Warnings: SMUT, making out, oral sex (m and f receiving), PinV sex, hand jobs, voyeurism, mentions of PTSD, mild angst, mentions of Marcus’ late wife as well as fluff, sweetness, affection, polyamory, M/M and M/F smut ahead as well as group sex because everyone is in love with everyone here
Summary/Notes: So here it is: my first throuple fic!!! I’ve been wanting to write one forever and once I decided on Frankie and Marcus the words started flowing! I love poly fics and thought the fandom could use more. I recognize this won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but I hope those who like it do enjoy! And I am very much open to writing more for them in the future if anyone is interested. As always, likes, comments, reblog appreciated!!
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It’s such a relief every time Frankie pulls in the driveway and sees both your and Marcus’ cars already in their spots. He hops out and goes inside, excited to see everyone after his latest appointment. His road to recovery has been hard, harder at times than he thought he could stand. But knowing you and Marcus and Missy were at home, rooting for him? It’s kept him going on some of the toughest days and nights he’s ever experienced.
He’s brought out of his reminiscing when he opens the door and you’re walking through the living room with a basket of folded laundry. When you hear him coming in, you set the basket down and immediately jog over to him to embrace him without a word. Frankie relaxes immediately in your hold and buries his nose in your neck, breathing deep.
You don’t say anything while he leans against you, letting him get himself reacquainted with being home after the emotional upheaval that therapy always brings. He lets you know it’s okay to talk by lifting his head enough to press his lips to your cheek, planting a firm kiss there just for you.
“How was it?” you ask, watching his expression up close now that he’s looking at you.
“Good,” he says with a sigh, “hard. But we’re making progress.”
You grin at him and lean in to give him a sweet kiss on his plush lips, gasping a little when he presses his hand into your lower back so you’re flush against each other. You don’t get a chance to say anything else because Missy comes bursting into the room, proclaiming dinner is ready and she’s hungry.
