glass. Sometimes Pope is too fucking nosy for his own good.
He must lose interest after a moment though, because he turns his attention back to Benny, whoâs still talking about his upcoming fight.
The topic doesnât come up again, thankfully, and youâve dropped all the boys off at their separate destinations, save for Frankie, who lives the closest to you.
The car ride alone with him isnât as tense as you were expecting, since his tongue has been loosened with the fair amount of alcohol heâs had tonight. You both chat easily about the upcoming week and how much youâre dreading going back to work on Monday.
You canât resist one smart remark though, as you pull up to Frankieâs house.
âYour castle awaits, my liege,â you quip, trying and failing to hide your amused smile as you look over at him.
Frankie throws his head back and laughs freely, opening the car door with a wink.
âGoodnight, my queen,â he bows exaggeratedly before shutting the car door.
The butterflies donât tamp down until youâre securely inside your own apartment, locking the door behind you.
That night was a month ago, which means itâs been a whole fucking month since your brain flew the coop. Every time Frankie does just about anything with his mouth, everything else around you ceases to exist.
Take last Thursday, for example. Frankie dropped by after work to help you change your porch light, since the fixture is too heavy and the light is too high up to easily reach.
He steps up the ladder with ease, unscrewing the fixture and holding it with his left hand. He puts the screwdriver in his mouth so he can hold onto the ladder as he gingerly hands you the fixture. You grab onto it and hand him the replacement bulb so he can swap them out.
He gets the lightbulb in and gestures towards you to hand the fixture back, which he screws back in before stepping down.
âBlegh,â he wipes his mouth on his sleeve, an action that has your last two brain cells screeching to a halt. âScrewdrivers taste awful.âÂ
His statement is cute, self-deprecating, and you try to respond appropriately but all you can do is gape at him like a fish out of water.
âGet your shit together, heâs wiping off the taste of rust, not your pussy,â you try to mentally shake yourself out of your stupor, but it does no good.
He turns back towards his toolbox to drop the screwdriver in and close the lid.
âAll set,â he says, dusting off his jeans. He sounds a little uneasy, probably because youâre acting like a complete weirdo.
âThank you so much, Frankie. I really appreciate it.â You find your manners and pull him in for a hug, secretly reveling in how good he smells.
âAny time,â he tells you as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes softly.
Before he pulls away you make a spur of the moment decision, and reach up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. Heâs so impossibly warm and so inviting, you can feel your heart flutter in your chest. The sparse hairs on his face tickle your chin.Â
Frankie clears his throat and ducks his head down, mumbling a hurried goodbye before he heads back to his truck, toolbox in hand. You donât miss the way his lips are turned up and the crows feet make an appearance in the corner of his eyes, nor do you miss the brilliant flush that spreads over his face and down his neck.
Itâs Saturday now and your torment knows no end. You decide youâre too tired to go out and opt to invite the guys over for a movie night, to which they all agree.Â
You decide youâll just have to look away every time Frankie takes a sip of a drink, or eats a handful of popcorn. Or God forbid, if he licks his lips.
The group chat has been a nightmare, with everyone trying to come up with a movie to watch. Benny wants to watch The Expendables, Will mentioned something about wanting to see Dunkirk for ages now and Santi is playing devilâs advocate, disagreeing with all of their choices but not coming up with one of his own.
Frankie has been quiet in the chat, besides initially agreeing to come over initially.
Itâs 9:00 PM, you have a 30 rack of beers in the fridge and some popcorn set out for everyone. All you have to do now is wait for the guys to arrive. Your phone chimes with a notification from Benny.
Benny and the Jets đĽ: Sorry lady, I got called in for a last minute practice. Raincheck?
Ironhead đŚ¸đź: I gotta duck out too. The lady wants to have a date night. Sorry!
You type out a reply to them, a little disappointed but bidding them a good night all the same.
A knock sounds on the door and you rush over to answer it. The door swings open to reveal Frankie, wearing the softest looking navy blue hoodie youâve ever seen, along with his Standard Oil cap. He looks as unsure as ever, holding a bottle of red wine.
You chirp an over-enthusiastic greeting, internally cringe at it, and step aside to welcome him in.
âI know you like red wine, so I got some for you on the way here. I hope itâs the kind you like.â
You accept the wine and look at the label. Itâs a California Zinfandel. You canât believe he remembered your favorite wine.
âI love it, thank you so much.â You pull him into a hug, nuzzling into the soft material of his sweatshirt. He returns the hug just as enthusiastically, pulling away to kiss your forehead.
