#bottom francisco morales

[romana-after-dark]

Apple

Bisexual!Dark!Santiago Garcia x fem!reader Bisexual!Dark!Frankie Morales x fem!readr Bisexual!Dark!William Miller x fem! reader

Masterlist : Taglist : Read on AO3

Summary: Based on an request. I took a little liberty here and there. You are married to Santi and you and him dabble in CNC scenes. This time, Santi enlists the help of Will and Frankie. Slowly, things start to devolve, and things get heated between the three men that was not discussed prior. This culminates when you try to safeword and you find Will's fingers in your mouth.

Contenant And Warnings: WARNINGS! DDDNE!: CNC FANASY BUT IT TURNS NON CON, DONT BE FOOLED. This is not simple a cnc scene. Safe word is stopped and ignored. Acts happen between the men that while not involving read, reader did not consent to her husband engaging in sexual acts with anyone other than her. Santi is a little mean to Frankie but Frankie is into degrading. Dick too big to take, bisexual madness, calling Frankie a puppy, desperate and needy Frankie, unintentional edging and premature ejaculation, bukkake, penetration before properly wet. IDK I feel like there should be more? LMK if I missed anything.

*I do not take requests, but if you have ideas, I'm happy to hear them and might end up using it if it speaks to me*

**********************

It all had started out as a simple fantasy, something you played with at night if Santi was gone or asleep; his life keeping him out at odd hours. Google said it was normal, having a rape fantasy; or non con/dub con as fanfiction called it, but in the real world it was just rape. Now, you didn’t want to be raped, let’s make that clear, and your husband was not a rapist, but the two of you had played around with some scenes where you were ‘forced’. Of course, the two of you always had safe words and signals that you weren’t afraid to use. You loved Santi dearly, he was everything to you and you appreciated that you could be open about your fantasies with him.

The idea had also been tossed around of sharing you with the guys. Santi’s best friend, Frankie, and the two Miller brothers were like family to you now, and you couldn’t deny they were all attractive, especially the older brother, Will. Will was tall, not as tall as Benny, but close, and he made up for it with insanely broad shoulders. He was handsome with kind eyes and you couldn’t deny you had wanted him mostly of all. Santi confirmed all the guys found you attractive as well. The sex hadn’t manifested yet, but after sharing a specific fantasy of yours, Santi had suggested this was the perfect opportunity to start.

 Now, having all 4 of them would be a lot, so Santi talked to the guys first. Will and Frankie were interested, Benny was out. He said he was in for another scenario, but CNC just wasn’t his scene, no judgment.

The fantasy was simple. A home invasion. You weren’t going to know what day, but you’d go to bed with Santi as usual and wake up to 3 masked men beginning their assault on you. You had a safe word, of course: apple . You’d use that if you needed to.

Finally, the night came. Santi had given no clues as to when it would be, but you had assumed it would be night you didn’t work the next day. Generally, you hated your sleep interrupted, especially when you worked, so Santi planned it when you could sleep in nice and good the next day. Santi kissed you goodnight, cuddling you up in his arms like most nights and you fell asleep in his loving embrace.

You woke up to a gag in your mouth and hands pinned to the bed. You tried screaming, but only half-heartedly. You recognized Frankie’s soft curls around the handkerchief over his face, and knew right away what was going on. It was finally happening. 

A firm hand slapped you before gripping your cheeks, forcing you to your husbands eyes. Will must be the one holding you down. “No need for that, bebecita” He chided. “We won’t hurt you if you behave, can you do that?”

This part was discussed, you were to keep quiet so they could take the gag out, allowing you to use the safe word if needed. Frankie was sitting back on his haunches between you spread open legs, looking hungrily between your barely clothed sex in your lacy underwear. You nodded for anti and he pulled down the gag, allowing you to get full breaths in as Frankie caressed your soft thighs. 

“Please,” You beg them. “You can take what you want, please don’t hurt me! I have a husband.” 

Frankie pulled down his sweat, freeing his massive cock from his pants and god, it lived up to the rumors. Big-dick Morales’s size was legendary, and you were getting wet just thinking about it.

“Oh baby, we’ll be taking what we want, don’t you worry.” He leaned in close, mouth up against your cheek. “You.” He nodded to Frankie, and with his leader's permission, Frankie pulled your panties aside and unceremoniously thrust into you in one go. You gasp, the air knocked out of you as you swear you felt him in your diaphragm. You weren’t properly wet and it stung, Frankies neediness taking over forethought for your preparation… but you adjust. You hear Will chuckle above you.

“Look at her, Fish. She can barely take you, how’s she supposed to take me?” 

Oh. What’s that supposed to mean?

Frankie’s thrusts were desperate, his body folding over you in a whine as he ruts into you like a dog, panting like one too. “F-fuck, so pretty, so tight… o-ohmygooood.”

“Fuck her good, Frank” Santi demanded at the bedside. “Stretch her out for Will, don’t fucking cum yet.” What did Santi know that you didn’t? Was Will bigger than Frankie? How was that possible, and how could that even fit? Will’s grip was bruising at your wrists, his hips shifting and you could feel the head of his cock rubbing against where your head lay against his lap.

“Mmmhmm” Frankie moans. “I dunno if I can hold on much longer, Pope… please”

“Fish” Sternly, Santi warns him. “Don’t you fucking dare.” His hand skims over Frankie’s sweaty, bare back.

“Pope, I ca- ooohhhhh ” With a pathetic whine, Frankie’s hips stuttered and stalled inside you, filling you up with his warmth.

“God fucking dammit Frankie!” Santi shouted in faux anger, yanking Frankie off you and shoving him to lay on the. “Lay their and get yourself hard again, you pathetic old man. Will, help me flip her. Frankie’s going to watch.” The pressure from your wrists was released, and before you knew it the pair had moved you to your hands and knee.

Santi slid in without any problems, Frankie having stretched you out good, and Santi wasn’t small by any means either. “Your poor stretched out little hole.” Santi shoved your face in between Will’s legs, forcing you to feel his hardness even though his pants as he pumped you full. “Where’s your husband now, little girl? He still gonna want you after find out you let 3 strange men fuck you?” Above you, you could hear a wet smacking… were Santi and Will… No, he wouldn’t. You hadn’t discussed Santi kissing or touching others… he wouldn't do that without talking to you.

Santi was more deliberate in his movements. As your husband, he knew just where you hit to make out cry out; the sounds muffled by Will, Will’s musk in your nose as he thrust his hips at you for stimulation.

“Desperate girl.” Will mocked you. “I can hear your wet pussy from here.”

Frankie groaned, and Santi turned to see him just where he left him, on his back on the bed with his cock fully hard again in his hand. Santi grabbed your hair, pulling you up. “Will, take off your pants. Frankie, you weren’t very nice, were you? Not making her cum. Come give her a kiss to say sorry.”

Santi was on the verge of making you cum, your wall tightening up quickly as Frankie’s unintentional edging. Frankie crawling over to where Santi had forced your face to turn as he fucked you and did as he was told, kissing you sloppily. He was a good kisser, no holds barred, exploring your mouth with his skilled tongue and it felt like he was trying to devour you. You soon realize Santi’s intentions. Santi always had a plan, you see, every move was deliberate, intentional. You feel a new hand replace Santi’s and open your eyes to see Will’s hand fisted into Frankie’s curls as well. He held you both together as he knelt naked in front of you in all his golden god-like glory, pressing his hard member two your two pairs of lips.

“Fuuuuck” Will groaned deeply. “Yeah, make it nice and wet.” You continued making out with Frankie around Will’s thrusting cock when you finally came.

Everyone could feel when you did, Santi from your pulsing cunt to Frankie and Will from the way your jaw went slack, cumming so hard you collapse onto the bed, leaving Frankie to take Will’s cock. 

“FUCK!” Santi pulled out quickly when you came, gripping both your ass cheeks and smacking them as he breathed heavy, trying not to cum. He couldn’t very well cum when he had chided Frankie for doing so. Not when he had a plan. “Enough of that.” By your hair, Santi pulled you up right, sucking bruises into your neck with his still-hard cock nestled between your ass cheeks. “Frankie, get on the ground, on your knees.” He continued playing with your body as Frankie moved, Will taking his place next to Santi. “Such a pretty little captive.” Santi shoved you back down, telling Will to do what he liked and he climbed off the bed.

Santi fisted his hands in Frankie’s hair and soon a room was filled with the soft gluck gluck gluck of Frankie getting throated. “Good puppy.” He praised. What was happening? Since when had your husband been gay? Why was he doing all these things you hadn't agreed too? You would have said yes, of course… but why didn’t he just ask?

Will, however, was taking his time. Always a patient man, he went last for a reason. He took his time undressing you fully, his heavy cock twitching in anticipation. “Beautiful, beautiful….” he murmured in reverence, fingers trailing all the way down your naked body. “I’ll go slow, princess. I promise.” He did, but it was still a lot, even after Frankie. Despite the slow start, when you had managed to take him all in he quickly sped up his actions. Fuck, it hurt. It didn’t stop hurting, tears falling down your checks even after an orgasm painfully opened your body up more. Will’s hands were all over you, groping and slapping and kneading, and it was all becoming too much. You tried to hold off, tried to wait until Will was done, but Will wasn’t going to be done anytime soon, was he?

William Miller was a patient man, after all.

It was too much, as your pillow grew wet with tears of pain, you began to say the safe word as will thumbed them away. “Ap- mmph!” Will shoved his fingers in your mouth and continued thrusting harder. You tried to talk, tried to communicate that you wanted to stop, but Will just laughed. “Putting up suck a pretty fight”

The fight was a part of the scene. Saying no was a part of the scene. The safe word was supposed to break it. You look to your husband, but he’s so lost in Frankie’s mouth he doesn’t notice. Another orgasm breaks, your body betraying you to Will’s assault. 

“That’s number three, boys, I think I made up for Frankie.” He continued fucking into you and Santi yanked his friend off his cock, Frankie chasing him even still. “C’mon, puppy boy, other side of the bed.” He tugged the other man up by the collar of his shirt, and by the way he way panting from the face fuck, the puppy nicknamed seemed fitting. 

Frankie knelt on the other side of the bed while Santi stood on his side, Will still fucking you. “Everyone ready?”

“Yes” Will, who only now removed his fingers from you. There was no point in safewording now.

“Y-es” Frankie choked out.

Will pulled out of you to your relieved sobs, the pain slowly starting to subside as the three men jerk their dicks in front of you, a chorus of moans from the men surrounding you. Their hot, warm cum coated your body in stickiness, creating a canvas of their own release on your skin. 

It took a while for anyone to move, everyone laying on the bed with you as your mind reeled from what just happened. Will couldn’t have heard you, right? He never would had stopped you from saying your safe word if he knew, right? 

Eventually, Santi drew you a bath and when he left, Will began stroking your hair. “Did so good, princess. So fucking good for us.” You wanted to vomit.

While in the bath, Santi and Will get Frankie to bed in another room, Will going to sleep with Frankie in his arms. You wouldn’t know that part, of course.

Santi cleans you off of all the cum, drains the bath and dries you off before laying you down in the bed. It was a palace of safety, your marital bed and now it was violated. Maybe you could convince Santiago it was time for a new mattress.

He dressed you in the warmest clothes, making sure you drank more water before laying down with you in his arms, cuddling like you had before this all started. “How was everything, bebita?” 

Do you tell him? Do you tell him the man he trusted with his life, the man he trusted with you, the man who had saved him and Benny and Frankie countless times in the battlefield had violated you? How would you prove it? Would Santi believe you? You couldn’t bare it if Santi doubted you… and what if you were wrong? Accusing Will of something like that? Will was a good man, wasn’t he?

And what if you were right? What if Will did it on purpose? What if Santi believed you? How could you ruin one of his closest friendships? For something you weren't even sure was intentional… just like him getting his dick sucked by Frankie… it just happened. Unintentional. Thats it.

“Good, Santi. I’m just tired.”

Santi smiled at you, tucking you into bed and kissing your cheek. “I bet. You get your rest, mi chica perfecta. I’ll be right here.”

It was going to be fine, everything would be okay. It was a mistake, that’s all. A mistake. And him and the guys… it was just tonight. There was nothing to worry about. It was the heat of the moment. You close your eyes, letting sleep take you with Santi’s arms closely around your middle. It had to be a mistake, because Santi would never let anyone hurt you, ever.

What you didn’t know was Will heard you. Frankie heard you.

Santi heard you.

But they couldn’t stop. Not with Will destroying your sweet little pussy. Not with Santi jamming his cock down Frankie’s eager throat like they’d both wanted to for decades. It was all too good. They needed to cum on you, to mix themselves together in that way; a goresque take on blood brothers. All those years, all the sexual tension, the almost kisses, the nights they fisted their cocks to the thought of their friends mouths… but they could never admit it. They could never admit to themselves what they were; they needed a vessel, an interject. Something to conduct it all together so it wasn’t so goddamn blatant. 

They needed this.

You needed this.

They needed you.

*************************

Thank you to the requester for this!!! and for your patience!!!

Remember, if you like my works, please check out tag list and masterlist!

Comments mean the world <3 Reblogs spread the work!

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alwaysmicado @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @meveispunk @miraclesabound @neverwheremoonchild

#dark #dddne #dark triple frontier #dark santiago garcia #dark francisco morales #dark william miller #william miller #william miller smut #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia smut #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #Francisco morales smut #frankie morales #sub frankie morales #bottom francisco morales #top santiago garcia #bisexual santiago garcia #bisexual william miller #bisexual francisco morales #ironpope #ironfish #Fishpope #francisco morales x santiago garcia #Francisco morales x william miller #santiago garcia x william miller #william miller x santiago garcia #m/m

[ghostofaboy]

Rock Bottom - Benny

Summary: Frankie is spiraling after Tom’s death. Drugs lead to some unhealthy friendships, and too ashamed to reach out to his former teammates for help, Frankie is drawn into a world he’s afraid he can’t get out of.

After settling into his new life Frankie gets a chance to catch up with Benny.

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morale/Original Male Characters Rating: Explicit. Serious over 18s only Word count: 1927 Chapter: 21/?

Warnings: Talk of sex and prostitution, mentions of PTSD, mentions of drug use

Note: This is a fic with gay and bi characters. Please make sure you read the tags/warnings. Header by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Part 20 / Part 1 / Masterpost

After a few weeks, Frankie had started to settle into his strange new routine. While working two jobs was tiring, it was certainly filling up his savings account, which he knew he’d need later down the road if he wanted to get joint custody of Sofia. And finally, he’d spoken to Will about the Vets Rehab program and was now officially on the waiting list. At the assessment appointment, he’d been told the waiting time was two months. Will, who had come with him, had cursed under his breath at Frankie’s side at that, but honestly, Frankie was grateful to have been accepted. Two months wasn’t too long, and considering the waiting lists for other programs, Frankie knew it could have been a hell of a lot longer.

After the initial flurry of sex during the first weekend, Tilly had only used his services once more since. He’d wanted a quick blow job before he left for a business meeting the following Saturday, and after covering Frankie’s face in come, that had been that. After that day, Frankie had spent the rest of the weekend and the one after taking stock of the garage and working on the cars. The only downside of the past few weeks was that things with Tyler had slowed somewhat after he had started his job with Tilly, but thankfully, they had not completely stalled. 

This week had been going by slowly. The repair shop was practically empty, with only a few regular clients to keep them all busy. The unfortunate reality was that there wasn’t enough work for them all. So that morning, Malcolm had called a team meeting to ask for volunteers to go home for the rest of the week. Frankie had immediately put his hand up. 

The way he figured it, he was going to be leaving the shop at the end of next week anyway and had no right to take money out of the pockets of any of the other guys. Plus, with his job at Tilly’s, he had more money than he’d had in years. As he gathered his things, he could hear the others still grumbling as Malcolm asked for one more volunteer before heading back to his truck.

It was only Wednesday, and Tilly wouldn’t be expecting him again until Saturday, which left Frankie with more free time than he’d had in almost a year. Sitting in his truck, he knew exactly who he wanted to see and, pulling out his phone, immediately started to text Tyler. After some thought, he composed what he thought sounded like a good enough message. To the point, sincere, and hopefully not too needy.

[Hey, I know things have been a little weird with us since I took the job with Tilly. I’m off for the rest of the week and was hoping to see you. Frankie x]

Pressing send, Frankie dropped the phone down onto the passenger seat next to him. Now what? Tyler might not even reply, might not want to see him, might not… Gripping the steering wheel, Frankie took a long, deep breath in. The last thing he needed to do right now was spiral. 

His head was getting clearer, but he still wasn’t sleeping too well. His body was exhausted, and he often felt like he could sleep for days. But no matter how tired he was, Frankie found himself sleeping in bursts, interrupted by bouts of nausea and the increasingly frequent nightmare. Vivid, awful dreams of Tom covered in blood. In the dreams, sometimes Tom was alive, following them through the mountains with his head half gone. He was angry at them, screaming at Pope or Frankie about their failures. Other times, Tom was just the first to die, and Frankie would watch as each of his friends was taken from him by unseen enemies. 

But the worst dreams were about something terrible happening to Sofia because of him. Frankie’s mind had managed to conjure up horrific scenario after horrific scenario, covering every possible way his tiny little girl could come to harm.

After a few minutes of focusing on his breathing, Frankie felt a little better. His phone sat silently on the seat next to him, with no reply yet from Tyler. Resisting the urge to pick it up, Frankie started his truck and set off. He didn’t really want to sit at home and stew, the thought of being alone right now didn’t seem like a good idea. Then again, just heading over to Tyler’s trailer also might not be well received. And as much as Frankie wanted to see him, he also knew he needed to give Tyler space.

After that initial weekend at Tilly’s, Tyler had come around to his place just as they had arranged, but the atmosphere was tense. Tyler had admitted his jealousy and discomfort, while acknowledging that he felt like a hypocrite because of it. In the end, they’d watched a movie before Tyler left for the night. Since then, they’d seen each other a handful of times. Each time was getting easier, edging closer to the normalcy they’d once had.

Stopping at a red light, Frankie ran over the options in his mind. Home would drive him stir-crazy and let him dwell on bad shit. Tyler’s wasn’t an option just yet. Then it hit him. Benny. He knew the gym Benny was training at and that he’d be there every day. With a destination in mind, Frankie felt his shoulders relax a little as he set off toward the gym.

Benny was based in a new gym converted from an old factory. From the outside, it didn’t look like much, a little shabby even. But as Frankie made his way through the front door, he was met with a clean and modern gym set-up. The young guy at the front desk looked up when Frankie approached.

“Hi.” He smiled, setting down his notepad. “You lookin’ to join?”

“I’m just looking for Ben Miller.” Frankie shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m an old friend and-”

“Wait.” The young guy’s smile grew. “Are you Catfish?”

“Yeah?” Frankie cocked his head, a little confused. 

“Oh man!” The guy stood up and made his way around the desk. “Ben talks about you all the time! It’s so cool to meet you! Come on, I’ll take you through.”

Frankie couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he was led through to the main gym and to the back of the large workout area. Men glanced up as he passed, some frowning at his jeans and obvious lack of gym clothes. Frankie blushed as a fit, younger man shimmering with sweat winked at him. Finally, at the very back, Frankie could see a group of men standing and chatting next to a couple of punchbags. And there, in the middle, throwing his head back as he laughed, was Benny.

Frankie’s heart skipped a beat. Even after all this time, even knowing that Benny would never be interested in him, Frankie couldn’t help admiring his friend. Benny was laughing and talking with his friends or trainers, topless in just a set of baggy shorts. Sweat clung to his toned body, making him glisten in the artificial light. Benny turned as head as Frankie approached and his smile grew.

“Fish!” 

In a flash, Benny’s sweaty arms were wrapped around Frankie, his face buried in Frankie’s neck, and suddenly everything seemed right in the world. For a few moments, Frankie let Benny just hold him, before Benny eventually stepped away. 

“What are you doing here, man!” Benny slapped his shoulder playfully. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Work’s slow, so I’ve got the day off.” Frankie smiled. “Thought I’d come and check up on you.”

“I’m almost done here.” Benny gestured to his trainer behind him. “You ok to wait, then we can go get some lunch?”

“Perfect.”

A couple of hours later, Frankie’s cheeks ached from smiling. It felt so good to spend time with Benny. It felt like old times. Benny told the same crappy jokes, and Frankie laughed at Benny’s terrible Spanish. It was like South America had never happened. 

They ate lunch before heading back to Benny’s apartment and sat talking about Benny’s fighting. As the hours passed, Frankie could feel the tension leaving him. He needed this. He needed his old squad. He’d spent far too long in this new world created of his own mistakes, and this afternoon felt like a return to normalcy. 

“So…” Benny licked his lips before taking a sip of his tea. “Work is slow?”

“Yeah.” Frankie nodded, blowing on his own drink to cool it. “Only a few regular jobs, not enough for all of us, so Malc asked for volunteers to take the week off.”

“And you volunteered?”

“Yeah.” Frankie cocked his head at Benny. “Why?”

“And you can afford to do that?” Benny was looking at him strangely over his steaming drink. 

“Yeah, I can afford it.” Frankie frowned. This conversation had taken a strange turn and he wasn’t sure he liked the way Benny was looking at him. “What’s this about Ben?”

