The years go by. The retail jobs that Steve thinks are temporary keep piling up, but he has no idea what else to do with his life so he just keeps on keeping on.
Until a large tree falls on the lawn of the little house he managed to buy and he gets the quote on removal and the number literally hurts his soul.
He buys a small chainsaw instead. Over the course of a few weeks, he gets most of the branches cut up. He collects some large rocks from down by the quarry and digs out a fire pit in his backyard. On his days off, his friends come over and they sit out back and have a few beers. The pile of wood dwindles.
The giant trunk is another story though. His chainsaw isn't big enough for it. Burning it would take forever, and Steve's terrified he'd disappoint Smoky the Bear. He's at a loss.
Until he sees another giant trunk in someone's yard carved into a bear.
He knows what to do then. Not a bear, but something else. Through trial and error, the trunk becomes the rough shape of a woman, the remnants of the branches like a crown on her head. It's not as amazing as the bear he saw, but it's his. He finds he loves the smell of sawdust and the feeling of creating something.
Just like that, Steve realizes what he wants to do. It takes several months and a lot of yard sales, but he scrounges up the tools he needs to start woodworking. He learns to measure twice and cut once. He makes tables and chairs and carves them with art and designs that get better and better the more he learns. Shockingly, people actually buy his pieces.
Even more shocking comes the realization that he's making enough money to do it full time. He puts in his two weeks notice at Melvald's and hands in his assistant manager badge.
He's not sure he's happy, but he is content. It feels good to work hard and actually have things to show for it. It also feels good to work muscles he hasn't used since high school. He carries on for a few years like that, creating and learning and creating some more.
Then Eddie Munson blows back into town. Invited back so Hawkins can have their most famous alumnus sing the national anthem at homecoming. Steve's honestly surprised he shows at all.
"Can't believe you didn't tell them kiss your hairy ass," Steve says. Because of course Eddie ends up around his fire pit, sipping on Steve's cheap beer like he doesn't have three Grammy awards on his mantel. The years fall away with each drink, reminding Steve of just how much it had hurt when Eddie left. He'd wanted Eddie so bad back then, more than he'd ever wanted anyone. He can feel the echoes of that deep ache across time.
"Pfft. Don't you know all famous people wax our asses now? All the rage in LA." Eddie cuts a look at him and smirks when Steve rolls his eyes, grateful for the lighthearted moment to snap him out of his maudlin nostalgia. "Really though I thought about it, but then I thought it would be way funnier to donate a metric fuckton of money to Hawkins High with the stipulation that it go to the theater and band programs. Kind of bummed they couldn't honor my other request though."
"Which was?"
"My old Hellfire throne. I miss her, but apparently she's not around anymore. Something about water damage."
"Oh yeah. Water main busted a few years back and flooded the theater. I remember that."
"Yeah. Had to settle for the promise they'd make a game lounge and stock it with all the supplies a budding young nerd needs."
"That's really nice, Eds."
Eddie shrugs. "I've been known to be nice on occasion. You'll come to homecoming, right? Moral support?"
Steve hasn't been to homecoming in years because he sees the other people who stayed in town all the time, and he has no interest in seeing the people who didn't. He can only answer the same questions so many times. Oh, I'm doing woodwork now. Yep, I still live right here. Nope, still not married, no kids.
He goes though, and he answers the uncomfortable questions. Because Eddie asked him to. Because no matter how long it's been, Steve can't deny that some part of him still...
He says goodbye after, and Eddie leaves again, and Steve tries not to think about that too much in the following days.
He's halfway into the project before he realizes what he's building. He'd seen Eddie's throne quite a few times back when. What he doesn't have memories of, he makes up. He adds his own touches too, making it a throne fit for a rock star, a nerd, a friend.
He carves ornate patterns, he creates scenes of dragons being beaten back by a man with a guitar, crowds of people that could be knights or concertgoers.
It's his favorite piece he's ever done, and his hands are shaking when he dials Eddie's number. He gets an answering machine and stumbles through a message.
"I made you something. I guess it's kind of silly, but it's here in Hawkins if you want it. Or I'm sure you can afford the shipping if you don't want to come. Just, I made you a chair. It's more of a... Well, you'll see. Unless you don't want to... It's Steve by the way." He hangs up before he can embarrass himself even more.
Eddie doesn't call him back. One day passes and then another. Steve tries not to let it get to him. He works on orders and new projects. He enjoys his little backyard oasis. He rents a few movies and thinks they're okay.
He's debarking some wood in his driveway when the rental car pulls up, Eddie stepping out in ripped jeans and an old Metallica tee. "Hi again, Stevie."