âIs Santiago on his way?â You ask, padding into the kitchen to grab a glass from your cabinet. âDo you want a glass? Or I have some beer if youâd prefer.â
âBeer is perfect, thanks,â he says a little breathily as he looks over at you. âSantiago said something came up and that heâs sorry.â
Something feels a little fishy with the three of them ducking out all at the same time, but you donât mention it as you hand him a beer and search through your drawer for a bottle opener. A few minutes later, youâre both set up on the couch and are scrolling through Netflix for a movie.
âI have no idea what to watch. Do you?â
âWant to watch Civil War? I know the guys will bitch weâre continuing the rewatch without them but they can deal.â
You tip your head back and laugh, navigating over to your Disney+ app.
Frankie takes off his hat and sets it aside while you spread a blanket over your laps, braving a chance to scoot closer to him. He takes the hint and wraps his arm behind your shoulders, nestling you closer to his chest. You settle in and try to pay attention to the movie, despite the wild fluttering that is taking place in your stomach.
Frankie shifts uncomfortably and winces a little. You can tell heâs trying to hide it, but little does he know youâve been watching every single movement he makes like a hawk. Or a nervous lap dog.
âDoes your back hurt? I can move,â you start to get up but Frankie grabs onto your wrist and pulls you back in.
âNo, stay. I just need to find a comfortable position.â
You make a soft noise of surprise when he lifts you up and pulls you towards him, settling back so heâs spread out on the couch. Youâre settled on top of him, your legs stretched out over his with your back to the cushion, half draped over his torso.
This position has your heart thumping hard in your chest. His face was just a few inches from yours. All heâd have to do is tilt his face towards yours, and youâd be practically kissing.
Focusing on the movie is harder than ever. Your left hand rests on Frankieâs chest and your right is near his head. Without even thinking, you reach out and start stroking your fingers through his soft curls. He hums contentedly, the pleasant sound rumbling through his chest.
A hand makes its way up your arm leaving goosebumps in its wake, landing on your shoulder.
You brave a glance at Frankie and feel your heart stutter in your chest when you realize heâs been looking at you. His eyes are as dark as ever, twinkling against the flicker of your TV.
He closes the gap and captures your lips in a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft, melding to yours perfectly. The brush of your mouths together is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to lick at him and he complies, letting out a guttural moan at the sensation as your tongues meet languidly.
You shift your leg so it slots between his and both of your hands find his shoulders and squeeze them, eliciting a soft mewl from Frankieâs mouth. His hands are hot on your back and he slides one down to your ass, kneading the soft flesh over your leggings.
Your hips press into his, rutting into him, soft pants falling from your mouthâ mingling with his. You need to be closer, closer, closer. He tightens his grip on your ass in response and rolls his hips so you can feel how hard he is against your belly.
âFuck, baby,â he rasps, breaking the kiss, words tumbling out between his ragged breaths.Â
You can feel yourself throbbing for him, wetness rushing to your core as his hushed baritone makes your head spin with need. Somewhere in the back of your mind youâre convinced this is a dream. That thereâs no way youâre dry humping the man of your dreams on your couch right now.
You duck down to hide your expression, not wanting to ruin the moment with your anxiety and doubt. Youâll take whatever this man gives you, even if itâs just this moment.Â
You busy yourself by peppering small kisses on his neck, trailing them up to his jaw.
âHey,â he slows your movements and holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up gently up to look at him.
âI want you. I want this. Do you?âÂ
You feel the urge to look away, his gaze is intense and laser-focused on you. Eye contact has never been your strong suit, so this was a lot for you to handle. But you fight the urge to flinch and stare back, searching to see if there was anything that will give away any trepidations. His expression remains hard set, serious but not unkind. Itâs just like Frankie to have eyes as clear as day, giving away all of his secrets. Theyâre just like himâ strong, unrelenting in their hardness and softness.
âYes,â you reply. Your voice cracks a little, thick with emotion. âIâve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.âÂ
You feel embarrassment wash over you with the admission, but Frankie doesnât let it last long before you crushes his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He breaks it off after a moment, lips swollen and pink.
âBaby, you have no idea how long Iâve been waiting to hear you say that.â
He strokes a hand down your jaw, his thumb caressing your skin as a goofy smile blooms over your face.
âI want to make you feel good, baby,â he whispers, his thumb catching on the swell of your bottom lip. âWill you let me make you feel good?â
You blink and swallow heavily, a fresh wave of arousal flooding to your center as the deep rasp of his voice utters those words, smooth as caramelâ dousing over you like kerosene on a fire.
You nod, not trusting your voice at this very moment.
âI need you to say it out loud, honey,â he says, his lips brushing against yours ever so lightly.
âYes, Francisco,â you breathe out. âMake me feel good.â
He bites your bottom lip and tugs, then growls playfully before he grabs your shoulders and flips you over. You let out a delighted shriek, giggling as he lifts up the hem of your shirt and kisses every inch of skin thatâs revealed.