“Have you been working with that new friend? What was his name? Tyler? The streamer?” Benny took another sip. He was keeping his tone light, but Frankie knew this was an interrogation. Benny was digging.

“No.” Frankie answered honestly. He hadn’t decided yet if he was going to do any video with Tyler. Pausing for a moment he weighed his options, before answered making sure to keep his tone equally as light. “I took a private mechanic job. I’m working it on the weekends until I finish my notice at Malc’s place. Ben…” Frankie set his drink down, leaning forward in his seat. “Ben, what is this about? Why does this feel like an interrogation?” 

“I’m just worried that’s all.” Benny let out a long sigh. “You’ve only just got clean again and…”

“And?”

“And, a buddy of mine said he saw you a few weeks back.” Benny looked uncomfortable, his cheeks growing redder as he searched for the right words. “You were, um, it was at Cutler’s and… he said he saw…”

As Benny trailed off and Frankie could feel his face beginning to burn with shame. Cutler’s was a dive bar Gavin had taken him to a few times. He’d blow guys in the dimly lit parking lot and sometime get fucked around the back of the place. The last time was around five weeks ago and Frankie had sucked three cocks in the parking lot while Gavin chatted and sold coke.

“And your friend saw me blowing some guys?” Frankie let his head drop, peeking up at Benny from under the brim of his cap. “Is that what you were gonna say?”

“Yeah.” Benny slumped down in his chair, looking at Frankie with those goddam big sad eyes. “He said, fuck, he said that you had a pimp.”

“Fuck.” Frankie could feel his hands shaking as he reached up to take his cap off. Throwing the Standard Oil cap down onto his knee, Frankie heard himself speaking before his brain had a chance to catch up. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. But… that’s over now. I’m clean now, I swear. It’s… all that… I… I don’t have a pimp now.”

“Fuck Fish.” Benny looked heartbroken, and Frankie had to force himself not to bolt out the door. “Fuck. How did you… how did that start?”

“You really wanna know?” Frankie could feel the tears starting to roll down his cheeks. 

“Tell me everything.”

#frankie morales #frankie 'catfish' morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #triple frontier #frankie morales x male character #frankie morales x original male character(s) #rock bottom fic

[urdnotbakara]

Happy Frankie Friday 🐟

#clayton shuffles #triple frontier #frankie morales #francisco morales #pedro pascal #i couldn’t resist the silly little fish in the bottom corner. just look at his little face!!

[undercoverpena]

frankie, baby

frankie morales x f!reader | masterlist

summary: “Well… we technically can’t touch each other inappropriately,” you begin, tracing your fingers on his black shirt, circles then squares, then triangles. “But, Will wasn’t specific about saying inappropriate things.”

warnings: explicit. 18+. smut. p in v. nsfw chat up lines. flirting. one slight spank. frankie undressing you. frankie being gorgeous, minor cock worship, christmas themes. reader wears a green dress, talks of lipstick - but nil else.

wordcount: 3.7k an: huge thanks to @thetriumphantpanda for reading this and ensuring words meant what i meant. to all my frankie-lovers, this one is for you. credit to this tiktok for the idea.

It wasn’t that Frankie hated Christmas parties, he just found they weren’t his favourite.

Over the years of attending the Miller’s annual bash, he’d always found himself asked the same questions over, and over, again. They would always come at him in varying voices, accompanied by different expressions.

But they all had the same undertone: what’s next for you, Francisco? What’s your future like Francisco?

He’s sure he wouldn’t find it all so tedious if it were only once he had to deal with it.

However, it replays itself—almost like a rerun—when he visits his own family. The only difference is there’s more judgement, a higher pitched concern and intermittent Spanish.

This year, there was at least one noticeable change. A thing which spoke for itself: you.

Stepping out of the cab, you close your bag, fussing with the bottom of your green dress before you look over at him—eyes finding him.

He counts—a thing he does now. He does so until it appears. Having begun doing so without realising when the two of you made it official. He’d learnt that sometimes it comes by the count of five, but he loves it when it’s on the count of three.

Tonight, it’s two—two, measly seconds.

Eyes zoned in, Frankie watches it like a spectacle—like it’s a firework show just for him. His eyes trained as it blooms and stretches out, gazing as it brushes out over your cheeks. It hits your eyes, that smile which could stop his heart.

The one which makes him feel lucky; that burned a bonfire inside of him that no rain, wind or hail could ever extinguish.

“Keep looking at me like that, Morales, and we’ll break Will’s one, and only, rule.”

While the two of you would never describe yourself as animals, apparently the Miller brothers disagreed. Unbearable had been another descriptor used—

It’s not that we’re not happy for you both. But, around my family, could you calm it down?

Smirking, he holds his hand out to you. Something shifts back into place when your palm meets his and your fingers find their homes between his.

“I’m not the one with their legs out, querida.”

“I didn’t want to be underdressed!”

Snorting, he pauses at the steps to the front door. The music from inside thrumming, the hard-to-contain usual excitement is practically already trying to seep its way out into the night, trying to brush over the two of you, as he takes a second to admire you.

Because you looked radiant, indescribable. Yet, it isn’t even the half of you.

Fingers brushing your smile, he swallows, half thinking to himself if this is all a dream, he hopes he never wakes up. Not from this, from you.

“I tell you that you look good?”

Stepping closer, you press your lips to his. Bathing him in heaven and sweet scents, leaving a mark of you against his mouth.

“You did,” you whisper, breath dancing with his when you part before your thumb wipes over the stain your kiss left. “Now, let’s go in, so we can begin the countdown to getting home.”

Foolishly, Frankie had expected you being on his arm would answer questions.

But if anything, it forced more to arise.

Some he could answer with a smile, a laugh, even a shrug, and others he found were ticking time bombs that no amount of sips of his beer would dilute. It was made worse when you’d slip away, tempted by a cocktail or a glass of bubbles, a kiss to his cheek as a parting gift while you left him to the hounds.

When he managed to make a break from the third when are you asking her to marry you, Frankie hides next to Ben—who is eyeing up the buffet table like it has all his answers and prayers layered over it.

“Hey man, having a good time?”

“Yeah, Benny. Great.”

Snorting, Ben grabs a piece of fruit. “Y’good?”

Twisting the cap off another bottle, he shoots a glare at Ben—hoping it’s readable, his anguish, how fucking uncomfortable he is. “Your Aunt just asked me when I’m getting married, and when I’m making her a great aunt.”

Laughing, he watches as his friend pops another piece of ham in his mouth. “And are you?”

“Fuck off, Ben.”

“Jus’ saying, maybe I wanna be an uncle while my knees are still good.”

Shoving him, Frankie leaves him laughing, moving through the guests, nodding and hugging those he had managed to avoid thus far. But his eyes are fixed on finding one thing—you. With each brush over a group, his heart sinks a little.

It only returns to its rightful place when he finds you in the corner, tucked away. Close to the overzealously decorated Christmas tree, positioned close to a set of bookcases he remembers hiding next to himself last year.

You have your back to the room, allowing him a moment to brush his gaze over your spine—over the way your dress skims down over your curves. Your attention is stolen, either genuinely interested in what you’re holding or busy pretending to be in a book covered in more dust than an abandoned building.

Sliding his arms around your waist, he feels you curl into him.

“Answer me this honestly. Do you think if I drank a smidge of bleach I’d still be able to fly with you to your family, or will I ruin Christmas?”

Laughing, he hooks his fingers together over your stomach, thumb brushing out over the silk—allowing himself to feel the softness that glides between his touch and your skin.

“That bad, huh?”

“Apparently I both have good skin and simultaneously could benefit from a skin regime—I found both out in the space of five minutes.”

Pulling a face, Frankie turns you, resting his head on yours as he feels your arms slide around him. Hearing you softly murmur which relative handed you both pieces of information.

“We could hide out in this corner all night? It’s a nice corner.”

“This where you hid last year?”

He says nothing, but the face he lets fall out says enough.

“We could hide or…” you say, an infliction to your tone.

One he doesn’t catch immediately, but dawns on him in the seconds that pass. More so, when he feels your eyes on him, burning, glaring.

“Or?”

Smirking, you bat your lashes—feigning innocence. A look he knows all too well means anything but angelic.

“Well… we technically can’t touch each other inappropriately,” you begin, tracing your fingers on his black shirt, circles then squares, then triangles. “But, Will wasn’t specific about saying inappropriate things.”

Leaning closer, Frankie narrows his eyes, pinching the inside of his cheek with his teeth.

“So, let’s see who can get away with saying the wildest, but publicly appropriate things.”

His mouth twists, watching your head tilt ever so slightly, lips remaining parted, waiting.

“Who wins?” he asks.

Tracing the edge of your upper lip with your tongue, you slowly begin to smirk—all wide-eyed, practically fucking shimmering.

“The person who calls an early cab home.”

It thrums in him, the tension of when you’ll say something.

Your fingers are in his as the two of you join the others, finding a place next to Will—who is busy both telling and reenacting a story Frankie is already sure he told last time.

He’s also sure you know it. Having been sure it was one Will had told most chances he got. But the way you’re hanging on to every word, makes him question otherwise.

“Very on top of things, isn’t he?” you whisper, nodding your head to Will.

Pausing, Frankie bites his smile, brow raising as he watches you twirl your finger over the top of your glass. The distinct sound of Santa, Baby playing in the background, fading from the loudness to a simple hum as you adjust your dress in front of him. Letting him see a glimpse of your breasts—showing him how all that remains between him and your skin is one single, thin piece of silk.

Keeping his hand at his side, he watches you. Assessing. Trying to work out your direction, your ploy—taking a sip from his beer just as you begin to add:

“I like to be on top of things. Would you like to be one of them?”

He almost chokes. Heat flushing on his neck, burning up to his ears. Somehow able to bury the splutter, your face shifting into one of concern—but he sees the devilishness under it. Your eyes giving you away, even if your hand is patting his back, calling his name.

Moving closer, your lips almost brush his ear. “You like that one, Morales?”

Catching himself, he knocks the bottom of his bottle against your glass. “That’s a good one, querida. But, wait—are you an elevator, because I’d love to go down on you.”

It’s instant, the way your mouth falls open— eyes widening before he swears they twinkle.

“That was…”

Moving closer, he presses a kiss to your forehead, taking your empty glass from your hand. “Can’t wait to see you crack, baby.”

“Oh, it’s so on, Morales.”

At one stage, between you whispering ‘is that a candy cane in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?’ and him replying with ‘nice dress. Can I talk you out of it?’, Frankie had lost you to Will and an intense game of darts.

When he manages to pull himself free from an intense questioning from one of the smaller cousins on helicopters, he finds you in the kitchen—just tidying up some plates.

“Hey.”

Smiling, you slide the one in hand into the dishwasher. “Hey, handsome.”

“Why you in here alone, querida?”

Standing straight, you sigh, resting your palm on the counter as you look across at him. “Just… I’m not feeling myself.”

Placing his drink down, he moves around the counter. A wave of guilt crept up, wondering to himself how he’d missed it when he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you.

Placing his palms on your jaw, he slides his fingers up your cheeks—lifting your chin.

“Can I feel you instead?” you add.

He feels your smirk sliding up into your cheek—slowly shaking his head as you begin to bite your tongue, his nose scrunching.

Laughing, low, almost gruffly, he smiles. “You’re so bad.”

Nodding, you slide your arms around his neck. It’s second nature to move you, press your lower spine into the counter—press his hips to yours.

“How you gonna make me good, Morales?”

“Well, I’m not a dentist, but I bet I could give you a filling.”

Grinning, you tighten your arms around his neck, mouth ghosting over his. For a moment, it’s just the two of you. The room fades out, the party a distant memory and the music nothing but a soundtrack. His fingers fall, sliding down, knuckles brushing over the silk which sits over your breast, running over your nipple he feels harden, before sliding down. Moving, slowly trailing his way until his hand grasps your hips—hearing the soft gasp you let escape.

You make him so hard—make him desire and crave.

Make him want to slowly pull up the skirt of your dress and feel for himself too if you’re having the same effect. If you’re soaked, if the tops of your thighs are coated in want.

“Frankie,” you whine, all low, barely more than a whisper.

As his waist presses against you, survey you as your brows rise at the realisation of how hard he is inside his jeans—how hard he is for you. Eyes flashing, something shifting—no longer a game but a prize within reach—as you lift your chin, slotting your mouth over his.

It begins soft, gentle. But in a click it's desperate. The words, the insinuations—all of them—slamming into the two of you as you crawl your nails against his scalp, and tug on his curls. His own grip tightened on your hip, keeping you flush to him, letting him rock his hips ever so slightly, the friction helping, groaning into your open mouth.

“Want you,” you murmur.

“Yeah?” he pants, drawing a circle on your hip, feeling you urging to kiss him. “Call a cab, baby. Call one and I’ll make it worth it.”

You halt, pause.

Blinking a few times, before clarity washes over lust—drowning it, dragging it back out to sea, leaving the beach with only memories.

“You should know…”

Tracing his nose over yours, he bites your bottom lip. “What should I know?”

Rolling your lips, you stare at him—the biggest, fullest eyes he’s seen. “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

He knows you move, but he doesn’t feel you do so.

Suddenly short-circuited. Left with only a fleeting recollection of the way your hip felt in his palm, the way your dress felt under the callouses and years of service. It isn’t until the door to the kitchen swings back, brushing against the frame, does he blink. Snapping out of it. Forcing him to realise what it is you just said.

“Fuck.”

Moving, he turns on his heel—palm flat on the wooden door as he pushes it open. His blood is thumping, jeans are uncomfortably tight as he scans the area.

All of the lines he’d found on his phone were seemingly pointless now. Hell, even the game seems pointless now. How close it was already, the fact all his nerves were sizzling, faint memories of how warm you were against him.

Especially now he knows he can pull you into an empty room, slide the fabric up which covers your body and find you bare.

The only thing he wants to do is surrender.

Is it say his goodbyes, call a cab, and have you at whichever home is closest. He just needs to find you. Doing another look, another scan. Moving through the room—spotting how the numbers have dwindled—before he finds you with Ben, no drink in hand, just a tight expression on your face.

“Hey—”

“I’ve called us a cab,” you announce, staring pointedly, the weakest wink sent only for him. His lips desperate to crawl up, clamber into his cheek. “Told Benny my headache was getting worse.”

The two of you are barely through the door when he presses you flat against it, it clicks into place—his finger-twisting the lock, sealing the two of you inside, nothing and no one allowed to interrupt.

“Bedroom, now.”

You slip out of your shoes, fingers wrapping around his chin as you slant your mouth over his—and he’s able to taste the bubbles you enjoyed earlier, the faint remnants of mint from gum you likely chewed in haste. Then it’s gone.

Fingers around his wrist, dragging him past furniture and rooms until he’s being led into his own room, your touch falling from him—feet stepping back, moving closer to the bed.

“If I said you had a beautiful cock, would you put it inside me?” you ask.

Groaning, he closes the gap, and pulls you flush to him as his palm comes down on your ass—your gasp spreading into his mouth, before your groan replaces it, washing past to his throat, tongue licking past his teeth.

His mouth on yours, his shirt coming undone. Your nails scratch down his chest, his stomach, pausing right where his belt sits on his waist—

“Dress on, or off.”

He barely registers the question at first, until his fingers grasp the dress by your waist. He tortures you with it, the way he bunches it up, slowly pulling it up, letting the edge of it skate past your knees, up your thighs. Each inch unveiled meaning the cool air is kissing your skin, brushing over it, likely making even more of a mess between your pressed-together thighs.

Not halting his movement until he can see you weren’t lying earlier, and then he aids you in getting it over your head, unveiling you—a goddess, the hottest fucking thing his eyes have ever seen.

And, you’re all his.

“Sit down, baby,” he moans.

You do, slowly perching your rear on the end of the bed, spreading your legs—looking at him with the same wide eyes as you’d given him in the kitchen. But, he’s only focused on the space between your thighs. How you’re drenched. Practically desperate.

“You want me?”

He watches you nod, and he steps closer—forcing your thighs apart, spread by his thighs as he slowly removes his shirt—eyes gesturing down to his belt. And, you read his mind well. Tongue swiping over your lip as you begin to undo his belt, the melt clattering, his jeans loosening as you move to the button, then the zip—the noise cutting through the slow breaths the two of you keep trying to take.

Commanding your eyes up to his, he slowly kneels on the bed—one on either side as he watches you slide back, the two of you moving more into the middle, bodies almost touching, heat searing between the two of you. It only warms further when his lips find yours, when it’s needy, all tongue and whimpers.

His hips move with his movements and strokes, the air tinged with the littlest moans as he grabs a hold of his cock, dragging the head of it through your slick folds, making you plead, beg—smearing and skating it spitefully over your slick folds.

That’s when it meets his ears, those distinct words—ones he knows he’ll think up when the two of you are apart and he can’t sleep. When he’s rock hard and only imagining you being with him—I want to feel you tomorrow, Frankie.

It unlocks something. Floods him. He manages to take in a breath before he buries himself inside you, right to the hilt, going deep. He feels you stretch around his thickness, as he revels in your tightness, the way you gasp at the feel of him—fingers digging, scrunching them into his sheets. In awe of you, momentarily just watching you before he wrenches your back from his sheets, perching you on his thighs, needing to see you, needing to run his palms up your spine.

“You look beautiful taking me, querida?”

You moan as his hips snap, taking him so well, so perfectly—a thing he tells you, a rush of good girl, good querida taking me like this. And he expects a comment, a thing you bite back.

But it never arrives. Instead, it’s a barrage of chants, all yes, please, yes, painting the shitty room—giving the crumbling paint something to be disgusted at, other than its own despair. The metal legs of the bed squeal against the floor, the headboard hammering, and clattering, leaving a mess of years of repainting along the cheap flooring.

“More, Frankie. Please.”

His hand sliding down between your thighs, above where the two of you are joined, thumb finding your nerves, drawing circles—languid, slow. Tracing the letters of his first name against your throbbing clit—the sound of his cock fucking into you growing louder, sloppier.

"Love your cock, Frankie. Always feel so good inside me."

You're a mess, covered in a sheen of sweat and make-up smudged, but to him, you're still perfection. A realisation that almost nears him to the edge, to emptying himself inside of you and writing his name there too.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he grunts, teeth pinching your ear as your hand grips his wrist—thumb still swirling, the R and N being from your favourite from the way you moan, the way you clench around him, “Thought about this all night. Only fuckin’ thing that got me through it.”

He feels your nails dig down into his neck, mouth searing as it burns against yours, moan after moan coating him, letting him taste the sound of his name.

“Y’ruin me, Frankie—only one I ever want fucking me.”

It spurs him on, angling his hips, hitting the spot which makes your words slide into moans, all pleases and yeses, undoing you. It ripples out. Making your back arch into him, tightening up from your head to your toes, before it bursts. Erupts.

You clench all around him, tightening, squeezing him until his vision blurs and your name curls somewhere on his tongue, all set to be spat, spoken, even fucking whispered. Somehow able to swallow it when it unfurls through him, when it shoots up his spine and surges through every nerve and muscle.

The two of you collapsing against his mattress—both of you gasping, his heart hammering in desperation to rip out his chest and be with yours, as you turn in his grasp. Then, he feels your lips on his, burying three words against them, three words he says back, pressing them to your mouth, so he knows you have them.

Both relaxing, your ear coming to his chest, hand sliding out over his body.

“I liked our game,” you whisper.

“Me too.”

“Next time, we should make it more fun.”

Next time, he thinks, letting his eyes drift out to the drawer you never go in—the one stuffed with his underwear, and a box you no nothing about.

“Could get toys we need our phones for,” you continue, a mix of mischief and sleep adorned on your face.

Kissing your hairline, he sighs in contentment. “Sure, baby. Whatever you want.”

Because next year he’ll let you have whatever fun you want, as long as you’re his fiancé and not his girlfriend.

an: think sundays are now feral-frankie-sundays with jo...

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales smut #Frankie morales x reader smut #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #frankie morales smut #triple frontier smut #frankie morales x f!reader smut #pedrostories

[sageispunk]

too divine (18+)

pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

summary: Riding Frankie after a long night out.

“You did just as you were told, chasing your high both for you and for your lover. That coil deep in your stomach was at its tightest, and all you could focus on was Francisco’s eyes, darkened with all his lust and love for you.”

wordcount: 1.3K

warnings: established relationship, PIV sex, spanking, the word ‘assault’ is used once but no actual assault, lots of dirty talk, praise, hair-pulling, teasing, eye-contact, slight dom/sub vibes but not rlly, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, mention of oral sex (m receiving), creampie kink, nipple play, squirting, the word ‘daddy’ is used once, they’re just in love hehe, no beta-all mistakes are my own

You were so beautiful like this, body strewn lazily over his chest, face tucked into the crook of his neck. All he could focus on in moments like these was the sound of you whimpering softly in his ear, as well as the gushing sound of your two bodies joining together. You were squeezing him so tight– strangling his cock with your pulsing heat.

With a hand grasped tightly on your hip and the other caressing the back of your head, he gently met your slow movements. Thrusting up, and up, and up, coaxing more of those pretty noises out of your throat. You had gone quiet on him a few moments ago, and god, he was already missing your voice.

