hi, yes, is this thing on? hola! i’m mika and i’ve been making masterlists for some characters pedro has played over the years!
the idea behind making these masterlists is that (hopefully!) more people can read old works (some of us are new to the pedro party, alright? be nice to us! #tpwk lmao) and also new works (as i update it!) ✨
i’m gonna be doing a big update these next few days/weeks, so! if you wanna put a smile to my face and be part of the masterlists you can fill aform that’s linked on my tumblr bio or send me a message!
last but not least! if you check the masterlists r e m e m b e r to REBLOG and maybe reply too, ya know? that’s also nice the original posts bc these people are blessing us with their writing for f r e e!!! likes are nice and all but they don’t get writings anywhere really! having a lot of notes is cool and whatnot but actually reblogging something is ✨ so yeah be the real mvp and reblog the author’s works bye!
Summary; He’s so comfortable, so warm and soft to sleep on, it would be easy just to nap on him Word Count; ~3.5k Content And Warnings:this is straight filth. consensual somnophilia, size kink, spit kink, dirty talk, fantasies of free use, cumplay, cum eating, oral sex, squirting, Frankie is a filthyfucker in this. If I’ve missed anything please let me know! Authors Note; …. this got away from me. I have no excuse, except that if I’m going to hell I’m taking all of you with me.
This work contains explicit adult content and is intended for audiences over the age of eighteen. By continuing to read you agree that you are 18 or older, have read the content and warnings and wish to proceed
a/n: Hello! Because you all have been so sweet and patient waiting for me and because I still have a couple weeks of hiatus left, I thought I would pop in and drop a little token of my appreciation. It’s been a long time since I wrote about these two — I hope you enjoy! ❤️ note: no taglist because I’m posting this from mobile — my apologies and pictures from @heythere-mel❤️
—
“Nice little setup you got here.”
Frankie’s face peeps in between the opening of the dark sheets and you grin at the way his curls are slightly askew, at the slivers of grey highlighted around the corner of his jaw.
He looks around, taking in the nest of blankets, the mound of pillows and you, with a smile.
Pairing:none, main focus in a father/daughter relationship.
warnings: horror, gore, disposal of dead bodies, cannibalism, foul language, talk of sexual assault, obsessive personalities, unhealthy relationships, NO INCEST
authors note: I had written this for my creative writing class because I had previously posted about Francisco’s connection to others that overpowers his own personal identity, plus i think he’s such a malleable character he can work in any genre, especially horror. I picked it to do revisions for my final and here is the finished product. big thank you to all who have listened to me ramble and helped with edits and suggestions about this story. It’s silly to say i havent really committed to writing something as much as I did this one in quite some time!
A/N: God, I just love these two. And Meana-beana. I dunno where the strength to finish this came from - I was just minding my business eating a mandarin so… yeah. Apologies for any mistakes, it’s late lmao.
Taglist note: I’ve used my MTW taglist but if you are no longer interested, just let me know and I’ll remove you from any future fics as this is an old list, some names have changed/don’t work, and new tag requests are not added so I’m sorry for that!
Summary: Mena and Frankie have an important question for you.
Word count: just over 1.8k
Warnings: swearing, MY FAVE BESTIES BENNY + ANGEL, fluff & domesticity galore, Frankie DILF™️ Morales. It’s just fluff. Fluff everywhere. I’m soft as fuck.
Something in the back of your mind flagged certain interactions, focusing on some things said in passing or the way people just simply acted around you. It was bugging you like crazy.
It started when Frankie started acting differently.
frankie x female reader (slightly no use of y/n or she/her pronouns just the word sister)
warnings: angst, language, tension, alcohol mention, mention of claustrophobia and slight description of anxiety, and language
summary: you moved away from your family and boyfriend at eighteen. when you come back home for your parents 50th anniversary you weren’t expecting a rekindling moment with a certain pilot.
authors note: THE ENDING IS EVERYTHING AND IM SO PROUD OF THIS FIC! PLEASE LMK WHAT YALL THINK XOXO
They say you’ll never forget your first. First crush, kiss, date, love and heartbreak. However for you, you could never seem to get rid of him. But you weren’t complaining. Francisco Morales was more than your first for everything, he was someone who held more than one could handle- he was your rock. Well that was until the day that “you” ruined everything.
Your parents were known as the sweethearts of your hometown. Marrying right after graduation, they settled in the same town and brought up you and your sister Em. Your parents were involved in everything, your mom being a teacher and your dad being a sheriff. It was hard to blend in to say the least. But there was an ongoing loop. Everyone graduated and stayed home. Your older sister, Em, even became a part of that treacherous loop. And you hated that loop. You always dreamed of big cities, fashion, traveling the world, but mostly just getting out of town. And you had promised yourself that nothing would hold you back from pursuing that. Sadly Frankie thought he could have kept you a little bit longer. But things change- actually a lot has changed since you’ve been back home for more than a weekend stay. Now you were traveling back home for your parent’s 50th anniversary extravaganza. And nothing could help prepare you for the next few days.
Your plane had landed around one in the afternoon. Grabbing your luggage you made your way over to the area where Em said she would pick you up. Looking around you didn;t see her red car. Dialing her number you were ready to direct her to your terminal.
“Hello?” Em said on the other line. She sounded groggy and as if she wasn’t in the car.
“Terminal 47 remember.” You said angrily, Knowing she forgot.
“Shit.” She said, then another voice was heard.
“Babe what time is it?” You gasped at the sound of Pope’s voice.
“Hold on, you first forgot your little sister’s arrival at the airport, and you have Pope in your bed Em! When did he come back? What happened to independency?” You said rather loudly into the mic.
“Shut up. You’re too damn loud.”
“It’s literally tourist season, getting a cab into town will cost me tripple Em.”
“Well don’t call the Millers, they went fishing this morning. You could call-” She said even more groggily. But you hung up the phone before she could finish her sentence.
You couldn’t take your sister right now. You love her most times but she would’ve killed you if you did this to her. You were gonna call the Millers but if they were busy there was only one person you could call. Hearing the phone ring you were ready to hang up. But then he answered.
Omg that’s was… absolutely stunning… it gave me a little Italy Kinda vibe at the beginning though . This was just so cute… I just adore this so so much . That last line though Uggh I felt my heart melt… you melted my heart how mean (and by mean I mean nice… ) of you. How dare you make my heart melt. This is 100% going on Frankie’s FA when I update next. Hopefully it’s soonish…
@reblogingqueen thank you sm for your kind words☺️☺️little italy is one of my favorite movies and i can now see the parallels hahahaha. much love mwah
Summary: Signs!AU. It started off in the most bizarre of ways. Crop circles. You mean the bother of cleaning up someone’s stupid prank? But then the lights come—hundreds, thousands—floating menacingly above the cities. The panic starts to settle in. Full summary here…
Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader
Warnings: angst GALORE - like i’m not even kidding i cried sm, swearing, supernatural themes, thriller/horror, violence, guns, talk of death & suicide, a death i cried over, violence/injury towards an animal i also cried over, blood
Word count: just over 5.5k
A/N: Hi howdy hey. ok i was delayed and i have no excuse - i just got distracted watching suits baha. ANYWAY, here we go. Sadness everywhere. Enjoy. Also, the song playing (you’ll know when you get to the part) is Billie Holiday’s “I’ll Be Seeing You” because that’s a damn beautiful song.
It’s another fucking splinter in your fingers keeping your mind from spiralling, the pain of it just enough to help contain the budding hysteria building in your chest.
You ignore addressing the persistent sting of it, instead holding firm against the thick plank of wood as Frankie hammers harshly against it, nailing it into the window frame. The length of timber stretches across the glass window and stops the sun shining through the pane, blocking your view of the outside.
Only when he steps away with a carved frown of vigilance, gaze critically observing the other windows that you finally move to pinch at the small splinter, a brief wince flickering across your features before your thumb rubs along your skin. The hammer picks up again, and your attention is pulled to him, eyes following the sweat that beads along the back of his neck and soaks into the collar of his shirt.
The drill had died a few windows ago, and Frankie hadn’t bothered to waste time charging the battery. He’d moved so quickly, so ruthlessly. You’d never seen this kind of expression before.
He’d torn his shed to pieces—your half restored dining table now rested legless and nailed over the back door. Chip’s kennel had been ripped apart, the various shades of red that used to be his vibrant roof now secured across the kitchen windows.
Nothing survived his mission: the coffee table Chip had chewed when he was a puppy, the old fence panelling, the scraps of tin from a long torn down workshop—it all came into the house, each memory filled item relentlessly nailed and screwed over any flicker of the outside world. Your home quickly lost its warmth with each boarded shut window, stripped of its feel of familiarity and comfort—security. Now it was the only thing in the way, one last layer of protection, of whatever was to come.
The echoes of Benny and Will moving about upstairs fill the silence beyond Frankie’s hammer, along with the light jingle of Chip’s contact tag rattling against his collar as he moves about the house in vague interest, his ears rising and dropping with each new scuffle of movement.
He soon retires from his curiosity, and instead comes to flop beside you with a long sigh, tail lightly slapping the hardwood when you bend to run a soothing hand through his fur.
“Upstairs is set. Although we ran out of wood in your bedroom, so that’s the weakest point. We’ve moved your bed in front of it.” Will says as he comes down the stairs with Benny following closely behind.
Frankie shoots them an appreciative smile. “Thank you… for helping us. You didn’t have to stay—”
The brothers reply in unison.
“Shut your stupid mouth—”
“Of course we did—”
It’s a small moment of normality, with smiles being shared so easily, and you cling to it even as they grab their bags and walk to their truck. Frankie appears from the remnants of his shed, carefully dumping a duffle bag in Will’s backseat and flipping it open to show the older Miller brother the few rifles Frankie had kept locked away.
