Frankie Morales Fanfic - Tumblr Posts

THANK YOU FOR TAGGING ME IN THIS! Ugh, how I have missed them since reading Endurance 😭❤️ This is the best way to start my Frankie Friday

Hi Al!

I'm back with my Ask games again!

This time we have a spring based prompts theme. You get a spring prompt and a character and I'd like to know your head canon/immediate thoughts on the combination.

Character: Frankie Morales

Prompt: cherry blossom

With love,

El

Hi El,

Well this took me bloody ages, but thank you so much for the ask as it set of my brain into a Frankie ✨whirlwind ✨

It inspired a little drabble for the 1940’s Pilot Frankie from my mini series Endurance

It’s pure fluff!

Much love 🖤

Cherry Blossom (580 words)

1940’s Pilot Frankie x f!reader

London, 1948

Frankie dreams of cherry blossoms. On the nights when he’s not awake because of the nightmares, or swaying the baby gently to sleep, he dreams of cherry blossoms drifting through the breeze and catching in your hair.

Of course, cherry blossoms will always make him think of you, those pink petals had been blowing in the wind when he’d first caught sight of you in the Blythe House cottage garden, furious at the wet sheet you were trying to hang on the line that was escaping your grasp.

The sky had been permanently grey the spring of 1944, as if the war had sucked up all the joy and colour, leaving the world in sepia tone. But the pink of the blossom had valiantly tried to remain, despite the constant rain, despite the thick clouds that obscured the sunlight.

There had been a scowl on your beautiful face, mouth set in a hard line as you’d scrambled to catch the sheet. You’d glared at him and he’d known then he was lost forever. He’d never jumped a wall faster.

Today he breaths in the clear, fresh spring air and lets it fill his lungs. Drinking in the promise of longer evenings, blue skies and walks in the park under the London blossoms with his ladies. That’s what he calls you, his little family, the ladies.

Exactly a year ago, you had walked through this very park, Santi in his best suit, holding out his arm to Hannah so she could link with him. She kept repeating that she was ‘so proud’ to be on the arm of such a handsome man, her sweet Scottish burr making Santi preen at the compliments and suggesting to her perhaps he needed to go north of the boarder to find a ‘nice British wife like Frankie’.

You were just married, a wedding procession from the registry office back to your shared house in Belgravia. You’d insisted on walking, wanted to stroll through the blossoms as husband and wife, finally, and let your daughter Theo run ahead excitedly. So pretty in her bridesmaid dress, inherited from one of your little sisters, silk sash around her tummy and wild flowers threaded into her chocolate coloured curls so carefully by Hannah. The mirror image of Frankie… just a different name on her birth certificate.

It was under a cherry tree where he’d first realised he loved you. Stolen kisses in the dark, a hunger that couldn’t be sated that night. He still can’t believe he gets to call you his, that fate had bought him back to you. You were the light that he kept burning bright, even in the darkest of days in occupied France.

He can’t stop the nightmares, the memories that refuse to leave, whispers in the dark of what might have been, what was for so many. But waking up next to you, being able to pull you close and breathe in your scent, taste the salt on your skin, it means he’s alive.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

As you walk through the park, his hand is threaded through yours, you lean into him and press a kiss into his cheek. As is your want, as is your right, now you’re just another married couple walking through the trees and admiring the first signs of spring.

“One year married Lady, who’d have thought.”

“It feels like a dream Frankie.”

Blossoms swirl through the air as Frankie meets your eyes, so much said with just one look, before he takes the breath right out of you with a soft kiss.

Oh! I love this so much!!! 😍

what have I done

pairing: frankie x f!reader word count: 4,050 warnings: angst, piv, wrap it up folks, there's an established relationship of sorts here so it's already been discussed, reader has no physical descriptions. summary: you finally realise what frankie means to you, but is it too late? ao3: linked

what have I done.

Now wasn’t the time to be self-conscious. 

Clutching your phone in your hand and trying to peer around the crowds of people huddled in line for security you looked desperately for his familiar frame. You didn't have a ticket, the impulse of your decision meant the airport’s barricades were as close as you were going to get.

The security clearance lineup was busy despite the hour. You fought to focus as the crowd swayed and jostled. The sound of luggage wheels clicking on the tiled floor bled into the noise of early morning conversations, some excited for the journey ahead some tired already of the grind of work ahead. Anxious anticipation pulsated through you, urging you to continue searching through the sea of faces as you bounced on the balls of your feet.

You were almost ready to give up, turn on your heel and head home. But with a break in the crowd, so small and so quick, there was no mistaking that glimpse of his silhouette. His broad shoulders, his unruly mop of hair - everything. 

He stood near the security checkpoint, emptying the contents of his pockets into one of the grey plastic trays that he'd plucked from the stack beside him. He appeared calm amidst the chaos that surrounded him.

Yet panic flooded your chest, and heat prickled under your skin. 

It was now or never. 

Steeling yourself you clenched your hands into fists. Your nails dug into the flesh at the heel of your hands. The sting ran up your arms and it gave you a reprieve from the worry of your nerves. 

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. 

Before you could think it over any longer and before the nerves won out and had you walking back to the short-term parking lot. You shouted his name as loud as you could to be heard over the thrum of the airport's buzz. 

Then the world around you fell still. 

Hush swept over the security lineup. There was a shared intake of breath that seemed to take place between you and those around you. Your heart, beating so hard and so fast, it was the only thing you could hear as the thud thud thud pounded in your ears. 

Frankie’s head snapped up, his eyes searching until they locked onto yours. The shock on his face was palpable, mirrored by the surprise of those in line who turned to see the cause of the commotion.

For a moment, you were frozen, the gap between you feeling like an insurmountable distance. Then, impulsively, Frankie stepped out of line, leaving his belongings behind. The security guard called out to him, but he quickly threw back a plea of few words but didn’t hesitate, his focus entirely on you, surprised to see you there.

As he approached, you noticed the uncertainty in his eyes, a vulnerability that you hadn’t seen in him before. It was as if he was bracing himself for rejection, yet couldn’t stop himself from hoping.

When he was finally in front of you, the noise of the airport faded into the background. It was just the two of you.

The moment stretched, suspended in time. People around you resumed their activities, but the two of you remained locked in a silent exchange. You saw the questions in his eyes, the confusion. For he had bared his feelings to you, and in response, you had offered quiet and uncertainty.

“You're here,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

You nodded, struggling to find the words that had seemed so clear earlier that morning. The epiphany of waking up alone, with only the company of Frankie's admission of his feelings for you, a ghost that lingered in the still of the room. The house was quiet, with no familiar sound of the coffee maker or socked feet padding down the hallway - noises that had become a comfort in the past days of his most recent visit. 

You had been caught off guard by his declaration of love.

But you would be lying if you said you hadn't expected it was there. Hiding in plain sight this whole time. Bubbling under the surface, on the tip of his tongue on more than one occasion. Each time you'd suspected he was going to say something, you'd swiftly changed the subject or found a way to leave the room leaving him hanging with unspoken words in a state of confusion. 

But it was easier that way, safer. The occasional fooling around after a few drinks, the sudden bursts of affection that you both indulged in, those were manageable. It was a dance you had become skilled at, the art of keeping things casual, of never allowing yourself to be vulnerable. Those moments were pockets of escape from the realities of your lives, was an arrangement that worked for both of you.

At least you had thought it had.

It seemed that while you were comforting yourself with quiet ignorance of your feelings, Frankie was growing more confident in his feelings for you.

“I–” you started faltering, stumbling awkwardly over your words rethinking everything you had planned to say on the drive to the airport. 

It had been so much easier, formulating the words, reciting the monologue in your head. You'd been piecing together from the moment you'd left your home. But now, standing in front of Frankie it all felt like it wasn't enough.

The weight of your silence hung heavy in the air, and Frankie's hopeful expression began to waver. His eyes flickered with a mix of disappointment and resignation as if he had braced himself for this outcome. You could see the gears turning in his mind, preparing for rejection, the flicker of hurt in his eyes.

But then, something inside you shifted.

The fear of losing him, the realization of your true feelings, it all peaked at that very moment. It was after all what had jolted you out of bed. Caused you to frantically search for some half-decent clothes and your car keys before racing out of the door.

You finally found your voice, though quiet and cracked, “I'm sorry.”

Frankie's face fell, and the small hope that had flickered in his eyes extinguished. He took a step back, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of your apology had physically pushed him away.

“I thought…” he trailed off, his voice barely audible.

You reached out, your hand trembling as you gently touched his arm. “No, Frankie, let me finish,” you pleaded, desperation creeping into your voice. “I'm sorry for not saying anything earlier. I'm sorry for not acknowledging what,” you gestured at the space between the both of you frantically, “this is.”

Frankie's eyes filled with a mix of hope and apprehension. He reached out tentatively, as if afraid you might disappear if he touched you too forcefully. His fingers brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

You sighed, “I'm fucking this up, this all sounded a lot better in my head on the way over here.”

Frankie's lips twitched into a small smile, the vulnerability in his eyes gradually replaced by promise. “It's okay,” he said softly, his voice filled with understanding. “I've been fucking this up too.”

You stared at him, your mind aswirl with both relief and confusion. “What do you mean?” you asked.

Before he could answer you, a voice over the loudspeaker announced the final boarding call for his flight. The moment was interrupted, the reality of the situation setting in. Frankie glanced back towards the security checkpoint, the impatient TSA agents waiting on him, torn.

You took a deep breath, knowing what you had to say. “Go, catch your flight. We’ll figure this out, I promise.”

He looked at you, a myriad of emotions crossing his face. After a moment, he nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Okay. We can figure this out together, right?”

“Sure,” you assured him as you took his hand in yours, giving it a firm squeeze.

He looked down at your joined hands and then with one last lingering look at you, Frankie turned and hurried back to his belongings, rushing through security.

You stood watching long after his head had disappeared out of view. Suddenly the departure of Frankie and the void of not knowing whatever this was now between the two of you. Whatever evolution had taken place in those split seconds had created a void, taking you out of the comfort of what you were and into something unfamiliar, something you felt you'd never get to experience again - something you didn't think you deserved.

Pulling the sleeves of your cardigan down over your hands for comfort, you tucked yourself away from the crowds and the flow of pedestrian traffic that had picked up flooding the security lineup. Your head was spinning, replaying the fleeting conversation. Such a small interaction that carried such a heavy weight that settled on your shoulders and made it harder for you to catch your breath for fear of tears.

As you made it back to your car, dodging the reuniting couples in arrivals, and happy families walking hand in hand back to the parking lot the reality of what had happened started to sink in. It wasn't about casual flings or unspoken feelings anymore. Frankie had revealed his heart to you, and you'd reciprocated, albeit in a clumsy manner.