A large, callused hand gripped your ass, squeezing before lifting and falling back down quicker than you could prepare for it. ‘Frankieeee…’ He continued his not-so-gentle assault on your right ass cheek, basking in the reactions he was pulling out of you. With each collision, your pussy clenched down on him and he couldn’t help but moan out in ecstasy. ‘Goddamn, baby, so… SLAP!...fuckin…SLAP!...tight…SLAP!’

You were a mess. A beautiful, cock-drunken, sopping wet mess, grinding on his cock like your life depended on it. He could tell you were getting closer as your movements became quicker and more erratic. Frankie used the hand that rested on the back of your head, lacing his fingers into the hair nearest your scalp to pull your head back, wanting–no, needing to see you.

There was nothing he loved more than watching you come undone all over him. The way it broke you each time–he could probably get off just seeing you come everyday if he had to, it was that good. Your eyes were so low from the pleasure but still focused on his face, teeth biting into your bottom lip so hard it would likely be swollen when the two of you were finished up. ‘You gettin’ close, baby?’

He already knew the answer, he just wanted to hear you say it.

You maintained eye contact as you nodded quickly, hips still grinding hard atop his own. Another slap to your ass. ‘Words, baby.’ You loved when he demanded you to speak, especially when he knew you would have extreme difficulty attempting to get any actual words to leave your mouth. You just shook your head, eyes snapping shut and head lolling forward as you felt that intense sensation building within your core.

His hand tightened around a good amount of your hair, gripping it enough to pull your head back up. ‘Tell me.’ The filthy desperation evident all over his face had you swooning, wanting to do anything that would please him. ‘I’m so close, baby, I’m so close, please please please I wanna cum…’ The huge grin that graced his face showed you how satisfied he finally was with your words.

Frankie’s hands left both your ass and your hair and came up to cup your cheeks, not allowing you to look away again. ‘Good girl…keep going, just like that.’ You did just as you were told, chasing your high both for you and for your lover. That coil deep in your stomach was at its tightest, and all you could focus on was Francisco’s eyes, darkened with all his lust and love for you.

Two more rolls of your hips had you shaking and crying out in utter bliss. ‘Frankieee–oh my god!’ Your eyes closed again this time, and he didn’t mind much because he had more up his sleeve. As soon as he felt your rhythmic pulsing on his cock, he saw that as an opportunity to increase your pleasure ten times over.

His hands came down to your hips, gripping tightly as he planted his feet down on the mattress underneath. Before you could even realize what was happening, you were leaning forward, bracing your hands on his chest, and Frankie was already pounding–so hard, and so deep–up into you. The tip of his cock kissed that button deep within you over and over again, never fully allowing your orgasm to fade. ‘Yeahhh, baby, you can take it, I’ve got you…’

His words echoed in your ears as you felt yourself getting higher on all the love he was giving you. Your head felt damn near empty in mere seconds, falling backwards while you remained mostly upright and bouncing on his cock.

The sight of your glistening body on top of him, entirely at his mercy–he wished the two of you would’ve filmed this. Instead, he has to just touch and observe every single little thing you do, committing it all to his memory, just in case he never gets to experience this sort of euphoria again in his life.

His cock was so hard, it had been that way since the two of you had gone out for dinner earlier in the evening. And it had stayed that way all throughout; by the time you made it back home, he was red, throbbing and nearly bursting out of his jeans. Once you saw how needy he was, you immediately got on your knees and sucked and licked Frankie like there was no tomorrow, like your last dying wish was just to simply please your man.

Now, he was ready to cum again. This time, however, he only wanted to release deep inside your perfect pussy, filling you up until there was absolutely nothing left.

One hand left your hip and came up to your breast, gently squeezing and caressing the soft mound. A high-pitched mewl left your mouth as he fondled with you, teasing you. Fingers gripped your nipple, pinching and sending more pleasure through your body. His hips continued their relentless pace for a few more moments.

Francisco felt himself teetering along the edge, getting closer and closer but somehow still wanting to last. And then, you said it.

‘Cum in me, daddy…’

All patience was lost then.

His hips stuttered, changing the angle just a tiny bit, hitting your spot better, faster, and harder than it had been before. A sob, louder than he’s heard before, escaped your lips as you clenched and quivered around him. His fingers were still latched and pinching onto your nipple, everything stimulating your brain oh-so-much. Suddenly, you both began to feel warm liquids, splashing between your bodies, making everything wetter and sloppier.

‘Jesus christ…Good girllll, good girl, squirting all over me like that–fuck yes..’

Sounds of your lovemaking filled the room; your loud, echoing cries, Frankie’s murmurs of praise to your body, and the pornographic sounds of him entering and leaving your soaked folds, over and over again.

Just a moment after you squirted on his cock, he was letting go. Your warmth had been squeezing so tightly, and then to add the extra warmth and wetness? There was no way he could continue to hold back. You felt it all, the throbbing of his cock in you, all his cum–so much cum–pumping deep inside you.

His pace slowed down shortly after and you leaned forward, tucking yourself back away into his neck. Your hips moved slowly up and down his length, draining him for all he had. ‘So good, baby, so fucking good–this pussy is heaven, oh my fucking God!’

The both of you came down, slowly and quietly—still trembling, you still moving only slightly just to hear his moans in your ear. He sounded so beautiful, so perfect when he came–and even more so when he was overstimulated. He only allowed you to continue for a few minutes before grasping onto your hips to keep you still.

You chuckled and obeyed, deciding to instead plant kisses on him; his neck, behind his ear, his chest and shoulders, and then back up to his jaw and face. Soft lips met your own and you sighed into his mouth, feeling at peace. You knew he’d want you to get up in a bit to clean up, so you decided to savor this moment. Tongues lazily wrestling the other, while your sweaty body still laid atop his, cock softening inside while both of your releases dripped down your thighs and onto the sheets.

‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

…

‘So you’re a squirter, huh?’

soooo... first fic posted! likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated if u enjoy this story!! i don't have a specific schedule right now, but i do have a few fics lined up for some other pedro characters and bucky barnes (mostly). feel free to leave any feedback or requests/suggestions, i don't mind!

i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.

#frankie morales x reader #my writing #frankie morales #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales fanfiction #sageispunk

[superhoeva]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘: 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄

next chapter | series masterlist | main masterlist

⬩ pairing(s) sexologist!francisco "frankie" morales x college student!female!reader

⬩ warning(s) very inaccurate scientific study methods (this could not happen in real life without someone going to jail, i think lol), language, flirting, sexual tension, scientific talk about genitals, safe sex practices, pcos (mentioned), endometriosis (mentioned), commentary on unbalanced male domination of sexual spaces, Spanish nicknames/pet names, smut smut smut, somewhat-guided masturbation, reader hs nipple pircings, dirty talk, mdom-ish!frankie, pussy drunk!frankie, consent checks, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), big hands!frankie, bodily fluids, doctor/patient relations, the whole "we want to but we can't but we might have to anyways" kind of vibes, some aftercare, pov switches (reader's pov uses "dr. morales. frankie's pov uses "frankie.")

⬩ author's note happy new year! starting 2024 off with a bang (literally, ha) of a new series. as mentioned before, this was inspired by an audio series created by anonyfun35 on the erotic audio site quinn (very much recommend the series and entire site if you're looking for more ethical alternatives to regular porn and able to spare a few extra dollars!), which is absolutely heavenly. frankie's been sitting in my heart recently after rewatching triple frontier, and now here we are! here is chapter one, as promised, and i can not wait to share the rest of this series with you all! (p.s. i know some people have asked to be tagged in this, but i no longer do tag lists. for those who want to keep up with new chapter, i'd recommend following the au: the study tag or just check back here regularly! heeds the warnings. let me know if i've forgotten any. drink your water. love you and hope you enjoy. <3

⬩ word count 6.4k(!)

The lobby is suspiciously comfortable for a doctor’s office. As if the chair you’ve been shuffling back and forth in for the past five minutes. You’ve decided to focus on the mint green tint of the walls to steady yourself. Your breath moves in and out of you in quivering streams, and you have to keep running your tongue over the flesh of your bottom lip to stop your teeth from drawing blood.

A sweet-looking brunette types away at the lobby desk, and she sends you a quick smile when you accidentally catch her eye. You hope the grin you send back doesn’t look as pitiful as it felt.

Straight across from you, there’s a poster of a vagina. Vibrant and contrasting nicely with the color of the wall, it labels each part of the genitalia with pretty, curvy letters. You read over each of them, laughing a little when you get to the clitoris. Maybe you should hang a copy of the poster over your headboard. Just to make it a little easier for those who need it.

Your eyes trail left. Another poster, this one with photos of different types of barrier methods for safe sex; on it is everything from internal condoms to dental dams and a short explanation for when it’s best to use them. You study it with a little more intent than the last one and become so engrossed that you don’t hear the receptionist at the desk until her third calling of your name.

You jolt a little, looking over at her with widened eyes.

“Sorry, yes?”

She smiles at the look on your face, shaking her head.

“It’s alright,” she promises, “that stuff’s actually pretty interesting, right? I just wanted to tell you that Dr. Morales is ready to start whenever you are.”

Ignoring the way your heart jumps a little, you rise from your seat with the best grin you can manage.

“Alright,” you nod, gaze flickering down a nearby hallway, “is it–”

“All the way down and to the right. Can’t miss it. And feel free to let me know if you need anything, before or after. I’m here for whatever you need me for.”

There’s something genuine in her voice that lets your shoulders relax. You smile again, and it feels real this time. “I think I’m okay right now, but I appreciate it, I do. Thank you.”

“No worries. Oh, and honey,” she pauses, taking a second to leave her seat and trot over in front of you. “Remember to breathe. Dr. Morales is a sweetheart, I promise. Wouldn’t work here if that wasn’t the case.”

Melanie the tag on her name reads. She gives you one last wink before returning to her desk. A warm feeling fills you nicely as you watch her for a few more seconds. 

Melanie is nice. You like Melanie. If you could, you’d stay and talk to her for a while, but no sense in keeping the doctor waiting.

As you head down the hallway, the walk feels like it lasts half a second and a thousand years all at once. Time here seems to work a little differently, but maybe that’s only because of how unbelievably fucking nervous you are.

The room is at the end of the hall on the right. Just like Melanie said. The knock you give the door is softer than you mean for it to be, but it pulls open before you get the chance to knock again.

“Hi, welcome. Come on in, please.”

Well, fuck. Fuck.

The first thing you notice isn’t the fluff of hair on his head, or his big, doe, brown eyes–it’s his voice. A deep, pleasing rasp that’s soft and stirring, all of it combining into a sensation that sits snugly right in the middle of your chest. And legs.

You take a second to swallow the spit in your mouth.

“Hi,” you all but mumble back, swallowing again. God, you hope he doesn’t hear the sharp exhale that leaves your nose when he steps to the side with a smile. Your eyes blow up, big and wide, but only for a second as you swiftly compose yourself. You’re here for a scientific study, damn it, not to gape at how fucking gorgeous Dr. Morales is. Even though he is fucking gorgeous. “You’re Dr. Morales?”

“Yes,” he answers effortlessly, and you bite your tongue when he rattles off your name. His voice. You barely remember to nod, and he smiles. Now that you think about it, he hasn’t stopped smiling since he opened the door, and it’s already building a bit of sweat at the back of your neck. “It’s nice to meet you finally. Been seeing your name on all the paperwork, so it’s nice to put a face to it. Especially a face as nice as yours.”

You swallow, again, and can’t hold back the grin his words bring. “Thank you and uh… likewise.”

Dr. Morales pauses and your heart stops at the way his face drops. Then his eyebrows raise slightly like he’s impressed, and he takes in a long breath himself. A gulp of air finally refills your lungs when his smile returns, more of a smirk now.

“Thank you.”

The two words are followed by a small silence. You take it as a chance to look around. Dr. Morales takes it as a chance to glance you over, and his teeth bite into the side of his mouth at the dress you’re wearing. It’s airy and short, stopping just above the middle of your thigh.

He sniffs, clearing his throat.

“Well, if you want to go ahead and get seated, I think it’s best we just start with some introductions to break some ice. Then a short discussion about the study itself, boundaries, things like that. And I know you answered a lot of those types of questions in your application, but I think more authentic answers can come about when speaking, you know, face-to-face. Plus it’ll give us both the chance to get to know each other a little better. Relax before we get to the actual… activities for today’s session.”

You blink.

“You’re doing the… the stuff?”

Dr. Morales blinks.

“Yes,” he starts slowly, eyebrows furrowing. “I’m sorry, was that not what you were expecting? I-It’s in the forms you signed, though I guess it is pretty easy to glance over if you don’t know where to look. But if that’s not something you’re comfortable with, I completely understand. We also have some female doctors participating in the study if you–”

“–I’m comfortable with you doing it.” God, you know interrupting was rude. But the words spill out of you before you can stop them. “Really, I’m okay with it. Just surprised me a little, considering…”

A hard clenching of your teeth doesn’t work to hold back the small grin that sneaks upon your face at the expression on Dr. Morales’s face. He’s gone from warm to faltering and back to warm again, with a hint of delight just in the past few moments. 

“Considering what?”

Dr. Morales squints his eyes as he asks the question. Watching and waiting for your answer with the knuckles of his fingers rubbing across his pink lips. You only let your gaze trail across the action for a short second. Any longer, and you’re sure you’ll melt away.

“Nothing,” you finally breathe with a soft laugh. The muscles in your neck tense and pull as you force your eyes upwards. Back to his eyes. “Sorry, uh… introductions?”

Something in his gaze shifts and he drops his hand.

“Right, right. Uh, feel free to take a seat here while I pull up your file real quick,” Dr. Morales tells you, motioning to the deep red chaise wing chair you didn’t notice until now. You nod, not trusting your voice, and settle into the large chair. It’s even more comfortable than the one in the lobby, and Dr. Morales just barely keeps his smile at how you subconsciously snuggle into the plush.

Other than the blood rushing past your ears, the clacking of his fast typing is the only sound in the room.

Much like the lobby, the room is rather warm for where you are, literally and figuratively. It’s a kind difference from something like the dentist or your normal practitioner. The opposite of the bright, sterile white you’d expected. You can tell the room was put together with the intention of being congenial for whoever steps inside. The velvet couch and nice rug that decorate the space tell you that much.

It seems that Dr. Morales dresses with the same purpose, white coat hanging forgotten on the back of his swivel chair, showing off the taupe button-up that stretches over his impressive set of shoulders. The shirt is tucked into a pair of thick, clean-cut jeans that hug around his waist.

“Alright,” Dr. Morales begins, sliding his chair over a few feet so you can see him a bit better. He smiles as he continues, reading off your name and age, to which you nod and smile back. You make sure the grin is big enough to cover the shiver that runs throughout your body and you don't notice that he didn’t even have to look at the screen when reciting the words.

“Great. Well, as I already told you, I’m Francisco Morales,” he chuckles, “one of the doctors here participating in this study you’ve so kindly agreed to be a part of. We’re really excited about all the knowledge we’re expecting to gain from the study. I, uh, we–we really appreciate you being here.”

“Oh, thank you for the opportunity. I’m also really excited. Never been involved in something like this before, so… yeah. I’m excited.”

Huh. Excited is one of the few words able to come to your mind as you bumble through the sentence. After only a few minutes with the doctor, you’ve found it’s somewhat difficult to form a coherent enough sentence. It’s even harder with him staring at you.

“What made you want to participate, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Um,” you start without thinking, “part of it was the topic of the study itself, I guess. So many of the things that have to do with sex, at least in my experience, are centered around men and their pleasure and what makes them feel good. So I think it’s refreshing to see something like this.”

“Oh, absolutely. That’s the whole reason for us doing this. I mean, we’ve got gynecologists, hormone specialists, endocrinologists, gender surgeons, and even sex therapists on my team all working together on this.”

“Oh, wow. That’s actually… really impressive,” you breathe out, but Dr. Morales shakes his head.

“It is, but I don’t wanna take all the credit. We’ve got a lot of amazing people working on this thing that’s gonna lead to ways to help women suffering from endometriosis, PCOS, trans women, everyone, really.”

Your eyes soften at the doctor’s words, and you straighten a little.

“Well, now I’m very happy to be here.”

Dr. Morales’s eyes squint with his smile this time. It’s the biggest he’s smiled all week.

“Good. I’m glad. And you’ve already filled out all the financial paperwork? Wanna make sure you get paid for this week’s session as soon as possible.”

“Oh, yeah. That was actually the other reason I signed up. Got some student loan payments coming up, and I could use the extra money.”

Dr. Morales laughs to himself.

“Loan payments are a bitch, aren’t they? Still paying mine off,” He shakes his head. Something about his curse pulls a small chuckle from you.

“Never heard a doctor curse before,” you tell him, and he laughs this time, raising his eyebrows with a shrug.

“Sorry. I’ll try to keep it at bay, but I should warn you… I can have a pretty dirty mouth.”

Whether he knows it or not, Dr. Morales’s voice seems to drop an octave as he speaks. The words are paired with his gaze clouding to something similar to a stirring ardor. It shakes something inside you, rumbling into the depths of your veins, heating you in a way that feels remarkable. In a way that has you clenching and reeling, eyes just barely watering.

He hasn’t even touched you yet, and he’s got you evaporating into a transcendent air of nothing. You brush your hands along the fabric of the skirt of your dress, arms stretching and trying to find some sense of relief. Dr. Morales stares into you, a burning observance of an action that your subconscious therefore controls more than anything. The look is hot and pointed and forces him to take in a long inhale. He squeezes the thin arm of his chair when you finally grant him a soft reply.

“I don’t mind.”

Dr. Morales pauses before letting out a huff. A smirk teases across his lips, and his mouth opens like he’s going to say something. He stops just short of whatever it is, opting to roll his seat a little closer to you while clearing his throat.

His elbows hit the top of his knees, gaze tilting to yours. Unable to hold it, you try to settle for his hands, but that doesn’t seem to calm you at all. You flick your eyes again, this time onto his thighs, but it’s no use.

Damn it.

“Um, so today’s session will revolve around cunnilingus and a some hand stimulation. Uh… sorry. Sorry, I–” Dr. Morales stumbles to a stop and your eyebrows furrow.

“You okay?”

He holds a hand out at the look on your face with a quick nod.

“Yeah, yes, I’m okay. Where was I? Uh… right, so like we talked about a little bit ago, I’ll be the one performing the… stuff, as you called it. And speaking of that, you’re still one hundred percent comfortable with me being to one to do it?” 

“Hundred and ten,” you promise with a bobbing of your head that makes him grin again.

“Okay, then,” he nods back, hands rubbing against the denim of his jeans. “Let’s get started.”

.・゜゜・

You’re going to be the death of him.

He had an inkling of it when you greeted him at the door, those eyes all wide as you took everything in. He was confident about it when you assured him that you’d be alright with the fact that he’d be the one ‘doing the stuff.’ He knew when you didn’t mind his dirty mouth. And he was certain when you'd asked if he was alright.

Dead. That’s what you’ll make him by the end of this study, and he’ll go happy. A little embarrassed also, given how he started sputtering through his sentences like he was twenty years younger.

Frankie’s breath catches a little when he returns to the room after washing his hands. You’re just finishing the tie on the robe he’d provided you with, and he doesn’t realize how flimsy it is until now. It maps across your shape damn near perfectly as you hang your dress on the side of the wingchair.

“Hi,” you breathe out, spinning around. Frankie rakes his teeth over his bottom row of teeth hard.

“Hi,” he blinks back, making sure to brighten his face with a small smile. “Ready?”

You shakily hum your answer, smoothing down your robe to busy your hands. It’s made of silk and feels incredible, but boy is it small. Just barely covering the cheeks of your ass, you might as well be wearing nothing.

“Alright. So, before I forget, let me go ahead and get a swab of the inside of your cheek, just so we have that on record.”

Frankie grabs a long cotton swab and its transport tube off his desk, stepping over to where you stand waiting. He swallows, ordering you to softly open. You obey with no questions asked, dropping your jaws.

Did you mean to stick out your tongue, too? Frankie has no idea, but whatever the answer is, he doesn’t care, not with the rustle he feels in his middle.

“Thank you,” he replies after a few scrubs of your mouth, eyes catching yours briefly before sticking the swab in the tube and placing it back onto his desk. He huffs, turning back around to you. “Now, let’s get you settled on the couch.”

Frankie holds out his hand for you to take without thinking. The regret that runs through him slips away as you place your hand into his grip and let him lead you. His other hand reaches for his chair, rolling it over as he walks with you.

He rubs a gentle thumb on the back of your palm as you sit, hand squeezing into a fist when yours drops from his. Frankie sits in his chair with a grunt, planting his feet on the group, making sure to face you.

The man softens a little at the sight of you, all bunched up into a ball of returned nerves, and he thinks for a moment.

“How about we start with a deep breath, yeah? Relax a little bit before we do anything else?”

You nod and Frankie’s head goes a bit fuzzy for a short moment. You’re so sweet, with your tiny robe and all your nods, like candy. You breathe in deep, just like he says to. Your chest rises with it, and Frankie almost forgets to take in the breath as well.

