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PEDRO PASCAL

Triple Frontier (2019) - Behind the Scenes

Send help pretty pls.

To Feel Your Body Against Mine

Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Word count-4.5k

Prompt- secret relationship

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), secret relationship, feelings, praise, sex in a public bathroom, softness, oral (f receiving), creampie, alcohol mention, a shitty ex, attempted assault (not detailed), mild violence (not against reader), happy ending, reader is a bartender/waitress, reader is Santi's sister but not physically described at all other than body parts, no use of y/n

Notes- For @burntheedges Roll a Trope writing challenge! I'm so excited to be able to participate and I got such a fun trope too! And I definitely made myself hot and bothered writing that second spicy scene lol! I hope everyone enjoys this!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please also follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

~

“Mmm… Frankie…” you moaned as you leaned your head back against the bathroom mirror.

He hummed your name in your ear as he smirked against your face.

“We’re gonna get caught if we take too much longer,” you huffed as you felt the warm embrace of his body against yours. 

“Yeah,” he groaned as he thrust into you, “But you feel so fucking good, baby,” his tone dropped as he thrusted again, “Can’t fucking stop.”

“Oh fuck,” you cried out as your eyes rolled back into your head.

Frankie had you on the bathroom counter in the employee bathroom at the bar you worked at. The moment the two of you had the chance to slip away, you took it, and quickly you clawed each other’s clothes off, desperate for one another. To have his cock fill you up again filled that need that left you feeling empty. To be connected to him once more was something that your body, and your heart, craved more than anything. To feel his strong arms around you as you wrapped your legs around his waist made everything feel perfect, even if you were currently in a dirty bathroom. 

And Frankie’s feelings reflected yours. From the moment he first met you all those years ago, he instantly fell for you. And to finally have you in his arms, to feel himself inside your pussy, to be able to call you his… it was better than heaven for him. Even from the second he walked into the bar and saw you with the drink mixer in your hand, the way your breasts swung then you shook it, he knew he was going to fuck you in the bathroom the moment he got the chance.

Your relationship was perfect. Even from the first night you spent together, it felt as if the two of you had been together for years. Everything just fell into place perfectly, like you were two puzzle pieces that finally clicked together to form the picture that was your life. Everything felt right. Everything felt perfect, like things were the way they should be.

It was almost perfect that is. There was only one problem: no one knew. No one could know. Because you were Santigo’s sister. 

“He’ll freak out if he finds out about us,” you had once told Frankie, “Let’s just keep it between us for now. We’ll figure out the right time to tell him later.”

But that didn’t matter now. All that mattered to Frankie now was you. You were the entire world to him as he fucked you in the bar bathroom. The way your mouth dropped open to let the beautiful cries flow freely was more intoxicating to him than the drinks you served. The way your breasts swung with his every thrust was captivating. The way your inner muscles clenched around his cock sent jolts of pleasure up his spine.

“Fuck you feel so fucking good,” he groaned. 

Sweat lined your brow as you clung to Frankie. One hand buried itself in his hair, tugging hard, while the other dug into his broad shoulder. All you could do was scream in pleasure as he rocked faster into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

“Fuck! Frankie, right there!” you moaned as you arched your back.

With one harsh grunt, Frankie thrust forward and both of you fell apart at the same time. You and Frankie both cried out as your bodies trembled against each other. Clinging to each other for dear life, you moaned loudly. Thankfully, the loud music from the bar drowned out your screams, yet at the time neither of you cared about that. All you cared about was the other as you rode out your climaxes together. 

Frankie huffed as he stilled himself inside you for a moment, hot and sweaty from the passionate lovemaking in the tiny bathroom. He let out a deep breath as he opened his eyes for a moment before closing them again to kiss you deeply. He savored the taste of you on his tongue as he slowly and carefully pulled out of you, swallowing the whimper you let out. His hand cupped the side of your face as his thumb stroked your cheek tenderly.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he mumbled as he rested his forehead against yours.

“So are you, Frankie,” you smirked back at him before you kissed him again. But, as much as you wanted the moment to last forever, you knew time was against you. “We really do need to get back now,” you sounded disappointed, “Don’t want anyone to get suspicious.” 

Frankie’s face dropped; he didn’t want the moment to end yet either, “Yeah,” he nodded as he helped you dress before slipping his own clothes back on.

Placing his trusty hat back on his head, you gave him one last kiss, “You go first. I’ll be behind you in a second.”

His dark, pleading eyes looked into yours as three words rushed to the tip of his tongue. But, just like every time before, they remained unspoken as he unlocked and left the bathroom.

You let out a deep sigh as you turned to the mirror and adjusted yourself for a moment before you also left your little hideaway and went back to the real world. The real world where as far as anyone was concerned, you and Frankie were just friends. 

*

You grinned from behind the bar as you watched the guys at their table. Santiago, your brother, and the guys who got each other through tough times that you couldn’t even imagine all laughed together. The four of them best of friends, brothers in arms. You couldn’t hear their conversation, but you could tell they enjoyed their time together, as they always did when the four of them convened. 

“There you are, nena!” Santiago exclaimed as you walked up to the table with a tray of drinks, “Where’ve you been?”

Frankie swallowed nervously, but hid it under the brim of his hat.

“In case you haven’t noticed, it’s busy in here,” you gestured over your shoulder to the crowd at the bar, “Some of us work for a living,” you added with a smirk. Glancing over for a brief moment, you caught Frankie’s eye and saw him relax his shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah,” Santiago shrugged, “As long as these assholes keep their hands to themselves and off my sister.” He shit a pointed glare towards another table of guys who made no effort to hide the way they checked you out when you walked by.

Will and Benny burst into laughter before Will spoke up, “Man you really have the overprotective brother thing down pat, don’t you, Pope?”

“Yeah,” Benny added as he sipped his drink.

Santiago rolled his eyes, “Shut up, assholes.”

You mirrored your brother’s eye roll before you turned and walked away, aware of a pair of eyes stealthily on your ass as you did so. A grin lit up your face while your back was to the guys.

Chatter echoed around him as he lost himself in your figure as the guys went back to their conversation. Vaguely, he was aware they were reminiscing about good times in the past before they turned their attention to Benny’s upcoming fight. The Miller brothers seemed to focus more on each other as Will gave his usual encouraging words to his little brother.

“Que pasas, hermano?” Santiago asked, noticing Frankie’s distant expression.

Frankie shook himself out of his thoughts and back to his best friend, “Nada,” he replied a little too quickly, “Nothing,” he repeated in a more leveled tone, “Just thinking is all,” he said as he took a sip of his drink and savored the taste that mixed with your that lingered on his tongue.

“That’s dangerous,” Santiago quipped playfully.

He rolled his eyes as he adjusted his hat. After a breath, Frankie chose his words carefully so as to not arouse suspicion, “Would it really be so bad if your sister found someone? Like found the right someone who treats her well?”

He pointed a stare at him for a moment before he took a swig of his drink and answered, “If it were the right person, yeah. She has a habit of picking real shitty ones though,” Santiago made a face as he pictured a particular ex of yours. But, he decided Frankie’s question was harmless, “But for now, I got my best friends watching over her when I can’t,” he placed a hand on his shoulder, “Thanks man, I know I can count on you.”

Frankie gave him a smile that hid the way he truly felt, “Anytime, man.”

*

“Oh Frankie… Ay mierda,” you moaned as you writhed on his bed.

The moon was high in the sky, illuminating Frankie’s bedroom. It was just the right amount of light to make for a romantic night in, and Frankie took full advantage of it. In between your legs he found a bliss unlike anything else. There was only one place he loved kissing you more than your lips…

Frankie groaned into you as he dug his hands into your thighs. As much as he wanted to tell you how beautiful you were or how delicious you tasted, he just couldn’t break himself away from your pussy. He slurped loudly, not caring how obscene the sounds he made were, especially when they made you moan and make such lovely sounds.

“Ay dios mio,” you cried out as one hand landed in his hair while the other clutched onto the sheets for dear life. The way his tongue so expertly found all your sensitive spots never ceased to amaze you… and always left you breathless.

Another growl emitted from deep within Frankie’s throat as he devoured you with even more fervor. His tongue swirled around your clit, making you whimper with every pass, and he could tell you were close.

Let me taste your cum, baby, he thought as he ran his tongue up and down your folds. The tip of his nose hit your clit as he dipped his tongue into your entrance, darting it in and out a few times before running back up. The moment his lips wrapped around your clit, you screamed and tugged at his hair.

“Frankie! Fuck!” you cried out as your legs trembled on either side of his head.

He tightened his grip on you as he sucked hard on your clit. And that was all it took to send you over the edge. With a loud scream, you came hard against his face, rocking your hips against his prominent nose as you rode out your climax.

Like a man dying of thirst, Frankie greedily lapped up your release as he kept his rhythm with his tongue. He didn’t want to waste a drop of your sweet juices, and he didn’t want to stop until you were entirely spent. His cock strained with need, but he ignored it in favor of your pleasure.

With one last gasp, you flopped down limp on the bed, and Frankie broke away from your cunt with a loud pop. He wanted your body through glazed over eyes as his chin glistened with your cum. He watched with fiery eyes as your breasts rose and fell with your heavy breaths as you came down from your high.

“Fuck you are so fucking sexy, baby,” he growled as he lunged forward and captured your lips with his own.

You moaned into him as you wrapped your arms and legs around his body as he covered you. A rumble from Frankie’s chest reverberated between your bodies as he rutted against you.

“I need you, baby,” Frankie sounded so desperate, “Fuck I can’t get enough of you.”

“Then fuck me, Francisco,” you mewled as you bucked your hips against his, feeling his rock hard cock against your slick pussy.

All he could do was growl as he angled his hips against you. Frankie slipped a hand between your bodies to guide his cock to your entrance, and the moment the tip hit your wetness, you both gasped.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed as he easily slid into you, your pussy still soaking wet from how avidly he devoured you.

“Oh my god…” you dropped your head back onto the mattress as you felt his cock stretch you out. You groaned and dug your nails into his back as you surrendered yourself to him completely. 

“Shit I’m not gonna last long with how fucking good you feel,” Frankie muttered as he started to rock in and out of you, feeling your walls around him with every thrust.

Any words escaped your mind the moment he started thrusting in and out of you. All you could do was moan and hold onto him as his cock filled you over and over again. In the moonlight, Frankie fucked you with everything he had. You felt the passion behind every thrust of his hips, and the way he held you while he ravaged you was unlike anything you had ever experienced before.

This was not just fucking. Frankie was making love to you in both the sweetest and roughest way he could. And it was everything you needed and more. Just as he was addicted to you and your pussy, you were addicted to him. You clawed at his back, pulling him closer as if you couldn’t get enough of him. You wanted to feel every inch of his body against you while his thick cock filled you up over and over again. You wanted… need him more than air.

Frankie was mesmerized by you. Before you pulled him closer, he watched as your breasts swung wildly with every thrust of his hips. And as he covered you with his body, he could feel your heart pound in your chest. He couldn’t get enough of the way you wrapped your arms and legs around him, wordlessly telling him you needed more, needed him closer. 

And he was happy to oblige. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as he murmured your name over and over with every thrust, “Baby I’m close.” Sweat lined his brow, making the thick locks of hair stick to his forehead.

“Cum in me, Frankie,” you whispered as you pressed your forehead against his, “Let me feel you.”

Your words alone almost made him lose control. But Frankie wasn’t going over the edge without you, so he snaked his hand in between your bodies to rub at your clit.

“Oh fuck,” you cried out as his touches sent jolts of pleasure up your spine, “Frankie…”

“I know baby,” he moaned, “I’ve got you…”

His thrusts became erratic as the room spun around him. Moans and cries of pleasure echoed between your bodies, and neither of you were sure who made which sounds. It didn’t matter anyway, you were connected at one, fitted together perfectly as if you were meant for each other.

Frankie felt his orgasm quickly approaching; with every thrust he was closer and closer. And from the way your inner muscles squeezed his cock, he could tell you were just as close. Pounding into you with fervor, Frankie growled your name as he came hard enough to see stars.

You screamed against his lips as your second climax hit at the same time. Clutching onto Frankie tightly, you trembled underneath him as you came together. Passions exploded between your bodies as Frankie rode out both your climaxes. Tears fell down your cheeks as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through your body. And a shiver ran up your spine as you felt Frankie’s release fill you to the brim while he moaned against your face.

With one last huff, Frankie thrust as deep as he could into you before he collapsed down on top of you with a grunt. You wheezed as the added weight was sudden, but you both burst into laughter as you both went limp against each other. Frankie planted light kisses on the side of your head as he caught his breath and his cock softened inside you. A chill of his own ran up his spine as your laughter sent shocks to his overstimulated cock.

“That was amazing, baby,” Franie murmured in your ear.

“You’re amazing, Frankie,” you whispered back, kissing him wherever you could while you ran your hands up and down his broad back.

Frankie broke away to gaze into your eyes as he propped himself up on his elbows. Again, three words were on the tip of his tongue. He could have said them. He should have said them. You looked so beautiful underneath him in the moonlight. There was no better time than now…

Yet, he didn’t. Instead he said, “I got you,” as he slowly pulled out of you, causing you both to hiss. Frankie gave you an apologetic look when he was fully out of you, and he couldn’t help but glance down and watch his release spill out of your pussy.

He licked his lips, and for a moment he contemplated devouring you once more. But, his muscles ached, and Frankie felt the overwhelming need just to hold you close, to feel your body against his.

Reaching for a tissue on his bedside, Frankie gently, tenderly cleaned you up as you whimpered from the touch. You were overstimulated as well, but in the best way possible. Not wanting to leave your side even for a moment, he just tossed the tissue aside and laid down next to you, gathering you in his arms. You sighed contently as you pressed a light kiss to his chest before you laid your head down comfortably. 

“Hey baby?” Frankie broke the silence after several moments. 

“You alright, Frankie?” You noticed the change in his tone, which made you worry. You rested your hand on his chest, feeling his heart under your palm. 

“Do you ever think maybe we should tell Santiago about… us?”

You let out a deep sigh as you savored the warmth of his embrace for a moment, “I do hate hiding from him,” you admitted, “But I’m just scared to, you know?” Truthfully, you were sure he wouldn’t be as mad as you feared, yet something nagged at you about it. Perhaps because he reacted so badly to the last person you dated, yet he had good reason to. This time, however, it was Frankie, and who would deny Frankie? And the longer this went on, the more frightened you became. You dug yourself in this hole and the longer you hid in it, the more difficult you knew climbing out of that hole would be.

“I know,” he comforted you with a squeeze, “But we can do it together. He can’t be mad for too long,” he let out a soft laugh.

You chuckled, “You’re right,” you hummed in agreement, “We’ll pick a time to sit down with him and tell him the truth, and Will and Benny too.”

“Sounds good, baby,” he kissed the top of your head, “I’ll be right there with you, I promise,” Frankie paused and took a deep breath, “But for now, let’s get some sleep.”

*

It was a quieter night at work, which you were thankful for. So many crowded nights were great for your paycheck, but left you completely exhausted. A few regulars and some newcomers sat scattered around the bar, but you still had some time to just lean against the wall and rest for a bit. It was a calm, peaceful night.

Until the one person you never wanted to see again walked through the doors.

Immediately you were on edge from the moment you saw his sly face, “Ernesto,” you spat through gritted teeth, “What are you doing here?”

His grin sent shivers down your spine, “I missed you, sweetheart.”

“I don’t miss you,” your tone was cold as you held yourself strong, “Get out of here.”

“Oh come on, don’t be like that,” he leaned in close, invading your space and placing a hand on your shoulder, “Give me another chance. I’ve changed.”

“No!” you pushed his hand off your shoulder. But, before you could step away from him, he grabbed your wrist, “Let me go, Ernesto!”

Just as he tried to yank you close enough to him to kiss you, he was ripped away in a flash. Before he could even grunt in confusion, Ernesto found himself stumbling away from you and a man stood between you and him.

“Who the fuck are you?” he snapped.

“Frankie,” you breathed in relief.

“She told you no, so get the fuck out of here before I have to hurt you,” Frankie growled, sounding very unlike his usual self. 

“Fuck off, she’s mine,” Ernesto lunged for Frankie, fists winging.

Frankie clenched his jaw and waited for the opportunity to present itself. In between the flurry of hands from Ernesto, there was an opening. It only took one hit, one precise punch from Frankie right in his nose to send him careening back. Ernesto landed on the floor with a grunt, and all the air was forced out of his lungs as he saw stars from hitting his head.

In a rage, Frankie stepped forward and grabbed Ernesto’s collar, peeling him off the floor, “Have anything to say now, pendejo?” he growled.

It took him a moment to re-orientate himself before he stuttered, “N-no,” all the fight had left Ernesto’s body, “I’m going. I’m going,” he pleaded as he scrambled away and bolted for the door. Frankie watched to make sure he left before he quickly rushed over to you.

*

Santiago hopped out of his truck before he strolled toward the bar you worked at. He had some free time and decided to come see you, especially since he noticed you had been acting differently lately. He cared for you more than anything, and he only ever wanted the best for his sister and only family. He was in a good mood, but as he got closer to the bar, someone burst through the doors and slammed right into him.

“S-sorry,” Ernestro muttered as he looked up from where his gaze was pointed at the ground, “I didn’t mean to… You!” he gasped, recognizing Santiago.

“You!” he snarled as he grabbed Ernesto’s shirt, “What the fuck are you doing here?!” Santiago was ready to hit him, enraged when he thought about how he treated you in the past, but when he noticed the broken nose and blood from his face, he paused.

Ernesto took the opportunity in his hesitation to slip out of his grip and run away. Santiago thought about going after him, but his priority was more on his sister’s safety, so he ran inside to check on you. And when he rushed through the doors, the sight that met him froze him in his tracks.

Frankie was there, holding you tightly and whispering into your ear as you nuzzled into his shoulder. He couldn’t hear what exactly he said, but he could tell Frankie was whispering words of comfort into your ear in between feather light kisses. Santiago wasn’t sure how to feel and he stood in dumbfounded stillness for several moments.

“What the hell is going on here?” his voice was a low grumble as the emotions slipped out before he could stop them.

You gasped as you snapped your head up from where it rested on Frankie’s shoulder, “Santi…” you breathed, tears still fresh in your eyes, “I can explain,” you scrambled out of his arms and up to your feet.

Frankie followed right behind you, “Pope, I…” he started before he was interrupted.

“Wait,” you hissed to both of them, noticing the stares from the few patrons in the bar, “Can we take this outside?” You really did not want an audience.

Santiago remained tense, but looked around and nodded. In silence, the three of you slipped out and towards your brother’s truck for some privacy. The tension was palpable as you made your way out of the bar. Yet, Frankie still slid his hand in yours despite the glare from Santiago.

“Santi, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you blurted out, “We just…”

“How long?” Santiago cut you off with a simple question, “How long have you kept this from me?”

All the breath felt like it was punched out of your lungs and suddenly you realized why he was so angry. All your life, it had been just you and Santi; brother and sister alone in the world. You trusted each other with everything, and you were all each other had. This was the first time you kept something from him, and you noticed the hurt in his eyes that you felt like you had to hide this from him.

“A few months,” Frankie answered for you in a quiet voice.

Santiago let out a heavy sigh as his shoulders dropped and the tough person melted away. Putting his hands on his hips, he looked between the two of you, “And you couldn’t tell me this whole time?” his tone was softer than before, and the hurt was apparent. 

“Santi,” you started, taking a step forward, “I’m sorry.”

He glanced at you before he stepped past you and met Frankie face to face, “Will you take care of her?” he asked, “You’ll never hurt her?”

Frankie’s eyes softened, “Yeah,” he breathed, “I swear, man,” he continued, “I’d never do anything to hurt her,” he paused, “I’m in love with your sister, man.”

The confession made both you and Santiago’s mouths drop open in surprise. “Frankie…” you gasped in a whisper from behind your brother.

Santiago recovered first, “Fuck, bro,” he smiled through the emotions, “Guess I can’t be too pissed at you… You did kick her ex’s ass pretty damn good.” He turned over his shoulder and smiled genuinely at you before turning back to Frankie, “Just don’t make out or do any of that shit in front me, ok?” he said, putting his hand on his shoulder. 

The relief showed on Frankie’s face as he too broke out into a smile. His hand landed on Santiago’s shoulder as you also sighed in relief behind them. “Deal,” he said before the two friends embraced.

Santiago turned to you and took you up in his arms, hugging you tightly.

“I’m sorry I kept this from you, Santi,” you whispered to him as you hugged him back.

Breaking away from the hug, he kept his hands on your forearms, “I get why you didn’t,” he said softly, “I can be a little much when it comes to my family.” He turned between you and Frankie, “How about we celebrate? Drinks are on me.”

“Do I have to make them?” you teased.

Santiago and Frankie both laughed as you all embraced each other. Your brother patted you both on the shoulder before he ushered you both to his truck. Frankie slipped his hand in yours, happy to finally be able to take your hand in public without the fear of getting caught. A new chapter in your lives was just starting, and finally everything was absolutely perfect. 

✨Fall Into the Dark With Me✨

Dark Arts Professor! Joel Miller x Herbology Professor Fem! reader

A/N: I have had this idea for the longest time to mix the two things I love the most together. I hope you love it as much as I do! Hogwarts AU with Joel Miller was the best idea I’ve had in a while. He is an absolute menace in this, and I love him very much 🥰 Thank you to @jennaispunk for beta reading!

Summary: You’ve had your eyes on the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor for a while. Just like he’s had his eyes on you. He’s a sly, sneaky, teasing Slytherin, and you’re a shy, meek Hufflepuff. Will your little flirting game suddenly lead to more once he gets you alone in a room?

Rating: Explicit 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 7.9k

Tags: Slytherin! Joel, Hufflepuff! reader, relentless teasing, flirting, pining, Joel is a menace, no use y/n, Hogwarts AU, Joel has a dirty mouth, oral (fem! receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, porn with plot, Harry Potter spells and references, no outbreak au, Dark Arts! Joel

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

  August blew in as fast as the hot summer breeze slipped out of reach. No more cozy afternoons curled up on your plush couch with your cat. You were back to big green open lands, back to the scents of willow trees and butterbeer, back to Hogwarts. Home for the next school year. 

   The thing was, you weren’t prepared for what awaited you behind those grand castle walls this semester, not even a little bit. You weren’t prepared for him. 

   Joel Miller, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, the absolute bane of your existence. Ever since you locked eyes with him that first time in the Great Hall, you couldn’t get those gorgeous brown irises out of your head. 

   He was a menace; you could just tell. You knew the moment you saw that smug smirk on his face, those tousled grey flecked curls you could lace your fingers through, that patchy salt-and-pepper beard that you imagined might feel so good trailing down the skin of your neck with plush lips teasing across your body. 

   It was the way he carried himself. Like he owned every single damn room he walked into. Button-up silky shirts that he rolled up to his elbows, exposing those long, corded veins that skated down his tanned forearms. But let’s not forget the emerald snake tattoo that slithered its way around his forearm, accentuating the tanned skin that glowed almost golden under the warm, sunlit skies. Marking his Slytherin blood with ink. And those hands. Big, thick fingers that he’d wrap around his dark brown dragon heartstring wand as he chanted spells inside his classroom. And the way his eyes always seemed to shift toward yours in a crowded room. Those dark brown coffee-colored eyes that seemed to put you under a hypnotic spell. 