âWait,â you call out. He stops his movements immediately. âYou first.â
Frankie grins. You want to press your fingers into the dimple that appears and feel the scratch of his beard under your nails. He leans back and lifts his sweatshirt over his head, the grey t-shirt heâs wearing sticks to the inside of it and he rolls both garments down his arms.Â
His chest is bare to you now, smooth except for a smattering of hairs in the middle of his chest, and a patch leading down into his jeans. You want to reach out and run your hands down the planes of his torso and follow the path of hair, but your arms arenât long enough to reach.Â
You remove your shirt, leaving you in your leggings and bra. Itâs a soft lace number, a delicate pink with no underwire. You watch as his hungry gaze roams over your chest. To your surprise, he doesnât motion for you to take it off. Instead, he leans over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
 He moves downwards, tongue darting out to taste the salt of your neck. He continues his path and mouths between your breasts, one of his hands reaches out to squeeze the plump flesh in his large hand. You nipple instantly pebbles under his ministrations and he pulls the fabric aside to tease it with the pad of his finger. You moan softly at the sensation and yelp in surprise when he sucks it into his mouth and bites it, soothing the sharp sting with a flick of his tongue.
 âMmm, love how responsive you are already,â he hums, moving down. Your back arches as his mouth makes a hot trail down the rest of your torso. You look down and notice heâs left wet patches where his mouth has been, coating you in saliva and leaving goosebumps in his wake.
 He reaches the waistband of your leggings and pushes them down, letting out a strangled groan when he gets an eyeful of your panties, the same shade of pink that matches the bra youâre wearing.Â
âSo fucking sexy,â he breathes.
He peels your panties down your legs and pulls them off along with your leggings, leaving you completely bare from the bottom down. You start to cross your legs to hide yourself, feeling self-conscious at how exposed you are, but Frankie grabs your thigh to halt the movement.
âYou better not hide this pretty pussy from me,â he says, licking his lips.
You half expect him to dive in, but he takes a moment to look at you. Heâs resting a hand on your hip. His pointer finger makes a path down, tracing an invisible line up and down your slit. You hiss at the ghost of his touch and thrust your hips towards his hand, seeking out more friction.
Frankie lets out an amused chuckle at your reaction and leans forward to plant a wet kiss to your inner thigh. You let out a shaky breath in anticipationâ your heart feels like itâs beating out of your chest. He kisses up your thigh until he reaches the apex between your legs, then licks a stripe through your folds with the flat of his tongue, pulling a surprised gasp from your parted lips.
He sucks your clit into his mouth and you canât help itâ you buck up into his mouth and grab onto his hair and tug at the strands. He grabs onto the flesh of your hip and whimpers into your pussy. Despite being almost dizzy with need, you feel a rush of power knowing you have this effect on him.
âYou taste so fucking good. So wet for me,â he punctuates his words with bold licks up and down. âNever want to stop.â
He changes patterns, making tight circles on your clit with his tongue. The sudden switch has you mewling and your legs clamp around his head involuntarily. Frankie grabs your thighs and wrenches them apart, hooking them over his shoulders as he latches onto your pussy. His hands are on your ass, holding you up as your back arches off the couch.
All you can do is scramble at the cushions below you for purchase as Frankie buries his face into your cunt, lapping at you with abandon. His tongue licks into you with an intensity youâve never experienced before; it has you seeing stars.
You have no idea how he knows exactly how to manipulate your body to pull the pleasure from you so naturally. Every lick feels like itâs searching for treasure, every suck hits somewhere deep inside, reverberating through the muscles of your thighs and up in your abdomen.
He gently places you back down to the cushions and rubs at your entrance with his pointer finger, looking up at you for permission.
âYes, pleaseââ you whimper brokenly. He complies immediately and plunges it into you, following with a second finger, and curls them up. His pace is slow at first and he flicks his tongue out to play with your clit at the same time. Heâs soon spurred on by your moans and sets a brutal pace. You once again feel the urge to clamp around him to increase the pressure, but Frankie uses his broad shoulders to hold your thighs apart.
 Seeing his shoulders, bare and perspiring from his intensive movements, so wide and flushed, coupled with the furrow of his brow, his eyes pinched closed, makes something primal within you awaken. You barely have time to feel your orgasm coming before itâs hitting youâ thighs shaking, back arching, hands in his hair. You donât even realize it, but you;âre shrieking his name, chanting it like a prayer. Heâs groaning in reply, milking you through it with his fingers and tongue, lapping up your release, syrupy sweet and indulgent.