Will immediately frowns at him. “The hell are you doing? We’re not taking those, you—”
“We’ll be locked up—you still need to get a four hour drive in. Chances are you’ll run into trouble before me, and I’d feel better knowing you’ve got the shit you need to make it safely.”
Will goes to argue, but sighs deeply knowing Frankie’s distinct stubbornness, and merely nods in thanks, stepping forward to embrace his friend tightly.
The sun starts to burn the back of your neck as you stand in the driveway and watch them, the gravel stabbing through the thin bottoms of your slippers as a distinct dryness claws at your throat, a bubble of a cry threatening to break free as the final few items are tossed in the bed of the truck.
Benny’s all smiles when he turns to you, but you see the stirrings of worry crease the edges of his expression. He swallows, bright eyes falling to the ground before his strong arms wind around you and tighten to the point you struggle to breathe. The thought hits you as soon as his face presses into your shoulder—
Is this the last time you’ll see them?
It has you returning the strength of his hug as much as you could, pressing as much love and gratitude for everything he’s done for both you and Frankie into the embrace.
Will soon takes his place as they swap over, his large hand cupping the back of your head affectionately and you can’t help the quiet sniff when he finally steps away a few moments later.
Benny’s eyes shine with the threat of tears but he stays firm, his jaw rolling to hold them in as he gazes at you both.
“I’m not sayin’ goodbye,” he mutters firmly after a moment of silence.
Will shares his sentiment with a quiet nod, cheeks straining with the effort of keeping the small smile curled on his lips.
“So…yeah.” Benny turns and gets into the truck, keeping his gaze stubbornly locked on the dashboard.
“Take care.” Will says, delivering one final affectionate slap to Frankie’s shoulder before walking around the truck and sliding into the driver’s seat. The engine roars to life and soon they’re pulling away.
“Are they going to make it to her in time?” You ask quietly, watching the dust swirl as the brothers disappear down the driveway, the squeal of their tyres hitting the asphalt of the highway only just reaching your ears as they speed away.
Frankie’s arm curls around your shoulders and you cuddle into him, pressing a warm kiss to his throat. His voice is strained when he answers, thick with emotion and your hold tightens.
“I hope so. Come on, let’s go and get the old man.”
——
You flutter through the door, barely taking a second to acknowledge Harry before you’re up the stairs, calling out questions about his prescriptions and where he keeps his overnight bag. Chip bounds up the stairs after you, Harry watching on with a fond, barely there little smile. Frankie crosses the threshold, stopping in his tracks when his eyes roll over the man.
Harry looks… polished.
There hadn’t been a single day Frankie had seen him out of dirty stained overalls, smeared with earth and sweat and paint and whatever else the man had busied himself with that day. His skin is clean of oil and dirt, his clothes are pressed and neat, he’s even wearing cologne.
“Nice suit, old man.” Frankie mutters finally, voice catching in his throat as Harry shuffles over to his recliner.
He smiles, his aged face wrinkling with the stretch of it, and something about the way it sits so naturally in his expression has a budding unease building in the pit of Frankie’s stomach. Something’s off. He pushes the feeling away, instead moving for the old jacket hanging on the coat hook and stepping towards him.
“They’re saying we’ve still got a bit of time, so I think we should get comfortable at our place now. We’ve barricaded the windows and the back door, I’ll nail up the front once we’re in.”
“You think it’ll hold?”
Frankie feels the twitch of a muscle by his mouth and Harry nods, sensing the wave of dread from across the room.
No he doesn’t think it’ll hold, but it was worth a try. Maybe if they saw the house all boarded up, they wouldn’t bother. It’s wishful thinking—if they’re as hell bent on invading as the so-called ‘experts’ said, a bit of wood wouldn’t stop them, but he didn’t dare say a word when you quietly suggested it.
“I’m not leaving, Frank.”
Frankie exhales sharply, fingers tightening around the coat. “Harry, don’t do this right now, alright? Just get up.”
He wasn’t hearing it—not today, not right now.
Harry had always been stubborn, and ninety nine point nine percent of the time Frankie found it endearing—often playing along with Harry’s sharp attitude with an easy smile and humour which seemingly melted the ice king into somewhat of a paternal figure over the years… but not today, with tensions running high and his nerves shot to the fucking roof. He just needed his family safe.
“No.” Harry says simply, resting his elbows on the arms of the recliner and overlapping his hands over his stomach. “I’ve made my decision, and I’d like you to respect it.”
Frankie snorts, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “And what decision is that, huh? You gonna stay here all by yourself and let whatever’s coming get to you? You gonna go down that easy, old man?”
“No. I’ll do it myself.”
“Dowhat?”
Harry’s gaze moves to the stairs, where echoes of you sound from where you move about, no doubt rifling through his medicine cabinet and packing away his usual medications. He didn’t want you around to hear this. Frankie watches him silently, teeth picking at the soft inner skin of his lower lip.
“I have no interest in living through this, Frank.”
Frankie frowns, a wave of shock rolling through his body. What does that even mean? He wantsto die? Where the hell is this coming from?
“Harry—”
“I’ve lived a damn good life, Frank.”
God no… no, please—
“Harry—”
“It’s alright, son.”
“No. She won’t leave you here. I won’t leave you here. Come on, this is stupid. We won’t let you do this.”
Harry heaves a soft sigh, lips curling softly. “This is what I want, Frank.”
“No. No, it’s not. You’re coming with us, and we’re gonna stay together, alright? You can give up—it’s fine. You can give up, but we’re not letting you die alone, okay? We’re not. Damn it, Harry, you can’t do this to me, to her—”
His knees hit the floor, and he pushes through the sudden feeling choking his throat. His fingers curl into the rough fabric of the chair, and he’s no longer fighting for himself, or Harry. It’s you. You’d spent more time with your neighbour, helping with appointments and medication and laundry and anything he ever needed—Harry was the world to you. You’d be devastatedleaving him behind.
He can’t let you go through this. He won’t. Not when everything already seems so bleak.
“Harry, please—please just…”
“Thisiswhat I want, Frank. I want to die on my own terms. Let me have my dignity. Please.”
“You shouldn’t be alone for this—”
Harry chuckles quietly, face so open and warm it creates such a sudden sense of home. A hand, rough and calloused and comforting, rests on Frankie’s hand and gives it a light, affectionate tap.
“I’m not alone, son.”
Frankie’s eyes fall to the vintage gold frame next to the recliner, taking in the aged black and white photograph and the young faces of Harry and Gloria huddled together under a shower of confetti. She had passed before you and Frankie had moved in, but there was no shortage of the stories Harry would tell you on the warm evenings on his porch.
“So this is it, huh?” Frankie swallows the thickness building in his throat, heaving a long, low sigh before moving his gaze back to meet Harry’s. “This is what you want?”
The man nods, and Frankie feels defeat creep along his shoulders.
“You’re gonna break her fucking heart, Harry.”
“I know.”
You appear then, Harry’s small overnight bag in hand. Frankie stands, and he can’t bear to look at you just yet. He keeps his eyes fixed on the old rug, taking a few deep breaths to calm the flood of anguish filling his system. Would you hate him after this?
“Are you ready?” You ask, a smile tugging at the edges of your lips. Harry stands, taking your outstretched hand and returning your small smile.
“I am, love.”
You smile at his words, but only Frankie understands what they truly mean. He tries to prepare; tries to get his thoughts and emotions in order before it happens and you’re left heartbroken and reeling. Would you even understand?
Harry pauses on the porch and you gently come to a stop when you feel the tug at your hand. You watch his eyes roll over the fields, thinking he just needed a few minutes to take it in before hiding away in your home.
“She would’ve loved you.” Harry says quietly after a few moments, and your eyes roll to meet his.
Gloria?Your brows twitch a little in confusion at his words, but you shoot him a little smile. “I’m sure I would’ve loved her, too.”
Harry hums, taking another moment of silence before speaking again. “Take care of my girl, Frank.”
Frankie appears at your side, jaw tight and dark eyes shining. “Yes, sir.”
Harry turns his attention to you, squeezing your hand softly. “And you take care of my boy.”
Your confusion grows. “Harry, I don’t understand—”
“It’s gonna be alright, love. You’ve got each other. Now off you go.”
“What? No, y—you’re coming with us.”
It’s obvious. Isn’t it obvious? Your frown deepens, your eyes darting to Frankie but he refuses to meet your gaze. What did he know that you didn’t? Your gaze flies back to Harry, anxiety starting to creep along your nerves.
“Youarecoming with us… right?”
“Not today, love. I’m staying here.”
“The hell you are—”
You don’t mean to raise your voice at him, but it’s just all so stupid. It’s fucking stupid. He should want to be safe. He should want to be with his loved ones. What was left? The invasion… it was happening, whether he wanted to address it or not. He couldn’t stay here, it was certain death—
Harry’s unwavering gaze hits you square in the chest. You feel like you’ve just taken a fist to the stomach. Your mouth opens, but you can’t seem to form a coherent sentence. You couldn’t just leave him here. Not to endure whatever was coming alone.
“Well… we’ll stay here then—”
He’s shaking his head before you even finish your sentence. “It’s my time, love. I’ve decided what I want to do. It’s alright.”
What he wants to do? What does that even mean?
“It’s not—”
“I’ve made my choice. I’m going to be with my sweetheart, you need to be with yours.”
“But I—”
You stop, finding yourself with nothing to say to change his mind. You look to Frankie for some help, silently begging him to say something, but deep down you know it wouldn’t matter. You couldn’t, and wouldn’t, force him. You didn’t want the last moments between you to be full of anger and resentment because you made him do something he didn’t want to do, because you ignored his wishes and made him die the way he didn’t want to.
