Warnings:Voyeurism, masturbations, sex toys, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, angst, talks of domestic abuse, talks of being held captive, protectiveness, Frankie throwing his rank around a little and it’s sexy, domestic violence, threats of murder.
Comments: Frankie finds that his new neighbor doesn’t close her windows when she’s masturbating. You have moved trying to escape your past and catch the handsome man next door watching you one day, inviting him over in the heat of the moment, a decision that will change your lives.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says ’creator chooses not to use warnings’. You also agree that you’re the right age to be consuming anything here.
Frankie had noticed that the ‘FOR RENT’ sign had been taken down next door. Noticed it when he had pulled into the driveway after a long day, noticing that the lights had been turned on, but he hadn’t given it much more thought than that. The need for a beer and a shower urgent. Perhaps a beer in the shower after the day he had. Not noticing that someone was moving around, setting up a home while he opens the door to the house and sighing as he takes his hat off and starts toeing off his boots to let his aching feet breathe.
“Fuck I’m getting old.” He grunts to himself and closes the door, emptying his pockets of keys, wallets, mints and his phone, dumping it all on the entryway table Julia had left when she had moved out two years ago. Hanging up his jacket and pulling his sweaty t-shirt over his head as he walks down the hall towards his bedroom.
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: After joining the boys as a much needed team medic, the tension between you and Frankie becomes to much to ignore.
Word count: 4.4k.
Warnings: Masturbation (male & female), P in V sex (unprotected), Oral (Fem receiving), Fingering, Yearning, Pining, Two idiots in love and trying to ignore it, Use of restraints (consensual) swearing, and Benny Miller being Benny Miller.
I have not beta read this! I wrote it in a few hours, I’ll check for mistakes tomorrow.
Thank you @frannyzooey for being so helpful, and helping me with a few things my ass struggled with when writing this.
You shouldn’t be staring. You should NOT be staring. He is your teammate, and he is your friend. But fuck. The way the droplets of rain drip down off of his curls and down on to his face is mesmerizing. The way the raspy texture of his voice seems to go straight to your core and make you drip with arousal every single time he speaks is mesmerizing. You’ve gotten to the point where you fear that he can smell your arousal every time he’s close to you, and you’ve actively started to avoid laying your sleeping bag to close to his through worry he’ll be somehow able to see that you dream of him every night.
He’s caught you looking a few times and he downplays it with a simple smile or a wink, the obvious embarrassment rushes to your face with an immediate blood rush. You’ve felt something for him since meeting him that very first day, but it has continued to intensify, and that tiny flame has formed into a full wildfire.
The sound of Santi barking an order at you pulls you out of your daydream. You gulp loudly and the vacant expression on your voice is enough for him to repeat himself, “What has gotten into lately?” nothing unfortunately you think to yourself, “We are making shelter. Get some water boiling and some food. We’re camping here.” You nod in agreement and swing your head around just enough to see Frankie, it’s his time to stare at you and he’s doing it intently. Head slightly tilted and mouth open as he takes in the flushed look on your distracted face. You quickly turn to your day pack, pulling out the set of small fuel cannisters and pots – lighting all four – and filling them all with water and adding ramen noodles to two of them.
You’d joined the group a year or so ago, their previous mission being a complete disaster which resulted in the death of one of their friends, Tom. You’d reluctantly allowed Santi to bring you along to a meeting in which the guys had seemingly only come along to because he was in another one of his ruts after the hell-mission. But they’d noted how he’d become a lot more responsible with planning and kept his word to be one hundred open with them from the off-set and you were a huge part of his newly found responsible turnaround as an ex-army medic that was on a much-needed sabbatical from your trauma residency he’d decided that you’d be a welcomed addition to the team.
Having seen combat and being able to deal with gunshot wounds, stab wounds and so on in not so ideal places you were exactly what was needed. The hell-mission had three gunshot wounds, one of which was fatal, and he’d decided then and there that someone clinical was a necessity for their group. So, there you were. Tucked away in the corner of the booth, wedged between a very interested and flirty Benny and Santi – trying to avoid gazing into the most gorgeous deep brown eyes you’d ever seen unaware that one year on, you’d be in the exact same situation.
The sound of Frankie, Benny, Will and Santi laying out your bed for the night kept you from falling back into another daydream, listening as they slightly argued and groaned at each other – all frustrated, hungry and tired from the insane amount of walking you had done for the past twelve hours after successfully completing your mission, all eager to get home.
You fill cups with tea and evenly dish out the noodles before calling them over to eat with you.
They form a circle around and murmur their thanks as they begin to dig in, and you stare idly into the bowl in front of you, not hungry enough to eat. “Did she look at your leg yet, Fish?” Will asks before shoving a large forkful into his mouth and you look across to Frankie who’s shaking his head at Will.
“You’re hurt?” you ask with a confused expression etched across your face, unsure why he’d hide this from you seeing as that is the reason you’ve been bought along.
“It’s fine. It’s nothing.” He says with a shrug avoiding eye contract.
“You got stabbed in the thigh, dude, that’s hardly ‘nothing’.” Benny counters back and your face flushes red with fury.
“You got stabbed, and didn’t tell me? What the hell am I here for? Because I sure as hell, didn’t agree to this just to make you guys’ dinner!” You yell across at him – shocking yourself and everyone else at your outburst, “I don’t know if you don’t trust my skills as a doctor, Frankie, but I’m more than capable.” You all but throw down your bowl of noodles before getting up and skulking away, ignoring the voices behind you as you strut away from your teammates and out of the little shelter and into the rain.
You stand outside being drenched by the rainfall, stood far enough from the guys to let the frustrations of the past week leave you. The mission was to retrieve information in regard to a huge incoming weapon shipment from a cartel that had singlehandedly been flooding the streets of Bogota with illegal arms for months. You’d kept guard with Benny earlier that morning as Frankie, Will and Santi stormed the building, only a few of their guards had remained and they’d successfully retrieved the information before destroying every computer, phone and electrical device that had been serving as the tools to communicate with the citizens they’d been bribing in the city.
You’d thought that it had been a total success but clearly, you’d been kept in the dark about everything that had transpired.
The rainfall had left you shivering and soaked, completely wet through and you sighed at your own stupidly; aware that you’d probably not be fully dry again until back at the hotel. The feeling of a large palm gently resting on your back makes you audibly gasp out-loud.
“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you; I called your name, but you didn’t respond.” Frankie says almost sheepishly, “Fuck, you’re drenched, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, I-uh- I needed to step away.” you say whilst staring at your shoes.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. And, I have complete faith in your skills. I think you’re amazing. I just didn’t want to burden you; you’ve been a little… stressed the past few days.”
“We’re all stressed, Frankie, you’d still done your duties. Mine is to make sure you’re all safe, you should have told me immediately. A stab wound isn’t nothing.” Your voice comes out a lot harsher than you had intended it to and you immediately regret the way you come across, “Look, I don’t want to argue or yell at anyone, I just want to be doing my job.”
You feel a wave of guilt as you look over at him and noticed that he himself is now completely drenched through and before you get a chance to apologise, he reaches out a hand for you to take and leads you back to your shelter.
“Fuck,” Benny mumbles at the sight of you both shivering and soaked, “Better get changed before you both catch your death. And let her look at your leg, dumbass.”
You pull open your backpack and start desperately pulling everything out in search of dry clothing, finding fresh underwear and dry pants but falling short at a fresh shirt. You groan in annoyance at your own stupidity. Frankie having watched you manage to find everything, but a dry shirt reaches back into his and pulls you out a spare one of his and tentatively hands it to you along with a reassuring smile. And you offer him a heartfelt thanks before returning the smile.
You look over at Benny, Will and Santi who are all caught up in conversation by the fire and watching the rainfall outside the shelter.
You retreat behind one of the two privacy partitions and hastily get out of your drenched clothing, making sure to squeeze the water out of your hair before getting dressed in your dry clothes.
The boys are still in deep conversation as you come back out and grab your medical bag before walking over to the other partition and asking Frankie if it’s ok to come check his wound.
Dressed in just his boxers, a shirt and a sweater you try not to let him see how affected by him you are and instead concentrate on his injury. He’s perched down on a rock and you sit in between his legs having perfect access to his cut.
He’d hastily packed the wound with gauze and wrapped a tight bandage around it and you sigh at the image, fresh red blood still staining the skin around it. “The moment I cut this off, it’s going to gush, Francisco,” you say with another sigh, “you must be in agony.”
“It’s fine,” he grunts back as you take your safety scissors and start to remove the bandage, “A little sore.”
You instruct him to hold a bunch of fresh gauze against the wound as you get out your antiseptic wipes to clean the cut, “It’s going to sting a little” you warn as you signal for him to remove the gauze. He hisses as you gently wipe across the jagged cut, it’s not as deep as you were anticipating but it’s deep enough to require tissue adhesive. He winces in pain a few times and your free hand reaches up to his hip to give it a reassuring squeeze before dropping down so you can treat him the best you can. After you glue the wound the best you can, you gently access the area – running your fingertips slowly across his smooth skin.
He lets out a ragged breath and your eyes shoot up to his, he stares back into yours with an intensity that makes your core throb. You swallow hard as you look away, your line of sight automatically looking down and you see it. The affect your touch had on him, his cock hardening at the feeling of your fingertips gently grazing his skin, the feeling of your hot breath of his skin as you focused on his injury.
Your eyes flash back up to his and he’s still staring at you, the look in his eyes desperate and hungry, “I want you too,” he says barely above a whisper, confirming he’s been well aware of why you’ve been on edge the past few days, “Have been wanting you for a very long time.”
The sight of you on your knees in between his legs, biting down on your lower lip becomes almost too much to bare, he lets out a small grunt in frustration before reaching across to roughly palm himself over his boxers. A gentle moan escapes through your lips as you watch in desperation, desperate to reach out and take him in your hands, in your mouth… anyway you can.
His other hand grips the bottom of your chin and tilts your face upwards; he continues to palm his hardened length as he moves his face down towards yours. His nose bumps yours and he stills, eyes locked into one another’s, he awaits your confirmation and the moment you give it, his lips crash on top of yours. You cup his cheeks as his tongue dips into between your lips, tasting the inside of your mouth with fervour. You moan into him, embracing the way his tongue works tirelessly to explore your mouth. “Frankie,” you murmur up against his plush lips, “I need you.”
“Me too, baby. The minute we get back to the hotel, I’m going to make you feel so fucking good.” His forehead rests gently on top of yours as you fight the urge to reach down and take him into your hands, “Soon.” He whispers as you look back down at his throbbing erection.
The sound of footsteps make you both hastily break your embrace, you quickly covering his now closed wound with an adhesive bandage before he pulls on his dry pants.
“Will he survive? What’s the verdict, doc?” Santi asks as he pokes his head around the partition.
“He’ll be fine… As long as he doesn’t hide anymore injuries from me in the future,” you say shooting him a little wink and he holds his hands up in mock defeat, “Cuts closed, and I’ll put a fresh dressing on it before we leave tomorrow morning.”
Shoving your medical pack back into your backpack, you feel him gently press a fleeting hand against the small of your back and he flashes you a smile before joining the guys around the fire. After a few moments you decide against joining them as lack of sleep is gaining on you.
After brushing your teeth, you pick up your sleeping bag and announce to the team you’re going to sleep. They all wish you a goodnight and you lay your sleeping bag on the mat nearest to your partition, facing away from the boys. You trace your fingers gently over kiss swollen lips, as your thighs clamp together at the vivid imagery of him palming his cock for you replays over and over in your head.
Sleep doesn’t come as quick as you’re hoping, instead you lay there listening to the boys tease each other and reminisce over past missions… they all agree at the same time to get some sleep.
Not looking over your shoulder you hear him, laying his sleeping bag down next to yours and you smile at your shared need for closeness. Barely above a whisper you hear a small, “goodnight, sweetheart” murmured in your direction.
Morning arrives and the sounds of the rainforest fill your ears, the lack of rain a welcomed surprise. Frankie, Santi and Benny are still sound asleep, Will sitting up in his sleeping bag and looking out at the jungle. “Morning,” you murmur voice still thick with sleep, “Should be back at the hotel in a few hours.”
“Good morning,” he returns with a nod, “Yep, back to reality.”
Boiling water and cooking oatmeal had become your morning routine and you eagerly begin – desperate for a caffeine fix. “If I never have to eat oatmeal ever again after today, it’ll still be too soon,” you groan as you stir the pots it’s cooking in.
Frankie wakes up next and his loud stretch makes you giggle, his face swinging around in search of yours as he greets you with a knowing smile.
“Morning, Fish,” Will grumbles from across the room, “Better wake the sleeping beauties if we want to get out of here this morning.”
Stomachs filled, and flasks filled with coffee – you all pack up your supplies and put on your backpacks and start to make your way out of the rainforest. Santiago had arranged with a contact for a car to be dropped off about two hours away from where you’d set up camp, and as you dredged further through the muddy forest you began to see the coastline in the distance signalling you were close.
It took more restraint that you’d care to admit as you saw the truck waiting for you, the keys had been hidden above one of the tires and your heart sank as Will went to retrieve it under the one that had been agreed upon and it wasn’t there. The mad rush as you all stepped forward to try and find the missing keys almost comical and the shared simultaneous sigh of relief when it was found under another tire made you audible giggle. Wasting no time all bags are thrown into the back of the truck without any care whatsoever, Benny volunteers to drive and Will calls shotgun.
Santi climbs in first followed by Frankie and yourself. The feeling of Frankie’s hand brushing up against the side of your leg makes you breathe out a ragged breath. Unable to ignore the ache that had started that very first night after he’d helped you over a risky looking bridge had gotten stronger and stronger, magnified by one hundred as you’d shared your first kiss the night before.
The drive back to the hotel was hell-ish. Benny wasn’t the most careful driver at the best of times, and after a week in the jungle surviving on little sleep, he unsurprisingly didn’t get any better. With every sharp turn he made you found yourself pressing up against Frankie and vice versa, at one point he’d driven so recklessly your hand gripped Frankie’s thigh so tightly that he groaned out loud – not in pleasure, but in pain as you fisted his knife wound without intent. “Shit” you hissed as guilt flooded your whole body. His flattened palm shifted beneath the bottom of your thigh to give you a reassuring squeeze as you apologised profusely.
The moment you saw the hotel you breathed out the loudest ‘thank goodness’ you’ve ever uttered and practically swung the door open… both in anticipation and relief.
As the other guys stood around discussing the plans for the afternoon, you reached into the back of the truck to pull out your backpack. Biting your lip, the moment he purposely pressed up behind you to grab his own stuff, “My room, shower, five minutes,” he ordered in your ear before quickly removing himself for your space.
You all but ran up to your hotel room, discarding your bags as quickly as you could and rummaging through the suitcase that you’d left there before venturing out on your mission – pulling out clean underwear, a sundress and toiletries.
Your room was on the same floor as the rest of the guys, five doors up from Frankie’s – you took the time to check it was clear before padding down the hallway to his room – you pressed the door gently and it swung open, steam from the shower already coming out from under the bathroom door.
You locked the door behind you, stripping yourself down completely before entering the bathroom.
He was facing the tiles in the shower, already dripping wet – the broadness of his shoulders, his strong arms and the firmness of his cute little butt made you lick your lips. You watched for a few seconds as he washed the shampoo out of his gorgeous brown curls and then you slipped in behind him; wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing gentle kisses to his shoulders.
“Was wondering when you were going to get here,” he mumbles, before spinning around to face you, “You kept me waiting.”
“Hardly” you say with a large grin.
“You’ve been teasing me for over a year,” he says with a wink before stepping back to take a look at you, he looks up and down at your bare form – eyes tracing back and forth over your breasts, “Fuck, you’re perfect” he grits out before reaching out and taking one of your breasts in his hand to test the weight of it.
You squeeze up next to him and press yourself against him as tightly as you can, relishing in the little groan he lets out as you do so. Stepping under the steaming spray of water you wet your hair and he watches every movement you make, silently admiring as you shampoo and condition your hair, and as you begin to wash the grime off of your body. Only moving as your eyes lock onto him and your fingers brush down through the small curls on your mound and dip into your slit.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he warns before ripping your hand away, “I said I am going to make you feel good when we got here… don’t make me restrain these pretty little wrists now.”
His words cut through you like butter, and you mewl at the thought he’d planted in your head.
“Out of the shower and get on the bed, now” he orders, and you obediently comply to his demands, making sure to press yourself up against him one more time on the way out.
Your still dripping wet as you lay yourself down on the edge of his bed, watching as he slowly emerges from the bathroom – his cock rock hard and heavy swinging between his legs as he makes his way over to you.
“Look at you,” he says quietly, “Fuck, baby, you’re absolutely perfect” he moans out whilst beginning to stroke his cock.
You salivate at the sight, the way he’s staring down at you with an untamed hunger and providing himself with a little relief as he does so. “Open those legs, baby, I want to see.”
Moving back a little more on the bed, you lean back onto your elbows and open your legs slowly, giving him a full view of your glistening cunt. Already soaked with arousal, and clenching around nothing with need.
“Frankie,” you whisper as he continues to jerk himself off whilst taking you all in. “Please, Frankie” you repeat as you hand unconsciously falls downwards towards your slit and you start to rub small circles into your clit to provide yourself some much needed relief.
“Uh-oh, baby girl,” he grits out, “I warned you.”
You immediately retreat your hand and start to apologise, “I couldn’t wait” you stutter.
“Poor baby” he says with an exaggerated pout, “Always got be such a fucking tease.”
“I need you, Frankie,” you whimper as he walks away from the bed and towards his backpack. Bending over to grab something from the side pocket, “Please, babe.”
“Sssh, baby” he soothes as he walks back over to you, you can’t quite make out what he has one in of his fists, “I intend on giving you all your pleasure today, baby, and if you can’t keep your hands to yourself then I’m going to have to restrain them” he drops a quick kiss to your forehead and then presents the long black cable wire to you, “Safe word – jungle, say it once and I’ll rip it off immediately” he says before making you say out loud you understand and consent. His hands are gentle as they bring yours together, and he ensures that the restraint is not too tight or causing you discomfort before playing your hands above your head.
“Keep them there” he orders before bending down on to his knees and slowly running a finger through your slit, “Been dying to know how you taste” he murmurs before licking a wide strip through your folds making you mewl in pleasure, and without thinking your hands whip down to find their way into his hair, “What did I say?” he grits up at you as you realise your mistake.
“Sorry,” you whisper before moving them back to their original position, “Didn’t think.”
He shakes his head at you, “Naughty girl” he says before burying his face back between your legs, he licks a few more wide strips down from your entrance to your clit, before focusing on that bundle of nerves. Groaning in approval at your desperate pleas and pleasured moans. Just as he feels your thighs begin to shake, he thrusts two thick fingers inside of you, pumping in and out as his tongue continues its delicious assault over your clit. The moment he feels your walls begin to flutter and clamp down around his fingers he curls them inside of you and continues to lick furiously as your orgasm rips through you. Cumming hard with a loud gasp of his name, “Francisco.”
“Good girl,” he soothes as you writhe underneath him, still high from your orgasm, “Love it when you call me that, baby.”
“N-need you,” you gasp out still unable to form a coherent sentence as your chest heaves up and down, “Please.”
“Fuck, so needy, baby” he teases as he slides his cock through your puffy folds, “Going to fill you up with my cum now, sweet girl.”
The thickness of his cock makes you gasp as he slowly breaches your entrance, he’s slow, making sure to study your face the entire time and make sure it’s not too much for you, and when he’s sure he’ll inch himself in further and further whilst murmuring sweet nothings about how beautiful you look and how well you’re taking his cock.
The stretch of him makes you bite down on your bottom lip, the slight stinging remaining present but being burned out by the pleasure, when he’s almost fully inside of you – he brings his thumb down to your clit and slowly rubs little circles into it.
He groans loudly the moment you’re filled by him, the feeling of you clenching around him making him worry he’ll blow his load immediately.
“Relax, baby,” he soothes quietly, “You’re gripping me so fucking tight, baby.”
“Please, move” you whimper in reply.
He rocks his hips in and out, just a little, barely moving an inch in and out at a time, and then he picks up the pace. Biting down on his lip as he searches for that sweet spongey spot inside of you and groaning in pleasure the second, he realises he’s found it, his pace quickens - rubbing against that spot perfectly, hitting it every single time and revelling in the way your eyes begin to roll back as you start to cum around his cock.
“You look so fucking good like that, baby. Going to tie those pretty little wrists up every time that you backtalk me, princesa.”
“Is tha-that a promise?” you choke out as blinding pleasure rips through you, “Fuck, I fucking love your cock, Francisco” you can’t help but choke out everything going through your brain, “I need it… need in my mouth after, baby, please can I suck your cock?” your words become more and more incoherent as you clamp down hard around his cock, flooding around it as you cum hard with another scream of his name.
He thrusts as much as he can grunting loudly as his spend paints your walls, “Fuck, baby, fuck.”
The pulls out of your still fluttering hole and watches as his spend spills out with your arousal.
“Fuck.”
You giggle at the look on his face as he continues to watch your pussy, “So fucking pretty,” he murmurs.
He climbs over you and pulls you into a passionate kiss, his hands working quickly to break yours free of the cable ties and the moment they’re free you tangle them in his still wet locks.
“This is the start of something spectacular, I think” he says before kissing you again, “Rest up, baby, we’re not leaving this bed for at least the next few days.”
He pulls you into his strong chest and you nuzzle into him, “I hope you’ve got more of those cable ties, Francisco.”
it’s turning into fluffy with smutty… and it might be a while longer for me to upload it, so maybe enter my taglist (in my bio!) too see it when it comes out! <3
Warnings:Voyeurism, masturbations, sex toys, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, angst, talks of domestic abuse, talks of being held captive, protectiveness, Frankie throwing his rank around a little and it’s sexy, domestic violence, threats of murder.
Comments: Frankie finds that his new neighbor doesn’t close her windows when she’s masturbating. You have moved trying to escape your past and catch the handsome man next door watching you one day, inviting him over in the heat of the moment, a decision that will change your lives.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says ’creator chooses not to use warnings’. You also agree that you’re the right age to be consuming anything here.
Frankie had noticed that the ‘FOR RENT’ sign had been taken down next door. Noticed it when he had pulled into the driveway after a long day, noticing that the lights had been turned on, but he hadn’t given it much more thought than that. The need for a beer and a shower urgent. Perhaps a beer in the shower after the day he had. Not noticing that someone was moving around, setting up a home while he opens the door to the house and sighing as he takes his hat off and starts toeing off his boots to let his aching feet breathe.
“Fuck I’m getting old.” He grunts to himself and closes the door, emptying his pockets of keys, wallets, mints and his phone, dumping it all on the entryway table Julia had left when she had moved out two years ago. Hanging up his jacket and pulling his sweaty t-shirt over his head as he walks down the hall towards his bedroom.
Summary: Star may be feeling embarrassed by her fall, but everyone else is impressed with her heroics. Frankie can’t deny how he feels now, and a few tense moments bring them together.
A/N: Oh hi! Sorry about my very long and unexpected hiatus. Please forgive me, and here is what you’ve been waiting for. I hope you enjoy!
When your door opens after only being alone for about twenty minutes from fleeing the beach, you don’t bother to look up, knowing it’s Little. She’s the only person you knew who never bothered to knock on a door–a habit she’d had since your days in school together. The familiarity of it made you smile internally, but outwardly you gave a low groan and brought the pillow you were clutching to your chest to rest over your face.
“Oh, Star, it’s not that bad,” Little says steadily, and the bed shifts as she climbs on next to you and rips the pillow away. Her face is inches away, that dazzling smile far to shit-eating to be comforting. “Seriously, you looked badass–it was like a movie!”
“Little, I will punch you,” You deadpan, shooting her a glare, “And not the fake movie kind of punch.”
She merely snorts, rolling her eyes before propping a hand against her cheek, “So you don’t want to hear about how Frankie just spent the last twenty minutes singing your praises and debating whether he should come up here?” She gestures towards the door with her free hand and you jolt up slightly in a panic.
“He’s not coming up, is he?”
“No, I said I would because I knew you’d be in here having a crisis.” She replies easily, and you take a breath before lowering yourself back down into the comfortable duvet. Little watches you for a moment before adding; “You know, I was looking at him when everything happened. I wanted to make sure he caught Rosie, but the look on his face when he saw you fall–I couldn’t look away until I heard the way you hit that rock.”
“He was just concerned, Little. He probably realised it could have been Rosie that got hurt.” You try to keep your tone light, despite wanting to throttle her for reminding you of the expressions of panic and concern that had flashed over his features when he had pulled you from the water. “He just got full custody of her, he’s going to be extra hard on himself for a while.”
“That’s probably true,” Little agrees, having been the one who told you the details of how Elena had sent him those papers releasing her from all parental rights, just weeks before the wedding. “But, Rosie was fine and you weren’t. He lost his shit, and don’t pretend you didn’t hear him saying ‘mi amor’ after insisting he be the one to bandage you up.”
You give another long sigh, staring up at the ceiling with unfocused eyes, thinking back to the look he’d given you on the beach. The way it made your heart feel as though it would beat right out of your chest. Maybe he did care more about you than you were admitting, but that didn’t mean it was anything more than a platonic love. You’d grown close over the course of helping Little and Santi plan their wedding, it was understandable that he was upset you had been hurt. Everyone else had been, though seeing as it was his daughter you had literally thrown yourself into harm’s way to save, it made perfect sense that he felt responsible for you.
“Let’s drop it Little, you need to get back to your husband and enjoy your honeymoon, and I need to wallow for a bit before eating my feelings at dinner.”
When Little gives a frustrated groan, you look back over at her in surprise to find her glancing at the closed door before her low voice says, “Santi will kill me for this, but…okay you know that he came by the night he got those papers from Elena?” You nod, your brows furrowing in curiosity, and wait for her to continue. “Well, I was in the shower when he first got there, so they were alone in the kitchen talking when I…uh, quietly walked down the hall to join them.”
You arch a brow at your best friend, “You eavesdropped?”
Little purses her lips, but gives a conceding jerk of her head, “Eavesdropping. Overheard. Whatever, Santi was the one who said Frankie was finally free to focus on himself. And I quote, ‘Ask out Star, I know she’s interested,’ and Frankie replied ‘Let me figure that out in my own time, man. No need to rush things with her.” She breaks off as you bolt upright, giving her a wide-eyed look.
“Shut up!”
“I’m serious! So take your time too, if you need it. But stop denying something is there.”
You drop your head into your hands, “Oh god, Little, making a move on vacation after your best friends get married isn’t the right time,” You shake your head, pressing your thumbs into the corners of your eyes, “There is a reality we live in, one where it makes zero sense to be together because we are so different and he has much more important things to worry about.”
This time, Little sits up and faces you, her expression serious, “He is not going to care at all about the–”
“He will. Even if he’s lovely and sweet about it because he’s Frankie, he has a child and a past with drugs, me coming in with my unofficial criminal activity is not–”
“Oh my god, Star, you weren’t even charged. The detective gave you a slap on the wrist by way of a stern talking to and then thanked you for saving those dogs when no one else would!” You open your mouth to respond, then pause as voices sound from the hall.
You both listen as footsteps near and then hear Frankie’s soft voice speaking to Rosie. He’s assuring her they can go back outside and play once she’s had a quick bath, and his voice fades when they disappear into his room, the sound of the door clicking shut the last thing you hear. Little gives you a look, not unloving but certainly frustrated, before giving you a quick hug and leaving the room.
You lay alone in your room for a long time thinking, until eventually the cool room and white noise of the fan whirring away above you lull you into a fitful nap. Your last thoughts–or perhaps, the beginning of your dreams–are of Frankie Morales pulling you from the water and promising to take care of you.
You stay in your room for the remainder of the evening, going so far as to order dinner up and letting the staff member pass along your goodnight to everyone on your behalf after she rolled the food cart in. You gave yourself a break, and thankfully no one begrudged it of you. It was relaxing enough, though you did have to distract yourself with a few movies to give your mind a break; overanalysing your feelings and intentions for Frankie wasn’t going to do either of you any good.
You had promised yourself to not hide anymore, however, and so the next morning you rose early enough to slip downstairs and join the few early risers for coffee. When you arrive in the kitchen, you almost turn back upon seeing only Frankie sitting at the table, coffee in one hand and a book in the other.
Maybe he was trying to distract himself as well.
You clear your throat before you take the coward’s way out, and he looks up with a mild interest that morphs into a full and stunning grin the moment he sees it’s you. You return an awkward smile, “Good morning.”
Frankie sets both his book and mug down, turning in his seat, “How are you feeling, querida?” His voice is deep from disuse so early, and you swallow nervously as you side step toward the coffee pot and help yourself.
“I’m really good, thank you,” You say, though when you do come around the counter to join him, his eyes fall to your bandage, peeking from the short hem of your romper. “Honestly, I changed the dressing first thing and it’s not too bad.” You try to shrug, but when you meet his gaze again his lips are pressed together in a thin line.
You sit down next to him at the table and offer a wider smile, grateful the concealer on your cheek hid the bruising around the slight cut there. “How are you?” You say, taking a sip of coffee and doing your best to appear relaxed despite the proximity.
He doesn’t press you, instead he seems to give a half shake of his head before replying. “I’m alright. I was worried…” He trails off, eyes dropping to his coffee and one of his large hands coming to rub the back of his neck. He needed a trim, his bed head more noticeable since he wasn’t yet wearing his signature cap. The desire to run your fingers through the mess of curls almost made you moan aloud. “I can’t thank you enough, you know. Rosie is completely fine because of you, and I’m really sorry you were hurt because I messed up.”
You look at Frankie in surprise, the self-loathing in his voice slipping through the steady tone he was trying to hide behind. Resisting reaching out for him, you instead opted to point at him and ensure he met your eyes before you said, “You did not mess up, Frankie. Kids run, they get wild and carried away and that’s why it sometimes takes a village when it comes to raising them,” He’s smiling a little, so you continue, “Anyone of us would have done the same, I just happened to be right there. But she’s going to scrape her knee one day and it won’t be your fault, okay?”
“I–you’re right. It’s a lot, having a kid. I love every minute of it, and I’m grateful for all the support, from my mother, from Little and all of you,” He sighs, pausing to take a sip of his coffee, “It’s just, at the end of the day I’m her dad. I’m supposed to be the one person who never lets her down or fucks up. She doesn’t have a mother anymore, I have to fill that role too now.”
You reach for him without thought as the words, that heartbreaking confession, come out. Taking his hand, you squeeze slightly and rub your thumb in soothing circles. For a moment, it’s silent, and you’re afraid to look up so you stare at your hands as you speak. “Any kid with a parent who loves as much as you do, Frankie, is lucky. Elena is the one who is missing out on both an amazing kid and a remarkable man. It’s her loss.”
You glance up when Frankie moves and only have a moment to see that blazing expression on his handsome face before a voice cuts in, startling you both.
“Here here!”
It’s Benny, bounding into the room cluelessly, his eyes on the morning fruits and breads set out along the counter. You pull your hand from Frankie’s and cover your blush by taking a large swig of coffee. He clears his throat and does the same, then greets Benny with a small edge to his voice.
“Hey Superhero!” Benny looks at you with a huge grin, slapping Frankie on the back in way of a greeting, and you can’t help but smile up at the blonde. He was just too nice, too oblivious to know he’d walked in on…well, you don’t know what that was.
“Benny, it’s too early to be so chipper.” You joke, grabbing one of the strawberries off of his plate as he sits down across from you. You spend the next half hour chatting with the two men, that tension between you and Frankie going unnoticed by the middle Miller, and then take advantage of Little, Santi and a few others all appearing to slip out of the room with your beach bag, eager to get some quiet time in by the water.
You can’t help but glance back as you close the patio door behind you, a pleasant heat coursing through you when you find Frankie’s eyes following you.
At lunchtime, you decide to pop upstairs to check your leg again before eating, knowing that once you have you’ll want to relax and procrastinate on the task. You haven’t stopped thinking about Frankie all day, but he’s been busy with Rosie and his mother, which has both kept him at a distance and stopped any further conversation from occurring between the two of you. You aren’t sure exactly what you would say, even if given a moment alone.
With a sigh, you convince yourself it’s for the best. There was a moment, yes. But this was a vacation–people tended to get caught up in the excitement. Your own mother was one to fall fully in love with pretty much any place your family traveled. But getting yourself too involved with the idea of Frankie and you was only going to lead to heartbreak for you, and potentially damage a friendship with him that meant a great deal.
Once you’ve finished, you open the door to your room and pause, glancing back towards the bed and finding your sunglasses laying on the duvet where you had tossed them as you came in earlier. It’s when you are padding back out the door moments later that you hear a soft little cry, which pulls you from your thoughts. You peer at the neighbouring door to yours, finding it slightly ajar, and listen. A few beats later another cry sounds, and you don’t hear Frankie or Imelda so you approach slowly and give a light knock.
“Imelda?”
You step into the room, eyes casting around only to find the bed empty–though clearly having been slept in. Rosie is tousle-haired in her crib, a frown on her little face that makes you soften instantly. Her grandmother must have woken already and left her to nap in peace, and you give the toddler a knowing smile.
“I think someone woke a little early,” You say, and her lower lip pouts out as tears begin to well and you scoop her up instantly, snuggling her close and peppering her with a few kisses. “Don’t worry sweet girl, I’ll cover for you.” Rosie gives a little giggle as she settles against you, finding a comfortable way to lay her head, and you begin to slowly pace the room, lightly swinging her in your arms, one hand rubbing soothing circles over her back.
As you comfort her, sadness washes over you. The idea that her mother could abandon her as if she were one of the unwanted dogs you worked with everyday made your heartbreak–and you were also a little angry for her and Frankie. You could understand not being ready to settle and have a family, but to put so little effort in over the first months of Rosie’s life, leaving for weeks at a time to party and always sending Frankie the bad news via text messages, you couldn’t wrap your head around it.
You had guessed that Elena was the one to bring Frankie close to drugs, before she was pregnant. That they had been spiralling together-her happy to be on the arm of a handsome veteran, him believing she wanted more than simply a little status and a constant partner to berate and abuse. You don’t know the details of what happened, or how he found out about Rosie, but you knew she was gone from their lives now and hoped that meant he could finally heal. You don’t realise you’ve begun to speak softly in Spanish, just calming words to help lull her back to sleep, until Rosie gives a happy snore.
You’ve been pacing by the window, and decide to move toward the chair in the corner, thinking you’ll just take a seat with her until Frankie or Imelda come up to check on her. You begin to turn when you hear a floorboard groan and pause in alarm to find Frankie there, just inside the doorway watching you in surprise. The expression on his face is odd, but you can’t get a read on it even as he continues to stare.
He just keeps looking at you, and you can’t stop looking back.
Frankie knew he should look away– he was staring. Aggressively. But he couldn’t tear his eyes from the image before him, the wonder barely concealed by his surprise. You, holding his baby. Saying words of comfort to her in Spanish as she clutches herself close and snores happily. He had wanted to come and wake her up from her nap, see if she wanted to play some games or build sandcastles, give his mother a few hours on her own. The last thing he expected when he walked into the room was to find you there.
He didn’t miss it either, that moment his foot made contact with the squeaky floorboard and your expression flashed with a protective concern, arms tightening slightly around his baby. He can hear his blood roaring in his ears and staring is the only thing he can do for several minutes. You become unsure as the silence stretches on, eyes assessing him in confusion before you move towards him.
“I’m sorry, Frankie. I heard her crying and thought I’d look in–”
Frankie shakes his head and smiles, “No, don’t apologise. I just,” He looks down at Rosie, still sound asleep, before meeting your gaze again and stepping closer. “I’ve never seen her relax like that for anyone else. She really likes you.”
He wants to say he does too. After that moment at breakfast, he’d found it hard to think of anything else and wanted to try and capture you alone, to explain why he had given you such an intense look when you’d comforted him. He wasn’t exactly sure how he would say it–certainly not, ‘I realised that moment I wanted you more than anything and I was going to ask if I could kiss you before that asshole Benny came in’. But something similar. Lighter.
You smile at his words, looking away from him to his little girl, “Oh, she’s a sweetie.”
He reaches out and rubs a hand along her back, careful to avoid touching yours, “Nicest kid, don’t know where she gets it from.” He jokes, but you frown at him, “What?”
“You’re just so hard on yourself,” You reply, your kind eyes never looking away, “But you know you’re an amazing person.”
Unsure of how to reply, he merely nods before gesturing over his shoulder. “Want to come downstairs? We were thinking of putting on a movie for her later, but she’s a bit tired today so it might be better to do it now.”
You brighten immediately, that beautiful smile tugging at your lips instantly and making his stomach do somersaults. “That sounds great, lead the way!”
Rosie is content to remain in your arms for the afternoon, whining anytime someone attempts to take a turn with her and snuggling back in close. He leaves you with her for the movie, opting to sit in a large bean bag chair at the back of the room where he can relax–he’s seen Finding Nemo enough times. You sit up front with Rosie and Benny and the afternoon moves along at a steady pace, the movie more than half over before he feels another person join him on the beanbag and looks up from his half doze to find Little giving him a knowing look.
Admittedly, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you. You were facing away and hadn’t noticed him watching, but he watched every laugh, the way you held Rosie. He’d seen you with her before, but this was the first time where it wasn’t with the purpose of wedding planning and you were more relaxed, entirely focused on his little girl.
Little follows his gaze and smirks, “Hey Fish,” He shoots her a look, well aware of what she’s up to, and she only smiles broadly. “Don’t look at me like that.” Her eyes sparkle, and when he looks behind her he sees Santi a few feet away on the couch she had been sharing with him, attempting to hide his own grin behind his drink.
“Look, I can guess the general direction of your thoughts,” He replies in a low voice, though the general chatter in the room, sound from the movie and distance from where you sit up by the TV with Rosie tells him he could probably speak at a normal volume and you wouldn’t hear. “And I’m going to tell you the same thing I said to Santi–in my own time.”
Little sighs, saying nothing and he thinks she might let it go, but eventually she pats his arm and gives him a small smile. “I just wanted you to know I’m here for you. Whatever you need–it’s my honeymoon, but if you’d like a babysitter tonight, Santi and I would be happy to take RoRo and give you some…space.”
Frankie considers his best friend’s offer, well aware that the evening activities planned included a beach bonfire everyone was going to dress up for. Maybe he could find a moment with you and just see what would happen. Tell you that he has feelings for you and then let you decide if another step could happen. He glances over in time to see you throw your head back in laughter at Rosie’s partial imitation of one of the characters in the movie, delight brightening your features, a happy giggle tearing out of Rosie.
He looks back over at Little, but meets Santi’s gaze as he does and pauses, remembering his friend’s words from the day before–that Rosie deserved to have a dad who was happy. He puts a hand over Little’s and gives a small nod, “Just for tonight? I think–I’m going to put myself first, just this once.”
You’re staring in the mirror, frowning at your reflection. You think your dress looks pretty–it’s casual and flowery, but there’s just so much cleavage. Little had said it was the exact right amount, and basically threatened to remove one of your fingers if you didn’t wear it to tonight’s little bonfire on the beach, but you had convinced yourself it would be breezy enough to justify a sweater over top. Instead, it was hot enough out tonight that the air conditioning was a very welcome reprieve even as the sun had started to set and you had opted to eat inside for dinner.
With no excuse, you decide to just wear the damn dress and enjoy, let yourself shut down the negative thoughts—because so far, not one person here has done a thing to make you uncomfortable or self-conscious. The only thing was, the dress had the type of tighter material that no bra could really contend with—regardless of the several options you had to go with, all were very noticeable underneath the smooth fabric, and the straps were twice the size of that of the dress. You turn this way and that as you look into the full length mirror, then let out a great sigh. You’ll go without a bra on. Plenty of people with breasts avoided bras all the time, there was no law saying that because yours were big, you had to hide them away. And aside from being much more comfortable, you know that the dress is tight fitting enough at the top to steady the ladies, so long as you don’t do any running.
Now that you’ve thought about it, you become determined and work quickly to throw the dress off, remove your bra and then redress, this time adjusting yourself carefully and then looking into the mirror with trepidation…but you look—well, amazing. Without the bulk of the bra, you fill the dress like it was literally handmade just for you, and the cleavage becomes slightly less pronounced. You love it, you love the self-confidence you feel as you gaze at yourself, and give yourself a little nod of approval before making your way down to the beach.
You had spent most of the afternoon with Rosie, only parting ways when it was her dinner time to sneak upstairs and get yourself ready for the bonfire. You’d ended up lingering in the shower, using the luxury soaps and conditioners to your heart’s content. You felt pampered and knew you smelled pretty amazing, and hoped that you’d still feel this confident when you faced Frankie again.
You didn’t know what tonight would bring, but you wanted to tell him that you had feelings for him. You were going to keep it simple; admit how you felt, but tell him he owed you nothing, not even a response. You just wanted him to know, and see where it took you–because this tension filled relationship was starting to wear on you, and falling harder and harder for him only meant doing more harm to yourself the more you held it back.
“Hey, Star!”
You startle out of your thoughts, glancing up from watching your feet as you clambered through the sand, to find Benny waving from next to the bonfire. He’s grinning a little manically, and you look around to find Little sitting on a chair nearby, shaking her head at her brother. “Benny, you look like you set the fire with ill-intent, you psycho!” She jokes, and you join in the laughter with the Millers, taking the seat next to Little and thanking Benny when he hands you a drink a moment later.
“I’ve interrupted a sibling gathering, it seems.” You say, smiling at your friend and noting the many empty chairs. Benny and Will are the only others down so far, each of them working on the fire as they chat about a past fight Benny had won and whether he would face the same opponent again.
Little leans back in her seat and answers your unspoken question. “Frankie is putting Rosie to bed, and Santi was on a mission for me to find skittles,” Her head rolls towards you, eyes giving you a head to toe scan and brightening. “You wore the dress.”
“Please don’t make it a big deal. But you were right,” You admit this reluctantly, and Little has the good grace to cover her self-satisfied smile by taking a large drink. “I do like how this one fits. But it doesn’t mean I’m going to start listening to you.”
Little makes an unamused noise, “But you look amazing! Seriously, you’re-”
You cut her off, “I heard you, Little—“
Another voice interjects, this one much deeper, “You do look very beautiful, cariña,” Frankie takes the free seat next to you and gives you a soft, shy smile. You’ve spun to look at him almost comically, your mouth opening and closing as heat floods your cheeks. “That colour suits you.” He adds, but his eyes don’t drop from your face like any other man would—no, he holds your gaze, rubs his neck nervously.
You stare for a long minute, the sincerity in his voice, the way he’s dressed up in nice slacks and a starfish patterned button up shirt, that little smile he’s giving you. You blurt out your one secret in a jumble, not even pausing to take a breath.
“I’ve kidnapped abused dogs when animal control can’t intervene without evidence and given them new homes in other cities and states. The police have warned me away from it but my family is well connected so I’ve only ever gotten a slap on the wrist…they keep it quiet so even my job doesn’t know but I use it to find out about the bad owners.”
Frankie just stares back at you silently, his eyes widening a fraction, firelight dancing over his handsome features. There’s a pause, and then Little moves to stand up, capturing both Frankie and your attention as she does. “So I’m going to go make out with my husband. But don’t forget to mention my badass escape driver skills from years ago, Star. I’ve been wanting to brag about that.”
Little walks over to join Santi where he stands chatting with Benny and Will, snatching a bag of skittles happily from his hands. You look back around at Frankie nervously, relieved to see his shocked expression has been replaced by curiosity. “That’s really…I mean, what you’ve done is incredible, Star. Even if it’s vigilante level,” He smiles now, and you can’t help but feel your lips tug up in response, “And I appreciate you sharing but, well, why?”
You turn to face him more directly and bite your lip as you think of how to respond. Deciding that you might as well keep going with the over-honesty, you say, “Because I really like you, Frankie. And I know you have a lot on your plate, that Rosie is your primary concern and if we—I mean, I just don’t want to add to your stress. And I’m just Little’s friend, I know we’ve gotten close but you don’t have any like loyalty to me if I were to get in trouble again and I know you had the drug charges—“
You cut yourself off, mortified at your words, but Frankie is smiling at you, his eyes soft. At first he doesn’t say anything, his eyes merely search your face. “Let’s go for a walk.” He stands, then offers you a hand to help you up, which you take without looking away. You wish you could read his mind right now, because despite the warmth in his smile you can’t get a read on much else. Nerves bubble away in your stomach; what if he’s about to tell you nicely he just wants to be friends?
But as he starts to walk away from the bonfire, his hand doesn’t drop yours. He holds it as he leads you along the beach. He still holds it when you reach the dock and begin making your way along, the ocean waves surrounding you and silencing the chatter from the bonfire group, the darkness growing. When you’re standing at the end of the dock, he gestures for you to take a seat, and as you do he still doesn’t drop your hand.
The moon isn’t very bright tonight, its glow minimal, but it’s enough to reflect off the water and create enough light to see one another. Your stomach is doing summersaults now, and you think your hand is sweaty so you instinctively grip his a little harder to avoid any slippage that would give you away. “Relax, Cariña” He says softly, and though you offer him a smile you can’t really do much more—the moment feels too significant for relaxing. “Let me say this first—I like you too. A lot. I have for a while.”
You feel your stomach disappear, like you’re dropping over the peak of a rollercoaster. “Oh.”
Frankie chuckles warmly, then drops your hand and instead reaches up to brush some stray hairs back from your face. You have to suppress a shiver and can’t look away from the earnest expression on his handsome face.“Yes, ‘oh’. And you aren’t just Little’s friend, Star. You are a part of our family, everyone here loves you, so please don’t think you’re only here because of her,” His hand falls to take hold of one of yours, resting in your lap. “And if you know about the drug charges, then you know they were dropped and I’ve been clean for a long time. Did you really think I wouldn’t want to be with you because you’ve rescued animals in need from their abusers?”
His eyes are searching your face, narrowed slightly to combat the darkness, and you’re glad he can’t sense the way your cheeks are so flushed you could fry an egg on them. “I don’t know what I thought, really. I just…you are such an amazing man, Frankie. You’re this incredible dad, and you were in the fucking special forces, and I’m a much younger vet tech for an animal rescue. I literally bring home strays all the time, and I could never,” You pause, fishing around for the right way to say this, and Frankie simply sits there patiently, his hand still holding yours. “I could never imagine realistically how we would work. How I could fit into your life.”
When Frankie says your name, his voice is a low timbre that sends a wave of sparks up your spine. You meet his gaze as he continues, “You’re way too hard on yourself, baby,” Your brows shoot up in surprise at his recycling of what you had said to him earlier; heat coils in your stomach, “You realise I’ve been thinking the same way? Wondering how an old man with a kid could ever be what you would want, convincing myself I’m no good for you. Doing the same thing I watched Santi do for years with Little.”
His voice has taken on a new edge, a confidence there you hadn’t sensed before. “I want…you to be happy. I want to be happy too, Frankie.” Is all you say, and he nods once, and then his hands are running up your neck and pushing into your hair as he dips his face close to yours, half-lidded eyes a breath away.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” You reply breathlessly, and then Frankie Morales closes that gap and those plush lips seal over yours, finally. It’s perfect and you could cry with joy. He kisses you slowly, deliberate, his hands holding your head steady. Minutes pass and you have to practically gasp for air until he slowly pulls back. You both ignore the cheering you can hear coming from the beach. “Let’s go inside for some privacy.”
He considers you, “I want that. But you need to know that I want to date you, properly, once we get home.”
You tilt your head, smiling, “Oh, I was hoping what happened in Hawaii stayed in Hawaii.” Frankie laughs, and the look of pure adoration on his face is enough to make you turn to jelly. “I want that too, Frankie. I want to do this right.”
You smile at each other like lovesick kids, and then Frankie is helping you to your feet, an arm landing around your shoulders and you begin the walk back. It seems like the longest distance, now that you know you’re going inside to be alone with Frankie, and you know he feels the same–it’s almost a struggle to keep up with his fast pace on your much shorter legs. You’re grateful that everyone is either at the bonfire or relaxing in their own rooms, meeting no one as you slip upstairs together and into the quiet comfort of your room. Frankie locks the door behind you and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment as you both ready yourselves for this next part.
“Frankie I–” You pull back slightly, trembling with nerves that you see reflected in his own expression. He gives you a reassuring smile, one large hand swiping your hair back over your shoulder. “I have birth control, and I’m clean. I actually haven’t been with anyone else in a while. Just, well I’ve been so busy and there’s no time for dating and then I met you and–”
Frankie swoops forward and captures your lips against his, stopping you mid-blubber and effectively wiping your mind free of all thoughts. He kissed with a purpose, like a dance that his entire body had to move with; you weren’t just entwining your tongues, no his body was pressing to yours, a hand cupping your face and the other steadying you, pressed to your lower back. When your arms settled around his shoulders, you couldn’t resist sinking your fingers into his curls, a low groan of approval your indication that he wanted you to touch him too. It went on like this for ages, still at the door despite the entire room being available to you.
You enjoyed the conflict in the actions; frantic kissing, but no rushing towards the next part. Frankie was taking his time, and you relished in it, happy to spend the rest of the vacation in this very spot, like he was breathing oxygen into your greedy lungs just when you needed it the most. The hand on your back splays somewhat, moving up to better hold you and you can’t help the little whimper you breathe, because he’s so much bigger than you and you feel small and safe, but also incredibly turned on. It’s this that nudges him forward, only one step. He presses you harder against him and grounds his hips slightly.
You feel the hardness of him against your stomach, and your thighs clench wickedly in response. Entirely without thought, you begin to unbutton his shirt, making quick work and then lightly trailing your fingers down, stopping short at his stomach. Not by choice, but because the second you got that low, Frankie let out a snarl against your lips before his hands moved suddenly to grip the flesh of your ass. “You are so goddamn sexy, mi amor,” He sighs, his forehead pressed to yours, and you smile at him–you’re surprised he went for your ass, his hands still massaging over the fabric of your dress, a hunger glinting in his eyes.
You thought he’d go straight for your chest and forget the rest of you. You worried that even though you wanted his attention, for him to take you in every way, that he could end up like the rest and focus on your largest insecurity. Instead, he’s looking at you like you alone hung the moon, and that he’s the lucky one getting to touch you. “Frankie, please.” It’s a whispered plea that seems to awaken something in the man before you.
His entire body reacts, and you can only gasp when the world suddenly spins because he’s lifted you–tossing you gently onto the bed.
Frankie couldn’t stand it, how perfect you were yet how insecure. The fear that was etched in lines along your otherwise youthful complexion. He knew you, understood what you thought he would do, and he was determined to show you how a man could worship every inch of you properly. “Yes, baby, what do you need?” His voice is low, dripping with honey as he runs his hands up the backs of your thighs, pushing your dress up as he does. You respond with a little mewl that makes his rock hard cock twitch, and he has to unzip his pants to give himself some reprieve from the pressure. “I’ll do anything you want–walking around with this perfect body, you think I haven’t wanted to taste every inch?”
You moan aloud now, head turning to peer at him over your shoulder. Your eyes are wide, pupils blown with desire, and he can’t help but growl at the sight of you on your stomach, legs splayed and trembling for him. “Anything. Please, do anything…” You gasp, and he gives you a wicked smile before running his fingers over your panties, using one hand to tug them aside, and then he dives forward and licks you where you need him most.
The sound that escapes you is half-tortured, half-hysterical. He doesn’t relent, feasting on you like a last meal, his fingers gently prodding and pressing to ready you for his cock. He can tell you’re tight, and he doesn’t want to cause you even a moment of discomfort. Though you continue to make noise for him, it takes him a few minutes to get everything right, maximising your pleasure as he learns what you like. He can feel your legs are tense, and lifts his head slightly to peer over the curve of your ass. You have your head to the side, pressed into the mattress with your eyes tightly shut.
Frankie grunts in dismay, “No baby, you have to relax for me, that’s it, I’m not going to stop. You need to cum, alright?” He waits for you to nod and for your body to loosen, and he gives a cheek a reassuring squeeze. “Good girl.”
He feels you tighten around his fingers at the praise and makes a mental note before surging back in, licking and tasting your cunt until you’re quivering on the edge. When he senses you there, he nudges his nose through your folds and sucks at your clit, from there it’s only a second before you jerk with your orgasm. “Ohohoh!” You sigh, hands fisting the sheets, ass rocking as you pull the most pleasure from him. Frankie helps you over the edge and then eases you back down, gently kissing your inner thighs.
“So good, baby,” He murmurs, moving to his hands and knees and pressing kisses up your back, dragging your dress the rest of the way. You help him, limbs slightly shaky, and toss the dress over the side of the bed, where he also throws your underwear and his own remaining clothing. “You doing alright, mi amor?” Frankie reaches up and turns you on your back, his eyes searching your face for any sign of wanting to stop.
You lock gazes with him for a long moment and an emotion flashes over your expression, halting him. “You can look…you can touch me, Frankie. I want you to.” You say, half gesturing at your chest. And he looks now, at those perfect tits you hide behind cardigans and too-big sweaters, knowing full well that men have mistreated you in the past because of them, not meeting your eyes when you wanted them to. He scoots forward, surprisingly at ease with your eyes drifting over his naked form, the hard length of him standing proud, scars long healed from his days in combat now available for you to drink in.
“I want you to know that these are perfect,” He replies, hands trailing over your nipples, “Everything about you is. Eres tan encantadora…” He lowers his head and licks over one, then moves to the other, his eyes on your face. “I am going to fuck you all night.” He adds, and you swallow thickly, mouth slightly open as you watch him press his lips between your tits, then trail his tongue up, stopping at the column of your neck.
He positions his body over yours, careful that his cock rests near enough to your core to tease you, and you open your legs wider, inviting him as close as possible. “My body has always been mine,” Your voice is soft, the tone openly vulnerable, “It always will be, I’ve learned that. But I want you to take me, Frankie, make me yours too. I trust you.”
His heart almost stops in his chest, and he adjusts his position so that he can trace one hand over your cheek, “Mi amor, I belong to you, it’s you who takes me.” He doesn’t look away, simply adjusts himself with his free hand and slides himself through your soaked folds, then grips your hip as he sheaths himself fully inside of you. “Oh fuck.” He grunts, his head dropping now to the crook of your neck as the velvet warmth of you overwhelms him.
“Frankie, fuck,” Eyes closed, you arch for him, legs circling his waist to pull him deeper. “So big, ah!”
“That’s it baby, take what you need,” He groans in your ear, thrusting slowly as you get used to his size. When you drag his face to your, hands gripping his hair almost roughly, and kiss him again, he could drown in the feeling. It’s more erotic than earlier, the kisses now nearly aggressive with need, each of you pulling for dominance in a lust-filled game. It’s a short while later that your hips begin to move to meet his slow thrusts, a sign that you want more.
Frankie has always been good at sex–hot nights in the middle of the jungle lead to quick, passion-filled encounters once back in town with women he didn’t even know the name of. He never paid for sex, it was always consensual, women picked up at bars, and then with Elena it was always fast. She liked to take what she needed, then finish him off and leave the cuddling for the actors in movies.
But tonight he was truly making love for the first time in his life. His body felt connected to yours, like you were echoing one another’s pleasure, wanting the most for the other person. He wants you in every way and finds himself so entirely involved–like he can hear every thought in your head, guess your every need. When you let out a small whine, he can’t help but laugh against your lips, and then he’s moving and pulling you with him, delighting in the sound you make when he’s got you seated on his cock, his back against the headboard.
“That’s…wow, you’re deep Frankie,” You can barely speak, and he’s so fully entwined with you now that he can’t do more than groan in pleasure and help you begin to move on his cock, the wet sounds of your bodies no match for the noises you can pull from each other.
The world melts away in that room, hours passing as you passionately fuck, and he holds himself back from cumming, loving the way you try to do the same and fail several times. You cum like you have a secret, and he is more than happy to make it happen again and again. He puts his hands everywhere but your injury, careful to avoid the bandage, and makes notes of the places that make your eyes roll. And as time goes on, you begin to become cock-drunk, slowly revealing a more demanding part of yourself–first, you start by telling him to go harder or faster, then the dirty talk begins, and now he’s sure you aren’t going to let him bring you over the edge again alone.
There’s a note of desperation in your voice, paired perfectly with the whimpers as he fucks you from behind, one hand on your hip and the other wrapped in your hair. “Where do you want to cum, Frankie? Inside me? All over my ass?” You toss him a look over your shoulder, nearly feral and the desire to slam deep and cum inside of you is there, but he holds back. “No no, I want to taste you. Let me get down on my knees for you.”
Frankie almost cums, he really does. It’s close, and he has to rip himself back and grip the base of his cock hard–all the while you turn on the bed and grin at him in victory. “Fuck baby, you almost made me cum,” He groans, then watches in complete shock as you climb off the bed and get down on your knees next to it. You part your legs slightly, one hand dipping down to rub your clit, the other pushing your hair behind your shoulders.
“Come here, Frankie,” The most delicious demand he’d ever heard. He’s a little shaky as he gets off the bed and moves to stand tall over you. He still grips himself, wondering if he can get away with lifting you back on the bed–but you sense his plan and tilt your head back, “Please, I need your cum–”
Frankie grunts, one hand shooting out to grip your hair–he’s gentle, but you only grin wider and open your mouth. “You little–oh fuck–” He can’t stop himself, because you tremble and he sees that you begin to cum on your fingers, feels how his hand is half the reason you’re still sitting upright. He cuts off in a guttural moan and fists his hand over his cock, and then he’s giving you exactly what you wanted.
You make happy noises as he comes across your lips, then again down your chin and over those perky tits. He hears himself moaning, but he loses the rest as he watches you lick your lips, then surge forward and take the tip of him into your eager little mouth. He didn’t think he had anymore left in him, but he’s shooting down your throat now and it’s all he can do to keep standing. He finally pulls you back, spent, and almost starts cumming again at the sight of you covered in his cum, breathless from swallowing around his cock.
“Mi amor,” He growls, recovering enough to bend down and pick you up, placing you back onto the bed and then falling to lay next to you. It takes several moments to catch your breaths. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?” He asks you eventually, rolling onto his side to survey you with concern.
You give a little laugh, “Am I okay? No, I’ll never be okay again after that, Frankie Morales. That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” You say, and he blushes at the compliment, a surge of pride making the slight pain in his back dull. “How was that for you?”
There’s an edge of uncertainty he immediately works to dispel, first kissing you gently before pulling back with a warm smile. “I will remember this night for the rest of my life. You are amazing,” He takes one of your hands in his, “The best night of my life was the night Rosie was born. Nothing has ever come close, and I thought that was it for me–my happiness is Rosie, and that alone was more than I deserved. She is more than I deserve,” Frankie speaks slowly, ensuring that you hear every word, “I never thought that–even if I did admit how I feel about you, Star–that you would feel the same. You are the best person I have ever been lucky enough to know, and this night was…it’s the only one that has ever brought me as much happiness as that night Ro was born. I don’t know if I even deserve this, but I want a million more nights with you, mi amor.”
He then drops his gaze to rake slowly down every curve of your body, placing his fingers where he came on your chest as he tries to convey how he feels for you. When you shiver, he knows he’s on the mark, and he smiles at you for a long time when he looks back into your eyes.
“I think I just fell in love with you, Frankie Morales.” His heart swells with emotion and you shift closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
“Welcome to my world,” He replies, your name intimate on his tongue. “Now let me take care of cleaning you up, I’m sure I can get you to cum a few more times…”
Frankie woke with a start, his head jerking up from the pillow as he clocked the sound of Rosie’s early morning whimpers. He’s confused at first, because she had stayed with Little and Santi the evening before, but when he finds where the noise is coming from, he is swept by that feeling he kept experiencing the night before.
You stand a few feet from the door, having just returned to the room with Rosie, wrapped in one of the provided robes. You have her head tucked under your chin and you’re speaking softly, soothing words with no real meaning to keep her calm. The golden sun streams through the shutters that were never fully closed the night before, and though he aches all over from making love to you for hours, he really never has been happier in his life.
The woman he loves, holding his child, comforting her without hesitation. You must have woken before him and realised that Rosie hadn’t seen him since the night before, gone to find her while he continued to snooze. He watches you quietly, drinking in the way you run your fingers through her hair, press soft kisses to the crown, and appear entirely at ease. It isn’t until you begin to climb back into bed that you finally look at Frankie, and you pause in surprise when you see him awake.
“Oh no, I woke you, sorry Frankie,” You say quietly, but all he does is shake his head and reach toward you. You make to pass Rosie to him, but he shakes his head abruptly and you slide closer, a small smile appearing now, and snuggle as close as possible with the sleeping toddler between you. When you’ve settled comfortably, Rosie content in the middle, you lay your head on his pillow and sigh happily.
Frankie settles one hand over Rosie where it joins yours, and runs the other across your cheek, “I could get used to this, mi amor,” He admits, and you nod in agreement, eyes twinkling with happiness he feels as well, right to his core. “Thank you.”
You frown slightly, “For what?”
“For loving me, I suppose.”
The frown softens, kind eyes filled with emotion as you reach for him, pressing a soft kiss to his nose, “Frankie, you are so easy to love.”
And even after so many years feeling the opposite, of doubting himself because of who he is and what he’s done, Frankie believes you. He believes that you love him, that’s it’s easy for you because you were always meant to be his. And truly, Frankie knows he has always belonged to you.
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Follow up Series to Little. — Frankie Morales had gone through a lot in the last few years. First, he gets his ex pregnant around the same time he dabbles in cocaine, unable to deal with the PTSD he suffered from since retiring from the Special Forces. He gets clean, only to find that Elena doesn’t want anything to do with him—or the beautiful baby girl she brings into the world.
Now a single father, Frankie leans heavily on his best friends and mother for support raising Rosie, the light of his life. And then Little introduces him to you, and he’s smitten at the first bashful bat of your eyelashes. When Santi and Little get engaged, Frankie is asked to be the best man, a duty which requires him to plan and work closely with the maid of honour—you. Nicknamed Star for your talented singing voice, you’re one of the most incredible women he’s ever gotten to know.
Too bad both Frankie and Star are too shy to confront their feelings. But they do say, weddings are the most romantic occasions…
Summary: Star is content to spend time alone relaxing (and daydreaming about Frankie) after Little and Santi’s destination wedding. But toddler Rosie Morales ensures that’s not how the vacation goes…
Warnings: Language, adult themes, injury, mention of blood, (eventual smut).
A/N: Here we go, part one of the follow up to my Little mini series! Can’t wait to hear your thoughts!!
You dreamt of Frankie Morales when you went to sleep. The way his eyes fixed on you as you sang with Santi on the beach, his gaze warm and kind. How he had looked in his suit, and then how handsomely disheveled he became as the night wore on until he was rid of his tie, a few buttons undone, revealing the tan, hair-speckled chest beneath. How gently he’d held you as you danced together, as though he thought you were delicate and his large hands had to be extra careful.
The sunshine woke you late the morning after the wedding, golden rays filtering through the California shutters you forgot to properly close in your haste to fall face-first into bed when the reception had wrapped up. You were naked, save for your underwear, and a quick pass of your hand over your face reminded you that you had managed to wash away the makeup before going to bed. When you finally rise from the luxurious sheets and pad to the en-suite bathroom, you see your pretty dress pooled on the floor, a set of false lashes next to it, and your heels kicked against the nearest wall.
It looked as though you had evaporated, and you laughed to yourself before freshening up. You took time to hang your dress, then changed into a comfortable lounge set. You stared at yourself in the mirror for a few minutes, eyes drawn to your chest.
You had promised yourself that this week was a vacation, where you were staying among friends, and that meant you didn’t need to wear your usual bras. You could get away with wearing this looser, insanely comfortable sports bra. But as you gazed at your reflection, you felt that twist of self-consciousness that always arrived just before you were to be around others. Your chest had been the biggest, in every sense, target for bullies growing up. And now as an adult woman, it was all the men seemed to find interesting about you.
Usually, once they stopped admiring your tits, they didn’t stick around much longer.
This was one of the many reasons that had brought Little and you close when you went to school together. She was beautiful, curvy and busty and unapologetic—you adored her confidence, her determination to ignore the ‘standards’ and just be herself. And she sensed your anxieties pretty quickly, promptly spending the formative four years of university encouraging you to love yourself, pulling you out of your comfort zone at times. And she was just there for you, supporting and loving you no matter what.
But her confidence only rubbed off so much, and while you looked at yourself now and saw a gorgeous figure, you still cared too much about what others thought when they looked at you. It was impossible to completely ignore the intrusive thoughts, especially when, time after time, men usually proved to be thinking exactly what you suspected them of. You had been ‘accidentally’ groped or brushed against too many times to count, which was why you had formed the habit of wearing constricting bras and avoiding low-cut shirts. You wanted to fully love yourself, but sometimes you thought it would just be easier to get a reduction and slink into the background.
You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard some laughter filter in from outside your open windows and promptly pushed away your concerns—it was vacation. You weren’t looking at a normal bra for seven more days.
Based on the direction of the laughter and voices, you guessed there was a larger group in the kitchen and dining room now. Santi had done a great job on securing this place because it came with everything—even a large staff dedicated to attending to all the guests’ needs. You had poured over the online brochure for the AirBnB during the flight to Hawaii, and know that there was a number you could text for room service. You found the number, already saved into your phone, and ordered a light breakfast and dark coffee. When it arrived, you happily wheeled the cute breakfast cart out onto your private balcony and relaxed with a podcast as you ate and watched the earlier risers settle in on the beach.
The balcony had dividers between it and the rooms on either side, but they didn’t fully extend so you could, in theory, walk next door. But Little, in all her match-making efforts, put your room right next to Frankie’s, stating it was ideal for the best man and maid of honour to be close to one another. And while she wasn’t technically, wrong, you still knew her well enough to know that wasn’t her primary motive.
She had sensed the chemistry between you and her friend straight away, but you denied it at first. You’d almost walked into a wall when you had first seen him at the wedding of a mutual friend he, Santi and the Millers had also attended, but you knew immediately who he was and that he was certainly not going to be interested in a much younger woman. He had a kid, for fuck’s sakes. But the more you got to know Frankie, the harder it became to deny that there was something there between you. And the harder you had fallen.
It hadn’t helped that, for the last six or so months, you’d been helping her plan her wedding. Which meant that you and Frankie saw a lot of one another. Eventually, you had started texting on the regular—always about the wedding, even if sometimes it evolved into sending memes back and forth or making jokes at your engaged friend’s expense. And you might have sent him a dozen-ish photos of your rescue pit bulls, Anna and Elsa, while he sent cute shots of Rosie being adorable.
You were friends, it was normal banter really. Even if every time he messaged you, a warm sensation would fill your belly it was entirely platonic.
You’re sipping on the final dregs of your coffee when Little appears below, holding a large mug in hand and appearing to be speaking. You pull your AirPods out and stand, catching her eye.
She grins up at you, “Morning, Star!”
“Oh, good morning Mrs. Garcia!”
She giggles at this, and Santi steps into view and spins to look up at you, his grin an extension of Little’s. You don’t miss the way his hand secures to her lower back. “That’s the first time today anyone has said that! I love the sound of it.”
Little rolls her eyes at her husband, then adds to you, “We’re going to relax at our little cabana on the beach, come join us whenever okay?” She gestures over her shoulder, where a small, mint-painted beach cabana sits among the spattering of shaded loungers.
“You’ll see me once I’ve had my second cup of coffee. I’m still recovering.”
Little and Santi laugh, send you friendly waves and make their way along the path, away from the concrete and grass surrounding the infinity pool and into the sand. You watch them with a small smile, your heart swelling with happiness at the sight. Little had been in love with Santa for a very long time, and when she’d called to tell you they had gotten together because she’d overheard him admitting his feelings over the phone—to Frankie, no less— you had been over the moon for them both. Helping her plan this wedding was one of the great honours you could have been given.
You contemplate the rest of your morning because in reality there is a lot to do. Or a great number of places to go ahead and do nothing, including a tranquillity room, movie theatre, onsite RMT, steam room, private beach, pool and hot tub—the list went on. It was paradise, and you were momentarily overwhelmed with all of the options laid out before you. You had to remind yourself that you had seven days left to enjoy this place, so you didn’t need to get all of your relaxing squished into one day. You decide to make your way down for another coffee, changing so that your bathing suit is on under your lounge set, the green of the suit peeking out from beneath your peach-coloured shirt and shorts. You pack a bag with the essentials, including a book, water bottle and sunglasses, and head for the kitchen.
You give your room a final once over, ensuring you haven’t left a big mess for the housekeeper. It is a beautiful room, filled with rattan furniture and live plants, soft white linens and orange accents throughout. The bathroom is open to the bedroom area, the only thing hidden behind a door was the toilet itself, so you could see the large soaker tub and tiled shower, and couldn’t wait to take advantage of both later that day.
As you wander downstairs, happy that you can’t hear any voices, you think of Anna and Elsa. This was the first trip you’d taken since rescuing them two years before, and though you trusted your veterinarian parents to care for them perfectly, you still ached for them and wished they could understand why you had left, that you’d be back before they knew it.
When your turn the corner at the bottom of the stairs, you barely take two steps before slamming into a wall. The wall grunts, hands shooting out to steady you as you reel back in surprise, and you look up to find a tousle-haired Frankie standing before you.
Oh, Christ. He looks good.
“Shit, sorry Frankie!”
He smiles at you shyly, a hand reaching to rub the back of his neck. “No worries. How are you?”
He still hasn’t taken a step back, though neither had you for that matter, and you catch his masculine scent now; an intoxicating blend of freshly mown grass and cedar. “I was worried that Rosie wouldn’t sleep well, being in a new place,” He replies, his smile widening, “But she’s taken to it fine, which means I’m sleeping well. So I’m great, how are you?”
You laugh, happy for him because, with all he had been through with his ex, you knew he deserved to relax more than anyone. You remember suddenly what you’re wearing and blanch because your figure is more accentuated in this outfit, but his eyes haven’t strayed from your face for even a beat. Whether he finds you attractive or not, you appreciate how Frankie was a true gentleman.
“I’m really good, thanks. Slept like the dead, now I’m going for another coffee to take down to the beach.”
“I’ll see you there in a little bit. My mom and Rosie are on the same nap schedule,” He lowers his voice teasingly, and you giggle. You try not to notice how his eyes brighten. “I’m just going to wake them up, and then I want to take Ro swimming.”
You nod, “Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you soon, in that case.” You part ways from him and resist turning to watch him make his way up the stairs. It wasn’t about checking him out; you just really liked looking at Frankie, memorizing the ways he moved, the expressions on his face, what made him laugh.
Yes, you had it bad for the man.
You’re relaxing in your lounger, grateful for the shaded canopy and enormously comfortable cushions, reading one of several books you’d brought on the trip. Others filter by, most saying hello but giving you your space. Recognizing that as maid of honour, you were more than due for a good rest.
Benny stops by on his way to tease Little and Santi, who are swimming in the blue ocean water, and you end up having a fun conversation with him. You’re retelling one another the best moments of the night before, and agreeing on the parts you hope made it onto the wedding video—and the ones you hoped didn’t. You’ve always really liked Benny, he seemed to sense the type of person you were in that same way that Little had, and he had a way of making you feel normal. Where you and Will had a friendly enough relationship, Benny felt more like a brother. Protective and encouraging and just really nice.
When Will comes along, he says hi to you before Benny—who gives you a quick hug—leaps to his feet and bounds towards his brother, ready to wrestle in the water. You laugh, watching them dunk one another, then a large splash hits Little and Santi jumps into the tussle, and your friend makes her way out of the water shaking her head in exasperation. When she plops down next to you on the lounger, you’re both snorting with laughter.
“It’s like they’re twelve. Santi literally said ‘don’t be a butthead’ to Benny,” Little giggles, and you both watch them for another minute before she turns to you and lowers her voice. “So, how are you doing today?”
“I’m supposed to ask you that, Mrs. Newlywed.”
Little doesn’t take the bait, and you never expected she would. “You know what I mean, Star. Are you having fun? Can I do anything for you?” This was the thing about Little. She was not just a good friend, she was a thoughtful and caring one, the kind that you could call at midnight and ask to move a body and she’d show up with shovels. Which was basically what had cemented your friendship several years before, though you weren’t going to think about that right now. You were on vacation.
You lean in and press your forehead to hers briefly, “This place is incredible, I’m extremely happy. Please stop worrying.”
“I just…I know you never get time for yourself. Or to have some fun and unwind,” She takes hold of your hand and applies light pressure, “I know you have busy shifts with the rescue, long hours. I just want this week to give you the break you deserve—the wedding was absolutely perfect and that’s in great part because of you, Star.” At this, you sigh softly and pull her in for a proper hug.
She was right that you barely had time for yourself, you worked a lot at the rescue as a vet tech, a job you loved and wouldn’t change for anything. You were hoping to get a couple of new techs hired and trained so that you could reduce your hours in the next year or so, but it wasn’t an urgent thing. You just wanted a little more free time, because currently, you were operating on hardly any, always either working, sleeping or making your way to and from work. Around the time that Little had asked you to be her maid of honour, you had made the permanent switch to daytime shifts, and your life had greatly improved with the steady routine.
But you still had a dismal social life, only occasionally going out with Little or spending time with your parents. And dating? You literally would have to give up sleep to bother with it, and since you were hung up on a man completely out of your league, that wasn’t happening anytime soon either. So you understood her concerns entirely.
“Little,” You pull back from the hug and give her an encouraging smile, “You don’t need to be so worried, I’m having fun. I’ll try to socialize, I promise.”
She grins back at you, then glances down at your outfit, “Is that the swimsuit we picked out together?” She’s beaming with pride that you’ve worn it, and you shrug with a smirk pulling at your lips.
Little coaxes you into the water, and after applying another layer of sunscreen and ridding yourself of your clothing, you follow her into the cool ocean. You love the water and sink into it quickly as you glance back toward the beach, instinctively seeking out who might have seen you in your swimsuit. Will and Benny are sitting in beach chairs in the shallow water, deep in discussion, while Santi is back at the cabana, cracking open a drink. His eyes are on Little in that rapturous, protective way that makes your heart swell with joy for them. They were perfect for each other, there was no way around that.
You spend a good half an hour swimming and chatting with Little, who tells you about the new woman in Benny’s life that he’s insisted is just a friend, but she suspects there may be more to it. And when it came to Benny, both of you knew that if he was feeling something for someone, he would deny it. He liked to be the bachelor, the ladies man because he was afraid of commitment. You tell Little that he just needs to find the person he won’t be afraid of doing anything for.
