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icanseethefuture333 · 2 years ago

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PAC: What makes you so sweet + who's sweet on you? 🍓🍰♥️

This spread was inspired by Strawberry shortcake :D! A childhood favorite of mine. You are allowed to choose one or more pile for each question! Use your intuition to decide 🥰 Please leave a tip if you can $$$

Pile 1:

Your songs -

I Don't Wanna by Aaliyah

Konclusions by YG & Kehlani

Crushcrushcrush by Coco & Clair Clair

Your dessert -

Pumpkin spice latte 🎃

What makes you so sweet?:

The Empress, Three of Pentacles (reversed), & Six of Pentacles

You are so loving and caring pile 1! 🥰 people could think that you have a "big heart" and wish they could give back all that you do for them. You could have venusian qualities or Libra/Taurus placements. You are a very selfless person and for that in exchange you just really desire friendship and loyalty! Your love language could be acts of service or gifts. You could also be very physically attractive 🤭 but you may not realize this??? You could be more self conscious about how you look and possibly put others on a pedestal for their appearance. You might question if you're actually pretty at times because people might not compliment you much but it's just really because you make them shy 🥺! In private, others could consider you their muse. People could like to draw you or write songs about you. It's giving girl next door energy. The way that you dress could be modest too. You could like to wear long sleeve shirts, sweaters, cardigans, flowy dresses, etc. Fall/autumn could be your favorite time of the year because it fits your taste in style! People could think that you give off a very warm and cozy aura. So comforting 💞

Who's sweet on you?:

Page of Swords, Ten of Swords, & Two of Swords

Lmao poor pile 1 😭 I feel bad so your secret admirer is someone who's ghosted you recently or who you just lost contact with. This person has attachment issues (avoidant I'm feeling?) Whenever they get close to love or start developing feelings for someone, they run away. They could be younger than you or they're just inexperienced when it comes to relationships. This person feels regret for ghosting you and wishes they could just reach out. They wish to tell you how they feel romantically but everytime they try to type out a text or get close to calling you, they chicken out. This person will eventually have to make a decision on if they should contact you or not but they're kind of stubborn 💀 good luck!

Pile 2:

Your songs -

Daisy 2.0 by Ashnikko & Miku Hatsune

Black eye by Vernon

Little Bit by Drake & Lykke Li

Your dessert -

Dark chocolate 🍫

What makes you so sweet?

The Devil (reversed), Ace of Cups, & The moon

Pile 2, you could be alternative??? Or just have a very intimidating/non-conventional beauty. Your style or overall appearance could be unique and that makes people weary to come near you. You possibly have a resting bitch face or you have "hunter eyes" (feline, snake, etc). Your features could go against European beauty standards as well. Contrary to what people think, you are actually so compassionate and sensitive. You could be secretly a hopeless romantic and be into romance novels, films, etc. I'm getting that you like to read or are into reading mangas. You could also like to watch anime or do cosplaying. Your geekiness is adorable 🤓! People like to hear about your interests and want to get to know you more if you feel comfortable. I see that you could have wounds from the past or currently are dealing with depression :( I'm sorry to hear that ❤️‍🩹! Just know that you aren't alone and you have people who care about you (including me!) Your guides want to tell you that you don't have to be so secretive dear. I'm getting that you possibly might have been bullied growing up? And they want you to understand that not everyone is going hurt you. People could think that you are beautiful in the nighttime or your beauty reminds them of the moon. Your skin could be luminescent and glowy when the light hits or your irises are big or have a unique color. You could possibly have Capricorn or Cancer placements. When you allow people to get close to you and gain trust, they appreciate it so much! Your talents, hobbies, and skills is what makes you so special 🥰 This could be only for a few people but some people here are musicians or should learn to play an instrument.

Who's sweet on you?

King of Cups, The Lovers, & Queen of Swords

This is good news for your love life :D! This person wants to come in with a offer and ask you either to be their partner or go out on a date. They are willing to court you and show how much you mean to them. You and this person could be very different than most couples. I'm getting that you guys could be a interracial couple, same sex couple, or just express yourselves differently when it comes to styles, aesthetics, and love languages. Don't be afraid to let this person in pile 2! They seem to really care for you and I can see once you fall in love with them, you're never gonna want to let them go ❤ What's cute about your dynamic is that this person is affectionate and outgoing while you're the more protective and reserved one LOL. I guess opposites do attract.

Pile 3:

Your songs -

While We're Young by Jhené Aiko

Child's Play by SZA & Chance The Rapper

Come by Doja Cat

Your dessert -

Lemon meringue pie 🥧

What makes you so sweet?

The Fool, Three of Wands, & Four of Wands

I feel like my pile 3 people are good singers 😳 if not, their voices are very soft and melodic 🤭 You love to listen to music a lot, for some of you I'm seeing that you like to listen to indie music or r&b. You're a very mellow person and radiate this down to earth energy. There is a lot of yellow on these cards as well so you could be connected to your solar plexus or that could be your favorite color/it suits your skintone. I'm seeing sunflowers 🌻 some of you might worship Oshun or should start doing research on her. You could be spiritual or religious. You have a carefree attitude because you know that the universe got you - period! You could be very knowledgeable on manifestation as well. People wonder what's your secret to life because you seem so lucky. I heard people even want to "rub you for good luck" 👀😂 you could like to dress in a bohemian or hippie style. You could wear like vegan leather backpacks, sandals, beads, feathers, rompers, and also dye your hair unnatural colors like blue, pink, etc. People could like that you're well traveled as well or you're knowledgeable about others cultures. You could speak more than one language. They like to hear about your travels or want to hear about your stories. I'm getting Leo, Sagittarius, or Virgo placements. You make friends where ever you go and it's very easy to talk to you 🌞! You radiate such a positive and divine energy. I just love that!

Who's sweet on you?:

The Emperor, Page of Wands, & King of Pentacles

This person could be older than you. They can be athletic but also act childish. They might have Aries traits or they have have it in their birth chart. They are creative, hard working, and . They take on traditional masculine qualities and would want to be a provider for their family. You could depend on this person and build able to form a secure and stable relationship. This could also signify that you and this person could get married in the future! Expect good news when it comes to your romantic endeavors.

Pile 4:

Your songs -

Favorite by HUNJIYA

Little Little by Red Velvet

Hymn For The Weekend by Coldplay Ft. Beyoncé

Your dessert -

Angel food cake 🎂

What makes you so sweet?

The Star, Strength, & Knight of Cups

Pile 4, you're giving me very much earth angel or starseed vibes 🌈🕊 something about you is very ethereal and angelic to people. They admire your elegance and healing energy. You could look good in the color white or pastel colors. You could have a nice physique as well 😋! Your hair could be very long with waves or curls. Some people fantasize about you naked because of how naturally beautiful you are 😅 It exudes something in them and your sex appeal is very arousing. I'm getting that you could also be nurturing and motherly, very wise. You could have Aquarius, Leo, or Pisces placements. People like your awareness on things and your acceptance of how people are instead of trying to change them. You could be very observant as well. You notice the little things in life and pay attention to the fine details that other don't. You have a keen eye for art or fashion. You could care for the environment and have a connection to animals or babies 🦋 You just embody a lot of divine feminine qualities and that makes people feel welcome and at ease around you.

Who's sweet on you?

Ace of Wands, Queen of Pentacles, & Nine of Pentacles

For you pile 4, I see that you're actually sweet on yourself (period self love)! I feel like as for right now in your love life, you're not looking for a commitment or should be focusing on committing to yourself and your goals. You could be coming out of a relationship or have been single for quite some time - no worries! I'm seeing finacial abundance coming to your life and your personal endeavors. I see that you're mostly gonna keep your options open for now and see different people. I'm seeing a lot of good sex as well ❤️‍🔥 There's gonna be fun dates and partying happening in your life. (Clarified by Justice) this could be for a few but some of you might hear or will start dating a Libra. I'm not seeing anything too serious but I'm getting that they could help you further your career. They could be a sugar daddy/mommy, you know them from work (boss, supervisor, or coworker), or they could work as a counselor, legal advisor, lawyer, etc.

Pile 5:

Your songs -

20/20 by Lil Tjay

On My Own by Darci

Into It by Chase Atlantic

Your dessert -

Red wine truffle 🍷

What makes you so sweet?

Nine of Cups, The World, & Temperance

Your self assurance, patience, and drive for success is what makes you so sweet pile 5! I'm getting badass energy from you and you have a very nonchalant, idgaf, rebellious attitude. I feel that growing up those in authority underestimated you and you managed to prove or will prove them all wrong with your achievements. You could have trophies, good grades, or receive a lot of praise for your work at school or your job. You could possibly be an athlete or participated in some sort of competition (dancing, mathlete, etc). You're beauty and brains, pile 5, the total package! You could have Scorpio, Gemini, or Aries placements. People wonder how you did it or overcome such hardships. You're someone people can look up to. You motivate them and make them want to do better. You could be the older sibling in your family or could have cousins younger than you? I'm having a vision of little kids looking at you and they're just in awe, how cute 🥹! Your independence and self confidence is so admirable.

Who's sweet on you?

Four of Swords, Knight of Wands, & Eight of Wands

Pile 5, when it comes to romance it could make you nervous or give you anxiety. You may not have time for it or whenever you go out on dates you overthink about it. There's no need to be nervous! Just be yourself sweetheart 💕 I feel that you know this person as well or already currently seeing someone. They could be on your team or they are in some sort of team (at work, in sports, etc). They like to move things pretty fast. You both could hate the talking stage and just wish to skip to the part where the both of you are best friends in love! I'm getting like coming of age love story and it's adorable ☺️ This person could like your hair or compliments you a lot on your hair. They could like your tattoos or piercings. There is going to be a lot of passion early on in the relationship and they will be very infatuated by you. Just be careful not to rush into thing if you want more of a serious relationship! If not, I feel that this would be a fun fling.