The drive home didn't help, the journey feeling like it took twice as long. Each passing mile only made the void feel bigger, the hollow of your chest ache more. You'd just figured out what you wanted and now he was gone. The silence of the car, unable to bear the sound of the radio, amplified the cacophony of thoughts running through your mind.

Pulling into your driveway you grabbed your phone from the passenger seat and glanced at the screen.

A text message from Frankie.

Your heart skipped a beat, in conflict with the dread that you felt at the pit of your stomach. You unlocked the phone and read the message. It was short, quintessential Frankie, but held so much promise.

Two weeks.

It was exactly two weeks later when you felt the warmth of his body slip into the bed beside you. Arms around your waist pulling you into an embrace that brought his name to your lips whispered in quiet reverence in the silence of the night. 

Frankie.

The key you had pressed into his hand at the airport, your spare key, he had used it to let himself in at that late hour. Unable to entertain the notion of waiting to see you any later than that very moment. The darkness of the room enveloped you both as Frankie held you tightly, his breath warm against your neck.

For the past two weeks, communication between the two of you had been limited to sporadic phone calls and text messages as you negotiated work schedules and time zones. It was a constant dance of longing and uncertainty, as you both navigated the intricacies of your newfound connection. But now, with Frankie lying next to you, all the doubts and anxieties melted away.

You turned in his arms, burying your face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent you had missed so desperately.

Frankie kissed your forehead softly, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “I couldn't stay away any longer,” he murmured.

“That's what the key was for,” you responded as you nuzzled yourself into the crook of his neck.

His laughter rumbled through his chest, the sound vibrating against your cheek. “Even without it, I'd still have found a way in, I know where you keep the spare.”

The silence of the room, filled only by your shared breathing was a comfort. His fingers traced circles on your back as a contented sigh escaped your lips as you revelled in the warmth of his embrace. 

“I missed you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His grip tightened around you as if trying to convey just how much he had missed you too. 

He dropped a kiss to your shoulder, his stubble grazed at your collarbone and despite the rough feel of it against your skin, you shrugged your shoulder into him to encourage him further. Groaning at the loss of his lips against your skin you looked up and against everything that was you, you pouted.

Another laugh escaped Frankie's lips, he pulled you tight to him, his lips finding yours for the first time since the airport. The night was late, and the room dark, but behind your eyes which fell closed in delight at the touch of his lips to yours, there were floods of colour bursting forth.

It was a moment that was equally suspended in time as it was filled with urgency. The anticipation that had built over the last two let go with the held breath you'd been holding onto since you left him letting way for those unspoken feelings you had spent so long pushing down. Every touch, every kiss was wave after wave pushing out the doubts and fears that had lingered in the depths of your mind.

Looking him in the eyes, you reached up and cupped the side of his face with your hand. He stilled, his arms caging you in on either side of your shoulders. The moonlight that slipped through the gap of the gauzy curtains cast shadows over the room but a slither hit his face and the warmth of his dark brown eyes radiated more than you could put into words. At that moment, you wondered what you had done to deserve something like this, someone like Frankie. 

You traced the outline of his lips with your thumb, savouring the tenderness of the moment. 

You lifted your gaze to meet his, examining his eyes for any hint of uncertainty or reluctance. Yet, all you saw was an abundance of love and unwavering determination. It was evident, without a doubt, that the past two weeks apart had only solidified his beliefs.

As he leaned down to capture your lips, you held your breath in anticipation. You weren't sure what you had done to earn the care and attention of the man above you, 

but you were grateful beyond words. His kiss was gentle yet passionate, a perfect blend of longing and tenderness. It felt like coming home after a long journey, like finding the missing piece of yourself that you never even knew was lost.

Frankie pulled you into a warm embrace, your heart skipped a beat. He smelled the same as always, faintly sweet with a hint of warm spice. His arms wrapped around you pulling him closer to him. Your hand rested on his chest, you could feel his heart racing, as was yours. The warmth of his breath danced across your neck sending shivers down your spine.

Your fingers, without even thinking about it, laced into the curls at the nape of his neck and tugged eliciting a growl from him as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, taking in the scent of your skin. He kissed you there. Softly and slowly before trailing more kisses down to your collarbone.

A moan escaped your lips as he nipped at the sensitive skin. Goosebumps rose on your arms and involuntarily you arched your back to give him more access, inviting him to continue. His hands slid up and down your sides, tracing the contours of your body underneath the thin fabric of the t-shirt you wore.

His kisses moved up your shoulder, to the crook of your neck, and your ear before meeting your lips in a tender but passionate kiss. His lips were soft and demanding all at once making your head spin as he explored yours patiently.

With his mouth on yours, you could taste familiarity on his lips. But it was mixed with something new - something that hadn't existed between the two of you before. It was intoxicating and made you quickly lose yourself in the moment completely. 

He paused for a moment, his breath lingering at your ear as he whispered, “God, I want you more than anything. This is real isn't it,” you heard the waiver in his voice, the disturbance of confidence, the genuine fear that possibly you might have changed your mind, “I don't know if I could be okay if this isn't it.”

You tucked an errant curl behind his ear, you knew he'd be alright without you. That he could go on. But the difference now was that you couldn't imagine going on without him. It wasn't just physical, though the last two weeks had been torturous, you'd missed the way his touch set your skin on fire and his kisses were enough to make you forget everything. It was more than that. It was the way he was able to see through you, through the walls you built up. He got you in a way that no one else before him had.

You inhaled deeply, feeling like you were standing on the edge of a cliff. Your heart raced with anticipation and your body was unsure whether to fight or flee. You were a work in progress, and changing habits overnight was not an option. But what was not in question, was your feelings for the man above you.

“It's real Frankie,” you managed a nod, “it's real,” you whispered as your fingers traced the curve of his shoulder, his bicep and forearm where your fingers found his and entwined together.

“Tell me,” he murmured hoarsely as his forehead dropped to touch yours, “tell me what I can do.”

Something about his request made your heart swell over with love for him again. This was Frankie, he wanted to know, to do, whatever it would take for you to feel safe, loved and at home in his arms. Swallowing you tilted your head so you could get a better look at him. Just enough so you could take in his face basking in the moonlight. His eyes were dark beneath the shadows, traces of darker circles hinting that the last two weeks hadn't been as placid as he'd made them out to be. His eyes and his face were set with serious concern - but his lips, they were turned up in a soft smile as he watched you think.

It was sweet and maybe a little adorable at the same time. It was also taking everything in you not to kiss him again. Instead, you smiled back at him, “I just want you, Frankie, just you. All of you.”

His lips crashed into yours and you felt something start to knit together inside of you. He wasn't going to fix you, you didn't need him to, but something about the acknowledgement of your feelings for him was soothing. His mouth and hands moved with urgency. He rolled onto his side, bringing you with him, his lips never leaving yours. His one hand cupped the side of your face, while the other tugged the t-shirt you slept in up and over your hips.

His fingers greedy, in one swift move he’d pulled your panties aside and sunk his fingers into your already waiting folds and the two of you moaned at the sensation. You at the feel of those calloused fingers working their way to curl and tease you. Him at the feeling of your warmth and receptive sounds you made as he found a rhythm that had the two of you humming with electricity.

“God, you feel good, Frankie,” you breathed out, arching your back again in response to his touch, which pushed his fingers just that bit deeper, just that bit further that had you biting your lip in anticipation of what more was to come.

He wrenched his lips from yours for a moment, only to kiss down along to your collarbone and the hollow of your throat, his nose nudging at your jaw tilting your head up, his breath hot against your skin and despite the warmth that coursed through your belly, you couldn't help but shiver.

“Tell me, baby,” he murmured, his voice raspy as he nipped at your jaw, his teeth sinking softly into your bottom lip, just enough to elicit a satisfying moan at the delightful sting.

You gasped as he drew his fingers out slowly as he continued to tease with a slowed pace that filled you with an ache that left you needing more. Your hips buckled with the need for him to sink his fingers back in, but he was on to your move and pulled away further despite your moaned pleas. 

You watched as his eyes locked onto yours, the hunger evident within them. A shiver ran down your spine again as he slowly traced a path with his fingers down your arm, your side, and over your hip, as he pushed your panties down and off of your legs despite him now pressing you into the mattress. You felt his breath against your skin as he leaned in to whisper, "Are you ready for me?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you nodded, unable to speak past the lump that formed in your throat in anticipation. His lips met yours in a soft kiss that was in conflict with the want and need that had built up between you. Frankie's name was a soft caress on your lips as he positioned himself between your legs, the warmth of his body enveloping you.

In that moment, you knew that this was something real. Something that felt like it was meant to be. The anticipation of what was to come left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest as if it couldn't wait any longer. As he sunk into you, that moment of connection you knew it, this was the feeling you'd been pushing aside all those other times. Keeping it to just fast and dirty sex, no feelings, but this? This right here? This was a whole other level of intimacy between the two of you. It was no longer just about the physical need, but the emotional connection that had long been brewing deep between the two of you.

Your breath hitched as his hips found their rhythm, and your hands tangled in his hair, the knot twisting tighter and tighter.

“Frankie,” you moaned, your voice breaking as your climax neared.

His eyes never wavered from yours, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half smile as he picked up the rhythm, the heat and tightness of your body driving him further to the edge.

The way his voice had grown more tender, the way his lips brushed softly against your skin, the way his hands sought to touch and hold you closer with every passing moment. It wasn’t long until his name was a sweet plea on your lips as yours on his as your orgasm crashed over you. His pace didn’t falter and continued in his rhythm until he too found his release. His rhythm faltered for just a moment before he came to a stop, his forehead pressed against yours before he collapsed to the side of you.

Your breaths ragged and hearts pounding in your chests, your thighs pressed together as the aftershocks of your orgasm echoed through your body. He kissed the side of your neck, his breath warm and heavy against your skin.

“You okay?” he murmured, his gravelled voice full of concern.

You nodded, finally finding your voice and replied, “I’m good,” you pressed your lips to his in a slow, lazy kiss.

He smiled against your lips, relief washing over his face. “I was scared I'd fucked this up.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you murmured, stroking his hair.

The silence was a blanket over the two of you in the quiet of the room. Everything had shifted and yet somehow everything still felt familiar, like coming home. There was no returning to the way things were, the line was crossed. While two weeks ago you weren’t exactly sure you wanted this kind of connection, now you weren’t sure you could ever let him go.