   He was trouble. You knew it, too. 

   It all started that first day, after that first heated stare at the sorting ceremony. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off you for the entire night. He didn’t hide it either. And then it was the casual grazing of hands in crowded halls, the flirtatious smiles and winks across the dining hall, the small conversations in the outside gardens as he’d slip a green apple from his pocket and slowly take a bite out of it. His eyes never leaving yours as they devoured you. Just like you’d wish he’d do to your skin, your lips, your flustered core. 

   He knew what he was doing, he knew damn well. 

   It was just a flirtatious banter between a tall, handsome Slytherin and a shy, gentle Hufflepuff. One a Dark Arts professor, the other a Herbology professor. It was only casual conversations and the occasional grazing of hands. Until it wasn’t. 

   No. Then he started taunting you, playing petty games. The hard-to-get kind of games. 

   One of the assistant professors, Priscilla Wilson, would always try to get attention from Professor Miller. Finding any reason to reach over and brush her fingers over his broad shoulders. Flip her long, fiery red hair, bat her long eyelashes, giggle every time he gives in to her flirting and winks over at her, making her nearly fall out of her seat. And every single time he’d entertain her, he’d look your way and fucking smirk at you. 

   Fucking smirk.

   Smug bastard. You just want to slap the stupid smirk off his face, but you also just really want to fucking kiss it off. 

   You’re so royally fucked.

   He loves to tease you. Loves to put you right on the edge where you’ll either lash out and call him on his bluff, or just scoff and brush it off your shoulder like a Cornish Pixie. 

   He knows damn well it gets you all flustered. Cheeks red, hot breath blowing from your mouth, pursed lips as he smirks your way while other women fawn over him. Drool practically hanging from their gawking mouths. You can practically feel the pride he wears inside that broad chest of his. Brown eyes narrowed while he dares you to do anything about it. He knows you won’t. Knows you’re better than to give in to his little tricks. So you just take it and stomp out of the room. Every single time while his devious chuckle floats through the room, right into your ears. 

   Well, he’d gotten into your head long ago. You gave in to the temptation of his smoldering brown eyes, the playful smirks that curl across his plush lips, that fucking Southern accent that drives you up the walls when you’re in your bed late at night. 

   He’s poisoned you. Enchanted you with his cunning Slytherin ways. Handsome, ambitious, prideful, strong, mischievous, smoldering. That’s exactly why you slip your hand under the cool sheets night after night. Fingers curling up inside you, thumb stroking light circles over your needy clit, moaning his name, pretending that it’s him under your sheets taking you over the edge. 

   His hands, his fingers, his filthy words, his mouth, his cock, his everything giving you orgasm after orgasm. And when you’re finished, sweat coating every inch of your skin, you feel breathless and dirty. 

   This is what he wants. You all hot and bothered for him. Well, he won because you’re already completely smitten for the Slytherin man. 

   And one day, he’ll give in to you, too. 

   The cool air whips past your hair as students shuffle by in the busy hall, rushing so they won’t be late to their classes. Large, cascading open windows filter sunlight through the massive hallway, historical paintings fill the stone walls, towering archways pave every corner, wafts of autumn leaves and pumpkins marinate through the air. 

   Hogwarts is peaceful, and this place is magical.

   As the last of the students disappear down corridors and hurry into classrooms, you’re suddenly alone in the hallway. No noise except for the classroom in front of you. But it’s not just any classroom. 

   It’s the Dark Arts classroom. Joel’s classroom. 

   You lean against the stony wall, wait until all the students quiet down. Eventually, Joel shuts them up and then there’s nothing but his deep, Southern drawl filling the room, filtering out just enough in the hall for you to sit and listen. 

   You do this often. More like every other day. Sitting outside his classroom, listening to his melodic voice teaching about his passion. He’s always had a love for the Dark Arts and now, so do you. 

   As you lean against the edge of the doorway, back against the stone-covered wall, you seem to get lost in the deep drawl of his voice like an enchanted siren. You could listen to him for hours on end. He’s good at what he does. Smart, cunning, brilliant. 

   And by brilliant, you mean he’s wiser than some of the ghosts that lurk these castle corridors. Some people even whisper that he can speak Parseltongue. And you don’t doubt it for one second. The man would open the Chamber of Secrets if someone would let him. 

   But Joel doesn’t need permission from anyone. He does what he wants, when he wants, and who he wants. You just wish that someone was you. 

   You sigh as you lean against the wall, panting every time he starts lecturing on different subjects about the Dark Arts. Today, he’s teaching about werewolves. And that is a subject you happen to find quite fascinating. 

   “Miss Flora, can you tell me how—.”

   You shift your weight and lose your balance, almost tumbling to the polished floor until you grab ahold of the silver-edged door and stop yourself. 

   The classroom grows silent and so does Joel’s bravado voice. 

   Shit. You just got caught red handed. 

   “Think we’ve got a straggler out in the hall. Think they should come in. Don’t you, students?” You hear the smirk in his voice. Like he knows it’s you. But how would he know…

   Oh, right. Because he’s the smartest fucking professor at this school. 

   When he clears his throat, you know you won’t be able to weasel your way out of this one. So, you take a hesitant step into the entrance of his classroom, and there he is. Big brown eyes narrowed just slightly and a smug smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

   God, he’s so good looking.

   “Ahh. Professor. Care to join us?” he asks, stepping around his mahogany desk, tapping the tip of his dragon heartstring wand against the top of his thigh.

   That’s all it takes to have you weak in the knees. Because the way he’s looking at you tells you everything you need to know. He wants to pull your strings, make you shiver, make you pliable. And now’s the perfect opportunity where he can fluster you up without even fucking touching you. 

   Shit.

   “Take a seat,” he says, nodding to an open seat at the back of the room.

   You shake your head and take a step back, careful not to look straight into his brown eyes. “Oh, no. I shouldn’t interrupt. I was just—.” 

   “Sit. Down.” It’s not a question but a demand.

   You purse your lips and take the empty seat while several of the students snicker and whisper to each other. 

   Great. Now you’re really blushing. 

   You take a look around the classroom while Joel continues his lesson, flicking his wand to turn to the next slide overhead. The room is dim, curtains drawn so only the floating candles and twinkling lights from hanging lamps fill the room. A dragon’s skeleton is displayed in the back of the room, his mahogany desk covered in neat papers, dark artifacts, and ink quills. Banners of the forbidden forest and creatures of the black lake are spread high across the elegant stone walls. A dusty chandelier with glittering crystals tops off the room, painting golden sparkles on the ceiling. 

   The room is very him. Dark, divine, mysterious, gorgeous. It even fucking smells like him. Cedar wood, mahogany, green apples, whiskey. The room has his trademark all over it.

   You sit back against the wooden chair and watch the way he commands a room. The slight flick of his wand every time he paces back and forth, his rapt attention each time a student answers or asks a question, the way his thick fingers glide through his tousled curls, the way his gaze always seems to come back to you. 

   Werewolf facts slip from his tongue. Their history, their patterns, their targets. One of your favorite creatures to learn about. Especially when it’s coming from him and his deep, magnetic voice.

   It’s like the room turns ten degrees hotter with every minute that passes. Sweat pricks behind the back of your neck, your thighs warm as you cross a leg over your knee, your black skirt of your dress hiking up a little too high, your heart thundering against your chest. 

   You’re a fucking mess because you’re watching him. Twitching, jittering, and shifting every other minute in your seat. He fucking loves to watch you squirm, too. You can see him smirking from the front of the classroom, and it’s all for you.

   “Can anyone tell me what’s the cure for a werewolf bite?” he asks, pacing the room back and forth, eyeing each student with a patient glance.

   His footsteps echo around the cascading room, his hands behind his back, a slight tick in his jaw when no one answers.

   “There’s a cure?” one of the students questions, heads whipping around to face the baffled third year with confusion written all over her innocent face.

   “Yes,” Joel says with a clipped tone. “C’mon. Think. What two things can cure a werewolf bite?”

   Nothing. Not even a peep comes from the copious amount of students in the room. Just eyes to the ground and awkward shifting in their seats. None of them know.

   “Collin?” Joel asks, standing in front of the blonde boy’s chair. His scared blue eyes give away that he’s intimidated and doesn’t know the answer.

   “Umm. I—ugh. Gillyweed?” he guesses, lifting his hopeful eyes when he thinks he may be right.

   “No,” Joel snaps. “Gillyweed allows you to breathe underwater. It does not cure a werewolf bite. Maybe read the text next time before class and then you’d know.” Joel narrows his eyes at Collin, and the scared third year looks down in shame. 

   God. He really intimidates everyone. Doesn’t he?

   “Think. What. Cures. The. Bite.” He accentuates every syllable, draws it out with a deep growl, narrows his eyes into thin slits when nobody can answer. He looks like he’s about to snap with how tight he’s holding his wand. But before he does, you decide to answer.

   “Silver and dittany,” you respond, and then the students turn with wide eyes. Right in your direction. You slide down in your chair just a little to alleviate the embarrassment of all eyes on you. 

   Joel turns to you and smirks, his eyes turning darker with every second that ticks by. It’s like he’s staring right through your soul, sucking it out until every single bit belongs to him. 

   “Clever girl,” he whispers. Just loud enough for you to hear because it was meant directly for you, not the class. His eyes flash onyx as he stares your way, heat rising in your cheeks. But in the next second, his eyes are elsewhere. 

   “Could learn a thing or two if you paid attention to your professor in Herbology,” he growls, the closed windows rumbling as his deep voice booms through the large corridor. It’s enough to make goosebumps prickle down the length of your arms.

   The students shake and quiver in their seats, eyes casted down to the dark material of the floor. And in the next five minutes, Joel’s dismissing them.

   “Remember, read chapters ten through twelve before the end of the week. And for the love of Salazar, pay attention in your classes. All of them. Class dismissed,” he clips, teeth bared and jaw clenched.

   The students hurry and filter out of the classroom, black robes flying as they scurry off out of the wrath of Professor Miller. 

   As you get up to make your way out to the hall, he stops you. “Not you.” His deep voice sends shivers down your spine.

   You freeze, just a few feet from the doorway. And then he takes his wand and shuts the heavy doors with a bang that makes you jump from the sound.

   Alone. You’re alone with him. In his classroom, on his free hour. And suddenly, the room is stifling.

   “So. You like to listen in on my lessons now, don’t ya?” he asks, crossing his strong arms over his broad chest, large biceps clinging to the white button-up shirt, his green striped tie loose around his neck.

   “I—uhh.” You’re all of a sudden completely speechless as he stands in front of you, his woodsy scent making you dizzy with need.

   “You don’t gotta play coy, sweetheart. Know you sit out there listenin’ all the time,” he smiles, flashing his white teeth and making you blush at the name sweetheart.

   His Southern drawl always made you a little worked up.

   “Why didn’t you say anything then if you knew?” you ask, eyebrows threaded together, lips pursed tight. 

   “Figured I’d jus’ let ya indulge. If you know what I mean,” he smirks, giving you a seductive wink that sends heat to your cheeks.

   He’s always so fucking cunning. Quick comebacks that could send you down to your knees. Maybe that’s what he wants.

   “You’re unbelievable. You know that?” you spit, hands on your hips, waiting for him to say something smart back.

   “Am I?” He quirks a brow, steps closer where you can practically taste his strong cologne. And that’s it. You’re so done for.

   “Yes.” You stand your ground firm. Eyes icy as you look at his fiery ones.

   Jesus. The man could burn this entire castle down with one stare.

   “How so?” he asks curiously, eyeing you with heightened interest.

   “Why don’t you ask Priscilla? You know, since she’s always hanging around you.” You roll your eyes, shake your head, and throw your hair behind your shoulders with a glare. Like that’ll show him you mean business.

   “Don’t do that,” he says quietly, brown eyes trained on you. 

   “Don’t do what?” you ask, anger boiling on the back of your tongue. 

   “Stop bein’ fuckin’ jealous,” he growls, his large hands hovering over yours, heat simmering between the small space between the two of you. Just like a sweltering sauna. You can practically feel the flames licking at your skin. All over you.

   “Then stop flirting with her right in front of me,” you glower, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. He just laughs at you like you just said the funniest joke in the world. He can’t be fucking serious.

   “You know I only do it to get a rise out of you,” he smiles, painting your cheeks crimson at how smitten you feel when you see that deep dimple appear in the corner of his left cheek when he’s smiling. But nevertheless, he’s not getting off that easy. Not today, at least.

   “Oh, don’t I fucking know,” you scoff, your heel digging into the hard surface of the floor. Showing just how much he’s getting under your skin. 

   “You know, you’re pretty adorable when you’re all flustered. You know that?” He brushes the back of his palm against your jawline, barely touching you but setting you completely on fire.

   You bat his hand away, fix him with a tight-lipped scowl. “Flustered? That’s why you torture me day after day?”

   He nods his head and smirks, letting his big ego fly around the room like a barn owl. “Mhm. Like you all worked up. Probably makes you all hot and bothered, doesn't it? Bet you touch yourself at night jus’ thinkin’ of me.” And there’s that damn smirk. The one that’s got your stomach all tied in knots.

   “You’re such an asshole,” you scoff as you push at his broad chest, but he barely moves an inch. He’s like a thick brick wall that you just can’t seem to penetrate. No matter what you do. 

   “You fuckin’ love it, though,” he challenges, brown eyes turning into dreamy bedroom eyes.

   No, you’re not doing this. You’re not playing his game.

   “No. And I’m leaving.” You turn with the flip of your hair, stomping your way up the row of empty desks. And when your hand wraps around the gold-threaded doorknob, you feel the faint buzz of power permeate around your body.

   “The hell you are,” he growls. “Accio!” 

   It feels like an invisible string wraps around your entire body, and suddenly you’re being pulled back by a sharp tug. Your body whisks through the air, and you have no power to stop the force.

   He snakes his arms around your waist, tugging you against his broad chest, catching you before you go flying into his lavish desk. You gasp, the air knocked from your lungs as his warm breath fans over your lips. Green apples and whiskey serenade your senses, and suddenly you’re a ragdoll in his arms. There at his beck and call, whatever he needs. You’re done for.

   “That’s cheating,” you whisper, voice barely audibly as your throat closes up the closer he brings you against his large body.

   “It ain’t cheatin’. It’s called magic, sweetheart,” he winks, making an exaggerated groan pull from your lips. 

   He’s always so smooth. Like a cold glass of neat whiskey that runs straight to your stomach, ending in your core. 

   “What are you doing, Joel?” you sigh, giving up the fight. You stop shoving against him and relax, your body still against his.

   “Givin’ in,” he smiles, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist, one hand hovering against your lower back. Right at the end of the zipper of your dress.

   “Like you gave into Priscilla?” you spit out, narrowed eyes trained right on him. You’d love to give him a taste of his own medicine one of these days. Drive him crazy like he drives you mad every single fucking day.

   “Now hold on there,” he says with a pause, sliding one of his hands up to your wrist, holding it tight against his chest. “I never even laid a finger on Priscilla.”

   Your jaw drops, and you wag a finger at him. “You sure about that? Because she has a pretty loud mouth.”

   “She ain’t the one I want, sweetheart. And you should know that.” He fixes you with a deep stare. His eyes look like glowing, syrupy orbs. You’re pretty sure you want to get lost in them. Let them drag you down into their dark depths where you’ll never see daylight again.

   “Oh? And who is it that you want?” you whisper, voice suddenly shaky and nervous. 

   When he nods down toward you, you nearly crumble at his feet. “The only woman I wanna be touchin’ is the pretty Hufflepuff that’s all flustered in my arms.” His smile makes you lose your balance, but he just holds you tighter. Fingers curling against the soft cotton of your dress, burning your skin even from the layers that cover you. 

   He might as well cast Incendio on you. You’re already burning.

   “You’re such a tease,” you giggle, pushing him playfully in the chest, letting the soft fabric of his shirt cling to your skin.

   “That I am,” he chuckles, making you nearly hyperventilate at his cocky demeanor. He knows he’s slick; you’ll give him that.

   “I need to get to class,” you sigh, trying to break free of his grip, but he only holds you tighter. No escaping him.

   “No, you don’t. You don’t have class for another hour. And neither do I.”

   The sudden realization hits you like an oncoming train. He’s got you trapped in his web, ready to sink his teeth in you at any second.

   The dim lights seem to darken even more as the thick tension blows through the classroom. Silence takes over, and you’re left with nothing but your racing heartbeat and his shallow breath. Warmth pools through your core as you watch those smoldering brown eyes light your skin on fire.

   You’re wrecked.

   “Well, I just—.” You try to take a step back, but then his hands run down your arms slowly, goosebumps taking hold in every single place he leaves his mark. 

   “Why don’t you jus’ relax here for a bit? Can think of somethin’ to unwind that pretty mind of yours.”

   He starts slowly circling you. Calloused fingers running over your back. Warm breath blowing down the base of your neck. Lips brushing against the shell of your ear, causing you to gasp at the contact. 

   “I don’t think so, Joel. I—.” You stop talking the moment he moves your hair across your right shoulder. His lips drag down the side of your neck, barely grazing but enough to make warmth flood through your lace.

   “C’mon now. Know you want this. Know you want my touch.” He takes a hand and moves it around the front of your waist. “My fingers.” He brushes his hand lightly down your leg, dangerously close to your inner thigh. “My lips.” He molds his mouth around your collarbone and sucks, eliciting a moan from your lips.

   “Oh. That’s… oh.” He nips at your shoulder, pulling your sleeve down just enough to make contact with your skin. And fuck, it feels good.

   You want to run, say no, give him hell for the hell he’s given you. But you’re a moth drawn to the flame. And you have no will to say no to him. 

   “Give in, sweetheart. Give in to the dark side. Know you want to,” he whispers in the shell of your ear, leaving you breathless as the sweet incantations put a spell on you.

   “I uhh—yes…” you lull as he turns you around and pushes you back into the front of his desk. His large stature towering over you. Hands on either side of the desk, caging you into him.

   “Say it. Say you want this. That you want me.” His mouth hovers over yours, blows hot air where you can basically taste the whiskey that encompasses his tongue. And you feel it then. That thick bulge against your thigh. Letting you know just how hard he is for you. And fuck, you think you might pass out from how stifling the room is now.

   “I—.” He slowly cups the back of your thighs and lifts you up, right on the edge of his mahogany desk, legs dangling from the position. He takes his wand and starts spreading your legs until he’s standing between them, one hand skimming over the top of your shaking thigh. Then he throws his wand to the side of the desk, uses his hands to undress you. Starting with your skirt. He lifts it slowly over your hips, leaving you with your white lace panties exposed to the cool air, completely soaked through.

   He rakes a hand heavily down his mouth, eyes wide as he stares at the mess you’ve made. “Look at you. Fuckin’ soakin’ for me, sweetheart. This all for me?” he asks, his thumb brushing over your wet center, pressing against your slick-clothed folds.

   “Yes,” you whine as he slowly unzips the back, pushing the dress down until it’s a messy pile on the floor. He unclasps the matching lace bra, throwing that to the side, leaving your perky breasts on full display for him to indulge in.

   He licks his bottom lip seductively slow, practically drooling as he takes in the sight of you all sprawled out and bare for him. He’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life than the vision of you open and ready for him.

   His mouth drags down your throat, down your chest until his lips suctions to your breasts, tongue flicking the pebbled nipples, eliciting more slick in your lace panties.

   “Say you want this, sweetheart. Say you want me,” he breathes, slowly dropping to his knees like he’s worshiping a goddess, hands roaming up your inner thighs, teasing you relentlessly. He slips under your lace, one finger brushing over your clit. You’re a writhing mess beneath him at this point.

   “Oh, fuck. Yes. Want you. Need you, Professor Miller,” you mewl, bucking your hips up to get the friction you so desperately need.

   “Good girl,” he praises, slowly dragging your ruined lace to the floor, leaving you open and bare and dripping for him.

   “Fuck,” he curses, raking a hand down his scruff, eyes lust-blown as he takes you in nice and slow. He’s mesmerized by the beauty before him, and he’s memorizing every single detail about your glistening body. He thinks you’re a fucking angel. All pliant and ready for him. He’ll have you screaming his name in no time.

   From the carnal, possessive way he’s looking at you, you’re pretty sure he’ll save this memory for another time. Bottle it up so he can go back and watch it over and over again, until he sees nothing but you with every waking breath he breathes.

   He materializes in front of you, casting dark shadows all over the silhouette of the walls, tongue dragging up your inner thigh, his thumb teasing the outer edge of your drenched folds.

   “Fuck, Joel,” you mewl, bucking your hips up in the hopes of his lips landing on your mound.

   “Patience, baby. And call me Professor Miller. Love how it sounds falling off your pretty lips,” he chuckles, tongue barely scraping over your needy clit.

   You suck in a breath and grab the crown of his head, locking your fingers in his soft hair. Tousled sandy locks and glittering greys catching the light of the twinkling lamps floating in the room. He looks like a masterpiece.

   “Please, Professor Miller. Need you,” you beg, his hot breath fanning across your aching core. You’re burning for him. 

   “Yeah ya do. Dirty little Hufflepuff,” he chuckles, blowing a puff of warmth over your mound. Slick runs down your inner thighs, and his eyes blow into deep pools of black lust. “Think you might have a little Slytherin in you after all,” he smirks, gliding his thumb through your slick folds and eliciting a high-pitched whine from your mouth.

   “Slyther—ohhh,” you groan as he licks a thick stripe up the entirety of your core. 

   Suddenly, the room is spinning, and you can’t find your balance. You’ll just fall off the edge as long as Joel catches you. You think he will.

   “That’s right. Take it. Let the temptation consume you. Let me slither in and make you come undone,” he drawls out in a husky breath, making you moan at the sound of his deep timbre.

   It’s like you’re cast under a deep spell. Pulling you under, consuming you in copious amounts of pleasure, starlight flashing as your eyes roll back with every flick of his tongue to your puffy clit.

   He tugs you to the very edge of the smooth desk and wraps his arms tightly around your thighs, stretching you open as he ravishes and drowns in the slick of your core. His experienced tongue lapping at your folds. His lips suction around your mound as he pulls you into his warm mouth, sucking and groaning with every taste of you. 

   You drag your nails over the wooden desk, throwing your head back with every lick, every taste he gives you. And God, you feel like you’re flying. His mouth, his tongue, his dirty words, his whole entire aura make you want to lose control. He’s everything all at once, and you don’t know how you’ll ever get enough of him now. 

   He coaxes you on, filling your ears with delicious praises. “Atta fuckin’ girl. Yeah, you like that. Don’t you, filthy Hufflepuff?”

   “Yeah…” you choke out, voice raspy as you delve into the feeling of his smooth tongue igniting a wildfire in your core.

   “Don’t be shy then, sweetheart. Let me hear you,” he demands as he lets go of your puffy clit with a pop, his tongue generously lapping at your drenched folds.