A tremble overtakes your bottom lip, and you inhale to calm the threat of sobs building in your chest, carefully putting his bag down by his feet.
“Okay,” you whisper weakly, “okay. If this is really what you want.”
Harry nods, his rough hand squeezing yours one final time before he releases his grip. You let Frankie help you down the steps, your eyes unable to move from Harry where he stands watching you go with a small comforting smile.
You’re almost to the truck when you can’t help but break free from Frankie’s hold and run towards the house, quickly advancing up the steps and wrapping your arms tightly around your neighbour.
He returns it just as strongly, murmuring a quiet reassurance before he sends you on your way, waving one last time to Frankie. You don’t dare to look away from him as Frankie drives away, turning you head and watching him fade from view through the back window, and when you get home, you strain your eyes to look in the distance and find he’s no longer standing on his porch.
——
You refuse to call it a last meal.
Even while cooking, you refused to acknowledge the strange finality hanging in the air as you moved about the kitchen, preparing whatever dishes you could from ingredients found in the cupboards. Maybe it was just something your mind tried to distract you with, to keep your thoughts from running and focusing on the losses you had already suffered today.
Frankie sits opposite you, soft eyes rolling over each dish before speaking quietly, “I want to pray.”
Your eyes fly to his face in surprise. He’d never been into religion, apart from the Sundays his mother would take him to church when he was younger, so his quiet declaration was unexpected, but you quickly school your features before his gaze moves to yours, and you smile softly.
“Whatever you want, baby.”
He swallows, almost nervously, his tongue running along his lips before he reaches forward to take your hands. He feels so out of depth. He hadn’t prayed in years. Did this make him a hypocrite? To only turn to God when it’s too late?
He stays silent, lips pursing in thought.
“I’ve forgotten how these fucking things go.” He mutters, cheeks finally creasing with a grin when you giggle tiredly at his words.
“Well I don’t think that’sright.”
He’s quiet for another moment longer before his voice starts a quiet prayer, and you take a quick second to admire his face in the low candlelight while his eyes are closed. You follow the curve of his nose, trace the patches of dark facial hair running along his jaw, watch the way his soft lips move with each word and your heart grows heavy in your chest.
So beautiful.
You feel emotion bubble up in your throat as his words melt in your ears, asking whoever could possibly be looking down on humanity—if any—to ensure you were kept safe and unharmed, to spare you from any pain and suffering and to find peace no matter what happens.
Your fingers tighten around his. “What about you?”
One eye snaps open and focuses on you, “What about me?”
“I don’t want Heaven if you’re not there. Make sure He knows we’re a package deal. Chip, too.”
He snorts, eye closing and grin widening. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”
Your eyes finally close, and you sigh lightly. “Well it does with us.”
The food’s cold by the time you get around to eating it, but neither of you mind. Frankie keeps up most of the conversation as you pick at the food, keeping you present and focused on the now and not what’s coming. It feels almost normal. It feels like the world isn’t ending, even if only for a little while. You both ignore the dishes and the mess leftover, instead moving to the lounge room where the radio plays soft melodies.
The radio stations had long been abandoned, with everyone running to be with their loved ones, but they had set up playlists until it could no longer play. Loss of service would be the beginning, they had said. A part of you hopes the music will never stop.
“Can we… can we dance?”
It’s your watery eyes that have him nodding, his hand immediately reaching out to curl around yours. He tugs until you’re pressed against him, your face buried in his shirt and he breathes you in, eyes scrunching shut and devoting every sense to remembering the smell of you, the feelof you.
His lips trace whatever skin he can reach, his hands cradle and cup and roam. Long moments pass before he even remembers your request, and so he starts to sway, the muscles in his jaw straining as he fights the building lump in his throat.
“I should’ve danced with you more.” He whispers regretfully, cheek resting against the side of your head.
You shake your head, pulling gently away to gaze at him. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“I would.”
“No,” you shake your head again, smiling despite the tears that build along your lash line. “Everything was so perfect. I’m so—I’m so happy to have found you, Frankie. What we have… I’m so thankful.”
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He murmurs, sincerity ringing through his statement as a warm hand cradles your cheek softly.
A gentle heat washes along under your skin, and you turn into his touch with a soft chuckle, eyes fluttering closed as his rough thumb brushes softly over the skin under your eye, swiping away the lone tear you didn’t even know had fallen. Lips press against yours and you melt into his kiss, smiling against his lips.
“Ditto, Mr Morales.”
Static cuts through the air.
It’s an abrupt end to the soothing music that had just been filling the room, and he feels the way you shift, the way your breathing starts to accelerate and how you start to tremble in his hold. He hates that there’s nothing he can do.
“I’m here,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”
“God, I love you so fucking muchFrankie—”
“I know, baby. I know. I love you.”
A creak sounds from the front of the house, the usual quiet groan of the timber porch adjusting under body weight filling your ears like the thunder of a jet plane engine. Frankie’s head turns to the boarded up front door, his crushing hold keeping you tight up against him.
Your voice is shaky, and muffled against his shirt as your fingers dig into his chest. “They’re here.”
Chip confirms your words, the heckles along his back rising as takes a protective stance in front of you both, a series of sharp fierce barks tearing from his throat as a shadow passes by the slither of daylight peaking through the cracks in the barricaded window.
You jolt with a cry at the sudden gunfire.
Harry.
Bile builds in your throat but you swallow it down, chest heaving with the effort of fighting the sobs threatening to break free. Was that it? Was that him taking his decision into his own hands? You hate to think of your elderly neighbour ending his life, but maybe that’s better than waiting for whatever will happen…
It’s okay.
He’s gone. He won’t suffer anything now. He won’t suffer, he won’t—
Another shot.
Only this time, you can hearhim after it. He’s yelling, his hoarse aged voice filled with fury and melting through the walls and then you’re fighting for Frankie to release you, rushing to the door and resting your hands against the wood in desperation.
He’s out there.
Did he change his mind? Did he want to be with you both?
“Harry?!”
You know he can’t hear you, and yet you can’t help but call for him. Your hands bang against the wood, your fingers curl around the edge of the timber and pull, but the nails beaten into the edges hold firm. You’re incoherent, words falling in a mixture of confusing pleas as your head spins, your gaze anxiously flittering over anything you could use to pry the panel away.
“Frankie, we have to open the door!”
Another shot, and you can’t help the pained cry that joins it.
“Harry!”
You listen to him shout, tears slipping free from your eyes and sliding down your cheeks as his demands of whatever’s lurking around your house to leave you alone sound through the door.
“Frankie,come on—!”
He’s staring at the door when you quickly turn to him, to beg him to find the hammer and rip this stupid fucking barricade away so you could get to Harry and pull him in to safety, but he stays motionless. A single tear falls, followed by another, and then another, and yet he still doesn’t fucking move.
His gaze flickers to meet yours, and you see the swirling quiet apology filling his eyes behind the hard determined edge to his expression.
No he won’t open the door.
As much as something in him screams at him to run to Harry’s aid, he refuses to gamble with your life; refuses to have you potentially torn away from him with no hope of return. He didn’t know how many… thingswere waiting outside the walls.
He runs it all through his mind, calculating every hypothetical situation with trained efficiency.
He knows where Harry is from where he had heard his voice, he knows how quickly he could get to him without anything in his way… but then what would happen to you? To Chip? Chip would undoubtedly follow him right into the thick of it. You would too, even if he begged you to stay behind… and then where would that leave you all? Out there, in the open with no cover or safety, for them to pick off as they pleased.
No.
It’s not happening.
You barely even realise how deathly silent it’s gotten. You still pound at the timber, still scream for Harry and beg for Frankie to open the door. Why won’t he open the door? Harry’s out there. Harry’s out there, and he’s alone, probably terrified—
A warm body presses into your back, Frankie’s rough hands winding around your wrists to gently bring your hands to a stop. Lips press softly against your temple, his voice quiet against your skin.
“He’s gone.”
“No—”
“He’s gone.” He repeats firmly, softly moving your hands away from the door until they’re cradled against your chest.
You don’t get a chance to mourn, to grieve. They come back. They scratch against the door and it’s almost taunting. They circle the house, they bang against the windows, and Chip doesn’t know which way to face, where to direct his attention. Frankie moves you back away from the door, his eyes hard and jaw set as the banging gets louder.
“They’re… they’re just making noise.” You whisper shakily. Why aren’t they trying to break in? Where’s the force?
He doesn’t reply, but he knows what they’re doing. He’s played these games before, worked these strategies. One team to distract, one team to infiltrate. He turns his attention to any noises behind the random banging, catching the faint hint of scratching of something above.
“They’re on the roof.”
You nod, seemingly in a daze, and turn in his arms. “Okay. It’s okay. I love you. Frankie, please look at me.”
He does immediately.
“I love you.”
He swallows, staring into your watery eyes and tracing your cheek tenderly with the back of his hand. “I love you.”
“At least we’re together.” You murmur, tears finally falling. He doesn’t have the strength to talk, but he nods in agreement. He’s happy you’re here, happy that you both came back together in time and that you weren’t somewhere alone for this.
Glass smashes on the upper floor, followed by the sudden weight of something hitting the floor and Frankie whips around to face the stairs, keeping you shielded behind him. They’re in the house. They’re in the fucking house—
Chip loses his nerve and starts to whine, backing up uneasily from the stairs. He hears your quiet whimper, feels the way your fingers grasp and tighten at the back of his shirt. He works his jaw as he strains his ears to listen to the muted thuds above you, eyes watching the stairwell and waiting, waiting for whoever—or whatever—will come down.
Was this really how he goes?
Was this really how he lets yougo?
No.