“Good. Now, how we go from here is up to you,” Frankie starts, hands folding together politely. “Robe can stay on, or you can take it off. Your decision–”

“Robe off,” you speak before he’s finished. He holds back a chuckle. “Sorry. I’m okay with it off if you are.”

Of course, you are. Of course, you are, and so is he.

“That’s absolutely okay with me. As long as you’re comfortable,” he states, and your fingers go to pull at the tie. He shuffles, waiting, and swallows when you pause.”

“Um, is my bra being off okay? I took it off with my dress, didn’t even think about it until now.”

Frankie’s head pivots back to the wine-colored chair. And so you did. There’s more lace than he expects, causing him to stare longer than he means. He turns back to you with his eyes darker than before.

“That’s perfectly fine.”

You nod again, fuck, and finally pull the ties. His heart nearly stops as the silk slips down your shoulder, exposing your naked skin to him, inch by inch.

God, you’re devastating. You devastate him, and he’s going to die a happy, happy man. It’s inappropriate, he knows that, but fuck. Yes, he’s a doctor, but he’s also a man with blood pumping through his veins and down into his cock, which he’s currently shielding with a subtle cupping of his hand.

Your robe continues to fall, and soon enough, nearly all of you is revealed to him. His eyes, working with a mind of their own, fall upon your breasts.

Of course.

“Wow,” is all he says, and the corners of your mouth pull upwards. You peek down, the tips of your barbell piercings shining with every one of your shaky inhales. “Wow, uh… wow.”

“Oh, these. Yeah, I got them a few years ago,” you reveal, setting the robe to the side. “Hurt like hell, but it was worth it.”

“While I definitely agree, I was talking about your… everything. You’re gorgeous, querida.”

Querida. The name is unexpected, yet received by you with dilating pupils. It’s not just the way he says it but the way he says it. You can tell that he means it, every letter. Every syllable, as it falls off his tongue, into your ears, and down to just inside the thin layer of your panties.

It’s the only piece of clothing left on your body, and you’re certain they’re soaked. You can feel yourself seeping through, needing for something to happen. Anything, or you’ll die.

“Thank you,” you murmur back, impatience inching you closer and closer. To what, you don’t know, but you think it’s something special. “Should I go ahead and…?”

Dr. Morales’s gaze oozes down you where you’re slowly parting your legs. It takes him a second to answer.

“Uh,” he interrupts himself with a short laugh, “actually I was going to have you do something else for me first. When you’re, you know, in the act of pleasuring yourself, how do you usually start? Do you… do you dive right in or is there some kind of build-up?”

Legs having paused, you blink. It’s almost impossible to formulate an answer, but somehow you manage.

“Normally, I’d play with my nipples.” God, it sounds so silly when you say it out loud. “Tease myself for a little bit until I’m ready to start.”

The doctor sits back in his seat, still covering his growing member.

“Why don’t you go ahead and do a little bit of that for me?”

There’s that thing again. With his voice, the thing that is causing your organs to convulse and squeeze. Has you scooting a little further back onto the couch with ease and a deep breath.

You hear Dr. Morales suck in one of his own as your legs spread a little further, revealing a large wet splotch in the very middle of your panties. It’s seeped a little into the couch, and you’re not even embarrassed. Your legs more because you want him to see it. You need him to.

A flinch jerks you when the tips of your fingers meet the buds of your breast. You twist and pull, and it feels good. Better than normal with the beautiful doctor watching you do it. They start to pebble around the metal and a few shocks through you.

Leaving your lips is a gasp. Soft and nearly nothing, but it tugs something from Dr. Morales.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

When you gasp again, he bites his lip.

“You like that? You like it when I say that?”

You nod.

“Words, querida.” No matter how much he likes the nod.

“Yes, I like it when you say that.”

“When I say what?”

You hear him chuckle at the small groan you release.

“A good girl.”

Your voice is even smaller now, hoarse with want.

“Good girl.” Another groan from you. “Now, I need you to move a little further down, okay? Slip those pretty panties off for me.”

Your turn.

“You really like them?”

Dr. Morales’s throat bobs at your question you ask while dragging your hand lower. They glide across your stomach to rest just over your center. Pushing onto your clit, your moan is muffled by the way your teeth catch the soft flesh of your lip.

“I do, muñeca,” he assures you. “I really do. They’re almost as pretty as you are.”

You can’t help the full grin that sneaks onto your face. You push against yourself a little harder, and your head falls to the back of the couch. Fingers hooking under the seam, you tug.

Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion at this moment. You raise your head back up, just to catch the reaction from the doctor, who’s already gazing into your pussy when your eyes refocus. His breathing changes from long, calming inhales, to unsteady suspires.

“Jesus,” he grits out just under his breath when you eventually throw your panties alongside the robe and fully open yourself to him. Clenching around nothing, you relax further into the couch, legs propped and feet settled against the velvet.

Your huffs push out hot when Dr. Morales finally lifts from his seat. You don’t dare look away as he steps forward, towering over you. He bends at the waist, face lowering near your own. He gets so close that, for a split second, you think he’s going to kiss you. Press his pouting lips into yours like you so badly want him to.

His breath fans across your face, but he pulls away before you get to bask in any of the warmth. In his hand is a pillow from the couch that he plops onto the floor.

“Bad knees,” Dr. Morales mumbles, smirking at the dazed look in your eye. You say absolutely nothing, only watching as he drops his knees onto the wide pillow, hands clenching the edge of the couch cushions.

All the doctor does for a tick is stare. He stares and stares, tongue darting out to wet his mouth.

“Keep rubbing for me, hermosa,” Dr. Morales orders. “Just a little more.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing when your fingers dip down and come back sticky with your wetness. A whine exits you, and your head falls again.

“Can you touch me now? Please,” you remember to add at the end, the ache between your legs forcing you to squirm. “Please, I can’t wait anymore.”

A hand on your thigh almost startles you. Your head tips back up to see his palm sitting heavy against your leg.

“This what you want?” He asks, another scalding touch planting itself on your other thigh. His hands give thrilling grips, thumbs landing at the very edge of your dripping lips.

A pathetic nod from you.

“Words, gorgeous,” Dr. Morales tells you, gaze completely unmoving.

Gorgeous. Hm. A new one, but just as effective.

You pant a few more times before pushing out “Yes, that’s what I wanted.”

“Good girl,” he praises, and you’re nearly done for. “Now, if I ask on a scale of one to ten, how turned on are you right now?”

It’s tough to think of an answer. His hands, so big and inching closer and closer to your heat, are melting your thoughts away at record speed. Everything you try to come up with leaves too fast for you to catch them.

“A… a seven,” you sigh, liking the way his eyes twinkle at your response. “Seven.”

Dr. Morales chuckles lowly, looking up at you.

“Seven?” Frankie grins. “I haven’t touched your pussy yet, and you’re already at a seven?”

He waits for an answer but only receives a long whine that makes him want to laugh again. Fuck, you’re cute. And wet enough that your juices ooze out of you with a pretty shine, and it’s all for him.

Honestly, the only reason he’s lasted this long is because this is for science. Because Francisco Morales is a medical professional and needs to have some kind of composure. It’s breaking, though. He knows it, and not just because of the way his hands crawl closer and closer to your pussy. Or because of the ache in his cock that’s straining against the crotch of his jeans. Sucking in a breath at the feeling of it catching against the tight fabric, Frankie scans you.

Your chest, those stunning tits, have a noticeable rise and fall and you watch him. Something in your gaze, an unexplainable force, finally pulls his face down. It’s as close to your pussy as it’s been. He tries to remind himself about the self-control he’s supposed to be possessing, but a few more seconds pass and it’s nowhere to be found.

He starts just off the left side. The first kiss, soft and careful to start easy. Figure out what you like, what you don’t, and what you really like.

Kiss after kiss, his lips press a little harder. Gliding across the skin of your thighs and pelvis, staying in a spot a little long when it elicits a sound or squirm from you.

The pecks turn to full smooches, and he soon enough finds himself right where he wants to be.

Eyes meeting yours, he sinks into you with a long, fiercely slow drag of his tongue. Frankie’s gaze ties into yours, he puckers his lips and sucks. It’s a supple thing that he pairs with a flick of his tongue right across your pearl.

“Oh,” you squeak, unable to continue with anything but another broken sound. When you arch, Frankie’s hand reaches higher to rest against your hip. He had his suspicions that you were a squirmer, but to see it like this, up close is something else. Something special. “Shit.”

God, you taste incredible. Better than incredible, and while he wants to tell you he can’t. There’s no way he’s pulling away from this, so he suffices for his own moan.

“Fuck,” he mumbles against you, mouth lifting to suck a bit harder. The hand not occupied on your hip reaches until his thumb sits just inside your opening. He rubs, delicately, all the way up, only pulling his mouth away to smooth it over the slick skin.

Another moan, this time from both of you when your hips grind upwards. He matches your movements, letting his head dip back down to continue his lick.

After a while, Frankie decides to up it a notch. Delve as much of his mouth as he can against you, lapping and slurping whatever he can catch before it leaks down onto his chin. The sound it makes, your pussy and his soaking lips, is disgusting. Loud, sinful squelches of wetness that he would give anything to hear for the rest of his life.

Yet somehow, what leaves you is even better. A combination of hitching breaths, loud coos, and cries for him to keep going. Just like that, fuck. So he keeps going, just as he is until he can barely breathe.

He yanks away from you with a grunt but makes sure to replace his tongue with his hand. 

“Such a gorgeous pussy,” Frankie husks out, pressing another kiss to your inner thigh while he finishes catching his breath. “What number now, princesa?”

Frankie makes sure to wait until you’re about to answer him when he snakes his tongue into your slit and fucks. His head bobs back and forth, tongue caressing as deep inside of you as he can. His fingers return to your clit, rubbing with ease thanks to the mixture of slick and spit.

“I don’t know, I can’t think of one,” you rush out, and Frankie chuckles. He gives you one last bold lick before pulling away. He has to hold you tighter when you squirm in irritation, nearly sobbing.

Frankie shushes you with a kind pat on your thigh. You don’t have a chance to whine anything out before he hooks an arm of your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the couch. One of your legs hangs just off the couch, so the doctor hitches it over his shoulder.

His eyebrows scrunch, and he focuses his attention on ghosting a few fingers just barely inside of you. He looks up at you and is met with you already looking back, ready and waiting for him to push further.

He pauses in a wait. Not ten seconds pass before you try to thrust his fingers further yourself, but he doesn’t let you.

“All you need to do is give me a number, baby, and I’ll fuck these as deep as you want.”

“Nine,” you whisper, and he spots your hands clench. You must want to touch him.

“Nine,” he repeated, thumb rolling a circle over your clit. “How many fingers to get you to ten?”

“Three, plea–ah,” you mewl out when Frankie slides his middle digit inside you. He lets out his own noise at the way you suck him in.

His hand bottoms out, and you’re already fucking yourself on his finger. “That’s a girl. Already taking my finger so well. Feel so fucking good around me.”

You’re truly a sight to behold as Frankie watches you, skin damp with a slight sheen, curving and grinding against his hand. Speed increasing, almost growls when he bends to lap at your clit. His tongue twirls against the bud of nerves, and he has to close his eyes to stop himself from reaching down and giving his painfully hard cock a squeeze.

Frankie slides in the second and third finger at the same time, and you break. 

You don’t mean to tangle his hair with your fingers, but they do anyway. It’s hard, but you tug them away, clenching the couch instead.

“Sorry. Sorry, I–” you blurt out, breath long gone, but Dr. Morales has none of it. He doesn’t lift from his licking and swirling to grab your hand and tangle your fingers back into his hair. “Fuck me.”

The rhythm he finds is relentless. He pumps knuckles deep inside you, sliding in and out, collecting a residue of thick moisture. He curls his fingers, searching and finding the spongy spot that causes you to tighten your grip on his hair. His fingertips drag across it, over and over, and you fall limp in his grasp.

“Good fucking girl,” he tells you, words slurring together in his pussy-drunken state. “So good for me. Now I need you to cum, alright? Need you to come for me, all over my fingers so I can drink it all up.”

Dr. Morales slurps messily, chin now nearly dripping as he eats at you. Savoring the tang and hint of sweet while his fingers drive with a steady vigor. There’s no way you can stay still now. You arch, twist, and grind into the doctor, propelling him even deeper. He’s reaching somewhere inside of you that you once thought impossible. Taking grasp of you entirely.

You’re close. You’re so close

“I’m clo–fuck, yes, I’m close. Please don’t stop, please,” you whimper.

“Yeah, you are. Squeezing all nice around me, like a good girl. Sucking you into my mouth. Love how you feel on my mouth, baby. And on my tongue and around my fingers. Never gonna forget how you taste. Shit, could come just like this, so I need you to come right now, okay?”

Frankie doesn’t even know what he’s saying, his rambles. They just pour out, some of it incomprehensible as he busies himself with circling and flicking your sensitive clit. 

You sob out one last moan before the damn breaks. He groans along with you at the way your clit throbs against his tongue. His fingers slow, but only a bit as they make sure to rub right against your g-spot.

A choking sound leaves you as you can barely breathe. The air sucks from your lungs almost as hard as Dr. Morales does down below, and your eyes clench shut. You see stars and space, world falling mute, and body quaking with a thick orgasm.

It rolls over you in drowning waves, the euphoric warmth, driving you with an unbearable bliss. You whine, crying out a few tears. Twitching and shivering under the strong hands of Dr. Morales. 

His hold is tender as you work through it, talking to you gently in the pauses he takes from licking you clean.

“Fucking look at you, querida.”

“Did so good for me, so fucking perfect.”

“Can’t wait to get you back in here next week.”

Only some of the words make it to your ears. The blood rushing makes it hard to understand, but just the sound of it is comforting enough. You feel more kisses press into you, this time just under your belly button, as the fingers inside you still.

The two of you stay like that for several minutes. Dr. Morales murmuring quietly to talk you down. Your leg still over his shoulder caressed by his free hand, while your own twirls at his brown locks.

“Fuck me,” you breathe out eventually, and Dr. Morales smiles against you. You can’t help but join him, chest warming at the final peck he places onto your knee before lowering your leg.

“Gonna pull out, okay? I’ll go slow,” he tells you. You nod, hand falling around his to touch at the warm skin. You huff out a short breath, mouth falling open as you stare at the wetness revealed when he begins to pull out.

Frankie whispers out his own damn, watching you until his fingers are free. Fuck, you’re pretty, aren’t you?

“I meant what I said earlier,” he declares, pushing away the thought. “Did great, muñeca. Incredible, actually.”

“I could say the same for you…” you mumble with a shy grin, and Frankie finds it touching. You’re divine. You’re precious. You’re… his patient.

The room is filled with heat and smells of sex. It clouds Frankie’s brain, but he knows he needs to keep moving. You can dwell, but not him. He’s got a job to do.

Frankie only lets himself stare for a few more minutes before he rises with a groan. His knees are aching, but he doesn't care. His face heats when you help him up the rest of the way, loose limbs and wet stains in all.

“Thank you,” he smiles, moving to hand you your robe with his untainted hand. “Let me go grab you some water and a towel, and then we can do your swab so you can get out of here.”

He’s turning to leave, heading for the bathroom across the hall to wash his hand–it’s still wet and shining, even now–but stops when he sees the look on your face.

“Is it required that I leave right away?”

Frankie is quick to answer. The small pout on your face makes it so.

“Of course not,” he shakes his head. “You’re free to take your time, take a breath. Sip on the water I’m gonna go grab you. Hell, you can even take a nap, if you want. I’ve uh… we’ve got rooms upstairs with beds and blankets. I think there are some snacks in there, too.

“Really?” You blink at him.

“Yeah. Gotta keep you all as comfortable as possible.”

Frankie sees that look again, the pout. He’s not sure you even know you’re doing it.

“I actually might take you up on that nap. I don’t think my legs have really come back yet,” you tell him, looking at him while slipping on the robe. When feels your eyes trail down, right to the bulge in his pants, he sucks in a rough inhale and does his best to screen the obvious.

“I’ll be right back with that water and towel,” Frankie rushes out, turning for the door.

His clean hand is sitting shaky on the handle when he hears you.

“Do you want me to…” you trail off, pausing for so long that he doesn’t expect you to keep going. “I could help you with that if you want.”

That. He knows you aren’t talking about getting water or towels, and it crumbles him. He grits his teeth, dick jumping at the thought of your–

No. No, he can’t. No matter how much he wants to, he can’t.

Frankie turns, digging deep for the strength to look you in the eyes.

“...we shouldn't, sweetheart. It’s against the rules, and we don’t want either of us getting in any kind of trouble, right?”

It takes a long time for you to nod. Way too long.

“Right,” you agree, but Frankie can smell the lie. He wonders if you can smell his, too.

© superhoeva

#frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier smut #triple frontier #au: the study

[ohforficsakelibrary]

Barbados

Summary: You've been carrying on with whatever this is for months, pushing and pulling, until one night Frankie wants control.

masterlist

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2K

Rating: Explicit 18+ for smut/ Unprotected piv, edging, multiple orgasms (f), creampie, a hint of dom!Frankie, a dash of brat-tamer!Frankie, still a Consent King, a pinch of blasphemy, y'all are gonna get a noise complaint / Minors DNI

A/N: As with Dominica, this is written about these two idiots, but flipped to the reader's perspective. Can be read as a standalone, only a few tiny, non-critical nods to the series.

Happy Frankie Friday to all those who celebrate.

Eight months into whatever this is, Frankie pulls noises from your throat that you’ve never made in your life.

And to think, you had fought him on it.

You’d been working each other up all evening, spiking heated glances over the dinner table as you listened to Pope go on about something. 

Can’t remember what. 

You’d both unceremoniously deposited Santi in his room next door, each smacking your key cards against the reader so quickly that it took three tries to unlock as Frankie groaned into your mouth and you pawed at his belt. This room was one of yours.

Can’t remember whose. 

It doesn’t matter, one key eventually worked. 

In your haste to have each other after a month apart you’d skipped his mouth, and his fingers, and everything you would have demanded if you’d had more sense.

Sense. The thing he simultaneously robs you of and delivers in spades to every starving nerve ending.

The two of you hadn’t even made it to the bed. 

Frankie’s behind you on the couch, your upper body draped over the armrest as he works his way inside you.

“Mmfh, hold on, wait, wait, wait,” your hand finds his where it’s wrapped around your hip and immediately he stills as you hiss through clenched teeth.

“Shit. Baby, talk to me.”

“Just. A little sharp.”

“No, I should have…” he makes a move to pull out completely.

Your hand flies back to his hip, “Francisco Morales, don’t you dare.”

“Baby, just let me taste you,” he barely has the tip of his cock inside you now as he cranes to drop kisses along your spine, “get you all warm and ready for me. ”

“I’m fucking ready for you now.”

Stubborn as a moose is not the saying, but Frankie reckons it should be.

“Baby, please, I’m not doing this if it hurts.” 

He’s mad at himself, more than anything. Frankie doesn’t fuck around with this. He knows what he is. 

He’s normally so methodical. He has his procedures. His checklist. You blew right through it and in his haze of want—he let you.

You’re doing it even now as your nails bite into his hip when he makes a move to pull away.

“Baby…” he urges again.

“No.”

Talons of irritation tug at the back of his scalp.

And he gives in to them.

“You know what, fine,” he growls, hands leaving you completely as something shifts, “you do it then.”

You move to bring one of his warm palms back to your skin but he snatches it away.

“No. That’s all you. You wanna take me? Take me. Go ahead.”

Oh. 

A Frankie Mood.

He hasn’t had you in a month and already they’ve returned with a vengeance. 

You throw him a look over your shoulder, half expecting to see his arms crossed over his chest. One hand’s braced on the back of the sofa, and you can feel the heat from the other where it hovers over your hip. 

His bottom lip is trapped between teeth.

Okay, Frankie.

You prop yourself up off the arm of the sofa with one hand, reaching down with the other to guide the tip of his cock against your entrance, gently shifting your hips and rocking back onto his hard length at your own pace, moaning as you do. 

A pace you’ve slowed way down for his torture benefit.

It smarts a little less and you take a little more.

But this stopped being about that a few inches ago.

You can hear Frankie sucking sharp breaths in through his nose. The back of the sofa creaks with the white-knuckled pressure he’s subjecting it to. 

While his words are bold, his body’s barely held together.

But he’s composed enough not to give you the satisfaction of the moan that’s bursting at the back of his throat.

“God, Frankie,” you breathe when the curve of your ass meets his stomach.

He barks a dark laugh.

“Oh, I thought you could take this whole thing,” he leans to cover you with his body, nose skimming the shell of your ear.

“I’ve still got two more inches here for you, babe,” he continues to taunt just before he bites down on your earlobe, soothing it with his tongue.

“What are you gonna do about that?”

You have half a mind to flip him off of this couch and onto the floor.

Instead you drop your chest back down to the arm of the sofa, tip your hips forward, and squeeze around him.

It makes him give you the last two himself.

It hadn’t taken long for you to discover how to short his brain and send his hips slamming into yours in search of more.

“Ohh, you little…” he’s growling but you can feel the smile against your ear. 

He loves this.

The push and pull.

You guide his hand to your clit, where he immediately starts rubbing slow circles with his middle and ring fingers.