   “The door—we can’t…” you whine.

   He lifts off his knees, hovers his body against yours, and starts to work you as he slides his middle and ring finger inside your dripping hole. 

   Oh, fuck.

   “Door’s locked tight, sweetheart,” he smirks, lust-blown eyes locked on you, his lips brushing over yours.

   “They’ll—ohh. They’ll hear us.” His free hand slides up your waist as his body leans against the desk, his mouth roaming up the crook of your neck.

   “Nah, they won’t. Not when I placed a silencing charm on the room,” he chuckles as his tongue traces the slope of your ear, sending more slick down your thighs.

   Of course he fucking did. You didn’t even hear him cast one. He’s just… that good. 

   “C’mon, messy Hufflepuff. Want you to come for me,” he drawls, his fingers tantalizing and penetrating as he works them nice and slow inside you, knuckles deep in your slick. 

   Fuck.

   Squelching noises fill the room each time he works you over, searching for that one spot that’ll send you over the edge. But God, he found it. And now, he won’t fucking stop hitting that spongy wall that makes your legs shake and voice cry out in orgasmic pleasure.

   “Joel, I’m…”

   “Professor,” he whispers in your ear, his enchanting voice floating through your mind, pulling you over the edge. 

   “Professor—” you hum, your fingers pushing through the sandy hair at the base of his neck, mouth dropped as pleasure starts to rock through you uncontrollably.

   “Yes?” he asks with a bite to his deep voice.

   “I—I’m…”

   His plush lips caress the shell of your ear, his teeth nipping at the delicate skin. “Come for me, pretty girl. Say my name. Tell me who makes you feel good,” he whispers deliciously slow, his melodic voice making you fall apart. “Let go. C’mon, baby. Do it for me.”

   One more curl of his fingers and you’re coming undone. You clench around his thick fingers and let yourself spill for him, covering his knuckles in your slick while you moan his name. “Professor Miller!” It falls off your tongue and rings around the room, echoing back as you lose all control.

   “That’s my good girl,” he praises as he takes you over the edge, slowly working his fingers up and down, letting you ride out your orgasm as tidal waves collide in your body. 

   When the room stops spinning and your vision isn’t blurry anymore, you sit back and stare at him in awe. He’s got the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, obviously proud he made you just cum on his fingers. He’s waited so long to do it. All while teasing and tormenting you so he could make it that much better for you. 

   You should hate him, but you don’t. Oh no. You think you’re addicted to him now. 

   “That feel good?” he asks. His palm sliding over your thigh, thumb massaging slow circles into the crease of your skin. It feels… good — calming.

   He feels good.

   “Yeah. That was—nice,” you finish, eyes peeking up at him through your eyelashes. His eyes are nearly dazzling under the dim lights. Almost like there’s stars soaring through those gold-flecked irises. 

   You stare at each other for a minute, sitting in comfortable silence. And in the next moment, without thinking, you’re grabbing his emerald tie and pulling it toward you. Heat rises in the air as your fingertips scratch down his patchy scruff, indulging in his woodsy cologne. Your lips graze just slightly against his, and flames erupt in his eyes. 

   “Haven’t had enough?” he teases as he pulls your hair softly, lifting your face up to his. His lips brush softly against yours, and it’s like everything seems right in the world. 

   Your breath comes out hot and uneven as you stir beneath him, one arm snaking around the back of his neck. You haven’t tasted him yet, and you’ll be damned if you don’t take this chance. 

   You lift your chin just a smidge higher until you’re practically magnetized to him. “No, Professor Miller. Haven’t had enough yet,” you mewl out, your head dizzy and disoriented.

   He cups the back of your head and smiles, that devilish smirk curling against his mouth. “Then let me show you jus’ how good a Slytherin can make a Hufflepuff feel.”

   He pulls your lips to his and kisses you fiercely, passion consuming you whole. You kiss him back just as desperate, needing to be as close to him as possible. When you open your mouth and invite him in, whiskey and green apples envelop your tastebuds. And you swear you’ve never tasted a better combination. 

   As he pushes you down against his desk, papers fly off in scatters, glass crashes to the ground. Never mind that, he doesn’t even seem the least bit bothered. Right now, all he’s focused on is you. 

   He crawls over you, crowding you with his broad body, his hands roaming up and down your bare skin as if he wants to crawl inside himself, claim you as his own. 

   You frantically pull at his buttons while he helps you unfasten them, quickly throwing his shirt off and tossing it to the side. Dark hair splatters his tanned chest, his happy trail disappearing beneath his black slacks. And God, he’s as hard as a rock underneath. You can see the massive outline of him. 

   He rocks his hips against yours, tongues tangling together as you drink each other down. You could get drunk on the sweet taste of him. You’re pretty sure he’s better than any butter beer you’ve ever tasted. 

   Your body hums with desire, tension coiling in your stomach. You want him, need him like you need air to breathe. You want to feel him inside you. Grinding and thrusting until you combust around him. Until you feel his seed drip down your thighs. You’ve never wanted it this bad with anyone. But with Joel? You’ve never wanted anything more in your life.

   “Professor Miller, please,” you beg as you palm him through his slacks, an audible groan getting lost in between kisses. 

   “Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Wanna hear it,” he slurs as he nips at your lower lip.

   You find his top button and snap it open, finding his zipper next as you drag it down slowly. “Want you inside me, Professor,” you whisper provocatively, leaving your shyness behind just for the moment. 

   He winces as you reach in and start to work his massive cock up and down, spreading precum down his shaft. A quiet groan slips out of his mouth, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard in your life. “Fuck me. This little filthy Hufflepuff wants it bad, don’t she?” he grins, eyes dancing like moonlit stars. 

   He’s so fucking pretty. 

   “Mmm. Yes. Please. I need it. Need you,” you beg. 

   He shoves your hand out of the way and pins it above your head, shoving his slacks and boxers down until he’s completely naked above you. 

   You gawk at how massive he is. Thick, beautiful, long. Precum beads his swollen red tip. Large veins spiral like vines on the underside of his cock. He’s so big; you don’t know how he’ll fit. But you know he’ll make it fit. Stretch you until you can’t take anymore. 

   He’s going to absolutely ruin you, and you’ll let him. You want him to destroy you. 

   He lines the angry tip up with your sex, stroking it up and down along your folds, gathering your slick on his cock as you purr at the feeling. If this feels good then being inside you might end you.

   “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Gonna take real good care of this pretty Hufflepuff pussy,” he smirks darkly, eyes as black as coal. 

   He teases you slowly, dragging the tip through your folds. And when you’re about to beg for more, he thrusts deep inside with a low growl. 

   Your mouth drops open in awe as he stretches you to the max, working his thick length inside you over and over again until you start seeing stars in your vision. He’s so fucking big it feels like he’s splitting you in two; his pleasure driving yours to the finish line. 

   “Professor,” you moan as he thrusts deeper, kissing the back of your cervix. His large hands push your legs back against the wood of the desk, in a twisted pretzel shape. And when he snaps his hips again, you let out a guttural moan that doesn’t even sound like your lilty voice. 

   “That’s it. Let me hear you. Look so pretty with my cock deep inside you,” he chuckles as he drills into you as deep as he can, digging his way to your release. 

   “I—I…” Your voice fades off into a garbled mess as he fucks you relentlessly, speeding up his thrusts until the desk is shaking beneath you. 

   The squelching noises of his cock sliding in and out of your slick and the deep, gruff groans coming out of his mouth are almost barbaric. He’s completely wrecked just as you are. Two souls enchanted to run away in the darkness. Get lost in the indescribable pleasure of each other.

   You feel yourself nearing another climax as he licks his tongue inside your mouth, meeting yours in a dance you can’t stop. He swallows your moans with each snap of his hips, his fingers toying with your overstimulated clit until you’re gasping for breath underneath him. 

   He disconnects from your lips and stares at you with pitch black eyes, ready to consume all of you. “That’s it. That’s a good fuckin’ girl. Come on my cock. Let me feel you,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. And the sound of that deep, melodic tone makes you want to spill right then. 

   “I—Professor Miller. I’m gonna…”

   He drags his tongue along the edge of your ear and leans in close, his voice like silk. “C’mon, beautiful. Let go. Trust me. Feel me. Squeeze me. Show me how much I make you feel good. My pretty little Hufflepuff. My girl…”

   That right there sends you over. One more press of his thumb to your clit and you’re falling off the edge. It’s like a choir of angels surrounds the dark ceiling, your ears ringing as you cry his name at the top of your lungs. You can’t think, can’t speak. You can only writhe beneath him as you come back down to earth while he calls you a good girl over and over again. He could say it a hundred times, and you’d never tire of it. 

   “Fuck. That’s my good girl,” he praises, fucking into you harder. His breath ragged and untame. His curls stick to his sweat-coated forehead, his black eyes widen, and you feel him start to fall apart. 

   “I’m not gonna fuckin’ last much longer, sweetheart. Where do you want me?” he asks breathlessly. 

   “Inside me, Professor Miller,” you beg. At the sound of his name, he throws his head back and groans loudly as he spills his warm seed inside you. Painting your walls white with the Slytherin essence of him. Claiming you as his own. 

   He falls on his back against the side of the desk and pulls you tight against his chest. And then the two of you just breathe each other’s air until one of you is strong enough to push up from the dark mahogany desk. You’re the first one to move. 

   You quickly throw on your dress and cast a charm to freshen up. You don’t need your students knowing what you and the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor have been up to.

   Just as you start to smooth your hair out, you feel Joel brushing up against your back. His woodsy scent slithering its way down your spine, encapsulating your entire being as you start to fall into a deep trance again. You lean back and let him wrap his strong arms around your waist, his tempting lips kissing their way down the column of your neck. 

   “What are you doin’ later tonight?” he whispers smoothly, lingering his lips over your smooth skin. You feel his smoldering brown eyes piercing right through you, starting a fire deep in your core.

   If he doesn’t stop, you’ll end up right back where you were just seconds ago. On your back with Joel fucking Miller hovering over your body. Pulling you apart thread by thread. And you’d let him. God, you’d burn down this entire room and let him fuck you through the flames that licked at your skin. You’d burn for him.

   “Was going to lesson plan and maybe read a book,” you gulp as he spins you around, your speech suddenly slurring as he tempts you with dark eyes. Eyes that’ll swallow you whole.

   “Well, how ‘bout you lesson plan from my bed?” He quirks up a thick brow and plants a smug grin on his plush lips. Lips that taste like firewhisky. 

   “I don’t think I could get anything done there,” you laugh, a crimson blush staining your cheeks.

   “Not lesson plannin’, no. Maybe we could open the Chamber of Secrets. Get you moanin’ and speakin’ in tongues before the night is through,” he smirks devilishly, licking his bottom lip enticingly slow.

   God, he’s such a tease. 

   “You’re a bad, wicked man, Professor Miller.” You shake your head and fold your arms over your chest, taking a step back until he wraps a big hand around your wrist and pulls you back into his broad chest.

   “Don’t you forget it, baby,” he chuckles, fanning his hot breath over your lips. Drawing you in like a moth to a flame. 

   “You’re going to make me late for my next class,” you sigh, letting him gather you in his arms as his warmth consumes you. 

   “Then be late…” he whispers, brushing his lips over yours. Damn him and his plush, tempting lips. He tastes better than any sweet treat you’ve had in Hogsmeade.

   “You’re a bad influence on me,” you tsk, throwing your arms around his neck. Screw it. You’re already hooked on him. Might as well just give in to his lustful temptations.

   “Tryin’ to be,” he chuckles as he brushes a lock of hair behind the shell of your ear, lingering the back of his hand against your jawline. The tension suddenly thick around the dimly lit room once again. But really, it never left in the first place.

   You graze your lips against his and give him a lasting kiss, fingers tangled in the messy curls you so desperately love to lace your fingers through. It feels like velvet as the silvery strands comb through your fingers.

   You disconnect from his mouth and smile sweetly up at him, pushing off his strong chest. “Okay, handsome. I gotta go.”

   “See you tonight, pretty Hufflepuff.” He lingers his calloused fingers around your wrist and holds you there, just so he can memorize what you look like under the moonlit lamps of his classroom. He thinks you’re absolutely stunning.

   “Pretty, huh?” You give him a shy smile and feel your cheeks growing bright red.

   He nods, brown eyes alight with wonder. “Baby, you’re the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

   Oh.

   “You’re not so bad looking yourself, handsome,” you smile as he brings your hand up to his lips, placing a swift kiss to the top of your knuckles. And there you go blushing again like a schoolgirl with a crush. 

   “Careful now. Start talkin’ like that, and I’ll jus’ have to make you mine,” he warns with a smirk, the crow’s feet making his eyes sparkle like onyx crystals as starlight dances across his pretty eyes. 

   “So make me yours…” you whisper, hand dropping to your side. 

   He chuckles and shakes his head, back of his hand skimming down your blush-coated cheek. “You’re already mine, beautiful girl.”

   “Yours…” you repeat in awe.

   “Mmm. Mine.” He lets you backup a couple steps, reluctant to let you go just yet. “See ya tonight, baby.”

   As you pace back to the door and hover your hand over the golden handle, you turn back to him and smile. “Try not to think about me too much until then, Professor Miller.” 

   He rakes a hand slowly through his tousled curls, adjusting his loose tie around his neck. “Oh, babygirl. That’s the only thing that’s gonna be on my mind till I see you.”

   His brown flecked eyes hold yours for just a few seconds and then you turn and walk out of the room, leaving behind the troublemaker that’s got your heart racing a million miles an hour. 

   You’re thoroughly, completely enraptured with Professor Miller. And you fear you won’t be able to get enough of him. 

   As you walk down the now stirring hallway, dodging chatty students, you think of those captivating dark eyes. Those smoldering, beautiful eyes. Just a few more hours until you’re in his arms again, until he’s making you come undone all over again. 

   You’d let him unravel you. Make you his with every touch, every kiss, every breath. You never expected to fall for a Slytherin but here you were. Tripping and stumbling to get one more taste of him. 

   You’d never get enough. This Hufflepuff belonged to a Slytherin now. Professor Miller. The bad boy who got the good girl. 

   He was your Amortentia, and you were his.

Will Miller- Sugar Daddy edition 

Summary: Cinderella didn’t meet Prince Charming at a Starbucks on her way to her 9-5, but Prince Charming also didn’t have chiseled abs like Will does so I’d say this fairytale is an improvement on the original. 

About: Continuation of the sugar daddies AU Triple Frontier collection. See Frankie’s story or original teaser post for more information.  

Warnings and Information: 18 + minors, DNI, age difference, reader is 20s, Will is 40s, Will works with an organization called The War Amps (see top of story for info, pretending it is in the US as well), amputee, hospital, reader has hair, alcohol, swearing, smut, oral f receiving, protected piv. 

Photo is just for the collage, does not depict readers skin colour or weight. 

Word Count: 12+k 

The War Amps; is a Canadian organization whose main purpose is assisting veteran amputees. The non-profit serves to provide war veterans with financial and advisory support. The organization also provides programs that target the needs of children, adults and veterans who are amputees and use donations to assist in providing them with prosthetics. https://www.waramps.ca/home/  

“Mocha cookie crumble Frappuccino for a-,” 

“Yep, that’s me.” You say, stepping out of the waiting line and towards the counter. Taking the drink from the barista you offer a sweet smile and turn to head towards the exit. Thankful for the warm and sugary liquid to get you through the next few hours of appointments. The chilly late March air pricks your cheeks as you step out onto the sidewalk. You clutch your drink closely to your mouth to enjoy the warmth radiating out of the little paper cup. 

Your favourite Starbucks in all of New York city, as they are the only ones to make your coffee perfectly every time, was just a few blocks away from the pediatrician’s office you are a nurse at. Thank goodness for that, as it is exactly what you need to get through the long day of back-to-back appointments and endless children screaming as you administer shots. Due to the fact that your attending physician at the office is “Mr. No Shots.” Which unfortunately makes you, “Ms. Kids Hate Her.” Thankfully, your daily indulgence of a sweet coffee and your coworkers make the mundane day fly by fast enough.  

Settling down near the end of the day in the staff room comes as a relief to your tired feet. Sitting back in your chair you fall into the usual conversation with your coworker Ross. 

“I just can’t find a guy on these damn apps; I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” He says in a huff, tossing his phone down on the table and running his hands through his red hair. 

You nod in agreement, “Honestly I haven’t even looked at my profile in weeks, it all got so overwhelming swiping and reading through all those pointless pages where people basically lie to your face just to get in your pants.” 

He sits up straighter in his chair and reaches for his coffee, “I wish I could just meet someone the old-fashioned way you know?” 

“What, like at a bar or coffee shop?” you ask. 

“Yeah, something organic that isn’t all fake like these apps.” he says, shaking his head and sipping from his cup.  

Another one of your coworkers Deepti comes into the room, mumbling about a stain on her scrub pants. She goes to the sink and grabs a washcloth before rinsing it with soap and water to begin scrubbing at the material on her leg. 

“What’s that from?” You ask, leaning further back in your chair and peering over at the clock on the wall. 

She rolls her eyes, “That annoying Jennings kid, squeezed his juice box on me.” After sufficiently wetting her scrubs, she turns back to the pair of you. “So, what are you two talking about?" 

"Men." you say in unison, which earns a groan from Deepti.  

“Ugh, I’d rather not.” 

Ross asks, “No luck in that department for you either huh?” 

“Nope.” She says with a pop of the p. 

“Ross wants to get away from the apps and meet someone the old-fashioned way, like a coffee shop, or perhaps even a ball at midnight in his own little fairytale.” You quip with a smirk, the pure idea of it seeming laughable.  

Deepti smiles, “Ever the romantic, Ross. Never change.”  

Ross laughs, “Alright well then how are you meeting men Ms. Smarty Pants?” he asks with a pointed look at you. 

You shrug, “I guess I’m not, haven’t had a decent date in a hot minute.” 

Heading towards the door for her next appointment, Deepti calls over her shoulder. “I’m sure it will happen when you least expect it.” 

Standing in line for your usual order, you scroll mindlessly on the dating app you swore you wouldn’t touch again. Your order gets called and you slide your phone into your scrub pants to take it from the barista, just as you do every day.  

As you turn you hear a voice over your shoulder. “That’s quite the order.”  

Whipping your head around you come face to face with the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. Tall, blonde, manicured beard, an impressively built body as you can see through his tight fitting sweater and the most piercing blue eyes.  

Stuttering slightly, you comment, “Oh, uh, yeah I guess it is.” With a blush forming on your cheeks. You quickly excuse yourself before you simply melt from his gaze. During your walk to work you shake your head of the thought of the man. He was so handsome, why was he talking to you like that? You’ve never seen him before in that shop, and let’s be honest, you probably never will again. Starbucks are a dime a dozen in this city and the likelihood of catching him again seemed impossible.  

“Mocha cookie-,” 

“That’s me.” You say, stepping forward once again. Clutching your warm coffee close to your chest, you look around and see that the handsome stranger is nowhere to be seen. Approaching the door, you’re halted when it comes swinging open and your eyes widen at the sight of him.  

He smiles shyly and stands to the side to allow you through. You nod politely and pass by him.  

“Have a nice day.” You hear calling over your shoulder.  

“Oh, yeah you too.” You say quickly, peeking back at him to see he is merely standing in the doorway watching you walk away.  

That was odd, you think. Maybe he’s just a really outgoing guy? Maybe he’s one of those people that’s really nice to people in scrubs because of the pandemic. Maybe you’ll never know.  

Another day, another pleasantry from hot blondie and again you’re dumbfounded. How’s your day this and enjoy your coffee that. Nothing more, nothing less.  

Leaning against the counter in the staff room at work you swirl a spoon in your microwaved cup of soup and think to yourself. 

Deepti looks up from her book and notices how your eyebrows are knitted together, “What’s up?” 

Snapping to, you place your untouched and now cold soup on the counter behind you. “Oh, just thinking, about this guy.” 

She immediately perks up in her seat, “A guy? Really? Tell me everything.” 

 Shrugging you reply, “There’s not much to tell, that’s the problem. I have been seeing him at Starbucks every day for the last week and every day he just says something nice to me and that’s it. No name, no what’s your number, nothing but a polite, how do you do, and then he’s gone.” 

“Hm, does he talk to everyone like that?” she asks. 

“No, I even stood at the back of the room the other day to see if he would strike up conversation with anyone else and he didn’t. But before he left, he walked past me and said the colour of my scrubs was nice. I don’t even know where to go from that.” You say exasperated.  

Deepti purses her lips and squints in thought, “That is weird, maybe you should just try talking to him next time. Ask him a follow up question.”  

Chewing the inside of your cheek you figure that is the only way to progress whatever this is and see what this guy’s deal is.  

The next day, you stand in the back with your arms crossed and scanning the room. Hot blondie walks in shortly after you place your order and appears to be looking around, possibly for you. You are hidden perfectly behind a post against the wall and when he thinks you aren’t there, his shoulders fall slightly, and he steps into line to place his order.  

Your order is called out once again and his head immediately perks up to look around once more. You walk out of your hiding spot and to the counter to take your order with your usual smile. Starting towards the door you make a point of walking towards him. He watches you the entire time and holds that same shy smile on his face.  

“Nice weather out there today.” He comments as you approach. 

This time you stop, “Yeah, do you walk to work as well?” you say, trying to be casual.  

His eyebrows rise with your sudden boldness, and he smiles even bigger, “No, I actually live in the neighborhood so just come here to get a little something to start my day.”  

Nodding you reply, “Ah, well, I work just down the road so I swing by here for my own little liquid courage to take on the day. Anyway, I should get going, bye.” You say confidently as you hold your breath and brush past him.  

“Bye.” Is all you hear as you press the door open and slide out, a smile growing sheepishly on your face as you tackle your walk to work.  

Feeling optimistic and hopeful, you once again enter your usual Starbucks in the same neighborhood you do every workday. Just as you are approaching the line to order, a familiar voice rings in your ear to your left.  

“Mocha cookie crumble Frappuccino?” 

Turning where you stand, you come face to face with hot blondie, holding two coffees and offering a kind smile.  

“Um, yeah that’s me.” You say, matching his smile.  

He huffs a laugh out of his nose and offers you the drink. Your fingers graze each other’s as you take it from him, and a shiver runs down your spine. “Thank you.” 

“Will.” He says.  

“Will.”  

He smirks, “I do have to admit, I’ve heard your name by now. But I just call you Cookie because of your order to be perfectly honest.”  

You suppress a giggle at the adorable nickname, “Well, to be perfectly honest, I’ve been calling you hot blondie in my head so.”  

He laughs, “That works too, glad to know you think I’m hot at least.”  

Damn this guy is smooth. You fear you may begin to sweat if he keeps looking at you like that.  

Will looks down for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “I hope I’m not being too forward, but I uh, put my number on your cup. Thought maybe you’d like to go out sometime.” Will says with a hopeful smile.  

Looking at him intently you think to yourself, how old is this guy? Is he really picking up a girl in a coffee shop? Maybe he’s too old for the apps and this is all he knows. The undetermined age difference makes you weary but doing your best to pull from the hopeless romantic you beg is still deep down inside of you, you smile back at him. “Yeah, I would like that, I’ll text you.”  