 He doesnât stop until youâre flinching from overstimulation. He kisses up your body lazily, taking his time before capturing your lips. You kiss him back, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on his tongue. He grinds into you, his jean-clad erection rubs against your aching cunt and rekindles the fire, molten heat shooting through your entire body.
 âWanna fuck you so bad, baby,â he says, panting the words into your mouth.
 You moan and break the kiss.
 âWant to take this to my room?â
 He doesnât reply, but instead swings his body off the couch and picks you up bridal-style. He stumbles a little with the first steps and you both laugh, kissing each other with each step he takes towards your bedroom.
He tosses you onto the bed softly and you let loose another delighted giggle when Frankie flops over you dramatically, caging you in his arms. Your tongues tangle together in an impossibly sensual kiss. Heâs momentarily distracted, caught up in the feel of your body underneath his with the soft touches of your tongue, and you take the opportunity to roll him over and straddle his hips.
Frankie is looking up at you as if heâs in awe, like he canât believe youâre here right now, naked from the waist down and grinding down on his hard cock, tenting his jeans.
You move down his body and zip his fly down, pushing down the denim along with his boxer briefs. His cock springs free, hard and hot and leaking at the tip. You canât help but lick the bead of precum, and a broken whine rips from Frankieâs throat. His hands are clenched into the sheets, knuckles white with how hard heâs gripping the mattress beneath him.
Youâre bobbing your mouth up and down his length, tongue licking around his shaft and cheeks hollowing out. His moans are loud, constant. Heâs babbling praise, telling you how fucking amazing your mouth feels, how badly he wants to fuck you. Itâs a heady feeling, bringing a strong and quiet man to his knees like this. You love that heâs letting you know how much heâs breaking for you.
Your tongue finds its way down to his balls and you suck them into your mouth, moaning at the musky taste. His moans are high pitched now and his hand is squeezing your shoulder.
âBaby, you gotta stop,â he grabs onto your hair to pause your movements. âI need to feel you.â
You give him one last broad lick up his shaft and shift back up, and look down at Frankie to catalogue the number youâve done on him. Heâs absolutely wreckedâ brown eyes blown wide, chest rising and falling rapidly with his uneven breaths.
 You remove your bra, stretching it over your head and throwing it to the side. Frankie follows the movement and lets out a needy, staccato moan at the sight of you, completely bare before him.
 You reach down and kiss him soundly on the mouth, lining his cock up with your entrance.
 âIâve got you, baby boy,â you coo, sinking down on his length.
 âFuck,â he grits out between his teeth.
 You give yourself a moment to get used to his size and rock into him. His hands fly up to your chest, squeezing lightly and rolling your nipples in between his fingers.
 âSo fucking big,â you pant out. âSo good for me.â
 It seems Frankie loves praise as much as you do, evidenced by the twitch of his cock inside you.
 Your pace is agonizingly slow. Youâre trying to tease out the moment, stretch it out so it lasts forever. It doesnât last longâ you canât stand it anymore. You bounce up and down on him, snapping your hips when they meet his.
 âSo fucking perfect,â he pants out. âWanna fuck you from behind.â
 You breathe out a moan and stop your movements. Frankie mistakes your pause for hesitation and reaches up to brush the hair out of your face.
 âWe donât have to,â he says, voice gentle, brow furrowed in concern.Â
 âNo, fuck. No, Frankie. I want to.â
 You gingerly get up and whimper at the loss when heâs no longer inside you. Frankie sits up, shoulders rocking forward and cock bobbing with his movement as he settles onto his knees. You watch him and bite your lip, getting on all fours and lifting your ass up in the air to present yourself to him.
 Frankie canât help the groan that falls from his lips and sinks forward to lay an open-mouthed kiss on your pussy from behind before he lines himself up. He enters you without hesitation, hips slapping against your ass rhythmically, setting a decisively fast pace.Â
 All you can hear is the filthy sounds of your wet pussy as he pounds into you, along with your strangled moans, and his heavy breathing, laced with whispers of praise you canât discern. The waves of pleasure are too much, too strong. You can feel the familiar build up of an orgasm. Your head is in the clouds as it climbs and climbsâ then crashes.
 His fingers on your clit is what does you in. Your whole body shakes and all you can do is whimper and moan around his cock while he fucks into you. The strong, practiced rock of his hips become sloppy as he chases his release, muttering words of adoration into the air as he pulls out and cums, spilling onto your back. He pulls every last drop out of his cock before collapsing over you, forehead resting on your spine as he catches his breath.