Pile 6:

Your songs -

Jasmine by DPR Live

I Wanna Be Down by Brandy

Who Can I Run To by Xscape

Your dessert -

Galaxy raindrop cake 💧

What makes you sweet?:

Ace of Pentacles, Seven of Pentacles, & Wheel of Fortune

Pile 6, I see that you're someone who's very generous with their wealth. Very similar to pile 1, you could be good with your finances, and have a lot of high quality material items. You're someone who takes value in the finer things and show gratitude for everything you have because there are those who are without. Whenever someone is struggling or is in need of help, you're always there! You're someone people can count in terms of an emergency. When people get asked about you they have fond memories of how much you been there for them (shit even me, I need more friends like you pile 6 😭). You're a down ass bitch! I feel that fortune is always on your side because of how selfless you are. Like pile 3, I feel that you could also know about manifestation, and use it to improve your life. You could do this without knowing. You could visualize yourself being rich or you affirm that you're lucky when it comes to money. I heard that your parents are very proud of you as well! You could really have an old soul pile 6. Your style could be more casual or reminiscent of the 80s/90s. I'm seeing mom jeans, crop tops, high top sneakers, jelly bracelets, henna tattoo chokers, gold chain, and mini hoop earrings.

Who's sweet on you?:

Six of Swords, The World, & Ace of Cups

Aw pile 6, so I see that a lot of people can depend on you but you don't have many people that you can turn to when you need help or need to take a load off 🥺 you could feel stressed because of this but don't worry someone will be coming in your love life soon! You could meet them overseas or while traveling. I'm getting military vibes so either you or this person will be in the military, if not the job requires traveling or dealing with foreign people/places. You and this person will have a harmonious relationship. So expect a new chapter and a good change in your love life!

Pile 7:

Your songs -

Generous by Doja Cat

No Silhouette by DPR Ian

Brooklyn Baby by Lana Del Rey

Your dessert:

Cannoli 🥖

What makes you sweet?:

Pile 7, your style is reminding me of mirror palais, summers in spain/Italy/mexico, or "bible study" outfits. Your style could cater to your religious beliefs or it's reminiscent of a holy figure. I feel that you could also dress very preppy. I'm seeing crosses, rosaries, cloaks, scarves, concho belts, a necklace with some sort of significant pendant (crystals, cross, buddha, etc), slippers/flats, stockings, long skirts, headbands, and button up tops. You have a very innocent and holy appearance. Some of you could be very sophisticated as well (its giving "my name is Bella Hadid"). People could think you're so pure that they're afraid of tainting you (in a nsfw way 😭). You make people blush because of how attractive you are. You could have a babyface, look younger than your actual age, or you have a youthful personality. People consider you "God's favorite" because of how perfect you seem or think God took their time with making you. You could be into modeling or you look like a model. Your lips could be nice and plump. They have a alluring shape with a vibrant color (they could be cherry red or they have a nice pink in the center of them if your lips are two toned). I am reminded of Monica Belluci in the role Milena where she had ginger hair and all the men were so seduced by her without her even trying (the scene where they were lighting her cigarette) and Salma Hayek in Desperado (where she caused people to crash their cars because of how hot she was 😂). You exude this femme fatale energy and could be becoming more "grown woman/man/person fine". This could also mean if you're underage, you could have major glow up after you're finished with puberty. You could also pray or be very devoted to your faith and people find that admirable.

Who's sweet on you?:

Five of Cups, The High Priestess, & Knight of Pentacles

You've been disappointed a lot in when it comes to your love life. You feel as though no one can satisfy you. You could have had your heart broken in a previous relationship so therefore you decided to stay single. I do feel that someone wants to come in though to show their love for you and will back up their words with action taking. They could be intimidated by you but they won't let their self esteem get in the way. They're gonna be persistent until you give in. Although pile 7, I suggest you heal wounds from your past relationship as well, it could cause you to self sabotage in your dating life, and prevent you from ever moving on. You deserve to be loved and receiving the pleasures of being in a happy relationship. So make sure to give them a chance when they come along.

Pile 8:

Your songs -

Headlines by McClenney

10% by Kaytranada & Kali Uchis

Jungle by Drake

Your dessert -

Creme Brulé 🍮

What makes you so sweet?:

Five of Pentacles, Justice, & Ace of Swords

Wow pile 8, you are someone who is fair and fights for equality. You hate to see people being kicked down and mistreated so you would do anything in your power to make sure others are safe. You're honestly a hero. For some people in this pile, you guys could have been abandoned by your parents, or was a orphan so because of this would you do your best to make sure that doesn't happen to anyone around you. You could do community service or take time out of your day to do activities with the kids that come from low income families. That's so sweet and I'm sorry that you went through that 🥺. If not, you have had really greedy people in your life. Whether it's a family member or authority in the workplace, they take from you a lot. Whether financially or emotionally. You could use your knowledge from these past situations for activism or fighting legal battles. You could work as a social worker, activist, politics, human relations, or in the legal system. Also people appreciate you for your great advice! You are very logical but at the same time optimistic. You know how to balance your brain and your heart, which not many people can do. You are a very strong person, pile 8.

Who's sweet on you?:

Ten of Wands, The Chariot, & King of Cups

You and this person could have broken up? I feel that this an ex who is wanting a second chance with you or a friend of yours who wants to be more than friends. You could have rejected them and they feel burdened by this because they still have feelings for you. It made them retreat and hide but they are not going to give up on this connection. You could have broken up with them because or their lack of vulnerability. They could have been uncomfortable with talking about their feelings or avoided having serious conversations, it triggers them. They are going to come back with a open heart to tell you how much you mean to them. For some people in this pile, this person might even propose to you 😲 if not a proposal for marriage, they could just ask you again to be their partner.

Pile 9:

Your songs -

Don't Hurt Me by DJ Mustard, Nicki Minaj, & Jeremih

Come Into You by Jimmy Brown

I Like U by Niki

Your dessert -

Gingersnap cookies 🍪

What makes you so sweet?:

Six of Cups, Page of Pentacles, & Seven of Cups

Pile 9, you are so cute😆! I feel like out of all the piles you are the youngest either in age or maturity. You could be someone thats very bubbly, clumsy, and full of energy. You have a childlike charm and your expressions are very sweet. I'm getting like how when little kids ask a question and they tilt their head while they do it. You just have this innocence to you but I also feel that you can be very mischievous. You could like to tease your peers and people find it very funny 😂. You could be very smart as well and do/did well in school! I'm getting that you're a teacher's pet and you always get good grades. You could give your teacher a hard time sometimes too (some of you could have talked too much in class and that would stress your teacher out LOL 😭). This pile honestly has me cracking up. You could also have a very big imagination. You could daydream a lot or fantasize about things a lot. People often wonder what you're thinking about when you do that. You could also have a lot of goals or are very creative. This pile gives off main character energy. It reminds me of Devi from Never Have I Ever or Jess from New Girl.

Who's sweet on you?:

Four of Wands, The Lovers, & Ten of Pentacles

I see that there's two cases for this pile. On one side you guys have a crush on someone or the other side they have someone who has a crush on them but despite that I'm seeing that the feelings are mutual for both parties! You know this person already and could be in the talking stage. I'm getting like a light, fun, flirty, playful energy between you and this person. You guys might have even already go on out on a date or will make plans to go out on a date soon. Which is so cute because as things develop and get more serious you both will realize that you're in love with each other 🤭. I'm having a vision of a couple blushing and being nervous to make eye contact 😭💓. This is going to be a long term relationship for sure and your families will be happy to see you guys together. I'm seeing like your families getting together for the holidays or coming together for dinner. For my younger kids in pile 9, this could mean your parents will allow you to date them, and when they introduce you to their parents, they will approve of the relationship so yay! 🥰

Thanks so much for reading! Have a nice day, here's a little treat 🍭🧁🍨🍬🍡🍦🧋🍧🍩

#pac #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot readings #tarot deck #tarot #tarot cards #shufflemancy #free readings #pendulum reading #astrology #astro observations #astrology observations #witchcraft #wicca #kpop #witches of color #black tarot readers

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604to647 · 5 months ago

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Strawberry Shortcake (part 2 of 2)

13.4K / Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Summary: How are you supposed to avoid Frankie when your son and his daughter are becoming best friends?

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Angssssst and mutual pining. Single parenthood, mention of the death of a spouse, divorce (no detail). Mention of f!masturbation, slow burn, nicknames (Shortcake, baby, hermosa), minor appearance by TF boys. Everyone is a dummy. Wee bit of spice for these dummies at the end (no spoilers but let’s just say Frankie may be a dad, but he's also daddy).

A/N: Uhhhh sorry for the word count 🫣 Thank you so much for the lovely reception to Part 1 🥹🍓🍰The feel of this part is very different than the first; due to the setting of Part 1, it was a lot more sensual. This part is more domestic, almost a friends-to-lovers slow burn - I hope people who liked the first part will still find it enjoyable 🫣 Unfortunately, Frankie does not get 🍴😺 in this part (spoiler) which is honestly just a darn shame, so I wrote an Epilogue that I will post together with Part 2, which is a bit more of mixed vibe of the two previous parts. Thank you for reading!

Part 1 / Epilogue / Series Masterlist 🍓🍰

Strawberry dividers by @saradika-graphics 😘🍓

It could be two seconds. Possibly a whole minute. Maybe even ten.

You honestly can’t tell how long you and Francisco stand outside the kindergarten class room staring at each other.

At a loss for words, you don’t even know how to begin a conversation that you couldn’t have imagined ever having. You never thought you’d see Francisco again, and certainly not under these circumstances – that he has a daughter is entirely news to you, though not unfair. Afterall, he didn’t know you have a son. During your time together, you had omitted certain personal details out of self preservation and it would seem, so did he.

After you had left the club, Francisco remained an ever-present figure in your fantasies: your handsome and courteous gentle giant who made you feel safe and desired, and whose touch you only knew once – a first and last kiss that still makes your body strum just to recall. His soft looks and soulful expressions dominated your nighttime dreams and sometimes even your daytime ones. He wasn’t supposed to come to life.