He whirls away from the stairs and grabs your hand, whistling sharply for Chip to follow, pulling and shoving you through the kitchen until you’re in the pitch-black stairwell of the basement. He urges you down the steps, waiting until Chip slips through behind him before slamming the door shut and bracing himself against it.
“Baby, what—”
“I’m not dying. Not today. We’re not—” he’s muttering and you can barely hear him over the sound of your heart thundering away in your chest, “no. I’m not ready. I’m not—I’m not ready. I don’t want to go.”
He’s trembling as he holds onto the door handle, and you move forward until your face presses into his back. You wind your arms around him and shush him gently, “It’s okay. It’s okay,baby.”
“No, no it’s not. I’m not ready. I haven’t asked you to marry me. I haven’t… god, there’s still so much I want to—fuck!”
And then the door’s shaking and Frankie’s bearing down on the ground, holding tightly onto the door handle and pushing against it to keep it closed with everything he has. The abnormal clicking sounds through the only thing keeping you separated from them and you run your hands desperately over the dusty shelving trying to find something to help as Frankie grunts behind you.
Chair. There’s a busted chair down here somewhere—
Your ankles hit something laying on the ground and you quickly grab it, dragging it over to the door and letting Frankie jam the back of it hard up under the door handle. The door rattles, the force behind it increasing with their urge to get through, but it stays firmly shut and you both exhale in relief. You find the torch that you had just passed over, flicking it on and giving it a little shake when the old battery struggles to light the bulb.
“Are you okay?” Frankie asks after a moment, dark eyes locked on the door as the banging lessons until it’s just a random thud every now and then. They’re doing it again.
“Yeah. Are you?”
He ignores your question. “When we moved in, did the realtor say anything about external access to the basement?”
“Uh, I think—”
“Where?”
You swallow as his hard eyes fix on you. “There’s a coal chute. The previous owners blocked it up, though.”
“Where?”
You lead him around the shelving and shine the torch towards the far wall, the bright beam running along the aged brick until it suddenly bathes Chip in light. His tongue lolls out of his mouth when he sees he’s got both Frankie and yours attention, his tail picking up an excited little wag. The chute was right behind him, a soft breeze playing through the grate and gently rustling his fur.
“Frankie—”
Chip‘s startled yelp fills the basement as a hand materialises out of nowhere and wraps around him tightly.
You scream for him, dropping the torch to the floor as both you and Frankie rush forward. You wrap your hands around Chip’s body, pulling against the hold around his neck with a sob. You dig your nails into the unnatural leathery feel of it, the pained hiss from behind the grate your only warning before it moves wildly for you.
You fall back just out of reach and quickly drag the solid weight of Chip with you, the soles of your shoes slipping with your hasty shuffles backwards in an effort to move away from the chute.
Frankie appears from the side and aims a harsh foot at the flailing arm, his grunt and the distinct sound of breaking bones filling the barely lit basement before the heavy slide of metal grating along the ground claws at your ears.
You don’t stop moving until you’re bathed in torchlight, not quite ready to stand and retrieve it as your heart beats wildly in your chest. You inhale and exhale deeply, burying your face in Chip’s fur and cradling him tightly as Frankie works away in the darkness, ensuring whatever he had slid in front of the chute held up.
It’s when you smooth a tender hand down the underside of Chip’s jaw, running along the softness of his throat do you notice it. Your hand feels wet, warm, and you shakily bring it into view, face falling at the bright red that coats your skin.
“Oh god, Frankie—h-he’s bleeding.”
Your words bring him to you immediately.
“Hey bud, you did so good.” Frankie coos hoarsely, dropping to his knees in front of you with a sharp exhale and moving to kiss the space between Chip’s eyes. “Good boy, it’s alright, let me see—”
His fingers pry between his fur, sweat beading and sliding down his temples while his chest heaves from the sudden burst of exertion. His blood rushes through his system, adrenaline firing along his nerves and he takes another deep breath to steady the slight shake in his hands. He finds the injury, his fingertips quickly soaking from the blood as it flows freely from the wound. It’s deep.
“Fuck. It’s—it’s okay. It’s fine. He’ll be fine.”
He tugs at the hem of his shirt, tearing a strip of cotton from it and pushing it to the wound, quietly encouraging you to put pressure against it. Chip whines softly, shifting in your arms but settling when you press kisses above his ears.
“I’ve got you, baby boy. It’s gonna be okay—we’re here.”
Frankie cups your jaw, Chip’s blood smearing along your skin, and he tilts your face until his forehead presses lightly against yours. “I love you.”
You breathe a gentle sigh of relief, eyes falling closed as his warm breath blows across your face. “I love you.”
——
I know I said June 1st I’ll stop using old lists but I prematurely deleted them so yoloo. New lists now in use lmao. Fill out this form if you want to join new lists xo
AN: No thoughts, only thots about meeting Frankie at a party you were reluctant to go to in the first place. There’s infidelity here - so if that’s not your jam no worries! Enjoy!
Pairing; Frankie Morales x f!reader
Warnings; Infidelity, (18+ no minors) piv sex (wrap it up), swearing, dirty talk, unhappy marriage - mentions of divorce.
Her lips were parted slightly, her eyes dilated and her pulse was almost visible on the delicate skin of her neck and the realization hit him like a sledgehammer.
My wife hasn’t looked at me like that in years.
“Sorry? I didn’t quite catch your name.” He instantly likes her voice and tries to imagine what she’d sound like in bed and for the first time in god knows how long he isn’t ashamed of himself.
“It’s Francisco - you can call me Frankie.” He shakes her hand, holds onto it probably longer than he should and he knows his dimple is staring her in the face with the way he’s smiling. “How do you know James?” He gives her a once over, almost subtly and he’s happy to see her fluster a tiny bit.
“Oh um - ha I actually don’t - I came with a friend. Maureen - do you know her?” She fiddles with her dress, smoothing it down with her plump lower lip between her teeth. It’s endearing and he wants nothing more than to pull her close - to nuzzle at the hollow of her throat but she looks at his hand when he takes a sip of his beer and the spell is broken. She sees it, he knows she does and there’s nothing he can say.
Fuck.
“Oh, I’m sorry - I didn’t realize.” She frowns a little staring at his wedding ring, more flustered than before but now it’s out of embarrassment and he feels cruel, like he’d led her on in some way.
“Yeah, that’s - sorry that’s-” He doesn’t know what to say to this lovely thing in front of him.
Technically, yes I’m married but my wife has been cheating on me for years, I just got the proof I needed a couple of days ago and I’m going to divorce her ass. Wanna fuck?
“There you are, have you seen my purse?” His wife came in right on cue and then he was alone with her, a swirl of a skirt left in the pretty woman’s wake - he sighed loudly, not that his wife commented on it - or even noticed for that matter. “There it is - oh look - your buddies are here! Why don’t you catch up with them?” She didn’t look at him as she said it - too busy fixing her lipstick and he knew then that her side piece was here.
He felt nothing.
“Sure honey.” He spoke the words to her back as she walked away from him - he couldn’t even remember when he stopped watching her go.
-
The heat was crawling up your body, warming the apples of your cheeks with embarrassment and your legs couldn’t carry you away fast enough. You moved through the crowd of people you didn’t know, winding through the little groups of them while scanning for Maureen, hoping to catch a glimpse of the red shirt she’d been wearing - relief washing over you when you finally saw her.
“Hey- where’d you get to?” She smiled big, looking for the drinks you were supposed to grab. “No drinks?”
“Sorry- There were a bunch of people waiting so I came back.” You did your best to smile through the lie. “I’ll try again in a few.”
If he’s not still standing there.
Your stomach dropped at the thought of running into him again, a groan threatening to claw its way out of your throat. Why did he have to be so handsome? Why did he have to be exactlyyour type? Tall and broad, with that cute dimple and those soft waves- marriedwaves.
Why did you flirt back?
This question annoyed you a bit, it burned brightly in the back of your mind while you tried - genuinely tried to listen to Maureen chatting about - well whatever the hell she was chatting about.
You saw his wife walk past the two of you then, a very pretty woman with gorgeously thick hair and Ruby red lips lost in conversation with a burly blond man, if he’d told her that you’d flirted then it would only make sense that she’d glance at you but mercifully she didn’t. Thank christ.
Maureen laughed and pulled you away from your thoughts, introducing you to a few of her friends from college and you busied yourself trying to remember their names, muddling through polite conversation while also counting the hours until she’d be ready to go. It wasn’t so bad though- they weren’t so bad. Her friends, while maybe a bit pretentious, were all in all nice enough and it wasn’t hard to find common interests with a few while she made her rounds until your bladder pulled you towards the bathroom.
The door to the powder room on the bottom floor was locked, in use. Goddamn it-
“There’s a bathroom just up the stairs and to the left-” One of the hosts saw you standing there and came to the rescue “-please feel free.” With a polite thank you, you climbed up further and further until the door was opening before you. The scene inside froze you in your tracks, it was the blond burly man and Francisco’s wife in the middle of a hook-up.
Your mouth gaped open for half a second before you shut the door - unsure if they’d heard you, unsure if they even cared.
Couldn’t even be bothered to lock the door???
You ran down the stairs as quickly as you could, almost crashing into the person just coming out of the powder room and after a nervous shuffle from both of you, you were safely tucked away in the enclosed space. After relieving yourself, and splashing your face with cool water came the time to rejoin the fray - maybe if you could make eye contact with Maureen, she would see the discomfort on your face but that was a dead end - she was nowhere to be found.
I need a cigarette.
-
He was standing alone on the porch of the house, taking in the cool night air and it seemed as though the Gods or the fates or whoever was responsible for the day was thoroughly enjoying your discomfort.