 âFuck, baby,â he says, once heâs caught his breath. âShould have done this ages ago.â
 You both laugh and Frankie gets up to grab a wet face towel from the bathroom
A little while later, youâre both in bed, blissed out and wrapped up around each other. The movie, drinks and snacks are all forgotten. All that matters is here and nowâ your breaths mingling together as you kiss each other lazily, tongues probing slowly.Â
In the other room, both of your phones ping on the coffee table with unheard notifications.
The first text is from Santiago.The other boys follow suit, not a minute apart.
Pope đ¤Śđťââď¸: đ
Benny and the Jets đĽ: đ
Ironhead đŚ¸đź: đ
Neither of you see the texts until the next morning.
 The following weekend, itâs Santiagoâs turn to be the designated driver. Heâs parked outside of Frankieâs house, waiting to pick both of your asses up. He starts to tap his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel after the first 15 minutes.Â
âWhat the fuck are they doing in there?â He asks Will and Benny. They all know the answer, but donât say anything.
Meanwhile, Frankie has you crowded against the front door, your sundress is hiked up and his face is buried in your pussy. Neither of you can hear the sound of Santiâs impatient honking over your moans.
And if you end up going to the bar sans panties because you canât find them before Santiago is pounding his fist on the door, well thatâs just a secret you and Frankie will have to keep.
Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo @recklessworry @wyn-dixie @manalg14 @codenamewife @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @manalg14 @comphersjost @a-skov @sheresh0y @greeneyedblondie44 @blackmarketmummy @brandyllyn @gracie7209 @bootyliciousbilbo @dobbyjen
#frankie morales#frankie morales smut#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#francisco morales#francisco catfish morales#triple frontier#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#francisco morales pilot of my heart#all hail francisco morales pussy eating king
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atlas heart || part 28
a/n : aha,,, ahaha,,,,, listen, i know this is a jimin au okay I KNOW -- but this chapter belongs to jung hoseok and thats that im sorry
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When Y/n finds Jimin down by the lake, she feels that every fiber of her being wants her to turn back, wants her to run and hide under her blankets -- as if sheâs the one that needs protecting from him. He doesnât see her until sheâs a few feet away, approaching him from the shoreline. The smile he gives her when he turns is kind but reserved, like heâs preoccupied. She lets out an awkward laugh.
âWhy did you want to meet down here in the middle of the night? Way to be weird, Jimin.â He rolls his eyes playfully, nudging her with his elbow before gesturing back toward the ground not far away, covered in grass instead of the sand here by the water. Y/n follows him there, taking a seat next to him with question marks in her eyes when he doesnât answer her. He snickers at her confusion.
âYouâre really stuck on this, huh? Maybe I just wanted to look at the stars with you.â Her features scrunch up cutely as she reacts to his admittedly cheesy one-liner, and he feels the tips of his ears go red. âOkay, I swear that sounded better in my head.â She grins before turning away, looking up at the sky in contemplation. Jimin thinks that maybe, in other circumstances, they really would have been able to sit here together in peaceful silence and watched the stars all night long. He hates that he has to ruin it.
âI actually⌠I have to talk to you.â She doesnât pull her gaze from the sky, but he does notice that her expression has clouded over with something he canât place. It looks a lot like resignation. Swallowing once and trying to shake out his nervous limbs as subtly as possible, he takes a single deep breath before turning his upper body to face her. She still wonât look at him.
âI know youâre probably going to hate my guts after this, and I completely deserve that because Iâm selfish and stupid, and Iâm too nosy for my own good, and I never should have pushed so much, but I--â
âI know.â
âYeah, I know you know that Iâm an idiot, and that Iâm annoying, and that I ask too many questi--â
âJimin, I know.â He stops then, and the look of pure confusion he gives her breaks her heart. She has no idea that the pained expression sheâs giving him is breaking his. She canât even keep her eyes on him when she continues. âI know that you know.â
Jimin jaw drops, and he gets the idea that he looks a bit like a dying fish, closing and opening his mouth as he tries to figure out how to continue. He hadnât planned for this turn of events when heâd practiced the conversation in his head.
âYou -- but how? Was I too obvious?â He sits up straight, terrified that his suspicious behavior had already gotten her into more danger. âDid I do something that risked your secret? What was it? Tell me so I can make sure never to do it again--â Y/nâs eyes shut as she sighs, and she quiets him with a shake of her head.