And yet, here he is, standing in front of you looking even more striking than you remember. Your memories failed to capture the way his brown eyes fleck with gold, or the way the facial scruff you loved running your fingers through is adorably patchy in that one spot along his left jawline. His hair is slightly longer than you remember, but the curls that peek out from beneath his familiar Standard Oil cap look to be just as touchable as the ones you’d twist around your fingers in that private room at the club.

Your fingers itch as if recalling some latent muscle memory, but it’s Francisco who moves first.

Stepping forward, he approaches you with his hand out to shake yours, “Hi, I’m Frankie. Valentina’s dad.”

Oh.

That’s what you’re doing. You’re pretending you’ve never met before.

Your heart constricts painfully in your chest as you reciprocate his gesture and introduce yourself as your son’s mother. Francisco’s smile at your name is kind, but you see nothing more to it behind his eyes.

It’s not lost on you that this is the first time Francisco has reached out and touched you of his own volition. Unless you counted that soft kiss you had felt on your back after he helped you redress on your last night together; in this moment, you think you must have imagined it – perhaps it would be best not to count it at all.

Frankie’s warm, firm hand lets go of your softer one as quickly as he had grasped it, darting past you to shake the hands of the other parents standing in the same hallway. You turn and smile, introducing yourself as well, and for the next several minutes your small group of parents makes small talk about your children and continue to sneak peeks into the kindergarten classroom until the teacher comes to close the door with a reassuring smile.

Once the remaining parents have said their polite goodbyes, you turn to look for Francisco but find that he’s already left the building. You see his retreating figure halfway down the path to the parents’ parking lot, walking hurriedly.

He can’t get away from you fast enough, you realize, devastated.

You manage to hold your tears in until you park outside of work. Sitting in your car, you sob stupidly. You had thought of Francisco every day since you left The Midnight Palace. Wondered if he had been hurt when he had come back and found out you had left. Thought about what he might be doing and if work at the hangar was less stressful these days. Fantasized about where your relationship might be if you had met and dated like regular people. Heard his soft voice in your head while in bed, guiding your hand between your legs and bringing you to a thundering climax to images of his handsome face, playful smirk and lustful gaze. But never in your wildest imagination did you think he would pretend not to know you.

The rest of your work day is filled with free floating thoughts about Francisco popping up to distract you from your work - all depressing.

Could he be married? You suppose you had never asked, just assumed he wasn’t from the lack of ring. With some distress, you allow that you didn’t know he had a child - a hidden wife wouldn’t be too farfetched.

Suddenly ashamed, you realized that while there had definitely been some kind of connection, due to the nature of how you met, every physical advance had been made by you. You were the one who had pushed forward your physical relationship, taking every next step that he had never asked for.

No. You can’t bring yourself to believe it. The Francisco you had met didn’t seem like the type to cheat – he had been honourable, respectful, kind. But then again, it’s possible you didn’t know him at all, you concede sadly.

Maybe his reaction this morning’s reaction had been due to shock. You had felt it as well, and you suppose everyone processes the unexpected differently. Perhaps after school you’ll get a chance to speak with Francisco, or rather Frankie, and the two of you can figure this out together.

But pick-up goes much the same as drop-off. You see Frankie among the other parents waiting in the hall, amiably chatting, and though he acknowledges you with a small nod when he sees you join the conversation, he otherwise ignores you. You’re grateful for when the bell rings, not sure how much longer you can maintain a neutral expression and keep the tears prickling the corners of your eyes at bay.

The children stream out of the room in a sudden burst of activity, each ramming themselves into a waiting parent, excitedly chatting about their day. Your full attention happily turns to Raynor, and you don’t even realize that Frankie has left until you see him drive by on the way to your car, Valentina’s smiling face pressed up against the back window waving wildly to your son.

And it’s the same every day after: simple salutations and impersonal small talk at drop-off and pick-up. More often than not, Frankie barely looks at you - he’s never rude or unkind, but disappointingly detached and uninterested. It’s as if those summer nights in that private room never happened, or worse, they did but didn’t mean to him what they had meant to you. It becomes painfully clear to you that they didn’t.

Some time during the third week of school, an epiphany hits you like a ton of bricks: he’s embarrassed. Maybe even ashamed. And while you don’t think it’s warranted, you can empathize. Maybe he’s embarrassed to have seen the mother of his daughter’s friend half naked. Or maybe he’s embarrassed that someone outside his army buddies knows how often he frequents a strip club. As far as you could tell, he had been candid and honest with what he did choose to share with you in that room, and perhaps he hadn’t expected those raw and vulnerable feelings to be known by someone he would see nearly every day. Maybe he was just embarrassed by it all, you. It crushes you that what are cherished memories for you would cause Frankie any distress, but you’re not so unfeeling that you would want to force him to feel any more discomfort than he already does.

So, you don’t push and you don’t engage; you let Frankie ignore you and even though your heart is broken, you can’t find it within you to harbour any malice towards this man who was once the source of so much comfort and desire.

This works as well as it can until Raynor starts asking if he can have a playdate with Valentina.

“Just call her.”

Completely useless advice. His friends are full of absolute nonsense suggestions.

Frankie has no idea what to do. You’re slipping away again and he has no clue how to coax you back to him. And neither do Santi, Will or Benny, apparently.

Every recommendation they make is predicated on Frankie having not made a total ass of himself since the start of school. So absolutely useless. Frankie presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and groans in frustration. You’re an idiot, Morales.

On that first day of school, he had been so preoccupied with comforting Valentina that he hadn’t noticed you until you turned around in that hallway. It was you – in a much more covered up state of dress, hair and face softer in the light of day that he had been used to, but it was you.

A million emotions race through his very soul the second he recognizes your face: shock, disbelief, relief, desire being the most prominent. Frankie’s immediate instinct is to pull you into his arms and cup your pretty face in his hands – to trace every slope and line with his fingers (and maybe his lips) to make sure you were real.

Fuck. He had missed you so much.

Returning to The Midnight Palace two weeks after that unforgettable kiss, Frankie had been confused, then worried when you weren’t there. He knew you were planning on going back to your lab assistant job at the end of the summer, but that wasn’t supposed to be for a few more weeks. Your unexpected absence left him hallow and worried, realizing that he actually knew very little about your life – something could have happened to you and he would never know. He had sat stage side with the boys, fidgeting and anxious the whole night; eyes darting to the employee entrance every time there was movement - thinking, hoping you might walk in and flash him that drop-dead gorgeous smile of yours that he took comfort in every day.

But you never showed.

And two weeks later you still weren’t there. After Frankie had sulked for hours, terrifying the new cocktail waitress with his scowl, Will had taken pity on him and asked Sasha, the dancer from whom you borrowed the strawberry scented glitter gel that he loved so much, and that’s when he finally learned that you had left three weeks ago.

Frankie was despondent. He hadn’t felt the way he felt about you in a really long time and he had harboured secret hopes that the two of you might try take what you shared in the private room out of the club, into the real world. After one too many pep talks from his friends, he finally worked up the courage to ask you out only to discover you gone for good, leaving him no way to find you. The boys tried to cheer him up by offering to buy him a lap dance, but Frankie had refused – he didn’t want it. He wanted you. He had cut the night short and hadn’t joined his friends at The Midnight Palace since; he didn’t need your absence thrown in his face on a regular basis.

He dreams of you constantly. Hazy, dimly lit dreams illuminated by that smile he can’t forget; flashes of soft curves and barely-there wisps of fabric that laid snug overtop. Your lithe fingers dance into his mind’s eye until his sensory memory kicks in and his skin prickles while he sleeps, remembering how it felt when you would touch him – silky soft caresses along the worn lines of his face, lips, hands that always made him long for more of you. He wakes up hard and missing you more than when he went to sleep, deflating when he remembers that he’ll never feel your touch again.

Now here you are and it’s not a dream. You’re here. Close enough to touch.

But just as Frankie is about to reach for you, two things happen simultaneously. The first is he realizes the two of you aren’t alone and that a few other kindergarten parents stand behind you. He suspects that you might not want to share your reunion with strangers or field any potential questions about how the two of you might know each other.

The second is that he’s hit with a wave of crippling doubt. What if you weren’t happy to see him? Maybe you hadn’t thought and dreamt of him every day since that last, incredible encounter together like he did you. Afterall, you hadn’t left him a note or any way to contact you; perhaps you had put him out of your mind and left him behind as a memory of the summer, much like you did the club.

So, at the very last second Frankie pivots and shakes your hand, introducing himself then immediately does the same with the other parents, not wanting to single you out in front of them.

The look of hurt on your face flashes for only a millisecond, but Frankie sees it. He immediately regrets his actions, but as the subsequent minutes tick by, filled with inconsequential small talk among the parent group, he can’t think of a way to recover and like a coward, he runs.

Frankie meant to start over with you at pick-up, but once more the two of you aren’t alone so he again opts for a polite interaction over an overly familiar one. And then his priority is Valentina, as yours was your son, and the chance to reconnect once again slips through his fingers.

It’s same the next day and the next, and the following week and the one after that, until it’s been so long and the list of things left unsaid between the two of you grows overwhelming, that even if you had missed him and wanted to rekindle something, you most certainly didn’t anymore. Maybe you even hated him a little.

So, Frankie resigns himself to having what he can of you without crossing any lines, just like it was for him back at the club. He steals glances at you at school when you’re not looking and catches up on your life based on what he overhears you sharing with other parents or when he’s lucky enough to be part of the group you’re addressing. The more he learns about you, the more he admires you – you make juggling parenthood and an impressive career look easy. You were still the sweet and gentle creature he had fallen for over the summer, but now he knows you to be whip smart and a wonderful mom. He didn’t think you could be any sexier or more beautiful than how he remembered you, but he’s happily proven wrong day after day.

And you still smell like strawberries.

Sometimes it takes all of Frankie’s self control not pull you into his embrace and spill out his feelings right there in front of your children’s hung artwork, so he tries not to look at you too much.

His heart calls for you. But you aren’t his to have. Maybe you never were.

It’s possible that Frankie may have just gone on living with this ever-present dull ache in his heart, resigned to being near but so terribly far away from you, if it weren't for his darling precocious daughter who insisted on being best friends with your son.

Fed up with her father’s evasive answers and non-committal promises of talking to you about a playdate, young Valentina Morales decides that she’s going to try her hand at those “good decisions” her teacher is always talking about. She and her best friend Raynor whisper secretly as they exit their classroom at the end of the day, looking up in tandem when they’ve stopped right in front of you.

“Raynor’s mom? Could Raynor and I have a playdate?” Valentina smiles sweetly.

“Oh!” they’ve surprised you but not really - Raynor has been ask for the same for the past two weeks. Your son and his best friend look up expectantly at you, eyes full of hope and excitement – manipulative little buggers, you chuckle to yourself. Valentina’s little smile is especially beguiling; Francisco must never be able to say no to this face.

Francisco. Right. You look up to see Frankie looking at his daughter with a mortified expression – you almost laugh out loud. Yep, it’s clear who the boss in the Morales household is.

You kneel down to get to the kids’ level, “Alright. How about this, girly-pop? I’m taking to Ray-ray to the aquarium this weekend and if,” you pause here for effect and reiterate again, “if your father says it’s okay, you should definitely come with us and we can get lunch, and catch the walrus show, and stick our hands in the touch pools until they tell us to stop. What do you think?”

Valentina and your son nod their little heads eagerly. You smile at them and then up at Frankie, the two of you exchanging soft, familiar smiles.

“What about right now?”

Your head snaps back to your son and his friend, the two of them now smiling conspiratorially.

“Mama, Valentina says her and her dad are going to the park right now. Can we go too?”

Ohhhh… you had underestimated these two. Completely unable to come up with an excuse on the spot, you open and close your mouth two or three times, “Well… um… I’m sure that… uh…”

Frankie saves you, “If you’re free, we’d love for you and Raynor to join us at the park. It’s the one a few blocks from here and we were just going to walk.”

You look at Francisco, wide-eyed. This might be the most he’s spoken to you since the start of school; this smidgen of attention shouldn’t make your heart beat the way it does, but you feel nervous and maybe even excited about spending some time with Frankie after all this time. Dumbly, you nod. The children cheer and high-five each other.

The walk to the park is short and easy, the children happily skipping hand in hand ahead of you and Frankie – but between the two of you, there is a vague undercurrent of tension that settles in the pit of your stomach as you walk. This is the first time since the club that you’ve been alone with Frankie – it’s funny, in the private room you wore nothing but your underwear and never felt as exposed as you do now.

The children run straight to the playground as you and Frankie settle on a nearby bench, sitting on opposite ends with snacks for the kids laid out between you.

Frankie opens a Tupperware container full of cut vegetables and unscrews a little container of ranch dip, sucking his fingers clean of any overspill; you can’t help but stare, practically drooling at the sight of him popping his thick, meaty fingers between his plush lips. When Frankie catches you looking, he chuckles and you avert your eyes quickly with a smile.

To save face, you say the first thing that comes to mind, “That’s a lot of snacks.”

The two of you share an easy laugh while Frankie offers you the container and you gladly select a few cucumber slices.

“Gotta have all the options,” explains Frankie, “Valentina changes her mind about food constantly. Never know if this is the week she decides grapes are evil.”

“Oh, Raynor is the same way. Some days I feel like the lunch I pack him is just performance art for the teacher.”

There’s a pause of quiet after you both chortle at the ridiculousness of your children’s eating preferences. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is palpable.

You find yourself obliged to fill the unaddressed divide between you and Frankie; you’re almost loathed to broach this topic, but you can’t be sure this new pleasantry isn’t a one-time thing so tentatively you ask, “Does Valentina’s mom ever do drop-off or pick-up? I work at home at night as part of my flexible hours arrangement so I can do both, but it can’t be easy as a mechanic and pilot.”

It’s the first time either of you has made even the slightest allusion to having known each other previously, and though you look nervous to have done it, Frankie finds it a relief that you broke the ice.

“Twice a month I work weekends to make up the hours, but the boss isn’t that strict – it’s Pope,” he grins, and you do too, having forgotten that his friend helped run the hangar Frankie worked at.

“Oh my goodness! How is he? How are Will and Benny?” you ask amiably.

“They’re all great – I don’t see Will and Ben as much as I do Santi, but at least once a week, they come by for tea time with Valentina,” Frankie grins.

Your giggles at this image are so pure and unadulterated, Frankie feels his heart lighten just from the sound. You seem to have forgotten the part of your original question about Valentina’s mom, but Frankie hasn’t, “… and Valentina stays every second weekend with her mom. Friday night to Sunday afternoon… so no school stuff.” He flits his eyes to the playground to check on the kids who are playing some type of pirate ship pretend, and mouths the word ‘Divorce’.

“Oh,” you nod, sympathetically, “I’m sorry.” You realize this explains why Frankie would only come in to the club every second Friday.

“It’s okay,” says Frankie, matter-of-factly, “it’s better this way. We’re both happier. And I think that’s a good thing for Valentina.”

You nod because you vehemently agree. From what you’ve seen of some of your friends’ marriages, divorce is hard on kids, but an unhappy household is worse. You follow Frankie’s lead and watch the kids for a bit too before you hear him hesitantly clear his throat, “And Raynor’s dad? He isn’t one for pick-up and drop-off?”

Eyes shiny, your tone is gentle, “Raynor’s dad passed when he was just a baby. He never knew him.” It’s been over five years and your grief still comes and goes, sometimes sharp, other times dull. Sometimes Raynor will do something that reminds you so much of your late husband, you find yourself locking yourself in the bathroom and sobbing. Other times, the resemblance will fill you with nostalgia and joy, and you’ll startle your son with your seemingly sudden burst of affection – you never really know how it will go, but you’ve learned to let it come in whatever form it chooses; just feel it and ride it out. Today, here with Frankie, it’s a small tug to your heart that prickles just a little so that tears mist your eyes but don’t spill over. You glance over at Frankie who’s looking at you with such a kind and loving expression that you have to turn away, afraid your naïve heart will misinterpret his look for feelings that don’t exist; you finish softly, “It was a car accident.”

Frankie feels his heart clench upon learning that you’re a widow. He would have never guessed. At the club, and during the limited time he’s spent with you at the school, you always seem to carry yourself with such an unflappable grace - voice gentle and laughter ready and light. That you do so having suffered such tragedy in your life makes him admire you more than he already does; Frankie’s heart is bursting with emotion and his hands itch to pull you in for a hug. Instead, he clenches his fists and says with as much tenderness as he can, “I’m sorry for your and Raynor’s loss.”

“Thank you,” you say softly; you don’t detect any pity in Frankie’s voice – only sympathy and compassion. You’re grateful for him.

You wouldn’t have predicted it, but this small moment of vulnerability seems to wash away all the awkwardness and hesitancy that you and Frankie never even acknowledged. Your conversation flows easily afterwards, much like it did back in that private room when you would sit in his lap and the two of you would just talk. Talking to Frankie now is as easy as it was then - he’s as good of a listener as you remember and his own stories and comments are shared with an infectious light humour, engaging and inviting. In fact, you end up so engrossed in the conversation, you absentmindedly eat half of Valentina’s snacks – for which Frankie teases you mercilessly. In response, you pull secret snack bags out of your purse and he doubles over in laughter, “You’ve been holding out on me!”

When the kids have had their fill of play and snack, your foursome starts on the walk back to the cars. During this time, you easily pull from Valentina that she prefers your snacks over her fathers; you mockingly pat Frankie on the shoulder and declare that it’s about variety. When Valentina pointedly says to you she hasn’t forgotten about the aquarium playdate, Frankie leans over and whispers, “Now we know why she said your snacks are better,” and you giggle uncontrollably. Frankie thinks his heart might burst out of his chest.

And that’s how your friendship with Frankie Morales begins.

He comes to aquarium on Sunday and the visit is beyond pleasant, all the more so due to the company – you and Frankie hang back while the kids walk hand and hand from exhibit to exhibit, only being called forth when they need an adult to read from info cards about the exotic marine life. The two of you chat animatedly with no awkward pauses, the only breaks coming from gentle looks exchanged when you pause to take in the happiness and joy of your children.

You have to admit, in the darkness of the aquarium, Frankie looks exceptionally handsome – reminding you a little of how he looked in the dim lighting at the club. The shadows cast by the watery tanks accentuate his strong jaw line and aquiline nose, making Frankie’s already striking profile all the more breathtaking. When you unexpectedly see him through the jelly fish tank, a gasp escapes on the soft exhale of your breath at how his expressive eyes catch the light reflecting off the water; he’s really so beautiful. You quickly look away so not to be caught in your ogling – the two of you have only begun to reconnect as friends; you don’t want things to go back to being awkward and stilted just because you can’t keep things appropriate.

The walrus and seal lion show put Raynor and Valentina in such high spirits, that you can’t bear to separate them so soon after; all agree to extend the playdate longer to a fun and lively dinner, where you and Frankie show off your crayon colouring skills on the restaurant placemats. The children declare your masterpieces to be a tie.

Your renewed ease with one another and Raynor and Valentina’s fast blooming friendship lead to more afterschool park playdates with Frankie during the week and you hosting playdates at your house on the weekends. Every so often, Frankie’s friends will organize an activity for the kids; it might be a small cookout, some mini sports game for the kids (t-ball, soccer, touch football), or even one of those famous tea parties that Benny likes so much – but Uncle Santi, Uncle Will and Uncle Ben welcome your son with open arms and you couldn’t be more grateful.

You don’t have any brothers, and one thing you’ve always felt a little insecure about is the lack of male figures in Raynor’s life – you don’t think it means anything’s missing, but the truth is you don’t know how what you can’t provide impacts your young son. You’re thankful for the positive male camaraderie energy and filial love that Frankie and his friends demonstrate and shower upon your son; when you tell Frankie this, his heart shatters and soars at the same time. He finds single fatherhood to be more challenging that he’s sometimes willing to admit, but in some ways, he chose it with open eyes – he can’t imagine what it must have been like to have Raynor’s father, your partner, ripped from you, and have to carry forth taking on both parental roles. Frankie thinks you’re doing a more than admirable job and when he tells you so, you cry a little.

You’ve watched Frankie as a father: he’s kind and doting, gentle and patient when he needs to be, and models for Valentina how to be selfless and considerate. Ever aware of his own and his daughter’s limits and boundaries, he keeps her safe while encouraging her in the most energetic and supportive way in all her endeavours. You find Valentina to be a charming, smart and forthright child, capable of a wonderful mix of compassion, sweetness and playfulness – her outgoing personality is such a welcomed compliment to your son’s sometimes more cautious nature; Raynor’s own strong confidence often tempering her impulsiveness. She’s such a lovely friend to Raynor and you find that you love her very much. You attribute so much of what you love about to Valentina to her fantastic father; for him to compliment your own parenting means the world.

As the months go on, the children’s ever more frequent playdates tie you and Frankie together for most days and even some nights. Daytime play easily extends to include dinners at your respective houses, and somehow dinners start to transition into movie nights on your couch that are spent with the four of you under blankets and passing the popcorn back and forth. On that first night of many where the kids fall asleep before the movie ends, you agree with Frankie that it would be a potential disaster to move Valentina too much when transporting her home and risk a full out melt down – you offer the guest bedroom as a much more amenable option. A relieved Frankie sleeps on the couch.

The next morning, the two of you wake before the children and meet in your kitchen, already bright with sunlight streaming in through the big bay window that overlooks your backyard. You realize with an ache that Francisco does smile at you in the morning light the way he used to in the club: soft and disbelieving. You hope he can’t hear the loud beating of your heart as you make coffee, and try to settle the racing of your heart before the two of your sit at your kitchen counter and enjoy the luxury of a warm cup of coffee in the quiet, a rare respite from needing to cater to the needs of your small children. The quiet conversation during what becomes a regular weekend morning occurrence is always comforting and comfortable; it confirms what you’ve always known: Frankie Morales is a catch.

During these tranquil mornings, there’s always a moment when you have to catch yourself from falling into the dangerous trap of admitting just how attracted to Frankie you are. Sometimes you do deep breathing exercises while you rinse out the coffee cups, other times, you’ll have to step away to ignore how sweet Frankie is when he draws smiley faces on the kids’ waffles with the whipped cream. But you always have to do something. You can’t let yourself fall for Frankie.

As your children grow closer, so naturally do you and Frankie, but neither of you ever bring up your past together at the club. Not a word about how you met or what you shared those months in the summer, and certainly no mention of that last night where you bared your body to him and the two of you shared a kiss that still haunts your dreams. Any time one of you alludes to something about the other that you could have only learned during your time together in the private room, you carry on without acknowledging how you might be privy to that tidbit. It’s as if it never happened. And while those summer months live in your memory as a time when you had felt special and desired, you accept it doesn’t hold the same sentiment for Frankie.

Frankie. Always Frankie. You never ever call or think of him as Francisco. Francisco is a man who only exists in your dreams – a fantasy who openly desired a you who was sexy, in control and mysterious. He was kind, respectful, and made you feel gorgeous and wanted. For your own sanity, you force yourself to separate him from Frankie. Frankie is the father of your son’s best friend. You’re no mystery to him: he sees you at your most frazzled, tired - when you forget it’s pizza day or when you’re so late for drop-off that you’re still tucking your shirt into your skirt while rushing Raynor down the path to school. He’s kind and respectful as well, but about different things – he understands your struggles as a single mom and knows just how to lift your spirits and encourage you when you need it the most or lends a helping hand with the kids and household tasks before you even had to ask. He makes your life happier, lighter.

Francisco had been yours for a short time, and for that you remain grateful, but he wasn’t someone you would ever hold or kiss; you’d never know him like you had known him for those sweet summer months. He was gone.

Frankie is your friend. He’s here now and you don’t ever want to lose him.

You don’t conflate the two men because you can’t – it’s too dangerous to want something that isn’t meant for you. So, you mourn Francisco and you cherish Frankie, always holding yourself back from loving him, except perhaps in the deepest, most secret chambers of your heart.

Raynor’s birthday party is in full swing. You found one of those bouncy castle rental places that set-up inflatables in people’s backyards for a totally reasonable price and now your backyard is full of happy, bouncy kids having the times of their lives tumbling and scrambling through giant blow up houses and castles; there’s even a maze that ends in a massive ball pit. There are kids from school, kids from the neighbourhood, a few of your friends and co-workers’ kids, and even some kids whose moms have moms that play mahjong with yours. Raynor is over the moon and as far as you’re concerned, the more the merrier.

Frankie and Valentina had come over before the party started; Valentina wanting to give her best friend his present early and maybe sneak in some extra bouncy castle time. While the kids bounced, Frankie helped you set-up tables and chairs and inquired if he could run the BBQ for you; you had protested, saying that you would be able to handle it, but Frankie insisted. Now that the party is underway, you have to admit that between greeting all the kids and parents, supervising the bouncy castles and making sure that drinks and snacks are readily available, you would have struggled to cook lunch as well. As a bonus, you admit, grinning to yourself, Frankie is looking pretty good at the grill.

Getting an early start on dishes before prepping the cake, you have the perfect view of Frankie through your kitchen window; turning over hotdogs with his tongs and plating cooked hamburger patties in an adorable blue apron, Frankie looks positively delicious. His tan face brightened by his good mood and sweat from the heat of the grill dotting his rugged neck, he’s smiling a smile that reveals his elusive dimple as he takes pride and joy in his domestic responsibility.

Maybe, you think, just maybe you can allow yourself just one moment of fantasy where the food Frankie’s currently grilling is the main course to a side salad you’re preparing in the kitchen of the house the two of you share. And he’ll come in when the meat’s done the way he knows you like and wrap his arms around you from behind, pressing sweet, but hungry kisses to your neck before murmuring cheekily that he really could eat. In your daydream, you squeal when he spins you around with blinding speed before sighing into the slow, tender kiss pressed to your lips.

And perhaps your imagination might even take your make believe even further if at that exact moment you didn’t see Amanda, your mom’s mahjong friend’s daughter sauntering up to the grill flirtatiously. The happy illusion you conjured dissolves as you watch her chat up Frankie and put her arm on his bulging bicep just before his piercing brown eyes crinkle and he throws his head back in a loud laugh at her touch.

Immediately, your eyes fill with tears and the devastating scene in front of you blurs. Unable to stop them from spilling over, you strip off your dishwashing gloves and run to the bathroom as quickly as you can; locking the door behind you, you lean over the sink and sob.

Stupid. Stupid. Why are you crying? Frankie isn’t yours.

If anything – he’s less likely to be yours than anyone else’s; the two of you forever separated by your shared past at the club that embarrasses him so. And yet, you can’t help wanting him, and not even Francisco, but Frankie – the considerate man who derives simple joy from helping others, whose unwavering support has made you a more lighthearted, joyful parent, and who has readily taken up the mantle of being a calm and stable presence in your son’s life. It seems this same Frankie can also be flirty and coy, but that was for other women. Not you.

Stupid. Stupid. He doesn’t want you.

But you still wanted him. Gosh, you wanted him so much. But he isn’t yours to have.

It's so dumb to cry over a boy, you tell the tear-stained you in the mirror. You grin, imaging yourself saying that to an older Valentina one day; but even that small comfort is ripped from you as you realize with sadness that it may not be your place. No. Frankie will meet someone, it’s inevitable. He’s sweet, smart, funny and kind, and stupidly gorgeous – one day, there will be a woman who captures his heart and then you’ll have to give up your friendship for fear of succumbing to a broken heart.

Wiping away your tears and cleaning up the best you can, you tell mirror you to get it together. It’s your son’s birthday – today is about him and not your pathetic pining over his best friend’s father. The comically accusatory look you give yourself galvanizes you enough to exit the bathroom, and you walk back to the kitchen ready to finish your chores and check in on the party. Instead, you find the object of all your desires and the source of your current distress waiting for you in the kitchen.

---

Frankie’s sweating – the BBQ is hot and the party guests are gobbling up everything he cooks before he even has a chance to put more on the grill. As sweltering as it is, he’s very glad to play grill master if it means one less thing for you to have to do. He’s spent most of the party watching you juggle your multiple roles with hurried grace: mom, party host, snack fetcher, drink refiller, clean-up crew, boo-boo fixer. When he saw you bravely dive into the ball pit to help a child find her lost shoe, he had grinned to himself so goofily he almost burned the chicken wings. He didn’t think he could be more hopelessly in love with you, but he should have known you would prove him wrong, as you often did with matters of his heart. The only downside to being stationed at the BBQ is that he hasn’t spent any time with you today. He thinks he saw you duck back into the house with a stack of dirty dishes – have you eaten today? He closes up the grill and does a quick check on Valentina and Raynor before plating you some food and heading in.

He's just been standing in the kitchen wondering where you were for a few minutes when you emerge looking a bit off coloured and somewhat startled to see him.

In what has now practically become second nature, Frankie forces his body to ignore the near constant urge to reach out to you – his immediate impulse being to hold you close and stroke your face with his fingers to soothe and comfort you. You wouldn’t want that, though.

Instead, he shows his concern another way; holding out the plate of food in front of him, he looks at you with some tenderness, “Have you eaten, Shortcake?”

Heart racing upon hearing this long lost term of endearment, you’re too stunned speak, able only to silently shake your head in response.

Frankie knows that you’ll come up with some excuse to put your needs behind that of the party goers, so he puts the plate down on and guides you to sit before you can do so, “You have to eat. I’ll keep an eye out on things from here.”

Admittedly, you’re starving and the food Frankie’s brought you smells mouth watering good; with a small nod of thanks, you acquiesce. For several minutes there’s a comfortable silence while you eat and Frankie looks out the window to keep watch on the party. Between bites, you gaze adoringly at the handsome profile of the sweet man before you - he knew you hadn’t eaten and he came to take care of you, feed you with food he cooked himself. Your heart swells at his thoughtfulness and quietly you say, “You haven’t called me that in a long time.”

Frankie looks back at you. He doesn’t need to ask what you mean, “I didn’t think I should. Not in front of the other parents.”

You nod, understanding, “I guess it would be rather embarrassing to have to explain.”

Brows furrowing, Frankie looks at you for a beat before turning to face you fully, trying to keep his voice even, “I want you to know, I would never tell anyone about the club… please know, I’m not embarrassed by it and I don’t think you should be either… not saying you are, just that you don’t have any reason to be… but some people can be weird and judgemental about that kind of thing… I want you to rest assured that I won’t ever put you in a position like that.”

It’s the first time since the start of the school year that Frankie’s acknowledged how the two of you met or even mentioned the club – it never occurred to you that his avoidance of the topic was to protect you. For the billionth time since you met him, you’re touched by the considerate nature of this man, “Thank you, Frankie. I wasn’t worried that you would, but I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“Always, Shortcake.”

The two of you exchange a soft smile, not unlike the ones you used to share back at The Midnight Palace, as if you’re each thinking back to your time together there. Afraid of becoming too wistful, Frankie jokes lamely, “Plus, I would be outing myself as a loser who has to pay a beautiful woman to talk to me every two weeks.”

Even if he’s saying it like a joke, there’s an undercurrent of melancholy to Frankie’s tone that you don’t understand – but you try to reassure him anyways, “No, no - don’t say that, Frankie. I could never think you’re a loser. And it was never about the money for me – I wanted to talk to you, really.”

Lifting his cap and running his hand through his hair before rubbing the back of his neck, Frankie chuckles softly, “Ok, thanks… that’s good to hear.”

It strikes you that he may be looking for some similar reassurance that you won’t “out” him, the way he had assured you, “And same here. I would never share that about you. You’re right, you never know how people might react to that kind of thing. I look back at the time we spend together so fondly and I’m so very appreciative of how well you treated me… I could never forgive myself if how we met somehow caused you any problems, or got in the way of anything you wanted. So, please don’t worry about me telling anyone either.”

Your wording choice seems a bit odd to Frankie, but still, his heart perks up a little to hear you say that your memories of your time together at the club are pleasant, and he simply says, “Ok, thank you.”

You didn’t realize that having this unspoken thing between you and Frankie had been like an albatross around your neck, but suddenly you feel a lot happier and cheery. Having finished your food, you clean up after yourself and head to the fridge, chirping, “Do you mind helping me with the cake?”

You know Frankie’s answer without even seeing him nod; this generous man has never turned down an opportunity to help you. When you place the cake in front of him, he beams, “Oooh! Strawberry shortcake! My favourite.”

Smiling, you say somewhat shyly, “I remember.” Your mind immediately travels back to sitting in Frankie’s lap, scantily clad, the very glitter gel that inspired him to tell you this fact about himself spread generously over the ample curve of your breasts. Frankie’s mind goes straight to the same memory and his face reddens.

Practically stuttering, you try to explain, “… but that’s not why I made it! Raynor requested the cake!”

Your flustering doing nothing but endearing you to him further, Frankie can’t help but tease, “Sure, sure.”

You swat at his arm, playfully, “He did!”

Grinning, Frankie lets you off the hook, “Okay, okay - lil’ dude has good taste in cake then.”

And though your heart is still far from healed, this is the best you’ve ever felt around Frankie, so reminiscent of how he and you would flirt and tease back when you first met, easy laughter always coming naturally to the two of you. You smile gratefully at him and pretend not to notice when he steals two strawberries off the top of the cake while you go to get the candles.

---

“Hey, come look.” Frankie calls to you softly from the kitchen doorway that leads to the living room. Putting down the containers of leftover food you were trying to fit into the fridge, you wander over to be greeted by the sight of Raynor and Valentina completely passed out on the couch.

A smile comes over your face when you hear their peaceful snores and you whisper to Frankie, “Can I admit something to you? It’s been ages since Raynor dropped his nap, but sometimes I really miss it.”

“Oh, I know. Sometimes I want to say to Valentina that she might be willing to give up naps, but I never agreed to forgo MY nap.” The two of you chuckle heartily.

If it were Friday or Saturday, you would offer to let them sleep and then stay up for a late sleepover, but tomorrow is the start of the school week, “What do you say we let them sleep for… an hour? Enough to burn off today’s sugar, but not too long to ruin bedtime?”

“Sounds good. I can help you clean up.”

You try to protest, Frankie has already helped so much with the party today, “Oh! Don’t feel like you need to at all! You’ve already helped me so much today, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. You really can just put on some TV or something. Sit and relax, I’ll bring you a drink.”

Frankie cocks his eyebrow at you, and it takes you a minute to realize the humour in you offering to serve him a drink.

“No! That’s not what I was… shut up!” you laugh, spinning to return to the kitchen with Frankie following, snickering.

The two of you in good moods start to do the dishes, you washing and him drying – him knowing where to put things away, having done this with you many times over the last several months. It’s quiet and comfortable. You hum to yourself a little, and while you seem content – the party having gone off without a hitch, Frankie can’t help but remember the sad look on your face from when he had come into the kitchen earlier to bring you food. He could have sworn you had been crying.

“You had an okay day, Shortcake?”

You nod, “Just a little tired, maybe? But it was so worth it. The kids all had so much fun!”

It was just like you to put others before yourself, Frankie thinks; he finds it to be one of your sweetest traits, but wishes you would take care of yourself too. Maybe let someone take care of you. He tries to push down the plea from his heart that wishes he could be that someone.

He’d like to think he’s gotten rather good at reading you after all this time together and is sure that there’s something still bothering you. While he dries the dishes, he thinks back to your conversation earlier; it had a been a long time coming and he’s glad the two of you finally ripped the band aid off the one topic you never seemed to talk about. He didn’t know how heavily your opinion of the time you shared in the private room mattered to him until he heard you say that you looked back upon it fondly. Upon him fondly. That you hadn’t thought him a total creep. He had felt a weight lifted off him immediately, and in truth, a little hope started to burrow into his heart that maybe that time had meant something to you the way it did him. He suddenly recalls something you said that he remembers puzzling over, but hadn’t asked you about at the time.

“What did you mean earlier when you said you didn’t want how we met to ‘get in the way’? Get in the way of what? You said something I wanted.”

“Oh,” you look down, embarrassed at the tears that are starting to form at just the thought of Frankie dating, “I just meant… like you said, sometimes people get weird and judgmental about strip clubs… and if you were interested in someone… like that girl, Amanda? I wouldn’t… I mean…” You’re tripping over your words. The last thing you want to talk about is Frankie being interested in someone else, the whole concept feels like a vice around your heart. “… you shouldn’t be judged for something like how you and I met before they get a chance to know you. You’re so sweet and respectful, and just kind and such a good father… but… I… any girl would be lucky to date you. And I would never want to get in the way of that,” you finish lamely.

“Is that what you want, hermosa?” Frankie takes a step forward, causing you to look up.

There’s a look in Frankie’s eye that you haven’t seen before. No, wait – that isn’t exactly true. You’ve seen it before but on Francisco’s face. It was the expression he had sometimes when you would just look at each other, no words exchanged – one filled with longing and desperation.

“You want me to date other girls?” he practically spits out the words, as if they don’t belong anywhere near his mouth.

You don’t know how to answer, except honestly. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” you say quietly.

Frankie looks at your fallen face and thinks he might have to walk back his earlier self assessment that he knows how to read you. You seemed sad, disappointed – but why? A big part of him just wants to comfort you and make you feel better, regardless of the cause of your unhappiness; but another part of him, the part where hope had been planted earlier and is starting to grow at a rapid pace, watered by the mere idea that you might care at all who he dated, has to know if you feel something for him. His selfishness wins out and he decides to go for broke, “It matters to me what you want.”

Your eyes soften at this declaration, and the downturn of your mouth rights itself slightly into a quizzical ‘O’, but still you say nothing so Frankie presses on.

“It matters because I’ve thought about you every single day since I met you. The whole summer, all I thought about your sweet laugh and the way you always smiled at me like what I was saying mattered to you. And how those pretty eyes of yours would light up every time you said something you already knew was really funny and you were just waiting to see if I would catch on and laugh. I thought about what it would be like to take you out, court you, treat you like you deserve. Hold you without a time limit,” the look Frankie gives you at this confession is of both despair and relief, as a dam has broken and now nothing can stop his words from overflowing.

“And since that first day of school when I found you again, I’ve only thought of you more. I think of the way you’re so full of patience and compassion, and that your son is so kind and considerate because of you. And that my daughter and I are so lucky to have you both in our lives. I think about how Valentina told you once that she liked those cheese biscuits you made, and now every time you bring her a snack, there’s always at least one included. I think about how you always take of others and how everyone around you is happier for being in your presence. I think about how I want to take care of you too. I think about how I used to think you were beautiful in that club, but now you blow me away time I see you at school, or in the park, or when we’re just hanging out with the kids. I think the way you look in the kitchen on those mornings when it’s just you and me before the kids wake up is the most gorgeous a person has ever looked. It makes me think about how much I wish I was waking up next to you instead of just meeting you in the kitchen. I think about what it would be like to fall asleep holding you. I think about making you feel good, the way you deserve to feel good. I think about what it would be like to take you to bed and make you scream my name.” You’ve never heard Frankie talk like this before and your breath hitches in your throat – this is everything and more that you’ve always dreamed of hearing him say; you’re afraid to interrupt, for fear he might say it’s a mistake and take it all back.

Frankie seems to collect himself, calming, “Did you know the night I went to the club and you were gone, I was going to ask you out?” You shake your head, you didn’t know – you had harboured your own hopes, of course, that you and Francisco might see each other outside of the club, but the possibility seemed so slim and laughable, you had never even spoken them out loud.

“The guys finally hyped me enough to convince me you might say yes. I wasn’t sure, you know? I only saw you every two weeks, and I thought I was probably making more of our time together than it really was… it would have been perfectly within your rights if you were… just doing your job, you know?” Frankie is miserable at the thought. In truth, he still harbours this insecurity – since the two of you have reconnected, you haven’t given him any indication that you had thought him as more than just some patron you had to entertain every two weeks. Then again, the two of you never spoke of the time at the club at all; he had worried that this was a sent message in and of itself. Moreover, you haven’t said anything since he started his confession and he’s starting to think he might just be humiliating himself and ruining your friendship at the same time.