He’s gonna drag this out.

You tip your face to meet his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip before he gives you his tongue. 

“You okay?” He whispers softly when you break for air.

“Yeah, baby.” 

Frankie drops a kiss in your hair before he bucks his hips against you without pulling out.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

“Mmmm,” he rumbles, sitting up and holding your hips with both hands. He gives you a few tentative strokes, slowly, palms mapping the contours of your back until you take it upon yourself to push against him. 

“You’re so fuckin’ impatient, aren’t you,” his hips don’t falter from their lazy pace as one hand grabs the back of your neck. “So fucking greedy for me. For this cock.”

You clench down around him to make your point, smiling when he groans, his hips stuttering.

“You know what?” He brings his face to your ear, “let me have it, baby.”

Control. 

Let him have control.

He can’t see the way you arch an eyebrow in challenge, but he knows it’s there on your face.

“Fine,” you whisper and cant your hips back against him. 

“Need a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ gatita.”

“Yes. Frankie.” It’s sour in your mouth as you say it. But you trust him. Trust that he’ll take care of you. That he’ll work you up and over and through until “yes Frankie” is all that you can scream.

You trust that he’ll take you past the point of words.

And so “yes Frankie” it is.

He rewards you by picking his pace up to something you luxuriate in, humming with approval as warmth builds low in your belly. You instinctively reach down between your legs and Frankie immediately pulls your hand away.

“That’s mine,” he growls, “and I’m not ready for it yet.”

You bury your face into the armrest and moan in petulant protest.

The hand on the back of your neck soothes, rubbing down over your shoulder blades. He follows the motion with his mouth and you arch up into him. 

You can feel his eyes on you, reading your body in the absence of your face. He slows his pace when your breath goes shallow and waits for it to deepen again before building you back up. 

When your fingers dig into the armrest, he nearly stops, holding you in place by the hips, grinding his pelvis against you. He leans forward to drop kisses at the base of your neck and scrapes the scruff on his chin down your spine, the prickle of it giving you another sensation to latch on to. After a few moments, he skates a massive palm over your skin to wipe the feeling away, hooking it over your shoulder and yanking you backwards faster against him.

The next time he pulls you back from the brink it’s with a hand in your hair and teeth in the curve of your shoulder.

He unwinds you like rope, pulling at each cord, twisting until it frays, until all that’s left is you pleading and panting in front of him.

By the fourth time you’re telling him to go fuck himself, and he’s purring in your ear that no you feel much better between thrusts that drag the crown of his cock over every spot inside you with the capacity to light you up, he’s just doing it too slowly to cause a spark.

“Frankie, I swear to God…” 

“You can swear all you want, gatita, God isn’t here. Just me.”

And oh but He is, in the searing palms that hold you firm, the thick, clever fingers that finally slip down to where he fills you to rub tight circles against where he knows you need him most. 

In the way your ears ring when he speeds his hips and his hands up—and finally allows you to break. 

A gasp, a captured breath, and a cry when you exhale again.

Except now, he doesn’t stop.

“Frankie, fuck, Frankie, Frankie, Fr…Fran…FranKIE,” discretion abandoned in favor of open-mouthed pleasure. His pace is brutal and you don’t care who knows that he handles you with a pilot’s precision, one hand encouraging the arch in your back, pulling where it’s wound in your hair, fingers of the other working faster over your clit.

You’re keening as you claw at fabric and bury your face in the armrest, Frankie never letting up as your walls clamp down around him again. 

He grits his teeth through your torture, grunting as he continues. 

He continues until you’re laughing deliriously. 

Until you’re growling.

Whining.

Sobbing.

Jesus, Catfish. Don’t kill her. Frankie’s phone buzzes with a text from Santiago. 

Neither of you notice.

You’ve angled your hips to take all of him, hair in your face, death-grip on the armrest because it’s the only thing keeping you here.

He cracks you one last time, has you crying and moaning and screaming for him in the seconds before he holds you fast, deafening you with the guttural scream that rips from his chest as he pumps you full of him, stuttering hips fucking hot spend into you as desperate cries escape his throat.

His teeth sink into your shoulder and his weight becomes yours to bear when he finally quiets and collapses, sucking open-mouthed kisses into your sweat-damp neck between gasps for air.

You stay a moment like this.

Feeling his lungs fill at your back. 

Feeling his heart hammer against your spine.

He finds himself enough to take his weight, but your hand grips his hair before he can move much further.

“The couch,” you pant a warning and he catches your logic in his hormone-addled brain, wrapping an arm around your waist and rolling you with him down to the hardwood floor.

His body breaks your fall.

Broad palms roam your stomach, up over your breasts and down again, hot, ragged breath rasping over the shell of your ear and catching in your curls.

He guides your hips up enough to allow him to pull out with a groan before he encourages you over, one hand immediately flying to the base of your skull to bring your mouth to his. 

You can feel the warm rush of him between your thighs.

“Was that okay?” He sighs against your lips.

“More than, baby.”

“I missed you.”

And you hum with a smile, raking damp hair out of his face.

You missed him too.

Both of your phones clatter repeatedly against coffee table glass and it finally spurs Frankie to his feet.

You both still alive?

You need electrolytes?

Fish, rub some sugar on her gums.

You read the group texts aloud from your back on the floor and Frankie laughs, returning with a warm washcloth and your underwear.

All good, Santi. So good.

Frankie sits on the couch and kisses your stomach as you stand and shimmy your panties up your legs. He pulls you to curl against him where he can still trail his nose over your sweat-slick neck.

How do I know Fish didn’t take your phone? Proof of life.

It’s tossed offhandedly with a smile. He doesn’t expect his screen to light up with a photo from Fish.

The look on your face in the photo is apologetic, one hand raking the hair out of your eyes, the other holding your phone with the screen lit to display the date and time. Frankie is behind you with his nose pressed into your hair and a Cheshire cat grin playing on his lips.

God, on the COUCH?

Sorry, not sorry, Pope. Is his answer.

Santi offers only the eye-roll emoji in response. 

_____

Fifteen minutes later, when you’re both showered and in bed, Frankie’s head resting on your stomach and your hand gently raking through his freshly washed hair, your phone fills the room with blue light.

From Santiago to you alone.

You’re better for him than you know.

The truth is, he hasn’t seen the man smile like that since his daughter was born. 

I can’t save him, Pope.

No. But you can make him feel.

And you understand exactly what he means because someone once did the same for you.

You stretch and Fish moves, rolling you onto your side where he can fit against your back, solid arm locked around your waist, breath brushing peacefully against your neck. 

Yeah. 

You can make him feel.

And sometimes that’s enough.

#frankie morales #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #ohforficsake

[morallyinept]

A list of all my favourite FRANCISCO MORALES Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.

PART 1

Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤

⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.

False God & Worship The Love - @swiftispunk Sub!Frankie

The Pilot & His Girl Series - @avastrasposts TLOU Crossover

Sex Worker Frankie Series - @prolix-yuy SexWorker!Frankie

K-Holes & Sticky Floors (Prequel To Rock Bottom) & Rock Bottom Series - @ghostofaboy Frankie x M!OFC's

My Girl - @foli-vora Featuring Dave York

Catalyst - @ezrasbirdie Featuring Joel Miller

Telltale Heart, More Sex, No Lies & Still A Video Tape - @astroboots

Just Focus On My Love - @javiscigarette

Sweet Thing - @psychedelic-ink StepBrother!Frankie

The Layover Series & Santa Fe Series - @goodwithcheese

Not A Day Too Soon & Blind Dates & One Night Stands - @criticallyacclaimedstranger

Douchebag!Frankie AU Series & F*ck You Frankie - @gracieispunk

Because Of You Series - @kteague OFC!Girasol

Frankie Series - @siriuslymooned

Rack 'Em - @macfrog BBF!Frankie

Touch Me Like You Never, Push Me Like You Never - @quinnnfabrgay-writes

Seven Minutes In Heaven & 102 - @tieronecrush

It's Always The Quiet Ones - @thot-of-khonshu

Old House & Gold Band - @moralesispunk

Fix You Series - @astoryisaloveaffair

Masterlist (Navigate to Frankie Morales Boxset) - @frannyzooey So much to choose from!

A Bumpy Road & Frankie Masterlist - @absurdthirst

The Book Of Love - @mvtthewmurdvck Bookshop AU

Morning Spice, Unwrap Me Now & The Day Frankie Came Home - @mvtthewmurdvck

Too Divine - @sageispunk

Riddles & Enigma - @wayfaringhoax

Distraction - @frenchiereading

Sing Fever To The Form - @thelightsandtheroses

Through The Scope Series - @ssuperficialspacecadett

Slow Shift - @hellishjoel LineCook!Frankie

The Fire Within Us - @flightlessangelwings Sex Pollen

Until The Sun Comes Up - @superhoeva

Bacon & Eggs - @noisynaia

Frankie Masterlist - @guess-my-next-obsession Couldn't choose just one!

Designated Person Series - @whatsnewalycat

These Hands Were Made For Worshipping You - @l0ngschl0ngking

Stood Up - @trulybetty

Feed Your Ego - @whatthefishh Featuring Santiago Garcia

Something Else Series - @pedrostylez

As Long As I Want - @fettuccin-e

Airport Pickup & Hideaway Featuring Santiago Garcia - @legendary-pink-dot

Heartbeat Part 1 & Part 2 - @floralpascal

At My Fingertips - @millerscoffee Throuple Featuring Featuring Santiago Garcia

The Run - @magpiepills Featuring Santiago Garcia

Pope The Meddler - @firsttimewriter92 Featuring Santiago Garcia

Everything I Know Leads Me Back To You Series - @peterhollandkait

Can't Shoot Whiskey - @strawhbrrries

Just A Number Series - @linzels-blog

#pedro pascal characters #fic recs #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales #pedro pascal #triple frontier #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales fanfiction #pedro pascal character fics #perdo pascal character stories #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction

[gosmigenergy]

KINKTOBER 2023 / Day Fifteen

( Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x F!Reader )

BOOT WORSHIP / SPANKING / LACTATION/BREASTFEEDING

Summary: After wanting to spank you for months, Frankie finally shares his desire.

Day Fifteen of @absurdthirst's Kinktober list.

Rating: Mature 18+

Warnings: Language, spanking, hair pulling, Dom!Frankie turns Soft!Frankie, P in V, unprotected sex (use protection irl please), no use of Y/N

Word Count: 2k

If he’s ever given the opportunity, Frankie’s hand will meet your ass and you give him too many opportunities to count. He thought you would have realised by now that he was an ass man but apparently not.

He pats you on the butt while you wait for your coffee, holding onto the counter top, bleary eyed. When the boys are over and you climb over their splayed legs to take a seat, he has a playful swat. He grabs handfuls upon handfuls of you when things heat up between the pair of you.

And it’s not that you haven’t notice, you just haven’t said anything, the notion has always felt somewhat loving.

There was one time however where he wasn’t so gentle.

You were on your hands and knees, searching for something under your bed. He clocked you, ass up in those ridiculously short pyjama bottoms and the temptation was too strong. You weren’t even aware he was in the room until the heavy handed smack. The force sent you forward, the shock causing you to hit your head on the slats.

“Francisco!”

That’s when he learned you only called him by his full name when you were pissed. He’d already bolted from the room when you managed to worm your way from under the bed. You rubbed your butt.

Sure it hurt but fuck, did it turn you on.

There was always an anticipation in you when his hand came to your ass, yet a slap like that never happened again.

“You missed a good fight,” he let you go in the house first.

“You all keep telling me that but I can’t watch him get beat up like that.”

The scrapping, the kicks and the punches were fine at first but the more time you spent with Benny, the more it hurt to watch him in the cage. Instead you waited outside or in the locker room for everything to be over.

Frankie plucks off his cap, throwing it aside with his jacket.

“He’s a big boy,” he cups your cheeks, “he can handle it.”

“I know. I just don’t like seeing him get hurt.”

He let you wrap your arms around him where you press your ear against his chest and listen to his heart beat. He kisses the crown of your head.

You yawn.

“Tired, querida?”

“No, just in need of a pick me up,” you stretch, walking away from him. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Want a late night snack?”

“I’m ok, thanks babe.”

You’d started to get into the habit of calling them all babe, he still wasn’t used to it.

After your shower, you gravitate towards his wardrobe, flicking through his shirts to choose which one to wear. You always went for the softest, the one that had clung onto his sandalwood scent even though he’d washed it hundreds of times before.

He’d just thrown the last piece of a grilled cheese sandwich into his mouth and was sucking the grease from his thick fingers when you join him. He looks you up and down, taking his finger out with a pop as he puts the empty plate on the table.

“So you’re the one who keeps stealing my favourite shirt.”

It was obviously you.

You pout, “Don’t you think it looks better on me?”

He watched as you smoothed the fabric over your figure, purposefully showing glimpses of the bare skin hidden underneath. You turn around just so you can lift the hemline enough for him to see the curve of your ass, no knickers in sight.

He leans back, arms blocking his chest.

“Of course it does.”

His eyes focus back on the television.

Playing with the cuffs in your fingers, you tentatively join him on the couch, knees to your chest.

“Are you mad with me?”

He looks at your doe eyes.

“A little…”

Sighing, he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“All I want to do is throw you over my leg and spank you but you don’t want that.”

Your heart skips a beat, the thought of it pooling in your belly and spreading between your thighs.

“When did I say that?”

“You didn’t,” he took his hand away from his face. “When I smacked you on the ass a couple of months back, you weren’t pleased.”

You take his other hand, “Frankie, that was just bad timing.”

“It was? You seemed angry.”

“It was the shock and the head bump. If I’m honest, I’ve kinda been waiting for you to do it again.”

His mouth was hanging open, brows knotted, “Really?”

You hum, nodding, teeth grazing your bottom lip.

“Huh.”

He stops talking, his mind working to formulate his next move.

The expectancy was tortuous, the passing seconds making you squirm then suddenly, everything went fast.

Frankie grabbed you firmly around the waist and hauled your body off the cushions. Intuitively, you went limp and allowed him to position you on his legs, your stomach pressing into bone. The shirt had already ridden up, the chill wafting onto your warm pussy and once you’ve caught your breath, you lift your head to look at him.

He stares at you hungrily.

His broad palm rubs gently, getting you used to the feel of his hand on your ass though you were pretty used to it being there. He waited for you to settle before he slaps you a few times but you barely flinch.

“You can go harder.”

He starts rubbing again.

“This is just the prep,” he gives some more slaps before groping, sinking his nails into the meat of your ass. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You scoff, “I thought that was the point?”

“Put it this way, I want you to be able to sit tomorrow.”

That you could agree with.

There’s a couple of final swats before he soothes you one last time. You swallow as you hear him take a deep breath, his hand no longer on the flaring skin of your ass. Closing your eyes, the impact comes fast and you yelp in response.

“You alright?”

His hand relaxed.

You nod enthusiastically, rearranging your position a little to get your ass up higher. He smirked at your eagerness, his other hand running up your spine and he watches the shiver take your whole body.

Then he gives another, then another over and over.

You happily take every welt, the heaviness rippling through your ass and your juices begin to flow. Each slap is met with a honeyed moan, your toes beginning to curl as your desire rushes through you.

Frankie is relishing in it.

How dutiful you are, taking it as hard as he’s giving.

As he continues, your nails claw into his jeans as you try to steady against the brunt, your head lulling as your head fills with nothing but him. The air as it’s puffed from his nostrils, his eyes observing every minuscule response and making the hair at the back of you neck stand on end, his cock growing and hardening into the side of your chest.

His next smack hits different.

It stings, the prickle spreading across your ass cheeks.

“Fuck,” you say through gritted teeth.

He does it again and you gasp, your chest shuddering as you breath.

“You good?”

You nod but he doesn’t see it.

Instead, his free hand trails towards your neck, fingers locking into a fistful of your hair. He pulls your head back and you feel the strain in your neck, you mewl.

“Querida?”

“Yeah,” you say breathily. “I’m good.”

You look to him out of the corner of your eye, heavy lids. He has to smile at how you appear, cheeks flushed, bottom lip swollen from your own teeth, drunk off his dominance.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”

You hum.

He slaps your ass and watches your facial features go slack.

Carrying on his thrashing, he can see how your legs splay, how your pussy glistens, twitching as the ache travels. He knows you’re enjoying this yet your ass is beginning to disagree. It’s scorching under his touch, handprints blending into the same raised mark that spreads the width of your ass cheeks.

Your scalp was tingling as his fingers still pulled, the sensation flooding your back. It dispersed, vibrating through your limbs until you were vibrating.

The next spank hurt, your senses overwhelmed and then the next.

“Stop.”

He raises his hand but doesn’t swing.

“Stop,” you tap his leg, “stop, please.”

His hand loosens on your head and you turn to jelly, legs buckling as you fall onto your knees, forehead pressed to the outside of his leg. He lets you catch your breath, stroking your hair delicately.

You took your time, your presence coming back to the room, to him.

When you look up at him, he’s already gazing down out you, straight lipped but soft behind his brown eyes.

“Thank you.”

He chuckles, “You might not be thanking me later.”

You smile, knowing that that wasn’t going to happen.

Helping you up off the floor, he lays you out across the couch and tucks himself in behind you. He props up on an elbow, his other hand, running up and down your side in a soothing manner. You could go to sleep, if it wasn’t for a raging boner.

“What are you going to do about that?”

“Ignore it,” he grumbles.

“It’s pretty hard to ignore.”

“That sounds like a bad pun.”

“It wasn’t meant to.”

You work a hand behind your back, cupping his bulge through his jeans. 

He groans, eyelids fluttering shut as he felt your fingers pull at the zipper. You coil a hand through the opening and knead his length, a spot already present on his underwear.

“Fuck me, Frankie.”

It’s what he needed to hear.

Opening his eyes, his hand fights to undo his belt and unfasten his button. He frees his cock from his briefs before hooking your leg over his, spreading you wide. Shuffling, he lines himself up, taking his cock in his fingers and pushing through your folds. He slowly rolls his hips and fills you to the hilt.

You sigh.

He slides back with ease, your juices helping him glide through your walls. He takes his time, thrusting you at a languished pace. Two of his fingers dance across your navel before pressing on your clit, your head falling back and he delivers kisses underneath your jaw.

Your hands come to the back of his head and you kiss him squarely in the lips, nudging your chin for entry. His tongue slips into yours before you get chance, stealing the moan that escaped you. Your tongues twist and curl together, chasing the taste of each other.

He circles your clit in rhythm to his thrusts, the bundle of nerves pulsating to your inner walls that clench around his length.

You chase his lips when he takes them away but your easily distracted when he snaps his hips a fraction harder. You cry and he only smiles, eyes dark with heavy lids. He drops his hand from his head and works it under your neck, hand slipping underneath his shirt to your breast. Your head falls back as he squeezes your breast and clit in unison.

You cry, eye screwing shut and you feel his breath hot by your ear.

He shushes you, holds you while your body convulses in orgasm, his t-shirt bundling in your hand.

Your cunt contracts around his cock.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he says gruffly, working against your walls.

With your tightness, he was far from finding release himself. A couple more deep thrusts and he felt his balls recede as he pumped into you, filling you with every last drop of his seed.

Sinking into the couch, his body loosens.

You scramble to unbutton the shirt and throw it open to feel the cooler air hit your skin, your stomach rising and falling as you catch your breath. The pair of you lay there, lost for words, unable to move in the afterglow.

After a while, he nudges his nose into the crook of your neck.

“Love you, querida.”

“Love you too.”

Frankie kissed your shoulder, his hand skimming your body before coming to rest on your ass.

#kinktober 2023 #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #kinktober

[legendary-pink-dot]

To Be Explored Later

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x Santiago "Pope" Garcia x female reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: Swearing, dirty talk, rough-ish sex, hair pulling, oral sex (m receiving), a couple of spanks, edging if you squint, also yearning m/m if you squint, unprotected PIV, snowballing, threesome, dom!Santi.

WC: 1.7K

Notes: Not beta'ed, sorry. First time publishing. PWP, this was just not the time for a setup or plot. Rest assured that boundaries were talked about and consent freely given by all parties before any action happens, even though that discussion isn't included in the story. We love a Consent King here. Hope you enjoy, and thank you to my dear cheerleaders and fellow Pedro Pascal sluts @basicoccult @sweettoothsugarfix @lifewithoutcosette 🥰

---

Getting railed from behind by Santiago as you sucked his best friend and teammate’s cock? Not where you thought you’d be on a Friday night, especially not when they’re about to leave for a mission. What a sweet goodbye present you were being given.

What had started as an exploratory licking of Frankie’s cock had devolved, expanded, evolved into a full-on face fucking. Delicious but fast and deep, much too deep. You pull your mouth off him, gasping for air, and he whines. Fucking whines. A battle-hardened Delta Force pilot whose calm never breaks, even when crashing a helicopter, and you made him whimper like a kitten begging for milk. This is the kind of power you crave, and Santi knows exactly how to give it to you.

Santi doesn’t stop his thrusts. He snakes an arm under yours to crush his full weight against you, shoving you into the mattress and taking what little bit of breath you’d managed to suck in. "What’s the matter, hermosa? Been begging me for weeks to let you suck Fish’s cock.” He bites the sweet swan curve of your neck.