Love me a desperate Frankie 😍

heaven's a thing | frankie morales x f!reader

masterlist | frankie masterlist | kofi | follow @swiftispunkupdates and turn on notifications for updates

pairing: sub!frankie morales x female!reader rating: 18+ explicit word count: ~2k

summary: frankie loves when you go away for work. or, actually - he loves what you have planned for him when you come home. warnings etc: porn with absolutely no plot, smut, d/s dynamics, mami kink, orgasm denial, implied edging, sub!frankie, soft dom!reader, bondage, sexting, a sprinkling of humiliation kink, oral (m receiving), cum eating + sharing, unprotected piv sex, overstimulation, nipple play, hypothetical lactation kink (dw about it), we're biting the boy, pet names, reader wears lingerie, aftercare, frankie pov. no use of y/n.

a/n: not beta'd, we die like men. happy national catfish day to my favourite soldier. bye bye!

PART ONE | PART TWO

Frankie loves it when you go out of town for work.

Well–no. That’s not really true. 

When you’re gone, he feels like half a person, like huge chunks of his heart have been torn apart by shrapnel and the earth beneath his feet is one misstep away from turning to quicksand under his toes.

But if you never went away, he’d never get to know how good it feels when you finally come back. 

And anyway, you never really leave him without some sort of structure to uphold. You know what he needs. 

You can edge but don’t come. 

Send me a picture of that pretty cock.

Strip. Wait for me on the chair in the bedroom. Don’t touch. Mami will be home soon. 

That last one had just come over an hour ago now. He thinks. He’s lost track of time, if he’s honest, waiting for you on the kitchen chair you’d left in the middle of his room before you’d gone away. Naked, just like you’d asked.

Another forty-five minutes pass and now he knows you’re just torturing him on purpose. The realization only makes him harder. 

He’s aching by the time he hears your key turn in the lock downstairs.

“Hello?” you call, a knowing lilt in your voice.

“Up here,” Frankie replies hoarsely. 

Frankie listens–as best he can with all the blood rushing in his ears–to your slow, deliberate movements in the entryway. You take your time slipping off your coat and shoes, ascending the stairs one step at a time, stopping in the hallway bathroom on your way toward his bedroom just to keep him on the edge that much longer. 

When you finally find him, he knows he must look wrecked. Sweat beaded across his bare chest, cock hard and leaking against his heaving stomach. You’ve changed, donning some black lingerie number he’s not sure he’s seen before. He feels like he could come at just the sight of you, but you wouldn’t like that, so he doesn’t. 

Some mixture of desperation and missing you makes tears sprout in his eyes though, and then you smile at him all proud and a broken little sob escapes his throat.

“Hey, mami,” he breathes. 

Frankie watches you saunter into the room, closer and closer until you’re hinging at the waist and taking his face in your hands and then finally, finally kissing. He sighs into your parted lips, feeding you his tongue with a feverish kind of eagerness. You suck it between your teeth, comb your fingers back through his hair, gently scratching a path down the nape of his neck, along his arms down to his wrists. You stop there, gathering his hands behind the back of the chair and smiling against his lips when you swallow his responding gasp. You’re still kissing him as you effortlessly bind his wrists together with something soft and silky. 

When you’re done, you rest your palms on his thighs and sink your nails into his flesh and Frankie’s brain goes all fuzzy and hot. 

“Hi, baby,” you hum. You flick your tongue across his lips and Frankie shudders, cranes to catch your mouth again. But you pull back too soon–just out of reach.

“Ah-ah,” you chide him with a smirk. “You’ve been so patient, Frankie. Don’t spoil it now.”

“Sorry,” he chokes. The last thing he’s gunning for right now is a punishment. Any other day maybe, but not today. “Sorry, mami. Just missed you.”

You hum, bending to connect your lips to his sticky chest, inhaling deeply. And he senses it there, in the way you breathe him in with a contented little sigh; behind all your patience and unwavering control…he knows you missed him too.

“You look so pretty,” you whisper, just before you bite down on one of his nipples.

Frankie yelps, arching in place in search of more. You just giggle, unperturbed as you press his hips back down into his seat and draw a line with your tongue up his neck to his ear. 

“Were you a good boy while I was gone, baby?” you ask. Your fingers inch towards his cock, so close now. He’s panting like a fucking dog, can feel warmth spreading across his cheeks and chest. But you’re not done torturing him yet.

“Yes,” he vows, and it’s true. “I didn’t come. Waited for you.”

“I know,” you smile. You nip on his ear lobe and his dick pulses between your bodies. “‘Cause you’d tell me if you did, wouldn’t you? Good boys don’t lie, do they, Frankie?”

“No, mami.” He’s squirming now, can’t help it. You let him. “I swear. Please.”

His plea slips out before he can think any better of it. You’re just so fucking close to touching him and he missed you so much and he’s been aching to come for three long, lonely days and he can’t wait any longer, he can’t–

“Oh, poor boy,” you tut, mocking him with a pout to match his own as you sink to the floor between his legs. He can feel your breath on his cock and it makes goosebumps sprout across his thighs. 

“Look at you,” you muse, stealing his breath as you drag the tip of one finger along his throbbing length. You laugh and Frankie whines. “So hard for mami. I need you to hold on just a little longer for me, though. Okay?”

You don’t wait for him to agree. 

You’re toying with him, circling the wet head of his cock with your thumb, tracing patterns along his shaft, every movement featherlight and slow and so fucking cruel. 

Then you ghost your lips over the space just above his balls and Frankie fucking weeps. Your tongue mimics the patterns you’d drawn with your finger, a torturous up and down and up and down that sears his skin and sets his nerve endings on fire. 

“Fuck,” he whimpers, resisting the urge to writhe. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. If he behaves you’ll give him more. If he behaves you’ll let him come. 

But you haven’t told him to stay quiet, so…he talks.

“Missed your mouth so fucking much, mami,” he rambles while you offer him barely more than fleeting kitten licks. “Missed your tongue–fuck–you’re so good to me. Make me feel so fucking good. Wanna give you all my cum, mami, want you to see how good I was. Waited–I fucking waited.”

You chuckle against him, moving to take one of his heavy balls in your mouth. 

“Did you save it all for me, baby boy?” you ask. “All this cum in here–that’s all for me?”

You swirl your tongue around his balls, sucking at him lightly before popping them out from between your wet lips. 

“Yeah,” Frankie groans. You smile up at him, holding his needy stare, and then at last, you wrap your fingers around his length.

“Yeah,” he repeats brokenly, crumbling before your eyes as you patiently start to stroke him in long, easy movements. “Yeah, mami, fuck–”

His head falls back behind him while you pump and pump and pump him, not in any rush at all.

“Look at me, Francisco,” you instruct him after several long moments of blissful torture. 

His head snaps up at once, but he quickly regrets it.

Your other hand is buried between your thighs and you’ve pulled your bra to the side, revealing one hardened nipple for him. He wants to bite it. 

He’s going to come. 

“Oh, fuck–are you touching your pussy, mami?” he asks in a flurry.

“Mhmm.”

He forgets whatever he’d been going to say next because then your mouth is on him again, pressing wet kisses to every inch of his cock. You focus your fist upwards, stroking him faster now, harder. 

You’re trying to make him come. 

“Mami, please, fuck, I’m so close–I can’t–”

“Shhh,” you breathe against him. “You can, mi cielo. You can come. My good boy. Show mami all that cum.”

You keep talking like that until he breaks, his pent-up orgasm shattering through all his disciplined resolve. His vision blurs as hot cum spurts from him wildly, painting his stomach and his thighs, your fist and your face. You giggle and moan at the needy sounds he makes, the way he just keeps coming even when he’s sure you’ve milked him dry. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chants when the crest begins to crash and the tension in his tummy fades into a warm, golden glow. It’s all he can do just to watch in blissed-out wonder as you scoop up the spend on his skin with your tongue, tilt his head back with a hand in his hair and spit into his open mouth. 

You wait until he swallows and then you kiss him–hard.

You kiss him so fiercely, he doesn’t notice until it’s too late that you’re straddling him, notching the head of his oversensitive cock at your warm, wet entrance and dropping down, down, down.

He groans out a string of curses through gritted teeth, knowing better than to protest, even if the overstimulation is making fresh tears prick at his eyes. Even if his skin burns when you grind on him, rolling your hips till you find where it feels good, sighing in a way that lets him know you’ve waited for this just as long as he has. 

“You’re okay, Frankie,” you tell him firmly. “It’s mami’s turn now. Been dreaming about coming all over this big, pretty cock.”

He nods resolutely and then you get to work. 

He wishes he could help, but he’ll gladly take this too. This perfect view of you riding his oversensitive cock, tits poking out of your pretty lingerie, wet pussy swallowing him and making space for him inside you. He sees the cracks in your composure when you get like this, when you use him to get yourself off, desperate for release the closer you get. The stinging ache in his cock turns back to pleasure soon enough as you drip and stretch around him, the roll of your hips growing frantic as your near you impending edge.

He should wait for your instruction, but your tits are right there and he needs to offer you something. 

“Oh, fuck, yeah, baby, suck on mami’s tits,” you whine as he closes his lips around one of your perked nubs. He does as you ask, suckling at each of your nipples with a low, reverent groan, grateful at just the chance to taste you finally. Maybe later he’ll tell you how he’s imagining warm, white wetness spilling down his chin as he sucks and sucks and sucks at you. How the thought of drinking you down–swallowing everything you’d give him–makes his cock twitch between your walls. 

Later. Maybe. 

“I’m gonna come, Frankie,” you warn him.

“Please,” he sighs. You clutch at him like a life preserver, fingers hooked around the back of his skull, pressing his face between your breasts as your hips begin to stutter. Frankie smiles, smothered and spent, right where he belongs. “Please,” he says again, but he knows it’s too low for you to hear. 

He knows the moment it hits you. Knows the sounds you make and the way you clench around him, the wet gush of your cunt and the shake in your thighs. He’s right on the edge all over again, his own climax just within grasp if you’d only give him permission.

“Come with me, Frankie,” you moan, like you can read his mind. “Come again for mami.”

And so he does, spilling inside your still-pulsing pussy and riding out the waves with you.

When it ends, your lips are on his again, catching each of his appreciative, laboured breaths.

“I missed you,” you whisper softly and Frankie feels like he could cry again. 

When you’ve both come down, you ease off him carefully to free him from his restraints, and no sooner is Frankie scooping you up in his arms and crashing down into bed with you pressed into his chest.

“You did so good, Frankie,” you murmur, over and over as you pet the curls at the back of his neck. “You’re so patient. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, baby,” he sighs, squeezing you in a little tighter. “Thank you.”

Equal parts delicious and funny! Love this so much L ❤️ Had me cracking up with the panic about time and @strang3lov3 that ending got me too. Felt like I was in the car with my husband 🤣😂

We Have Time

Fiancé!Frankie Morales x afab!reader | w/c: 1.7k

Summary: Frankie wakes you up in the best way possible for your last morning in your guys’ hotel.

Content/tags: able-bodied reader, female sex anatomy, no physical descriptions/size descriptors. Established relationship. Porn with minimal plot. Pet names (baby, cariño, hon). 18+ MDNI. You know what you’re getting into. Frankie the munch is back at it again. Somnophilia, some humping... Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Long time no see🩶 I just came back from a tiny vacation, so this may or may not be inspired by some daydreams… I hope you all enjoy!! And a special shoutout to @strang3lov3 for being an author on this with me 🥹 her writing falls after the pink line!😉

masterlist | update blog

5:43am. 

It’s your last day on your week getaway with Frankie, and you both have disgusting road rage. So to beat the traffic, you both agreed to be out of the hotel and on the road by seven. 

He’s got time. Right? 

Frankie’s on a mission. He moves swiftly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he repositions himself between your thighs. 

You’re bare already. You protested against underwear last night after he cleaned you up. Besides, you knew where it would lead in the morning. Whether you were trying to subliminally hint at him or not, he’s not stupid, but boy is he weak. 

Frankie lets out a soft moan the second his eyes are on you, his cock already hard and aching. You move, then. A deep sigh and a turn of your head the other way, and you’re back to lightly snoring. 

Settling himself between you, his hands on the outside of your thighs, he smiles, kissing the inside of your leg sweetly before bringing his attention back to your core. He leans in, slotting his lips right against yours. His eyes flutter shut at the contact. 

Dipping lower, Frankie sticks his tongue out, licking a flat stripe up through your folds. Your hand twitches at that. He repeats the motion again, slower, more precise. He does that several more times until you’re leaking onto the bed sheets.

You shift in his hold; your body is reacting—becoming restless, but still, you’re stuck in a state of half consciousness. He laps up your slick once more, and then he brings his tongue up to your clit. He circles it, latches his mouth, and bingo. You’re awake.

With a gasp of his name, your hand flies towards his bed head, immediately guiding his motions to the pace that you need—his favorite part when you finally wake up. He kisses and licks at you, entirely making out with your cunt as you rock back and forth on his face. “F-fuck, baby, oh my god,” you cry out. 

He groans into your entrance, enjoying the mess he’s made like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. He gives your pussy one more open-mouth, slobbery kiss before his tongue circles your hole, the pink muscle sliding in and taking in the velvety warmth of you. The sensation has Frankie jutting his hips into the squeaky bed, the rest of his body on fire with need.

He feels you flutter around his tongue, and his hands find their way to your waist, yanking you impossibly closer, his mouth and nose flushed against your core. He fucks his tongue in and out of you, the tip of his nose catching where you’re most sensitive with every push inward. Frankie’s hips thrust at the pace of his tongue, filling your walls with his whines and cries as he humps the already-abused hotel furniture. 

“Sh- shit, baby, shi- don’t stop, Frankie baby, don’t fuckin-” you gasp, your hand releases his curls and reaches for your pillow, your fingers begging to rip the fabric. 

Frankie’s hips rock faster at the sound of your pleas, and he doubles down on his efforts. He removes his tongue from your hole to bring his attention back to your throbbing nerves as one hand releases his hold on you. His middle finger swirls through your folds, covering himself in your arousal before he pushes the digit inside. Pushing in then out, in, then back out again, the next time he pushes in, his ring finger joins him, forcing the sweetest of gasps from your throat as your back arches off the mattress. 

Within seconds, your eyes are clamping shut as you scream out his name, your hips going rampant as you practically grind against Frankie’s face. Frankie pulls away from your cunt as his fingers continue to fuck you through your high; he looks to your face in ecstasy then back down to the way his fingers are inside you—the way his fingers are now covered in your creamy slick. He’s so entranced by you, he doesn’t realize your sudden burst of strength as you hold yourself up on your elbows, watching with him the way his fingers alone start working you up to your second orgasm. 

“Gonna cum too, baby?” Your breathy voice snaps his attention to you immediately. You nod your head, pointing out with a lazy smirk the way his hips are still thrusting against the mattress. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs, his eyebrows furrowing instantly. He tries to stop himself, but he’s too wound up now to stop. He doesn’t like cumming unless it’s because of you. Unless it’s in you. 

“Come on,” you whine as his fingers hit that spongy little sweet spot. “Cum with me, Frankie, cum like that, and then your next one goes inside me, yeah?” 

“Shit,” he grunts, slowing his rhythm but pushing deeper into the mattress now. “Yeah, alright, baby, alright.” 

He pulls his fingers out of you momentarily, lapping up your arousal, and even though he’s had his taste of you all morning, this is what sends him over the edge. Frantically getting his lips back on you, his tongue rubs on you once, twice, three times, before you’re gushing on him a second time. 

Frankie never stops licking you; he just gets slower, more careful. It’s his way of cleaning his mess, you think, and you love it. The two of you could lay here like this for hours, letting your heart rate and breathing return to normal as the loudness that is Frankie’s mind turns to mush between your thighs. 

He’s in literal paradise like this. 

Of course, the vacation was amazing. It was a week long, and it was with you. But nothing compares to this. A week long, a month long, a year? Fuck, he’ll stay wrapped up by you forever. He’s never been more sure of anything. 

But for right now, he’ll settle for a few hours. He’s got the time. 

Right? 

“Oh, fuck! Frankie!” You sit up, pulling your warmth away from him as you tumble off the bed. 

“Cariño? Baby? What happened? What’s wrong?” 

“The time!” You exclaim. You point to the little digital clock on the bedside table. 

7:54am. 

Shit.

9:56am. 

Frankie groans as he pulls the car into the McDonald’s parking lot. “Fucking packed,” he grumbles, pulling up behind a long line of cars waiting in the drive through. 

It is packed. And you know exactly why. “Well maybe if you ate pussy faster…” you mumble under your breath. It’s a frustrated comment made more for yourself than to be a jab at Frankie. Or maybe it is a jab at Frankie. You don’t know. You’re so hungry. 

You rest your head against your fist and Frankie looks at you in disbelief. He’s gotten two orgasms in your system first thing in the morning, and you’re still nothing but a grump. He knows that head, while it helps, isn’t what you really need right now. What you need is food, and the line for the drive through couldn’t be moving any slower. “Didn’t hear any complaints,” he quips back, and you roll your eyes. 

After twenty minutes of waiting in the car listening to the god-awful morning radio, Frankie finally pulls up to the speaker. 

“Welcome to McDonald’s, will you be using your mobile app?”

Frankie tilts his head, “Mobile what?” 

Before the person operating the speaker can answer, you interrupt. “App,” you snap at Frankie. “I’m making an appointment with the audiologist when we get back.”

Frankie turns to you, “They have an app?” he asks. 

“Just say no, Frankie.”

Frankie clears his throat. “No,” he says loudly. Definitively. 

There’s an awkward pause before the operator speaks again. “Okay…Order when you’re ready.”

“What do you want?” Frankie whispers, his eyes on the glowing menu. 

“I don’t know.”

“Well pick something, we need to order soon,” he urges. 

“I said I don’t know.”

Frankie’s growing frustrated. “Well what looks good to you, honey?”

“I DON’T KNOW,” you bark, “I DON’T LIKE MCDONALDS. It’s for children and hungover people.” You fold your arms over your chest and cross your legs, then turn your body the direction opposite of Frankie. 

“Yeah, and which one are you today? A child or hungover?” Frankie shakes his head. Everybody likes McDonald’s. And those who say they don’t? Liars. 

After a moment browsing the menu, Frankie orders. “Yeah, I’ll have a sausage, egg, and cheese McMuffin meal, iced coffee—” he turns to see you still huffing and puffing in the passenger seat, “Large,” he adds. You’re so crabby without your caffeine. “And uh…sausage, egg, and cheese McGriddle meal for myself. And a strawberry banana smoothie. Please and thank you.”

“Gross,” you grumble. 

Frankie chooses to ignore that. The order is repeated back to him, and then he pulls up to the window to pay. An advertisement for the app catches his eye. “Since when do they have a McDonald’s app?”

“Since forever,” you answer like it’s obvious. And it kind of is. God only knows which rock your fiancé’s been living under. 

As you wait for your food, Frankie taps the steering wheel along to the music that softly plays. He pulls out his phone and opens the App Store to download the McDonald’s app. “I’m getting the app,” he tells you. 

“That’s terrific, Frankie.”

“Does it have games on it?”

“No. It’s to order food. Obviously.”

Frankie scoffs. “You need food in you. You’re a peach.”

And speak of the devil, here comes the food. Frankie is handed a large bag and two drinks which he gives to you, then drives off. You sort through the food in the bag, pulling out your sandwich and then hand Frankie his. “They forgot a hash brown.”

“That’s okay. You can have mine.”

He’s a sweetheart. He really is. You eat the singular hash brown before opening your sandwich and take a bite out of it. And it’s…alright. Tastes like you remember. Greasy, salty, not much else. 

But then Frankie unwraps his sandwich. It’s almost the same as yours, but the ingredients sit between two pillowy pancakes that smell oh-so delightful right now. “Frankie?” you ask, “Can I try a bite?”

“Sure, baby.” Frankie passes you his sandwich and you take the biggest bite you can. And fuck, it’s heaven. You moan in relief the same way you did with Frankie’s head between your thighs. 

“Frankie?”

“Yes, hon.”

“Can we trade?”

Frankie sighs deeply, but he obliges anyway. You hand him your mediocre McMuffin and he eats it, thinking about how much he loves you the whole time.

Thank you for reading!! I seriously hope you guys liked it! I'd love to hear what you guys think even though this one was on the shorter side. And thank you to my beautiful Bug for writing the yummy funny little treat at the end (& also the cinematic masterpiece of a moodboard at the end😭). Truly made my fucking day. I love you. Anyway. I wouldn't be where I am without any of you. Life’s been a bit wild, and it’s been a while since I’ve written, but I miss you guys too much. Thank you for sticking around. Much love xx🩶

divider by @saradika-graphics

Awww thank you!!! ❤️❤️❤️ Your tags have me cracking up! 🤣

Play Date Hookup

Summary: Frankie arrives early to pick up Missy.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MINORS DNI, Sexting, being parents, unprotected piv, creampie

A/N: Thank you very much @beefrobeefcal and @strang3lov3 for lending your eyes on this one ❤️ @jay-zzle basically makes all the moodboards for me(with the exception of a few) and continues to surprise me over and over again with her talents! 😍 ilysm!!!

Masterlist||Parents to Lovers||AO3

divider by @saradika-graphics

“Down the hall and it’s the last door on the left,” Benny points, and grumbling in response,  Frankie makes his way towards Benny’s new bedroom. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Benny,” Frankie mutters, carrying the box Will shoved into his arms, “The fuck do you have in here? Weights?”

Frankie makes it to Benny’s room, barely able to hold the box any longer before it falls to the floor, the contents spilling out onto the hardwood floor.

“Fuck,” Frankie mutters, whipping around to make sure no one followed him in to see the box fumble, wiping his forearm across his sweaty brow he looks down at the mess he has to pick up. Playboys. Hundreds of playboys spilled out of the box.

After picking one up, Frankie quietly makes his way to the door, peering out to see if anyone is coming before closing the door and browsing the dirty magazine. He finds a model that slightly resembles you and his cock twitches, smirking as he pulls out his phone.

Frankie: You busy?

You: Making the girls lunch

Frankie: Thinking about you

You: Yeah? What about me?

Frankie: Oh ya know 🐱

You: Francisco! Naughty, naughty 😈 

Frankie: Wanna eat your pussy so bad baby

You: How about I ride you instead?

Frankie: Fuuuuuuck I’m supposed to be helping Benny move and now I’ve got a fucking boner

You: Show me? 😏

Frankie sighs, looking down at the tent in his jeans. Fuck it, he thinks, undoing his jeans. He slides them down to the middle of his thighs and moves his boxers down just enough that his cock springs free. He holds his dick in one hand and his phone in the other, getting the perfect angle.

“Hey man, there’s mor-“ Santi comes barging into the room, “What the fuck?”

“Fuck!” Frankie says, turning around, and pulling up his pants.

“What’s going on?” Will asks coming up the hallway.

“Fish is taking a pic of his dick!” Santi hollers out laughing.

“Fuck off!” Frankie huffs, buttoning and zipping his pants back up. His face feels like it’s on fire with how red it must be, turning around all three of them standing there looking at him.

“Fish, you’re supposed to be helping me move!” Benny laughs, “Not sexting your girl!”

“Ha. Ha.” Frankie mocks, “Lady gets what the lady wants,” he shrugs.

The guys continue to laugh, shaking their heads.

“Come on Fish,” Will says, “Let’s get the rest of this shit done and maybe you can leave early for your girl.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Frankie grumbles, looking at the pic he took before sending it to you.

Frankie: [image attached] I hope you know I love you because I just got fucking caught since you wanted a dick pic so bad  😜

You: Mmmm I love you too babe 😘

—

“Girls! Lunchtime!”

Frankie had volunteered to help Benny move into his new place which meant Missy was hanging out with you and Nora until he was done. Nora and Missy come bounding into the kitchen, sitting down at their plates and digging into the bag of chips on the table to pile on their plates.

“Hungry?” You ask with a laugh.

Missy and Nora nod while grabbing a handful of chips to shove in their mouths.

“How much more time do we have?” Nora asks with a mouthful.

“Sweetie, don’t talk with food in your mouth.”

“My bad,” Nora says, while Missy giggles.

You glance at your watch checking the time before picking up your sandwich.

“Looks like you girls have about an hour left before Missy’s dad comes to get her.”

“Can we play in the sprinkler after we eat?!”

“Can we?!” Missy asks with the same puppy dog eyes as her father.

“I guess that would be okay,” you shrug, “you can just borrow Nora’s old swimsuit, it should fit.”

“Yes!” Both girls shriek in triumph, picking up their sandwiches and taking big bites to try and finish faster.

“Hey now, slow down,” you murmur after taking a bite of your sandwich, trying to cover your mouth with your hand.

“Momma,” Nora says, “Don’t talk with food in your mouth!”

—

The girls are outside running through the sprinkler while you clean up the kitchen from lunch. You hear your ringtone blaring just as you finish putting dishes in the dishwasher. The picture of Frankie from your first date shows up on the screen, causing a grin to spread across your face.

“Hello?”

“Hey babe,” Frankie says, even though you can’t see him you can hear the smile on his face.

“Hey babe! Ooo-la-la!” You hear in the background along with someone moaning, “Oh Fish!” And obnoxious kissing sounds.

“Fuck off!” Frankie grumbles as the background noise gets softer and softer, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s all good,” you laugh, “How are the guys?”

“Being assholes,” Frankie grunts, “but they also wanted me to forward their hellos”

“Tell them I say the same and that I don’t call you Fish,” you say, unable to wipe the grin off your face.

“No you do not,” Frankie purrs into the receiver, “Miss you baby.”

“Frankie,” you groan, “Don’t start that.”

“Start what?” He asks with fake shock in his tone.

“You know what!”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs, “How’s Missy? Is she behaving?”

“She’s good! Frankie, she always behaves, stop worrying about that. You’ve done good with her,” you smile, looking out the kitchen window, “They’re outside right now running through the sprinkler.”

“Do I need to stop at my place and get clothes for her?”

“Nah,” you say with a shrug, “She’s wearing Nora’s old swimsuit.”

“Okay,” Frankie laughs, “Oh before I forget! Benny is going to throw a barbecue at his house once he gets settled and he would like it if you and Nora came too.”

“Frankie,” you say softly, “As much as I would love to. Is that really a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Me and Nora showing up to Benny’s,” you sigh, “Nora and Missy don’t know that I know your friends or that we’re together, I think it might give off a confusing message.”

“Yeah,” Frankie sighs, “I guess you’re right.”

“I’m sorry babe, I really am.”

“No it’s okay, I just didn’t think about that.”

“One day,” you sigh dreamily.

“One day,” Frankie repeats, “I better go, I think we might finish sooner than we thought but I’ll let you know.”

“Okay,” you smile, “Just let me know. I love you!”

“I love you too babe, I’ll see you soon.”

—

Your phone pings and a text from Frankie pops up.

Frankie: Hey. Girls still playing in sprinkler?

You: Hey. Yeah

Frankie: Come let me in 😉

Confused for a moment, stepping towards your front door peering through the peephole to see Frankie standing on your front porch. Smirking, you open the door.

“What are yo-“ Before you can even finish your sentence Frankie grabs you pulling you into a hungry kiss, letting out a soft moan when his hands grab your ass.

“Frankie,” you whisper, pushing your hands softly against his chest, “We can’t.”

“They’re distracted,” He hums, his nose tracing along your jaw, nipping your neck gently, “We can make it quick.”

You can hear the girls' laughter outside, he’s right - they are distracted. Nora won’t leave that sprinkler until someone makes her and Missy won’t leave it unless Nora does.

“Okay,” you smirk, hands trailing down to his waist, hooking your fingers into the belt loops on his jeans and pulling him towards the couch “But seriously we need to make it fast.”

Frankie nods with a dopey grin, and pushing him to sit, you straddle him. His hands immediately grip your hips, pulling you down on the bulge trapped in his jeans.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he sighs as your lips trail along his neck, softly sucking on his pulse point causing him to groan.

“I’ve missed you too,” you giggle, grinding your core against him. Frankie’s mouth drops open at the friction, “But you gotta be quiet too,” you say smirking as you undo his belt.

“Up,” he grunts, slapping the side of your ass. Hastily he maneuvers your body so that your chest is against the arm of the couch, slipping your leggings and underwear off you just enough and he lets out a pained groan seeing your wet slit, “Fuck, wish we had more time.”

You feel his thumbs spreading your lips open and his breath ghosting against your core, giving a barely there kiss to your bundle of nerves.

“Frankie,” you whine, “Please.”

“Tranquilita,” Frankie huffs, his thumb running circles against your clit,  “Wish I could give this pussy the treatment she deserves.”

“Fuck,” you moan, “We don’t have that kind of time, baby.”

“I know,” Frankie sighs, as you hear the button and zip of his jeans, the rustle of them being pushed down, turning your head you see his hand gripping his shaft, a soft groan crawls out his throat as he gives it a few pumps before pressing against your entrance. The head swiping up and down along your slit, causing you to squirm. Frankie grips your hip sharply to keep you still, pushing his cock in, your walls parting to make room for him. Simultaneous groans come from the both of you as he pushes in deeper until you feel his hips against your backside.

“Fuck baby,” Frankie groans, his hand on your hip gripping tighter, “Feel so fucking good.”

“Move,” you whine, hands gripping the cushion in front of you, “I need you to move.”

Frankie hums, pulling out an inch and slowly moving back into your heat. His other hand moves to the opposite hip, placing a firm grip there.

“Frankie,” you whine again, trying to move your hips against him but his hold on them becomes even tighter “More. I need more.”

“Tranquilita bebé,” Frankie says calmly, still keeping the same tempo working you open, “Gotta get used to it first, don’t wanna hurt you.”

He was right, the last time you had a quickie it hurt, but this was starting to feel like torture. Slowly rutting into you, you want it harder, want to feel him tomorrow every time you moved.

“Fuck,” Frankie softly hisses, feeling his cock pull out until only the tip is inside before plunging back into you harshly.

“Oh god,” you gasp, feeling his length scrub along your walls, “Frankie!”

Frankie’s hips begin to snap into you at a frenzied pace, the sound of skin clapping bouncing around your ears. His hand slides down between your thighs to access that sweet spot, swirling two fingers around it, causing you to let out a loud moan.

“Bebé,” Frankie tuts, his arm leaving your hip to lean over you, his chest flush with your back, slowing the pace of his hips, “Gonna need you to hold those noises in for me,” he whispers into your ear, giving your neck a soft bite.

“Mmhhmm,” you choke out, feeling the flutter of your walls as he hits that spot inside of you that makes your vision go blurry.

“God damn it,” Frankie groans, sucking in a sharp breath and pistoning into your cunt, “I need you to come,” moving his fingers faster against your clit.

Your grip on the couch becomes tighter, that warm feeling below your belly button becoming a raging inferno, the sound of your wetness smacking against Frankie’s balls as he continues brutally rutting into you.

“Fu-“ you start to sob as he clamps his hand across your mouth, leaving you to whimper into his hand as you reach your peak, coming undone beneath him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Frankie pants, beginning to chase his own climax as your walls constrict his cock, hips losing their rhythm, “Where can I - fuck - come? Where?”

You grip his hand moving it from your mouth, “I- In- Inside,” you stutter out.

“Dios mío,” he growls, grinding into you, feeling his cock twitch as he paints your walls with his spend, slumping against you, “Fuck me,” he whispers between your shoulder blades.

“Well,” you smile, “I didn’t do that but you did just fuck me.”

Frankie lets out a small laugh, rolling his forehead against your upper back with a shake of his head.

“You’re something else, bebé,” Frankie laughs, pulling out as you both groan.

There’s a smack at the backdoor and you hear your name being yelled.

“Nora fell!” Missy shouts from behind the door.

“Fuck,” you say, quickly sitting up, pulling your underwear and leggings up, “Mom duty.”

I love this story so much! I’m a sucker for a good soulmates story and it being Frankie?! 🥰 Even better!

Santi cracks me up 🤣 Someone get the spray bottle so they can make him behave!

Dreamers part 1 feat. Frankie Morales

Summary: Old wives tales talked of soul mates being connected through dreams, but this notion no longer held weight in today’s day and age, what with apps for dating and pills to make sleep heavy and devoid of images. So you didn’t think anything of your beach dreams, even when they got stronger and the emotions you felt so intensely stayed with you for hours after you woke. They were just dreams... right?

My contribution to @burntheedges Roll-a-Trope fic challenge. I got Frankie + Soulmates.

Frankie Morales x f!reader 'Kit' | Rating: 18+ MDNI | Word Count: 3,420

Content Warnings: surreal and bad feeling dreams, talk of prison, ending of a marriage, betrayal, traveling, maladaptive day dreaming, no smut yet but there will be in the next parts

Author's Notes: Thank you to @burntheedges for this prompt. I never had the pull towards soulmate fics but this experience has changed my mind!

Thank you to @noxturnalpascal for picking up my typos and handing them back to me in gentle love, and @strang3lov3 for their magic powers and brainstorming abilities and to @bitchesuntitled for their eyes and love. Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the dividers

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Beaches. You’d dreamed of beaches for almost your whole life. Not the beaches you lived near with their rocky pacific northwest bleakness, no. The beaches you dreamed of were long and sandy, calling you to come walk and warm your feet on them and stare into the turquoise abyss that kissed them. 

Old wives tales talked of soul mates being connected through dreams, but this notion no longer held weight in today’s day and age, what with apps for dating and pills to make sleep heavy and devoid of images. So you didn’t think anything of your beach dreams, even when they got stronger and the emotions you felt so intensely stayed with you for hours after you woke. They were just dreams. 

They still remained just dreams when you met Tony at 22, and they continued as you slept next to him night after night, kept on after you were engaged and then married. Just dreams of beaches. 

It wasn’t until you suspected something was going on that Tony was trying to keep from you. His evasive behavior and random trips out of the house and the amount of cash he carried on hand had you thinking he was cheating - that you could have at least considered tolderating or moving past - but when he came home, panic in his eyes, and told you to turn off your cell phone, then explained what he had been doing all along, your world fell apart.

Tony had gotten himself involved with a group of men from his youth, trying to - and successfully - pulling him into a drug ring. He tried to justify it by saying he was keeping you safe and told you he wanted to give you a lifestyle that a pipe welder couldn’t do, so he ran drugs - cocaine mainly - and he was sorry he lied. But he swore that everything would be fine.

It was fine until it wasn’t: an undercover cop had infiltrated the ring and he was scared. It wasn’t his first run in with the law, but this was bigger, and he knew he was at risk of losing you, and told you it was just two runs he did and that was it - nothing more.

When the police showed up a few weeks later on a Sunday morning to arrest him, it was there that you got the full truth: he’d been pressing the cocaine and buffing it, packaging it and selling it. It was more than two trips and it was more than a couple hundred dollars. 

Stunned, you watched as he was taken out of your house. You spent the day trying to scrounge up the $5,000.00 for his bail and the halls of the court house were cold and judgmental as you stood there, waiting to pay for your husband’s release. The drive to the police station to pick him up was nauseating, and the drive home with him in the passenger seat, pleading and crying for you to just listen and that he loves you and he can make it right was turning your heart to stone. 

The dreams became more intense and started slipping into and impeding your waking hours; you no longer had the euphoric moment of remembering that all you had to do was wake up. You would be sitting at your computer at work then suddenly your mind would drift and you’d be on a beach running from the water, screaming to get away. When you’d drop back into reality, your calves would burn like you’d been running in the sand and your breathing would be labored. It kept happening, stopping you in your tracks and making you think you were slowly going insane. You could smell the salt spray and feel the burning sun on your skin…

When you brought this up to your doctor and then later your shrink, you were told it was ‘maladaptive daydreaming’ and ‘hypnagogic hallucinations’ brought on by excessive stress. You accepted that explanation and hung onto it to try and get through your days, but the fact that sleep was never restful and now you couldn’t even escape these things during the day left you exhausted and broken. 

It all came to a head months later while you sat in the courtroom next to Tony, waiting for his turn to be called up by the judge, ready to mumble the rehearsed lines his very expensive lawyer had coached him on. You felt him tremble next to you, gripping your hand so hard. As Tony was called up, the voices that echoed on the wood-paneled walls dulled and gave way to the sound of waves. You welcomed the intrusion this time, letting it take you away and out of this horrible place. And you felt him… you couldn’t see him, but you could feel his presence envelope you. 

While you couldn’t say who he was, you knew in your heart of hearts, this was your soul mate. The eleven years you’d dedicated to Tony seemed to pale in comparison to these revelations and it was then that you decided that you weren’t going to sit around and wait for him to get out of prison.

Frankie woke again with a terrible feeling. Dread and anxiety wash over him as he sits up in bed, rubbing his face. He tries to think of what brought this feeling on. It was a sickening feeling he woke up with almost daily and it seemed to be getting worse. 

From what he could remember of his dreams, it was always raining - but he didn’t mind it. Sometimes he was in a city, for what reason he didn’t know, and he would watch out of focus cars and buses drive through puddles. Other times, he was in the woods, and the smell of damp earth surrounded him, and once he was even driving on a switchback highway at night as wet leaves and rain pelted the windshield.

But lately, while the images he saw and the rain that tied them together remained, the feelings he was left with were becoming debilitating. He’d had his own battles with his mental health over the years, but this felt like these things weren’t coming from him though - it felt like he was having something shared with him and he was grappling with the residual after effects every morning. At least that’s what he hoped. 

He moved through the days becoming increasingly worried at what the nights would bring. He tried talking to his friends about it, but both Will and Benny gave him concerned stares. The only one who entertained the notion of all this with Frankie was Santiago; he’d said that his Tia Maria had once told him about soulmates and them being connected through dreams, and how when one hurt, the other’s dreams would be plagued with their anguish. 

You’d tried to be the dutiful wife, coming for regular visits, taking the calls where you would numbly listen to him plead and beg for your forgiveness and love over and over.  You were eroding away from the person you once were but you didn’t have the energy to care.

Then one day, everything changed. Sitting in a dank, stale room, you waited for Tony to come in from the yard for your weekly visit. As you waited, your mind was flooded with images of a beautiful beach, and the unknown man who comforted you while you watched the tide ebb and flow came into your peripherals. Brown hair peeking out from under a ball cap and a patchy beard was all you could hazily see. This seemed to bring you out of whatever fog you were in as you heard another inmate make a promise to his visiting partner that everything would be just like it was before when he came home - just like Tony had, like it was scripted. Your body and mind suddenly felt like it was coming to life and you felt goosebumps raise under your sweater. You could suddenly taste the acrid and stale air in the room and it was like you were waking up. Looking around the room, you finally were able to take in the grey faces around you, people who had their lives sucked dry from the choices made. But as you came to life, so did the reality that you were one of those grey people too; the life being drained from you because of someone else’s bad decisions.

Anger, hurt, resentment… all of it bubbled to the surface now that you could feel again, and as you raised your eyes, you watched Tony walking towards your table. His eyes caught yours and you knew he saw the change in you. He sat down across from you and held your hand, examining your face sadly.

“You’re not coming back after this, are you, Kit?”

Frankie awoke in a cold sweat, sitting up in bed. Panting, his eyes darted around his dark bedroom. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed his face as his elbows rested on his knees. 

Flashes of the dream that woke him still paraded behind his eyelids. City streets. Raining. Traffic. Dread. Panic. Terror…

The same dream he'd had for months, but this time, there was a woman. It was like he’d seen her a million times before and yet she was completely new. He could only make out fuzzy details, but the energy and presence she had was so familiar and yet so unknown. The feeling he was left with as he fully came out of his slumber was a melancholic peace, an ache in his chest for something that wasn’t fully clear to him. 

He got up, his knees cracking, and he walked out into the kitchen to get a drink of water.

Almost two months had passed since you last saw Tony, and over a month since you last spoke to him. You’d already hired a divorce lawyer and while you knew Tony didn’t want to separate, he knew from the way you looked at him, that he’d already lost you. 

Your dreams had taken on a less terrifying and now just left you in an almost surreal daze that allowed you to still function as you managed to pack up everything in your home. You put all of Tony’s belongings in storage - that his mother was paying for - and put your house on the market. You also managed to sell off the large furniture you knew wouldn’t fit in the apartment Tony would inevitably move into when he was released. 

After the last box was removed from your former and now empty home, you stood up and looked around. There was a feeling of peaceful melancholy that washed over you like waves, and you could almost feel the salt spray from your dreams on your face. You knew this was right even if it meant starting over.

“I told you, Ben honey. Kit and I went to university together. She bailed me out of so fucking much trouble.”, Mandy stated, walking through her shared apartment with Benny, him tailing behind her with a confused look on his face.

“Yeah. I got that. You have special nicknames for each other; she’s ‘Kit’, you’re ‘Kat’. But she’s just getting a divorce -  why is she coming here? To Florida? And why is she staying with us? And why have I never met the ‘Kit’ before?”

“Because I only met you two years ago, Benjamin!”, she snapped at him. “And she doesn’t live around here. I was a bridesmaid in her wedding and we talk over instagram almost daily and I have shown you pictures of her. She’s my friend and she needs a fresh start. End of story.”

Benny held his hands up. “Okay! But why does this ‘Kit’ have to stay with us and take away my space? That is not a spare bedroom -  it’s my gamer sanctuary!”

The cold, warning look that Mandy gave Benny made him back down. “I have to deal with a lot because you tell me that Santi is family. And I have been gracious about it, haven’t I?”

Benny nodded, stepping back into the bookshelf. Mandy took a step towards him. 

“So when I say Kit is my family, I expect the same grace, Benny!”

“Okay! Okay, I got it!”

Will listened to Mandy putting Benny in his place and looked over at Frankie, assuming he’d be just as entertained but instead saw his friend looking like he was a million miles away.

Frankie sat and watched as the rain fell and cars passed. The street lights were hazy as though they were painted with watercolours..The sounds of traffic and city life thrummed in the background and he felt a hand grip his. It was warm and he felt it be lifted and then a pair of warm lips press to the back of it. His senses came alight with the scent of this woman, and then he saw her smile. Her beautiful smile…

“Fish? Where are you, buddy?”

Will’s voice cut through to Frankie, making him blink and his eyes dart around. 

“I-uh… what?”

“I said it should be interesting to have another lady around”, Will mused, smiling with a hint of concern at his friend before he stretched in the deck chair. He brought his hand behind his head and kept his eyes on Frankie.

Frankie just nodded and took a drink of his diet coke, trying to quietly get his bearings; he’d never had a moment like that so blatantly in front of someone, and the fact he slipped so easily into it now unnerved him.

Santi wandered out to the deck, shaking his head and eyes wide. “What’s going on in there?”, he asked, pointing his thumb towards the sliding door and the sounds of Mandy and Benny continuing to come to terms.

Will’s eyes shifted to Frankie quickly before he huffed a laugh. “Mandy’s got a friend coming to stay for a bit and Benny’s gotta forgo his ‘gamer sanctuary’ while said friend is here.”

Santi raised his brows. “A friend? As in another female?”

Frankie laughed, sputtering his sip of pop with a smile followed by a cough. “Down boy!”, he choked out.

Sant clapped Frankie on the back. “I’m just making sure I got all the info I need, Fish, no need to choke about it.”

“Fuck off - I know you…”

Santi shrugged and raised his hands in defense. “Can’t help that I feel like my calling is to anoint myself between the legs of beautiful women- and before you get all weird about it, all women are fucking beautiful!”

The three men cheered their beverages to that and carried on with random conversations until Benny called Will in to help him start removing some of his gaming set up from the spare bedroom. 

Once they were alone, Santi turned to Frankie and leaned in. “So, I-uh asked my abuela about those dreams you’ve been having.”

“Jesus, Pope! Not this again-”

“No hear me out! She said if they’re getting more intense, it means you’re closer to meeting your soul mate.”

Frankie rubs his face and huffs out a sigh and Santi watches him, hopeful that what he’s saying is getting through to his friend.

He paused, carefully watching for any opening Frankie might give him, and when his friend’s eyes looked at him, he smiled and took his chance.

“Soooo have you met anyone n-”

Frankie threw his hands up in the air and exasperatedly barked out, “Oh my god!”

Your layover in Denver was longer than it should have been and lasted all night due to delays, and there was no food beyond a shitty vending machine with candy bars that looked suspicious. You were hungry and tired and scared and were convinced all your luggage was going to be lost when you finally landed in Jacksonville. You also wondered what Mandy’s boyfriend was like. 

As you sat and sunk further into despair, you watched other stranded travelers mill around the airport, taking in their various states of dress -  some looked ready for a tropical vacation and others looked as though they were about to brave a frozen tundra. Your own outfit was better suited for the heat, as you assumed you’d be landing by sundown and not spending an awkward night waiting for a blizzard to blow through.

The people moving to and fro in front of you with their murmurs and the airport whitenoise began to lull you into a dazed state, and a clock’s tick on a pillar next to you became hypnotic. 

tick… tick… tick… tick…

The sound of waves ebbed and flowed into your ears and your eyes closed. Your shoed feet felt the warm sand creep between your toes, and the sun beamed down and kissed your cheeks. You felt the breeze blow through your hair and the hands of the man you only knew in your dreams held your waist. He held your back to his front, your bodies flush… 

“Mi corazón es tuyo.”

Your eyes shot open and you sat up straight, breathing heavily. You could still feel the way his breath tickled your ears and the way his husked tone enveloped you. These waking dreams at first scared you, but lately they had become a welcome distraction from your tumultuous life. But your mystery man speaking? That was new. 

The final leg of your trip seemed to pass almost too quickly as your mind swirled and tried to make sense of what had happened. You were pretty sure he had spoken to you in Spanish. You didn’t even speak Spanish and had no idea what he might have said, only that until the reality of it set in, you felt so much love and care in his words. 

As your plane started to descend in Florida and you watched the beaches come into view, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just maladaptive daydreaming.

Frankie had been busy. With his license reinstated to fly, he spent most of his free time at the airfield trying to make up for lost time. 

Of course Will had checked in on him, and so had Santi, but Frankie couldn’t help but smile every time Benny sent him a frantic message, begging to come out and see him and desperate to get out of what he called a ‘sorority house’.

“I swear, Fish… I swear to god that if I didn’t love Mandy this much I would not put up with having another woman in the house.”

“This friend has only been there a week and half.”

Benny guffawed. “I know! It’s been forever!”

Frankie suppressed a grin at Benny’s lamentations. “So the guest is terrible?”

“No! No she’s fine.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I’m out numbered! I can’t even cast a vote for what I want for dinner without Mandy pushing back on me, saying they already decided, and telling me to eat whatever is put in front of me!”

Frankie stopped and looked at Benny. “So Mandy’s the problem?”

Benny’s eyes narrowed and he huffed. “No! Mandy is great!”

Still unclear what the actual problem is, Frankie opened his mouth to speak and tented his brows in confusion but Benny cut him off.

“Okay! I know it’s stupid! I know it doesn’t seem like it’s a problem but-”, he prattled out then huffed. “I feel left out, okay?!”

Frankie couldn’t help but laugh, and Benny scowled.

“It’s not funny! I get left out and I’m being cockblocked! Mandy says she doesn’t want to make Kit feel bad.”

“Kit?”

“Yeah, nickname. Mandy’s is ‘Kat’. I have to hear the KitKat jingle every twenty minutes because they sing it to each other!”  Benny pauses and his face drops into a pout. “Mandy used to sing me the Oscar Meyer’s song to me to get my attention. I haven’t heard it since Kit got here!”

Frankie stared at his lovesick friend, and silently thanked whoever for letting him be single, then cleared his throat and raised his brows, nodding.. “Sounds rough.”

“It is, Fish!”, Benny declared dramatically, grabbing Frankie’s arms and shaking him. “For fuck’s sake, they work together all day and come home and hang out!I wish there was a way to just have one night alone with Mandy…”

The wheels in Benny’s head began to turn and a slow, almost frightening grin spread on his face. “You’re not seeing anyone, right, Fish?”

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Ahhhh!!!!

This was so fucking good!!!!

Feral Frankie and then sweet Frankie?! YES PLEASE! 😍🫠🥰

A Little Longer

Summary: Frankie promises to give you what you ask for... but only if you can play by the rules of his game

Word Count: 2.4K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (no use of y/n, established relationship)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), this is literally porn with no plot WHOOPS, cockwarming, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), cum eating, breeding kink (just really wanting to cum inside- no implications of wanting to get pregnant but use your imagination if you so choose because you know I will🙂 edging, overstimulation (if u squint), praise kink, size kink, feral Frankie, but also sweet soft baby boy Frankie 😭🥺

A/N: Ovulation demons are at it again!!! 🤠 Idk what to tell y'all, this came to me (quite literally whoops) and I couldn't rest until my thots were written down! I know Joel won the voting poll for this one, but honestly it just screams Frankie 😩 Everyone clap for Madeline as she writes something that isn't an explicit pregnancy breeding kink!!!!

Frankie was never the type of guy to spend his Sundays glued to the TV, watching whatever NFL game was on just for the sake of staying up to date on the sports world.

So when you found him in the living room, lounged and sprawled out across your couch with football on in the background, you were sure that now was just as good of a time as any to suggest you spend the rest of your lazy afternoon in a much more enjoyable way for the both of you.

"How much longer until the game is done?" You cooed, crawling into Frankie's lap, straddling your legs across his hips and tracing your fingers up and down the worn cotton of his t-shirt.

"'Bout halfway. Why?" Frankie smirked, the half hard bulge growing in his sweatpants revealing he knew damn well why you had asked.

"Because, I have a game I'd rather play that's much better than football." You teased, leaning down to trail soft kisses along his neck and jaw, subtly grinding your hips down into his.

"Yeah? and what game would that be, quierda?" Frankie's smirk only grew wider, lust pooling in the warmth of his brown eyes as his hands roamed to grope your ass, kneading the plump flesh in his grasp.

"My favorite game. The game where you put your dick inside me."

The two of you couldn't help but giggle despite the palpable tension brewing between you, a desperate and hungry need filling the air as Frankie's grip tightened, feeling you sink your weight over the full blown erection tenting his pants.

"That is a good game," Frankie chuckled, looking up at you with a concentrated furrow in his brow, seeing the gears turn in his mind as his eyes locked with yours. "I'll play. But-"

"But what, Frankie?" You asked, titling your head in confusion at his pause.

"But... We get to play by my rules."

At this point, Frankie's subtle smirk had shifted to a full blown devilish grin, leaving you wondering what kind of ideas he had managed to concoct in regards to your proposal.

"And what rules would those be, Franke?" You mewled, playing along as you traced your fingers along the edge of his waistband, tugging it down just enough to expose the happy trail running down the lower half of his stomach.

"I'll put my dick in you... But I'm not fucking you until the game is done."

You froze in your tracks, the unsure scrunch of your face acting as a silent ask to figure out if Frankie was being serious or not. The sudden shift in the tone of his voice now humming deep in his chest with a hungry desire, made it very clear that his suggestion was more than sure.

"If you want me to fuck you, rules are that you keep me inside you until the game is finished. But you can't move, can't touch yourself, and can't cum 'till I say."

You could already feel the slick starting to pool in the cotton of your underwear from anticipation and excitement, heart pulsing in your chest and cunt at the prospects of Frankie's idea. Because if there was one think Frankie knew about you, it was that you'd never turn down a challenge. And more importantly, you hated losing. So who would you be to deny him a chance to challenge him at his own game?

"You're on, Morales."

It had started off easy- sweet, even- Frankie spooning behind you, gently sliding his cock into your pussy, ass resting against his hips as your bodies melded together, snuggling on the couch.

He had even eased you into it, taking the first part of the 3rd quarter after half time had finished to stretch you out slowly, starting with just the tip notching between your folds and into your heat, sinking himself deeper inside you every few minutes to let you adjust to his size.

Even with how worked up you were, with half of Frankie's length now resting inside you, your confidence in making it another quarter and a half still abiding by Frankie's rules didn't seem too far out of reach.

But then again, you weren't expecting Frankie to play dirty, either.

Suddenly, Frankie was foregoing his subtle pace, trailing hot, wet kisses along your neck as he pushed himself fully inside you, filling you to the brim as his tip nestled against your cervix. A pathetic whimper escaped from your parted lips, catching your breath while your pussy pulsed around his length, feeling Frankie's smug grin pressed against your shoulder between his kisses.