âDumbledore told me, the day after youâd gone to see him. He wanted to warn me.â Jimin stares at the side of her head, processing that sheâd known almost two weeks that heâd figured everything out, but she hadnât confronted him about it. âI havenât told the boys yet, but Iâve been freaking out about it. I wanted to talk to you right away, but⌠I decided to wait until you were ready to talk about itâŚâ Her eyes flick to him, but at the sight of his gaze fixed completely on her, his attention fully hers, she looks away. âI was scared that you hated me. Even when you kept reaching out and talking to me, I felt like⌠maybe you hadnât realized exactly what I am or what that means. I was waiting for you to leave me. Or expose me. I donât know. I feel like Iâm losing my mind.â
âI would never do that to you.â It falls out his mouth, feeling oddly like a confession when he says it without thinking and is immediately embarrassed. He clears his throat when she looks up at him with wide eyes, scratching awkwardly at his collarbone. âI needed time to process⌠not that youâre a werewolf, but that I had been such a fucking idiot the entire time. I should have listened to your friends and just let you be. I was nosy and selfish and objectively really annoying, and I hadnât even realized that they were just trying to keep you safe by pushing me away. Iâm really sorry, Y/n⌠for endangering you like that.â
He wonât look at her -- he canât. But when a cold hand closes around his own, squeezing gently, he at least is able to look in her direction. She squeezes again, and, with as much courage as heâs ever had to gather at once, he lifts his eyes to meet her. She looks to be on the edge of tears, but sheâs smiling at him, and it confuses him to no end.
âYouâre not⌠mad? Because I completely understand if you are--â
âIâm not mad, Jimin. Iâm kind of relieved that you know now, even if I am probably going to always be scared that one day youâll wake up and realize that Iâm a monster and run for your life.â He breathes out a laugh, knowing that sheâs not joking. He just canât imagine a version of himself, now or ever, that would look at her and see anything but the girl heâd been desperate to befriend all this time.
âIâm not going anywhere, Y/n. I want to help you, if thatâs okay. I want to do anything I can to help keep you safe.â Itâs then that she pulls away from him, her expression turning apprehensive. Jimin takes one look at her and assumes it must be about her friends. âI know that Hoseok and Jungkook donât like me, but I can talk to them if you want me to! I can explain myself and make sure they know that Iâm just trying to help--â She shakes her head suddenly, cutting him off with a wave of her hands. She can already tell how her conversation with them later tonight will go, dreading having to ask them to meet so she can break the news.
âNo, itâs not them⌠Iâll handle the boys -- itâs probably better that you arenât there when they lose their minds, so Iâll talk to them. Itâs just⌠things are more complicated than you think. Itâs not really as simple as helping me⌠there are things you still donât know, and itâs not my place to tell youâŚâ Jimin thinks back to the way Dumbledore had called the situation âinfinitely more complicatedâ than he knew, and the way Y/nâs talking right now has him going out on a limb.
âIs this⌠about Remus Lupin?â Y/n meets his eyes with alarm, her breath catching audibly in her throat, and Jimin knows heâs right. âHeâs⌠like you, right? His friends are involved, too.â She gapes at him, unsure how to respond.
âHowâŚâ He looks away, rubbing at his neck uncomfortably.
âWell, the night I figured things out -- it was a few days before the full moon, so your symptoms were a little more apparent at the time. I saw him in the Great Hall the next day, and he was looking just like you⌠and his friends, they act a lot like Jungkook and Hoseok sometimes⌠it wasnât hard to put it together.â Y/n sits there in silence, not certain if Jimin is just really observant and was hyper-aware of everything because heâd just realized such a monumental secret, or if she needs to talk to the Marauders and her own friends about being less conspicuous. Probably both. She barely hears Jimin when he starts talking again.
âIs⌠that whatâs keeping you from letting me help? I swear I wonât say anything -- Iâll even pretend I donât know about him. Iâll do anything.â She watches him as he starts to devolve into whatâs probably the third rant in the last half hour alone, and she knows heâs desperate to prove himself to her. He doesnât need to -- heâd made his innocence and kindness clear to her long before heâd had any idea of her affliction. Itâs everything about him, really, thatâs causing her so much pain. Sheâs scared for him.
âJimin⌠are you sure this is what you want? Weâre in the middle of a war⌠and youâre a muggleborn. If anyone were to find me out, and they link us⌠I donât know what would happen to you. Everythingâs so delicate and dangerous, I donât know if I can put you in that kind of danger.â This time itâs Jimin that reaches out for her, slipping his fingers through her own and linking their hands once he has her in his hold. He looks entirely level-headed when he looks her in the eye and responds.
âIâm with you, Y/n. Iâm with you.â
--
Y/n stares up at the entrance to Slytherin common room, a deep frown set into her features. Sheâd made what sheâd believed to be the right choice by not having Jungkook and Hoseok in the same room when she told them about Jimin -- they have a habit of enabling each otherâs worst characteristics, and the last thing she wants to deal with is two enraged boys in the middle of the night. But now that sheâs here, having just left a furious Jungkook in the room of requirement, sheâs not looking forward to having this conversation again.