You glance up with the one eye not completely smushed into the pillow and see Frankie leaning back against the headboard, breath heaving, watching you with a hungry stare that doesn’t waver an inch. The intensity would scare you if you didn’t know how much of a softie he actually was. Too kind for this cruel world, and all that.

“So desperate for it that I finally caved and said okay. Now you’re gonna show some gratitude and fucking take it, cariño,” Santi rasps, punctuating with sweet hot thrusts into your cunt that’s somehow still getting even wetter. “Fucking. All. Of. It.”

Frankie smirks lecherously and swipes his thumb slowly over his bottom lip, eyes still fixed on yours, in promise you hope.

One extra deep stab of Santi’s cock inside you to make you cry out before he sits back and pulls you up to sit in his lap, crooking a finger at Frankie in invitation. No second invitation needed.

Frankie moves back to you, his hard cock swinging. You know he wants to slap it against your face, bob it on your tongue. Feed it to you while he holds your jaw open with a firm hand. Or maybe that’s only what you want. His eyes still fixed on you so solidly that you wonder if he’s even blinked once since this started. 

“Be a good girl for him,” Santi hums, gently swiping your hair out of your face and into a loose bunch. “I’ll help you. Here.”

He fists your bunched hair and pulls your head back, hard. Straight rail line of nerves travelling from your scalp to your cunt, and he knows every stop on the route. Santi’s calloused hand spans the entire back of your skull and settles fingers into the grooves as he pushes your head forward, forcing your mouth to slide down Frankie’s cock, inch by torturously slow inch. Frankie hisses, cool droplets of spit raining on your forehead, soothing the fire.

True to his word, Santi doesn’t stop until you’ve taken all of it, right down to the base until you’re almost choking. “That’s it. Look how pretty. Doesn’t her mouth feel sweet, Fish? Fucking told you it would.”

Frankie groans loudly and stills himself, dangerously close, wrapping a hand around Santiago’s to keep your head right where it is. Santi stops moving inside you and you feel their fingers intertwine in your hair. Strangely sweet, probably an unconscious gesture. Something worth exploring. Later.

Frankie’s other hand snakes around Santi’s bicep for balance as he lets Santi pull your head back, all the way off until only the tip is left resting on your tongue. It’s delicious and just when you think you finally have a moment to appreciate it, Santi shoves your head down roughly again and quickly back up, forcibly driving your mouth up and down Frankie’s length, setting a brutal pace. “Yeah, that’s it,” he croons. “Fuck. Swallow it. Take it. Take him.”

You cry out. Or it would have been a cry, if your mouth hadn’t been stuffed so full of cock. Tears start to form in your eyes, you gag, but you keep going, because Santi told you to and he wants you to. You want to. And you’ll take Frankie any way you can get him. Santi has never entertained the possibility of sharing you, ever. This is special.

A hard smack on your ass brings you back. Santi starts driving back into you, in and out, wrecking your cunt from behind, one hand still gripping your skull and the other now around the front of your neck, one finger stroking under your jaw as Frankie holds him up and braces him with all his strength.

“I can feel him fucking your throat, cariño,” Santi gasps. “He’s so fucking big. You’re such a good girl, such a good filthy fucking sweet girl, taking him like this.” You squeal around Frankie’s cock at the praise and he twitches in your mouth with a loud groan. Oh, you are a good girl. So good. You know it.

“Who do you want to come in you first, Fish or me? Nod once for him, twice for me."

Santi shifts his angle to hit that sweetest of spots inside you and you don’t know, don’t care, can’t move, just don’t stop. Sliding into that blissed-out zone where time stands still, where you lose all connection with everyone and everything. Haze and stars.

Smack. “Answer me when I’m fucking you. Him or me?”

Strong fingers press bruises into your shoulder and you don’t know whose they are, don’t care, give me all the bruises please, mark me as a reminder of you for when you’re gone. You’re so close to coming that you almost bite down on Frankie’s cock. That just makes him moan lounder, thrust harder, you feel the heat of his stare on your face even if you can’t see it. You nod once.

Frankie finally pipes up, breathless and heaving. You like how he only speaks when he has something to say. “Both. She wants both, don’t you, honey?” Is this the way he talks during a mission, voice so deep and intentional? Shit. Gimme more of that. Your shaking legs and throbbing clit can wait.

You pull your mouth off him with a wet, pornographically loud slurp and meet his whining stare. Fuck that intense gaze, going straight to your cunt like that, especially when it’s on fire. Special indeed.

“I’m not sure,” you murmur shyly in your most fake innocent-virgin voice as Santi grinds to a halt inside you with a yelp and a squeeze. You know he hates edging himself, he’s not a man of great patience. “That sounds a little… dirty. How do you two know when the other is about to come?”

Frankie’s eyes dart for a second towards Santi and back to you, flecks of panicked black pepper in a chocolate gaze. Gotcha. They’ve definitely done stuff before. Another thing for the Explore Later file, yes please, fuck yes if I ever get this chance again.

Santi’s breath is warm against your neck. "Don’t worry about that, hermosa. Worry about me being fucking jealous of how desperate you are for our guest. I’ll make you pay for it tomorrow.”

You wriggle your ass against his crotch and wink at Frankie, who still stares at you, the tip of his cock painted bemused scarlet and resting a millimeter from your swollen mouth. “Oh no,” you whine in the highest fakery, licking your lips and holding his gaze. Eye fucking never looked so good. Bad pun.

Rough hands on your hips, hitching you up into position. “Maleducado. I told you to show some fucking gratitude. Be nice or I won’t let you come tonight.” Empty promises. Santi’s already reaching for your clit. “We’re gonna fill you up now. Eyes on him." They already are.

Santi slams back inside you, lurching you forward, and you swallow Frankie’s cock in one gulp. Both slides sweet as honey, both men slotting home, perfect match. No more words.

Frankie has no sentences now. No intention, only sound that makes perfect sense and none. Eyes still on you.

Santi’s hand is doing its work on your clit and nerves start to fire in your core, burst on your tongue, the roof of your mouth, even down to the roots of your teeth and melting into your bones. Santi always knows. "That's it, I've got you. We've got you. You’ve been so good to us, you deserve this, come for us, cariño." Good words, breathlessly spoken just for you, or maybe for all of you.

You come first. Your moans vibrate around the velvet hardness of Frankie’s cock and he’s next to shatter, his voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it, some kind of neediness mixed with liquid heat splashing on your tastebuds and slipping down your throat. You reserve some, keep it close, willing it to rest in the mouth that you no longer have control over, as he holds himself in you as long as he can.

It all tips Santiago over the edge as he gushes more praise for you, his good girl, his good fucking girl, and you take it, all of it, like he said you would.

You twist your head around to give Santi a kiss. He also deserves a goodbye present. You swallow his moans as you feed him Frankie’s come, still hot and thick in your mouth, letting him suck it off your tongue until he’s full and sated.

He reaches out a tired arm and pulls Frankie towards him, giving him a taste of himself, being sure to let you watch how their stubbly faces scratch against each other as their tongues whirl and slide. Frankie doesn’t seem surprised at this, at all, and you watch his throat bob as he swallows what’s left. His eyes aren’t on you anymore. They’re on Santi’s.

You have so many notes now for your Explore Later file. Just come back from the mission please, boys.

#frankie morales x you #santiago garcia x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales #santiago pope garcia #triple frontier fanfic #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x santiago garcia

[frankieispunkk]

Pedro boys and morning segs

Basically just smut (mdni mum If you see this no you don’t 🤐) (mentions of Somnophilia,with consent,oral (fem receiving) piv,creampie,morning fluffiness:))

Javier Peña

In the rare occasions Javi is actually in bed with you in the morning still he loves nothing more than slowly waking you up with his hands all over your body,on your breasts,down your sides,on your ass,your pussy (with consent) once he has woken you up he will mumble “good morning Querida” before kissing you sloppily and roaming his hands down your thighs while kissing and biting your neck,”I need my morning nutrition” he mumbles and places his head between your thighs,kissing and sucking them until he gets to your heat and placing kitten licks to your clit,it’s not long before he starts licking long strips of your pussy taking it all into his mouth,moaning with how good you taste. After he makes you cum he is back up from your thighs and kissing you aggressively making sure you taste yourself on his tongue,before slowly sliding into you,once he bottoms out he will let out a loud groan,”take me so fucking good cariño,fucking made to take my dick” he thrusts into you carefully making sure not to go to rough this time of morning (however,when he gets home that night prepared to be fucked into the mattress)

He cums inside you with a large growl,”imma feel you up baby,make you grow with my child” he knows you can’t have children together,Columbia being way to dangerous to raise a child in but roleplay doesn’t do anyone harm right?

Frankie morales

On the mornings that you and Frankie are not woken up by your toddler jumping up and down on the bed at 6am because “it’s time to get up” (she insists it’s time to get up because it’s light outside) you make the most of it,Frankie starts by honestly just admiring you,thinking how the fuck he got so lucky to marry someone so beautiful,he runs his fingers up and down your curves and the places he knows you are most insecure about before waking you with sweet kisses.

“Good morning cariño” the sun shines on his golden skin and he couldn’t look more beautiful if he tried “mmm good morning handsome” you sleepily say while caressing his shoulderblades “little monkey is at her abuelas today,how about we make the most of it huh?” Frankie smirks and starts kissing you all over,”that tickles francisco” you playfully squat his ass,Frankie is often  actually playful in bed,and you love it,it shows he trusts you. Your laughs turn into moans as he starts sucking gently on your tits swirling around each Nipple with his skilful tongue before moving down to your waist and thighs and winking at you,he immediately dives in to your pussy,devouring you and grinding his hips into the mattress below,Frankie often cums just from eating you out,he says it’s better than sex,feeling and tasting your juices then making you come under his tongue and fingers. He keeps a steady pace,and places one hand on your boobs to play with your nipples knowing that sends you over the edge “cum for me baby,please I need to taste your cum” Frankie says into your pussy,the vibrations of his gruff voice sending you over the edge. You cum all over his face,and he comes back up with a smirk..the wet patch in his boxers confirming your suspicions that he already came. “Tasted that good huh?” You whisper to him,”always do baby girl,god you make me cum just by looking at me with those eyes” Frankie chuckles and goes to get a warm wash cloth for you both,he insists to clean you up even though he knows you are capable to doing it yourself. “There all done” he whispers and lies down next to you snuggling into your chest (well boobs) “you are so beautiful” he mumbles,”you’re just pussy drunk francisco” you chuckle and play with his hair,you both end up falling asleep again not planning to get out of bed for the whole weekend.

Joel miller (pre outbreak)

Joel is already up and taking Sarah to school and letting you sleep in for a bit,he doesn’t have work today so he stops off at Starbucks and gets you your favourite breakfast sandwich and iced coffee,he comes back home to find you still sleeping so he wakes you up with a kiss to the forehead “hey sleepyhead” he chuckles,”hey! It’s not that late!” You chuckle “Suppose I’ll have to keep these all to myself then” he shows you the breakfast sandwich and coffee” “mmm Joel you know exactly how to spoil me” you half moan half laugh. He laughs and joins you in bed “one condition sugar” he says in that Texas drawl you can resist,”I get to have my breakfast too” you know exactly what he means by that and you smirk “ok old man only because you are so sexy like this” you ruffle his unruly hair kiss him passionately. He tastes like coffee and mint gum and you can’t help but crave for more “who’s the needy one now huh?” Joel teases,”I’d say it’s equal” Joel rolls on top of you running his callused fingers down your body “let’s get this thing out of the way” he pulls down your sleep shirt and takes his shirt off “mmm so sexy like this” he chuckles “all for you Joel”you say breathlessly. “ good girl” Joel takes one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks it until you are squirming under his touch. “Joel,need more” you stutter.

“Tell me what you need hunny” he rests his head on your chest.

“Need you inside baby,please.”

“Absfuckinglutly” Joel tosses his jeans off and kisses you slowly “you ready baby?”

“Yes” you moan softly

Joel pushes himself in slowly while capturing you in a passionate kiss the stretch is absolutely amazing. “Feel so good Joel” you moan. Joel only grunts in response. “Fuck yes,pussy takes me so good baby girl,fuck you were made for me” Joel whispers into your ear.

“Oh Joel…I’m going to cum baby”

“Come for me sweetheart,cum all over my cock”

You come with a shout and joel cums in sync with you with a loud “fuck”

“I love you” you say into his hair as you come down from your highs.

“Love you too sweetie,also you forgot about your breakfast” he laughs. “You taste better anyway.” You chuckle and kiss him softly. You and Joel spend the day in bed together cuddling and…other activities.

Marcus pike

Oh sweet baby Marcus,he loves lazy mornings with you and he actually feels guilty that he always wakes up with a hard-on every morning you are next to him. He will quietly get out of bed to bring you breakfast (pancakes obviously) and gently call your name to wake you up “good morning sweetheart” he says when you finally awake.you look around to see he has brung you both breakfast in bed “Marcus darling you didn’t have to do this” you say while taking the breakfast from the bedside table “but I wanted to,you’ve been working your butt off lately and you deserve it” he kisses you softly before tucking into his pancakes. You and Marcus eat your breakfast in a comfortable silence,you both too tired to function yet “you’ve got some syrup on your cheek” he chuckles,”come here let me” Marcus wipes the syrup of your face…kinda wishing he just licked it off. “You could of just licked it off ya know” you laugh “i wanted too” Marcus whispers and feeds you some more pancakes…making sure he got syrup on your cheeks…this time licking it off sensually… “there” he teases “come here handsome” you motion for him to lie down next to you,he almost immediately wraps you captures you in a passionate kiss “wanted you all fucking morning sweetheart” “oh yeah is that why you made me food…you certainly know the way to my heart mr pike” Marcus chuckles,”maybe that’s half the reason why,I just want to see my beautiful wife happy” he fumbles on top of you and starts kissing your neck and boobs gently sucking on them. “You ok?” He gently says. “More than ok babe,this is heaven.” You run your fingers through his hair,”mmm feels good” he mumbles. “Gotta make you feel good too,he reaches down to your sleep shorts and…rips them off “sorry” he laughs. Your laughs turn into moans as he laps your pussy over and over,”MARCUS” you moan,he is always so good at eating you out,so slow and sensual but he knows every single part of your body like the back of his hand,knows every single sweet spot,knows how to make you cum in mere minutes. “Fuck baby can feel you clenching my fingers,you close” he whispers,”so close baby so close” Marcus fingers you while sucking on your sensitive clit sending you over the edge. “That’s it baby” he coos “I love you so much.” He comes back up to join you in a passionate kiss,”need your cock Marcus” you whisper. “Already?” He teases,”don’t tease me” you chuckle. “Well I’m not gonna say no” he laughs then slowly pushes himself into you,earning a glorious moan from the both of you. Sex is always about intimacy with Marcus,it doesn’t matter what position you are in,Marcus always makes it his number one priority to make you feel on top of the world. His thrusts as slow or as fast as you want. “Need you slow today baby” you say softly “of course darling,tell me if it’s to much ok?” Marcus thrusts in and out of you in slow passionate strokes,taking his time to make love to your body. He kisses every inch of you he can kiss while he mAkes love to you,always has. “Sex is about the women imo” Marcus said the first time you slept together. And he stays true to his words. You always come first. “Shit I’m not gonna last long baby” Marcus moans “it’s ok babe,come for me baby need to feel you fill me up” Marcus also has a Massive praise kink,and likes to be praised. “Fuck fuck fuck” Marcus shoots his load in your pussy,making you cum in the process. “Shit I love you” Marcus collapses onto you,”I love you too marc so much” Marcus prides himself in aftercare,he goes to get a warm cloth for you and even gives you a massage if you asked (although it will probably lead to more sex) you and Marcus end up cuddling up in bed all day watching old movies…although you did return the favour by making him cum with your mouth.

#pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña smut #frankie morales #frankie morales smut #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike smut #joel miller pre outbreak

[ghostofaboy]

Rock Bottom - Group Activity

Summary: Frankie is spiraling after Tom’s death. Drugs lead to some unhealthy friendships, and too ashamed to reach out to his former teammates for help, Frankie is drawn into a world he’s afraid he can’t get out of.

Tilly wants to show Frankie one of the videos he collected from Gavin.

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morale/Original Male Characters Rating: Explicit. Serious over 18s only Word count: 2382 Chapter: 23/?

Warnings: Dubious consent, group sex, gangbang, anal sex, mentions of past drug use, double anal penetration

Note: This is a fic with gay and bi characters. Please make sure you read the tags/warnings. Header by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Part 22 / Part 1 / Masterpost

As the weeks turned into months, Frankie’s new reality slowly took shape. Having finished his notice at Malcolm’s repair shop, Frankie was now working full time for Tilly. While that mostly meant days spent in the garage tending to the classic cars or services some of Tilly’s regular vehicles, Frankie was now providing his other service more regularly as well.

Almost every weekend was spent at Tilly’s now. Usually just the Saturday, where Tilly would fuck him for a while before they both got on with the rest of their weekend. However, there was the odd time Tilly wanted him Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Those were usually for the more intense sessions, where Tilly would spend hours opening Frankie’s ass up to take a massive dildo or a fist. Thankfully, whenever one of those weekends was on the horizon, Tilly gave Frankie plenty of notice.

Things with Tyler were going well, and Frankie looked forward to precious moments with his young boyfriend. On the weekends he wasn’t with Tilly, Frankie would go to Tyler’s where they would spend every hour wrapped up together. Sometimes Frankie would help Tyler set up for a shoot, but more often than not they’d spend their time with one of them balls deep in the other. Sex with Tyler was always fun, filled with laughter and kisses; the complete opposite of sex with Tilly.

Then there was rehab, which Frankie was due to start soon. The program Will had found for him had sent him a pack through, detailing when and where he would be expected to attend each week. Finally, things with Benny seemed normal again. They had hung out a couple of times, with Will there, but Benny hadn’t brought up anything that Frankie had told him. Frankie was honestly grateful for that. As far as he was concerned, Benny already knew too much about his shameful bullshit. But, all in all, life looked pretty stable; from the outside.

Internally, Frankie was as anxious as ever. He knew, logically, Tilly was not a good person. Although he’d never seen any evidence of that himself, with Tilly treating him with care and affection, Frankie knew that this was not a man to cross. But for now, Frankie had to play the game. He had to open his legs on command and deal with it. At least until he could put together a plan.

After tidying his tools away, Frankie made his way into the main house at Tilly’s estate. His stomach growled quietly, eager for his lunch, as Frankie ducked into the downstairs bathroom to wash the oil and grime from his hands. He had kept meaning to ask Tilly if he could get a sink put in the garage, but so far the request had slipped his mind. 

Drying his hands, Frankie opened the bathroom door and was about to return to the garage when he heard someone in the kitchen. Pausing for a moment to listen, Frankie strained to hear who was speaking. Tilly was meant to be at his office until five, but the more Frankie heard, the more he was sure it was Tilly.

As the voice got louder, Frankie wasn’t sure whether to stay and listen or leave as it became obvious that it was Tilly and that he was talking about Frankie.

“...you’d love him. Fantastic ass. Yeah? I mean, I can only ask.” Tilly gave a hearty laugh. “I don’t own the guy. Look, I’ll ask then if it’s a go I’ll set everything up. Ok, yeah. Ok. I gotta go. Talk to you later, Ian.”

Frankie could hear Tilly coming out of the kitchen and quickly dipped back into the bathroom. He could hear Tilly’s footstep pass the bathroom and the door to Tilly home office open. After a few seconds, Frankie didn’t hear the door close, so taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped out.

“Frankie?” Tilly called out immediately. His cheerful voice ringing out from the other room, the sound of it making Frankie’s cock react instantly.

“Hey.” Frankie ducked into the office to find Tilly stood by the window looking out onto the back garden. “I didn’t know you were home.”

“Yeah.” Tilly smiled, shrugging as he closed the gap between them. “Wasn’t in the mood to stay cooped up in the office. Besides, I wanted to see you, although I was going to wait until you’d finished today.”

“Oh? What’s up?” Frankie could feel his cock hardening and his face started to heat up. As much as he hated to admit it, he loved the effect Tilly had on his dick.

“I wanted to give you an update on the videos young Gavin took of you.” Tilly reached out, stroking along Frankie’s jaw as he spoke, his eyes drifting down his body. “I’ve had him tracking them all down. He’s been giving them to me, and yesterday he assured me that he’s found them all.”

“How many were there?” Frankie murmured as Tilly’s hand crept down his torso.

“A lot.” Tilly grinned as he cupped Frankie through his jeans, his thumb running along the length of his erection. “Most were of you and him, pretty run-of-the-mill stuff. You know, lots of oral, anal, and many, many close-ups of Gavin’s own cock. But there were a few of you with others. Would you like to see some of them?”

Frankie’s eyes snapped to Tilly’s as his heart jumped into his throat. “You have them here?”

“Of course Frankie.” Tilly locked eyes with him as he started to unfasten Frankie’s jeans. “I have to keep them safe. Can’t have them floating around out there for just anyone to watch. Why don’t you take your clothes off while I pick out something for us to watch?”