Eventually, her brothers grow bored and begin taking turns jumping off the end of the dock situated at one end of the beach. You aren’t surprised when Little takes your hand and leads you out of the water, eager to join in on the fun. You let her pull you along, happy to break out of your comfort zone and, other than her brothers and Santi, no one else is around. You glance back to see if he’s coming to join in and almost stumble in the sand.
Frankie is standing with Santi, his eyes locked on you as he speaks with his friend. Rosie is in his arms in a cute little one-piece swimsuit that has the Little Mermaid on the front, and she’s craning her neck to look towards the noise the boys are making on the dock. But all you can focus on is how Frankie watches you, even as you meet his gaze, and you feel heat flood your cheeks. “Jesus,’ You turn away as you speak, and Little looks at you, eyes searching your face before she looks back.
“Oh,man, Frankie looks like he got hit over the head. You realize that you look like a goddess right now, Star?” She slows her pace so that she can keep her voice quiet, her head leaning closer to yours.
You scoff, “Please, Little,” But she cuts off your protests before you can even begin.
“He looks at you like that all of the time. Like you hung the moon,” You glance back at him again, trying not to look too obvious, and find that he is making his way over to the dock now too, being tugged along by a giggling Rosie, her little feet sinking into the sand. Looking away, you smile to yourself, but you can feel Frankie’s eyes on you, your senses in overdrive, and you wish you could be brave enough to just look around and smile at him. Toss a flirty wink, just like Little would do with Santi.
But you were no Little (Miller) Garcia. And Frankie Morales was most definitely not interested in you. You try to ignore the swell of misery within—Frankie was the perfect man. The universe seemed to enjoy dangling him in front of you, showing you everything you wished you could have was just out of reach.
The Miller brothers make more noise at the end of the dock as you and Little step onto the warm wood, drawing your attention their way as they do elaborate jumps into the water. You gaze along the side of the dock, into the shallow water, where you can see several large rocks piled. There’s a little sign on one of the dock posts here, advising to walk along this first section, and you can see an orange line painted across the dock just ahead, the indicator that the water deepens and clears starting there. You’re so focused on the line that you lose track of your feet and stub your toe on a slightly raised plank, hissing in pain.
You pause and bend to inspect it, ensuring there are no slivers. “All good?” Little says, patting your arm with concern, and you smile at her, opening your mouth to respond.
When Frankie’s panic-stricken voice cuts through the air, you both turn in alarm. He’s at the end of the dock, now rushing forward because Rosie had pulled from his grip and was darting toward Little happily, her giggles in stark contrast to the horror on Frankie’s face. She’s not much of a runner at her age, so Rosie teeters back and forth in a way that would be adorable if it weren’t for how close she was to the edge that drop into the rocky shallows.
“Rosie stop!” Frankie’s voice is strained in an effort not to sound too scary to his daughter as he yells, but she glances backward anyway, her legs still moving, and you react before you think. It’s probably because you’d spent years dodging kicks and bites and swats from your animal patients, that your reflexes work the way they do.
Frankie isn’t as fast as you, and you have the advantage because she’s moving towards you and Little—you shoot forward as fast as you can, and just as she sees her dad chasing her and loses her footing at the edge, you drop down and shove your arms out, catching her in the chest so that she’s knocked toward Frankie.
You see him catch her, hear her confused whimper, but the momentum you created darting toward her so quickly gives you no ability to correct yourself, and you skitter, then plunge right off the dock, falling face down into the water.
You hear the way your leg smacks off of a pointed rock, and then pain is lancing through your face as it glances off of another one. You’re dazed, but still aware enough to feel the splinter of pain in your thigh, and you cry out—only you’re underwater, so it’s garbled and you push your hands out to try and get your bearings and raise yourself—
“Mi amor estas bien?” Frankie’s rumbling voice fills your ears as he lifts you, turning you in the water before pulling you up and into his arms, and you don’t even register what he said, really, but you lock onto the fierce concern in his expression and the words begin to sink in. “Cariño? Jesus Christ, Santi get the first aid kit!” He yells, and you feel him moving out of the water and tilt your head, looking down your body.
You can see the brutal gash on your leg, and immediately recognize it’s not as bad as it could have been—but it gushes a decent amount of blood, and it stings from the saltwater and you whimper again.
“F-Frankie—is Rosie-?”
“Cariño, she’s perfect thanks to you,” You look at him again, surprised at the strain in his voice. He sounds wrecked, and you want to ask him if he’s okay but you don’t know how, and something about the way he’s holding you as he carries you—your instincts say that he’s not okay, and to let him take charge here. He reaches a lounger and begins to lower you down carefully, but your leg is jostled and the pain peaks; you start to cry, short sobs that you try to hide—Frankie makes a noise in his throat, and then his hands are cupping your face gently. “Mi amor, I’ve got you, I’ll take care of you. Please don’t cry.”
You stare at Frankie because this time, the words smack you right in the face and you can see that he means them. That he called you his love, twice now, and as you realize this, you see understanding flash in his expression and he doesn’t correct himself or try to deny it. Instead, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, and then the others are surrounding you and a first aid kit appears and you can only slump back and cover your face.
The man of your dreams just said something that might change your life, but you couldn’t do shit about it right now. And then realization sets in that you just fell off a dock in front of him, and you want to die of humiliation.
You tilt your head to look away and your eyes land on Little, who has Rosie in her arms and one hand over her mouth—but you recognize the way she’s trying to hide her smug smile, and you glare at your friend. Her expression changes, and even though she doesn’t speak, you know exactly what she’s saying.
‘I told you Frankie loved you, didn’t I?’
Please consider commentingandreblogging if you enjoyed this story YOUR FEEDBACK IS GOLDEN!!!
Summary: Frankie is secretly in love with his best friend. Thanks in part to Benny’s shitty horror movie recommendation and stray ice cream, feelings come out unexpectedly during movie night.
Warnings: Language, SMUT, little angst, lots of fluff, poor writer understanding of US military benefits/retirement. WC 8,215.
A/N: I dreamed this up after rewatching Triple Frontier about a month ago (for the plot, of course) and let it sit for a while. Became inspired to finish it off this week and share it with you all-so please let me know your thoughts!
For over a decade, Saturday nights were, for Frankie Morales, usually spent with his best friends over drinks at their favourite bar. When deployed, the bar was instead smuggled whiskey that they shared under the stars, an attempt to imagine they were anywhere other than the current hellhole. As Special Ops soldiers, Frankie and his buddies had been through the worst of the worst together, until one by one they retired or were forced to retire, and then they were back to regular appearances at the local bar, for a while the five of them, then four.
Until Frankie met you.
Had someone come up to him during one of those nights years before and told Frankie that one day he’d be bringing you along to the bar to join him and the guys, he’d have laughed in their faces. But for a while, that was exactly what occurred, until you and Frankie grew so close that you usually ended up making different plans, like going mini-golfing, or lounging at his apartment and watching movies. Not that you didn’t love the guys, all whom you’d met except for Santi as he had been off the grid for just over a year when you and Frankie had met.
It was thanks to the elder Miller brother, Will, that he had even met you at all. Working at the VA office, Will had learned of one of the few retirement perks they had for putting their asses on the line for their country-physical therapy. And you came highly recommended, a star PT who had worked magic over his friends’ ailments. Knowing Frankie suffered from shoulder and neck pains, Will handed him your card and encouraged him to book an appointment.
He hadn’t called straight away. He’d popped your card onto his fridge and every day he’d pass by it, consider calling, and then talk himself out of it. Until the pain became too much to bear, his latest menial job just a little too physical for him, causing him to consider using again just to dull the ache. But he’d walked by your card moments later and instead of making a terrible decision he had promised himself he’d never make again, he called your office. Made an appointment with your friendly receptionist, who thankfully had his name already because Will had put in a good word for Frankie and asked that they try and get him in straight away, whenever he finally did call.
Two days later Frankie was standing nervously in the treatment room, looking at a wall decorated with your various degrees and certificates. He was anxious not only because he worried he’d get his hopes up that this would help the pain only to be disappointed, but also because he had no idea what to expect. Years of service as a pilot had made Frankie into a man who planned, meticulously, leaving little in the way of surprises. But he’d reasoned that calling the office back and demanding they give him a minute-by-minute account of what the appointment would be like was probably going too far.
And then you had walked in and immediately his worries morphed into concern over the fact that he required a beard trim, that he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and popped his usual cap on, probably appearing a little gruff. And fuck, he almost couldn’t breathe when you gave him the most dazzling, genuine smile like you were greeting an old friend. You were bright, a rare energy radiating off of you as though you absorbed it straight from the fucking sun, and you were beautiful. No wonder Will had winked at Frankie when he’d handed you the business card.
You were observant, introducing yourself and seemingly sensing his overall discomfort. Instead of launching straight to business, you gestured for him to sit and spent a good twenty minutes casually chatting, pulling information you needed from him while putting him at ease entirely. He learned then that Will had already sung Frankie’s praises, given you the heads up that he was a worrier and even told a few stories that showcased his talents as a pilot.
If Frankie didn’t know any better, he’d think his friend was trying to play matchmaker.
I love the way you weave the story, letting them grow together and form this beautiful friendship as a cornerstone.
And adding Colombia into it makes it even more special and I think those moments are my favorite here. Especially the bath where it all comes down. It feels so cathartic and beautiful and I felt like I was in the bath with him, all the emotions washing over me.
I’m also in love with Frankie’s inner thoughts and how he tries to keep himself from not doing anything stupid or something that would endanger his friendship, his light. That gorgeous angst just tugs at my heart and I think it’s gorgeous!
❤️Wow, thank you for the thoughtful reblog love! I’m so happy you enjoyed part one of this mini-series! Frankie will always have a place in my heart! ❤️
summary: Frankie almost insists on being there for you on a bad day, and your response is more than welcomed.
word count: 2.1k
WARNINGS: period sex (vague descriptions of periods implicitly). 18+ ONLY!!!
DISCLAIMER: this is in no way a depiction of how all periods feel. people who menstruate feel it differently. this is more or less drawn from my own experience.
Gratitude and relief were a bit further of your list of reasons to be happy today.
And if you were completely honest, the list was incredibly short as it was.
You woke up feeling cramps and you already felt the impending doom waiting to take over your body. Surely enough, half hour later you were rushing to the bathroom with a pad in your hand and what you liked to call “the emergency granny panties”, the familiar yet ever annoying pressure in your belly persisting.
Displeased grunts filled the bathroom, much to Frankie’s surprise. He knocked on the door, barely daring to press his ear on the door, let alone insist on walking in on you.
This was a beautiful and delicious birthday present for me from my beloved other braincell, Ariana and I love it just as much as I loved it the first time reading it and just as frankie baby loves his woman