“Oh - hi.” He smiled his dimpled smile and it was almost too much - you didn’t know this man, you had no idea what was happening in their marriage but what you did know for sure was how fucking disrespectful it was of this woman to fuck another man while her husband was here. “You okay?” His head tilted, concerned, beautiful.
“Yeah. Sorry um - you wouldn’t happen to have a smoke would you?” Fingers crossed he’d say yes.
“No sorry - I quit a long time ago.”
Fuck me sideways, seriously.
“No worries.” You stood there, gawping at him as he leaned his hip against one side of the railings. His smile faded and a neutral realization took its place.
“Was it with a blond man?” His words were stones in your stomach, boulders being dropped from a great height.
“What?” You hoped against hope that he wouldn’t make you do this.
I shouldn’t have fucking come out here.
“It’s okay - it wouldn’t be the first time. It’s funny - I didn’t want to divorce her until I had the proof and I got it a couple of days ago.” He sighed big but it didn’t seem sad or heartbroken. “I’m not naive, it’s nothing new.”
“I’m sorry - I don’t know what to say. Are you going to confront them?” The idea of him storming upstairs and pulling them out of the bathroom for everyone to see made your skin crawl with anxiety.
“Oh no, nothing so dramatic as that, I don’t care to - haven’t cared in a long time.” He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just please don’t look at me like that.” You frowned.
“Like what?” It was your head that tilted now.
“Like you pity me - I’m okay, in a couple of days I’ll serve her with the papers and it’ll be done. For now I’d much rather you looked at me the way you did before you knew I was married.” He straightened as he spoke - taking a few slow steps towards you.
“And how did I look at you before?” He was so tall, so broad and handsome.
“You looked at me, like you wanted me.” He watched your mouth, licking his bottom lip as he spoke and suddenly it was too hot - your skin was too warm and your tongue followed the example set by him and swiping along your bottom lip.
-
His grip is almost bruising, but his hands are so much softer than you would have thought and after a harder thrust one of them is sliding under your bra to hold the weight of your breast.
“You feel so fucking good.” His voice is hoarse, the words clipped as he groans them into your ear. The plush swell of your ass is pressed up tight against his groin, his cock punching up into you in the back of his truck.
I am letting a married man fuck me in the back of his truck, in a suburban neighbourhood.
The thought bleeds out of your brain with every snap of his hips, with every swirl of his fingers on your swollen clit. Your slick is dripping out around him, soaking the panties he roughly pulled down to fill your aching cunt. His cock sliding in so easily with how aroused you are and it takes everything not to scream out from how good it feels.
“Feel how fucking hard you made me baby.” He picks up speed, pushing the air out of your lungs with the force of it - your eyes roll back - mouth a wordless ‘O’ as he steals the thoughts out of your head with the slip of his cock and the swirl of his fingers. “Talk to me baby- tell me it feels good.” He pulls you up, his hand moving up to cradle your jaw and bring you towards him in a misaligned kiss. All tongues and pants as he doubles down on his efforts to pull you apart.
“It’s good - god it’s so fucking good.” Your words are almost slurred and he lets out a breathless laugh before he bites at your ear.
You’re racing towards your orgasm, the tingle of it spreading from your center out through your limbs and when he pinches your clit between his two wet fingers you fall off the cliff. Euphoria burns through your veins, cunt clenching around him hard enough to make him groan from deep in his throat.
“Where do you want it?” He grits it out through mashed teeth and you pull away, bending forward as best you can.
“On my ass.” You pull your dress up past your hips, displaying yourself for him shamelessly.
“Fuck-”He sounds pained and you can’t help but look back as best you can, the pain in your neck is worth the vision of him, his eyes down watching as he pumps his cock against your ass. One of his hands gripping you and with a shuddering moan he paints you in himself. “Jesus baby- fuck that’s pretty.” He rubs the sensitive tip through the mess on your skin before finally finding a tissue and wiping most of it away.
The cab is steamy when you exit, your hair a mess, his shirt untucked but both of you giddy with post orgasmic bliss - wordlessly parting to join the party but not before saving your number in his phone.
After the blood has cooled and it’s time to go, he catches your eye at the door with a wink and a promise and as you walk out with Maureen you hope he’ll call soon.
Summary: Signs!AU. It started off in the most bizarre of ways. Crop circles. You mean the bother of cleaning up someone’s stupid prank? But then the lights come—hundreds, thousands—floating menacingly above the cities. The panic starts to settle in. Full summary here…
Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader
Warnings: angst GALORE - like i’m not even kidding i cried sm, swearing, supernatural themes, thriller/horror, violence, guns, talk of death & suicide, a death i cried over, violence/injury towards an animal i also cried over, blood
Word count: just over 5.5k
A/N: Hi howdy hey. ok i was delayed and i have no excuse - i just got distracted watching suits baha. ANYWAY, here we go. Sadness everywhere. Enjoy. Also, the song playing (you’ll know when you get to the part) is Billie Holiday’s “I’ll Be Seeing You” because that’s a damn beautiful song.
It’s another fucking splinter in your fingers keeping your mind from spiralling, the pain of it just enough to help contain the budding hysteria building in your chest.
You ignore addressing the persistent sting of it, instead holding firm against the thick plank of wood as Frankie hammers harshly against it, nailing it into the window frame. The length of timber stretches across the glass window and stops the sun shining through the pane, blocking your view of the outside.
Only when he steps away with a carved frown of vigilance, gaze critically observing the other windows that you finally move to pinch at the small splinter, a brief wince flickering across your features before your thumb rubs along your skin. The hammer picks up again, and your attention is pulled to him, eyes following the sweat that beads along the back of his neck and soaks into the collar of his shirt.
if you don’t reblog this it’s all good, but r e m e m b e r to REBLOG andmaybe reply too, ya know? that’s also nice the original posts bc these people are blessing us with their writing for f r e e!!! likes are nice and all but they don’t get writings anywhere really! having a lot of notes is cool and whatnot but actuallyreblogging something is ✨ so yeah be the real mvp and reblog the author’s works bye!
*if your stuff isn’t here: it’s not you, it’s me! i’m a lazy ass! and also i couldn’t keep up with the amount of works being posted if you would like to be added pls just message me orfill this form! i know adding absolutely everyone is impossible at this point, but i’d love to add as many people as possible, i mean it
hi, yes, is this thing on? hola! i’m mika and i’ve been making masterlists for some characters pedro has played over the years!
the idea behind making these masterlists is that (hopefully!) more people can read old works (some of us are new to the pedro party, alright? be nice to us! #tpwk lmao) and also new works (as i update it!) ✨
i’m gonna be doing a big update these next few days/weeks, so! if you wanna put a smile to my face and be part of the masterlists you can fill aform that’s linked on my tumblr bio or send me a message!
last but not least! if you check the masterlists r e m e m b e r to REBLOG and maybe reply too, ya know? that’s also nice the original posts bc these people are blessing us with their writing for f r e e!!! likes are nice and all but they don’t get writings anywhere really! having a lot of notes is cool and whatnot but actually reblogging something is ✨ so yeah be the real mvp and reblog the author’s works bye!
This was an ask I sent to @forever-rogue back in 2020 and couldn’t find it in the archives to reblog but I love her responses so much! My question was based on a real event in my life because I am a saucy minx gifs are my addition.
——————
What would each character do if you had always been just friends but you were having movie night together and you went to change into “comfy” clothing or pajamas but came back out nonchalantly in a pretty chemise?
Javi ~ you’d been…“just friends” for some time. Mostly just friends, but there had been a few….drunken, late night encounters. Which, of course, neither of you minded. There was always a lot of flirtatious teasing and all that jazz, so one night you decided to jump the ante. You were at his place, having a movie marathon, when you decided to…have a little fun. Excusing yourself to go to the bathroom, under the guise of changing into some pajamas you kept at his place. Instead, you quickly stripped off your clothing to reveal the lacy lingerie underneath. You walked back out, and Javi did such a double take he almost broke his neck. You walked over to him and he stared wordlessly at you. Is that more comfortable? he’d asked, but you insisted you’d be even more comfortable without it on. Javi pulled you into his lap and wasted no time in making you more comfortable.
Ezra ~ he’s a surprisingly shy and gentle man. He’d never expect you to pull a little stunt like that. You were at home together, the one you now shared as roommates, having a quiet night in. You were watching television and he was deeply engrossed in whatever he was reading this particular evening. You excused yourself, deciding to tempt fate, and he’d made a noncommittal sound, not even looking up from his book. You dashed into the bathroom and changed, hoping he would like the pretty chemise you had picked out. When you returned, you didn’t say anything, and neither did he…it actually took him a while to look up but when he did, his jaw dropped. Well aren’t you a sight, pretty little dove. You grinned at him and shrugged innocently before displaying it for him and walking over. He gave you an almost questioning look, as if he was asking if you were sure, if you gave him permission to touch you. But you just nodded and he took your hand, pulling you into his lap. I have an insurmountably long time for this, he drawled in your ear before finally kissing you.
Catfish ~ he’s lowkey, you’re lowkey, and that’s always worked for the two of you. You always valued the simple things in life, and how relaxed your friendship was, despite harboring feelings for him. But for some reason, you’d gotten a wicked idea when you’d spotted the pretty lace chemise at the store, and purchased it before you thought about it too much. But as you were at your house, relaxing after a long week, with snacks and binge watching some Netflix, you told him you had a surprise. He gave you a curious look, but didn’t question you as you disappeared into your bedroom, quickly changing into the lingerie. You hoped he would like it, or else you didn’t know how you’d recover. He had come into your room after you’d been gone for some time, breath hitching at the sight of you. Your cheeks flushed and you dropped your head, hoping it wasn’t too much. But he quickly chased away any of your doubts, when he came over and crashed his lips onto yours, kissing you like he had never kissed anyone before. You never worried about your decision after that.