He walks you out and stands aside to hold the door open for you, offering a sweet “Have a good day, see you tomorrow.” As you turn to head towards the office, you think to yourself, Ross is never gonna let you live this one down.  

The sky has already grown dark by the time you push through your apartment door. Your corgi, Gus comes barreling towards you at full speed.  

“Hey Gus Gus.” You say down to the little guy. Placing your backpack and keys on the white countertop you let out a sigh of exhaustion. You loved your job but boy was it tiring. As you start to prepare your dinner, your roommate Carrie steps through the door.  

“Hey, how was your day?” she asks, kicking off her shoes and pulling the claw clip out of her hair to let her curly locks fall.  

Offering a tired smile you reply, “Good, how about you?” 

“It was good. I won’t be home for dinner though, going out with Chris.” She says, heading to the bathroom to begin getting ready for her date.  

Returning to your prep, you begin chopping your potatoes and look over at your backpack that holds the ripped off phone number from the cup.  

Once Carrie is gone and your belly is full, you fall lazily onto the couch and turn on any reality show Netflix has to offer so your tired brain can relax. Gus curls up on the chair across the room and you look between him and your roommate’s empty room. Maybe you were a little lonely. Carrie was your friend for sure, but she had her own life to live as well. Since moving to the city, it had been difficult to make friends and boyfriends. Not that you’re not a social person, but getting a real connection is difficult. Sure, maybe you could put yourself out there a little more, and maybe this text you’re about to send will push you in the right direction.  

Hey hot blondie 

You bite your lip at your text, hoping it comes off as playful as you would like it to be. Not a minute later your phone pings back at you.  

Well, hey there Cookie, didn’t think I’d be hearing from you so soon 

Crap, was that too soon? You are pretty out of practice with this type of thing, maybe wait a few minutes before you respond to make yourself seem less eager. Chewing your fingernail, you stare down at the phone, trying to think of a flirty response.  

Just trying to secure my free coffee tomorrow 😉 

You grin to yourself and watch as his message quickly appears once again. 

Oh, I see how it is, just looking for a sugar daddy huh? 😉 

I mean, in this economy, who isn’t lol 

Haha, so what are you doing tonight? 

Just watching some brain rot on Netflix with my dog, hbu? 

Nothing either, wanna hang out? 

Your eyes widen and your shoulders pull off the couch. Was this a hookup thing or a spontaneous romantic thing? It was hard to tell.  

What did you have in mind? 

Weathers nice, wanna meet for a walk with your dog? 

Looking down at your snuggly best friend you grin with excitement. 

Sounds good, meet at Starbucks in 20? 

See ya there, Cookie. 

As you and Gus walk up to your meet up, all bundled up in a coat and scarf, you see Will waiting by the storefront. He’s wearing a fitted black coat, and dark jeans with boots. His eyes immediately brighten when he catches sight of you approaching.  

“Hey, how are you?” he says, his smile spreading across his face swiftly.  

Smiling back at him you reply, “I’m good thanks, how about you?” 

“Great, and who is this little fella?” he asks, kneeling down to let Gus jump on his knee.  

“This is Gus.”  

Standing back up he meets your eyes, “He’s a cutie. Do you wanna get a drink?” He asks, pointing over his shoulder to the store. 

Waving your free hand casually you shake your head, “Oh no, I just didn’t know where you lived so I thought this would be a good meeting point. I’m good to just go for a walk.”  

Nodding, he steps aside to allow you to continue on the sidewalk. He quickly steps over to your left to stand between you and the busy road. “So, you said you work near here? What do you do?” He asks.  

“I’m a nurse at a pediatricians office a few blocks over, and then my apartment is just down the road from here.” You say confidently.  

He nods, “A nurse huh? I figured something like that with the scrubs. Good for you, I’m sure that’s a tough job.” 

Shrugging your shoulders you reply, “It’s not too bad, I do love working with kids and trying to help them feel better, even if it’s just in spirit. Days get long though.” He smiles at your answer, “What do you do for work?” You ask. 

Will clears his throat and looks around at the people passing by, you see his eye line dart around faster than you can think before he replies. “I was in special forces, for about 15 years. Now, I work with the VA and the War Amps.” 

Your eyebrows raise, “Wow, that’s a long time to serve for. I can’t imagine, but good for you for helping all those people with the VA and War Amps. I’ve heard great things about them.” 

He smiles, “Yeah, you would love the War Amps, get to meet the most incredible kids there and their spirit is just, so inspiring for me. It’s hard to deal with injuries, I definitely had my fair share in the service, but I was still one of the lucky ones. So, I try to give back with my time and money as much as I can.”  

“That’s amazing, I’d love to see that. Sometimes I think I could be doing more to help with my degree than just, administering vaccines and wrapping up sprained ankles.” You say, almost to yourself. You don’t know why you’re speaking so vulnerably so quickly, isn’t this the what’s your favourite colour stage of a date? 

“I’m sure you make more of a difference than you think, but I could definitely take you by the hospital some time so you could check out the program.” Will says, his heartfelt blue eyes piercing your soul every time he looks at you. 

Clearing your throat to pull yourself back from the clouds he has sent you to, you ask, “So, that is your volunteer work I presume, what do you do for work?” 

Pulling his lips tight he stutters, “Um, I don’t really work anymore. I retired from special forces, and then did some private work that paid well and now I just invest in the stock market. It only takes up a few hours of my day so the rest I get to spend doing what I really love.”  

“Oh, wow, that’s really impressive. How do you do with the stocks? I’ve never understood any of that stuff.”  

“Pretty well, I’m good with numbers. Always had a habit of counting things and keeping track so I look at it all a little different I guess.” 

You smile, “What do you mean by counting things?” you ask.  

He clears his throat, “Well for example, I’ve uh-, kept track of every time I’ve made the same speech at the VA. I’m well into the 200s at this point. So, there’s big counts and then there’s small counts, like twelve.” He says quietly, giving you a knowing smile. 

Squinting your eyes you ask, “What have you counted twelve times?” 

“Twelve, is how many times,” he begins, looking sheepishly down at the snow crunching under his boots. “I saw you in that Starbucks before I finally got the nerve to talk to you.”  

Your chest flushes and you have to bite your lip to stop the agonizing grin that is threatening to crack your cold to touch cheeks. He looks equally as charmed as he stares back at you, waiting for your response.  

“I feel bad,” You begin to say, “I didn’t notice you until you finally did talk to me.”  

He shrugs, “That’s okay, every time you were either rushing out the door, or on your phone, or I was just not looking to be seen. There was this really adorable time, I think it was number seven, where you held the door open for this older gentleman and he said you were as sweet as sugar, and then you just had the biggest smile on your face.” His face beams at the memory as he scratches his beard.  

A smile breaks out on your face as well, “Oh I remember that guy. He completely made my day.” You say, your heart warming with each step you take with Will, Gus trotting beside you along the path.  

Will chuckles, “You kinda made my day every day after that.” He confesses.  

Blushing you reply, “You’re pretty charming you know that right?” 

He shrugs, “So I’ve been told.” 

The rest of the walk is just as lovely as the beginning. You learn a little more about his time in the service and his friends, especially his younger brother Benny that he’s going to visit in April. You tell him about your education, having graduated 4 years ago. How you grew up in Brooklyn and finally made it across the bridge when you got this job at the pediatrician’s office.  

He walks you back to your apartment building, giving you the worst puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen when he turns to face you.  

“I had a really nice time Will.” You say, giving him a loving smile.  

Will nods, “Me too Cookie. You know, I’m going to the hospital on Saturday morning if you’d like to come and meet the kids?” 

Your excitement is undeniable when you agree and thank him for the offer.  

“Alright well, I’ll let you get back to your Netflix. Talk to you later?” He says. You nod and he steps a foot closer to plant a gentle kiss on your chilly cheek before squeezing your elbow and stepping past you to head home.  

You watch him leave, his broad shoulders stretching his coat within an inch of its life. A group of women walk by him and immediately turn their heads to catch a second look. You smile to yourself as they walk by and comment on how deliriously good looking, he is. He never gave them even one look, let alone a second. Returning back to your apartment you give Gus some more food and water to refresh after the walk and slip into your sweats. Sliding back onto the couch you flip on the tv, choosing one of your favourite Disney princess classics to relax to. You try to focus on the movie in front of you, not the way your cheek still feels warm from his endearing kiss.  

The rest of the week leaves you excited for each new day, stepping into the Starbucks you were immediately greeted by Will waiting at a table with your coffee in hand and ready to make the brisk walk to your work with you before heading back home.   

Saturday morning comes and you are buzzing as you wait for him to pick you up for the visit. His text comes through that he’s waiting downstairs in a black car, and you eagerly grab your backpack to leave. You’re met with a black Lincoln town car and Will waving at you from the back seat. He did say he made good money in the private sector and traded stocks; you guess you should’ve figured he was pretty well off.  

Sliding into the sleek car you smile at him, and he leans in to kiss your cheek again. “Hey, how are you?” you ask.  

“Better now that you’re here. How was your call with your parents last night? Are they having a good trip?” he asks intently.  

Slightly taken aback that he remembered your scheduled call with your parents while they are on their vacation in Japan last night. “Oh, yeah it was really nice. They’re having a great time. Thanks for asking.” You say bashfully.  

“Of course. Have they sent you any pictures?”  

You spend the rest of the ride over showing him all the pictures your mom has sent you. For a second you stare at the crinkles around his eyes when he smiles and the grey speckles in his beard. Could he be closer in age to your parents than to you? You knew he wasn’t exactly 29, but maybe he was a little older than you thought.  

Your thoughts are cut short as the car comes to a halt in front of the hospital. You and Will depart and head into the rehabilitation unit. Stepping through the doors you look around at all the equipment and patients. To your left there is an elderly man working on walking, his knee has a brace on it and someone who you assume is his wife is standing near offering him words of encouragement. Will takes your hand and leads you into an area near the back of the unit, a smile stretching across his face when he sees a little boy seated by the standing bars. He has a dinosaur printed prosthetic leg from the knee down and is reading a book.  

“Hey James.” Will says, as he slides down into the seat beside the boy.  

 He smiles back, “Hi Will!” 

“How’s my man doing?” 

“Good, I got an A on my math test this week. Thanks for helping me study.” James says enthusiastically.  

Nodding, Will replies, “No problem, I knew you could do it.” He looks up at you, just standing there enjoying the interaction and gestures to you to come closer. “James, I want you to meet my friend here. She’s thinking about doing some volunteer work with the War Amps too.”  

You step closer and kneel down in front of them on the carpet. “Hi James, it’s nice to meet you.”  

“Nice to meet you too.” He replies, before turning to Will and using his hand to cover his mouth, says, “She’s really pretty.”  

You and Will both giggle, and Will looks back at you before covering his mouth and whispering back. “I know right, I called dibs already so don’t even think about.”  

The three of you laugh again, before you settle and spend an hour talking with James and watching him work with Will on his balance. Will is so intentional and sweet with the boy, you can’t help but feel a warmth in your heart. He is so unlike any other guy you’ve met.  

Leaving the hospital, you agree to go for lunch. To your amazement, the car pulls up outside a restaurant you have been dying to go to but could never afford or get a reservation to. Turning to Will you ask, “How did you get a table at this place so quickly?” 

Shrugging, he replies, “I know the owner.” He offers a flirtatious wink before climbing out of the car and meeting you round the other side.  

The entrance to the restaurant has tall doors and a doorman standing aside to open it for you. A chandelier is the first thing that catches your eye as you take in the regal décor of the main room. Lucious red and greens all about, creating a rich atmosphere, that looks as delicious as it smells.  

Will steps up to the hostess stand with your hand firmly gripped in his. “Table for two.”  

“Of course, Mr. Miller, right this way.” The young blonde women says before leading you both deep into the restaurant. She pulls a curtain aside and you step through into a private room with a fireplace and bar. Will pulls your chair out for you, and as you sit down you marvel at the pure wealth of it all.  

A waitress follows quickly to take your drink orders before leaving the two of you alone.  

“How do you know the owner?” you ask inquisitively. 

Will takes a sip of the water on the table before commenting, “My friend Pope, the one I told you about from my team. He owns it, and a bunch of other ones. The one he is mainly at is in Vegas.”  

“Huh, wow he did very well for himself too.” You speak. “So, Pope is in Vegas, Fish is in Tennessee, and Benny is in Kentucky. What brought you to New York?” 

“Well, I spent so much time in little camps or on bases, it was so quiet, and you just felt like the only people in the world. I thought it would be nice to be around the noise and all these people. This is kind of the loudest and busiest city in the US so, I found my way here a few years ago.” 

“Was it everything you thought it would be?”  

He sucks his teeth slightly, “Yes and no.” 

“How’s that?” you ask, tucking your hand under your chin. 

“It’s what I thought in terms of noise and busyness, but I guess I still found myself a little lonely. I think I need to work harder at meeting people and creating a new family here. First my family was my family, then my team was my family, and now, well it’s just me.” 

His answer leaves you a little sad. You come from a big family, with your parents and 3 siblings and cousins upon cousins. You couldn’t imagine being by yourself in this big city.  

You dine over a delicious meal, and he takes you back to your apartment. Walking through the halls he keeps a gentle hand on your back and his presence in itself makes you feel safer than you’ve ever felt.  

“Well, this is me.” You say, gesturing to your bright yellow door you had to beg the landlord to let you paint.  

He smiles and says, “Once again I had a great time, Cookie.”  

You blush at the nickname, and your breath hitches as he steps closer and begins to lean in. You raise your arms up to rest around his firm shoulders as his hands find their home on your hips. Your lips dance delicately close and the two of you smile sweetly, before he gently presses his lips to yours. His lips are sweet and move lovingly with yours. He pulls away a few moments later and looks into your eyes before resting his head against yours.  

“I’ve been thinking about doing that for a long time now.” He says earnestly.  

“I’ve been thinking about, not as long as you obviously because you saw me first.” You laugh with him. “But um, I have wanted to do it since our walk the other day. I appreciate the waiting though; I do like to take things slow if that’s okay.”  

Will brings his hands up to cup your face and looks deeply into your eyes, “Of course, whatever you’re comfortable with.”  

His piercing blue eyes and sweet words make you want to melt right there on that awful casino patterned carpet in your apartment building hallway. You finally peel yourself out of his arms and step into your apartment, resting your head back on the door after it closes to reel in the morning you’ve had.  

Carrie walks into the kitchen and sees your fussed state. She comments with a smirk on her face, “So, I guess your day with hot blondie went pretty well huh?”  

A smile grows on your face as you step towards the island and put your bag down. “It was perfect. The trip to the hospital was perfect, the lunch was perfect, ugh he’s just so-,” 

“Perfect?” she interjects with a laugh.  

As the flowers and trees start to blossom, so does your relationship with Will. Every morning you get coffee and walk to work together, and every night you spend hours texting, facetiming or going on dates. Whether it be a simple walk or another dinner at Popes restaurant. He was the easiest guy you’ve ever spoken to, and chivalrous to boot. Near the end of April, he was set to go visit his brother and you couldn’t help the little pout that sprang out on your face when he told you he was leaving, knowing you’ll miss him a ton.  

Standing in the lunchroom at work you smile at your phone reading your texts with Will. 

What do you have planned for tonight? 

Benny is dragging me to a night club opening…can you tell he’s the younger brother? 

Oh no, lol! Wish I could go with you to make it a little less painful.  

That would be great, he’s stalking some poor girl from his gym he’s got a huge crush on, so I have to wingman.  

“Is it that guy again?” Deepti comments when she looks up from her book and sees the goofy look on your face.  

You straighten up and reply, “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” You say sarcastically.  

She rolls her eyes, “Oh please, you’re in love.”  

“Who’s in love?” Ross asks surprised as he walks into the lunchroom.  

You roll your eyes back at her and scoff. 

“Ms. Fairytales don’t exist.” Deepti confirms.  

Ross’ mouth gaps and he looks at you with wild eyes, “Have you been holding out on us with some juicy details?”  

“Come on guys, it’s no big deal. We’ve been dating for like a month.” You comment exasperated.  

“Oh, well do tell. Is he hot?” Ross asks, sitting down and egging you on to spill the beans.  

Biting your lip, you let out a tiny squeal. “Yes, yes, he’s soooo hot. He has blonde hair, the most beautiful blue eyes, a beard and his body is something that Greek sculptors would use as a model for their art. He is just the most charming man I’ve ever met.” 

Ross and Deepti are reeling in your confession and Ross continues his interrogation. “So, have you, you know yet?” He asks, popping his eyebrows up and down. 

Humming to yourself you respond, “Not yet, I just wanted to take it slow.”  

“How slow?” Deepti asks. 

“Um, I think it’s been slow enough. We’ve made out lots and gotten a little handsy, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t ready for more. Maybe once he gets back.” You say, almost to yourself.  

They give each other a knowing look as you get lost in your daydreams.  

Laying in bed that night binging a new show you found, your phone pings again with a new message from Will.  

Am I a bad brother if I wanna bail on Ben? This place is so loud. 

Smiling to yourself, you reply.  

I’d say you put your time in. Sorry you’re not having fun! 

It’s okay, I think he finally found that girl so I’m gonna head back to his place.  

Alright drive safe! 

Hey, just wanted to let you know I’m at his place now.  

Aw thanks for letting me know! Glad your hearing is protected now 😉 

Haha yeah much better now. So, what have you been up to this evening? 

Just laying in bed watching tv.  

Now that sounds like my kind of night. 

You scroll through your messages with Will and notice the complete lack of flirting. Maybe it was time you stepped it up a notch. You have been seeing him for a few weeks now, and it may be best to move past the PG rating of your relationship. Rolling onto your back you think for a moment before responding. 

It would definitely be a lot better if you were here with me. 

Holding your breath you wait for his response. You begin to grow nervous until his name pops up again in the text chain. 

Oh yeah? And whys that? 

Well, cuz then I wouldn’t be watching the show all by myself.  

Is that all we’d be doing? 

His response makes your heart skip a beat and a bit of wetness start to form on your panties.  

Not necessarily, is there anything you have in mind 😉 

Oh, trust me I’ve got a lot on my mind. Since I got home, I’ve been thinking about lying with you in your bed. Spooning you while we watch your show. Holding you tight and kissing your neck to see what pretty little noises you can make.   

That sounds like a dream. Tell me more. 

Then I’d slide my hand up your shirt and feel how soft your skin is cuz baby I just know you’d feel so perfect. And I’d keep kissing down your neck and your shoulders and… 

You wait for a few moments, but no additional text comes through, the ache between your legs is palpable and you want to beg him to keep going. 

And? 

You ask, hoping he will give you what you need to find your release as you slide your hand beneath the band of your panties. The notification finally pops up as you’re rereading the messages and drawing tiny circles on your clit.  

And I guess you’ll have to find out the rest when I get back baby 😉 

“Dammit Will.” You groan to yourself, pulling your hand back up and trying to calm yourself down.  

Can’t wait, want me to just jump you in Starbucks the first day you’re back? 

Lol not exactly what I was thinking. But I have been meaning to ask you, the first Monday in May, got any plans? Could you get off work? 

I’ve got some vacation days I could use, why? What are you thinking? 

Book it off, and it’s a surprise. But I promise at the end of the night, you’ll get to see everything I’ve been wanting to do with you for weeks now, if you want it.  

Trust me, I want it.  

The first Monday of May. The colour has returned to the leaves and you’ve abandoned your heavy winter jacket for a lighter yellow jacket with jeans and sneakers. Due to the glorious weather and the sun beating down, you decide to make the walk to Wills apartment instead of a taxi. He sent you his address and the strict instructions of; 

No makeup 

Don’t do your hair 

Bring an overnight bag 

This is your first time being at Wills apartment, every time you plan a stay in date, he always says he wants to come to your place because it’s so perfectly “you”. That his apartment doesn’t have a woman’s touch, and he finds himself more comfortable cozied up on your thrift store couch with you and Gus than he ever has on his. You’re glad he feels so at home with you, however, if things do get serious, you can’t imagine him moving in with you and Carrie. You’d surely have to move in with him or find something together. But that thought seems miles ahead of where you’re at. You haven’t even slept with him yet so maybe pump the breaks on thinking of introducing him to your parents.  

You check your phone as you have been following the directions and come to a stop in front of a tall old building. The stone on it almost resembles that of a castle and the door is large with dark wood and gold accents. A doorkeeper stands at the top of the stone stairs and eyes you from below. You glance down at the address again and back up, confirming it to be true. He lives in one of the most expensive apartment buildings in the area. You’ve seen this building as you drive by in a cab, always imagining what kind of people could afford to live here. You’ve even Zillowed the units, most of them going for at least $5 million due to the views.  

Taking a deep breath you step forward, dragging your carryon suitcase behind you as you eye the stairs and wonder how you’re gonna get it up them without looking like a total idiot. Before you can, the door man leaps from his post and trots down the steps to meet you.  

“Ms. Uh,- Cookie? Is it? I’m Juan.” the man with a thick South American accent asks with an awkward smile.  

You smirk and nod, “Uh yeah that’s me, I guess. Did Will say I was coming?”  

He nods, “Yes ma’am, he didn’t give me much to go on though I’ll be honest.” He says as he takes the suitcase from your hands and leads you to the stairs. “All he said was that his girlfriend Cookie was coming and that I would know it’s you because you’d be the most beautiful woman, I’d see all day.” He says with joy in his voice.  

Blushing, you reply. “Well, thank you for your help. Do you know what unit he is? I think he forgot that in his message?” You ask, scrolling through your messages again.  

“Ah, yes ma’am, he is in the penthouse.” 

Your head whips up to hopefully see humor behind his eyes with his joke, but he is dead serious. “Okay, um, great. Thank you, Juan.”  

“Have a lovely evening.” He says, opening the door for you.  

Stepping inside Wills building is a dream, high ceilings with chandeliers that twinkle more than the stars in the sky. Lounge areas of rich velvet couches and wood tables probably older than the state of New Jersey scatter around the room as socialites mull about. You immediately feel out of place in your Converse and ripped jeans but pulling as much confidence you can muster together you head towards the elevator.  

The elevator chimes and you meet another attendant, they provide you with a courteous smile and ask what floor.  

Taking a gulp of air, you step in and say, “Um, penthouse? Will Millers.”  

He nods and presses the button before the doors glide closed before you.  

A moment later they open once more, and you are met with a short hallway to a double door. Saying your thanks, you exit and roll your suitcase behind you. Before you can reach the end and tap on the door, it swings open, and Will smiles brightly at you from behind it. He looks as perfect as ever with hair and beard grown out a bit, a white T-shirt and jeans on. His muscles flex as he leans on the door frame.  

“Hey baby, you made it. Come on in.” He says, offering to take your suitcase from you.  

“Thank you, and yeah it was easier to find than I thought.” Stepping through the door you’re surprised to see such a modern designed room. All black and grey sleek furniture. You can see why he thinks yours is more comfortable. Your eyes catch the light at the end of the room, and you can’t help but jog over to the edge to stand in front of the large windows looking over the beautiful view. He steps up behind you and looks at nothing but your face of wonder.  

“Nice, isn’t it?”  

“It’s breathtaking, my view of is the neighboring buildings trash storage.” You quip and he chuckles beneath his breath.  

“Here, let me show you the rest.” He says, taking your hand.  

You follow him along the rest of the apartment, taking in more views and basking in the pure luxury of the place. The kitchen is straight out of a magazine and there are rooms upon rooms of entertainment systems, bars, more space than you could even imagine what to do with.  

He comes to a halt in front of a double door and takes your hands in his. “This is my favourite room, and I had planned on sharing it with you in a more intimate way, but due to the little surprise that I have planned for you today, this will have to do.”  

You hold your breath with anticipation as he lets go of your hands and grabs the handles, pushing them open and revealing the primary bedroom. A large bed pressed up against the wall is the only thing you see before taking in the irregularities in the space. Garment racks lining the walls, hair and makeup station set up, a variety of men’s and women’s shoes scattered around the room.  

Walking in and taking in the spectacle before you, you ask quietly. “What is all this?” 

You feel a hand find your waist and his breathe tickle your ear, “It’s your surprise.”  

Turning in his hold you look at him with furrowed eyebrows, still unsure what he means.  

Smirking, Will continues. “What happens every first Monday of May in New York?” 

The wheels in your head start turning until a click finally sounds and your eyes blow wide. “The Met Gala?” You ask excitedly. 

He nods, “Every year they have a table for a few charities to send a representative and a guest. The War Amps got selected this year and I was invited by the director to take the spots due to my donations and the fact that I am easier on the eyes than most of their donators, as she said.” He laughs at that and your mouth gaps at his confession. “So, I was wondering, would you like to go to the Met Gala with me?”  

The smile of your face might just break your cheeks, the most luxurious event in NYC, peppered with every celebrity you follow on social media, on the arm of the most handsome man in the world. How could you say no? 

“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. I am so excited.” A realization hits you quickly, “But wait, what am I gonna wear?” 

“Don’t worry about that, hair and makeup will be here soon to get us ready and there are about a dozen dresses over in those garment bags for you to choose from. I may have snuck a peak in your closet one time to get your size.” He says with a wink and a twinkle in his blue eyes.  

The emotion begins to well up in you, “Will, this is, - this is the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me. Thank you.”  

He steps closer and pulls your hands up to place a kiss to your knuckles, “Well, you’re the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me. So, I’m glad I can return the favour.” 

Your eyes meet and he lets go of your hands, they instinctively find their way to his shoulders as his fall to your waist. Your lips meet, the taste of him sending a shockwave down your spine. The kiss suddenly deepens, and he starts to back you up towards the king-sized bed covered in a luscious dark grey comforter. The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed as you both fall down onto it. He hovers above you, licking into your mouth, moaning together as you grab at his T-shirt, desperate to feel the warmth and strength underneath. His hand starts to wander down your body towards your jeans when the phone beside the bed begins to ring. You stop kissing and open your eyes, looking at each other with the same humor and annoyance to your unexpected interruption.  

Will huffs a laugh out and taps your plump lips with his finger. “This isn’t over.” He smiles before pushing himself up and adjusting his now swollen cock in his jeans quickly, walking over to the phone.  

You wait patiently on the bed, still buzzing from the way Wills kisses make you feel like you’ve had 4 tequila shots.  

“Okay, thanks. Send them up.” He says before placing the receiver back down and sauntering over to you at the end of the bed.  

His words on the phone leave a sexy pout on your face knowing your time has been further interrupted. “The team is here to get started, they’re on their way up.” He takes your hand and hauls you effortlessly back to your feet before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, gazing into your eyes. “The selfish man in me wants to send them all away and cancel tonight just to have you to have you all to myself, but I can’t wait to see how stunning you are going to look tonight so I guess I’ll have to wait.”  

You and Will spend the next few hours getting ready and snacking on the pizza he got for everyone delivered. It is finally time to get dressed and he plants a kiss to your forehead before he and his team head down the hall with his outfit for the evening, closing the doors behind them.  

Running your fingers through the dresses that have been pulled from their garment bags you smile to yourself, unable to believe this is your life right now. Your family was never broke by any means, but they kept everything reasonable. Your prom dress was from a department store, your university graduation dress from a small boutique in Queens. It was always more than enough for you, but as you stand there marveling at the exquisite and deliriously expensive gowns, the little girl in you who always dreamed of being a princess that lived in a tower in the sky couldn’t help but smile. 

Will stands in the foyer waiting, his attention is suddenly caught as he hears the sound of heels clicking on the hard wood flooring and he turns to see you walking towards him. A long silver dress covered in sparkles with straps hanging off the shoulders and a high slit on your leg with diamond earrings more expensive than your parent’s car. Your heels are silver and glittery, the way they shimmer in the fluorescent lighting they look like they could be made of glass. He takes one look at you and his breath leaves his chest. His hand swiftly follows it, placing it over his heart as he watches you with pure devotion.  

You can’t help but smile as you take in his appearance as well. A dark blue suit with matching shirt, his hair slicked back perfectly and a jeweled piece around his collar. Meeting him in his place he takes your hand and spins you around before pulling you close.  

“You are, the most beautiful woman in the world, you know that right?” he says through a whispered breath.  

“You’re not so bad yourself.” You say, your eyes flicking to his mouth. 

Will tries to steady his breathing, realizing you were still in the presence of an audience. “Let’s get out of here, alright?” 

He takes your hand, and you follow him to the elevator, your heartbeat thumping loudly in your chest at the anticipation. The elevator chimes and he leads you through the lobby of the building. All eyes are on you as your dress glimmers with the chandelier lighting. A little girl passing by with her mother whispers just loud enough for you to here, “Mommy is that a princess?”  

You blush and Will smiles with you. The door is opened for you by Juan, and he smiles at you. “You look beautiful Ms. Cookie.”  

Before you can respond you are bombarded with the flash of photographers, clearly waiting for attendees of the night’s gala. Will keeps you firmly pressed against him as he leads you to the black car waiting at the curb, shielding you from any greedy photographer trying to get too close. The door is opened by the driver for you and Will as you slide into the black leather seats.  

Once the car has departed Will looks you up and down again, “That little girl was right by the way, you do look like a princess.”  

“I feel like one, getting ready up there, having people do my hair and makeup, this dress, it all feels like a fairytale.” You say.  

He takes your hand and kisses it gently, “Can I be your Prince Charming then?”  

“Absolutely, now I guess I just have to hope this doesn’t turn into a pumpkin at the end of the night.” You laugh. 

The lights of the city pass as you make your way to the gala, waiting in line for your exit, your nerves are getting the better of you and your leg begins bouncing. Will immediately notices and places a firm hand on your exposed knee.  

“Hey, it’s okay. They’re not worried about us, a few pictures and then we’ll be up the stairs and in the clear.” he says, offering a reassuring smile.  

He’s right, you can do this you think. The door suddenly opens, and you’re ushered out to get checked in. Will holds your hand firmly as he passes through each check in and to the waiting area for the stairs. You smile and point out all the celebrities you are fans of to Will and explain what they’re in. Having been in the service for so long, he missed out on a lot of media, so you have been sufficiently filling him in over the last few weeks of your must watches.  

“Mr. Miller, please head towards the staircase, and stop at landings 1 and 3 for photos.” A woman in a long black dress and headset informs you.  

Will looks at you and lets a deep breath out of his nose, “Alright, here we go. If at any point you’re done just let me know and we’ll head straight to the top.”  

You smile and rub his arm for reassurance, before you both step towards the opening of the stairs. The grand staircase is beautifully decorated and lined with hundreds of photographers. The lights are blinding but you do your best to put on a smile to match Wills as he confidently works up the first set of stairs to the landing. He stops and pulls you in close, you rest a hand on his shoulder and smile at the flashing cameras.  

Before you know it you and Will have moved up the stairs and are entering the gala. Hoards of celebrities pass by, and you do your best to keep your squeals to a minimum, not that Will would mind. The gala passes in a whirlwind of pleasant conversations, delicious food and even more delicious champagne. All the while Will devotes his attention to you both emotionally and physically. He meets your eyes and asks how you’re doing, if you need anything, and keeps a hand firmly on your body which sends a continuous rush to your core as you do your best to breathe out of your nose to calm your sheer attraction to him.  

The way his shoulders press into his suit jacket, his pants hanging perfectly on his legs, his strong hands holding you close at every chance they get. He’s intoxicating to be around, and you stare at the time on your phone as you think about what the rest of the night is to hold. He promised to show you everything he’s been wanting to do to you since your first date and the pool in your panties is a constant reminder that you so badly want him to. You can hardly believe you’re willing for one of the most incredible experiences of your life to end but each time Will tells you how beautiful you look or you catch how his eyes sparkle in the lights of the ballroom, you melt a little bit further and have to push back the agonizing urge to whisper in his ear and ask him to take you home. 

You’re seated at your table, people watching and resting your feet from the strain of your heels when Wills phone on the table lights up with a text message. You both look down and see the time of midnight. 

Will looks you up and down, “Well Cinderella, should we go check to make sure that car didn’t turn into a pumpkin?” 

Your eyes widen with excitement and you nod. He takes your hand to help you stand and waits dutifully as you collect your things in your purse before heading to the stairs again. They are almost bare now, most of the photographers having left for the night or moved to separate exit points. You begin the walk down the stairs before having a sudden realization.  

“Oh Will, before we leave, I saw a washroom just up the stairs and I’m gonna go before we leave, just in case there’s traffic.” He nods and you turn to walk up the stairs. Stumbling slightly up one of the steps and you step right out of your shoe. Steadying yourself you turn and look down, to see Will with the biggest smirk on his face. He walks up the steps as you wait with hitched breath. He leans down to pick up the shoe and falls to one knee in front of you.  

“I guess you really are Cinderella huh?” he says with a smile full of wonder.  

Seeing him kneel before you makes your heart thump loudly in your chest. He reaches his hand out and you gently place your foot into it, before he carefully slides the glittery heel back onto your foot. He rises up in front of you, gaze burning with desire.  

Taking a deep breath you say, “I guess so. At least I know she has a happy ending.”  

“I know you will.” He says confidently.  

Trying to contain the wistful smile on your face you gesture towards the top of the stairs, “Well, I’ll be right back.”  

Once in the washroom you take deep breaths and stare at yourself in the mirror. Surely you can’t be falling for this man. It’s just smoke and mirrors. Just the romance of the night, there’s no way it could be real. However, he does make you feel more than any other man ever has. His touch has electrified you at every linger, his words healing something inside that you didn’t know was broken. All you know for sure is, if tonight goes the way you think it will. You will be undeniably, unapologetically, unbelievably, falling in love with Will Miller.  

The excitement was building the entire way back to Wills apartment. You had to keep reminding yourself to breathe and as the elevator door finally dings at the penthouse floor. He ushers you out with a hand on the small of your back, leading you into the unknown.  

Once inside, Will takes your hand and leads you quietly to his bedroom, you follow along with a devilish grin on your face. He stands in front of the door and pulls you closely into his arms.  

“I just wanna remind you, we don’t have to do anything tonight alright? We can go in there, cuddle and go to sleep if that’s all you want. Or we can take that next step, together.” He whispers calmly to you. 

The champagne running through your veins and the sheer desire that you feel for Will has your boldness stepped up a notch, no longer nervous of what was to come. So, you step closer to him and whisper back in the sultriest voice you can. “Will, I just want you to fuck me in every way you’ve thought about since you saw me in that damn Starbucks.”  

His eyebrows pop up and he watches you as you slip out of his grasp and push open the double doors. Sauntering over to the bed with your hips swaying in every direction before settling on the end of the bed, tapping the comforter beside you and eyeing him. He smirks and steps into the room, closing the doors behind him. His broad shoulders take up so much space as he stands in front of you, taking his suit jacket off and slowly removing the cufflinks on his shirt sleeves. All the while staring you down, tracing every inch of your body with his eyes. You could damn near feel their touch as the anticipation grows between your legs, you have to cross them and squeeze slightly to release a little bit of pressure that has built.  

Hovering over you he says in a commanding tone, “Stand up princess.”  

You raise an eyebrow at the new authoritative state he is in and oblige. He takes your hips in his hands and turns you around, taking the zipper of your dress in his fingers and slowly pulling it down to reveal your bare back and the top of your lace black panties. You let the dress fall to your feet and step out of it. He swiftly scoops it up off the floor and takes it to the hangers near the door, carefully placing it back where it belongs. When he turns back you’ve turned back around and he’s met with your bare breasts, your panties and your glass slippers still upon your feet. He bites his lip and walks back over to you, looking you up and down.  

“Fuck, I can’t wait to do everything I’ve been thinking about, Cookie.” He whispers, unbuttoning his shirt and toeing off his shoes. The dark navy button down is finally open, and your eyes widen as he peels it off his shoulders, revealing his chiseled abs so hard you could bounce a ball off of them.  

Perking up on the bed you run your hands down his body, taking in the defined pecks and strong arm muscles. You fingers dance on his abs before leaning forward and licking a stripe up them. Will lets out a low chuckle before his hand takes your chin and points your head up to look at him. His eyes are full of desire as he squints and takes in the look of your bare breasts again. He suddenly swoops down, lifting you up into his arms with ease and throwing you further down on the bed.  

You can’t help but giggle before he reaches up and takes your heels off your feet, tossing them aside. He unbuttons his pants and pushes them down his thick thighs before climbing up the bed over top of you.  

He encapsulates your mouth with an agonizing kiss, the way your tongues move together is nothing short of perfect. Will pulls your bottom lip out with his teeth before smirking. “The first thing I have been dying to have you do.” He begins, punctuating his sentence with a loving kiss. “Is, I want you to sit on my face.”  

Your eyebrows pop up at his proposition before nodding and rolling out from underneath him. He rolls onto his back and watches as you get onto your knees to slowly pull your lace panties down your thighs, rolling onto your side to finish sliding them off. You crawl over to him and place your legs on either side of his body, giving him a devilish grin.  

“Beautiful.” He comments, taking in the sight of your bare body and glistening pussy.  

Your heart pounds as you move up on his body and position yourself with your thighs on either side of his head, grasping the dark wood headboard for balance.  

Will lets out a groan and kisses the inside of your thighs, his hands coming around from underneath you to pull at you slightly and open you up even further. You take a deep breath before feeling the first flick of his tongue on you, right from your weeping hole to your swollen clit. A moan comes out of your throat, and you brace yourself on the headboard for what’s to come. He licks again and again, pulling your thighs back and forth with his hands as he makes you fuck his face. The slight scrape of his facial hair on your sensitive only adds to the stimulation. The headboard slams against the wall over and over as your head falls back and you bite your lip, trying not to break your resolve just yet. It’s all for not when he sucks your clit into his mouth and causes the damn to break. Your orgasm rocks you and you have to grip the headboard to keep from your legs letting you down. He continues to suck you as you soak his beard until you finally let a deep breath out moan at the pleasure. Your clit still thrumming, he reaches a hand farther and inward to start drawing tiny circles on your clit as his tongue laps at your entrance. Your head falls forward against the headboard at the feeling, he continues his movements until you are falling closer and closer to another devastating orgasm. It hits you again and it takes every bit of strength not to punch the wall in front of you as the sensation overpowers every nerve in your body. You finally finish with deep breaths and pull away slightly from his overstimulating tongue. He kneads your thighs as you blink slowly, trying to get the dizziness to go away before climbing off of him and plopping your body down on the bed beside him.  

Through huffed breaths you muster out some words, “Fuck, that was, that was incredible.”  

Will smirks and wipes his beard with his hand, “Mm, you taste so good baby. I love making you cum all over my face.” He leans forward and plants a kiss on your lips, licking into you so you can taste just how good he makes you feel.  

He pops up on his knees and reaches over your limp body to pull open the side table drawer, plucking a condom out of the box and putting it on himself. You watch through hooded eyes as he rolls you onto your side and slides your top leg up slightly. His warm hand rolls up and down your body before grasping his length and notching it at your entrance. You stare at the view outside his window as you feel the initial stretch of his cock in your pussy. The glistening lights of New York, the silence of being on the top floor of the building, the feeling of a devastatingly handsome man fucking you from behind. You can’t imagine a better place to be in the world right now.  

You grip the comforter underneath you as he fully slides himself into your wet hole. His size is perfect and fills you up in a way you’ve never felt before. Laying behind you he reaches his arm back around and holds you tightly, cupping one of your breasts. Will peppers your neck with kisses, “Is this alright baby?” he asks.  

“Ugh, yes Will, you feel so good. I need you to move, please.” You beg.  

With that his hips snap back and forth behind you, rutting into you at a quick pace. The drag of his cock in and out has you seeing stars again. The feeling is overwhelming and the way he pinches your nipple between his fingers make you moan his name.  

He grunts behind you and nips at your neck, “Fuck baby, you’re taking me so well. So fucking tight. I need your to cum again I need to feel how tight you get when you finish.”  

It’s not long before his wish is granted, and you are tightening your fingers around the fabric below you and crying out. You squeeze him so tight you damn near push him right out of you. He firmly grabs your hips and pulls you flush with him as he moves slowly in and out of you, fucking you through the sensation of your third orgasm. The feeling is enough to tip him over the edge as he spills himself inside the condom with a primal groan in your ear, squeezing your ass with his free hand. His body falls relaxed on you and he huffs out a laugh as he buries his face in your neck.  

“That was, better than I thought it was gonna be.” he says, taking deep breathes before he rolls onto his back. You wince at the sudden emptiness you feel without him in or on you.  

Turning over you rest your head on his firm chest and skate your hand up and down his abs. “That was amazing baby, I felt something I really hadn’t in a long time, maybe ever. You know?” You say, looking up at him with doe eyes.  

Will looks down at you and brings his hand to cup your cheek, his eyes trail between yours and your lips and he whispers softly. “I think I might be falling in love with you.”  

The heat of the summer was surely upon you as you peel your thighs off the leather seats of Wills town car and step out into the humidity. Squinting your eyes from the sunshine, you look around at the Brooklyn neighborhood you used to call home and smile. Will rounds the car and wraps his arm around your waist.  

“You ready for this?” You ask with a bit of sarcasm in your voice. 

He nods, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”  

You smile at each other before stepping towards the stairs leading to the two-story home. Pushing the door open you are immediately met with the sounds of yelling and children’s laughter.  

“Hey everyone!” You call as you and Will move about the house.  

Wills senses are overwhelmed as he dodges a child running past him with a badminton racket and shakes the hands of half a dozen people while you introduce siblings, in-laws, nieces and nephews, and your parents. He looks around at the business of the house and at how natural you look in it and it warms his heart. 

He watches in the kitchen holding his beer your father gave him as you busy around with your mom and sister. It’s all, “Yes I know when the roast needs to sliced.” And “Have you seen the stirring spoon for the sauce?” Every once in a while, you widen your eyes at him and he smirks, taking in the sheer humor of your relationships with your family.  

After the craziness of dinner, you finish cleaning up and lean on the counter, drinking your wine. “Where’s Will?” You ask, peaking into the living room where most of the family has settled.  

Your mom wipes the countertop with a wet rag. “He went out back, probably needed a bit of fresh air.”  

“Hm.” You acknowledge, “So, what do you and dad think about him?” You ask inquisitively.  

She stops her movement and looks back to you, “We were, a little surprised at the age difference I’ll be honest. But he seems like a very nice man, and he obviously treats you very well so, we can’t complain.”  

You smile and look at the window that leads to the back yard.  

“Also, he’s really hot.” She quips.  

Your mouth falls open with disgust, “Ugh, mom don’t say my boyfriends hot.”  

She shrugs, “Hey I’m not too old for him.”  

“Gross.” You laugh, “Well I should probably check on him.” You take your wine glass and go to the back door before turning and pointing at your mother. “And hey, I don’t wanna see that photo album of you during your modeling phase come out tonight, or any night young lady.” You laugh.  

She raises her hands up in the air in innocence and goes back to her cleaning.  

The sight of Wills broad shoulders gets you every time. He sits on the edge of the desk stairs looking out into your mother’s meticulously cared for garden.  

He looks up at you and rests a hand on your back as you settle beside him.  

“Sorry my family is a little crazy.” You say, leaning your head on his shoulder.  

He shakes his head, “No, no it’s perfect. This is, exactly what I needed. I missed this, the big families, the noise, the constant movement. I’ve been sitting still for too long now, not able to find a new family. But this, this could be it, and I love it. I’ve loved every second since we got here.”  

A smile breaks out on your face and warmth fills your heart. You lean in and kiss him deeply before resting your head against his. “I love you Will.” You whisper.  

He smiles and closes his eyes, “I love you too Cookie. Thank you for bringing me here today. I can’t wait for this to be us.”  

Leaning back slightly you ask him, “Do you want kids? I guess we never really talked about it.”  

“Yeah, I know it’s a bit late for me, but I think I could still have a couple kids. If that’s something you would want.” He assures you.  

Nodding you grin, “Yeah, yeah I’d like that.” You begin to lean in for another kiss before the sound of the sliding glass door interrupts your bliss.  

“Alright princess, get on in here and help your mother with the cake.” Your dad remarks from the door, a knowing grin on his face as he watches your flustered state having been caught kissing your boyfriend at the family dinner.  

“Princess?” Will asks, standing up from his spot and taking your hand to help you do the same. 

You huff out a laugh, “He’s been calling me that since I ran off to be in the big city. No longer the pauper in Brooklyn he says, now a princess in tall castle. I’d hardly call my apartment building a castle though.”  

He takes your hand and swings you into him, enveloping you in a tight hug. “Hm, well then maybe it’s time for Cinderella to finally get that castle huh? What do you think about moving in with me?”  

Your mouth gaps at his suggestion, you stutter. “Uh, um, - yes. Holy shit yes, I’d love to.”  

Will smiles, “Perfect, now you can quit that shitty job and work with me at the War Amps. I’ll take care you baby, I promise.”  

Your heart swells and you grab his face, pulling him into a kiss. The first kiss of your happily ever after.  

Omg I finished it and it’s GOOD 💕 gotta finish the proof read and then post later!

OK now that I hammered out a few more Frankie fics the creative juices are flowing and I can finally finish my Will Miller -Sugar Daddy Edition that I started in *checks notes* July 🫠

a r m s

Oh I’m so totally normal about how good he looks

PEDRO PASCAL as ZACH WELLISON Brothers and Sisters - 5.16 Home is Where the Fort Is 

Fancam Assembly - SNL 

Frankie Morales x Reader fic

A little "friends with benefits" Frankie fic for my partner in crime @meanderingcaptainswanmusings - who loves Frankie Morales like I love Dave York!

Summary: You and Frankie are friends. Just friends and nothing more. But after a bad breakup with your dickhead ex and a failed attempt at a Tinder hookup, you find yourself on Frankie's doorstep one Saturday night in a bodycon dress and fuck-me heels. Turns out, Frankie is more than willing to oblige. After all, what are friends for?

8,221 words, rated E for general sexytimes and Frankie's skill with his mouth. AO3 link here

Hope you Frankie fans enjoy!

Frankie With Benefits

You step out of the Uber, muttering your thanks to the driver while closing the door with your phone already in hand to give him five stars and a good tip despite your foul mood. It wasn’t his fault that your date was such a disaster after all, plus he didn’t try to make small talk and played good music instead of some douchey podcast. You can still hear the faint Cuban rhythms as he drives off into the sultry Florida night, it’s both hot and humid as per usual and the contrast between the ice-cold AC in the car to the nearly triple-digit temps outside is a shock to your system that distracts you from noticing something is off until it’s too late.

”Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

While the building in front of you is very familiar, it’s decidedly not your apartment complex. Your plans of changing out of your tight dress and fuck-me heels into some ratty old pjs and killing the bottle of wine chilling away in your fridge while you delete Tinder for good because men fucking suck has just been thrown a major curveball. You open Uber back up to check your ride history and squint at the screen through the false eyelashes that took forever to put on, realizing with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that you must have tapped on the wrong destination when you left the bar in such a rush while telling your date where to shove it. That’s the only explanation as to why you’re not currently looking at your front entrance.

You’re looking directly at Frankie’s house instead.

Fuck.

Standing at the end of his driveway feeling very self-conscious in your bodycon dress with your driver already long gone, you go to book a new ride so you can slip away before any of Frankie’s nosy neighbors start to wonder about the woman loitering on their quiet little street in an outfit that’s decidedly not “family friendly.” Or worse, before Frankie sees you. A minute ticks by, then two, and no drivers pop up, not even with ridiculous surge pricing that you’ll gladly pay just to get home.

“C’mon, c’mon. Ugh!”

You finally give up as the streets nearby stay frustratingly empty on the little map, stuffing your phone into your purse with a sigh and turning to face Frankie’s house. His living room light is on so he’s obviously home and not out with the guys tonight, you can see the soft yellow glow through the curtains like a beacon offering safe harbor after a shitty evening.

It’s Frankie. If you can’t be alone in your apartment drowning your sorrows in grocery store wine, there’s really nowhere else you’d rather be.

“He needs to resurface his driveway,” you mutter under your breath as you carefully pick your way up the asphalt towards his front door. You’re certainly not wobbling with every step because you wore stilettos that make your butt look great but you can’t actually walk properly in. That’s your story and you’re sticking to it. You manage to make it all the way without breaking an ankle, knocking and wondering if it would be less embarrassing to head barefoot to the bus stop at the corner instead of admitting why you’re here. But before you can kick them off and make a break for it Frankie answers, blinking in confusion when he sees you standing on his doorstep in a dress with a neckline that plunges more than an Olympic diver and shoes that cost half a month’s rent, feeling like a complete idiot.

“Hey,” he says, reaching up to scratch behind his neck as he takes you in with those dark, expressive eyes of his. “Um…did we have plans tonight, or something?

He stares openly at your cleavage for a moment before his gaze snaps back up to your face with a sheepish look. If it was any other man you’d be annoyed, but Frankie has never ogled or leered at you in all the time you’ve been friends, and you did just show up unannounced at his door with your tits on full display, after all. You don’t mind if he takes a peek, someone might as well get to appreciate them tonight.

“No,” you reassure him. “Can I come in? I just bailed on a shitty date and must have accidentally picked your address when I ordered an Uber instead of mine. I tried to book another one to take me home but there’s no drivers around right now.”

Frankie nods. “Sure, sure, of course,” he says, shuffling aside to let you in and closing the door behind you with a soft click. You kick off your heels with a sigh because it would be rude to wear them in his house and not because they’re absolutely killing your feet, letting them tangle with his sneakers and already feeling a little better.

“Mi casa et su casa,” he adds with a gallant sweep of his arm once you’re safely inside.

You’ve spent a decent amount of time at Casa Morales since you first met Frankie a few years ago and quickly became friends with him, coming over for everything from backyard BBQs with his Delta Force buddies and their families, to movie nights on his couch just the two of you, to hauling your laundry over in his truck when the machines in your building went out of order again and he insisted that you use his instead of spending money at a laundromat. You know your way around his place. His house is small, but it’s bright and airy just like the ones you sigh over while browsing Zillow in your apartment, and while Frankie’s life can be messy at times (mainly thanks to said Delta Force buddies, Santiago Garcia in particular) he keeps his home neat and tidy and welcoming. When you go into the living room there’s nothing out of place, just a half-eaten bowl of chips and a bottle of beer on the coffee table. On a coaster, no less. The TV is still on, he was obviously enjoying a quiet night in for one when you crashed his evening in a dress that revealed more than it covered and shoes your credit card and arches were both still recovering from.

He follows you in, his presence at your back familiar and comforting despite your current “men fucking suck” state of mind. Frankie’s the lone exception at the moment.

“I’d drive you home but I’ve already had a few beers tonight. Wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”

You wave off the apology in his voice. “It’s fine, I’ll just give it a few minutes and book another ride.”

“Uh, about that….”

You turn and look at him, confused. He gives you a “don’t shoot the messenger” look with both hands raised and nods towards the TV.

“The game just finished. All the Uber drivers are going to be down at the stadium by now.”

“Son of a bitch,” you swear, closing your eyes in frustration. You couldn’t have picked a worse night to get stranded without a ride, everyone within a twenty mile radius of the stadium knows it’s impossible to get an Uber after any big event. Frankie knows it, you know it, you just didn’t plan on your date being a lying asshole and having to compete with twenty thousand sportsball fans for a lift home. That’s it, you were done with dating apps for good, if you hadn’t downloaded Tinder again you could be at home in bed right now having a threesome with your wine and your vibrator and as a bonus your feet wouldn’t hurt.

Yeah, you’re pretty sure you have a few blisters. The damn shoes were just like men, looked so great at first and then rubbed you in all the wrong places.

“Sooooo,” Frankie drawls when you flop down ungracefully on his couch, eyeing you carefully from his tactical position behind the coffee table. “You were on a date tonight? I thought you said you’d given up on dating after Dickface McDickhead….oh fuck, please tell me you’re not back together with that asshole again?”

His nickname for your ex always makes you snort. Frankie was never his biggest fan. He wasn’t Frankie’s either, hating the fact that you two were such good friends. When you finally broke up with him for good, Frankie threw a BBQ the following weekend and grilled you the best steak you’d ever eaten with a huge smile on his face.

”What are we celebrating?” Santi asked when he arrived, putting down the beer he’d brought and eyeing the streamers and balloons decorating Frankie’s backyard in confusion.

“The fact that I won’t go to jail for throwing trash out of my helicopter,” Frankie said.

Santi stared blankly at him. “The fuck are you on about, Fish?”

Frankie just grinned at you over Santi’s shoulder while you rolled your eyes and grabbed one of the drinks. He even had a party hat perched jauntily on top of his ballcap, and a piñata hanging up in the yard, “for the kids”.

You took a few good swings at it with the bat he handed you while picturing your ex’s face on the paper-mache.

The mere thought of getting back with Drew, aka Dickface, makes you shudder. “No, I’m not back with him, and I’m still done with dating.”

You swipe some chips out of the bowl and tuck your legs under you, ignoring how high it makes your dress ride up your thighs with only a token effort to tug it back down.

“You’re done with dating, but you were out on a date? Little confused here.”

Frankie sits down on the other end of the couch, muting the post-game recap on the TV and turning so that he’s facing you. He’s all casual in jeans and a faded T-shirt that stretches over his broad shoulders when he twists, hair falling on his forehead in a mop of messy curls without his usual hat to cover them. You should feel out of place in your sexy little dress, full-glam makeup and the “effortless beachy waves” that took you an hour, three different tutorials and a whole fucking lot of effort to achieve, but you’re far more comfortable here with him than you were with the man you ditched back at the trendy bar full of wannabe influencers with insanely overpriced cocktails. Comfortable enough to tell him the truth, with a little help from the tequila in the deconstructed margaritas that you drank.

“It was supposed to be a hookup,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks go warm in a combination of embarrassment and alcohol.

His eyes go wide at that and he lets out a little cough of surprise. “That explains the dress,” he says, glancing down at it again before quickly looking back up at your face.

You wave a hand up and down yourself. “Dress, shoes, lip gloss,” you list off, not mentioning the rather skimpy new underwear that you’re one wrong move away from flashing him with. “I was tired of sitting home alone on Saturday nights, you know?”

”Hey!” he protests, and you duck your head with a wince. It’s Saturday night and he was sitting home alone until you showed up.

“Sorry. No offense, Frankie.”

“None taken, cariño. But only because it’s you.”

The casual endearment makes you feel even warmer, or maybe it’s just the Patrón you downed before leaving Mr. Talk, Dark, and Liar Liar Pants on Fire back at the bar hitting your system.

“Deconstructed margarita” your ass, it was a shot of triple sec and a shot of tequila with a hideous up charge, and they didn’t even include the lime.

You could leave it at that, suggest watching a shitty Netflix movie to pass the time until you can finally book an Uber and go home to change into something that isn’t squeezing your ribs into new and interesting positions and drink the finest chardonnay Publix had for under ten dollars. Frankie won’t push, won’t judge, you’ve been friends long enough to know that. You’ve seen each other through various highs and lows over the years, he was the first person you called when you got a promotion that you’d worked your ass off for, and when he found out his ex-fiancée was getting married you were the one who picked him up at the bar where he was drowning his sorrows and brought him home to drunkenly cry on your shoulder until he passed out.

If there’s anyone in the world who you can trust with this, it’s him.

“Those last few months with You Know Who,” you start, meaning your ex and not Voldemort despite their many similarities, “we were fighting like all the time. I knew deep down our relationship had become this flaming dumpster fire, but for some stupid reason I kept splashing water on it trying to put it out instead of walking away. And then we had the worst fight ever, and he said…he said-”

You could really do with another shot of tequila for some liquid courage right now. You settle for drinking the last of Frankie’s beer instead while he watches you carefully, tipping the bottle back to get every drop and then setting it down on the coaster with an audible thump.

“-he said I was a frigid bitch in bed and he would have better sex fucking a blow up doll instead of me. That’s what finally did it, I told him we were over. He tried to apologize and begged for another chance, but I just kept hearing it over and over again in my head and I was done. Finally done.”

A muscle ticks in Frankie’s jaw like the countdown clock on a bomb, you can see it even through the scruff of his patchy beard. He glances away for a second and you see his eyes close while he mutters under his breath in Spanish too soft and too fast for you to understand before his gaze snaps back to yours.

“I take it back, he’s not a dickhead,” he says, sounding completely calm. “That’s an insult to actual dickheads. And he’s going to be lucky if he can still run his mouth like that once I’ve knocked out all his teeth.”

Even though he’s ex-military Frankie has never been one for that bullshit macho posturing, which is one of the things you like so much about him. He breaks up bar fights, he doesn’t start them. To see him now, so calm and collected but with such an intense expression and not a hint on his face that he’s kidding or exaggerating, it sends a jolt right through you. His threat to your dickhead of an ex-boyfriend shouldn’t be so sexy, but….

Damn.

You reach out and flick him lightly on the shoulder. “He’s not worth it, and I really don’t want to have to bail your ass out of jail at three in the morning again, Morales.”

“Hey, that was one time!” he protests, adding in a mumble. “And it was Santi’s dumb idea.”

His annoyed pout just makes you laugh, shaking your head at how closely he resembles his namesake when he juts his lower lip out like that. Cutest catfish ever.

“So,” he drawls, after you stop chuckling, “since you didn’t go back to that asshole, thank fuck, then who was the lucky guy tonight? Or unlucky guy, since you ditched him for far better company.”

You shrug, plucking idly at the fabric of your dress. “Just someone I matched with on Tinder. I really wanted to prove Dickface wrong, you know? That I wasn’t uptight and sucked in bed. Swiped right on someone who didn’t have a douchey shirtless mirror selfie in his profile, we met for drinks and everything was going great until a text popped up on his phone while he was showing me a picture of his dog. From his wife.”

Frankie winces. “Seriously?”

The notification lingered on the screen while he frantically tried to swipe it away, not that it would do any good. You were a fast reader, you’d already read the whole thing.

“Yeah. Letting him know there were leftovers waiting for him in the fridge when he got home from work, with a bunch of kiss emojis and a ‘love you babe’. He tried to do the whole, ‘it’s not what you think, we have an open marriage’ bullshit, which sure, I bet he does, so I told him to call his wife and put her on speaker so we could clear that right up.”

“That’s my girl,” Frankie grins.

The praise flows through you like the tequila, remembering how your date went pale as a ghost while you stared him down and his immediate attempts to backpedal.

“Obviously he suddenly had a million reasons why he couldn’t, so I stuck him with the bill and left. Hope he had the decency to tip, at least.”

You let your head fall back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. The adrenaline rush you’ve been riding since you told off Dickhead McDickface the Second and stormed out of the bar on your fuck-me heels is wearing off. You got fucked all right, fucked over.

“I really can pick em, can’t I?” you ask, a rhetorical question if ever there was one. “Went from one asshole to another. A married asshole, no less.”

There’s a rustle of movement to your left and a touch to your shoulder that makes you turn your head to see Frankie has shifted closer to you on the couch and tilted his head to match the angle of yours while he brushes his knuckles lightly down your arm.

“Hey, do you remember that woman I went on a first date with last year who brought her fifteen year old brother along? And we were supposed to see Poor Things? Who brings their brother on a date, let alone to a movie with that many sex scenes? Really, really, explicit sex scenes?”

You do remember, thanks to the texts he sent you with increasing speed until he was blowing up your phone and you’d barely finished one before the next popped up.

She brought her kid with her?

Wait, not her kid, it’s her brother.

Dude’s like 13, what the hell?????

Okay, apparently he’s 15 he’s just “short”. THAT’S NOT THE POINT!!!!!!!

WE’RE SEEING POOR THINGS??!!!!!

WHAT?

WTF?????????

PLEASE TELL ME THERE’S ANOTHER MOVIE WITH THE SAME TITLE THAT DOESN’T HAVE NAKED EMMA STONE IN IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fuck, what do I do?

This is so fucking weird!!!!!!!! SHE BROUGHT HER BROTHER TO THE WEIRD NAKED EMMA STONE SEX MOVIE!!!!!!!!! HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

His bewilderment came right through the screen with the increasing number of exclamation points and the memory makes you giggle. You still can’t think of Poor Things as anything except The Weird Naked Emma Stone Sex Movie thanks to Frankie.

“See?” he says with a smile, “I can’t pick ‘em either. First date was over before the movie even started and I’d already spent like fifty bucks on popcorn and drinks. Still follow her brother on Instagram though, he’s cool.”

You laugh even harder at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. “Dating suuuucks,” you whine in your best angsty teenager impression.

“It sucks so much,” Frankie agrees. “Fuck that married guy. Wait, no, don’t fuck that married guy.”

Now you’re both laughing, so close to each other on the couch that you’re practically touching at the knees. You think to yourself that Frankie has such a nice smile, none of that closed-mouth, thin-lipped thing some guys do as if smiling is an affront to their manhood. Frankie’s smile takes over his whole face, his eyes going squinty and crinkling adorably at the corners.

“I promise I won’t fuck that married guy,” you swear with mock solemnity, crossing your fingers over your heart like a Boy Scout when you finally stop laughing. You let your hand drop to the cushion in between the two of you and close your eyes with a sigh. “Even though I really, really, really need to get laid.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth you freeze, scarcely daring to breathe even as you’re sure you hear a sharp inhale from Frankie at the unguarded confession. He’s so close to you on the couch. So close.

When you gather the courage to open your eyes and meet his dark gaze the air around you has changed, heavy with the weight of what you just said. Neither one of you moves to put a platonic distance back between you like so many other evenings on this couch when you get too close, sharing pizza and drinks and conversation for hours.

Maybe it wasn’t such an accident that you ended up here, with him, tonight.

“You know I’d do anything for you, right?” he asks in a voice so low and thick with promise that it makes your stomach flip and a sharp throb hits you even lower down.

“Anything?” you repeat, your own voice higher than normal. Is he really offering that?

Frankie picks up your hand from where it lays on the couch, lifting it and keeping your eyes locked while he raises it to his mouth and brushes a slow, deliberate kiss along the back that makes you shiver as every last nerve ending rises to attention and begs for more.

“Anything,” he murmurs against your skin. “Say the word.”

His large thumb strokes over the fluttering pulse in your wrist, back and forth, back and forth, while his heavy-lidded eyes stare into yours.

You can’t say you’ve never thought about it, because you definitely have. Frankie’s stupidly attractive, with those thick curls that always escape out from under his baseball caps and his Roman coin profile. But when you first met he was still with his ex, and then he was single but you weren’t, the timing never quite working out for anything between you except friendship and nothing else. Hell, by now he’s pretty much your best friend, the one you would call if you needed to bury a body knowing he’d bring the shovel. There’s no one else you trust as much as Frankie Morales, and there’s no one else you want as much as you want him, right here, right now.

“Kiss me,” you whisper, saying the words you always wanted to say to him.

He shuffles closer, his other hand sliding behind your neck as he brings your lips together. It’s a little clumsy at first, your nose bumping his before he fits his mouth to yours. You feel his fingers press to the nape of your neck and the brush of his knee against your while he kisses you carefully, so soft and sweet and gentle.

At first.

Heat washes over you and it’s all because of Frankie, his kiss turning hot and hungry and demanding. You gasp into his mouth and kiss him back just as eagerly, hands fisting in his T-shirt to pull him closer. He makes a low noise in the back of his throat that you can practically feel, a sexy cross between a groan and a grunt, and pulls away from your mouth far too soon. But before you can protest the loss with more than a pout and pull him back, he’s dusting more kisses under the hinge of your jaw and along your neck, mapping a hot trail down the wide swath of bare skin your dress reveals between your breasts and nuzzling his face right into your cleavage. His hands go to your hips, bunching the fabric and pulling it up impatiently to your waist as he moves even lower. Everything happens so fast that it makes your head spin far more than the tequila and you lean back on the couch for support with your chest heaving and groping for any part of him you can reach. Frankie kneels on the floor, pulling your new underwear off as he goes and you lift your hips to help with anticipation pooling low in your stomach at the realization of what he’s planning to do.

He spreads your thighs apart and looks down between them at where you’re now completely bare and practically dripping with a rush of arousal. His gaze is dark, hungry, a look like nothing you’ve ever seen before on his face replacing his usual easygoing expression.

“She’s fucking gorgeous,” he says in that low voice, staring straight at your pussy. “All pink and perfect and needy for some attention, isn’t she? Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna take very good care of her.”

The breath catches in your throat at that, more than a little shocked by the filthy promise in his words. No man you’ve ever been with has ever said anything remotely like that. Your nipples are firm points against your dress and you must be glistening with how wet you already are. Frankie kisses your inner thigh and mumbles, “lie back a little more for me,” while pulling gently on your hips to position you the way he wants. You’re not about to refuse him anything at this point and you slide lower, feeling your dress ride up even more as you do. While you’re not fully naked yet you feel so exposed, lying with your legs wide open on the same couch where you’ve watched so many bad movies and argued over words while playing Scrabble, because military acronyms don’t fucking count, Catfish! Now he’s nestled between your bare thighs with his wide shoulders wedging them apart and you wonder dimly why you spent all that time not doing this, his insanely kissable mouth so close to your pussy that you can feel his warm breath when he exhales. It makes you tremble with anticipation and Frankie looks up, his eyes meeting yours with an unspoken question behind them. You nod, answering without words. You want this.

He licks you, a slow, broad swipe with the flat of his tongue that has your head falling back and your legs spreading shamelessly wider. Then he does it again, and again, and again, burying his face so deep that you wonder vaguely how he’s even managing to breathe. He doesn’t come up for air anytime soon, holding you firm against his mouth with his hands wrapped around your thighs and seeking out every last spot that makes you writhe and grind against him with moans and cries that you can’t hold back spilling from your lips. It’s loud, both the noises you make and the wet sound of him eating you out like you’re a feast and he’s been starved for days. Frankie makes his tongue a firm point and thrusts it inside you while keeping you spread, the feeling so intimate and erotic that your clit throbs and you absently cup a breast to ease the ache in your stiff nipple. He fucks you with his tongue a few times before he gives you another one of those long, slow licks that go the full length from bottom to top and he zeroes in on your needy clit as if he had a map leading him right to it. You feel his lips close around the swollen bud with a hard suck that has you squeezing your breast with one hand and sinking the other into his messy curls.

“Oh fuck,” you manage to gasp, “Frankie, it’s so good. So good.”

He finally pulls back long enough to rasp, “I want you to come all over my face, baby,” before diving back in. You feel the prod of a thick finger against your dripping entrance, slipping in easily and soon it’s moving in tandem with the flick of his tongue over your clit. The dual sensation makes you whimper, tugging on his hair to urge him closer and rocking your hips. Another finger joins the first, stretching you even more and pressing along your velvety inner walls until he suddenly curls them and hits that spot, the one you almost forgot was there. He strokes it and it’s nothing but bone-melting, toe-curling pleasure that builds and builds relentlessly under your skin until there’s nowhere else for it to go.

You cry out, your climax hitting with the force of a tidal wave and crashing over you. Frankie groans, a low rumble coming from his position between your legs as he clearly feels it in the squeeze around his fingers and the rush of more hot arousal that makes you even wetter and slicker. He rubs it all over his face just like he wanted, his fingers pumping in a lazy rhythm in and out of you until it’s finally over and you’re left limp and boneless on his couch with your dress bunched to your waist and one strap hanging off your shoulder. You’re not sure exactly how you ended up like this, from knocking on his door ready to swear off men forever less than an hour ago to half-naked and panting from the best orgasm you’ve had since….ever. When you manage to lift your head from the cushion to look at him his expression is just as dazed as yours must be even as his lips gleam and his cheeks and chin are damp with you.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his chest heaving under his T-shirt like he just ran a marathon. “Fuck, are you okay? Was that okay?”

Even with the AC blasting there’s still not enough air in the room, it takes you a moment to find some so you can answer him. “Yeah….yeah, I’m okay. It’s okay.”

Okay is an understatement, you don’t even smoke and yet you’re ready for a cigarette now. You don’t even make any move to tug your dress down and cover yourself, one leg still loosely propped on Frankie’s shoulder. He rubs a soothing hand on your thigh and carefully dislodges it so he can stand up, revealing the prominent bulge in his jeans that’s now perfectly at your eye level. Your pussy clenches and throbs at the sight, he got that hard just from going down on you? He follows your gaze and smirks a little when he sees where you’re looking, brushing his hand against his fly.

“All for you, baby,” he says, and reaches to pull you to your feet. “Not on the couch though. Bedroom. I want you in my bed.”

Bed, couch, floor, you really don’t care and you’re already fumbling with his belt buckle and tugging his T-shirt out of his jeans. You drag your nails along the sensitive skin of his stomach right above his waistband and relish the way it makes him shudder, the muscles contracting under your touch. When you look up again he immediately swoops down and kisses you, this time with the taste of you still clinging to his lips and your scent all over his face. It’s raw and messy, tongues and teeth and the little sound of triumph you make when you finally get his belt open. You feel him smile against your mouth while he starts to walk backwards and you have to follow him to work on your next goal, getting his T-shirt off. He’s leading you towards his bedroom, and thank God his house is a bungalow so you don’t have to waste time going up stairs. All that’s between the two of you and his bed is a hallway, and it might as well be one of those funhouse corridors at the county fair with the way you’re both bumping against the walls and tripping over your own feet trying to navigate it. Frankie unabashedly gropes your ass with those large hands of his while he kisses you, not paying attention to where he’s going and knocking pictures on the wall askew with his shoulders. You keep tugging and pulling at his T-shirt, trying to get it off and thwarted by the fact that he won’t let go of your butt long enough to lift his arms.

“Frankie,” you whine against his mouth, shoving fistfuls of cotton up his back, “off!”

He finally pulls back and yanks the shirt over his head with enough force that you’re sure he just completely stretched out the neck, tossing it aside without bothering to see where it lands. The warm expanse of his broad chest presses against you almost immediately, with what feels like miles and miles of bare skin under your exploring hands. His lips fasten to your neck and you tilt your head back, holding onto his shoulders for dear life while he sucks hard enough to leave a mark. You’ll have to cover it before work on Monday, but, fuck it. That’s what concealer is for. If he wants to cover you in hickies like you’re teenagers having their first makeout session, you’ll let him. You’ll let him do whatever he wants at this point.

“Hang on.”

“It’s the only warning you get before he hauls you up with his hands under your thighs, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist. He carries you the last few steps into the bedroom and closes the door with a kick of his foot that makes it slam shut. The sound makes you start before you grin down at him.

“Impatient, much?”

“To have you in my bed at last?” he says, matching your grin with his own goofy smile. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

You can take the man out of the military but you can’t take the military out of the man, Frankie’s bed is made with such sharp precision that it seems a shame to mess it up.

Almost.

The mattress dips when he sets you down, knocking a pillow aside and the duvet no longer perfectly crisp at the edges. You go up on your knees while he stands next to the bed, reaching for where his belt hangs open and using it to tug him closer. It doesn’t take much work to pop open the button on his jeans and pull the zipper down, the sound of the metal teeth parting shockingly loud against the quiet of the room. You reach a hand in and feel the heat of his skin even through the soft material of his underwear, while he stands as still as a statue except for the rise and fall of his chest. He lets you touch and explore and you trace the very long and thick outline of his erection as it twitches and presses eagerly against your hand. Fuck, Frankie is big. The kind of big that’s going to stretch you so deliciously. The kind of big that you’re going to feel the day after. Maybe even longer.

And it’s all yours tonight.

His jeans are quickly joined on the floor by your dress, as you go from bodycon to full frontal. You might have been nervous about finally getting completely naked, if it wasn’t for the unexpected sight of the pattern on his boxer-briefs.

“Frankie,” you laugh, “you actually have fish themed underwear?”

Sure enough, there’s several different types of fish swimming around on the fabric, including his whiskered namesake. When you look back up from the cartoon catfish smiling jauntily across his groin you can see that his ears have gone bright red in embarrassment.

“It was a gag gift from the guys,” he mumbles, not meeting your eyes, “they’re really comfortable, and well, I wasn’t exactly expecting to take my pants off in front of anyone tonight, you know.”

You rest your hands on the waistband and trace a nail along the bare skin just above, trying and failing to stifle the urge to giggle.

“Wanna put your pants back on then?” you ask, teasing the sensitive spot below his navel.

“Fuck no.”

His lips crash back down on yours again, his arms circling your waist. The Finding Nemo joke you were about to make is immediately forgotten as you blindly peel the boxers off, letting the school of fish puddle at his feet and immediately get kicked away. You wrap a hand around his cock, so long and thick that it makes you ache with the thought of having it inside you. God, you need this. You need him.

Frankie lets out a deep groan against your mouth when you start to stroke, dragging your hand up and down the length of him from root to tip and back again. You rub your thumb over the sensitive head and twist your fingers under the crown, teasing out all the sensitive spots and figuring out what he likes. A hard grip, bordering on rough, has his chest heaving and his hips jerking while his cock throbs in your hand.

“Jesus Christ,” he bites out. “Like that, baby, just like that.”

The sheer unguarded pleasure on his face gives you everything you wanted tonight with your dress and the heels and the lacy underwear. You feel sexy. Desired. Powerful. Able to bring a man to his knees with your touch. Literally, Frankie’s legs start to buckle and he has to brace himself against the bed to stay upright. You keep stroking him until he finally pulls your hand away gently and kisses your open palm before joining you on the bed. He practically jumps onto it in his eagerness, making you bounce with the movement.

“Condom?” he asks, twisting towards his nightstand, “I have some-“

“I’m good,” you interrupt. You want to feel him inside you without that barrier. “I’m on the pill.”

His arm drops from where he was reaching for the drawer. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all month.”

You never would have fucked your Tinder date without a condom, but this is Frankie. Your Frankie. You trust him. He rolls on top of you and your trust only grows when he hesitates, looking down into your eyes.

“Are you absolutely sure about this? We can always stop.”

He pushes a lock of hair out of your face with a gentle touch and you know without a doubt that if you wanted to stop he would without complaint even though he hasn’t come yet. You run your hands up his arms and feel the tension in his biceps, the strain of holding himself back. He’s braced above you, his hair a complete mess, gorgeously naked and hard as a rock, and you are one hundred percent sure about this.

“I don’t wanna stop.”

You wrap your legs around his waist, a perfect fit between your thighs. Frankie angles his hips while he leans down for another kiss and you feel the hot slide of his cock as he finds your entrance with that pilot’s accuracy of his, then the press of the blunt head as he starts to push inside. He moves slowly, carefully, giving you time to adjust to the stretch and burn. And it does burn, in the very best way. It’s been months since you’ve had sex, and far longer since you’ve had good sex, your frustration had built to a fever pitch under your skin and Frankie just lit a match. You both feel it when you open for him fully, that final slide is smooth and easy and he buries himself right to the hilt.

“Fuuuck,” he bites out. “Took me so fucking good, perfect fucking pussy.”

His dick is pretty damn perfect too, in your opinion, filling you up and creating the most delicious friction when he starts to move. You pull his head down for another kiss before he buries his face in your neck and rocks his hips into yours, gradually building the rhythm while you run your hands along his back and feel the muscles ripple and flex with each thrust. It’s everything you needed and more, the thick drag of him inside you has you arching your back and crying out and it only seems to spur him on even more. He plants a knee on the bed and lifts your leg, shifting his hips so that he can go even deeper. You clutch helplessly at his sheets when the tip of his cock finds your sweet spot and make a noise you don’t even recognize, a throaty moan pulls from your throat while your toes curl and your pussy throbs.

“Frankie,” you manage to gasp, clutching both his shoulders and gripping him even tighter from the inside, “oh god, there! Right there!”

“That’s it baby,” he murmurs into your skin. “Come all over my cock.”

He leans over you, thrusting hard and balancing on one hand to reach down with the other so he can work your swollen clit. The first swipe of his fingers on the sensitive bud sends a jolt through your entire body that melts into sheer unadulterated pleasure. With a few more you’re teetering right on the edge, and then Frankie grinds especially deep on his next thrust and presses down hard with his thumb. It grips you and doesn’t let go, your second climax of the night is even stronger than the first and has you squeezing him as if you’re trying to drag him even further inside, contracting along the length of his cock while he grits his teeth and fucks you through it. When the aftershocks finally stop and you relax back into the mattress with a sigh Frankie pulls out, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips and laying down next to you.

It takes you a few moments in your post-orgasmic haze to notice that he’s still hard, his cock is practically flush to his stomach and glistening with your arousal.

“You didn’t?” you ask, confused as you glance down.

He follows your gaze with a strangely bashful look. “Not yet. I want…I want you to ride me.”

That sends another hot rush right between your legs, suddenly wanting it desperately too. You’re not sure if you’re going to be able to walk afterwards, especially not in those stupid heels, but it’s going to be so fucking worth it.

Frankie stretches out fully on the bed, those long legs and broad shoulders taking up so much space on it. Luckily there’s more than enough room for you right there on his lap. You swing a leg over, hands pressing down on his chest for balance while he looks up at you with that crooked grin he always gets when he’s especially pleased about something. A sinful roll of your hips along his thick erection only makes his smile wider when he feels how wet you still are.

“Take me in,” he begs shamelessly, hips moving under you and hands roaming over your skin. “Please, baby.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

It’s another delicious stretch, sliding down his thick erection and feeling him rub you in all sorts of interesting new ways from this angle. Once you’re seated fully you give yourself a moment before you start to move, his heart racing under your palm and his cock held snug and warm deep inside you.

Frankie’s done so much already for you tonight, this is for him. You want to give him just as much pleasure as he gave you, make it just as good for him when you start to roll your hips again to take him in again and again and again. His hands find your thighs and flex against them while he watches with a rapt expression, eyes glued to where you’re joined before looking up to take in the full sight of you riding him just as he wanted.

“Good?” you ask, gasping the word out.

“So fucking good,” he groans. His hips lift under you right as you go down on the next stroke and it’s even better, the way you just fit. You use muscles you didn’t even know you had, increasing your pace and riding him hard. The cords on his neck pop when he throws his head back against the pillow, jaw clenched and nostrils flaring with each exhale of breath. He has to be close, you can sense it in the increasingly desperate noises he makes and the way his fingers dig into your skin as he holds you steady on top of him. Your breasts bounce and your thighs are burning with the effort of maintaining the rhythm but you don’t stop, can’t stop, you need Frankie to fall apart just like he’s done for you twice already. You want to see the look on his face and hear the noises he makes when he comes, adding a circle of your hips that makes his eyes close and his body jerk under you. He feels even harder now, and your legs aren’t the only thing that’s burning. Frankie is hitting every sweet spot inside of you, filling you so deep and full that the familiar prickle and spark is starting again. You weren’t expecting to come for a third time, but then again you weren’t expecting anything else that happened tonight and it’s definitely happening. Frankie thrusts up with a growl, yanking you down on him with the same motion and holding you there while you feel him pulse hot and he lets out a long, loud moan like no other noise he’s made all night. The sound and the sensation make you molten, almost there and even deep in the throes of his own pleasure he reaches for your clit and gives it a pinch that’s all you need to fall over the edge with him. With your hands braced on his chest you throw your head back and let it wash over you while you keep rolling your hips to draw out more and more of those gorgeous sounds out of him until he finally starts to soften. You collapse in a heap on his chest and his arms immediately wrap around you, lips brushing against the top of your head while you bury your face against his sweaty chest and your heartbeats slowly go back to normal.

It’s nice.

It’s more than nice.

You could get used to it.

You can’t. You shouldn’t. You’re just friends.

Friends who just fucked rather spectacularly.

Fuck.

After a few moments you slide off of him to lie on your back, looking up at the ceiling instead of at him. Now things are going to be all weird and awkward and as amazing as the sex was, it wasn’t worth the inevitable end of your friendship. Silence stretches between you and creates more and more space in its wake.

“There’s probably Ubers available now,” you say at last, keeping your gaze away from his face so you don’t see his expression shift from lover to stranger. By the time the driver gets here you’ll have your dress back on and your feet shoved into your shoes and you and Frankie can start pretending this never happened. Maybe that will work.

There’s a snort from next to you. “Yeah. That’s not happening, I’m driving you home tomorrow. After we sleep. And shower. And stop at that diner on 53rd cause I’m gonna need one of those giant lumberjack breakfasts to recover from this.”

You feel yourself flush a bit, as ridiculous as it is considering you’re naked in his bed with “this” still sticky on your inner thighs.

“I’m not going to a diner in that dress,” you say, still looking at the ceiling and adding silently, “or those shoes that could double as torture devices.”

“So you wear one of my T-shirts or something,” Frankie’s voice trails away into a jaw-cracking yawn before he continues, “we’ll figure it out in the morning. Fuck, you really did a number on me.”

Yawning is contagious, you can feel one building and you’re suddenly on the verge of falling asleep thanks to the number he did on you and the incredibly comfortable bed that you never want to leave. Best sex you’ve had in….ever, all thanks to Frankie. But you don’t give in to the urge to just close your eyes and go to sleep, as tempting as it is, turning your head to look at your best friend instead and finding him looking back at you in the dark.

He’s still Frankie. You’re still you.

You’re still friends.

“Frankie? Will we figure…this out in the morning?”

His fingers lace with yours under the blankets and he gives you a soft smile.

“Yeah. We will, baby, I promise.”

When you fall asleep you’re on your side with Frankie plastered to your bare back, his arm firm around your waist like he’s afraid you might try to sneak away in the middle of the night. The thought had occurred to you, to escape all the morning after awkwardness. Frankie isn’t just a hookup or a one-night stand though, he means so much more to you than that. So you lay your hand over his and relax into his embrace with a sigh, wondering as you drift off if he’ll let you borrow his prized vintage AC/DC T-shirt to wear home…..

….and if he’d be up for another round in the shower in the morning.

The answer to both turns out to be a resounding yes.

Pedro Pascal as Marcus Acacius. From the new Gladiator II trailer.

PEDRO PASCAL & CONNIE NIELSEN in new stills of ' GLADIATOR II"

One Shots

Pickup Truck

summary: frankie hates your boyfriend. in fact, everybody does. but he’s willing to give him a chance. you’re his best friend, after all. until frankie discovers something he can never forgive.

beg

summary: frankie's tied up, strung out. it's just a matter of how long he lasts.

Tommy's Party

summary: your handsome new roommate spells trouble. or, a bunch of times you and frankie nearly fuck. and then one time you do.

pt. i - you and your friends pt. ii - tommy's party

Series

On Call

series summary: there are many things frankie morales used to laugh at in romcoms. falling in love with the girl next door, the babysitter, your best friend. and then he met you.

listen/watch/touch

series summary: you’ve been serving frankie and his friends at your bar for months. despite your wishing and wanting, the shy pilot doesn’t work up the nerve to ask you out before santi introduces you to his buddy, joel. swept off your feet by the sweet southerner, and charmed by pope, the boys come together to show frankie exactly what it is he’s missing.

The Debt That I Owe (coming 12/24)

series summary: you saved a cowboy's life, once. and then, when you most need him, he returns to repay the favour. what follows is a journey that spans states, worlds, lifetimes. forging the closest friendships you have ever nurtured, chasing the promise of an existence beyond the one you've lived.

dividers from @saradika-graphics

his hair, his beard.

OK now that I hammered out a few more Frankie fics the creative juices are flowing and I can finally finish my Will Miller -Sugar Daddy Edition that I started in *checks notes* July 🫠

Window of Opportunity 

Frankie Morales fanfiction x f! reader 

Summary: Years spent with the wrong guy leaves you desperate for true love and single again. Will Frankie be able to squeeze into the window of opportunity and confess his feelings, or will he miss his shot again?

Warnings: swearing, deadbeat boyfriend, talks of infidelity, drinking, friends to lover’s, fluff, kissing 

Picture is just for the banner, does not indicate readers appearance.

Word Count: 6k+ 

“Alright it’s Thirsty Thursday guys, what can I get you?” You say with a smile spread across your face, staring at your favourite customers and some of your best friends, Santi, Will, Benny and Frankie. They themselves have been coming into this bar for 6 years, after they were all discharged from the army and relocated to Fort Lauderdale. You’ve worked at this bar for almost 8 years now, having gotten the job in your mid-twenties to make some extra cash. It was only supposed to be temporary but here you are all these years later, still with an apron wrapped around your waist, a pen tucked behind your ear and shuffling around behind the old wood bar, illuminated by the neon beer signs. 

Santi offers you a kind wink as he settles onto the bar stool across from you, “Just a Rum and Coke sweetheart.” His effervescent smile shining as bright as always.  

Nodding, you begin to make the drink, while Benny and Will offer up their orders. Finally, Frankies sweet brown eyes meet yours and your lungs feel a bit lighter. “And what about our pilot?” you ask sweetly.  

He grins just enough for some of his teeth to peek out below his mustache and tucks his hand under his chin, “Surprise me Skip.”  

Smirking, you begin to whip him up your favourite and slide it over to him on the bar.  

Taking it, he smiles, “Should’ve guessed it’d be a Whisky Sour.” 

“Hey, pick your own drinks if you don’t like my favourite.” You say with a huffed laugh, knowing that despite them not being his type of drink, he’ll sip it down anyway. “How has your week been?” 

“Good, picked up Camila from JK on Monday so now she’s with me until next week Friday morning. She’s having some much-needed Abuela time right now.” 

“That’s good, everything still good with Liv?” You ask intently. 

He shrugs, “Yeah I’d say so, we’re doing pretty well at the whole coparenting thing now that negotiations are over.”  

You reach over and pat his hand that rests on the bar top, “Good, you’re a good dad Frankie. I’m glad you’re able to enjoy her again.”  

His ears and cheeks grow red, and his eyes soften, he whispers to you, “Thanks Skip, couldn’t do it without you.”  

Pulling your lips into a tight smile, you bat your lashes a bit to relax and turn your attention back to the rest of the group, “So, Will, how was the trip? Did you pick a venue?” 

Will nods, “Yeah, Orange County is really beautiful. It was tough picking just one place to have the wedding at, but we put a deposit down on a winery, so now we have a date which is great.” He says with a smile plastered across his face.  

“Oh, that’s great, Wendy must be so excited. Especially since it can be so close to her family.” You say before you notice the server drop down some chits on the other end of the bar. “Oh, I’ll be back guys.” You say before departing down the bar to work on the new orders.  

Later, you are standing cutting limes in front of the men, talking and laughing causally when the bell on the door chimes again. You look up, seeing your boyfriend Marcus step through the door and scan the room for you. The rest of the group turn their heads slightly to see what has caught your attention.  

Frankie grumbles to himself as he peers over his drink to see your boyfriend strutting towards the bar. His overbuilt muscles and $50 hair cut speak volumes about his personality. “Why’s Marcus here?” 

Will nudges his shoulder with a shush, Frankies eyes widen slightly realizing his voice was a tad bit higher than it should have been. Luckily for him, you had already moved down the bar towards Marcus. “He’s here to see his girlfriend, idiot. Why wouldn’t he be here?” Will says sarcastically.  

“He only visits her at work when he needs money.” Frankie states matter-of-factly under his breath.  

“That’s none of your business man, play nice.”  

With that Frankie rolls his eyes and stares Santi down the bar with an annoyed look on his face. Santi nods and takes his hint. Standing from the stool he calls over to you, “Hey Skip, we’re gonna be at the pool table.” The rest of them follow his lead and stand with their drinks to head over to the other side of the room.  

You nod and smile at them before turning your attention back to Marcus.  

“Why do they call you Skip anyway?” Marcus asks, leaning his body weight on the bar top.  

You shrug and smile to yourself, “One time, they were the only ones in the bar, like it was completely dead, and so we played Uno. The guys were such assholes every time it was one of their turns before me, they played a skip card. I swear I got every skip a turn card the whole night.” You say, laughing slightly until you see the utterly unamused face of your boyfriend staring back at your explanation. Swallowing your laughter quickly you clear your throat, “Um, and so yeah, they just call me Skip now because of uh…’cuz of that.”  

His face hangs low with uninterest, “Huh, guess you didn’t get many tips that night huh?” 

Pulling your face tight you reply, “No, I guess not.” 

“Does that happen often? Maybe you should find a different place to work where you can make more money.”  

“Um, no it doesn’t happen a lot. I think there was a storm that day.” You say quietly before stepping to the side to grab your wallet. “So, uh- how much did you say you needed for this football thing again?” 

He rolls his eyes exasperated, “Babe, it’s my fraternity brothers NFL fantasy league, it’s not just some football thing. And the buy in is $200.”  

Your eyebrows pop up, “Geeze, that’s kind of steep, isn’t it?”  

“It’s not about that, it’s about the networking I do with it, alright?” Marcus says. 

Nodding, you hand him the cash from your wallet, and he takes it with a giant smile, “Thanks babe, you’re the best you know that right?” He says before leaning across the bar and planting a kiss on your cheek.  

You say your goodbyes and wipe your sweaty hands on your jeans, letting out a deep breath you didn’t realize you were holding.  

Across the room, Frankie watches you fidget after your uncomfortable meeting with your boyfriend. He stands near the pool table holding his stick standing straight up and leaning some weight on it. “What is she still doing with that guy?” He asks the group. 

Benny huffs, “Wish I knew. Every time we hang out it’s always Marcus did this, and Marcus won’t do that. It’s like she’s his mom”  

Will steps up to the table and leans forward to take his shot, “He seriously doesn’t mind the two of you hanging out as much as you do?” 

“Nope, she even asked him before the first time we went to the movies if it was okay, and the guy is so fucking full of himself he said there’s no way she would ever find better than him, so he doesn’t worry about her cheating at all. In fact, one time he even thanked me for “listening to all her bull shit” so he doesn’t have to.” He says with air quotes and a sarcastic tone. 

Santi shakes his head, “What a dick. Why won’t she just end it with him?” 

Benny steps up to the red-felt pool table and eyes his shot that his brother has set up for him by accident. “Oh, she’s still holding out hope that he’ll man up and pop the question and then things will be better. Not gonna happen though, I think he’s cheating.”  

With that Frankie straightens up, “Why do you say that?” 

“He’s shady as shit, she works evenings and a lot of weekends, you think an asshole like that is really just waiting around for her watching Game of Thrones by himself every night?” 

“So, you don’t have any proof then?” Will comments. 

“Well, don’t tell her I told you this. But a few months ago, she got a DM from a girl that she knows, claiming he was hitting on her at a bar across town. But this girl knew Skip and recognized him from her social media, so she turned him down and messaged her. When Skip asked him about it, he said he wasn’t hitting on her, he was just trying to make some female friends, since you know, she has so many male friends.” he says, pointing around the pool table at the group of them and shaking his head at the obvious lie.  

They all groan in response and look over at you at the bar, working tirelessly to pay for yourself and your deadbeat boyfriends’ lifestyle. All the while he’s probably sneaking around behind your back and then dipping in to steal a kiss and some cash. 

Behind the bar, you stare blankly at the faucet on the sink, seeing your angled reflection in it. Your face looks sad, your eyes tired and your heart sunken. All you want, all you’ve ever wanted, was a relationship, an engagement, a marriage, a house and a family. It’s what you grew up in, it’s what your sister has. The white picket fence, the husband that kisses her at the door when he gets home, the two beautiful children she chases around all day. In your early twenties, it seemed like something that was guaranteed. Then it was just disappointing man after another until you finally found yourself on a date with Marcus 6 years ago. He was handsome and charming, and after a year you settled into a nice routine. But year after year you asked for a ring and never got one. One thing you could control was the house, so you saved everything you had to buy both of you one, thinking that would kickstart the conversation again. Yet here you are, a cold finger and your love for a man long gone, but 6 years too long invested in the relationship to bow out now.  

Grabbing a washcloth, you decide to take out your frustrations through cleaning up the bar top, using all the bent-up anger you felt towards your life to scrub off that damn stain you’ve never been able to get off. You peer up through your lashes and see the guys at the pool table, seemingly in deep discussion. You wonder if they’re shit talking your boyfriend. You wouldn’t blame them if they were, you wish you could join them. Frankie rounds the table and bends over to take his shot. His t shirt stretching across his broad shoulders, his curly locks peeking out from underneath the baseball hat you loved to see him in. Frankie, a man who actually talked about wanting a marriage one day but lost it all when his girlfriend fell in love with someone at work. He says they were mostly together for their child that they had accidentally gotten pregnant with and that he could move on. Not seeing his baby girl every day was by far the hardest part for him.  