Frankie’s hands moved on their own, pulling off his clothes as Tilly keyed in the code to his safe and pulled out an external hard drive. Tilly went and sat at his desk, connecting the drive to his computer as Frankie removed the last of his clothes. His cock was achingly hard, longing to be touched, but Frankie waited patiently until Tilly was ready.

“There.” Tilly smiled, pulling open his own trousers to expose his twitching girthy dick. “Almost ready, bend over for me, Frankie.”

Frankie moved closer, leaning over the desk and spreading his legs as wide as he could. He could hear Tilly opening and closing a drawer. Frankie knew what was in that drawer, this wasnt the first time he’d been bent over this desk. Sure enough, the familiar sound of the click of cap could be heard before Tilly’s lubricated fingers entered him slowly.

Frankie let out a soft gasp as what felt like two of Tilly thick fingers plunged into his ass and began pumping. Frankie didn’t need to be prepped too much, but he knew Tilly loved to watch anything in his ass. Dildos, plugs, fingers were all regularly inserted into him, along with a few unusual things from time to time. A beer bottle, a candle and a cucumber had also been used on him over some of the more intensive weekends at Tilly’s.

After fingering Frankie for a few minutes, Tilly tapped him on the ass cheek. That was Frankie’s signal to move, to come and sit on his cock. Swinging his leg over Tilly’s knees, Frankie positioned himself, allowing Tilly to ready his dick before guiding Frankie down onto it. Inch by inch, Tilly filled him until Frankie was fully seated on Tilly and his back flush against Tilly’s chest. 

“Are you ready?” Tilly reached forward towards his keyboard, shifting inside Frankie as he did, pulling a moan from both of them. “I picked one of my favorites.”

“Ready.” Frankie growled, his eyes moving to the monitor in front of them.

The video began as soon as Tilly pressed enter, filling the screen with what looked like a frat party. Groups of half naked young men were laughing and drinking while sucking each other off as the camera wandered through the party. Two large jocks were spit roasting a skinny blond guy on the dirty carpet, making the cameraman laugh, and Frankie recognized the voice: Gavin.

As Gavin continued on, the camera started to focus on a larger group in the kitchen, stood in a circle around a figure on the floor. Frankie’s heart started to pound in his ears, and his cock throbbed as he realized who he was looking at. As Tilly bucked up gently, urging Frankie to move, Frankie watched as his own naked form came into view on the screen. Past Frankie was on all fours getting fucked by a sweat covered frat boy, surrounded by about eight or nine others all in various states of undress masturbating furiously over him.

From of the look of him Past Frankie had already been fucked several times that night. Come spattered his face and body as he gasped, moaned and laughed. The guy fucking him finished, pulling out and Gavin zoomed the camera in on Past Frankie’s gaping ass. The crowd cheered as Past Frankie pushed a thick load of come out of his ruined asshole, laughing as it dripped onto his balls before pooling on the floor.

“Look at you.” Tilly whispered in his ear, reaching up to play with Frankie’s nipples. “You know how many I’ve watched this? You look fucking amazing and we’re not even at the best part.”

Frankie rolled his hips, relishing the growing heat inside him as he watched frat boy after frat boy fuck him in the video. The sound of skin against skin almost drowned out the sounds of moaning on the screen as Frankie rode Tilly. His cock bounced, gently tapping his stomach as Frankie let Tilly split him open while Past Frankie was spit roasted on the grimy frat house tiles. 

The screen went black for a moment before flickering back to life, this time in a bedroom. Frankie felt Tilly’s breathing start to pick up as his hands went to Frankie’s hips. This must be his favorite part, but all Frankie could see right now was Gavin switching the camera between his own face and a very young looking student blowing him. 

Tilly was thrusting up into Frankie now, his fingers gripping his hips as Frankie tried to focus through the intoxicating feeling spreading through his body. He wanted to watch the rest of the video, he needed to see what he used to do. He had no memory of this night, but it looked like he enjoyed himself, judging by the grinning and laughing.

Tilly was getting close to finishing and Frankie knew it, as he frantically fucked up into Frankie. Keeping his eyes glued to the screen, Frankie couldn’t stop himself from letting out a gasp as Past Frankie finally came into focus.

Gangbanged. Frankie remembered Gavin saying something about letting a bunch of frat boys gangbang him. Hearing it had been one thing but seeing it here in front of him was something else.

Past Frankie was sandwiched between two guys on his back, both their dicks stretching his wrecked asshole, with his head hanging backwards. Three more guys were taking turns fucking his throat while he held a cock in each hand. In total, seven guys were fucking Past Frankie at once, with more watching over their shoulders. His body was stained with come, with clumps in his hair and mustache. His legs were held open, displaying his hard cock bouncing with each thrust of the men as his body was used for all to see.

With a loud, strangled cry, Frankie came, shooting thick ropes over Tilly’s desk and monitor. His vision swam for a moment as the shockwaves overtook him, before Frankie slumped back, leaning against Tilly as he tried to catch his breath. Behind him, he heard Tilly let out a low, throaty groan and could feel the hot seed filling his ass. 

For a few moments they sat there breathing heavily with nothing filling the silence except the obscene moans coming from the video still playing in the monitor. The frat boys were switching places, moving around Past Frankie, shifting him as they needed, before filling him with their cocks.

“I’m so glad you enjoyed watching it as much as me.” Tilly purred into his ear, leaning forward to hit pause. The still close up of Past Frankie’s hole stuffed with two cocks filled the wide monitor. “I love this one. Love watching take all that dick.”

“Fuck.” Frankie panted out, slowly standing up, feeling Tilly’s shaft leaving his ass. “I don’t remember any of that. But…” He trailed off as he rounded the desk, looking out towards the window.

“But you found it a turn on?” Tilly stood up, not bothering to tuck himself away. “Would you want to do something like that again? When you’re sober, so you can remember?”

“I don’t know.” Frankie murmured, looking out over the garden. He could feel Tilly come up behind him and push a finger into Frankie’s come filled ass. Arching his back, Frankie let out a soft moan. His cock was hanging limply, but he knew that wouldn’t stop Tilly and his libido. 

“I have some friends. I’ve told them a little about you, nothing that could identify you, of course.” Tilly pushed in a second finger, pushing some of the come inside Frankie’s hole out. “We could have a little party. It’d be a better fuck than drunk frat boys.”

“I mean…” Frankie couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward, giving Tilly better access, resting his arms and forehead against the cool glass of the window. “It was… hot… sexy… I looked like I was having fun.”

“You were.” Tilly cooed, and Frankie could feel a third finger being pumped into him, pushing more come out to run down his leg. “I’ve watched everything Gavin has given me. You always look like you’re having the time of your life. It would be me and four friends. Nothing would be recorded.”

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.” Frankie stammered as Tilly removed his sticky fingers. 

“That’s all I ask.” Tilly grabbed Frankie hip, turning Frankie to face him. “Now, come on upstairs. I’m ready for something a little more substantial.”

#frankie morales #frankie 'catfish' morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #triple frontier #francisco morales #frankie morales x male character #rock bottom fic #friends of juice collective

[romanarose]

2000 followers!!!!

Graphic by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog 🥰🥰

Wow, I'm in tears y'all I can't believe I'm at 2k!!!!!

I'll be straight up, the 1k celebration was a lot ;-;

And with school, I can't commit to a whole lot especially writing things for people who don't interact with my shit at all. So, I decided to do something specific

My talent lies in series more than one shots. It's where I shine. So I think the celebration will be centered more around my different universes! Acceptable universes will be listened an linked at the bottom.

Here's how to participate!

Fuck Marry Kiss

Pic 3 canon characters or OC's from any universes. If you say "Marc Spector" Specify if its from Seattle or Sunshine. Make sure I know which series bc there slightly different characterizations sometimes. Same with reader. MOST of my readers have a nickname like Little One or Madonna. Example: FMK: IYWBW Santi, Lorenzo, and Puppy Girl reader

2. Bonus chapter or thoughts (or thots)

Ever wanted to know how Zach and Lorenzo fell in love? Ever wondered what Jana and Will's friendship is like? Wanted to see what Guard Dog! Joel and Reader do for fun? Now is your chance! Please be clear if you're looking for thoughts or an organized chapter. Example: Can I please request a scene with how Santi calms down Laci when she has PTSD now that's she's a few years into healing? Example 2: Was wondering if you had some random thoughts of what shows Jake and Sam have watched together over the years?

3. Crossovers!

Want two characters from different universes to meet? Have a cross story ship? Think two readers or OC's would be besties? Think a pair of characters would be fun in a different AU? Come on over!

Example (From Fen): Leather and Lace Santi and Laci meet The Wrong Way Joel and Little one

Example 2 (Also from Fen): What if Sam met Becca.

Example 3: I think Angela from Blessed be the Fruit would absolutely love Candy and they should date.

Acceptable universes to ask for fics or crossovers from:

If You Wanna Be Wild (Santiago Garcia x Latina!Reader/OC x Javier Pena) with @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction Sunshine Starlight Sweetheart Brightside (Steven Grant x OC x Marc Spector) Seattle (Marc Spector x Jewish!OC) Leather and Lace Universe (Santiago Garcia x OC, Frankie Morales x AfroLatina!OC, William Miller x Vietnamese!OC, Ben Miller x M!OC) Awakening (Reader x all 4, IronPope, FishBen) Darkness on the Edge of Town (Joel Miller x reader, no age gap) DBF!Joel Miller Holiday Fucks (Joel Miller x reader, large age gap) Pieces from my dark side blog @romana-after-dark are allowed too. I have 2k followers here but Ill want to open the worlds in here to the event.

The Wrong Way (Dark!Joel Miller x reader, Dark!Tommy Miller x reader DDDNE) Guard Dog (Dark!Joel Miller x Dark!reader) Blessed Be the Fruit (Dark!Joel Miller x darkish!reader) Puppy Girl (dark!Joel Miller x reader, pet play) Room's on Fire (Reader x Santiago, Francisco, Will, Ben, FishBen, FishPope)

If you have other ideas, just ask!!!

Spring Break is coming up so im excited to do some of these and my commissions!

I CANNOT thank my lovely followers enough for all this!!! I love writing so fucking much and many have reached out to me about fics being healing for them

so, thank you. I mean it. Man of these stories, like LaL universe or TWW have been healing for me, processing a lot of feelings through them and i pu tmy heart and soul into my stories, so it makes me so happy and proud yall want to read.

#romana's 2000 follower celebration #triple frontier #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #santiago garcia #jake lockley #joel miller #moon knight fanfiction #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #triple frontier fan fiction #dark joel #dark joel miller #santiago garcia x reader #follower celebration #romana is blessed

[undercoverpena]

BAD DAY

francisco morales x f!reader

warnings: angst. sad girl jo hour. comfort!frankie. bad day!reader. work is mean, and frankie is kind. also wrote entirely on my phone, so if there are errors, pls pretend there aren’t.

you: hey, don’t think I’m gonna come over. had a bad day, just need to shower and sleep. sorry! I miss you xx

it’s been a bad day. rough, horrid. almost turbulent. one of those one-thing-after-another kind of days.

the ones where you fire off a text to cancel plans and lean on the steering wheel to level your breaths.

you’re sorry, and you miss him.

two thoughts which revolve around the ripped-open pit in your brain as soon as you’d put them in the text. because you are, you do. hating yourself for being a disappointment, for letting him down—for wasting his time—as you turn the key to spark your car to life as you lift your head.

the drive home is just as torturous. hitting every red light—the radio playing all the songs which grate. doing so until you flick it off, sitting in the thick silence of your own making.

frankie would make it all better. five minutes in his company, and you’re sure you’d want to smile—you’re just unsure if your face could make it happen. he deserves better than seeing you like this, downtrodden and broken.

when you pull onto your drive, the rain is still coming down—hammering its watery fists against the roof of your car. then it begins pounding on you, doing so until your key unlocks the front door, darkness and emptiness greeting your sad mood like a friend.

usually, you’d care that you're leaving puddles behind you. tonight you don’t. teeth chewing on your bottom lip, cutting the skin, making that copper taste flood your thought.

you think of calling him. selfishly listening to his voice as you try to ask about his day, hoping he won’t ask you about yours. it’s why you don’t call, placing your phone on the side, staring at it under the glow from the streetlight through the window.

tomorrow, you promise. tomorrow you’ll call him.

your clothes make it more challenging than needing to as you peel them from your skin. a bond having been created between flesh and cotton that it makes anger swim with tears. almost feeling suffocated, eyes brimming as your shirt unsticks from your back and meets the tiles with a slap.

then you’re under the shower, letting hot water warm your bones as tears (thick and full of stress) careen down your face.

your fingers have pruned for a while before you turn the water off. stepping out, doing a poor job of drying yourself—and then pulling on one of his jumpers.

the one hung on the back of your bathroom door. an accidental thing he’s left behind—a welcomed one in your eyes.

it goes well with your sweats, not that it matters. your bare feet shuffling across the floor to your kitchen, stomach groaning, droplets falling down your neck to your collarbone. it tickles, distracting you.

you blame that for why it takes a second before you smell it. before you hear it.

sizzling. accompanied by the distinct sound of a knife on a chopping board. a sound you know from only three places: your childhood home, late-night cooking shows and francisco morales.

you doubt it could be any of the former, but as you round the corner, you’re thankful it’s him.

all hatless, rolled up sleeves and soft brown eyes. his gaze on you, taking in the sight of you (likely wondering if he can have his jumper back) before the kindest, most gentle smile slowly adorns his face.

it warms you—the last few parts of you that the shower did not.

you almost ask how, why. lips curling around them, yet something clogs in your throat. sticks to the side, latches in and makes it hard to form syllables, never mind words.

deep down, you know the answer to both, anyway: it’s just because.

because this is more than dating.

because you matter—more than he can find words for, and your ears are ready to hear.

because he cares for you—knew you needed him, and this is how he cares.

your bottom lip wobbles at the silent answer. the one your brain fills in from how his brows lift ever so slightly and his eyes pool with more adoration.

more tears threaten to break the dam at the sight.

something he must be able to tell, wiping his hands down his worn jeans, leaving the knife and the half-cut salad as he moves towards you, closer and closer.

you don’t feel him make impact at first, but you smell him. all cedar and musk, a scent you associate with home—with him.

and then you feel him, his chest against your front, his neck against your face as his arms wrap around you, as though he can hold you together with sheer will.

maybe he can.

because it feels okay now, he’s here—he’s safe.

and while you hadn’t wanted to cry, you do. but not because you had a bad day. but because you’re not sure what you’ve done to deserve him.

he’d known something was wrong at lunchtime. when you’d called him, voice all soft—edges of your words brittle.

his gut worry had been confirmed when he read your text.

something niggling, twisting inside of him. so much so, he didn’t think as he grabbed his hat and keys. put his truck into reverse and pulled off the drive.

it crossed his mind he should call. check. not wanting to invade your space, yet—

Frankie has been shut out before, by others. the silence (them wanting something but not asking) cracking down the centre, not sure what to do, even less so when they rounded on him, asking why he didn’t do this and he didn’t do that. I shouldn’t need to ask for you to be there. but it turns out they did.

with you, though, he knew. knew what needed to be done, what he wanted to do. it’s why he pulled up outside your place—spotting your car in the drive. the car lights being cut, the wipers stopping as more rain blurs his sight.

you were home, but the lights weren’t on.

his teeth nipping at his thumb, eyes staring—waiting, wondering. seconds stretch into minutes. the feeling—the one stemmed from a need to make sure you’re okay—tightening in his chest.

fuck it, he thinks, getting out of his truck, moving to yours, spotting how it's unlocked, a dread filling him as he moves up the porch to your door.

earlier, weeks ago, you’d told him where you kept a spare. half-hidden, one of those Amazon-bought fake rocks, and a sea of others so similar around it. he didn’t need to furrow, to search, he knew the one—saved it in his mind when you showed it to him.

for emergencies, you’d said—but your lips had curled into a smirk. like? he’d questioned. and you’d shrugged, faking innocence. you might fancy breakfast with me or something?

it slides into the lock with ease, turning it—greeted by no shout or scream. he steps in, his boots squelching, seeing small puddles that lead a line.

then he hears it—

a shower and your sobs. ones that echo out and hammer against him—pecking at muscle and flesh.

it takes him no time to find your car keys, lock your car before he shuts the door behind himself. his hat removed, boots following before his jacket slides off, and he folds it near your door.

just until you’re out, he tells himself. palms spreading down his thighs, moving to your kitchen, checking you have food, only to find no leftovers, nothing quick.

frankie knows you well enough to know that you don’t cook for yourself much, even when you’ve not had a bad day. his hands moving, rolling up his sleeves as he stares at what you have—an array of choices hurtling through, ones that require spices he can’t be sure you have. so he does the best he can.

frying. chopping. so focused on being quick, tidy—he looks up to find you standing there.

there’s not a version of you he wouldn’t find attentive. you took the breath from his lungs that first night you smiled at him—made his heart double its pace when you talked to him for the entire night.

but you looked worn out, tired, and drained. like you’d had chunks of you taken out all day.

and it hurts, wounds. cuts more than a blade from an attacker or a bullet from an unseen rifle. his hands releasing the knife, hearing it—even if you’ve spoken no words.

why?

because, he wants to say. because you’re having a bad day, and it’s the least I can do.

because I care, and this is how I can show you.

you matter. a lot.

but he doesn’t say any of that, instead hoping the words make it to you from his stare. wiping his palms down his jeans, turning down the cooker as he moves closer, watching, wanting you to have time to push him away if you so wish to.

you don’t.

relief flooding, mixing and concocting with the earlier worry—not settling until he has you close. chin on your head, feeling your breaths along his neck—your hands balled up on his shirt, clinging to him as though he’s all you need to breathe.

frankie gets it.

as he holds you to him, feels you wobble and crumble, he’s pretty sure you’re all he needs to, as well.

an: I made myself cry, if I’m honest—huge thanks to G. I heart you.

#francisco morales x reader #francisco morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x you #francisco morales fanfiction #frankie morales triple frontier #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #triple frontier x reader

[wannab-urs]

You call the shots babe,

Can you please write a little subby Frankie blurb for me ? 💜💜

Why yes, my darling. You can.

I may have accidentally written 1200 words lol.

Warnings/Content: sub!frankie, soft dom!reader, anal fingering (m recieving), pegging, comeplay kind of? Excessive praise. Reader's body is not described in the slightest so they can be any gender, but it's probably implied they don't have a dick since they're using a strap? Idk. Enjoy besties

Frankie Morales Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

Anything for you, babe

gif source

“Francisco, baby, I’ll make you feel so good. Just let me try it. Please?” You do your best to imitate his puppy dog eyes -- the ones you’re never able to resist. Frankie sighs, tipping his head back and looking at the ceiling like he’s saying a silent prayer. 

“Anything for you, babe,” Frankie says, just a tad sarcastically. You jump on top of him where he’s perched on the bed, tackling him back into the pile of pillows and smothering his face in kisses.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you I love you,” you gush out. You squeeze his cheeks in your hands and plant a final kiss on his lips with an exaggerated “MWUAH!” before climbing off him and running to the closet.

“What are you doing, cariño?” You look over your shoulder at your gorgeous husband and give him a smirk. 

“Getting my strap, duh.” 

“Wait! Right now? You have a strap? Why do you have a strap?”

You sit back on your heels, holding your harness and a hot pink 5 inch dildo up triumphantly. “Babe, I told you I had a girlfriend before you. Remember?”

Frankie rolls his eyes and scrubs his hand over his face. “Yes. I remember.” He always gets pouty when you talk about your exes. You’d find it annoying if it wasn’t so fucking adorable. Tossing the strap on the bed, you straddle Frankie and give him a reassuring kiss, fluffing his hat-smothered curls with your fingers. 

“I’m going to take good care of you, Francisco. And we can always stop if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” Frankie nods and wraps you in a tight hug. 

“I trust you, amor.”

----

Thirty minutes later, you have Frankie sprawled out on the bed, pillow under his hips and hands tightly gripping the sheets. He looks beautiful like this, a flush crawling up his broad chest, muscles taut with pleasure, head tipped back to reveal the column of his throat. 

“That’s it Frankie, good boy. Taking my fingers so well, baby.” Frankie whimpers, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and squeezing his eyes shut. “Does that feel good, baby?” You’re slotted between his thighs, braced on one hand by his shoulder. Your other hand is working Frankie open, making sure he’s ready to take you. 

“I asked you a question, Francisco,” you say sternly, crooking your fingers to hit the bundle of nerves inside him.

“YEah! Fuck! Yes, baby!” Frankie gasps out, throwing his head back. His thick cock is hard and leaking against his stomach. “Please, baby,” Frankie whines. 

“You’re so pretty when you beg, baby.” You slide down his body and grip his cock in your free hand, gathering precum from the tip and stroking him languidly before taking the plush head in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around him before swallowing him down to the base, massaging his bundle of nerves at the same time. Frankie’s hands fly to your hair and his hips arch off the bed as a loud moan erupts from his throat. 

You pull off him with a pop and slip your fingers out of his ass, lube dripping from his puffy hole. “I think you’re ready, Frankie. You want me to fuck you now?” 

Frankie takes a deep, shuddering breath and nods. You lean up to press a kiss to his forehead. “Do you feel good, Francisco? Use your words.”