You shake your head violently. No, no, no. This won’t do at all! You really don’t know how Frankie could have ever thought that, but then again, you had thought he was ashamed of your time together – you can’t let another minute go by without him knowing how you felt, how he made you feel, “No, please, Frankie – don’t ever think that please. It wasn’t my job – I never went to the room with anyone but you. I never wanted to go with anyone but you. I only wanted you. I looked forward to out time together and every two weeks never felt like enough. You were so sweet and respectful, and you made me feel so perfect and desired, and so very cherished. I wanted you more than you know, Frankie. Everything that happened in that room, everything I said, everything we did – I loved it all. It was real to me.”

“Yeah?” Frankie’s feels hope he’s never felt before when he sees you smile and nod, “When you weren’t there, I was so confused. You didn’t say goodbye, so I didn’t know if something had happened to you, or if you were sick, or… I don’t know. Then I realized, you didn’t owe me a goodbye – I was just some guy whose lap you sat in…”

“Oh baby,” you reach out to touch his face. Baby. Frankie closes his eyes and leans into your touch.

“I’m so sorry! I wanted to leave you a message, but I… didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what was okay to ask from you. Maybe I was just a girl who sat in your lap, you know?”

Eyes still closed, Frankie nuzzles deeper into your palm, “No, hermosa… you weren’t. You’re so much more than that. You’re everything to me.”

Tears now prick at the corners of your eyes for a much happier reason and you cup Frankie’s face fully in your hands and soothe him by scratching his scruff, hoping he’ll recall the affectionate gesture as you say sincerely, “I would have said yes.”

“Hmmm?” Frankie revels in the feel of your soft strokes on his face – this simple but loving gesture taking him back to the club when he had you to himself, when his want for you always simmered close to the surface but where he wasn’t allowed to let it boil over. But he’s not at the club now.

Smiling wide, your heart bursts with joy and affection for this sweet man in front of you that you’ve wanted for so long - you never want him to be unsure of your feelings for him ever again, “I would have said yes, if you had asked me out.”

“Yeah?” Finally allowing himself to believe that you return his affections, that you’ve always felt the same for him as he did you, Frankie opens his eyes and allows his grin to overtake his face.

He’s so cute and boyish when he smiles like this – you spy that cute dimple making its appearance again and you beam back, “Yeah.”

Happy emotions spilling over, Frankie breathes out the question that he’s wished to ask since the first night he laid eyes on you, “Can I touch you, Shortcake?”

Voice husky and so full of need you’re practically vibrating, you nod with conviction, “Yes please, Francisco.”

Upon hearing his full name roll so sweetly off your tongue, the only name you ever called him back at the club, Frankie closes the remaining distance and is on you in an instant - lips crashing to yours with a force that nearly knocks you off your feet. His hands immediately encircle your waist to catch you just as you throw your arms around his neck and pull him close.

It’s another first kiss of sorts, this one needy and expressive and full of emotions previously thought unrequited. You kiss Frankie like you can’t quite believe you are, part of you still can’t - by some miracle of a second chance, he’s here: Francisco is here and he’s real. And he’s also Frankie, who knows you in the real world and still wants you. The very thought makes you dizzy and you take off his worn cap so you can thread your fingers through his soft curls for something to ground yourself.

Your mouths clash and tangle, every brush of your lips is frenzied, desperate, greedy. Frankie urges you to open your mouth to his and when you welcome him, he licks in, over and over, exploring and claiming every soft moan you emit as his own. His tongue slides alongside yours reassuringly and lets itself be captured by your teeth; you teasingly tug and suck on the muscle before letting it invade your mouth once more.

You’ve dreamt about your and Francisco’s first kiss a hundred times, but this, this first kiss with Frankie is something for the books. He can touch you – his hands won’t stop touching you and it makes your entire body sing. Frankie cradles you head in his big hands and lightly tugs your hair back so that you arch into to him. Once he’s satisfied, his hands roam your back, stroking up and down your spine with that just right pressure that toes the line between relaxing and electrifying; you want to melt into his touch and let him caress you with this type of reverence everywhere. Then when his hands wander down over the plush globes of your ass with feather light touches, you giggle from the ticklish feel only to dissolve into a puddle when he grabs fistfuls of your cheeks and kneads – his hands so big that the tips of his fingers nearly graze the core of you that’s already warm and clenching just from all this kissing. And throughout all this touching, as if to make up for lost time, Frankie never stops kissing you. He kisses you like he’s been starving for your touch, because he has – and now that he’s been given the go ahead to satiate his hunger, he positively devours you. You think you might pass out from the way Frankie kisses.

As he continues to overwhelm your senses, Frankie slowly walks you backwards towards the dining table and helps you hop on top; without being asked, you spread your legs to accommodate his width as he presses himself against your centre; unable to help from grinding against him, you’re sure Frankie can feel how wet you are through your leggings. You lean back, putting yourself on display and he takes the invitation readily, kissing down your neck sensually and teasing you slowly - a marked contrast from how greedy he’s been with your mouth. First, he lets loose breathy groans by your ear right before lightly nibbling your earlobe and leaving you shivering. Then, Frankie places fluttering kisses that alternate with the nuzzling from his strong nose below your ear; the subsequent transition to open mouth kisses, all nips and sucks, down your neck that ending in the laving of his tongue across your collar bones has you gasping for air.

Lightheaded and giddy, all you can do is take and whimper words of praise that have Frankie moaning against your skin:

“Oh god, Frankie, that feels so good.”

“Fuck, baby, right there… yes, oh god, right there.”

“Never stop, please. Please, Francisco, I’ve wanted this for so long, I – OH!”

Frankie’s hands have found your chest, groping and palming – somehow managing to zero in on your nipples even through the layers of your shirt and lingerie. He pinches and twists, tugs and rolls as you throw your head back and positively whine. Chuckling into the sweet spot at the bottom of your neck, he murmurs, “Can’t wait to see you in some slutty lacy thing again, Shortcake.”

You’re practically bucking into him now - wet and throbbing, all the build up to this moment has the waves of your desire and arousal cresting shamefully quick; you’re starting to feel the telltale coil below your belly tighten when you realize with a start - “Frankie! We can’t! The children!”

Frankie looks like he wants to say something else as he pauses in his efforts, but he stops and presses his forehead to yours, panting, “Right, the children.” And mutters something about how this might be worse than the no touching rule.

You giggle.

Looking at you with a mixture of unadulterated joy and devotion, Frankie finally asks, months in the making, “Next weekend when Valentina’s at her mom’s, can I take you out, Shortcake? Like a real date? Dinner?”

Shyly, you nod, “It’s a date, Francisco.” And you press your lips hard to the giant grin that spreads across Frankie’s face, catching a glimpse of that dimple you love so much before closing your eyes and sighing in happiness.

---

*Bzzzz*Bzzzz*

“Hey Frankie!” Already laying into bed, you answer your phone - giddy when you see the caller ID.

“Hey Shortcake.” You can hear Frankie’s smile.

“I miss you already.”

“I miss you too, baby.”

“Did everything go okay with bedtime?”

“Uhhhhhhhh….”

“Same here. Valentina fought sleep like it was her job.”

“Raynor tried to bribe me with a ‘it’s my birthday’.”

“Little devils,” Frankie chuckles good naturedly, unable to hide his affection for your children.

“Totally. We can’t ever let them gang up on us! It would be the end, I fear.”

“Can’t be the end, baby. It’s only the beginning for us.”

“I’m so excited for our date, Frankie.”

“Me, too hermosa. I’m going to wine and dine you like you deserve.”

“What about the other thing you said you wanted to do, Francisco?” You’re feeling cheeky.

“The other thing?”

“Something about making me scream your name?”

Immediately, he’s stuttering, “Oh… fuck, sorry. I- that was out of line. I promise, I don’t expect anything like that…”

“Frankie.”

“I would never put any pressure on you for sex or for anythin-“

“Frankie.”

“Yes?”

“Do you think you might like to make me scream your name right now?” Suddenly shy, you cover your face even though Frankie can’t see you.

His head spins, “Wh- oh, fuck. Yes, baby.”

Your voice breathy and low, “You want to know what I’m wearing, Francisco?”

“More than anything.”

“I’m wearing that black lacy bra and panty set from the club,” you had put it on after getting ready for bed, inspired to set the mood for a solo session starring Frankie, but then he had called.

“The one from our last night together?”

“Mmmmhmmmm…. Do you remember, baby?”

Frankie groans, picturing you and the lace set so perfectly in his mind, “Remember? I can’t get the image out of my mind. You know what it felt like to see you at school everyday in your pretty work clothes and know that underneath is the sexiest, hottest body I’ve ever seen?”

“Tell me what you liked about it, please.”

“So polite, baby. Such a good girl.”

You actually whimper. “Thank you, Frankie.”

“Love your pretty mouth, Shortcake. And love how that pretty lace sits on those curves of yours. Your ass bouncing just right, peeking out below the fabric. Love how those gorgeous tits of yours look, ready to spill over the tops of your bra.”

“Ohhh… Frankie baby. If we were back in that room and you could touch me, what would you do to me?”

“Holy shit, hermosa. So many things…”

“Tell me, please.”

“First I’d ask you to dance and touch yourself like you did the last time, but over your bra.”

“Nghhh-huhhhh.” You feel a warmth spread over your skin, remembering how sexy and desired Francisco always made you feel.

“Are you touching yourself right now, baby?”

Fingers tingling from just his voice, you run your hands over your breasts, softly rubbing and massaging, imagining your small hands are his. “Yes, Frankie.”

“Good girl, baby. Feel those pretty tits for me, ‘kay? I want you to grab them, be a little rough with them.”

“Oh god, yes…”

“How do they feel, hermosa?”

“The lace is smooth but the edges tickle my fingers. My tits feel so soft and full, but Francisco, baby… they’re aching for you.”

“I’m right here, Shortcake. Hook those little fingers of yours in your bra and think about me pulling those lace cups down and playing with your pretty nipples when they pop out.”