Maxwell Lord ~ there’s not such as being friends with Maxwell. He doesn’t do friends. He has those that work for him, or those that provide some sort of service. You fell into the former, working as secretary for some time, so you knew all about him. One day, you came into the office to find an extravagant box sitting on your desk, without a note, but you knew it was from him. Your face felt like it was on fire as you realized that it was not just lingerie, but the most exquisite and expensive kind. Immediately knowing what to do, you had slipped it on and then wrapped up in a coat before going to his office. His dark eyes raked over you with a wicked smile on his face as you dropped the coat and revealed what was underneath. You had wondered when his attention would turn to you; you were more than happy your time had come.
Whiskey ~ he’s a gentleman, no mistaking it. He’d been having a big party at his place, guests were there all night, until it dwindled down to the two of you. You were good friends, always had been, but a part of you wondered if there was more…you hoped there was. So, you’d decided to find out on your own, pretending to help him clean his house, but instead had changed into the pretty little chemise you’d gotten. You walked back out and pretended to clean, not drawing any necessary attention to yourself. Jack’s eyes widened as he nervously started to stammer, refusing to look at you because he would never want to overstep or make you uncomfortable. You just giggled at him and walked over, grabbing his hand away from his face. This is for you, Jack, you all but whispered as he searched your eyes for permission. Once it was granted, he quickly took the opportunity, pulling you into his arms and kissing you with a deep, desperate desire.
Oberyn ~ he’s a man of wealth and taste, and sex. It’s true, we all know it. But you? You were a friend and hadn’t technically done anything with him, and he respected your boundaries, such as the amazing prince as he was. But after some time, you wanted…no, needed more. So you had gotten some fine silks, and had them fashioned into an even finer shift, the colors of his house, and donned it, surprising him in his bedchamber. He’d been deep in thought and you’d surprised him by your sudden entrance, but his dark eyes light up at the sight of you. He was in bed already, but sat up, gesturing for you to come over; you were top of him, straddling him, within moments. He wanted to kiss you desperately so, but stopped himself, never wanting to do anything without express content. You are positive? his voice was soft and gentle, causing a stirring in your belly, but you decided to answer him with a kiss of your own. You’d waited for your sweet prince long enough.
Taking requests peeps. Having a break from my current fics atm as I got toooo much going on with the wedding and it’s given me writer’s block!
HOWEVER!
I love to write so I’m taking requests for a few juicy one shots. Any fics you want me to expand on? Maybe just something a little fluffy? Or angsty? send em my way
Summary: Frankie was always the one who got away but when you learn that he’s retired from the army and has moved back home. Your life falls apart.
Relationships: Reader x Original ‘Male’ Character, Reader x Frankie Morales
Warnings: Like A03, I chose to give none. 18+
Your husband wasn’t a cruel man. But as time had gone on you’d come to learn he wasn’t a good one either.
Your life revolved around him. His wants and needs and never your own. But he supplied you with a safe, comfortable life and that’s all you could have really hoped for. You’d loved him once and you were sure he had to but as the years had passed childlessly, your once blossoming romance had fizzled into something sour. You knew he resented you for not giving him a child. Blamed you for it and you blamed yourself to a degree but as the months blended into years, you found you blamed yourself less and came to terms with the fact that your having kids wasn’t meant to be.
You’d imagined your life differently as a younger woman. You’d imagined it with a different man if you were being honest with yourself. You thought you’d met the one as a teenager but, like most childhood sweethearts, he got away. Francisco Morales. The man of your dreams had shipped out to the army as soon as he’d graduated and your relationship had lasted another year after that before you’d called it quits and broken the man’s heart. Something you’d regretted to this day and had never imagined you’d see him again. How wrong you’d turn out to be.
“Did you hear the news?” Your best friend Sally asked as the two of you browsed through the sale rail of your favourite clothing store.
Your obvious look of confusion was all the answer she needed to know that you were oblivious to the latest gossip to spread around town.
“Morales moved back.” She elaborated and your breath caught in your throat “Retired from the forces and decided to kick out the tenants renting his folk’s old place and moved in himself.” She finished, shrugging her shoulders as she pulled out a sweater she liked the look of.
“Oh.” Was your reply, suddenly completely disinterested in shopping anymore.
“Think you’ll see him?” She asked and this grabbed your full attention.
“Why would I see him?” You questioned, eliciting a snigger from your friend.
“We all know you never go over him.” She stated and you felt your heart start to race and your cheeks grow hot “Thought you’d be all over, seeing him.”
“I’m married, Sally.” You warned and she scoffed.
“Yeah to a man that barely looks at you and who’s definitely shagging his assistant.” She grumbled and you felt a sting at her last statement.
“You don’t know that.” You choke and her demeanour changed upon hearing the crack in your voice.
“I’m sorry babe.” She started as she threw a hand around your shoulder “I shouldn’t have said that but you deserve better than the life you have.”
“I’m fine.” You replied with a shrug “He keeps a roof over my head, clothes on my back and food in my belly. What more can I ask for?”
“Happiness?” She shrieks “Love, passion, excitement… to name a few. He’s an asshole and you need to leave him.”
“It’s not that easy Sally.” You snapped “Where would I go? I have no job, no money.”
“Your divorce would sort that out.”
“Sally-”
“You can’t keep living like this.” She interrupted, taking your hand in hers and boring into you with her serious gaze “Waiting to die or for him to leave you.”
“This is my life now.” You said, your tone defeated and your heart heavy “I’ve made my bed.”
Sally decided it was futile to argue any further. You weren’t going to accept that you deserved better and she was tired of trying to convince you of the fact. So you finished off your shopping trip and turned down her invites for drinks that evening at your once favourite watering hole.
No way Joe would let you go.
Despite having little interest in sharing any sort of physical relationship with you he hated the idea of you having a social life outside of him. So going out for drinks with your girlfriends was not something you were able to attend anymore. You were limited to shopping trips and coffee. How dull your life had become.
Walking through your front door and placing your sparse shopping bags down on the polished marble floor, you announced your arrival as you toed off your shoes and hung up your coat. Not expecting the arms that wrapped around your middle and or the lips that found your neck.
He did this sometimes. Showed a fleeting interest in you and you took what you could get. For all his faults he wasn’t a selfish lover.
He turned you in his arms and dropped to his knees before he pushed your underwear to one side and placed a teasing lick on your clit. You felt a jolt of pleasure surge through you and the moan that slipped past your lips was all the invitation your husband needed to continue. Credit where credit was due, he knew how to fuck with his tongue and it didn’t take him long to have you cumming. Your legs then gave out and you were in his arms as he threw you down on the couch and pulled out his throbbing erection for the confines of his slacks. His lips returned to your neck as he lowered himself between your open legs and once again pushed your underwear to the side. Your eyes locked for a moment and you thought you saw a flicker of love in his eyes. Something you’d not seen for what felt like an eternity but then he was pushing inside of you and you weren’t able to keep your eyes open then.
Sex with Joe was always good. Whether you wanted to admit it or not your husband could fuck but these sparse sessions only hurt more. You missed the way he used to worship the ground you walked on. How he’d not be able to get enough of you but then again, you were trying to get pregnant back then. This was now him looking for a release and that’s all you were to him now.
A release.
He fucked into you expertly and you were cumming again in no time at all, moaning loudly as he continued his assault on that spongy spot inside of you that had your toes curling. He hooked one of your legs around his waist and the new angle started to stir another orgasm down in your loins. It took half a dozen more thrusts for the two of you to cum together and leaving you a sated mess on your couch.
“What was that for?” You asked between laboured breaths and Joe shrugged before slipping out of you and pulling his slacks back up again.
“I’ve got to go away for work for a few days.” He stated simply “Should be back by Wednesday.”
“Oh.” You replied as you manoeuvred into a sitting position “Short notice.”
“Tell me about it.” He grumbled before grabbing the suitcase situated by the couch that you’d not noticed before “I’ll call you tomorrow.” He said, pecking your lips.
“You’re leaving now?” You asked as you followed him out to the lobby and watched as he slipped on some shoes and grabbed his keys.
“Need to or I’ll miss my flight.”
“Well, safe trip.” You said, receiving one last kiss before he disappeared out of the door and left you standing in the lobby.
You weren’t sure how long passed before you slipped out your phone and dialled the number at the top of your caller list.
“Sally.” You said simply as you let out a shaky breath “Count me in for tonight.”
…
“I’m so happy you’re here.” Squealed Sophia as she pulled you into a tight hug “What changed your mind?”
“Husband’s fucked off on a work trip.” You said as you downed another apple sour shot “So I thought I would spend my evening seeing my girls.” You finished as you woo'ed with your friends.
“It’s been too long.” Said Lacey as she placed a tray of drinks down on the table and handed you your triple gin and tonic.
“That it has.” You agreed as you took a sip of your drink.
…
Frankie hadn’t been in the mood for drinks but Benny was determined. So that’s how he’d found himself sitting in a bar he’d only ever walked past as a teenager. What made the situation worse was that he was designated drive which meant not even the buzz of alcohol was a possible distraction.
His reason for being in such a foul mood was the information he’d learned upon moving back. He’d only been back a few weeks but when at the supermarket the previous afternoon he’d bumped into your school best friend and he’d learned through her that you were married. He wasn’t sure why he was upset about it. You’d dumped him at the first sign of trouble but there had been a small part of him that had held out hope that there was still a chance for you both.
“Come on Fish.” Ben groaned “You need to cheer the fuck up dude.”
“Ben.” His older brother warned but Benny waved him off.
“I don’t know what’s got your knickers all knotted up but we’re out dude. We’re free from all that shit now.”
“I’m fine,” Frankie grumbled, his eyes drifting to a rowdy table across the bar.
He realised quickly that he knew the girls, they’d all been in your year at school and he was fairly sure that you were friends with them. Ho noted Sally, the one who’d told him just yesterday about your marital status and Sophia who’d been attached to your hip once. Movement in the corner of his eye then grabbed his attention and that’s when he saw you with a tray of drinks in hand. You were just as beautiful as the day he’d kissed you goodbye in the airport when he was 19. More so if that was even possible.
“She’s hot.” Ben teased, dragging the older man from his thoughts.
“She’s my ex.” Frankie grumbled, his attention returning to the one beer of the night he was able to drink.
“Shit, really?” Benny exclaimed and Frankie nodded “She’s smoking Fish., Is she single?”
“No.” He replied simply, his tone grabbing Will’s attention “She’d married.”
“Sound a little sour about that Catfish?” Will questioned, “Something still there?”
“She broke my heart twenty years ago.” He growled, “Nothing there Will.”
“Well, you got me convinced.” Benny snorted and Frankie felt his temper growing even shorter.
“Believe what you want.” He snapped as he pushed himself to his feet “I need a piss.”
He stormed off, leaving two amused Miller brothers in his wake. He hated how seeing you had stirred up all those feelings he’d thought he had buried all those years ago. He went to the bathroom, took a breather and left a few minutes later, only to collide with a soft body.
“Shit, I’m sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He said as shook his head and turned to look at the innocent person he’d just barged into.
“Frankie?” You questioned and his eyes grew wide as your name fell from his lips “Shit.” You said as you let out a shocked breath “Wow, how are you? You look… You look good.”
“You too.” He replied and he swore he saw you blush.
“How are you?” You asked again and he shrugged.
“Good as can be expected.” He replied and you nodded.
“I hear you’re married.” He said and your stomach twisted “Congrats.”
“We’ve been married a few years now.” You said, your face dropped “Nothing to congratulate.”
“You happy?” He asked and you were rendered speechless.
You’d never been able to lie to this man and twenty years on that was still that case. So all you could do was shrug and Frankie couldn’t help but frown at that.
“Looks like my party has made some new friends.” You said as your eyes drifted to your table, Frankie’s eyes following yours.
“Those would be my friends.” He sighed as he scraped a hand over his face.
“Guess we should make sure they’re not getting into trouble.”
“Sure.”
“Chica, look at these two dreamboats we met.” Screeched Sally as you made your way over to the table “This is Will and Benny… They’re brothers and -”
“Complete trouble.” Interrupted Frankie as he came to stop beside you.
“Francisco Morales… Fancy seeing you here.” Said Sally as she pulled him into a sideways hug “You know these two.”
“Sadly.” He replied with a smirk and Benny gave him the finger as your friends chuckled.
You all stayed together then. The girls cooed over the boys and you sat there awkwardly with Frankie as you watched. The conversation got more and more personal as more drink was consumed and you were glad you were drunk when you and Frank became the subject matters’.
“So Francisco.” Sally started as she sipped on her cocktail “No wife and kids to speak of?”
“Nope.” He replied, popping the 'p’ before sipping his soda.
“Don’t get him wrong.” Benny started and Frankie instantly cringed “This guy is the pussy king!” He gushed and you felt sick.
Of course, there had been others since you. It wasn’t like you were it for him and he was to remain alone for the rest of his life but to hear it out loud still stung.
“Shared a bunk with him for years and some of the women he managed to sneak back…”
“How’s married life?” Will asked, changing the subject when he noted both yours and Frankie’s uncomfortable demeanours “No kids?”
Your shoulders sank and your face dropped. Sally noticed it straight away and went to speak but you beat her to the punch, the alcohol giving you a false sense of confidence.
“We tried.” You said with a shrug, your posture changing completely “Never happened for us and now he despises me for it.” You finished with a false laugh and the whole table fell silent.
“I’m sorry,” Will said after a few tense moments of silence and you shrugged again.
“It wasn’t meant to be I guess.” You replied with a shrug, noting out of the corner of your eye how Frankie was looking at you with those sad brown eyes. The ones that let you to fall for him in the first place.
Frankie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It explained your reaction earlier when he’d asked if you were happy. He could see it now. How haunted you were and his heart broke for you. He’s always hoped that you’d end up happy. Sure he’d prayed it would be with him but as the years had gone on he had come to terms with the fact that it wouldn’t be.
A few more drinks were consumed before the night came to an end. Sally left with Will and Sophie with Ben who had left you alone with Frankie and stood on the sidewalk outside the bar in awkward silence.
“How are you getting home?” He asked as you fiddled with your hands.
“Well I have gotten a taxi with Sally but she’s gone home with your friend so… I guess I’ll get a cab on my own.” You chuckled nervously.
“I can give you a ride?” He suggested and you looked up at him with wide eyes “I was designated driver but guess I got ditched too.” She chuckled and that made you smile “I don’t like the idea of you getting a cab home alone. Please… let me give you a ride.”
“Sure.” You said after a few moments of silence and Frankie nodded, motioning for you to follow him as he lead you to his truck.
He opened the passenger door for you and helped you inside before closing it and making his way around to the driver’s side. Jumping in his was fast to start it up and peel away, driving you home with your quiet directions. It felt like it had all those decades ago. Him driving you somewhere quiet so you could steal perfect moments together before he had to get you home. You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at him every now and then as he drove you in stoic silence.
When he pulled up in front of your large house his eyes grew wide and you smirked at his reaction to your home. You sat there in tense silence for a few moments before you plucked up the courage to speak.
“Do you want to come in?” You asked, eyes hopeful as you looked at him.
“Are you sure?” He asked, smiling at the nervous nod you gave him.
He opened your door for you and followed silently as you led him to the front door, watching as you shakily pushed your key into the lock. Stepping inside he copied you as you toed off your shoes and before he followed you to a large, modern, kitchen that put his to shame.
“Drink?” You asked and he nodded “Just water’s fine.”
“Just water?” You chuckled “I have beer?”
“I shouldn’t.” He replied shyly “Got to drive and all that.”
“Sure… right, of course.” You said, shaking your head and grabbing a glass from the cupboard.
After pouring him the beverage from the fridge, you handed him the glass and went about pouring yourself a glass of wine. The silence that hung over you both then for a short while was suffocating. You’d not thought this far ahead. All you’d thought about was how you didn’t want him to leave just yet, you wanted him to stay just a little longer.
“So how long have you been married?” He asked, finally breaking the silence between you.
“6 years this August.” You replied, your eyes unconsciously drifting to the silver bands on your left hand.
“He a good guy?” He asked and you sighed, feeling your throat tighten.
“He was amazing at first.” You confessed, eyes drifting to the glass in your hands “But when we discovered we couldn’t have kids he got sour.”
“I’m sorry.” He said sadly as his eyes captured yours “You would have been an amazing mum.”
You let out a sad chuckle at that. You’d always liked to think you would be but as time had gone on you’d started to wonder how good a parent Joe would have been.
“I guess the universe thought differently.” You joked, eliciting a sympathetic smile from him “Just wasn’t meant to be I guess.”
“You can’t seriously believe that?” He asked and you sighed.
“Well I’ve not been blessed with children so to be the evidence is pretty conclusive.” You said with a shrug, trying hard to fight the tears that were threatening to spill.
Silence fell over the two of you again for a while as you sipped at your wine and him, his water. It felt oddly normal to have him there with you yet tense that you were standing in the kitchen of the house you share with your husband, with the man you knew you were still in love with.
“You know I always hoped you’d find happiness.” Frankie uttered after a little while “Despite you breaking my heart I always routed for you to have the best life possible.”
“I always wanted that for you too.” You stated and he scoffed at that “Did you not?”
“I killed people for a living for almost half my life.” He replied shortly “What do you think?”
You winced at his reply and he instantly regretted his tone “I had to do a lot of unforgivable things, all in the name of my country.” He confessed after a short pause “I don’t deserve a good life for what I’ve done.”
“You deserve the best life has to offer Frankie.” You said softly “I’ve always regretted ending things with you.” You sobbed “Truth be told you were the one man I could picture spending my life with and I let you go.”
“Why did you?” His question took you by surprise but you didn’t hesitate to answer it. He deserved the truth.
“Because the thought of losing you was too much to bear.” You confessed, “I thought if I broke it off, it would ease the pain of knowing you could die at any point but all it did was break my heart and leave me hollow.” You sobbed, not holding back the tears now “You were the love of my life and I lost you.”
Frankie could help what he did next. Knowing that you’d regretted breaking things off with him, selfishly, was all he’d ever wanted to hear. Grabbing the back of your head he pulled you into a biting kiss that made your toes curl and your core ache.
Before you knew it your underwear was pushed to one side and he was buried to the hilt, thrusting hard and deep as he swallowed your moans. Your nails dug into the muscles on his back, clinging on for dear life as he tore several orgasms out of you before succumbing to his own release and then he collapsed over you as he caught his breath, practically purring as you run your nails through his hair.
“Shit.” He breathed after a short while and you chuckled at his statement “That was…”
“Perfect?” You finished for him as you smiled down at him “We shouldn’t have done that but I’m having a hard time regretting it.” You confessed after a short pause, moaning when he pulled himself out of your heat and tucked himself into his jeans.
“I’m sorry.” He sighed as he scraped a hand over his face and you suddenly panicked at his change of demeanour.
“I should go.”
“No, please… Don’t-”
“I have to.” He interrupted as he grabbed his keys and made his way to the front door, you were hot on his heels “It was nice to see you again.” He said without looking at you and then he was out of the door and you were left there to sob over what had been the best thing to happen to you in years.