“So good,” Frankie whimpers. You stand up and slip the harness on, grabbing the lube and slicking it up. You settle yourself back between Frankie’s thighs and line the tip of your pink dildo up with his hole. Frankie reaches out for you and you slip your hands into his, leaning forward and pressing them to the mattress by his head. You press a gentle kiss to his lips and shift your hips slightly, slipping the tip of your dildo into him. 

Frankie’s hands grip yours hard and his whole body tenses beneath you. “Relax baby, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” You kiss him slowly, deeply, sliding your tongue against his pouty bottom lip and into his mouth. His body slowly relaxes, and you push into him at a slow, smooth pace, mouth not leaving his until you’re fully seated inside him. 

“How do you feel, Frankie?” 

“Full… good… so full,” Frankie’s voice is breathy and his brows are pinched in pleasure. You smile knowingly, thinking about how it feels to be stretched wide on his thick cock. 

“I know baby, I’m gonna move now, okay? You’re doing so good for me baby, just breathe.” You retreat slowly, keeping a careful eye on his face for any signs of pain. You sit up higher on your knees this time and when you push back into him, Frankie’s face lights up in pleasure and his hips buck up toward you again, a string of curses falling from his lips. 

You pick up the pace a bit, making sure to graze his prostate on every thrust. His cock bounces on his stomach, fully hard again. You untangle one hand from his, planting it on the bed beside him. “Touch yourself, Francisco.” 

He reaches between your bodies and takes his cock in his hand, stroking himself in time with your thrusts. “Good boy, Frankie. Taking my cock so well.” 

Frankie flushes even redder at the praise, and you’d think he’s embarrassed by it, but his hand speeds up and his hips grind down with every thrust into him. You smirk down at him. “You like being my good boy, Frankie?”

“Y-Yes! Please, baby can I cum? Please?” You can’t believe he asked you to cum. It’s possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. 

Frankie’s eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen them, black pupils engulfing the honey brown of his eyes. His bottom lip is stuck out in a pout and you lean forward and kiss him again. “Of course, baby. You’ve been so good for me. Cum for me now, Frankie.” 

You lean back and take his hips in your hands, digging your thumbs into the soft flesh. You thrust into him, hitting his prostate dead on every time. His hand is flying over his cock and his whole body shuddering with his impending orgasm. God, he is so fucking gorgeous. 

Frankie’s legs go rigid and his free hand grips the sheet so hard the corner pops off the bed. He yells out a moan as he cums hard, painting his chest and stomach with ropes and ropes of cum. You still your hips, buried all the way inside him, and swipe a finger through his spend. You bring your finger to your lips and suck it clean before leaning forward to press soft kisses to Frankie’s forehead, nose, and lips. 

“You’re perfect, Francisco. My perfect, gorgeous boy,” you whisper against his lips. You gently slip out of him and stand up to take off the harness. Once you’re stripped, you turn to head to the bathroom and get a washcloth to clean Frankie up. 

Before you get a step away from the bed, Frankie wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug. You squeal as his cum smears all over your back. “Gross Frankie!!!” You yell, squirming to get away from him and his now sticky cum. 

“Where are you going, cariño? I haven’t taken care of you yet.” 

------

Join the party!

#gin's 1k party #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction #Frankie Morales #Frankie Morales fics #Frankie Morales fan fiction #Frankie Morales x reader #Frankie Morales x you #Triple Frontier #whorehomies

[jksprincess10]

With or without you 4 (ending) || Javier P. x reader x Frankie

Summary: Javier tries to win you back with the help of Frankie ( 3500 words) Catch up on the other parts before this one:

With or without you

With or without you 2 

With or without you 3  

CW: MMF dynamics, blowjob (m/m), public-ish sex, slight angst, minimal editing, no yn, pet names, sub!frankie, dom!javier, repressed and no homo !javier, very bi! frankie, oral sex, shower sex, threesome, DP (two Ds in one V), squirting, fingering, masutrbation, pussy slap, butt slap, creampie polyamorous dynamics, slightly soft!javier, fluff, lots of love.

You ignore Javier all week, giving him one-worded sentences, when necessary, at work. It pains him, the way you won’t even look at him. But he deserved it. If he wanted you, really wanted you, he would make things right.

He finally gets your attention when he hands you an envelope that wasn’t work related. Clearly.

You look at him, confused, while he gets out of your office in silence. You open the envelope, where you find a single paper with two addresses and a date.

A fancy restaurant.

An even fancier hotel.

**

Javier needed Frankie’s help. Desperately. He knew he had fucked up, bad. You were ignoring him since that night, and sadly, that’s how he realized how much he needed you.

Frankie made you happy and he wanted to learn how to.

He was waiting at a table for two, a whiskey glass between his fingers and a cigarette dangling from his lips, watching the empty beer in front of him. He didn’t think Frankie would come.

But there he was, going up to the table with a pit of nervosity in his stomach.

“Huh… hi. You wanted to see me?”

Javier motions at the chair in front of him and he sits down, making himself look smaller in front of the other man, even though he was the biggest of the two.

“Beer’s for you.” Javier says simply.

Frankie nods and sips on it, surprised that it wasn’t poisoned.

“Morales, do you love her?” He finally asks as he leaves his cigarette in his ashtray.

The other man lifts his cap and runs a hand through his curls, before folding his arms.

“Yeah. I do.” He responds frankly, cheeks slightly pink.

Since that date, you spent more and more time with him. And he couldn’t live without you anymore now that he had you. Frankie expected anger from Javier, but instead, the latter laid his hand across his face and sighed.

 “Do… you?” Frankie finally asks.

“Yeah. But I guess I’m too late.”

“No… not necessarily. She told me… she wants us both. And I don’t think she’ll choose Javi. It’s not… fair to ask her to choose.”

“So, what do I do?” Javier asks after a long sip of whiskey.

“You have to win her back.”

“And you’ll help? Why?” Javi frowns.

“Because she loves you and I love her.”

Javier stays silent. He can’t really process the emotions swirling in his stomach, can’t really identify them. So, he relies on anger. Because it’s the least complex emotion between all of them.

“What does she even like about you, Morales? If she liked me all this time, I don’t fucking get it.”

“Have you forgotten, Javi? How good I can be?” A sly smile plays on Frankie’s lips. He would usually be so shy around Javier, but now… he knew he had the upper hand. He had it since… that last time.

Fuck. The asshole had become bold.

Javier gets up abruptly, shaking the table in the process. “Fucking excuse me?! ¿Crees que eres mejor que yo? ”(you think you’re better than me?)

“No, I don’t. Solo estoy diciendo que he sido bueno contigo.” (I’m just saying I’ve been good to you.)

Javier steps beside him and grabs him by the collar of his shirt. Francisco lets him, chewing on his bottom lip, repressing another smile.

“Do you need a reminder, Peña?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Javier curses.  “Come with me.”

It was dark and late on a weeknight, and the streets were nearly empty. Javier pulls him in the nearest alleyway, and Frankie really thinks he was going to hit him when he holds him by the collar and presses him against the building bricks. He closes his eyes, waiting for the impact of his fist, but instead he feels the distant memory of Javier’s lips crashing against his. For a few seconds, Frankie forgets to breathe, but when he finally does, it’s a faint whimper that dies in Javier’s mouth. The latter swallows it, and keeps kissing him, angrily.

Eventually, his hands relax, let go of him. Frankie’s hands are on his cheeks when he pulls away, a mixture of anger and lust darkening his gaze.

“I’ll be so good to you and her, Javi. And you’ll be so good to her.” Morales reverses their positions, Javier’s back hitting the wall as he closes his eyes. “I’ll help you.”

“Damn you, Morales.” 

Javier’s hands are on his shoulders, and he pushes him down to his knees. Frankie complies. The DEA agent doesn’t know why he’s doing this again…. Without the woman he loves. But anger and need are blurring in his mind, especially when Frankie’s working on opening his belt. The zipper finally opens, and Javier’s cock is free, Frankie’s hand around it. He gives it a few pumps, but he’s already hard.

Javier has been hard since the other man started saying some depraved stuff.

“Don’t make me fucking wait, Morales.” Javi growls. His hand grabs his head. “Open your mouth.” Frankie obeys, and Javier pushes on the man’s head, making him swallow his length. He closes his lips around it and Javier sighs, between pleasure and shame. Frankie hollows his cheeks and lets Javier take over, the latter thrusting between his lips. It’s fast, and messy, and Frankie is trying so hard not to gag.

Maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t fucked anyone since you two last did, but Javier comes hard and fast, spilling in Frankie’s obedient mouth. He swallows and keeps sucking until Javier pushes him away.

The DEA agent puts his pants back on correctly and clears his throat.

“So… let’s work on winning her back?” Javier asks.

The ex-pilot gets up and nods.

**

You chase after Javier, who barely made it out of your office.

“Are you trying to buy me back, Javi?” You ask as you hold up the paper in front of him. He turns around and walks towards your office, with you backing up until he closes the door.

“I’m not, hermosa. I’m just trying to make things right. I’ll pick you up at 5.”

“If this is some sort of competition…”

“Frankie knows… " He justifies. "Oh and… no need to choose clothes to wear.”

“Okay…”

You don’t know what to do with yourself. You want to kiss him, but you don’t. You can’t give up so easily. You simply let your gaze follow his silhouette as he leaves your office again.

**

There’s a heavy lump in your throat as you finish getting ready, and your stomach is upset. You’ve been close to Javi for years. But he never treated you… romantically. You were scared of falling harder for him. You were scared of being rejected.

You wait in your living room, only wearing a thin, cream colored dressing gown. You didn’t smoke, but you suddenly wanted a cigarette.

Finally, the door opens, and Javier lets himself inside. You look up at him with a smile.

He’s handsome, wearing a suit you saw him wearing at work. Black, simple, with a red-brown tie. You get up to greet him properly, and you let yourself touch him, adjusting the front panels of his jacket. His curls are soft, styled in pretty waves on top of his head. His mustache freshly groomed, cut neatly so it didn’t scratch his lip.

“Hi.” You finally say. “You’re handsome.”

His gaze lingers on the thin fabric barely covering your body. His hands lay on your waist.

“Hi… Can I kiss you?”

Javier didn’t ask, he took. So, you were surprised by his request. As a response, you cup his cheeks and kiss him gently. He tastes like mint, and a lingering taste of cigarette.    His hands squeeze your skin gently, before he backs off and hands you a bag that was at his feet.

“Get dressed and we’ll go. Did you pack an overnight bag?”

“Yeah.” You take the bag from him with another kiss.

You were feeling bold. You untie the dressing gown and let it fall from the floor, exposing your naked form. His dark gaze follows your every move. In the bag, you find lacey black underwear: a bra that would push and accentuate your breasts, and a G-string. You put everything on, under Javier’s hungry eyes. But still, he keeps his composure.

“We have a reservation at the restaurant, hermosa. No time for teasing.” He finally says.

“Hmmm. Later, then.” You smirk and take out the dress he chose for you: it’s black, skintight and the fabric is bunched in some places in a stylized way. You unzip it and slip it on your body, turning around for Javier to zip you up. He does, after letting his fingers linger on your skin.

You turn around and he takes all of you in; the way your dress is tight in all the right places, the way the heart-shape of the bust makes your breasts pop.

“You’re breathtaking, hermosa.”

He had never used that word for you. You feel warmth creeping up your face at the compliment. Had he taken lessons in romanticism from Frankie? Either way, it worked devastatingly well.

“Thank you, Javi. You chose well.”

You take your bag, and you leave together.

**

At dinner, you tiptoe around the subject of your anger. But finally, Javier brings it up over dessert.

“Morales is a good guy. I’m sorry I didn’t trust him with your happiness.” He says, trying to ignore the warmth in his stomach at the thought of what happened the other night. The way his lips wrapped around -

You nod silently. You can’t say it was okay because it wasn’t.

“He said you loved me. And that it’s unfair to make you choose.” Javi adds.

“So… what do we do?” You ask quietly.

“If you’ll have me… I think we can make this work. The three of us.”

You acquiesce. “I think we can do that, yeah.” A small smile tugs at your lips.

His hand grabs yours over the table and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “I’m sorry I denied you love for so long, hermosa.”

“You have a lot to make up for, Mr. Peña.” You tease.

“I do. I tried to repress the part of me that wanted more of you for so fucking long. I’m an idiot.”

You feel lighter when you both walk to your hotel. Javier had rented a ridiculously luxurious suite. The bed was giant and covered with a soft white duvet. A bottle of red wine was also waiting for you.

“I thought we were making the same salary.” You joke as you test the bed by sitting on it.

“Oh, we are, I’m just better at managing my money.” He teases. You watch as Javi takes off his jacket and loosens his tie, your mouth watering at the simple sight of him undressing.

“Don’t make me ask you to kneel in front of me again, Peña.”

“You don’t have to.”

And then, he kneels in front of you again, but this time, not to plead for your forgiveness. He lifts your right leg gently and leaves a kiss on your ankle as he takes off both of your heels. You lean down and grabs his tie with a smirk.

“If you want to do anything Javi, I’ll need you to take off that fucking dress, because it’s killing me.”

Javier’s laugh dies in your mouth as you kiss him deeply, using his tie to bring him closer. He traps you under his body, and he pulls you up a little so he can unzip your dress. You let out and exaggerated sigh of relief when you can finally breathe.

“I was going to take a shower… Wanna come with me?” You ask against his lips.

“Hmmm, you tease. Yeah, let’s go, hermosa.”

You bite your lip playfully as you follow him to the ridiculously big hotel room bathroom. You let your dress fall to the floor as Javier undoes his tie and starts unbuttoning his shirt. He admires your figure dressed in the set he had chosen for you.

“Fucking gorgeous. Turn around for me.”

You obey him, bending down and using the sink to hold yourself, your ass in full view. He lets out a low curse and you watch in the mirror as he approaches like a hunter chasing his prey. Javier grabs a handful of the soft flesh of your ass, his grip almost bruising.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“I know.” You say as you shake your ass for him.

You stop when he slaps your ass harshly, leaving a red outline of his hand. You let out a moan. But suddenly, he’s far from you again, and you hear clothes falling to the ground and the shower running.

“Are you coming or not?”

You straighten up and take off your lingerie, stepping gracefully in the shower. It would have space for at least three people, but you stayed close to Javi, fingers clinging to his golden skin. Warm water flows down your body.

“I missed you. I’m sorry for ignoring you.” You apologize.

“I deserved it.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.  

“I love you.” It’s a shared secret dying on your lips. You never thought you’d hear these words coming from his mouth, you thought he prohibited himself from love.

“I love you too, Javi. So much.”

His mouth is on your neck, on your breasts, until his knees hit the tile of the luxurious shower. Javier would always get on his knees if it meant keeping you close. He parts your legs with his hands and brings one of them over his shoulder. His mouth is on your pussy, the delicious scratch of his mustache on your skin. You’re tugging on his hair, keeping him there as your back arches against the shower wall. He’s devouring you without restraint now that he has you. Your moans echo in the bathroom and you’re coming undone incredibly fast. After years of dancing around with your partner, he knows where to push, where to lick and where to tease.

Your ecstasy is interrupted by the sound of the door opening, and you push Javier away, but he shushes you, grabbing on your thighs firmly to keep them open.

“Hi, baby.”

You’re relieved to hear Frankie’s voice and see his figure outside of the shower glass. Javier attacks your clit with his tongue while you look at Frankie, your mouth falling open.

“Don’t mind me, keep going.” Frankie smirks, his cheeks red and warm. After spending more time with the two of you, he realized he enjoyed watching. Seeing the way you fall apart slowly, then all at once when Javier keeps pushing and pushing.

So, you obey him, your body relaxing against the tiles as you close your eyes and let yourself get taken away by pleasure. Javier fucks you with his tongue, before licking a long stripe along your seam and sucking on your clit until your orgasm is at arms’ reach again. You vaguely hear a belt opening, the heavy buckle hitting the fabric of pants.

When Javier lets you go, you turn your head to look at Frankie, the way his hand is caressing his thick cock. You feel yourself almost drooling. You don’t miss the way Javi’s dark eyes follow the slow movement of Frankie’s hand.

“What do you say if we fuck her together, Morales?”

Frankie’s eyes open slightly, half-lidded as he looks down at the both of you with a lazy smile. “Yeah. I’d like that.” He bites his lip, the blush on his cheeks getting darker and darker.

Your toes curl at the suggestion. You barely have time to get out and dry yourself until you’re thrown on the bed.

Frankie undresses completely and settles beside you, while Javier kneels on the mattress in front of you.

“Do you think you can take two dicks at once, hermosa?”

His hands part your thighs as his dark eyes admire your glistening pussy. You feel your face heating up, feeling like every inch of your body is being inspected. Javier smirks and slaps your pussy slightly, emitting a wet, obscene sound. You let out a small yelp.

“I think she can take it.”

“Hmm. Let’s get her ready for a bit. I think she deserves it.” Frankie smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek. You let him take you in his arms, settling you against his chest. You feel his heavy cock resting against your back. He keeps you open for Javier. The agent presents his fingers to Frankie’s mouth, who takes them in greedily, wetting and sucking on them. You shouldn’t be so aroused by the physical contact they give each other, but you are.

“Good boy.” Javier praises as he slips his fingers out of his wet, warm mouth.

Aided by your pooling wetness and your lover’s saliva, Javier pushes two of his fingers inside, stretching you slowly. He moves them softly at first, until you’re asking for more. Frankie is looking down at your heat from behind you, as she caresses your nipples until they come to a peak.

Another one of his big fingers stretch you, and he moves them in and out at a punishing pace, hitting that spongey part of you every time. Frankie holds you still as you’re squirming in his grasp, crying out of undeniable pleasure. One of Francisco’s hands meet your cunt, his fingers tracing tight circles on your clit until you’re coming, your whole body shaking with pleasure. You lose your sight for a few seconds, everything going white as you gush around Javier’s fingers.

“Good job, baby.” Frankie whispers at your hear, before nipping at your lobe affectionately.

His soft hands grab your hips as he situates you better against his body, his cock springing free and resting against your seam.

“I’m gonna go in first.”

Javier nods and watches simply in fascination as you stretch around Frankie’s cock. Your lover’s name come out as a pleasured sigh, and you feel already full. He thrusts tentatively and asks if you’re okay. You nod and ask for more again.

Javier chuckles as he holds your legs open and situates his body between your and Frankie’s thighs. He takes his hard length in hand, pumps it a few times, before letting the pinkish head spread your pussy even more.

There’s a slight burning sensation, but Javier goes slow, until he’s completely sheathed inside of you, his dick resting against Frankie’s. You feel like you reached heaven, while having the two men you loved inside of you. Nothing would be equally as good as this moment.

“You okay?” Javier slurs his words, drunk on your tightness choking him.

“Yes. Move, please.”

He does a tentative motion, thrusting slowly, which provokes a domino reaction; the friction affecting both you and Frankie equally. You moan in unition, which encourages Javier to do it again and again, the movement comparable to waves hitting the cockpit of a boat. You feel like you all won’t last long, the sensation too overwhelming. You feel so full. So loved.

Javier leans over your body, capturing you lips with his as he keeps thrusting softly.

“I’m not going to last long.” Frankie whispers shamefully.

“It’s okay.” You respond, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

Javier’s kisses trail from your lips to your jaw, to your neck. “Let’s make sure our girl comes at least one more time, then.”

Our girl.

Your heart flutters like the wings of a butterfly in your chest.

Javier resumes his thrusts as Frankie’s hand settles between your thighs, two of his digits drawing fast, clumsy circles on your clit. It’s all too much; the two men hitting both of your pleasurable spots at once. You’re crying out, not ashamed that the whole hotel is probably hearing you fuck right now since you’re being so loud. You feel on the verge of an explosion, your walls soaking both of their dicks at once. You hear the men curse as you’re dizzy with pleasure, you vaguely feel them spasm inside you and filling you up with their seed.

They take turns pulling out very slowly, and Frankie holds you from behind as you rest on your side, not caring about the white liquid staining your thighs. You vaguely hear Javier kissing Frankie, then you feel his lips on your cheek, before you hear him go to the bathroom.

You jump a bit at the cold sensation of a wet cloth on your pussy, but you’re eventually grateful as it relieves the burning sensation of your swollen pussy. Javier settles on your other side, an arm laying over you and over Frankie. You open your eyes and look at him with mischief in your eyes.

“You’re awfully cuddly with Frankie, now.”

Javier rolls his eyes and pulls both of you close. “Are you okay, hermosa?” He asks to talk about something else.

“Hmmm.” You hum and you turn your head slightly to kiss Frankie’s forehead, the man already drifting to sleep. “I think the three of us can make this work. I love you both.” You whisper with a tired, but content smile.

“Love you.” Frankie mumbles as he holds you tighter, his arms around your middle.

Javier smiles and kisses your forehead.

“We definitely can.”  He concludes.

THE END

#javier pena #javier pena smut #javier pena x yn #frankie morales #frankie morales smut #narcos #triple frontier #javier pena x reader x frankie morales #javier x reader x frankie #frankie x you #frankie morales x you #Frankie Morales fan fiction #Frankie Morales fics #Frankie Morales x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena x y/n #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut