#triple frontier write-a-ton

[faretheeoscar]

Sparring sessions

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x Frankie Morales for the @triplefrontier-anniversary

Cowritten with: @mandodinstuff

--Warnings: 🔥18+, nsfw, cursing, Spanish dirty talking, degrading kink if you squint your eyes disguised as Spanish dirty talking (totally consensual) Spanish phrases and definitions at the end--

A/N: English is not our first language, we apologize for any syntax/grammar errors.

Thanks to @mandodinstuff again for turning the idea of this fic upside down and helping me with brilliant takes on the way Santiago and Frankie would act, I absolutely love working with you ❤️

And thanks to @romanarose and @for-a-longlongtime for creating this brilliant event!

Word count: 2k~

Thursday afternoon, the usual day when Frankie and Santiago would find themselves some time to hang around each other without the other guys swarming around them, a time where they actually enjoyed spending time with each other, how could they not? They were best friends after all, they always found an activity to do together, but they tended to jump from one to another, lately Frankie had been feeling a bit insecure of the weight that he had been putting over the years, as they weren’t getting any younger and it wasn’t easy to get around that topic past your 40’s.

That’s how they have found themselves into another session of sparring, an activity that somehow Fish could handle without being so hard on his back for some reason, or maybe that’s what he told himself, just another excuse to tease Pope into how he always brought the most ridiculous tight fits he could find of sportswear, Frankie swore he was doing it on purpose, to try to make him weak against him, to try to reach into that unexplored part of their friendship that the two of them never spoke about, but Frankie was always very composed about it, trying to hold himself back from Santiago’s subtle approaches, although he sometimes indulged in them and got a bit too far with the teasing, and today seeing Pope in that tight white shirt and grey shorts, well it really got him going in that department.

Santiago has been having enough of Frankie’s teasing for the last 40 minutes, the way Frankie has been looking at him and the fact that for some goddamn reason every time he threw a punch at him, he aimed for his crotch to then stop shortly was honestly driving him mad by the second. The way the perfect little messy curls that bounced against his forehead and that signature small shy smile that Fish always did have him already half hard underneath his tight gym shorts.

“Stop teasing Francisco, if you really wanna touch it and wanna be my little bottom bitch, just go for it” He said with a smug smile, tapping the side of his crotch just to get a reaction out of him.

Something changed inside of Frankie suddenly and all he wanted was to wipe that stupid smug smile from Santi´s face. Without saying a word, he moved quickly grabbing Santi´s arm, twisting it backwards and making him lose balance with his leg so he ended up falling into the mat groaning at the strong grip he had on his arm. Frankie had him now pinned against the mat. Santi tried to get free from Frankie, squirming around trying to get him off of him, the position they were in gave Frankie a great view of Santi´s ass, making him a bit distracted and losing for a second his grip on him. Santi noticed it and used his friend's distraction to get free, but not for long because when Frankie noticed he pushed him back against the mat for him to be laying on his back panting as Frankie pinned both his hands over his head, Frankie's strong thighs straggled between his legs. 

——

“Surrender already Pope…”

Santiago grunted trying to get out of Frankie’s tight grip on him, as he pressed his body against the mat, as he tried to squirm around from his grip, he accidentally ended up grinding against Frankie’s leg, sending shivers down their spine and making them both try to hold back a moan. 

“Fucking shit Pope, stop squirming around, or I swear to god if you move again one more time…”

Frankie’s voice was three octaves lower than usual, making Santiago's stomach churn, sending shivers all down his spine. He could feel the familiar sensation of the heat going down to his crotch. Frankie’s deep voice made his hole clench in need around nothing.

Santiago couldn’t hold it anymore, Fish’s tight grip on his wrists, the friction and the whole sexual tension, the situation they always had around, had him acting without thinking. He leaned upwards to capture Frankie’s lips in a hot steamy kiss, it wasn’t the first time they’ve done it, neither of them tended to acknowledge it, it was an unspoken thing between the two of them, Santiago’s pride being too much to admit that he was mad for this man, how he craved the sweet taste of his lips. He moaned in need when their tongues started battling into a fight for possessiveness.

Everything quickly became a frenzy between the two of them, as they both started touching each other palming themselves over their clothes, Frankie reaching to squish Santi’s ass lifting up his hips so he could grind his hardening cock against his own.

As they were grinding against each other, Frankie's hand moved past the curve of Santi´s ass sliding his shorts down, groaning when he realised he wasn't wearing any underwear. 

“Cabrón, que haces?” Santiago tried to argue, but Frankie quickly turned him around, so his tummy could be against the mattress and lifted his hips so he could put him in position, Santi´s naked ass on display just for him. 

“What do you think, pendejo? I’m not eating your sweaty ass, shut up, and open…” Frankie pushed two of his fingers against Santi´s lips, forcing him to open his mouth wetting them with his saliva, making sure it was enough so he could prep him.

“This would have to do” Frankie slowly pressed one of his fingers against Santi’s hole and started working him open, earning choked grunts as Santi made fists with his hands as he tried not to push back to reach for more pleasure.

Frankie’s digits slowly tried to reach for his prostate, massaging and listening to when Santiago’s breath changed, to have it as a hearing aid for him to know when to add another finger inside; when he felt Santi easily open up at the new intrusion as both of his fingers started working him up, Santiago started shaking and holding back his moans.

“Puta madre Fish… stop teasing” Santiago growled.

“Calmate, I’m just trying for you not to get hur–” Frankie tried to speak but as he felt Santiago's ass pushing back against his hand silently asking for more, he knew that he was ready.

Frankie sloppily worked his pants down just enough to let his cock, already leaking with precum, spring out of his boxers and started touching himself.

“Mierda Fish you're HUGE you're going to kill me with that” Santi said looking over his shoulder as Frankie kept stroking his cock.

“Alright, alright, okay, stop whining Garcia, jesus no puedes callarte ni por un puto segundo”

Frankie slowly pushed the head of his cock inside Santiago, as he huffed out at the feeling of his bulbous head disappearing inside Pope’s tight ring, trying to keep an eye on every reaction that the barely prepped man had, controlling his own need to push himself inside fully. Santiago’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he held his breath when trying to adjust to Fish’s length.

——

“Dios Pope, I’ve never been inside a hole so—nhg—tell me, do you get all– tight and so needy for me every time we see each other?” Frankie grunted between slow thrusts.

“Seguro que te encanta que te den así, por detrás, fuck– been dreaming about making this ass mine for a long time” He started fastening his pace when he felt Santiago’s hips pushing back against him asking for more.

Santiago almost couldn’t handle it anymore, Frankie’s words and possessiveness and dominance were totally different and out of character with him, Frankie usually is a cuddly sweet teddy bear, he was soft in all the senses of the word, soft voice, soft words, soft tummy. And god that soft tummy that drove Santiago crazy that made him harder at the thought of it, and now that he had him there, feeling how his soft flesh bounced against the curve of his ass… everything was sending him into a spiral, the drag of the tip of his cock against his G spot had him almost whimpering, but he held it, he was too proud to get himself go into a submissive mode.

Santiago was close to exploding, but he was holding it, he reached out for his aching cock stroking it once earning the most guttural moan that Frankie has ever heard from him. Santiago tried to stroke himself, but everything was getting too much for him, his hands were shaking, breath faltering, back arching in a way where Frankie could take his hips and pulled them impossibly closer, watching how his cock disappeared into his tight ring, Santi’s big ass bouncing against cock; he watched and felt how his tight ring muscle started pulsating and getting tighter and tighter against him.

“Mierda—mierda Pope, if you keep on going like this I'm not gonna last” Frankie huffed against his ear, thrusts faltering against him, as he felt the urge of his impending orgasm coming.

Frankie’s grunts started to get louder as he pounded relentlessly against him, reaching for Santiago and putting his arm around his middle to pull him up, so his back was flushed against his chest, he spit on his own hand and reached out for Santi’s throbbing member, slapping Santi’s hand out of the way so he could also get in charge of stroking his cock fast, alternating the drags on his member and rubbing his thumb against Santiago’s tip, earning needy whimpers from him with his edging game.

“What a pretty good fucking boy, look at you, taking me so well and whimpering like a little bitch” Frankie grunted in his ear as his hand moved from Santi´s hip to his neck. 

——

“Fuck if I knew that having my cock deep inside you would finally shut you up, I would have done it years ago”

With Frankie’s hard grip against his neck and another hand trying to hold him up against him, mixed with that degrading phrase did it for Pope, turning into a full submissive mode, gasping for air as Frankie’s grip tightened on his neck, it would take only a couple of more thrusts before Santiago was drooling all over himself, when he felt the constant assault of Frankie’s tip against his textured spot, his hole pulsated hard against Frankie’s length and a choked breath finally made him spill all over himself.

“There you go. Te ves tan hermoso cumming untouched just from my cock” 

——-

Frankie soon enough followed him, spilling ropes after ropes of cum inside him, filling his hole until it started to drip from the sides.

Frankie’s thrusts calmed down, and he kept himself inside him, resting his sweaty forehead against Santiago’s back, trying to get the adrenaline out of his system completely.

“So remind me who was the little bottom bitch here?” 

“Fuck you, que te jodan” Santiago panted and chuckled, trying to get off from him to be able to go wipe his soft abdomen that was painted on his own white thick streams, but Frankie’s strong grip put him right back onto his lap, possessive hands squeezing his hips, definitely leaving marks on them.

“Fuck me?” He teased him and growled next to his ear, nipping at the bottom of his earlobe, Santiago could already feel him hardening again inside him. “I think I would really like that”

Little there is to say how their training sessions would develop from now on...

Dictionary/definitions:

“Cabrón, que haces?” : motherfucker what are you doing?

jesus no puedes callarte ni por un puto segundo : jesus, you can't stop talking for a single fucking second

pendejo: imbecil

Puta madre: spanish insult haha also like fuck (?)

Calmate: calm down

Seguro que te encanta que te den así, por detrás: I bet that you like getting pounded from behind

Mierda : shit

Te ves tan hermoso: you look so beautiful

que te jodan: another way to say fuck you

Reblogs and comments are kindly appreciated!

Main Masterlist

Fics Masterlist

[wasitforrevenge]

hi welcome to my blog :)

this blog is 18+! please don’t follow if you are underage thank you! this is a safe space! AND FREE PALESTINE!

hi my name is love, im 21 & bi as fuck! my pronouns are she/her and i live and breathe the last of us game & the show. ellie williams has my heart 🫶🏼 i just finished my 13th playthru on my new ps5 and my 6th rewatch of the the show!i made this account because i love this show and much other media and would love to share my thoughts and shit about it so here we are!

i love apacolyse media (shout out twd for carrying my childhood ) anyways i love reading on here and would love to try my hand at writing as a creative outlet. i am excited to see what i come up with!

right now i plan to write mainly for the last of us characters but i am intresed in writing for many other series and movies! i love all these shows below and would love to write for those characters when i have the time or ideas! including but not limited to:

the walking dead, game of thrones, house of dragons, daredevil, the punisher, supernatural, the bear, shameless, sons of anarchy, marvel, wentworth, the hunger games, triple frontier, the amazing spider-man, the 100, american assassin, the vampire diaries, the originals! + tons more!

anyways you love the last of us like me pls repost/like or follow so we can be mutuals! i cant wait to post my first story!

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

I watched Society of the snow yesterday and it is a great film, extremely respectful to the victims and survivors, the crashing scene will be engraved in my brain forever, the actors were exceptional.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about triple frontier cos of the Pedro brain rot. I just repeated non stop in my brain

“We cannot fly over the fucking Andes, man”

I mean this is a very documented and well known plane wreck, how the fuck they thought they could fly tons of money over the fucking Andes and be alright is beyond me and then donate EVERY DIME, I will never be over how stupid that is. Anyhow I will continue to watch the movie till the end of times just for Pedro’s performance and those tight jeans Oscar Isaac wears just to refresh my obsession from time to time so it is even more delicious to spend hours on here reading fics better written than any published novel I’ve read in a long time.

To end this weird post:

Watch society of the snow for a good film watched triple frontier for the reasons above

Avoid flying over the Andes

Continue to write those amazing fics and if you haven’t started go for it

[mariacallous]

Not even the Arctic Ocean is immune to the incessant growth of microplastic pollution. In a new study that analyzed sediment core samples, researchers quantified how many of the particles have been deposited since the early 1930s. As scientists have shown elsewhere, the team found that microplastic contamination in the Arctic has been growing exponentially and in lockstep with the growth of plastic production—which is now up to a trillion pounds a year, with the global amount of plastic waste projected to triple by 2060.

These researchers analyzed the seawater and sediment in the western part of the Arctic Ocean, which makes up 13 percent of its total area. But in just that region, they calculated that 210,000 metric tons of microplastic, or 463 million pounds, have accumulated in the water, sea ice, and sediment layers that have built up since the 1930s. In their study, published last week in the journal Science Advances, they cataloged 19 synthetic polymer types in three forms: fragments, fibers, and sheets. That reflects a dizzying array of microplastic sources, including fragments from broken bottles and bags and microfibers from synthetic clothing.

Overall, the team found that microplastic levels have been doubling in Arctic Ocean sediments every 23 years. That mirrors a previous study of ocean sediments off the coast of Southern California, which found concentrations to be doubling every 15 years. Other researchers have found an exponential rise in contamination in urban lake sediments. 

The problem is likely to keep getting worse, lead author Seung-Kyu Kim, a marine scientist at Incheon National University, told WIRED by email. “The input of microplastics into the Arctic has increased exponentially over the past decades, with an annual increase rate of 3 percent,” Kim writes. “The mass production of plastic at an 8.4 percent annual increase—coupled with inefficient waste management systems—is projected to further increase loads of plastic entering the ocean for the next several decades, and thus plastic entering the Arctic will increase proportionally.”

The atmosphere, too, is increasingly infested with microplastics. By one calculation, the equivalent of hundreds of millions of disintegrated plastic bottles could be falling on the United States alone. A study of a peatland area in the Pyrenees found that in the 1960s, less than five atmospheric microplastics were being deposited per square meter of land each day. It’s now more like 180. 

This new Arctic paper “helps to show that any increase in production is matched in the environment,” says Steve Allen, a microplastics researcher at the Ocean Frontiers Institute who did the peatland study. “And as more research into human exposure comes to light, I believe the increase will also be shown in human bodies.”

Microplastics are readily moving between different environments. A previous study found 14,000 microplastics per liter of Arctic snow, the stuff having blown in from European cities. Microplastics are also arriving in the Arctic by sea: When you wash your clothes, hundreds of thousands—or even millions—of synthetic fibers break off and flush into a wastewater treatment facility, then eventually to the ocean. Currents then transport microplastics up into the Arctic, where they swirl around and eventually settle in the sediment. Allen and other scientists reported in May that a single recycling facility might emit 3 million pounds of microplastics a year—and those were numbers for a brand-new plant that filtered its runoff water. 

Interestingly, this new study found higher levels of microplastics around the retreat line of summer sea ice. This may be due to a biological highway of sorts. The algae Melosira arctica grows on the underside of Arctic sea ice, providing food for organisms like zooplankton. When that ice melts, the algae sinks to the seafloor, taking all those synthetic particles with it. “These clumps sink much more rapidly to the seafloor than other particles, within a day,” says marine biologist Melanie Bergmann of the Alfred Wegener Institute in Germany, who recently reported finding 31,000 microplastics per cubic meter of this algae in the Arctic Ocean. “This could also explain why this [sediment] study, similar to our results from earlier studies, found the highest microplastic burden in the area with high melting rates.” 

Bergmann has also found that Arctic sea ice itself is loaded with 4.5 million microplastics per cubic meter. When it melts, the particles are liberated to swirl around in the water column, perhaps sinking to the seafloor. Once the sea ice freezes again, it “scavenges” microplastics from the water by collecting them into the new ice.

The cycling of microplastics through the Arctic Ocean may ultimately affect the food chain: The zooplankton that feed on Melosira arctica algae are eating the particles, and when the microplastics sink to the seafloor, bottom-dwelling creatures eat them too. Filling up on plastics, instead of actual nutrition, is a problem scientists call “food dilution.” “This could affect especially invertebrates like sea cucumbers, brittlestars, and worms that plough through and ingest these contaminated sediments all the time,” says Bergmann.

This burden on ecosystems is why environmentalists and scientists are calling for the United Nations plastics treaty, which is currently in negotiations, to include a dramatic cap on production. In March, researchers provided hints that a cap could produce quick results: They found that although ocean microplastic levels have skyrocketed over the past 20 years, they actually fluctuated between 1990 and 2005—perhaps due to the effectiveness of a 1988 international agreement that limited plastic pollution from ships.

Kim writes that the new paper is another data point in favor of production limits: “This strongly supports the urgent need of globally concerted vigorous action to substantially reduce the plastic ocean input, and thus to protect the Arctic environment.”

[d0t-d0t]

read destiny unchain online

I've never used tumblr in any capacity before, but I feel like this is a good way to introduce myself to it - by simping for my favorite manga series as much as I possibly can.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, why read DUO? Because it's just that good. It's basically like Shangri-La Frontier, but if the MC wasn't a lone wolf.

The premise is simple: In the distant future, VR and AR have integrated their way into daily life, and VRMMOs have exploded in popularity. The main character, Mitsuki Kou, has grown up playing VRMMOs all of his life, and his dad works for a company that develops them. From no-lifing VR games for his entire childhood, Kou has basically become what you'd call a "god gamer", and so his dad uses him to playtest the VRMMOs he develops.

The story begins as Kou's dad finishes his magnum opus: Destiny Unchain Online. Kou is called in to playtest for the game. Normally, VRMMOs in this universe are played using a fancy choker (rather than the headsets you see in other series); however, Kou's dad developed a special device for Kou to play in just for him, called "The Cradle". Kou logs in, and after choosing to play as a half-vampire named "Crim" in character creation, he gets genderbent by the game. It's at this point that she freaks out and contacts her dad, who then hits her with the double whammy that because of so-called "technical issues", she'll be staying logged into the game for three months straight.

So, yeah. It's got VRMMO, vampires, and genderbending. A triple whammy, if you ask me. But, of course, the premise doesn't make the story. What else do I love about this manga then? (I'll stay vague in this post to give you all a chance to read it before I post more spoilery stuff...)

Character-wise, everyone is just brimming with personality. Volume 1 largely focuses on just Crim and some NPCs, but in Volume 2, most of the rest of the main cast is introduced, and the character writing really starts to shine with how they bounce off one another.

The VRMMO mechanics are also very well thought out - the author plays a ton of video games and MMOs, and so situations, references, and terminology are brought out from their personal experiences rather than just using VRMMO as a story gimmick they wanted to try writing.

The fights in particular are VERY well executed. The paneling gives a great sense of movement, and the group vs. group combat has a ton of tactical elements thrown in. Just, in general, everything is thought out absurdly well.

And art-wise, holy crap. Wow. This manga, for lack of a better word, is simply beautiful.

Double page spreads GALORE, and there's some crazy art in later chapters that make you think "How the hell is this released weekly?"

And finally, there's Crim. We stan Crim here. (there's another character we stan here too, but that's for another post). Crim is just a completely lovable dork with one of the best character designs I've ever seen.

10/10, best manga of all time. read destiny unchain online.

feel free to ask questions cause I know way too much about the lore, and follow for more crimposting about DUO

[616wilsons]

hey everyone! i’m going to get into fanfic writing (finally) so i thought i would introduce myself and my fandoms <3 my inbox is always open too!

FANDOMS:

— MARVEL

— BATMAN

— SUCCESSION

— NARCOS

— TRIPLE FRONTIER

— CRIMINAL MINDS

+ there is a TON more but these are the ones i’m considering writing for (at first)

CHARACTERS:

— STEWY HOSSEINI

— HORACIO CARRILLO

— JAVIER PEÑA

— SANTIAGO GARCIA

— FRANCISCO MORLAES

— AARON HOTCHNER

— LUKE ALVEZ

— MATT MURDOCK

— JOEL MILLER

+ many more!

here’s a little bit about me! (if anyone cares lol)

— i’m turning 21 in two weeks 😳

— i’ve been interested in writing since i was like 13

— i’m an actress and aspiring screenwriter/director

— i’m bisexual, desi, AFAB, and my pronouns are she/they :)

uhhh idk how all this really works but if y’all have any requests or suggestions pls let me know! i’m having trouble getting started with posting my fics so any advice is also appreciated!

here’s all my links/other socials! https://616hotchners.carrd.co/?fbclid=PAAabq9FGCrUSXhm0NjpVW9y4whkkK32H4ZV1CwJCgHaUq9OhZwpydZeiyYic

xoxo, aishani

[prolix-yuy]

Hey, I’m LJ!

Welcome to my space! I’m a writer, fanfic enthusiast, and lover of all things creative. My stories are mostly set in the Pedro Pascal Cinematic Universe. I reblog a TON of fanfic, and if you’re stopping by on Tuesday or Friday evenings I try to post stories of my own!

I share and write 18+ content, so minors please do not follow or interact. Blogs that do not have an age or age range listed in your blog header or a pinned post will be blocked.

If you enjoy the stories you find here, a comment or reblog is appreciated! I love chatting with readers and writers, old and new, sharing theories, thirsting over fictional men, and generally having a silly time in the fandom.

Have fun, drop me a line if you like what you find, and happy reading!

Taglist | AO3 | Fic Recs

Masterlist:

The Mandalorian

Triple Frontier

The Bubble

Kingsman: The Golden Circle

The Great Wall

Bloodsucking Bastards

The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent

Prospect

Narcos

Game of Thrones

Wonder Woman 1984

The Last of Us

Writers' Iron Chef Challenges

500 Follower Celebration

LJ's Bangathon 2023

Bangathon 2024 (Multi-Author)

Frequently used tags:

#lovely reader! #lovely mutual! - comment/reblog responses

#prolix fic rec - reblogs of fics I’m reading

#prolix fics - my writing

#prolix wips - news about fics in progress and upcoming

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied, reposted or translated (without my knowledge). If you would like to create a fan work or use a character of mine, shoot me a message - I’d love to hear from you!

[myfaveficrecs]

Creator Spotlight

@wildbornsiren has a masterlist to die for. Tons of stuff to read from Top Gun, Outer Range, Miles Miller, DC Characters, and Triple Frontier. There is literally something for everyone. Head on over and show her some love.

A Little Q & A

1: What is your favorite thing you've written or made?  The Game -- A Bradley/Reader/Jake series. Bradley lost a game of pool, betting Jake a night with you. Things evolve and go from there, finding the three of you in a relationship. Lucky Piece Jake/Reader. This is actually the first thing I've written for the fandom, and it's ending soon. You’ve known Jake “Hangman” Seresin for years. He gets called up,and asks if you’d come with him. Throwing caution into the wind you join him as he trains for a special mission; all the while figuring out how much you really mean to each other. And Delicate Bob/Rooster. A love story and neither of them realize it. It's really really hard for me to pick just once, so forgive me for picking three. There's a few things that I'm really proud of/happy with, and these were the first three that came to mind.

2: Top 3 favorite creators you want people to check out?  @jakeseresins​ , Em is an incredible writer. Their work is one that I immediately drop everything to read. They create with so much passion that the love seeps into every word. Their FloydSereShaw is top notch! I highly recommend Feathers and The Fragile Season. @roleycoleyreccenter Their House We Share series is top tier. Their writing is so immersive, so good. I am in absolute awe of their ability to spin creative, captivating stories. I get so caught up in their stories that everything else slips away. @hederasgarden is one of the first person I've read in fandom. Her work is beautiful, emotional and just incredible. I love how she writes Jake. Her series Friendly Competition is one that I come back to often.

3: An idea you have for a future work that people should look out for?  Finishing up some series! Lucky Piece, Magnetism, and Rise & Shine are all getting finished here in the next couple weeks. As well as The Deconstruction of Hangman. I've got lots of things on deck--I just need to sit down and write them. I've got a Floydsin Hanahaki fic, Bradley reuniting with the girl who got away, and an assassin AU.

@roosterscock​

@roosterforme​

@bradshawsbitch​

@jupitercomet​

@seresinhangmanjake​

@fandomxpreferences​  

@wildbornsiren​  

@babyrooster​

@ohtobeleah​

@callsign-marlie​

@callsign-milano​

@oncasette​

@topguncortez​

@topgun-imagines​

@roleycoleyreccenter​  

@call-sign-shark​  

@cherrycola27​

@thedroneranger​

@notroosterbradshaw​

@almostgenerallyalways​

@roosterbruiser​

@teacupsandtopgun​

@endofdays56​

[hotdamnhunnam]

Frontier of Anarchy – Chapter 6 –

Pairings: Jax Teller x OC || Will Miller x OC

Rating: M (swearing, sexual content, violence)

Summary: Two brothers separated at birth... bound by one woman they both love to death. This SoA / Triple Frontier crossover series alternates between the Charming high school love story of Jax Teller and Aera Lee, and Aera’s encounter with a face all too familiar—Will Miller—years later in New York City. When Jax learns that he has a twin brother... he sets out across the country with no clue that he might find him in the arms of Jax’s ex-lover. The love that he never got over.

In the FoA playlist, the three scenes of this chapter correspond to songs 16-18 – “Use Somebody” // “Writing’s on the Wall” // “Together”

Link to Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist

____________________

Chapter 6

🎵 Song 16 from the FoA playlist:      “Use Somebody” by Laura Jansen

New York, New York || 2014

Nights like these Aera feels like she honestly hates everyone.

Of course that isn’t actually true, but within the confines of this corporate law firm she hates quite a few. Would’ve bailed long ago from this sorry excuse for an elegant little soirée if it weren’t her own farewell reception.

Reminds herself of that as she suffers through small talk and being the center of so much unwanted attention. Reminds herself she finally quit and now she’s truly good and done.

But at this event for just a little while, she still has to force a smile, and fight the urge to punch people who ask insulting questions.

For instance the colleague who likes to shade Aera at every chance she gets, because she holds a grudge of jealousy for being less accomplished during law school and she wants Aera to feel the shame of not being engaged or married yet. Arrives with her conventionally handsome and obscenely wealthy husband from some high-society Manhattan family hanging on her arm like he’s a badge of her success though truthfully he’s the most boring person Aera’s ever met.

Every word off her lips drips with the sentiment it’s so sad that you couldn’t balance the demands of this job with the joy of becoming a mother and wife. She’s a real fucking twat. “I can only imagine you’ve been keeping yourself so busy that you’ve lost the chance to develop your personal life. Now that you’ve quit law are you going to be focusing on that?”

Aera pauses and smiles like everything’s fine. Slowly sips at her wine. 

There are so many things wrong with what was just said—‘keeping yourself so busy’ as if Aera Lee created her own misery by scrambling around unnecessarily and imposing fake deadlines in her head—‘lost the chance’ as if a woman’s mid-thirties are the last possible window for romance—‘develop your personal life’ as if Aera’s life outside of work must be tragically underdeveloped simply because she’s still single with no family plans. Even ‘quit law’ when Aera has made it abundantly clear, to her Noble Stine peers, that her future may still involve some sort of legal career. Just won’t be pursuing it here.

Whatever this bitch hopes to get out of asking a question like this, Aera won’t grant whatever her wish is. She’s leaving this firm for the very last time by the end of the night. Until tonight she might’ve tiptoed just a little to be civil and polite, but now she can be honest and that’s really quite alright. She’s fucking finished.

The probing question ‘are you going to be focusing on that?’ is fast dismissed.

Aera just raises her rosé, with just one final thing to say. She doesn’t care what other lawyers in the room are standing close enough to witness. “I am going to be focusing on minding my own motherfucking business.”

And it’s absolutely true, because her plan is to sort through all her emotions and her issues, as she figures out long-term what she should do. And there’s a shit ton to sort through.

It’s hard to sort through when that shit ton—with whom Aera is so absolutely smitten—happens to have hair of Colorado gold and eyes of pure soul-crushing blue.

For now their plan is just to hang out whenever they want to, which has been pretty much every day this week but to keep things ‘chill’ for a while. Taking things slow when it comes to anything that matters in his life has always been Will’s style. It’s clear to him that he reminds her of an old flame she can’t help but still cling onto, though the spark she feels with him is something new. He respects that and assures her they don’t have to talk about her ex or anybody else until it’s something she sincerely wants to do.

She’s really grateful for the space he freely gives her. For the patience he has with her. Most nights Aera feels like such a fucking mess, but when she’s with Will Miller... she feels so un-judged and understood that she slowly begins to understand herself better and judge herself a little less.

She knows she has to tell him all about her past, sooner or later if there’s any chance for them to take things farther. But for now she wants this lighter phase to last. And she’s decided it’s important that she gets to know Will better to make sure the memory of Jax isn’t the reason why she’s come to feel so much for him so fast. If she explores a shot at more with him before her doubts have passed, that’ll only make everything harder.

What becomes clearer with the passing days, is Aera’s hope that Will can stay here in New York and be a part of her life always—whether that’s just as a friend or as a partner.

For so long, she’s prided herself on feeling strong, and self-sufficient on her own. She’s had support from friends and family so she’s never been alone, but on some level she’s felt that way, at the end of every day, with just the lost love from her past stuck on replay. And though it used to be a source of emptiness and sadness when she was young... by now she’s grown, and feels that she can genuinely say, that if she’s single all her life she’ll be okay. No man she ever met lasted beyond a few dates anyway. But when it comes to Will she’s living for the moments when they meet or when a random text from him lights up her phone. He’s unlike anyone she’s ever fucking known.

He’s been to war and back. He’s suffered deep personal loss that nearly made him fucking crack. And through it all somehow his heart is still so steady—firmly centered and so calm, its beat so comforting and warm. Will knows what matters to him most, and holds it close because he’s lost so much already. Being with him makes her realize more than ever that her heart has been so closed, lost in the shadow of a ghost, but in his presence opens up a little bit because it’s ready.

And it’s his blue gaze that sweeps across her mind’s eye, every damn night when she flops down into bed with a big sigh. She wants him so bad she could die. For eighteen years the blue was Jax’s, and it’d carried her through sweet dreams soaring higher than the sky… But it’s a different shade of blue now when she sinks into the mattress—different angle to the world as it reorients its axis—pulling her into an ocean where new hopes and dreams of love happily lie.

On Saturday morning they meet for a quick breakfast at a bagel shop nearby. She gets a honey wheat bagel with extra blueberry cream cheese, and Will playfully grimaces ‘cause it’s a running joke between them that he can’t understand why she likes dessert for breakfast whereas he prefers a bagel sandwich stuffed with eggs and meat and dripping bacon grease. “That’s basically blueberry pie.”

Her bagel actually tastes even more delicious at the thought. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing but I promise you it’s not. You wanna try?”

She wags the partly eaten blueberry concoction in his face, and he recoils in distaste. Will does love sweets as Aera was delighted to discover when she first took him to LoveLee’s and he ate up the whole place, but he’s just not a sweets-for-breakfast kind of guy.

When he stands and steps away to grab some napkins she picks up a jar of honey from the table, menacingly opening it right over his bagel, and he makes a face as if he’s so disgusted he could cry.

They’re really quite mature—constantly picking on each other, every so often both bursting out in laughter. Maybe they’re too old for this shit, but that doesn’t really matter. In the middle of a giggle fit, Aera looks up and just happens to recognize a couple standing in the line that’s queued close by.

She mutters quietly at Will and gestures subtly at the space over his shoulder since they’re not exactly in his line of sight. “Don’t look behind you now but that’s the couple from last night.”

He gets the reference to the bitch who had audaciously asked Aera whether she was ‘going to be focusing on that.’ “You mean the piece of shit twat and her arm candy aristocrat? They better not come over here unless they wanna start a fight.”

Right about now Aera does not want to be witnessed. “I’m trying to avoid catching her eye, ‘cause if she sees me with a drop-dead gorgeous guy, she’ll die of jealousy and curiosity and be like ‘ohhh who is this?!??!’...”

Will blushes slightly at her mention of his gorgeousness. “Well you should tell her to mind her business.”

“She won’t be able to when she sees that my man candy is so much more delicious.”

With a confident little twinkle in his eye, he doesn’t even try to wipe the smirk off of his jaw. “Man candy huh…? If this is a man candy contest maybe I should just rip off my shirt and then the competition will get vicious.”

“Oh my God do not tempt me...” Aera is suddenly all hot just at the thought of Will half-naked and she knows the sight would be painfully pretty. “I’m here trying to mind my business rather than flaunting your beauty to the enemy. That’s just petty, and besides it’s not as if we’re going steady.”

“Who says we can’t pretend to be, just to piss off the enemy?”

She shakes her head, and though she knows he’s joking she’s a little bit distracted. He’s so motherfucking handsome. Sometimes when she looks at him she finds herself incapable of thinking anything but yum. “That’s... um...”

“Really childish and dumb?”

“Yeah and then some.”

“Well that won’t stop me if that twat decides to come.”

“They’re leaving anyway,” she tells him as she sees the stuffy couple grab their coffee and head home. “I guess you’ll have to save the man candy show for another day.” And when he does put all his muscles on display, Aera is sure she’ll be the one who’s bound to come.

Sitting and chatting in this bakery café, where what was meant to be a speedy little breakfast quickly turns to half the day, she finds the only thing that’s stronger than the lust she feels towards him... is how deeply she adores him.

It’s a problem, as she gets closer and closer to the feeling that her future is inevitably going to involve him. That with every passing day she’s thinking less and less of Jax and more of him. That someday—maybe not too faraway—she just might fucking love him. ********************

🎵 Song 17 from the FoA playlist:      “Writing’s on the Wall” by Sam Smith

Charming, California || 1996

It’s way too soon to call this love after two dates. But Jax already feels like being with this girl gives him a glimpse of something brighter than the pearly fucking gates. Heaven is here and he’s not coming back to earth now that he’s had a fucking taste; every damn moment spent without her is a waste.

He’s seeing her later today, but he’s alone now in his bedroom after breakfast on this lovely sunny Sunday scrawling nonsense in his diary, about the girl who makes him feel so fiery, when his mother pokes her head in through the doorway. She can sense that he’s engrossed so she knocks quietly, though quiet isn’t usually her way. Most of the time the whole town knows when Gemma has something to say.

“Somebody’s here to see you.”

Jax stops scribbling mid-sentence, mildly startled at his mother’s presence. Paying an unexpected visit to the Teller-Morrow household doesn’t seem like something Aera Lee would do. If it’s not her then he’s not sure who’s passing through. “Who?”

“The Dalton bitch,” Gemma mutters under her breath so Clay won’t hear, because he’s made it very clear, that he’s not pleased when anyone insults a relative of Rich.

Surprise surprise. Jax slams his pen down on his desk and rolls his eyes. What goddamn business does Jess think she has, showing up at his fucking door? She’s been desperately begging for attention ever since he ditched her ass, and he can’t take it anymore. “That fucking whore...”

“You’re a whore too, you know,” Gemma playfully scolds as he heads down the stairs though she’s noticed a definite shift in the past day or two. “Or at least were until just a few days ago.”

That’s a comment that Jax just decides to ignore, as he goes to meet Jess at the door.

He steps outside and stands with her in the front yard, well aware that the whole neighborhood’s bound to hear if his tone with her escalates into a roar. He’ll try not to get too riled up but she pisses him off so damn much and it’s hard. His blood boils whenever he thinks about all the times she’s treated Aera so badly, as well as her family, whenever she’d stop by their store.

That insufferable platinum-haired pothead—Dash or whatever his name is—happens to be skateboarding by with his friends whistling lewdly as if Jax is going to take Jess to bed. The two of them really don’t want to indulge in whatever this idiot’s game is.

Jess shudders and rakes her fingers through her long auburn locks, as she watches that hideous scumbag skate off down the block. “So, I just wanted to talk.”

No, you want to hop back on my cock.

“I’ve been in a really bad place ever since our fling ended, and I’ve done some really bad things that I may have regretted.”

Jax can tell that she’s trying to come off as if she’s repented, but knows that’s not true. He doesn’t even have a clue yet of the worst thing that this bitch just went and did: the violent vandalism last night that the Dalton kids were up to. Shrugs and answers her although he doesn’t want to. “Yeah well I regret some of the shit I’ve done too. Mostly you.”

Words like that deal a wound, but some part of her swooned. He’s so brutal it just makes her want him back even more somehow. “I’m being serious right now.”

He shakes his head thinking this bitch is harder to remove than a tattoo. “Swear I am too.”

“But honestly,” she sighs for she refuses to believe he’s being honest as can be. Clings to his flannel-covered bicep desperately. She’s been all broken up especially since last night’s big discovery of this whole fucking pregnancy, and truly has no clue just what to do. “You know all those nights I made love to you, I opened up to you. Seriously—the side of me I let you see…” 

‘Made love’—is that some kind of joke?! The concept makes him want to choke. “The only thing you opened was your pussy.” 

Yet to her love’s what it was, or so it felt since his dick gave her such a buzz. And ever since she’s been denied the drug she lived for and still does, her world is all falling apart. “No but I gave you my whole heart—” 

“You don’t fucking have one for Christ’s sake!” he explosively yells, his sheer hate for her reaching new heights with each sick lie she tells. Dash and his friends are skating back around the block and Jax does not care if he shames this stuck-up cunt in front of everybody else. “Every damn thing about you is fake. Just ‘cause your daddy’s so filthy rich, you think you can look down on every other girl in town and strut around like some queen bitch. Every minute I spent with you was a mistake.”

The hoots of laughter down the street are more than Jess can even take, but all the noise in the vicinity... fades far into the background as each word from Jax’s mouth impales her like a fucking stake. How can a mouth so cruel still be so fucking pretty? He didn’t really mean that—did he…? But deep down she knows he did and starts to shake.

“Don’t pull this whole heartbroken act with me. You just feel shitty that you lost some of your dignity. But all you’re gonna get from me is pity. You don’t have a heart to break.”

He wants to spit in her pathetic little face but fights the urge. He’s on the motherfucking verge. Rather than heading back inside he quickly hops onto his bike and leaves her trembling in his wake.

Jax knows the loathing that he has for her is more than just skin deep. Wolf in the clothing of a sheep. For at the root of all this surface-level fury he pours onto her so ruthlessly, is his deep-seated hatred for the guy he used to be—he hates the side of him that’s weak and wrong and was so easily misguided all along, led into thinking bad behavior was what made him fierce and strong... he hates that spineless fucking asshole more than anybody truthfully. Just recently Jax Teller made himself a promise to be better but he’s not sure if it’s one that he can keep.

Deep in his bones he fears he’ll never put that side of him to sleep.

Across town Aera Lee is standing with her family on the sidewalk strewn with shards of shattered glass wishing the cost of being hated weren’t so steep.

The little market looks so broken she could weep.

Everything blurs. ‘Go back to China’ is spray-painted on the walls along with other racial slurs. Big bright red letters that the town can’t fucking miss. The wide front window is all cracked, the door knocked in and the interior ransacked. At times like this, just fucking being who she is feels like a curse.

She knows that for her mother and her grandfather this must be even worse. This is the living that they’ve made, here in this town where every day is lived a little bit afraid. They see themselves as her protectors—care for Aera as a precious little girl who shouldn’t have to face the constant fear of violence in this promising young life of hers.

By now she’s no longer that young. Her shoulders are still small but then again so are her mother’s. Doesn’t mean they can’t be strong. The war against hatred is long, but they’ll survive it if they lean on one another.

In the midst of all the wreckage words are muttered. Aera knows deep in her gut this was the doing of Jess Dalton and her brother.

Should we even call this in?

I’m pretty sure it was the Daltons.

White folks sitting in their mansions rarely ever pay the price for all their sins.

And even if the Daltons weren’t really involved, their influence over this whole town is so strong that the police and justice system wouldn’t see this type of violence as a problem to be solved. 

“They wouldn’t do a thing about it,” Aera says and doesn’t doubt it. In their eyes there’s nothing wrong with racist monsters using violence as an outlet. 

Her dark gaze keeps on returning to the letters on the storefront sprayed in streaks so stark and red, spelling the words forever scarred into her head.

But she urges her mom and grandpa to report it just for process and to prove that they won’t be spooked into silence. Since the offenders hadn’t bothered to disable the security cameras throughout the store, some of which have a view toward the front door, Aera offers to check the tapes so they can have some footage of the violence.

Minah just strokes her daughter’s hair and wishes she could make this whole mess go away. Knows Aera’s honest show of strength is her best way to hide her sorrow. As a mom she really hates when shit has gone so wrong it feels as if there’s no right thing to say. “Maybe tomorrow. Let’s just focus on repairing and recovering today.”

And so they do. Thankfully not everyone here in Charming is a racist pig so there are some who stop to help the Lees as they come passing through. But it’s dishearteningly few. Now that it seems no longer safe to get their groceries from here, most of them figure it’d be better to steer clear.

Meanwhile Aera dreads the moment Jax is scheduled to appear.

Like yesterday he plans to pick her up at three. She knows full well just how supportive he will be; it’s just not something that she wants for him to see. Not yet at least. They’ve been so happy and she wants to cling to that, but if Jax sets eyes on the scene she knows it’ll drive him fucking mad. He’ll surely pin it on the Daltons and release his inner beast. All fucking hell will be unleashed.

As much as it pains her to cancel what they’ve planned, she wants to stay here with her mom and Grandpa Chan until late night to lend a hand. She’s sure that Jax will understand. Maybe they’ll meet for dinner later but she hopes that he won’t have to see the damage here firsthand.

Neither of them has got a cell phone as some of the richer teenagers in town already do—in 1996 the trend of cool kids having cell phones is still relatively new—so landlines and in-person meetups are the only contact point between these two. Aera tries using the store phone to call the Teller-Morrow household as she figures it’s the only thing to do.

She guesses Gemma will pick up but unexpectedly it’s Clay.

Although she doesn’t know a lot about him, Jax has told her how he thinks he and his mom would probably have been better off if they had lived their lives without him. Doesn’t speak much of his stepdad ‘cause there’s really nothing positive to say.

Just from the gruff tone of his voice Aera is getting shitty vibes on this already shitty day.

She asks if she can speak to Jax and hopes the old man will just hand over the phone to his stepson and mind his business.

No such luck. Unsurprisingly Clay is controlling as fuck. “Who is this?”

“Friend of his.”

The phone line crackles with his bitterness at her attempt to stay anonymous. “He’s not around but if you give your name then I can take a message.”

Aera pauses for a second as she stares out at the wreckage. She’s not too hot on the thought of anything she has to say... being relayed to Jax through Clay. In fact she doubts he even cares about the message to convey. He probably just wants to keep tabs on his young stepson, making sure to stay on top of Jackson’s contacts and connections.

Speaking of Jackson—just now Aera hears the rumble of his ride, and sees him pulling up outside. She tells Clay never mind thanks and hangs up so she can rush over to greet Jax on the sidewalk. 

Blue eyes sky-wide, he looks horrified as fuck. Struck paralyzed with rage and shock.

He breathes her name like it’s a prayer, as she runs out to meet him there. Clings to her tiny fragile frame and gasps for air. Buries his face deep in the soft flowery fragrance of her hair. She means so much to him already after just a couple days—he wants to keep her safe from everything in this entire world today and always—he’s already failed and it’s not fucking fair.

“Are you alright?” he asks, unsteadily, when he at last pulls back. Reading the pain across her face and breaking open at the sight. They weren’t supposed to meet till three, but he was speeding by and just happened to see.

“Yeah thankfully. Nothing happened to me, or my family.”

“Nothing happened...” he repeats, shaking his head. Sucking in air between his teeth, feeding the fire that’s trapped in. It’s so intense the way he seethes. He’s seeing red. Whoever did this is as good as fucking dead.

She rests her hand upon his cheek and looks him softly in the eye. Here she’s the victim and yet he’s the one about to fucking cry. He’s so consumed with what he feels for her that he almost forgets about his hatred.

“I just meant that we weren’t here last night,” she quietly explains, smiling sadly to assure him that she’s really not belittling her pain. “Shit happened and we’re shaken up but nobody was hurt on site. I promise we’re alright.”

He tries to mirror back her smile with a heavy nod. Thank God. Then glances through the shattered window at the store because he knows this kind of damage doesn’t just sort itself out. “How can I help out?”

Aera’s heart warms and is a little bit surprised by that—the way he’s so focused on offering a hand right off the bat, helping the Lees pick up the pieces from this unforeseen disaster. Knew he would, because she knows his heart is good, but first things first she thought he’d ask her if they’d pinned down the attackers, so that he would have a target to go after. For a Son of Anarchy that’d be what matters.

On some level Jackson’s still that Son and all his rage still smolders. But his first order of business is to help her and her family ease the burden on their shoulders. That comes first and hatred is the second chapter.

He’s already pretty sure, that all this damage was the doing of Bryce Dalton and his spiteful little sister. Jax reminds himself he really isn’t one to punch a woman but nothing is gonna stop him from knocking the living daylights out of that big stupid bastard.

Struggles not to think about that as he focuses on helping to rebuild all that’s been shattered.

But come nightfall after he’s had a quick dinner with this girl that he so ardently adores, and hopes to never live without... as soon as he’s bid her goodnight, that seething fire in him roars, red hot and dark as it is bright. And hate is all that he can fucking think about.

By the moon’s quiet light, he sneaks onto the Daltons’ sprawling property, bypassing their whole million-dollar system of security, thanks to the special tips and passcodes Jess had given him back when she’d let the bad boy in her bedroom every night, so he could bang her fucking brains out.

Bryce Dalton’s private Sunday night ritual is to hide in his dad’s dozen-car garage, sit in a shiny silver Beemer or a Benz and stick his hand into his crotch, to jerk his tiny little dick when he thinks no one’s there to watch. Jess had once spilled her brother’s secret so Jax knows that he can find the piece of shit hiding out here without a doubt.

Sometimes the magazines Bryce brings are dedicated to men’s fitness, pages full of shirtless beefcakes but that’s none of Jax’s business, and he isn’t here to judge. Needless to say Bryce would be mortified if anyone should witness; it would definitely cut down his big-man-on-campus clout. 

So when a leather-clad intruder now appears in his garage—and holds a gun up to his temple threatening him not to budge—Bryce naturally reacts with a high-pitched panicky shout.

Jax doesn’t waste time. He could blow Bryce’s brains out right fucking now but in his mind, that punishment would be too kind, for such a heinous hateful crime. “Cut this shit out.”

Bryce has one hand still on his prick and with the other tries to shove his porn away. “Look man I’m not gay—” he spits out.

“That’s not what this is about.”

The barrel of the pistol presses deeper in his temple, and the touch of the cold metal makes him tremble. “Wh-what do you want money or something?”

Jax just scoffs, to think a sum of cash could pay his anger off. No sum would be enough to stop the threat that’s coming. “I want you to fucking know that you are nothing.”

The weapon in his hand is a revolver and he knows which chamber’s loaded. But of course Bryce doesn’t know it. As he speaks Jax pulls the trigger and his victim promptly starts pissing his pants, while Jax wields a camcorder in his other hand, recording this whole thing.

“Next time you hurt them I assure you, it will be the last damn thing you do,” Jax threatens as his finger pulls the trigger yet again to emphasize his words are true. “I swear I’ll fucking murder you.”

Bryce is still squealing like a pig as he recovers from the aftershock of not just one blank shot but two. Here comes shot number three, as he whimpers out nervously, some unintelligible mix of please don’t kill me holy shit I’m fucking sorry. The third pull of the trigger is still blank and yet the force of Jax’s words shoots him right through.

“I’m gonna share this video with others for security. You won’t have any clue exactly who,” Jax warns him menacingly. “The death of me won’t set you free. ‘Cause if you think of coming after me, they’ll post this footage publicly. For your filthy rich family and the whole damn town to see. Your two-inch dick and dirty little secret in full view.”

It’s generous to call it two.

“You understand?” Jax pulls the trigger yet again and makes the sobbing scumbag stare into the video recorder in his hand.

“Y-yeah I do.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“No I swear I understand!” Bryce’s grey eyes are wide with fear, uncharacteristically sincere, as he vows to meet Jax’s demands. “I swear I’ll leave the Lees alone—”

Jax pulls the trigger for a fifth time as Bryce realizes that he’s lost fucking count. Wasn’t that already the sixth and final round...? But somehow he can sense a presence in the chamber that’s up next and that shit chills him to the bone.

“Don’t you dare say her fucking name,” Jax scolds and holds the pistol closer to his victim’s empty brain to make it clear that this is not some kind of game. “There is a bullet in this gun. And the next time you even think about her I’ll make sure you eat the final one.”

He means it as he turns to leave because his business here is done.

From where she stumbles through the halls upstairs—desperate enough to set foot in her father’s study though she’s not sure if she dares—Jess Dalton has no clue that Jax was here and gone.

Right now her crippling sense of helplessness just totally consumes, as she raps her knuckles against the redwood door and shamefully enters the room.

There’s a small cut on her left cheek, a little scarlet trail of blood that starts to leak. She’d recently approached her mother with a serious confession and the woman was appalled to hear the words her teenage daughter dared to speak. The slap across the face was sharp since Mrs. Dalton got her nails done just this week.

She’d gone on a furious streak, calling her daughter shit like ‘stupid little slut’—which would sound hot to Jess if only it’d come out of Jax’s mouth given she’s such a kinky freak—but coming from her mom these words just sound so miserable and bleak. Don’t you have any fucking clue that this could ruin your whole future not to mention your physique? Mrs. Dalton had screamed and reached for a new bottle of prescription pills in search of that elusive picture-perfect normalcy that her place in society requires her to seek.

Jess rarely comes to her dad’s study voluntarily but times like this she doubts she has a choice. There’s some sick healing she derives from just the comfort of his voice. It’s deeply twisted up with something that’s the opposite of comforting and makes her flinch away, but Daddy always knows exactly what to say. And that’s what brings her here today.

He’s at his big fancy desk tending to business, but always has time for his princess.

“Your mother did this?” Rich asks as he strokes the tears off of her face with a touch that’s so tender it makes the girl twitch. “We both know that she’s a hysterical bitch. Let me get you a band-aid and give you a kiss.”

Jess confides all her woes to her father as she sits with him in his office. Explains how her efforts to get back with Jax didn’t go over well, and his hatred towards her hurts like hell. Opens up about how lost she is and admits she has no fucking clue how to handle all this.

She just makes herself even more vulnerable to her father though she doesn’t want to. It sucks that this figure of power who’s poisoned her with his sick breed of love all of her life is the only damn constant she has to hold onto.

Rich always reads his daughter well. For eighteen years he’s forged her in his own personal hell. “You’re still planning to tell that boy you’re pregnant aren’t you? Do you think that’ll make him want you?”

No she doesn’t. Just this morning she had tried to tell herself that there was hope but knew there wasn’t.

“Is this baby even his?”

“Dad...!” Jess cries out as if physically struck, because that shit cuts deep as fuck. It drives her mad. It was just one mistaken night she’d spend with that disgusting skater kid after he offered her some drugs when she was broken up real bad, compared to all the wild sex that she and Jackson Teller had. Of course Jax always wrapped his business, whereas Dash couldn’t be bothered but it’d be such rotten luck. She lies more to herself than to her father that this child must be Jax’s ‘cause the thought of the alternative is just so fucking hideous… “Of course it is.”

Of course it’s not.

His daughter knows as well as he does that she’s lying and she’s dying at the thought.

Rich holds her closer to his chest now as she weeps, for the sick breed of love he harbors for his daughter never sleeps. The night is deep, and though he has no way of knowing all the secrets that it keeps... somehow he senses in his bones that in another room, here in his home, his firstborn son is bleating like a broken little sheep.

Somehow he senses that audacious Son of Anarchy has planted all these seeds. As if it’s Jackson’s place to make the Daltons pay for their misdeeds—to bruise their pride and break their hearts until they bleed—like it’s his right to set the price so fucking steep. 

But Rich will wield the power that he holds over this town in every way, to make damn sure at the end of the day... that Jackson Teller is the one to fucking pay.

For what he sows is his to reap. ********************

🎵 Song 18 from the FoA playlist:      “Together” by The xx

New York, New York || 2014

It’s really lovely here.

She thinks it with a smile playing softly on her face, as she wipes down the sugar-dusted tables in this place, the sweet patisserie her mother operates lit by the bright letters across the street of Tribeca Frontier.

Aera is glad that LoveLee’s lives up to its name and that the business has been thriving over these past several years. Minah Lee prides herself on baking treats that look pretty and taste even better than they appear.

It’s almost closing time and Minah’s in the back room taking care of some administrative business. Aera’s helping to clean up after a busy day and now she’s nearly finished; they’ll head out in a few minutes.

Or at least that’s what they’ve planned.

When the bell chimes above the front door, Aera sweeps a tress of hair behind her ear prepared to take a final order just before they close the store. Smiles politely as she swivels where she stands.

The smile fades as soon as she meets that familiar gaze of grey just as foreboding as the weapon in his hand.

Her breathing catches in her throat to see that stare so dead and hollow. Tries and fails to calm her terror with a slow and steady swallow.

Just what business Bryce has here she doesn’t know. She should’ve known though, that with any hope of happiness her heart might dare to chase ever since love was lost so many years ago... just as it was back then, the same damn thing would happen. Some dark danger and disaster would be bound to fucking follow.

Hope would be bound to die hopelessly.

Bryce is a different man today though in so many ways the same. Still bears the burden of his name, and holds that legacy closely, but there’s a difference now he carries it with shame. His tone now as he speaks is gravelly and ghostly. “Long time no see.”

Aera remains frozen in place, brown eyes fixated on the features she still recognizes underneath the unkempt beard that hides the countless scars across his face. He walks in here and that’s what he says? Honestly?

“You know, those years ago...” Bryce murmurs with his voice low. Holds the gun out by the barrel with the handle facing her; it’s just a crazy little gesture. Shit affects her ominously even though he means it innocently. “...I wish you’d pulled the trigger on me.”

She has no clue what to make of that exactly.

Neither does he. Drops his arm back down to his side with the gun hanging from his hand loosely and sadly. It’s been eighteen years since he stared down the barrel of a gun aimed up at him by Aera Lee—he’d blacked out afterward but somewhere he had catalogued the memory. Since then he’s been through war across the sea. It was the only peace he found after what happened to his family; in the dozen years since Bryce’s service ended he’s been living street to street roaming the whole damn country aimlessly and madly.

This scrunched up scrap of paper in his pocket... was the only thing that stayed with him through all of it. And lately it’s been eating him up badly.

That’s what brought him to the streets of New York City; this old letter from his sister tells the story. It’s the reason why he’s spent these eighteen years feeling so shitty. Now he’s standing here in front of Aera Lee words start to spew. “I just wanted to say I’m fucking sorry. You and your family never deserved all that sad shit that happened to you. My dad was such a dick and I was too. It’s no excuse but that was all I fucking knew.”

He reaches in his pocket and pulls out the crumpled note. His every move tightens the lump in Aera’s throat.

And in this instant, from this distance, Will can somehow sense her fear from where he’s working in his bar across the road. Through the window he can see the tall imposing silhouette standing in front of her and though he can’t discern the items in his hands, he senses danger and tension and all the instincts toward protection in his soldier’s heart explode.

He doesn’t want to cause alarm, make any sudden moves that might startle the stranger into doing Aera harm. Crosses the street in dark of night. Approaches close to the front door to get a better view while staying out of sight.

Bryce holds the letter out towards Aera and his voice quavers with sadness, his delusion that this even matters bordering on madness. “Know it’s eighteen years too late but you should have this.”

She’s not about to take a step closer, so he just sets the letter on the nearest table. Grants it freedom from his shaking hands to rest upon a surface that’s so stable. Wants to feel better but what that even means he’s not so sure; at least the act of letting go of it provides some sort of closure. Helps him to let go of her—his little sister or the ghost of her—delivering this letter is the final line he throws to her. Last thing before he goes to her. 

He lets a flow of senseless words fall from his tongue. “We did her wrong. You and Prince Fucking Charming should’ve been together all along. We were so twisted and so full of hate and everything just blew up so much bigger...” he envisions it again, the emptiness before he blacked out drunk back then, that moment when she had his whole life at the mercy of her finger. “I just wish you’d pulled the trigger.”

But she hadn’t so he’s lived on ever since as the seas changed and seasons turned. Remembers ruefully how Jax had pulled the trigger five damn times when he’d attacked Bryce in his garage but all the gunshots had been blank although he wishes that they weren’t.

He has no clue now what’s become of Jackson Teller. All he knows is what was written in that letter—testament to how his sister’s dying wishes had been shattered. “After all these years I guess it doesn’t matter. But you should’ve been together.”

Will can’t hear them through the door, and his gut tells him that this man somehow knows Aera and he doesn’t mean her harm, although there’s no way to be sure. From where he’s standing Will can’t tell whether he’s armed, and to assume that he’s a threat seems premature. He wants to step in yet is worried that his unexpected entrance might stir something up; maybe this stranger would go off if Will decides to interrupt. Maybe that’d be the cue for violence to erupt.

But he weighs that against the risk of something happening to her if he stands by—realizes that he’d rather die... 

It’s as this thought crosses his mind, that the man’s hand shifts just enough for Will to see the gun to which he had been blind. 

Everything changes from the moment that telltale metallic glint catches his eye.

He only hopes he’s not too late, as every impulse in his body hits accelerate—

Bryce turns the instant that he hears the door burst open, head still carrying the last words that he’d spoken: Should’ve been together. Should’ve been together.

Now the man he sees in front of him is none other than Jackson Fucking Teller.

It was time to pull the trigger anyway once he had let go of the letter—nothing else should even matter—but to see the sweet fruition of the love that he and his father once fought so hard to shatter... maybe now he can die just a little better.

They’re together.

Just as quickly as the gun is raised he falls. Shot to the head, sprays his own blood across the walls. The same dark red, as those stark letters on the storefront she once read, hatefully painted—yet so different now there’s closure and contrition in the place of all that hatred. Still it’s sad and still it’s tainted. In this instant doesn’t feel different at all.

So much had happened all those years ago; the writing on the wall was just the start, of everything that fell so tragically apart. It left such scars across her heart. Scars that won’t ever let her go. For eighteen years she’d feared the deadweight of her sorrow wouldn’t ever let her grow.

She’s different now though, changed in ways she’s yet to know. More than just older. Heart beats different when the gravity between her and her soldier brings them closer, as his arms reach out to hold her, as his heart opens to totally enfold her. Head feels different as she rests it in the haven of his shoulder. Ringing still with those last words the man upon the floor had told her.

Told her of what should’ve been. But there’s no telling all the things that would’ve been, no dealing other than the cards that they’ve been given. There’s no healing to be counted in the sum of all the sins to be forgiven, and no other reading found among the stars as love imagines them rewritten. No one wins the game of dwelling on the things that could’ve been. Still hearts can’t help to chase the feeling so forbidden, stealing happiness from dreams too sweet to ever be lived in.

Yet some things are as they should be and feel that way, and that’s a feeling that means more than stars can say—it’s all that matters, at the end of the damn day. Some seeds of happiness and love sow deep and grow better for all the storms they’ve weathered. That’s what matters.

And she knows it in this moment as the storm clouds start to part, across her heart, when all her life till now they’d only ever gathered.

They’re together.

They’re together. ____________________

I hope you guys are enjoying so far! I’m super grateful for comments so please let me know if you are!! 😊❤️

If you’d like to be notified of future chapters of this fic, just let me know and I’ll gladly add you to the tag list! ✨

Frontier of Anarchy Tag List:

@pomegranatearildreams @rayslittlekitten @samanthaisnthome @kesskirata @soaharleys @innerpaperexpertcloud @itspdameronthings @dvnvln @doll0026 @maeleeme @aussies074 @niki-xie @blondiekook @bettergetusetoit @rosegxoxo @trappedinlove666 @digitalhoe @oldstuffnewstuff @poge-life @mrspeacem1nusone @o0idk0o @thexhostess @melodranas @stellaa33 @midnight-dreams-23 @kravitzwhore

Series Masterlist

→ Next Chapter

[charnelhouse]

alright so the million dolar question is, why watch your step? where did that come from?

Oh wow what a question! So I wrote the bloom universe which involved the tf guys and a reader and I thought it was the most self-indulgent shit I’d ever written bc who the hell writes a story with four dude love interests who all end up with the main OC. Turns out I didn’t know that the concept of “reverse-harem” existed until like the fall of 2021 and I then read a bunch of books that featured that trope.

There aren’t a ton of good ones out there tbh and I feel like a lot of them can be incredibly abusive. WYS is certainly dark and has pretty fucked up elements, but I want to explore that toxicity and build off of it. These are bad people who are capable of good things and there’s just a different level of morality here. It’s like when you watch the Sopranos or SOA - people die/kill all the time. In a lot of those reverse harem mob books, the guys were always cartoonishly evil or fell in love two days into meeting the mc. I wanted to make sure each guy was different and had layers and dimensions and blah blah. I wanted the main girl to be her own level of fucked up and not perfect or “not like other girls” adjacent. Faire has her Mary Sue qualities at times, but she’s insecure and self-destructive, too.

I’d never been into mob aus, but I read Den of Vipers and was like okay the concept of the mob setting actually works well with a reverse harem trope bc you kind of need guys who are all stuck in the same environment and are already taboo by nature bc of their living. I felt like the TF guys looked like they could fit the mob trope. Oscar just gives me that vibe and Charlie has played Jax Teller who is essentially the leader of a gang. They’re also all smoking hot.

I wrote a snippet of a scene and asked if people would be into it and a lot of people were. What’s so funny is that I made the guys WAY more mean and dark in that short drabble and just couldn’t really keep that up once I started the story itself.

It’s become something else entirely. Sometimes I don’t even envision the characters the way i originally did. There’s literally zero connection to Triple Frontier other than the names and the absolute boner I get when people have told me they read WYS despite never having seen TF. I’m half-asleep in bed so hopefully this made sense.

[marc-spectorr]

hey loves!

i gained a ton of new followers over the last few weeks (hi! hello friends! welcome to my blog 🥰) and wanted to take a sec to remind everyone that fic requests are currently closed. i apologize to those who really want me to bring their ideas to life, but bc i have a bunch of wips right now, it���ll take me forever to get to yours :(

however, requests for headcanons are always open! those are much easier and quicker for me to do. i can write sfw/nsfw hcs ft the moon boys and santiago garcia from triple frontier! the list of oscar characters that i will write for will be updated as soon as i get through his other movies! feel free to send in a request if that’s something you’d like to see 💕

wishing you all a wonderful day 🤍✨

[waywardimpalawriter]

Book Boyfriend A Frankie Morales x Plus Size F! Reader fic Part 1

Book Boyfriend

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Plus Size F! Reader

Characters: Frankie Morales, Reader, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, William “Ironhead” Miller, Ben “Benny” Miller, Isabella Morales (OC)

Setting: Two years after the events in Colombia (Triple Frontier)

Rating: R, NSFW

Warnings: Smut, Soft Frankie (yes that has to be a warning), cursing, teasing, unprotected sex, oral (male and female receiving), tooth rotting fluff, mixed with a little hurt/comfort, mention of abuse,

Word count: Part 1: 10,284

Summary: You’ve been so engrossed in your currant book series its lead to Frankie feeling a little left out.  

Notes: This is my first Frankie Morales/Pedro Pascal Fic, so I’m hoping everyone loves it as much as I did writing it. Something a little fluffy I thought of while thinking of my own favorite book boyfriends. Using the translator Systran for my very bad Spanish translations. A grateful thank you to @icanbeyourjedi for helping me out with Frankie’s Dog tags.

Tag list: @manalg14​   @songbirdcannabe​ @frannyzooey

Licking your index finger to turn the page of the book in your hand, unaware you have someone staring. Watching the way, you lick that single digit, adjusting himself on the couch beside you. Callused hand coming down to brush over your plush thigh, drawing little circles over the exposed skin. Attention still firmly on the book, Frankie huffs turning back to the tv but his hand stays on your thigh. Eyes darting towards your mouth to catch you slowly lick your lips. Teeth trapping the bottom between to nibble as you read a really good part. 

Groaning softly at your actions, he leans over to nuzzle your neck, patchy beard softly tickling the skin of your neck. Making you giggle, placing a hand on his chest to gently push Frankie away, “Baby I’m reading.” 

“For the past two hours, hermosa,” slight pout in his tone, taking the hand on his chest to bring it to him mouth and kiss your fingers. Distractions that normally work seem to fall short, eyes darting between the page and his. Soft slightly chapped lips trailing a path up the inside of your arm  reaching the hem of your sleeve the same time your eyes lock. 

Pausing to look over at him, you cup his cheek patting lightly, “One more chapter then I’ll be all yours I promise handsome.” 

Rolling those expressive chocolate pools, he sits back against the couch trying to ignore the throbbing in jeans because of the little actions you’re doing. “One more chapter Mi cielito I’m going to hold you to that.” 

However, one more chapter turned into two than three and Frankie started to fall asleep beside you. Jerking awake with the soft touch of your lips against his forehead, “Come baby lets go to bed,” words whispered with a touch of regret flowing through the cadence. You hadn’t meant to get so engrossed in your book, ignoring your boyfriend beside you. 

Sweetly, you help him get up from the couch, seeing how tired he is, and a slice of remorse eats away at you for keeping him up so long and breaking your promise. “I’m sorry my love, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” 

Grunting low, draping an arm around your shoulders to pull you against him while the two of you head to your shared bedroom. Only pausing long enough to check on Isabella, seeing she’s knocked out curled around her baby doll. Sighing softly at the sight you side eye Frankie seeing a tired but sweet smile tugging at his lips. 

“How’d I get so fucking lucky?” though the question is rhetorical you answer smacking his chest first for the curse word. 

“Language Mr. Morales,” light giggles leave you, pulling him along towards your bedroom. 

Shrugging, “Bella’s asleep she can’t hear me,” eyes dropping to watch the sway of your wide hips soft groan rumbling low. 

“To answer your question,” turning to face him with a smirk on your lips having heard the groan. “We both got lucky baby especially after everything we went through to get where we are today.” Cupping his bearded cheek, brushing your thumb just under his eye. “Plus, luck had nothing to do with it but love that brought us together.” 

Soft gasp parting your lips, watching transfixed by the sigh of Frankie nuzzling his face in your palm, kissing the center and making a shiver of arousal race down your back. Unable to stop yourself from looking between those soft lips and dark eyes. Catching the smirk tugging at the corners as he leans in to press his mouth to yours in a tender kiss. Strong arms wrap around your thick waist hauling you against his firm chest, garnering a squeak to escape your lips. Heart thumping erratically behind your ribs wondering for a moment if he could feel or maybe hear the muscle working over time because of him. 

Of their own accord your arms wrap around his shoulders, pressing farther into his warmth. Low groan working its way from the depths of his chest. Hands slipping down into the back pockets of those ass hugging jeans he loves. Cupping the generous globes to pull you flush against him. Letting you feel hard evidence of his arousal, the thick ridge incased in denim presses into your thigh. On a gasp his tongue licks into the warm cavern of your mouth sliding over your teeth before mating in a sensual dance all their own.  

Eyes dropping closed at the pleasure his mouth is giving you, one hand stray’s to card through the curls at the back of his head, blunt nails scratching lightly. The other tracing little patterns over his back knowing how sensitive to your touch he is. Chuckling into his mouth, his body wiggling into yours trying to get away from your teasing fingers. Though he doesn’t want to break the kiss, nor move from having you against him. 

“Hermosa,” warning growl rumbling from his chest, as he squeezes your ass in retaliation making another mewl of pleasure leave you. Pressing yourself into his body, your eyes open to stare into his heat darken gaze. 

Biting your bottom lip, you happen to glance at the clock, red numbers staring back at you in remembrance of the time and how late it’s gotten. “Well, fuck me,” you groan with a shake of your head. 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do for the past few hours cariño,” dropping his head  to rest on your collarbone, his own groan rumbling up. Knowing you need to break apart but not wanting to let you go. 

Running your fingers through his dark brown hair, giving the scalp a light scratch, “I’m sorry Frankie,” guilt wringing your heart. Knowing it’s not easy for the two of you to be intimate with Isabella. A blessing to you both, though to Frankie she’s his world one that you happened to step into about a few months after her birth. “I didn’t realize the hours slipped away from me.” 

“It’s all right Y/N,” soft moan leaving his lips at how good your fingers feel in his hair. “I know you haven’t had time to yourself to read in a long while.” Raising his head to look at you with heated eyes, “Just don’t forget I’d like a little attention to,” giving your ass another squeeze, pout finding its way over his mouth. “Besides how could that book be so interesting when you have me sitting right beside you?” wiggling his brow at you.

Giggling softly, “So full of yourself Morales,” reluctantly pulling from his arms to start your nightly routine. “Those book boyfriends got me through years of sexual drought and fueled a ton of fantasies.” Pulling your shirt from your body hearing the groan from your boyfriend, making another giggle leave you. Hands on hips, you stare at him, catching his pink tongue come out and lick his lips. Shifting hips to try and alleviate at least a touch of pressure on his cock. “Like what you see flyboy?” 

“God, you know I do sweetheart,” words coming out breathless though gritted teeth, trying to  hold back and using all his will power to keep from taking you. “Fucking tease,” he tosses out when you turn, pulling your bra off to slide your sleep shirt over your top half. “Besides you have me now to full fill all those fantasies of yours. Why not let me?”

“Tomorrow I’ll make it up to you Francisco I promise,” turning back to him, you step forward wrapping your arms around his neck. “If I didn’t have such an early morning, I would let you fuck me into our mattress all night and fill all my erotic idea’s.”  

Groaning, “Una princesa de burlas, vas a ser la muerte de mí.” (Translation “A princess of mockery, you’re gonna be the death of me.) Nipping at your neck, knowing that speaking Spanish never fails to turn you on with his voice dropping an octave in cadence. Only confirmed when you start to rub your thighs together, combined with the little whimpers that leaves you. “Not too fun, eh?” 

Rolling your eyes, giving Frankie a shove that barely moves him but makes his head come up so you're looking into his eyes. Seeing the mischievous glint  right before you kiss his chin, by passing his lips to kiss the tip of his nose. Placing your hands on his cheeks to bring his face down, adding a kiss between his eyebrows, the final one landing on his forehead. His face almost pressed into your breasts, which makes him groan and lick his lips. Before coming back to his lips giving them a tender kiss then pulling away to head towards the bathroom. 

Getting lost in your warmth and scent, Frankie staggers a few steps when you move away, smile sliding over his soft lips while watching you move. Knowing you’re being both sweet and temping with those kisses, Frankie pulls his own shirt from his body. Stretching his back from working all day on the boss’s helicopter, he goes to drop it in the laundry basket stepping in front of the open bathroom door. To catch you rubbing lotion into your legs, one foot on the bathtub’s ledge as you work the cream into your skin. Trying not to stare but he can’t help it, knowing what those soft legs felt like wrapped around his waist or over his shoulders. Better yet on either side of his head while he’s feasting on your cunt. 

Cursing in Spanish to turn quickly pressing the heel of his palm into his thickening shaft, breath coming out in quick pants. Reciting the proper procedure for takeoff and landing a helo trying to get himself under control and not think about bedding you all night. Frankie finishes getting undressed, sliding his lower body into a pair of red and black flannel pajama pants, smirk turning up his lips as he takes a seat on the end of the bed. You just finishing up your nightly routine, pause at the door to flick the lights off. Eyes landing on Frankie, who’s bare chest catches your attention first. Having to stop yourself from licking your lips as the soft light highlights his tawny skin. Soft in all the right places especially the little tummy you love to kiss when trailing your lips over his body. 

Dragging your eyes up to lock with his, seeing the smirk that makes you shake your head at him, “I’m guessing this is pay back?” stepping forward, one leg sliding between his thighs. Pushing them apart so you can stand closer. Hands come to rest on his shoulders, one carding through his thick curls as his own rest on your wide hips. 

Looking up at you, chin resting on your tummy still unable to fathom how he could got so lucky. “Is it working hermosa?” eyes darken when your tongue peeks out to wet your lips. 

“Nope,” popping the p while trying to keep from giggling at the crest fallen look on his handsome face. That he buries in your plush shirt covered tummy. Trying to hide that fact that yes those pajama pants work so damn will. “Next time go naked there’s a possibility for me jumping your bones then.” 

“That can be arranged sweetheart,” grin returning to his lips while standing to wrap his arms back around your shirt covered waist. Pressing you against his chest feeling your puckered nipples beneath the fabric begging for attention. He’s more than willing to give in, stripping you down and worshipping every inch he could get his mouth on.  

Soft whimper leaves you lips when his lowers to ghost over yours. The barely there touch making your knees weak but its the wide yawn that overtakes you instead of the kiss. Breaking the moment as Frankie groans walking you both to the side of the bed. Leaning over to pull the covers back, “Let’s get you in bed mi amor, tomorrow I’ll ravish you till you can’t walk.” 

Nodding you climb in moving to the middle so Frankie can get in, curling up to his side, resting a hand on his chest to draw little patterns. “Promise handsome?” whispering the words into his ear then placing a kiss to his cheek. Your touch not helping things but he wouldn’t change anything. Instead he takes your hand and intertwines your fingers, placing them over his heart. 

  “Promise cariño, you know I wouldn’t break one,” turning his head to look at you. Seeing the droop of your lids soft smile gracing his features. Leaning in, to place a kiss to each of your half-closed eyes, “Sleep Y/N we have tomorrow and many more days after that.” Adding a gentle kiss to your lips. 

“You’re too good to me Frankie,” muttering the words sleepily, snuggling against him, left arm wrapping around your waist to hold you. “Te Amo,” whispering the words, lips placing a kiss to his neck breath ghosting over his skin as you fall asleep. 

While Frankie lays there shocked, not because you spoke in Spanish but for what those simple words meant to him. Wishing that you hadn’t fallen sleep so he could say them back and show you in actions how much he truly loves you. He settles for now on holding you closer making sure the sheet and blankets are securely covering the both of you, knowing how cold you get during the night. Placing his lips against your forehead for a kiss, his own eyes starting to drift closed. Your rhythmic breathing lulling him into dreams of your life together. 

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

Intrusive noise brings you slowly from the warm cocoon you're wrapped in, low groan leaving your lips. Moving to turn the offending alarm off but you can’t reach as Frankie has you pushed into the mattress cuddling into your chest with his heavy arm draped over your tummy. “Frankie baby the alarm,” hearing him grunt against your skin, giggles leave your lips. 

You try one more time to reach the clock only to have him bat a hand at the offending object, hitting the snooze harder than needed and rolling back against you. Burying his lips in your throat, soft mustache tickling your skin making you giggle and try to move away. Through his strong arms hold you even closer, your head tipping back to give the access he’s wordlessly asking for. Fingers carding through his curls, tugging gently as a low moan leaves your throat. One he feels with his mouth against your pulse that picks up with each nibble and kiss given. 

“Frankie,” name comes out on a whimper when his nose brushes just south of your ear. 

“Mi amor,” sucking softly, tasting your skin with his tongue that draws little patterns. Free hand moving down to the hem of your shirt that’s ridden up while you slept. Callused fingers finding your bare waist to spread his hand over your skin, sliding it down and back to cup the generous globe of your ass. Pressing his face into your fabric covered chest, making another moan leave your lips as his own seek out the pebbled peaks of your nipples. Wetting the cloth as he suckles one into the hot cavern of his mouth. 

The hand at your ass moving lower to bring your thigh over his hip, rocking against you. Flatten your hands over his chest, pushing twice before he rolls on his back taking you with him. So that your straddling his waist, feeling the hard press of his shaft along your folds. Hands bracing yourself up over him, mouth never leaving your breast. As he switches to the other, eyes locking with yours letting you see the need and heat filling the now almost black orbs. Pupil’s crowding out the beautiful brown of his iris’s you love to drown in.  Mewling whimpers leave your parted lips, head tossed back, while your hips rock against him in slow teasing circles. 

Growling in impatience, Frankie makes quick work of pulling your shirt off to fling it to the floor, mouth reattaching to your breast. Nipping the puckered bud before trailing his lips over your skin and back up your neck. Reaching your ear, “It’s tomorrow hermosa or did you forget and want that book boyfriend of yours?” 

Turning your head to capture his lips in a deep hard kiss, one that’s all teeth and tongue, a battle for dominance. Angling your head just right so that you can take in air through your nose while tangling your tongue with Frankie’s. Though before long the need for true oxygen becomes too much as your forced to break apart both of you panting for breath. Resting your foreheads together you subtly move your hips. Just brushing your soaked panties against his flannel covered cock. Letting him feel your passion that he’s started. 

An idea pops into your head one that’s fleeting with the warmth of his large hands landing on your ass. Cupping the globes to press you against him, while he plants his feet and thrusts upward. It’s anything but teasing, more demanding with a need born from a night of dreams that has him hard as steal and wanting to bury himself deep inside your body.  

“Frankie,” his name coming out on a whimper, mouth moving to his jawline kissing the salt and pepper beard. Nosing the surprisingly soft hairs, trailing your lips to the thick cords of his neck pushing his chin backwards to get access to where you want to place kisses. Both of you shutting out the world right then and all that needs accomplished for the day in favor of indulging in carnal pleasures interrupted last night by time moving too quickly. 

“Tell me what you want hermosa and I’ll give it to you,” breath ragged with need, his cock throbbing with each movement of his hips against you. Feeling your essence soaking through to his own skin. Low growl rambling into your chest that he presses to his, loving the feel of your nipples brushing his overheated flesh. 

He goes to pull your panties off and his own pajama pants when a squeal of want makes the two of you break apart. Groaning, pushing his head back into the pillows as you rest your forehead against his collarbone unable to help the silent giggles that leave your lips. Frankie tips your chin up when he feels the shake of your body, thinking you’re upset and shaking his head when seeing the mirth in your sweet gaze. 

“Looks like a cold shower for you handsome,” trying to keep the mirth from your tone as you lean down to give him one more sweet kiss. “I’ll go take care of our princess you shower and get ready for work.” Groaning when you must move from his body, feeling his hands slide down from your thick waist, a shiver runs down your frame at the caress he gives your body. Though you try to suppress the want while searching for something to wear for right now. Spying his flannel robe, “Breakfast?” brow cocked, turning back to face him. Licking your lips as you look over your lover. Unable to hide the need blooming deeper in your eyes, finding that you can’t take your eyes off the sexy man lying in your bed. 

He turns on his side one arm propping up his head to watch you pull on his camo bath robe. “Never thought something so simple would look so sexy,” words whispered though you’ve heard them as Frankie looks you over. Feeling the places his eyes linger like a caress of those big rough hands of his, making another shiver skate over your body. 

Swallowing, knowing there’s not much time till Isabella calls/squeals for you again. “You want breakfast Frankie?” trying to get your mind off what you really want. Like jump back into bed with that man and make him growl and moan your name till he’s putty in your hands. The only man to ever make you feel sexy while naked or in this case dressed in his robe. Knowing that your not some runway model with a size two body, but it’s a body Frankie can never get enough of. One he loves to see pressed into the mattress, while he takes you in any manner of ways. Face consumed with the pleasure he’s giving you or those times when your greedy and want to show him heaven. Devouring his cock in the warmth of your mouth, teasing him, knowing just what places to lick and nibble. The wanton minx only Frankie gets to bring out and see. But most of all its that sweet smile you give him that tugs at his heart and what made him fall in love with you almost at first sight. 

An impatience huff from you has a smile tugging at his lips, breaking him from the thoughts filtering through his mind. Raising to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out to snag the ties to his robe and bring you closer. Mischief running through those soulfully deep brown eyes, hands resting on your hips, “Only if I can eat you for breakfast mi amor.” 

Voice impossibly deep, sends a spark of arousal so potentate you must rub your thighs together for friction and place your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself upright. “That’s dessert flyboy and it’s nowhere near dinner time so sadly I’m off the menu for right now.” Giving him a bright smile, as you see the disappointment flashes in his eyes. Leaning down to kiss him softly, “Shower, I’ll have breakfast ready and our little princess, before getting ready myself.” 

Stepping away you pause at the door to look over your shoulder, catching him watching your every move. “See something you like Francisco?” One shoulder of the robe sliding down to bare your skin to his eyes. 

Shaking his head, he can’t stop the smile from gracing his lips, “I see someone I love,” raising to join you at the door. Wrapping an arm around your waist, to lean down and kiss you back softly. Heart beating out of his chest at the simple words he spoke that made you gasp but return the kiss. Pulling away with a goofy smile on your lips. 

“Love huh? You going soft on me Mr. Morales?” knowing what it took for him to say that word and remembering that you had told him the same last night in Spanish. Happy tears form in the corners of your eyes as you turn fully towards him, cupping his cheeks in your hands, “I love you to Frankie.” 

Tender moment broken by the call of “Mama,” which makes you both laugh in happiness as you move away. 

Squeaking at the smack Frankie lands on your ass before you’ve stepped fully away from him. “By the way hermosa you look fucking sexy in my robe. Though I do have to say it would look so much better on the floor,” giving your wink before turning to head to the shower. 

“Same with those sinful flannel pj’s baby, they may look good riding low on that waist of yours, showing off that sexy tummy and treasure trail. But I’d look better with my legs wrapped around you,” you return giggling when you hear the low growl from him. “Don’t worry they will be on the floor tonight count on that one.” 

Heat rising over Frankie’s cheeks at your words even as another groan leaves his lips along with a soft curse feeling his cock throb from just the mire thoughts your promise conjures up. He has to lean a little on the bathroom door to steady himself before stripping and heading for a very cold shower. 

Sadly, both your days didn’t go as planned. Repairs on the helo took longer than Frankie scheduled, he drug himself in a little after 8, the scent of pizza tickling his nose as he toes off his shoes by the door. 

“Y/N,” calling out softly not wanting to wake Isabella who he knew would be fast asleep in her bed. The sight which meets his eyes makes his heart expand and tears form, both his girls fast asleep on the couch. The book you read last night dangling from your hand just shy of landing on the floor. Free hand cuddling your little girl against you, fingers spread over her small back. 

Stepping closer, he hates to wake you, looking so peaceful, beautiful eyes closed contentment making your features smooth. Frankie leans down to scoop up Isabelle, her own eyes sleepily opening to stare at him. “Dada,” small voice whispers, her head drooping to lay on his shoulder falling back asleep. Soft chuckle at her actions, Frankie runs his hand over her head gently sweeping away some of the chestnut curls. Still in aww of this little girl he never thought would be his. Movement catches his eye, turning to see you waking slowly. 

Stirring with the warmth and weight of Isabella gone, you smile up at Frankie rising slowly to place your book in your previous spot before stretching out your back. “Long day baby?” standing to wrap your arms around both of your loves. 

“Hmm,” pressing warm lips to first his little girl’s forehead before leaning down to kiss you. “I’m just happy to be home hermosa.” Not wanting to go into the crappy details of his day right then. “I’ll go put our angel to bed while you get ready yourself.” 

Shaking your head, ruffling her hair gently and adding a kiss to her soft chestnut curls, “I’ll warm you up some dinner and we can talk before bed.” Reaching up to brush your hand over his bearded cheek, cupping the side and swiping a thumb over the apple of his cheek. 

“Sure, you don’t want to return to your book boyfriend?” teasing glint making his eyes light with mirth that makes you roll your and pat his jaw. 

“Don’t tempt me Frankie baby I just might,” sending a smirk his way, turning then to head into the kitchen. Hearing the playfully annoyed huff leave him. 

Entering the kitchen bare feet silently padding over the cold tile, you busy yourself with getting a plate, trying not to think of your day. The events having led to the reason Isabella was still up, and pizza for dinner instead of the home cooked meal you had originally planned to make. Automatically placing two slices down on a plate and putting them in the microwave. Leaning back against the counter, arms crossed watching though not actually paying attention to the microwave plate spin, eyes unfocused glancing more inward than on the task at hand. You jump lightly when Frankie comes to stand in front of you, warm body soothing your horrible day, arms on either side caging you in. Wrapping your arms around his waist to rest your head on his chest. 

“Things not go as planned my love?” placing a kiss to the center of his shirt covered chest, not wanting to speak about your day yet. 

Soft grunt leaves his lips pressed into the side of your head, “Just long and a few fuck ups by the newbie’s who seem to think they know everything.” Eyes rolling through you can’t see the action with your head still pressed into his chest. Running his large hands up and down your back, pressing your soft plush body into his. “Sometimes I feel like I’m a relic in that place and no one wants to listen to me.” 

“You know more than all those assholes put together Frankie, you could put that helo back together with your eyes closed and fly it to points unknown in a blink of an eye,” looking up voice firm and strong with a note of pride in the cadence as you lean up to press your lips to his for a short kiss. 

“My little cheerleader,” grinning nuzzling his nose against yours. “If I get you that little outfit, would you wear it for me?” though seeing you in his robe turns him on more than any stupid costume. Being a man of simple wants and desires, he’d rather see you naked with just his dog tags between your breasts. 

This time you roll your eyes, “Not with all the extra padding I have it wouldn’t look right on me.” 

Low growl leaving his chest as he squeezes you tightly, “Sweetheart you would make anything look good though I do have to agree it wouldn’t look right on you.” Seeing the flash of hurt Frankie rushes to explain himself, “Not that you wouldn’t look sexy as fuck just, I’d much rather you in my robe or better yet naked.” Tracing the pattern on your scrub top with the tip of his finger till it reached your neck, resting the callused palm on your soft skin. 

Shivering at his words that fill your heart with love for this man, “Nice save stud,” resting your head back on his chest. Eyes closing, feeling his fingers brushing over your neck wondering how you got so lucky when there’s women and men out there that haven’t. Unwillingly the images from this afternoon filter through your mind making you squeeze Frankie tighter. 

Sensing the shift in your demeanor, the way you’re holding him like a life preserver wrapped around a drowning man. He pulls back just a little to tip your chin up with two fingers, “What happened mi amor?” seeing unshed tears glistening in your eyes. 

“Nothing,” single word muffled as you’ve buried your face back into his chest. Breathing in the scent of oil, lava soap and something that’s uniquely Frankie. It never fails to sooth your mind from the trouble, imagined and real. 

Squeezing you closer, he uses the hands at your waist to help boost you to sit on the counter, parting your thighs and slipping between. Cupping your cheeks in callused palms so that your looking into his eyes, “Talk to me hermosa you know you can tell me anything.” Thoughts going back to one of the many reasons he and Felicia, the mother of Isabella, didn’t make it. Both refusing to talk about what’s really bothering them. He doesn’t want a return to that kind of life not with you and not with all the work he put in to change that part of him. “Remember you said we’d talk, and I have so it’s your turn baby.”

Knowing he’s right, a soft sigh leaves your lips, “A young woman came in this afternoon to the clinic, she’d…” swallowing hard at the visions filling your mind, remembering the cuts and bruises, the tears. “Her partner messed her up pretty bad, I tried to get her to press charges, but she wouldn’t. Simply saying it’s her fault, she should’ve listened instead of disobeying.” Eyes downcast as you remember your own mother’s fight against abuse at the hands of her husband. Those memories combined with today’s events trap you in your mind till warm lips press against your forehead. Strong arms cradle you against his chest, stroking your back in soothing circles. 

“You did what you could mi alma, there wasn’t anything you could’ve said to change her mind, not till she’s ready. I know it brings the memories back and I’m so fucking sorry you and any woman or man has to go through that.” Moving just a fraction back to look into your eyes as your head raises, silent tears making little wet trails over your cheeks. 

Leaning in to kiss the salty moisture away, catching the dull glint of a necklace under your shirt. Frankie reaches up to tug the warm metal from under the fabric, breath catching at finding his dog tags dangling at the bottom. 

Bottom lip caught between your teeth, you look from the tags to Frankie, “They bring me comfort when you’re not around just like Isabella. I hadn’t meant to keep her up so late but having her lay on my chest while I read it kept the demons away.” 

“Mi amor you never have to explain, it's why I gave you these in the first place,” though the explanation tugs at his heart just as he tugs at the dog tags. The feeling of home, of you and Isabella being here and his, a plan forming in his mind. He’s been a rambling man for so long, even while dating and almost marrying Felicia, but now with you in his arms he felt at home. “As for Isabella I’m more than sure she enjoyed laying on the mama to sleep,” soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I almost didn’t move her, but then I thought you wouldn’t get much sleep on that couch and your back would blame you in the morning.” 

Melting at his words, the sweet look in his eyes makes you fall in love with Frankie all the more. “You are one amazing man you know that Francisco Morales?” Feeling the dog tags land back between your cloth covered breasts as his hands wrap around your waist to pull you closer to him. 

“I’m just a man mi amor, there’s nothing amazing about me,” soft yelp leaving his lips when you give his side a pinch under his shirt. Rubbing the bruised skin, “What’s that for?” pout forming on his mouth. 

“For thinking so little of yourself handsome, you know I don’t like it when you do that,” giving him a stern glance that turns soft under those pouting puppy dog eyes. You glance over his shoulder, seeing the microwave stopped a while ago and knowing he’s probably starved. “You need to eat but I’d warm that pizza up a little more before you do.” Moving just an inch you pull him back into a gentle kiss that’s nothing short of tooth rotten sweet and tender. Just little presses of your mouth to his, nipping a few times on his plush bottom lip before sucking lightly. 

Pulling back just a little, “It’s dinner time can I have my dessert now?” mischief sparkling in those deep brown pools as his hands rub your thighs that surround his waist. 

“I wouldn’t be much of a participant handsome,” once again guilt eats at your heart as a large yawn makes your mouth gap open and you stretch to work out the kinks in your muscles. “I know I promised…” 

Leaning in to kiss you twice, “Don’t you worry about that sweetheart, we have tomorrow.” 

“I know but you see my book boyfriend waits for me tomorrow and I can’t disappoint him,” giving Frankie a teasing smirk while slipping from the counter. His presence the salve to your wounded heart just as yours is to his. “Eat your dinner then come to bed, I wanna cuddle with my lover tonight.” 

Tugging you into his arms, lips placed on your forehead, “One of these days that book boyfriend of yours will find himself kicked out of our house.” Chuckling, he drops a possessive hand on your ass to give the plump flesh a squeeze. “Those tags mean your taken by me,” reluctantly letting you go, watching with love struck eyes as you walk away. 

“I’ll inform him of that baby,” turning you start for the bedroom, pausing at the door to look back and blow Frankie a kiss. 

Twenty minutes later, a couple of slices of pizza and half a beer, Frankie goes around the house making sure everything is locked up and lights are off. Treading sock footed to the only source left, he pauses to check first on Isabella then head to your shared bedroom. Pausing at the doorway to watch you sleep, curled around his pillow, dressed in his robe from this morning. A deep love fills his heart one he thought would never find him not after all the bad he’d done, all the marks he tallied with every mission. Yet you’ve stayed taking up room in his heart making it so that he never wants to let you go. 

With those thoughts in his mind, Frankie strips down to his boxers and slides into bed. Wrapping an arm around you, to pull you flush with his side. Soft sigh leaving your lips as you curl into him, draping a leg between his and an arm over his chest. Even in your sleep you manage to steal his breath and fall in love with you all over again. 

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

Golden sunlight filtered through the partly open curtains, bathing his features in soft yellow light. Dark brows smooth with sleep, arching over closed libs hiding those deep chocolate eyes you love so much. Lightly tracing the features of his face with the tips of your fingers, not wanting to wake him just yet having turned the alarm off after waking early. On your day off no less but getting to see Frankie like this peaceful, resting and without a care in the world made losing a little extra sleep worth it. 

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips, fingers tracing over his features. The tip of your index finger gliding over his defined nose that you love to kiss, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiles. Over cheeks especially the left with its dimple that appears every so often when he’s really happy normally when he’s staring at Isabella or you. That realization makes your heart hammer behind your ribs. Still wondering how you found this amazing man and more to the point how he could love someone like you. 

Those thoughts become interrupted when he mumbles words you can’t quite make out but draws your eyes to those lush lips. Ones that speak words of love and devotion, kisses away the nightmares, brushes over Isabella’s forehead or yours. Lips that could make you cry out or gasp in pleasure the likes you’ve never felt before and speak the most filthiest of things into your ear. The very thought of how wicked they could be makes you tremble as you trace over them softly. Laughing quietly when they move against those fingers almost like it tickles feeling his mustache brush your fingers small giggle leaving you. Breath catching when you feel the little unconscious kiss he places. Almost like he’s awake but the steady rise and fall of his chest shows you differently. 

Letting the breath you hold out to continue mapping his features. Brushing over the salt and pepper beard that graces his jawline in patches that you know he hates at times. Wanting it to fill in or darker in color like when he was younger. But you reassure him with kisses that you’ve grown to love his patchy facial hair and the color it’s become. Remembering the time, you told him that to you it’s a turn on and had to show him just what you meant. Smirking at that memory, your eyes trace lower for the moment over his pecs, the little slope of his tummy and down that dark trail of hair that slips under his boxers. Consciously licking your lips at the impressive morning wood he’s sporting tenting the black boxers encasing his lower body parts that aren’t covered by the thin sheet. 

  Reluctantly pulling your eyes away, knowing you’ll get to that point soon enough. Refocusing your attention’s to the strong column of his throat, tracing the veins till they disappear under his skin. Teasingly circling his nipples garnering a low moan from the man above you making a smirk appear even as your eyes dart up. Seeing he’s still asleep though his legs are starting to get a little restless, you glance down catching sight of the sheet slip a little lower. Fingers still dancing over his chest you turn back to your perusal of his body leaning in to place a soft kiss to the pebbled nipple closest to you. 

Smiling when there’s a gasp that leaves his lips this time, though you don’t look instead moving lower to nuzzle into his tummy. One of your favorite parts of him, that he hates thinking he’s going soft in his old age. You’d argued with him, musing how he could dislike a part of his body that’s soft when you were soft all over. Thick thighs and waist, arms that still flap after you stopped waving, the body of a Rubenesque angel. The last memory making your smile fondly as Frankie told you that one afternoon lying in bed naked, drawing patterns over your skin much like you do now to him. You’d scoffed that turned into a moan of pleasure when his lips started worshipping your body. Mapping the valley’s and dimples you didn’t like, sliding his big body between your thighs to kiss and bite at your skin. Marking you that afternoon as his, reminding you how beautiful and desirable he sees you. 

Only to return the favorite later that night ending the argument by reverently kissing and nipping each spot on his body, the scars, the softness, the strength he forgets that underlines his body. Even now you can’t stop yourself from placing a kiss to the center of his chest. Enjoying the sight of your lover spread out for you to devour. You don’t take your eyes off him while moving to lay between his legs. Robe parting to expose your breasts to his eyes when he wakes, and you know that’s coming soon. When you feel him twitch against your hand, the soft groan and movements of his restless body a dead giveaway. 

Leaning down to nuzzle his length with your lips and nose, breathing in the musky woodsy scent of his body that has tingles dancing over your skin. Taking the cloth covered elastic band between your fingers to peel it back. Exposing the head of his cock jutting upward against the curls of his groin making you lick your lips. Tongue peeking out to lap at the pearl drop of precum that sits perfectly over the slit. Tasting his tangy musk of his essence, savoring that first little drop while peeling his boxer briefs lower over his muscular thighs. Carefully tugging them and pushing the sheet off his body while you wiggle down. Till the under garment gets tossed to the floor along with the bedsheet, his body bare to your glaze. Catching sight of his chest starting to rise and fall a little quicker now. Expressive eyes moving a little faster behind closer lids. 

Licking your lips at the sight knowing you need to act quickly, or Frankie will wake and spoil your fun. Returning to your position, making sure the robe is still gaping open for his viewing pleasure. Leaning in to trace your lips over the underside of his thick shaft. More than average in girth and length the very thought of him inside you has your own thighs wanting to rub together for some kind of friction. But you remember this isn’t about you, it’s a repayment of pleasure he’s given you, of all the little things, the touches, kisses, the sweetness that is your Frankie. You want to repay him, no matter how many times he’s told you it’s not necessary. You want to show him heaven just as he’s done for you. 

A grunt pulls you from the musing, tugging a smirk across your lips, burying them at the base of his shaft. Nibbling little kisses till you reach the red tinged head, tongue slipping out to flatten against the slit and drag across. Wrapping one hand that barely fits around the base placing him heavily on your tongue to circle your mouth and close around the tip. Sucking softly, tongue flicking quickly a few times, before widening your jaw and taking as much of his cock in. 

Slightly gagging when he hits the back of your throat, and swallow. Full lips covering the shaft tightly while dragging your mouth up, and down hand pumps and twists the part you can’t fit. Bobbing slowly, grinning when a pair of callused hands come to cup the back of your head. Not pushing just resting trying to ground himself. 

Spanish curses fly from his lips, “Mierda hermosa que la boca tuya se siente como el cielo,” back arching off the mattress, eyes flying open to stare down at you. Darkened with passion and desire, licking his lips as your own are wrapped around his throbbing cock. “Tan bueno para mí, mi amor.” (Fucking shit beautiful that mouth of yours feels like heaven.) (So good to me, my love.) 

Head bobbing slowly, eyes locked with his, pulling up till just the head rests on your tongue, sucking lightly before letting go with a wet pop. “Morning handsome, sleep well?” smirking at the question, you drop one hand between his thighs to gently caress the slightly roughen skin of his balls. Testing the weight and giving a light squeeze before starting to massage each one in turn. Delighting when it pulls another puffing moan from his lips. 

Words unable to form in answer to your teasing question though he knows you’re not truly asking for one just torturing him with that sexy morning voice. Fingers flexing on your head, massaging the scalp, a low groan vibrating through his chest, feeling the soft pressing of your lips on his shaft, accompanying with little nibbles and licks. Making his eyes roll back at the pleasure your giving him. It’s almost too much and not enough at the same time. 

Making him sit up, reaching for you trying wrap his hands under your arms and pull you against him. But you’re a little quicker, anticipating his movements and reluctantly pulling away, letting his shaft go so you’re not in arms reach. Shaking your head and crawling back up his body, making sure to pause and place a kiss to the crown of his cock, his tummy which he tries to suck in. Straddling one thigh to let him feel how wet you’ve become from just giving him pleasure. Whimpering when that thigh flexes under you, moving up to brush against your tender dripping folds. 

Shaking your head again, placing one hand on his chest to push him back into the pillows. Seeing the slight confusion in those soft chocolate eyes giving you the sweetest puppy look. That would normally have you melting in puddle of goo but not this time. Nope you had to stand your ground, “Won’t work Francisco,” leaning in to kiss him hungrily. Slipping your tongue into his mouth on a moan as he tastes himself in the warm cavern of your mouth. Tongues tangling, fingers carding through his hair to run blunt nails over his scalp. Feeling him twitch against your thigh making you smile into the kiss. Giving him two smaller kisses, “Now be a good boy and lay back for me while I show you heaven.” 

Groaning at your words, and doing as you ask, though he gives the thigh between yours one more flex, rubbing your slick folds again just to see you pause in your movements. The way you shutter around him and gasp out. He itch’s to grab you, rolling you under him or better yet tossing that other leg over his hips and thrusting home. Filling you so sweetly, so fully to make you forget about anything and anyone but him. Itching to hear you moan his name, whimper when he hits that perfect spot inside your tight cunt. That never fails to make your eyes roll back, his name a prayer on your kiss swollen lips. 

So, lost in his little fantasy that when you’ve made your way back down to his throbbing cock, he jumps at the first touch of your lips. Grunting as his hips jut off the mattress filling your mouth with his shaft. That makes Frankie curse, eyes rolling back when you suck on the crown, flicking that talented tongue over the slit and taking him back down. Placing both hands on his hips to hold him in place. Starting to fully bob up and down, tongue slithering around his shaft as little dribbles of spit slip from your lips wetting his skin. 

Forcing himself to open his eyes and look down, to watch his angel, looking so sweet and pure devouring his cock so sinfully. Mumbled words of Spanish, and English leave his lips, eyes locking with yours. He moves one hand down to brush over your hollowed cheek, downward to sweep over your neck and wrap around the back of your sulk helping you move along his shaft. Lewd moans and whimpers escape his panting lips. Only breaking eye contact when he feels the soft fabric of his robe brushing his thighs.  

What he finds nearly makes him cum right then, your soft breasts swaying, nipples peaked and begging for his attention. The soft swell of your tummy, the sight makes him whimper and press his head back against the pillows. “Hermosa please, so fucking good.” 

When you pull off, using one hand to keep pumping his cock, twisting your wrist, giving little squeezes. Slick from your mouth and his dribbled essence, the wet sounds making his head spin in need. “Please what my love? Want me to stop?” Biting your bottom lip knowing he doesn’t but also knowing what he really wants. 

“Fuck no,” low growl leaves his lips, head snapping up to stare at you. Eyes dropping to see the robe open even more your breasts spilling out making him lick his lips. Tracing an invisible path back to your desire darken eyes. Fingers giving his shaft another squeeze as they pump slower almost to a stop, though his hips have a mind of their own and thrust up into the circle of your fingers. He knows you want an answer he can’t seem to form right now with how innocent you look sitting there on your knees. Hand wrapped around his cock, all thought and blood surging to that one organ. Feeling the fading tingles up his spine, with the slacking of your movements. 

The dissipating high he wants, needs to chase, has the words tumbling from his mouth. “Want you mi amor, want that pretty mouth of yours wrapped around my cock making me cum.” His filthy words make you whimper feeling your cunt tremble and squeeze around nothing. “Please,” last word coming out on a gasp when your hand starts to pick up pace. 

Lowering yourself back between his legs, wrapping your mouth around him, starting a hard punishing pace that has his body bowing in pleasure. Hands gripping the sheets beneath you both, head pressing into the pillows show casing the thick tendons of his neck. Bolts of pleasure shooting through his veins he tries to raise up to watch but it’s all too much. Those tingles dancing up his spine, sac drawing up against his body your tongue swiftly swirling around his shaft with each bob of your head. Pressing one hand into his hip to keep you up right while the other works the part of him you can’t fit. Making sure to brush his sac each time your wrist moves down. 

Humming at the taste flooding your buds, eyes closing in bliss with each word he mutters the way your name is flows from his parted panting lips. Like a prayer to God though this kind is something He might ignore. Knowing Frankie is getting closer to his release, seeing the sweat slick his forehead and coat his chest. Picking up the subtle change in his deep voice, hands grasping at the sheets knowing it would be you he’s holding on to if he’d been inside you. The way his body is shuttering around you, the quick throbbing of that vein you trace repeatedly wanting him to fall. 

Pulling off with a lewd wet pop, “I’ve got you baby, let go for me I wanna taste you.” Moaning the words before wrapping your lips around the crown to suck harshly. Flattening your tongue on the underside while hollowing your cheeks again determined to draw his orgasm from his body. 

Smirking up at him hearing the words falling from his sinful lips. “Shit, carajo tan bueno. I’m not gonna last cariño,” hips thrusting up as the first tangy bits of his release touches your tongue. 

Humming happily while working quicker, hands and mouth working in tandem to make him lose control. Pleasure exploding behind his closed eyes, back arching off the bed as his control snaps. His essence flowing down your throat, and you take every bit you can swallowing around his sensitive shaft. Chest heaving, gasping for air to fill his lungs, body humming from his high. Another moan escaping, little twitches on your tongue as you pull off placing a sweet kiss to the crown before gently letting him go. Feeling his hands grabbing at you, pulling your up his body and crashing his mouth against yours. 

Licking the remains of his orgasm from your lips and thrusting his tongue into the cavern of your mouth to tangle and taste. Holding your body against his, one hand goes between the two of you to start undoing the sash holding the robe only partly closed. Pulling the soft terry cloth knot free and pushing it off one of your shoulders. Fingers dancing over your heated soft skin while his mouth takes control of the kiss dragging a moan from the deepest part of your being. Your own hands clutching at the sheets under you, gasping when those callused fingers tug at a nipple. Soothing the pain with gentle circles, cupping the generous globe in his palm to give a squeeze. 

Your body having a mind of its own, rocking against his, hips on either side of his waist as you lay over him. Shaking arms barely keep you up with hot desire flowing through your veins each brush and teasing touch of those skillful hands making you lose control, making you forget the position your in. Lungs burning in the best of ways making you gasp and break away. Resting your foreheads together, breathing in shared air, his hands having pulled the robe low as it’ll go with your arms pushed into the mattress. He flattens his hands on your back pressing you closer to draw his nose over your collarbone and neck. Running stubbled cheeks into the soft skin hearing you gasp that makes him smirk. Especially when he places his lips to your pulse flicking his tongue over the thumping vein drawing a whine from deep in your chest. 

His other hand coming to join the party by cupping your breast bringing the heavy globe to his lips and nibbling on your pebbled nipple. Biting down just that side of pain he knows you love and sure enough another moan leaves your lips. Lower body rocking against his needing to find the delicious friction as you clit throbs in need, cunt clinching nothing and wanting him deep inside you. 

Shrill alarm breaking the moment, making you groan in annoyance and dropping your head to his shoulder. Body shaking with need, breath escaping in small little gasps as his hands and mouth haven’t stopped working your body over. You gather enough strength to reach over and cut the offending piece of technology off tempted to toss it out the window. In favor of keeping Frankie in bed all day. 

“Frankie,” name groaned as you raise up, pulling your chest away from his mouth, making him pout. Small giggle leaving your lips at how cute he looks, “You have to get ready for work baby.” 

“Fuck work,” wrapping his arms around your back to hold you close and rolls the pair of you over so he’s hovering over you. “I rather much stay right here and take my time.” Staring into your eyes, his are smiling with those little crinkles at the corners. Reaching up to brush your fingers over the lines, he grabs your hand to bring it to his lips and kiss each finger. “If I remember rightly, I missed dessert last night,” smirking at your gasp when his a hand slip low brushing through your slick folds. “Well, I want it now.”

There’s a war going on inside you, caught between wanting those deliciously thick fingers inside you and conscious of the fact that the both of you need to get up to start the day. Once again, the opinions are taken from you as a little girl squeals in want from her room just a bit down the hall. This time it’s Frankie who groans while you giggle, pushing him from on top of you. To drop dramatically beside you, arm slung over his face. 

“Don’t worry flyboy you’ll get your dessert,” patting his chest as you lean over to steal a quick kiss before getting up. Pausing at the bed, “Unless my book boyfriend takes up my time tonight.” Giggling, you move quickly to avoid his hands grabbing for you. 

As he’s lunged up playfulness in his eyes though he tries to make them stern and annoyed, “He won’t get in my way of having my woman, hermosa.” Low teasing growl leaves his lips, feet landing on the floor as he stands to stalk towards you. Caught in his snare you take a step back feeling the cool wall against your skin having forgot to pull the robe over you. Shivering though not to from the air-conditioned cooled room, but from the feral look in those deep chocolate eyes that makes you clinch your thighs, whimpering softly. He stalks towards you, body on display for your eyes to roam and drool over wanting to take him up on that offer. A stray slice of golden light graces his form making him look like a Golden God in your eyes. That can’t seem to tear away from him, trapped but in a really good way, one that you don’t want to run from.   

Caging you in with his hands on either side of your head, Frankie leans in, breath ghosting over your ear, “Trust me sweetheart I will make you forget all about that book boyfriend. I’ll make it so you can’t walk for a week and mark every inch of this gorgeous body that belongs to me.” Moving so that your eyes are locked, one hand dropping to wrap around your waist and pull your almost naked body against his. Draping a leg over his hip as he slides that large hand over your waist and down to cup your ass. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to remember your name then make love to you as you scream mine for the neighbors to hear.” Leaning in to brush his lips over yours with a tenderness that underscores the possessive tone, “You’re mine mi Vida, and I don’t share.” 

Swallowing hard trying to gather what moisture you can as all of it seems to have headed south, dripping from your fluttering folds and pulsing clit. Hands wrapped around the back of his neck to hold on cause you’re sure the moment he lets you go you’ll melt into a puddle of sexually frustrated goo. “That’s,” licking your dry lips seeing him watch your tongue. Smirking inside at the knowledge you have the same power over him. “That’s a tall order my love you sure you’re up to the challenge?” teasingly stated while your fingers card through his curls giving a light tug. Mischief sparking in your eyes as an idea conjures up for tonight. 

“You testing me hermosa?” seeing you nod, his eyes close another low growl this one sounding more dangerous than the last. Only serving to fuel your desire for him. 

He’s such a contradiction, caught between sweet caring gentleman that holds your hand when you’re scared and opens the door for you. Kisses your forehead and makes his famous hot chocolate on those days you’re not feeling yourself. To a sexual beast who’s single desire is to make you cum as many times on his tongue, fingers and cock that he can draw out of you. Whispering the filthiest things in your ear, some as he blushes making him all the more adorably cute and sexy at the same time. Then back to the tender, humble man you fell in love with and couldn’t see yourself without. 

Thoughts interrupted by a swat to your ass, reminding you to answer, “Yes flyboy, I wanna see if you can make good on those plans.” 

“Don’t worry mi amor I’ll remind you,” leaning in to give you the sweetest, softest kiss you’ve ever had. Making your heart flutter with love. Pulling back, “Just make sure you know what you’re getting into,” carefully letting you go, making sure that your steady on your weak legs then stepping away. Giving you a soft smile before turning to head into the bathroom. 

Licking your lips, “I hate to see you go Frankie baby but I fucking love to watch you leave.” Pushing away from the wall, retying the robe to cover your body you let your eyes linger on him for a moment longer then head to Isabella who’s jumping and fussing wanting up and breakfast. 

Missing the hardy belly laugh that Frankie lets out at hearing your remark, shaking his head while starting the shower and getting ready for another day at work.  

To Part Two

[psychedelic-ink]

Hi! I have time to talk.

I've a lot of things to say. First: what's the current TV show you watch? I'm watching CSI NY for the second time because it helps me to write fics in English even if the show is dubbed in french.

What's the last movie you watched? I went to the theatre for "Top Gun: Maverick" with my lil bro.

I have so many ideas, sometimes I'm trapped in my own mind.

Nice to meet you btw 🤗

hiiii 💞💞💞

alright currently I'm binging Narcos (with a side of the mandalorian i have three eps left to finishing it!) and the reason I love it is actually because it reminds me of the time when I was little and watched a ton of CSI, Law & Order, criminal minds and other crime tv shows 👀 I would def recommended tho it is based on true events and gets very intense so beware 💀

I think...actually the last movie I watched was in secret which is a movie based off the novel Therese Raquin, after that I read the book and it's absolutely amazing and much better then the movie 💕 tho I have been wanting to watch the star wars movies and triple frontier for the longest time 😭

how was top gun:maverick?? did you like it? I keep seeing posts around

it's easy to get trapped in your own mind, I'm currently kinda the same the struggle's real lmaodfvfdv

and it's nice to meet you too!!!

[wyn-n-tonic]

is the benny Miller fic u were writing no longer going to be on tumblr?

if you mean Finds a Way then no, i'm sorry. Finds a Way was an original concept first and foremost and was meant to be published as a serialization through Kindle Vella just because i wanted to dabble in it and see if that was a good platform for me. i got in my own head about and i decided not to do that and i changed the story to be a fanfiction about Benny (because he fit the character of Michael so well) and i scrapped Samantha from being an actual character and made her a reader insert so... you. i figured if it failed as a fanfiction then it wouldn't hurt as bad as it would if it failed as an actual searchable and buyable thing. but after i had a talk with a friend who i'm always a bit afraid is annoyed with the amount of times i tag her, i decided to just go for my original plan. see what works for me and experiment.

anyway, if it's a story you would still be interested in reading, you can find it HERE on Kindle Vella which is currently a US only based platform but i think it'll be expanding soon. the first three episodes are free to view and read. episode four and onwards after that will be buyable through Vella Coins. i think it's like two bucks for 200 coins and each episode costs up to like 50 coins (i think that's the cap?) but it's a sliding scale based on word count (because if all episodes cost 50 coins and everybody just uploaded 600 word installments, that would be fucking rude).

if it's not something you're interested in, that's totally cool too. there's tons of great authors on here writing for the Triple Frontier boys. i think we all know @charnelhouse is my favorite.

[pintsizemama]

Writer Interview

Thanks for the tag @just-here-for-the-moment. This was fun!

How many works do you have on AO3?

13 right now…many more to come

What’s your total AO3 word count?

107, 725…Holy Shit! I have way more written that’s not posted yet, but crap, that’s a lot!!! Heroes & Heartbreak just hit 93K—but I’ve only posted a little over 60K.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Narcos (Javier Peña)

The Mandalorian (Din Djarin)

Equalizer 2 (Dave York)

Kingsman Golden Circle (Jack Daniels)

Triple Frontier (Frankie Morales & poly with all 4 boys)

We Can Be Heroes (Marcus Moreno)

The Mentalist (Marcus Pike)

Criminal Minds—Mentalist crossover (Marcus Pike)

Bloodsucking Bastards (Max Phillips)

Wonder Woman 1984 (Maxwell Lord)

Marvel—DC Crossover (Maxwell Lord, Loki, Bucky Barnes)

Game of Thrones (Oberyn Martell)

Lights Out (Omar Assarian)

The Great Wall (Pero Tovar)

Red Widow (Jay Castillo)

Nikita (Liam)

The Good Wife (Nathan Landry)

The Fall of Sam Axe (Comandante Veracruz)

Brother’s & Sisters (Zach Wellison)

Suicide Squad (Rick Flag)—coming soon!

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

A Little Rusty

The Unexpected Lunch Date

Heroes & Heartbreak

The Ride

Oops

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes…though sometimes I feel like my genuine excitement and appreciation doesn’t always come through on my responses…I feel like a generic dork…but I do love and appreciate everyone who reads and comments on my work, so I always want to let them know I noticed that they took the time to comment. It means the world to me!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

None of them have ended yet…I don’t enjoy unhappy endings though, so I doubt there will be many!

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Yes—I have my Marvel/DC crossover, but I’m working on a Marcus Pike/Criminal Minds one…not sure if I’ll ever get back to that one though.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not yet, and I hope I never do…let’s be nice to each other, please. It takes a lot of courage to put your work out there…respect that. If you don’t like something, keep scrolling.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes…all the smut! I write anything and everything. Though I guess I’m now known as the “Queen of Squirting”…so there’s that. Lol

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. Don’t do that. Seriously. That is so fucked up it’s not even funny. Write your own shit or move on. Don’t steal someone else’s hard work.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but that would be cool. Side note—I would DIE of happiness if someone made fanart for my work!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet, but I did get a TON of requests to collaborate with some others on Tumblr…so maybe one day soon! @anaaaispunk was requested like 8 times! LOL

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Hmm…I don’t know. I might have to think about this one more.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

My Marcus Pike crossover with Criminal Minds

What are your writing strengths?

I feel like my dialogue is spot on…it sounds very realistic and natural. I’m getting better at smut too. It was weird as hell to write at first, but I got a system now, and it’s made a big difference.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Whew…transitions, too many italics, too many adverbs…descriptive writing/imagery…lots of stuff to keep working on. But that’s one of the reasons I write everyday. Practices makes perfect…or, well, in my case, practice makes your writing sound better. LOL

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Absolutely. When the story calls for it, I do it. Though I do warm people when I’m not fluent in said language, and I welcome constructive criticism and help to make it more authentic.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Narcos (Javier Peña)

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

OOoooh…that’s like asking which child is my favorite! I LOVE Heroes & Heartbreak. I’m also working on an Omar Assarian series and a Jay Castillo series that I adore. My Marcus Moreno A/B/O is hot too…fuck, I can’t choose just one! I love them all!

[writefightandflightclub]

Hiya!

First Dates is getting some love again lately- thank you so much! 🙏

If you’re new to my page, and came after reading that particular Frankie fic (which has more notes than anything I have or will ever write, probably; gonna go right ahead and guess I peaked, lol) then HELLO! 😊👋 Nice to have you here! 😆

Assuming you’re here for Pedro, you can find all my Pedro character stories here (Frankie, Din, and Whiskey for now, and Javi coming soon).

If I can interest you in any of my other wares *opens trench coat* I also have a ton of Oscar Isaac character stories and would be delighted to tempt you with those. There’s a smattering of other Triple Frontier, Star Wars, and Marvel content too. They’re all at the same link, aside from my Poe Dameron masterlsit in my bio. He was my main man when I arrived here so has his own list, just as he deserves 😁

If you’d like to know anything else about me or my writing please just ask! 😁

Also, I’m taking blurb requests rn so feel free to drop in to my ask box - for that, or any other reason! 🧡 I’d love to hear from you!

Also a heads up that this page is 18+ and so minors should not follow or interact- thank you in advance for respecting this.

Luna 🌝