~
2 Months Later…
Your hands shook as you held that stick of plastic in your hand. You felt sick. How, after all those years of trying, were you now looking at the second positive pregnancy test you’d taken that afternoon.
How was this happening?
You slowly started to panic the longer you stared at it. It was a disaster and you didn’t even know where to start in terms of how to deal with it. You knew you had to tell your husband and you knew he was going to be excited but you also had to tell Frankie.
There was a chance it was his too.
Grabbing the tests and shoving them in your pocket you made your way to the front door and grabbed your keys and bag. Slipping your shoes on, you made your way to your car and, after taking a steadying breath you got in. Driving to Frankies, you were relieved to see that his truck was on the drive and after parking up behind it, you hopped out of the car and briskly walked to his front door.
It didn’t take him long to answer after you knocked but his shock at seeing you stook there made your stomach twist into painful knots.
“What are you doing here?” He asked and you thought you were going to cry at that alone.
Instead, you let out a steadying breath before you answered him.
“We need to talk.” You said firmly “Can I come in?”
He said nothing, just opened the door wider so that you could enter. You looked back when you heard the door slam behind you and then you made your way to his kitchen, sitting at his table, you waited for him to join you.
“What do you want to talk about?” He asked plainly and you felt your nerves come to a head. God, you could be sick.
“Well uh… I need to talk about that night.”
“Why?” He groaned “It was a mistake. You’re married. We need to move on.”
“Yeah well, I wish it were that simple.” You snapped and his expression changed.
“Why isn’t it?”
“Because I’m pregnant Francisco.” You growled, slamming the two positive tests on the table.
That stopped him dead in his tracks. He started at the two tests, both saying 6 - 7 weeks along. He’s regretted that night since it happened. Not because of what happened but because you had been drunk and he’d taken advantage of that. So now to see that from that night, he was facing the possibility of being a father, he regretted it even more.
“Is it mine or?…”
“Fifty per cent chance.” You confessed “But let’s be realistic. I try for five years to get pregnant with my husband and then I fuck you one time and bam… Baby.”
“What are you going to do?” He asked and you sighed “Are you…”
“Going to keep it?”
He nodded.
“Yes, I am going to keep it.” You scoffed “But I need to tell my husband I am pregnant and there’s only a fifty per cent chance it’s his.”
“Shit.” He breathed and you nodded in agreement.
“I only came here to tell you because you have a right to know.” You stated plainly “I don’t expect anything from you and if turns out to be yours well… You only have to be involved if you want to be.”
Frankie nodded. He was numb and completely at a loss for words. It was his lack of reaction that had you scoffing before you scooped up the tests and grabbed your bag, barely saying goodbye before you were out the door and halfway to your car.
When he realised you were gone, he ran out after you. Only to find he was too late and you were gone. He groaned in frustration at his reaction to your news. He’s just been so shocked by it. Seeing you at his door, that had not been what he’d expected when you’d said you needed to talk to him.
Now you were gone and he was completely lost.
…
At home, you’d just finished up the dishes when you’re husband had called to say he was going to be working late. So you started on dinner for yourself, something that he could reheat when he got home and then sat to watch TV whilst it cooked in the oven. Joe’s iPad lighting up a short while later caught your attention. It was unusual for him to leave it laying around and so you couldn’t help your curiosity. Noticing it was a text, you tapped on the notification and what you saw made you sick.
'Can’t wait for you to breed me later baby’
You read the first message and choked. It was, sure enough, from his secretary. What a fucking cliché.
'Make round with you baby J.’
Popped up another message a short while later.
You’d known deep down he was cheating. It was obvious. The late nights the secrecy. They had all been warning signs but to see it confirmed in writing hurt but that’s not what you were most angry about. No, you were angry that he was not fucking his assistant… but that he was trying to get her pregnant in the process. That made your blood boil. You may have slipped up but this was something completely different and you knew you had to leave.
Your bag was packed less than an hour later. You packed what you could into your car and you drove to the first place you could think of. Sally’s.
~
1 Month Later…
Frankie had been browsing the cereal aisle when he’d bumped into Sally. He’s desperately tried to sneak past but she had the eyes of a hawk and he was soon cornered by the Coco Pops.
“Haven’t seen you since that night out what… three months ago?” She asked and Frankie shrugged.
“About that yeah.” He confirmed, “How are you?”
“Oh, I’m fine.” She replied, “My girl on the other hand is a mess.” She stated and Frankie’s stomach sank “Girls 3 ½ months pregnant and in the middle of getting a divorce.”
“What?” He exclaimed, the last statement taking him by surprise “Why?”
“Fucker is shagging his assistant.” Sally revealed, “What’s worse if they’re trying for a kid together.” She continued “Well they were and then he found out she was pregnant and he’s been begging for her to forgive him.”
“Shit.”
“Turns out though that there’s a chance it’s not his.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” She said with a nod “Had a weak moment a few months back and well… Kid might be the other guys but apparently he doesn’t want anything to do with it so-”
“I never said that.” Frankie expelled, eyes widening at his sudden confession.
“Wait what?” She practically yelled “She didn’t tell me who the other guy was… It’s you??”
“We uh… The night we met up, I took her home and we got to talking and one thing led to another-”
A hand impacting his face was not what he’d expected to happen to him whilst doing his weekly shop that day yet here he was, rubbing his cheek as your best friend glowered at him.
“She’s in pieces.” She scorned “She’s all alone, pregnant with a baby that could be yours.”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to her its just… Well, I didn’t know what to say.”
“Say that you’ll support her.” She shrieked “You’re a better man than Joe, I know that for a fact so step up and take responsibility! It takes two people to make a baby.”
“Where’s she staying?” He asked, knowing she was right and that he had to make this right.
“Mine.” She stated “I’m going to be out this evening if you wanted to talk to her alone.
He nodded and she sighed "Please don’t hurt my friend Frankie.” She pleaded “She’s suffered enough.”
…
You hadn’t been expecting a knock at the door that night. Sally was out on a double date with Sophia and the Miller brothers. She’d asked if you wanted her to stay but the truth was you just wanted some time alone to grieve. Your life as you knew it was over and you were facing bringing a baby into the world without the love and support of the man you knew was its daddy. Without a shadow of a doubt, you were certain.
You stiffly walked to the front door, not thinking to check who it was before you pulled it open but when you saw it was Frankie standing there your eyes grew to the size of saucers.
“Frank?” You all but whispered, “What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk.” He replied, “If that’s okay?”
You nodded. Opened the door and motioned for him to come in before closing it behind him. You led him to the lounge, muted the TV and motioned for him to sit as you plonked yourself back on the couch.
“How are you?” He asked although he knew that answer already.
“My life’s falling apart.” You scoffed “How do you think?”
“I’m sorry.” He replied, instantly regretting his question “How’s the baby?” He asked after a short pause and you sighed as you rubbed your now slightly swollen belly.
“They’re okay. Had my first scan and they were pleased with its progress so that’s positive.” You replied and he nodded “Why have you come here, Francisco?”
“I want to be a father to this baby.” He stated simply “If it’s mine and you want that.”
“Frankie I-”
“I reacted like a complete idiot when you told me but I was shocked.” He confessed “The last thing I’d been expecting you to tell me was that you were pregnant but I saw Sally today and she literally slapped sense into me and I… Well, baby, I love you and I want us to be a family but if just being a father is all you’re willing to give me then that’s fine.”
“And if we are a family and it turns out that it isn’t yours?”
“Then I will love it anyway.”
That was all you needed to hear. Next thing you knew you were on his lap and kissing him like you needed it to breathe. Finally pulling away to breathe you looked him in the eye and you smiled.
“Take that as a yes then.” He stated before you laughed and kissed him again.
It was definitely a yes.
~
6 Months Later…
“Well, shit that’s a cute kid.” Said Ben as he propped his head on Sally’s shoulder.
“He’s beautiful.” Sally gushed as she looked up at you and Frankie laying on the hospital bed.
“How are you feeling hun?” Ben asked as he came to stand beside you and place a sweet kiss on your brow.
“Exhausted.” You confessed and he chuckled “But I wouldn’t have been able to do it without Fishcakes here.”
“I thought we were past the nicknames.” He grumbled and you all chuckled.
“I just pushed your eight-pound baby out my vagina and now have stitches to prove it.” You scoffed “I can call you what I like.”
“Touchê.” He conceded and you chuckled.
“Did you have a paternity test done?” Ben asked and you both nodded
“I mean it’s obvious who his father is but Joe was adamant that we get it done. He wasn’t a happy bunny when the news was broken.” You stated.
“No, he was not.” Agreed Frankie as he rubbed his still sore jaw.
“You got a name yet?” Sally asked and you both shared a look before nodding.
“Luka.” You said in unison and the others gasped.
“Luka Morales.” Ben said, testing the name on his tongue “It suits you, little buddy.” He said as Sally handed him the baby.
As watched your best friend and Frankie’s coo over your newborn, a sense of peace washed over you. In the months that had followed, you discovered what true happiness felt like. The love and adoration Frank had showered you with had led you to realise that your life with Joe had never been good.
“You okay?” Frankie asked, quiet enough that only you could hear him.
“Yeah.” You replied as you rested your head on your shoulder “Tired but so fucking happy.”
“Me too.” He replied, kissing you sweetly before pulling away to look you in the eyes again “Marry me?” He asked and tears started to form in your tired eyes.
Frank instantly panicked “Or not… It was just an idea but if you don’t-”
“Yes.” You interrupted and he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide and you both stared at each other.
“Yes?”
“Yes Francisco Morales… Love of my life and father of my child.” You started, smiling at him sweetly “I will marry you.”
He kissed you deeply, stealing the air from your lungs before he broke it and rested his forehead against yours.