“Please, yes… daddy.” The honorific just falls from your mouth, wrapped around a soft moan that emanates from the very chest you’ve now uncovered. Yes, he may be a dad, but right now, as you arch your tits up towards the ceiling towards his imagined touch, Frankie is also your daddy.

No one has ever called him that before, but fuck if Frankie’s dick didn’t just twitch. “Oh fuck, baby… Daddy’s going to take real good care of you.”

“Feels so good… they’re so hard for you.”

“If I we were at the club, I’d roll them in between my fingers, pinching and pulling on them until you cried out, hermosa.”

You tug a little harder on your nipples at his words, before letting them drop, letting your breasts jiggle, “It hurts… but it hurts so good, daddy.”

“Let daddy kiss it better, Shortcake. You’ll feel even better when I suck on your pretty tits, baby, don’t you think?”

“Ohhhh goddddd, yes please, daddy. Want you sucking on my nipples and flicking them with your tongue.”

“Holy sh-. Run your thumbs over them gently, ‘kay? I wanna suck on those pretty peaks until you cry. I still remember them from that night, so perky and pointy. Prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you, Francisco. I love being your pretty girl.”

“You are my pretty girl. Tell me what my pretty girl wants now.”

“I wish you were here to touch me, baby.” Your voice comes out needy, bratty.

“Need your words, hermosa. Where? Tell me where you want my fingers and daddy will give you what you want.”

“My pussy, please. I want you to touch my cunt, daddy.”

“Didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth on you, baby.”

“I’m going to keep my lips and tongue on those gorgeous tits of yours and start to drag my hands down your sexy body. Think I’ll take my time tickling your stomach and hips.”

“Then when you’re squirming and begging for more, that’s when I’ll dip my hand down the front of those lacy black panties.”

You follow the guidance of his words and goosebumps rise on your skin in the wake of everywhere you drag your fingers. “Ohhhhh... baby. You’re making feel so good. I’m so wet, Francisco.”

“Want you to tell me, baby - are you touching that pussy the way you want to be touched?”

“Yes, daddy. I’m petting my pussy so slow and gentle and I love it, but I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“I know, Shortcake, and I’m not going be. Waited too long for this to be gentle. Tell daddy how wet you are.”

“I’m so wet, daddy – I’ve soaked through these panties and I’m dripping out of my needy hole.”

“Can you hear how I’m spreading it everywhere, even all over my swollen clit?”

“Holy fucking shit, Shortcake, the mouth on you.”

“I’m your dirty girl, Francisco. My dirty mouth is all yours. Wish I could take your cock in this mouth.”

“Jesus. Baby, I’m supposed to be making you scream, not the other way around. Slip a finger into that slutty little cunt for me, hermosa.”

“Ohhhh god yes, baby, I’m tight. My pussy is hugging my finger so close. Wish it was yours.”

“Oh, Shortcake, if you wanted it to be me, you would need to add a finger or two.”

You hiss at the stretch, “Gahhhhhhh – oh fuck, Frankie! It’s too much.”

“How many, baby? How many did you add while you were thinking of my thick fingers?”

“Two more, daddy. It’s too much, please.” Whining now, you feel stuffed and full, the slight sting turning you on even more and a fresh wave of arousal coats your hand.

“No, don’t take them out. Need you to stretch out your pretty hole for me.” Frankie’s tone is dark and stern, and it makes you clench down on your slippery fingers.

“Uhhhh... Fuckkk. Francisco, I can take it. Please.”

“Baby, your fingers are no match for this dick. This dick is going to ruin you.”

“I can feel my pussy gushing and dripping down my wrist.”

“If we were back in the club, I’d take your hand and lick those fingers until you were clean.”

“Frankie. Mhhmmmhhhhmhhh.” You make sure Frankie can hear you stuff you glistening fingers in your mouth and every single slurping and smacking noise you make as you lick them clean of your own juices.

“So fucking dirty. Fuck, I’m so hard for you baby. Need to get you ready so I can feed you my cock. You want that, Shortcake?”

“Yes, oh yes please daddy. All I ever wanted back in the club was to sink down on your thick cock. Wanted you to fuck me till I was cock drunk and dumb.”

“I’ll give you everything you want, baby but we have to prep that greedy cunt of yours, okay? If you want my cock, put three fingers back in baby.”

“So big, daddy.” Sighing, you ease your wet fingers back in; the squelching sound of your fingers sliding through your slick makes you quiver with anticipation.

“Do you know now much I wanted to taste you when we were in the club?”

“Oh god, Francisco. Please.”

“Wanted to run my tongue over that pussy of yours. I knew it would be the prettiest pussy I ever saw.”

“Your pussy, baby. This pussy is only yours.” You sigh at the simple truth of your words as you work your fingers in and out of your cunt, pretending they’re Frankie’s.

“You still have my pussy stuffed full of your fingers, Shortcake?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl. Now use your other hand to rub your little clit and pretend it’s me stroking it with my tongue.”

“Uhhhhhhh, nghhhh, fuckkkkkkk, Frankie… your tongue feels so good against my slippery clit. Are you touching yourself, baby?”

“Got my cock out the minute you told me you were wearing that same slutty lingerie you wore at the club, hermosa.”

“Did you like what I wore at the club, Francisco?”

“Hell yes, sweetheart. Everything you wore made me so hard. You made me so fucking hard. Made me want to rip those skimpy outfits off of you with my teeth.”

“I wish you did. Wish you were here to do that right now.” You look down and see your tits, having spilled over the band of your bra, bouncing while both of your hands are stuffed in your panties, and you visualize looking down past your feet and seeing Frankie’s gaze upon you with his big dick in his meaty hand, “Stroke yourself for me, daddy.”

“Stroking my cock right now, imagining what it would feel like in your tight little pussy, Shortcake.” His hands glide over his length, throbbing just from thinking about the way you’re stretching out your cunt so that you can take him.

“Wanna feel your thick cock in my pussy, Francisco. Can’t wait for you to ruin me.”

“Going to wreck that little hole of yours, hermosa.”

“Need you so bad, daddy. Can you hear how wet you’re making me? I’m going to come so soon.” The wet sounds of your fingers pumping in and out of your pussy fill your bedroom - an obscene percussive beat to the song of your moans and cries; your arousal leaking down your ass and making a mess of your sheets underneath. Frankie can hear it all and your whorish symphony urges him thrust into his fist faster to keep up.

“Keep rubbing that clit for me, Shortcake.”

“Wish I could see you, baby. Wish I could see what your pretty face looks like right now, imagining my fingers curling deep inside that sweet pussy.”

“Can’t wait until you give me that dripping wet cunt and I show you what I want do to you.”

“Please!! Francisco. I’m close! Tell me what you want to do to me.”

“I’m going to lick your clit until it’s swollen and puffy then I’m going to suck and nibble it with my teeth until you push my head away.”

“Gonna pound into that pretty pussy until your walls are stretched and bruised.”

“You won’t be able to breath. I’ll punch every breath out of your lungs.”

“I’m going to fuck you until you scream that this is my pussy.”

“My pussy.”

“To fuck.”

“To ruin.”

“To wreck so no other man will ever be able to fill you the way I do.”

“Fuck you the way that I do.”

“Fuck you stupid like I do.”

“Fuck you until you don’t know your own name.”

“Fuck you until you’re just a cock drunk slut who isn’t good for anything other cock.”

“My cock.”

“Frankieeee! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…. Frankie I’m coming…. I’m coming, daddy, I’m coming!” You seize and cry out to his name, chanting it over and over like a prayer as your orgasm overtakes all your limbs and you arch off your bed, practically pushing out your fingers from how hard you’re clenching down.

“Ohhhh fuck, hermosa.” Frankie’s grunts are followed by heavy panting, his uneven breaths as he comes down from his high like music to your ears.

“Daddy, I came so hard.” You giggle as you wipe your cum covered fingers on your stomach.

“Me too, Shortcake.” You can hear him grinning through the receiver.

“Really? I made you feel good, Frankie?” You wish so much that he was next to you right now.

“Always, baby. You always make me feel good. The best.”

“Good. You made me ruin my sheets.”

“And I made you scream my name.”

“Just like you promised.”

“I always keep my promises, Shortcake.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I promise I’m always going to take care of you, baby. Never letting you go again.”

“Oh, Frankie… how did I get so lucky?”

“I’m the lucky one, hermosa. My perfect woman, screaming my name while she comes. I’m living in a dream, I swear.”

“I always come so hard when it’s you, Frankie. But it’s never been like this.”

“Yeah? You touch yourself to the thought of me a lot?”

“Yes, daddy. Always you.”

“I think of you all the time too, hermosa. Always make such a mess, just like I did tonight.”

“If we were together right now, I would clean you up with my tongue.”

“Fuck… baby, you’re going to make me hard again.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Francisco.”

“That’s what I’m going to make sure of, Shortcake. You’re always going to have a good time with me. Going to make sure you come every time.”

“I believe you, daddy.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh. The moment I met you in that club, I knew you would make me feel so good with your hands. And your tongue. And your cock.”

“Jesus... Baby, what did I say? Don’t start what you can’t stop, because if you keep talking like that I’m going to be hard again really soon.”

“Well, I’m still sloppy and wet, daddy. Ready to scream your name again.”

“You’re a dream, Shortcake. I’m going to make sure you come harder than you ever have. Tonight, tomorrow, every day after.”

“Promise, Francisco?”

“Promise. And I don’t break my promises.”

“Ok, daddy. Show me what you got. Just remember, tomorrow is a school day, so we can’t be up too late.”

“I also don’t make promises I know I can’t keep, Shortcake. Now be a good girl and take off those messy panties.”

Epilogue

Tagging a few people who commented on Part 1 they were interested in Part 2 (thank you! 🥹): @aurorawritestoescape @magpiepills @pastelpinkflowerlife @southernbe @heareball

@mermaidxatxheart @nandan11 @mellymbee @jessthebaker @milla-frenchy

@littlemissoblivious @tuquoquebrute @inept-the-magnificent @posting-my-time

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