"Oh f-fuck, Frankie!" You moaned, the sweet sting of his stretch already making your eyes roll to the back of your head, trying with everything in you to keep yourself composed.

"There ya go, princesa. Tight little pussy always takes me so well, doesn't she?" Frankie cooed almost mockingly, the hot breath of his words dancing against your skin between sucking at your pulse point. "Gotta relax, baby girl. Still have a ways to go before the game's over."

You took a long inhale in, glancing at the game clock in the bottom corner of the TV frame, finding the small box that read "3rd Quarter- 6:37" and doing some quick calculations in your head.

6 minutes left of this quarter and 15 minutes in the next. Plus game breaks and commercials? You could pull yourself together enough to make it through that without falling apart? Can't be that much longer, right?

For the average person watching football, you were right.

But to you, with Frankie's cock buried in your pussy, painstakingly teasing you to the point of near tears, you were convinced that you were watching the longest football game ever played in the history of mankind.

After sinking his full length to your hilt, Frankie had become relentless. It started off just like he had before, the intensity of his teasing amping up little by little with each minute that passed.

It began with the kisses on your neck, slowing trailing up and down your warm skin, whispering sweet praises into your ear. The tickle of the scratchy hairs from his beard making you shiver in delight, wishing it was buried between your legs, scratching the inside of your thighs as he ate you out instead of your neck.

Next, came his hands, palms that were once innocently splayed across your stomach now reaching under your shirt to palm at your breasts, kneading the soft flesh in his grasp, fingertips gently rolling your pebbled nipples, tweaking the hard buds with just enough pressure that his other hand was holding your hips firmly in place to keep you from grinding against him and taking any more than he gave you.

If both of those weren't enough, the final straw was when the hand lazily groping at your breasts snaked down your front, finding its way to your clit, puffy and aching from its time spent untouched while Frankie's cock lay stiff and full inside you.

At this point, you were absolutely soaked, every inch of your bottom half drenched in your arousal as you leaked around Frankie's length, the pads of his fingers sliding over your sensitive and slippery bundle of nerves with unspeakable ease. Even though he had barley but any pressure over your clit, just the ghosting of his fingertips was enough to make you sob, desperate to chase your high after what felt like hours of Frankie teasing you with his cock.

"Oh my god, F-frankie, fuck- please, baby. P-please touch me." You begged, pathetically whimpering as his fingers traced through your drenched folds, his strong grip holding your hips in place to keep you from pushing your ass deeper into his hips for some sort of relief.

"Shhhhhh, I know, baby. But you can't cum yet, remember? If I touch you, you gotta be a good girl and follow the rules of the game." Frankie smirked, teasing you as his fingers lazily collected your slick, purposefully circling them everywhere but your clit.

"I won't, I promise, p-please, Frankie. P-please."

Giving into your plea, Frankie dragged his fingers up your cunt, making you cry out as he finally began to rub slow circles against your throbbing bundle of nerves, the mix of temporary relief and painful ache to cum making you clamp down around Frankie's cock, wetness gushing from your core.

It was taking everything in you to fight the urge to collapse, biting down so hard on your lip you were convinced it might bleed as you felt the pleasure begin to build in you. Unfortunately for you, Frankie had spent enough time memorizing every twitch and tug of your body beneath his that he knew your tell tale signs, pulling his fingers away to the sounds of your ragged moans.

"Frankie, n-no, fuck- please, baby. I need more, pleasepleaseplease."

"Fuck, you're so pretty when you beg. I know, quierda, but not yet. There's still 4 minutes left in the game. 4 minutes left and then I'll fuck you. Fuck you with my tounge, my cock, I'll make you cum so many times you won't be able to walk straight. But not until this tight little pussy is so wet and ready for me that she can take everything I have to give."

With the way Frankie's filthy mouth was spewing, he might as well be fucking into you at full force, his words shooting straight to your core, fingers digging into your couch cushions for any sort of relief you could get.

"F-Frankieeeee-" His name was the only thing your mind could comprehend enough to get out, practically panting as the sheen of sweat began to dampen your forehead.

"You're doing so good for me, baby girl. I know you can take it." Frankie praised, scooping his hand under your jaw to turn your face towards him, cradling your cheeks in his grasp to force your lips to his, colliding mouths muffling the moans escaping from you.

You were practically drunk off pleasure at this point, trying your best to fight off a dizzying high as you watched the clock wind down at a painstaking pace, your heart skipping a beat as you saw the clock shift to count down from only one minute left.

"Less than a minute left, Hermosa. Think you can make it?" Frankie cooed, his fingers creeping back down to circle your clit, sending a jolt through your body as he rubbed at the slippery and soaked bundle of nerves.

The best you could do was nod your head, too far gone for any words as your cunt clamped tighter and tighter around him, so wet that you were more than positive you'd be cleaning stains of your puddles of slick out of your couch tomorrow.

Looking back at the TV, you were down to 12 seconds left, the winning team already celebrating their inevitable victory, hoping that it would be enough for Frankie to give in and finally fuck you.

"F-fuck me, Fransisco, please. Please, baby, wanna cum around your cock so bad." You whined at a pathetic pitch, pleading with Frankie to give you what you had been so desperate for.

You could hear the sigh of relief as the game clock finally wound down to :00, sensing an immediate shift in Frankie's demeanor as the game came to a close.

"Oh thank fuck this game is done." Frankie groaned, flipping you over onto your back and caging his body over yours, colliding your mouths in a messy dance of tongues and teeth.

While he may not have said it, Frankie was just as wound up as you, the warm and wet walls of your cunt soaking him for the better part of an hour driving him absolutely feral, using every ounce of self-restraint to keep from accepting defeat at his own game.

"Wanted to fuck you so bad, quierda. Do you know how hard it was not to give into you, baby? Not to hear those pretty moans and not fuck this perfect pussy. You did so good for me, so good that I'm gonna fuck you until you're begging me to stop. Gonna fill you up so full of me, I'll be dripping out of you for days."

Frankie sat back, throwing your legs over the width of his broad shoulders, leaning into you so that your thighs pressed against your stomach, stretching you open even further than you thought you could as he began to punch into you at a punishing pace.

His cock rammed against your g-spot, the sounds wet squelching from his length dragging in and out of your soaking heat, balls slapping against your ass and lewd moans had your living room sounding like it was straight out of a porn scene

"Fuckfuckfuck- Frankie- don't stop, baby. Don't stop." You sobbed, Frankie barley 10 strokes in before you could feel the coil in your belly beginning to tighten, so worked up from waiting for this moment that you were about to cum embarrassingly fast.

"Not gonna stop, hermosa. Lemme feel it, baby. Did so good for me. Cum all over my cock. Wanna feel you soak me. Wanna feel you before I fuck myself so deep inside of you."

“Ohmygod- oh Frankie, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

It only took a few more strokes and the curly hairs at the base of his shaft rubbing against your clit to send you over the edge, your pent up orgasm crashing through you so hard, you were conviced that you were levitating in pure ecstasy. Every inch of your body was trembling with pleasure, gushing around Frankie’s cock as you came, your velvety walls choking his length as he relentlessly continued to fuck into you, ready to chase his own high.

“That’s my good girl. Let go, baby. Cum all over me. Fuck, your pussy feels so fucking good.” Frankie groaned, admiring you as you rode out your orgasm, jaw slack and mouth hanging open in a perfect “O”, your glossed over eyes and blissed out expression finding a way to drive him even more wild.

Reaching between your legs, Frankie’s fingers found your clit, making you cry out from how sensitive you still were, barely finished cumming before he was already on his way to doing it again.

“Frankie, it’s too- fuck- too much. Oh my god, shit-“ you sobbed, wrapping your fingers around his biceps, his muscles flexing in your grasp as you tried to brace yourself.

“I know you can take it, Hermosa. Need to give you one more. Please, let me give you one more.”

“I- fuck- I c-can’t.” But despite your half hearted protest, you and Frankie both knew that you were already half way to reaching your high again, coil in your stomach tightening with each punch against your g-spot and rub of his fingers on your throbbing bundle of nerves.

"You can, baby girl, I know you can. Can feel how close you are again- so fucking wet and tight, fuck- Give me one more and I'm gonna fill you so fucking full of me- watch my cum leak out of your tight little pussy 'till I can fuck it back into you again, keep you inside me for days." Frankie moaned, his pace now becoming more frantic and sloppy with each thrust, fighting with everything in him to keep from finishing before you did once more.

The combination of the feral thoughts that Frankie found himself spewing, along with the overwhelming and all consuming pleasure was all you needed to tip you over the edge again, this orgasm even more intense than the last. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, sobbing and crying out Frankie's name like a broken prayer, body practically going limp as pure bliss overtook you.

"Oh shit- Fuck, you're so good to me, quierda. Feels so fucking good. Fuck, I'm gonna cum too- mierda- give you everything I have, gonna-ahhhhh! Fuck!"

Just like that, Frankie was spilling inside you, hips stuttering with one final thrust as he painted your walls with hot, thick ropes of his spend, balls drawing up into his stomach while he milked himself of every last drop he had to give.

Through heavy breaths and gritted teeth, Frankie carefully pulled out his softening cock, sitting back on his heels to watch the mix of your spend begin to drip out of your hole, awestruck but the wet and shiny mess between your thighs, pussy puffy, swollen and leaking with him.

But for just as animalistic as it made Frankie to watch his cum seep out of your spent cunt, there was an even more primitive part of him that need to make sure that you stayed full of him, to mark his territory inside of you.

Shifting to lay on his stomach, Frankie kept your legs slung over his shoulders, pushing your thighs to your chest to spread you open, watching more of his seed dribble out of your pussy. With a satisfied groan rumbling deep in his chest, Frankie stuck out his tongue, swiping it up to collect the warm mixture of your arousal before pushing it back into your heat, gently fucking you with his mouth as you whined and writhed beneath him.

Once he was satisfied with his cum stuffed back inside you, Frankie couldn't help but look up at you with the most satisfied smirk spread across his face, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before crawling up to trap your body beneath his, resting his weight on top of you with his head nestled between your breasts, big brown puppy dog eyes staring up at you.

"Are you okay, baby?" He cooed, reaching up to gently stroke your cheek, thumb rubbing soft circles into your skin. "It wasn't too much, was it?"

"No, it was amazing, Frankie." You smiled, reaching down to run your fingers through the messy curls of his sweat-ridden hair, heart swelling with how quickly Frankie had flipped the switch from assertive to soft and sweet. "We should watch football like that more often."

"Baby, if this is how you wanna watch football, I won't let us miss another fucking game the rest of this season."

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