Jungkook had been surprisingly calm when sheâd broken to him that Jimin had discovered her secret, but if thereâs only one thing in the world that Y/n can say with complete confidence, itâs that she knows Jeon Jungkook. The look of complete ease that heâd given her had terrified her far beyond any explosion of anger. She almost prefers that he had reacted. It had taken her the better half of an hour to calm him down, only feeling comfortable texting Hoseok that she was on her way to him when sheâd seen an emotion cross Jungkookâs eyes other than blank detachment. Even then, it was only annoyance at the fact that she refused to let him âtalkâ to Jimin on his own.
Now, itâs almost 3am, and Y/nâs only brushing away her tragic attempt at reasoning with Jungkook when the door to the Slytherin common room slides open, revealing a sleepy-eyed, bedhead-ridden Hoseok. Heâs only half-dressed, clearly unable to be bothered to care about his appearance this late at night. He scratches at his bare collarbone with one finger while he squints at her, his blatant concern hidden slightly by how disgruntled he looks.
âDo you have any idea what time it is? Why would you do this to me?â Y/n snorts, knowing from experience how objectively rude Hoseok can be in the first few minutes of being awake. She hopes he stays bogged down by his sleep-deprived mind long enough that he doesnât completely lose it when she talks to him. She glances past him into the common room before responding.
âIs there somewhere we can talk in private? I have something to tell you.â Immediately, the sleep is gone from Hoseokâs eyes, and Y/n mourns the hope that he wouldnât be clear-minded during their conversation. He nods once, pointing over his shoulder.
âMy roomâs fine.â
âIsnât Yoongi there?â Hoseok shakes his head, a slight smile gracing his features while he explains.
âHe got a call from Kim Seokjin not that long ago -- something about a late-night snack run and how eating alone is âa lonely habitâ.â He shrugs, and Y/n guesses that Yoongi must get dragged out against his will by Kim Seokjin quite often if Hoseok is unbothered by it. Hoseok points again in the direction of his bedroom, and Y/n only follows with a nod.
By the time they return to his room, Hoseokâs awake enough to be self-conscious, so heâs searching for a shirt immediately, gesturing for Y/n to close the door behind her. Then he flops down onto his bed, crossing his legs and patting the spot at the end of his mattress for her. When she decides to remain standing, running her fingers along the edge of his bedpost awkwardly, Hoseok squints, suspicious.
âWhat happened?â Y/n closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, looking Hoseok head-on and ripping the metaphorical band-aid off.
âJimin knows about me. He just told me. Before you say anything, we talked about it, and--â
âThat little shit--â Hoseokâs standing from his bed, fists balled up in rage as he heaves out an enraged breath. âWhen I get my hands on that nosy, obnoxious fucking twerp--â
âHoseok, wait! Wait.â Y/n holds her hands out in front of her, planting them on his chest while she stares up at him with wide eyes. âItâs okay! Itâs fine, we talked! Heâs not going to say anything to anyone, even about the stuff with Remus--â Sheâll admit that saying that last part probably wasnât her best idea, considering how Hoseok reacts, blind with fury.
âWhat do you mean? What does that mean?!â Heâs growing louder now, and Y/n knows she has to calm him down before he wakes the entirety of Slytherin house. Taking his face in her hands, she tries to force him to focus solely on her, but it only results in Hoseok gripping at her wrists, desperation clear in the way his hold is shaking. Heâs looking at her with wild eyes, demanding an explanation for something so wholly unacceptable, but Y/n canât give that to him while heâs like this.
âHoseok, I need you to breathe, okay? Iâm okay. I will be okay. But I need you to lower your voice and breathe. Donât think about anything else.â This display -- a total loss of control -- is what sheâd expected from Jungkook, but the boy whoâd been beside her their entire lives must have known better than to show his ruthless side and risk upsetting her. In this moment, Hoseok, whoâs always so keen on hiding himself behind a mask, is seeing red the way he never has before, and thatâs what scares Y/n most.
âEyes on me, Hobi, hm? Look at me -- Iâm right here, and Iâm okay. Look at me. See? Iâm perfectly fine. Nothingâs gonna happen to me, I promise.â Sheâd somehow managed to bring him down from his erratic high, keeping his face close until she could see in his eyes that heâs looking only at her. His breath is ragged, and if she thinks sheâs caught the slightest tremble of his bottom lip when he opens his mouth, heâs hiding it well. But what he whispers to her breaks her heart clean in half.
âYou canât promise me that. The more people that know about you, the harder it is for me to trick myself into believing you.â Taking a breath to stop herself from tearing up, she releases him slowly, stepping back when he only moves to sit back down on the edge of his bed.