Frankie was different than the others to you. Santi was your advice guy, always offering his words of wisdom. Will was your hands on guy. Need your breaks done on your car? Will’s got it. Need an Ikea cabinet put together? Will’s on it. Benny is your bestie, your movie and sushi date guy. Your talk shit about your boyfriend guy. But Frankie, Frankie is your if things were different guy. If you weren’t with Marcus, if he was ever even interested in you. Maybe, he could be something more, just by the way you talk so earnestly with one another, you knew he would never treat you the way Marcus does. And boy was he cute. You wish you felt bad when you would find yourself thinking about him late at night instead of your boyfriend laying a foot away from you. You figure after his failed relationship he is probably done with anything serious, maybe just date casually for the next few years and then settle down with someone as a companion. Surely, he wouldn’t be interested in learning about how lovesick you are over him and ruining your friendship and his favourite hangout-. 

A hand suddenly grabs yours to hold it still as you look up and see Frankie looking at you with concerned eyes. You look back down at the bar and see that during your whole internal monologue, you had still been scrubbing the stain and now the pain in your wrist was starting to register just how aggressive you were being with it. Pulling your hand out of his grip you toss the rag into the bucket and slowly rub your wrist with your hand, avoiding eye contact with the man across from you.  

He breathes deeply out of his nose and grabs some of the paper towel you have on the counter to wipe up the soap and water on the spot. He pulls a half smirk and looks at you, “Looks like you finally got that stain huh?”  

You peer over and see that it is indeed gone, certainly needed some elbow grease.  

“You okay?” he asks. The very last question you want to answer right now.  

Doing your best impression of a girl who is going to be okay, you nod and suck your teeth before muttering out, “Yeah, yeah just, - really fucking hated that stain.”  

Frankie can see the tears that want to spill over your eyes, knowing you the way he does, he knows very well that you do not want to lose it right there behind the bar. “Alright well, could I get another delicious Whisky Sour please?” he says with a boyish grin on his face. 

Looking up at him through your lashes you let out a chuckle, “I thought you didn’t like them.”  

“People change.” He states.  

His words dry your throat, and you do your best to nod and go on making his drink. Hoping his statement to be true.  

The night wears on and you say your goodbyes. You close up shop and head home to Marcus, playing every moment of the night through again in your head and hoping to make that people change statement a reality, whether it be you or Marcus.  

Sunday is your day off, and you and the guys planned a backyard BBQ at Will and Wendys to commemorate the end of summer. 

Frankie steps through the patio doors into the backyard. A red and white striped umbrella is stretched out over the patio table and chairs where Santi is seated comfortably talking with Wendy while Will works on the grill. He moves to sit down across from Santi and says hello to everyone.  

Wendy excuses herself to go work on the salad for dinner, and Frankie stares at the door she exits through, hoping you may come through it. Alas, you still don’t show up after another ten minutes, so he turns to Santi. 

“When are uh, Ben and Skip getting here?” Frankie asks, urging his voice to sound less eager than it does.  

Santi gives him a knowing look, “Ben told Will yesterday they may be a bit late cuz Ben had to go out of town this afternoon to pick up some stuff from their moms, she went with him for the drive.”  

Frankie nods and brings his cold beer to his lips, excited at the notion that Marucs won’t be joining them after all.  

A half hour later, Frankie, Santi and Will are seated at the patio table as Wendy finishes up in the kitchen. Their attention is pulled from their conversation when they hear Bennys boisterous voice call out to her as he moves through the kitchen and to the sliding patio door.  

“No Skip?” Santi calls out, as he notices Bennys lonely walk towards them. Frankie and Will look up from their plates of appetizers to observe your apparent absence for themselves. 

The younger man has a surprisingly pleased look on his face as he slides into the chair next to Will. “You’re never gonna believe this. They broke up.” He states with excitement burning behind his eyes.  

The group looks perplexed for a beat, Will asks to clarify “Who broke up?” 

“Skip and Marcus.” Benny says, popping his eyebrows up and down and nudging Frankie’s shoulder.  

Frankie’s eyes blow wide, unable to believe what he was hearing. His ears ring and before he knows it, he’s lost part of the conversation, gripping his beer bottle tighter he tries to focus on the flow of questions coming Bennys way from Will and Santi. 

Santi leans forward on the glass tabletop, “What happened?” 

“She finally had enough. I guess she tried to talk to him again last night about getting engaged and just like all the other times, he made up shitty excuses, so she dumped him right there on the spot. Took all her shit and is staying with her sister right now until they get the house sold and her money back. She called me this morning to tell me she couldn’t come today.” 

“How’s she doing? She okay?” Will asks, concern growing in his voice.  

Shrugging, Benny replies, “As good as she can be, I think. They were together a long time, and she feels like it was all wasted. He’s such a jackass.” He says before shoving some chips from a bowl on the table into his mouth. 

Will glances at Frankie, “So Fish, girl of your dreams finally single. What do you think about that?”  

His eyebrows almost get caught in his hair line and he stutters, “I uh- what. Don’t know what you’re talking about Will.” he says, trying to slurp down his beer before he puts his foot in his mouth instead. 

Shaking his head he dives deeper, “Don’t give me that shit man, we owe nothing to that guy. You’ve always liked her, you’ve been respectful, but now she’s fair game.”  

Santi nods along, “Yeah, we all know man. It’s pretty obvious.” 

Benny and Will nod along to Santis’ statement as Frankie looks around flabbergasted. “Seriously? Does she know?” 

“Nah, I don’t think so. She’s been too caught up in her own shit to notice.” Benny confirms.  

“But now’s the time to make a move, alright? Don’t let the window of opportunity close. Girls like that don’t stay single long.” Santi comments, giving Frankie a stern look.  

Frankie nods, “I can’t just ask her out the day after her relationship ended, she needs time to process this. I don’t want to be a rebound. I’ll let her sell the house, get her shit together, and then I promise I’ll talk to her.” He says defensively.  

“You better, because I’m not listening to her complain about another shitty boyfriend for half a decade.” Benny says, tapping his hand on the table and peering up at the sky, thinking about all the nights he’s had to hear you cry about how Marcus wouldn’t commit to you, even your house was bought by you, him not wanting to invest too much of his savings in case it didn’t work out between the two of you.  

“I don’t think any of us want to see her go through that again, and Frankie man, you’d be perfect together. I hope it works out for you.” Will says, reaching over to pat Frankie on the chest.  

Frankie nods, “How do I do this without looking like a total jackass who just wants to take advantage of her vulnerable state though?” he asks inquisitively.  

Santi shakes his head, “Frankie, Frankie, always counting yourself out before you get in the game. Any girl would be lucky to get a man like you, just have some faith in yourself alright?” 

Before they can continue the conversation, Wendy waltzes up to the table with salads in tow. “Alright everybody, time to dig in.” 

Thursday comes around again; you have switched shifts with the other bartender for a very exciting reason. Each of the guys had reached out in their own ways after they got the news on Sunday, simple texts and calls here and there, all trying to be as delicate as possible. 

Skipping through the door, you make your way over to the booth the guys are situated at. Santi spots you first and gestures to you for the rest of the group to turn and look. They all grin when they see your smile, your hair done exactly how you like it best, a white sundress with brown flowers and brown sandals finishing off the look. Frankies eyes light up seeing your sunny appearance and blossoming self-confidence.  

“Whoa, what are you all dressed up for?” Santi whistles, taking in your ensemble. 

Smiling brightly, you stand in front of the booth and state, “I have a date.”  

Their faces drop entirely, and Frankie can swear you could hear his heart fall to the floor and roll down between the booths like a child dropping candy in church.  

Will is the first to pick his jaw up from his chest and stutter out, “A date?”  

Nodding you reply, “Yep, I’m meeting him soon for drinks and appetizers but I needed to swing by here first for my pay cheque.”  

Santi waves his hands casually in the air as he formulates a question. “Don’t you think that’s a little soon, I mean, you and Marcus broke up last week.”  

“I know, I know trust me I’ve heard it already from my sister. But I’m not really grieving the relationship ‘cuz to be honest, I fell out of love with Marcus a long time ago, but I just had already invested all that time and energy, so I wanted to make it work. But, since he’s a total asshat, I have now had no choice but to move on and there’s no time like the present. I don’t want to have wasted 6 years with him and then 6 months waiting for the “right time” to start dating again and then another 2 years trying to meet the right person.” You take a deep breath, trying not to get too worked up over your current situation and pinch your eyes closed for a moment. “I just want…. All I’ve wanted this whole time is a marriage and a family and I’m frankly running out of time. So, I hopped on the dating apps and met this guy Sean, and now we’re going on a first date and then I guess we’ll see what happens from there.” You finish your sentence out of breath and out of options. If Marcus wasn’t your person, and you were too scared to see if Frankie would be interested in you, then this would have to do. 

Frankie can’t believe his ears. He’s already missed the window of opportunity. You’re going to go on a date with this guy, he’s going to fall madly in love with you, because how could he not and whether you like him or not, you’ll stay with him another 6 years just like Marcus. You just want it so badly, that you’ve grown careless with your heart. His stomach is turning in his seat as he tries not to look at Santi, whose eyes he can feel burning into him with a plea to stop this madness.  

The uncomfortable silence finally creeps through your skin and makes you eager to leave. Their shocked and unapproving faces with no acknowledgement of what you have said has you unsettled and honestly kind of annoyed. Looking over your shoulder, you spot your manager and nod to her briefly. “Well, um, I’m gonna go get my cheque and then head out.” Turning quickly, you miss the way their heads all spin to Frankie whose mouth still lay low.  

Benny finally speaks once you are out of ear shot, “What the fuck?” He throws his hands into his hair and looks around the table dumbstruck.  

Will is shaking his head and chewing his bottom lip, Santi is still looking at Frankie as if trying to use secret superpowers to control his body and make him rush after you. Frankie is silent, picking at the label on his cold beer as the condensation loosens the adhesive on the fish picture laden across the front.  

Santi finally breaks his stare and leans in closer, “You gonna do anything about this Fish?” 

Frankie shrugs, “Nothing I can do. You heard her, she’s moving on.”  

“From Marcus, not from you.”  

“Same difference.” He sighs, blowing all the air and joy out of his lungs.  

Shaking his head Santi straightens up in his seat. “No, it’s not the same man. She has no idea you have feelings for her and I’m willing to bet if you told her to cancel that date, she would in a heartbeat.” 

Shaking his head he sighs, “You don’t know that man, what if I fall flat on my face with her. There’s no going back.”  

Will leans his elbows on the table, “Fish, you gotta start believing in yourself more. I know what happened with Liv was really hard on you but-,” 

“But it wasn’t.” Frankie states. Upon being met with the confused eyes of his comrades he continues with shaky breathes, “It wasn’t hard. I liked Liv, felt something similar to love at times when it was easy, but it wasn’t hard when she left, because she wasn’t Skip.” His voice trails off with his confession.  

The familiar sound of your sandals hitting the hard wood floors snaps the group out of their trance, they turn to look at you with desperate eyes, unsure what to say as you stop for a beat in front of them.  

“Alright well, got my cheque.” You say awkwardly, raising the envelope up slightly in your hand. “You guys have a good night.” You tuck your chin down and don’t wait for their goodbyes. They’re being completely weird after all, gawking at you with open mouths like it’s the worst mistake of your life to go on this date.  

Stepping through the bar door you’re hit with the humidity of a late summer night. The sun was already setting leaving a low glow across the sky. You stand for a second, squeezing your eyes and urging the thoughts of Frankie out of your mind in an effort to stop the trickle of tears that would surely flow if you let yourself convince yourself that this wasn’t a mistake. Convince yourself you should go back in that bar and put it all on the line, even if it meant you’d fall with no safety net and lose him for good. That just wasn’t your style though, you didn’t free fall, you didn’t trust the universe. You needed certainty, and right now, the only certainty was that there was a handsome guy, who actually expressed interest in you waiting at a different bar, ready and willing to give you a shot. Taking one last look over your shoulder, you let your breath out and head to your vehicle.  

Frankie and the guys sit in silence, unsure what to do now. He watched as you left, desperate to follow and grab your wrist to spin you around and plant a seething kiss to your luscious lips.  

Benny takes a deep breath in and out, settling his head against the back of the booth. “That girl, Frankie, is worth the ifs, ands or buts. You know that, I know that, and I’m willing to bet she would agree.” 

Before Frankie can respond, the bartender that is covering for you, Tasha, hurries up to the table with a black notebook in hand. “Hey, did she leave already?” 

Santi nods, “Uh, yeah just. Why what’s up?” 

Tasha huffs, “She forgot her day planner again, would one of you be able to drop it off? I know she needs it before her next shift.” She asks. 

Frankie clears his throat and nods, “Yeah, no problem, Tash I’ll get it to her.” He says, leaning forward and taking the book out of her hands.  

She says thank you and swiftly heads back to the bar to greet the hoard of customers who have just stumbled through. 

Frankie stares absentmindedly at the worn book, pages from old day planners ripped out of their books and stuffed into this one instead of rewriting all the phone numbers and addresses you have in it. Quietly he passes it back and forth in his hands, a million thoughts running through his mind when it slips and falls down onto the table, some of the pages slipping out and exposing themselves in front of him. The guys look on with confused faces as Frankies face falls while he reads one of the faded and crinkled pages in front of him.  

Santi is the first to express his interest, “What’s that?” 

Taking a deep gulp, he picks up the piece of paper to examine it closer. Upon being sure that it says what he thinks it says, he slowly turns it around and slides it into the middle of the table for the guys to read. They all lean in and fall silent to see what has their friend so shocked.  

Frankie 555-666-7777 

baseball hat  

bar 

cutest guy ever?  

Update to self- definitely cutest guy ever 

He looks down at the book on the table, and thinks to himself, would it be wrong to go through it. Yes, it definitely would be, but he has to know if there’s anything else you’ve written about him it.  

Before the guys can get their “heys” and waits” out, he is opening up the cover and sifts through the pages. His ears start to ring as week after week contain the same notations. 

Lunch with Frankie <3 

Taking Frankie shopping to get news boots <3 

Borrowing Frankies truck <3 

No hearts beside Bennys name, Santis, Wills, or even Marcus’. He keeps flipping through the disheveled pages until he finds himself at the end of the book where the note pages are. “Fuuuck me.” Comes out of his mouth quietly as his whole world begins to spin, seeing a daily checklist you wrote out for yourself.  

Getting through the day, one step at a time. 

drink your water  

eat one vegetable, spinach dip doesn’t count 

do your morning Pilates, even though you hate it 

talk to Frankie <3 

He drops the book ceremoniously for the others to peer over and read as well. A grin spreads across Wills face as he pats Frankie's shoulder. “Alright man, no more excuses. What are you gonna do now?”  

Staring straight ahead with a sense of determination and wonder Frankie mutters, “I’m gonna go get my girl.” 

“Yeah!” Benny sounds as the others clap along and smile with Frankie.  

He thinks for a second, “Shit, did she say where she’s going?” he asks in a panic. 

Santi’s eyebrows pop up, “Oh, check todays date in the planner.” He says, pointing back to the book, seemingly the solution to all their problems that night.  

Frankie points his finger at his friend to acknowledge his good idea before grabbing the weathered book back into his hands and flitting through the pages to today’s date. He scans the week to Thursday and taps the page when he finds the notation. “9pm drinks with Sean, The Green Door.” He smirks to himself at the notice of no heart once again.  

“Green Door? That’s over on Park Street, right?” Benny asks. 

Will nods, “Yeah like a 5-minute drive, you better get going man.”  

Letting a deep breath out Frankie blinks quickly, “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Okay.” He pushes past Santi in the booth and quickly pats his pockets to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. “Okay, I uh, I guess here I go.”  

“Go get her Fish!” Santi calls as Frankie begins to step away. Before Frankie suddenly finds himself turning in his spot and standing desperately back at the booth. 

“What the fuck am I supposed to say?” He asks with eyes wild.  

Benny scoffs, “Just say whatever you’ve been practicing in your head for the last 6 years and I’m sure it will be fine. Now go or I’ll kick your ass!” He swats at him playfully.  

With that Frankie gives them one last look of gratitude and jogs out the bar towards his truck, throwing it in gear and peeling out of the parking lot as quickly as the law will let him.  

After leaving work, you stop at a gas station to fill your tank. Standing at the pump you lean against the cool metal of your car and sigh. This new chapter of your life was daunting to say the least, no matter how optimistic you tried to feel about it, no matter how many fake smiles you had to put on for your sister, no matter how many cute guys messaged you on the app. You hear the click of the full tank signal and finish up, sliding back into your car and putting on some Taylor Swift to hopefully boost your mood on the drive over.  

Stepping out of your car, you look up at the neon sign above the green door. Sean had texted you on the drive over that he was there and grabbed a quiet table at the back. You smooth out your sundress to make sure it’s not sticking to the back of your thighs, thank you humidity and leather seats for that, and make your way over to the entrance.  

You hear the sound of a vehicle door slamming shut heavily and then the sound of boots sprinting against the pavement just as you are about to pull at the handle.  

“Skip wait!” 

Turning you look back and see none other than Frankie jogging up the sidewalk towards you nearly out of breath.  

“Frankie? What are you doing here?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed as you peer over his shoulder to see if he is alone.  

Stopping in front of you he tries to catch his breath, “You can’t, - you, - you can’t go on this date.” He stutters out, trying to pull his shoulders square as he calms himself down.  

Feeling utterly bewildered by his statement you ask, “Why not?” 

He takes a deep breath and stares down directly into your soul. “You can’t because, well, I’m in love with you.”  

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your face and your breath hitches, unable to speak.  

He continues, noticing your shock. “I know, I know. This is probably not something you expected, because I’ve done my best to keep it locked away while you were with Marcus, and I was with Liv. But you’re not with him anymore, and I was never in love with Liv. I couldn’t have been, not when you were already taking up so much room in my heart. My heart is split right down the middle. It’s Camila, and it’s you. Has been for years now, there’s just no room for anyone else right now.” Gesturing to the green door beside you he continues. “This guy, I’m sure he’s nice or whatever, but I know you. I know you better than I know myself and I just, I love you. I do, and I’m not a hundred percent sure what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, but I just need you to know, before you meet someone else. Before I miss that damn window of opportunity.” 

Taking a big gulp of air he finishes, looking down and embarrassed at his confession, fearing to look you in the eyes and see nothing but pity.  

“Frankie.” You whisper.  

He looks up to meet your gaze, and his heart thumps harder in his chest when he sees the tears welling up in your eyes and the way you have to bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from breaking into the biggest smile he’s ever seen.  

Clearing your throat, you find the courage to speak. “I love you too Frankie.” You say, finally allowing the smile to crack your cheeks.  

Frankie's grins goofily and his eyes light up, “Really? Since when?” 

Shrugging you admit, “Since I fell out of love with Marcus. So, years ago.”  

“Huh, never thought I’d want to thank that son a bitch for being such a useless boyfriend.” He jokes.  

You giggle and nod before noticing his face has suddenly changed into something of longing and he inches closer to you.  

Bringing his hands to your warm arms, he slides them up and down and looks down earnestly at you. “Can I kiss you baby?” he whispers.  

Looking into his deep brown eyes you part your lips and nod, “Yes, Frankie, please. I’ve waited too long for this.”  

He slowly leans down, his hands trailing up your arms to cup your face before gently pressing his lips to yours. His lips are plush and soft and move with such care. You bring your hands to his back and pull him slightly closer. He grins before encapsulating your mouth again in a seething kiss, poking his tongue through your teeth to lick into you. A moan vibrates through your throat.  

Before you can really get out of hand, a sound of “Whoops” and cheers sounds from the parking lot beside you and you both break to turn to look at the commotion. A large black truck with Will, Benny and Santi hanging out of the windows and sunroof with devilish grins on their faces is what your shocked and embarrassed faces are met with.  

“Oh gosh.” You laugh to yourself as you turn your body into Frankie's, he instinctively pulls you in close and wraps an arm around your back to shield you from the eyes of your obnoxious friends.  

“Seriously guys? Can’t you let me do anything on my own?” He calls over to them with his free hand raised. 

Santi laughs and retorts, “Had to make sure you didn’t bitch out man! Looks like we came at the right time though otherwise we would’ve been picking you two up from the jail for public indecency.”  

Will and Benny laugh before Benny calls out, “Alright guys, I think we’ve embarrassed them enough. We’re going back to my place for pizza if you two love birds wanna join.” 

You peel your face off Frankie's warm and firm chest and shrug, “I could go for some pizza.” 

He smiles and nods, before taking your chin in his fingers and pulling you closer for one more sweet kiss. “Sounds good to me, I’ll meet you there, okay?” he says once he has sufficiently sucked the smile off your face. 

“Okay.” You say and break apart from his hold. He swiftly takes your hand and walks you to your car, opening and closing the door behind you with a boyish smile on his face.  

You settle into your car and watch him as his tight little butt saunters over to his truck. You bite your lip before pulling out your phone and bringing up your messages. 

Sean: Hey just checking if you’re alright. 

You: Hey, I’m so sorry, I’m gonna have to cancel. Something came up, and I don’t think it’s gonna work out between us. It was nice chatting with you. Have a good night.  

Your phone pings before you put it back in your purse, you’re expecting it to be a disappointing text from Sean, but your eyes light up when you see the name on the notification.  

Frankie: *photo of the checklist in your day planner* 

Getting through the day, one step at a time. 

drink your water 

eat one vegetable, spinach dip doesn’t count 

do your morning Pilates, even though you hate it 

talk to Frankie <3   kiss Frankie <3  

Check! 

young and happy Joel Miller appreciation post 🥹💖

I’m pretty stoned and this is a list of Pedro characters I delusionally think I could pull if the circumstances were right; please hold all questions until the end of the presentation.

36 year old Joel Miller- I’m thinking meet cute in a coffee shop or our kids are on the same soccer team.

Frankie Morales- friends to lovers or random meeting at a bar.

Dieter Bravo- seems like a chill dude, think we could vibe and he doesn’t seem snobby. Met through mutual friends.

Marcus Moreno- never seen this movie but he seems wholesome and doesn’t think he needs like a supermodel. On the PTA together (hot)

Ezra- not his best look tbh (still fine, just not 46 y/o Joel), so I think we’d be pretty solid 7/10s together. Idk where you meet a man like that.

Pre-beard Marcus Pike- in a work setting we just fall in love talking about printer cartridges you know.

Eddie- he’s a cutie pie, I’m a cutie pie. Meet in college like Buffy.

Clint- might be down for a girl with daddy issues. Probably met buying smokes at the convenience store.

In conclusion, get it girl.

Andddd the Javier Peña saga continues 🤠

PEDRO PASCAL & JOSEPH QUINN in a new still of 'GLADIATOR II' via Filmstarts