âHobi⌠you canât do anything to Jimin, okay? You canât confront him or do anything rash. I mean it.â It takes a few moments, but finally Hoseok is lifting his eyes to meet hers. He nods, and Y/n knows thatâs all sheâll be able to get out of him. She wishes it was enough, that weak agreement, but if thereâs one other thing in the world she can say with complete confidence, itâs that she doesnât know Hoseok quite as well as she knows Jungkook.
--
Jiminâs on his way to class the next morning, lost in his thoughts about Y/n -- he canât seem to focus on anything else these days -- when heâs unceremoniously dragged by the back of his robes into an empty classroom and shoved against the nearest wall. Hissing at the pain, he barely has time to slump over and catch his breath before heâs being pinned back against the cold stone by a pair of very determined hands.
He stills completely when he finally lifts his gaze and meets the eyes of Jung Hoseok. The Slytherin is visibly furious, his glare almost manic as he pushes Jiminâs shoulders back into the wall. He only lets up when an involuntary cry of pain escapes Jimin, but he never lets the boy go.
âNow, youâre going to listen to what I have to say, and youâre going to listen closely. Yeah?â Jimin isnât sure itâs a question that needs answering, considering that heâs literally trapped, but the increased pressure of Hoseokâs knuckles on his chest has him nodding frantically. Hoseok doesnât release him when he leans down into his face.
âFor some ungodly reason, Y/n has decided that you can be trusted, and Iâm sure you loved that she said sheâd talk to us so you wouldnât have to do it yourself, huh? But I think that you deserve to have the whole picture, Park -- look at me when Iâm talking to you.â Jimin had shut his eyes simply from the proximity of Hoseokâs hateful glare, unable to handle it, but when the older boy shakes him roughly, he opens his eyes so wide that heâs terrified to even blink.
âThis game youâre playing? Using your obvious little crush on Y/n as an excuse to pry into her business and put her in danger just because you like sticking your nose where it doesnât belong? It needs to stop. Because you donât know all the rules, Jimin. And you donât get any do-overs.â Jimin can feel the grip on his shirt starting to tremble, and at first he thinks maybe Hoseokâs so enraged that heâs actually shaking, but the glint in his eye tells Jimin differently. It tells him that Hoseok is scared -- heâs terrified. The uncertainty of Jiminâs existence in Y/nâs life -- not knowing if this is going to end badly for them -- itâs scaring him, and Jimin gets the feeling that Hoseokâs someone who deals with fear by being angry. Taking a very big risk, he whispers out to the 7th year.
âI swear, I just want to hel--agh!â Squeezing his eyes shut when Hoseok lifts him away from the wall and promptly slams him back into it, he doesnât finish his plea. He can feel Hoseokâs breath fanning angrily over his face, and he swears a low growl rumbles from deep within the Slytherinâs chest when he responds.
âShut up! You donât know what that even means. You donât know how to help. All youâve done is screw things up for us, so let me welcome you into our little group with a warning.â A hand clamps the sides of Jiminâs jaw, lifting his face and squeezing hard until Jimin opens his eyes to look at Hoseok.
âYou get one chance, so if you even come close to screwing that up, Y/n is the last thing youâll have to worry about. Clear?â Jimin nods again, the hand on his face making that incredibly difficult. Finally, Hoseok releases him and steps back, watching with unmasked annoyance as Jimin fixes his clothes and rubs at all the spots heâs sure will be bruised by morning. They stare at each other, Hoseok eventually rolling his eyes with a sigh.
âY/n told me you want to help. She asked me to mentor you in potion-making. I only agreed to it because sheâs very stubborn when she wants to be, and someone needs to take over her doses. I wonât go easy on you, so you better be ready for a summer of hell. I need to know sheâll be safe with you once Iâm gone, and frankly, I donât even trust you to boil a pot of fucking water, much less a dangerous, highly sensitive potion.â Jimin swallows hard but doesnât comment on the blatant insult, only processing that Jung Hoseok has agreed to train him.
Hoseokâs eyes flicker to the door, and Jimin takes that as his cue that the conversation -- if thatâs what this was -- is finished, so he wanders out of the room in a slight daze, Hoseok following closely. As if the universe is telling him that this moment can, in fact, get much worse, Jimin meets the eyes of one Jeon Jungkook as the Gryffindor happens to be passing on the way to class. Where Hoseokâs glare was unbridled fire and rage, Jungkookâs gaze is turning to pure ice, and Jimin canât decide which is worse. Jungkook doesnât even acknowledge him as he passes, breaking eye contact and going on his way as if Jimin doesnât even exist. Hoseok chuckles darkly behind him.
âI almost feel bad for you, Jimin. If you think you have it bad with me, youâre in for a real treat with Jungkook.â
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