"Oh." Steve clears his throat. "The thing's in the garage. I'll..."
Eddie doesn't say anything for a long time, circling the throne, running his tattooed fingers over each little detail.
"You made this whole thing?"
"I did."
"For me?" Eddie looks at him then, one hand still touching the wood like he doesn't want to let go. Even under the harsh lights of the garage, his eyes are such a warm shade of brown that Steve forgets to breathe.
He nods. "For you."
"Why?"
There are a hundred answers Steve could give, but he spent so long not knowing who he was or who he wanted to be. Too long. "Because you'll always be the one that got away. Because some part of me will always want to make you smile no matter how long it's been."
Eddie falls into the throne like he just got the wind knocked out of him.
"You don't have to respond to that," Steve says. "You can just say thank you and take the chair."
"I can." Eddie blows out a breath. "But that would be incredibly stupid considering half my early ballads are about you."
"What?" Unfair. Steve doesn't have a chair to fall into.
"Oh sure, I changed the hes to shes for a while there because..." Eddie waves his hand. "But they're about you, Steve. God, I should've asked you out. I just thought..."
Hearing those words is a lot like seeing that carved bear all over again, something clicking into place that wasn't quite right before.
"Go out with me now then," Steve says. "Or stay in. I've got a frozen lasagna and I rented Contact."
"Steve Harrington? Asking Eddie 'the Freak' Munson on a date? Did hell freeze over?"
"Pfft." Steve takes a step closer toward what he wants most. "Hell froze over in 1986, Eddie. You were there."
Five months and a lot of long distance phone bills later, Steve opens Harrington Woodworking in Los Angeles. That same day, Eddie takes photos for Rolling Stone posing in an ornate throne in his living room. He tells the reporter exactly who made it and what he means. At concerts, he starts singing those ballads the way he always wanted to. More often than not, Steve stands in the wings singing along.
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𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞
paring(s): Miles Morales x fem!reader, Miles morales x spidey!reader
summary: you were two months pregnant and it was only a matter of time before you had to stop hiding the child growing inside you and tell your boyfriend miles little did you know he has his own surprise for you as well
word count: 1.3k
request: Hi, can I ask for a, Miles Morales x pregnant reader please. Where reader is pregnant with Miles baby. She doesn't know how to tell him because she is skared that he's going to leave her and the baby. She doesn't realize that he knows and that he can hear the baby's heartbeat and not just hers. Just the rest love and fluf please. You can write the rest however you want. If you can do this thank you, if not that is ok.
warning(s): pregnancy, some tears, hormones, kisses, pet names, just a pinch of perinatal depression, I’m thinking this can be college-ish set, pet names, fluff, drinking while pregnant (a glass of wine is okay!), and language
A/n:—GIFs; @dailymilesmorales— I had to set my little angst whore brain aside for this and kept rewriting to make sure it was more happy than sad
Miles watched You in awe as you lied in bed staring at the feeling you were glowing under the late sunlight that seeped through the curtains of your shared bedroom Your was shiny, your nails were growing out, and your skin
that damn skin
“Hey love, I’m gonna go out on patrol for a little while” Miles had brought himself to your side of the bed down on both knees to get down to eye level with you as you let out a small breath before replying
“Okay, I’m sorry I can’t go with you” You felt beyond guilty for lying to your boyfriend this long he’d been taking up your shifts to patrol the city and holding you tight when you needed the comfort
What you had been telling him hadn’t necessarily been a lie you were feeling sick and the running to the bathroom every morning at the crack of dawn for the past two weeks was enough to prove it but you weren’t really telling him or anyone for that matter the full story
“Don’t apologize, ill be back soon okay?” Miles reassured you with that warm smile of his pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose as you nodded and soon enough the brunette was out the door on the way to protect the city
You finally decided to get up heading to your bathroom as you ducked to the cabinets level pushing aside the cleaning supplies and razors to wear two individually wrapped pregnancy test lied flat
You had already took some plenty actually that had all gave you the same results in someway
Two pink lines
or a
blue positive
You unwrapped them both carefully making sure not to tamper with anything even though deep down you knew it was true and that you were pregnant
You sat on the toilet as you went through the process you had many times before as you found yourself staring at the wall waiting as the timer on your phone silently ticked away the remaining time left
You would be more than overjoyed if you didn’t have the voice in the back of your head taunting and chastising you for even hoping Miles would stay with you and raise your baby together why would he you’ve been together merely four years your anniversary was three months from now
Or it would’ve been. Your little family would’ve been something breathtakingly beautiful.
You stared at yourself in the mirror a hand over your belly you weren’t showing but nonetheless it was a little version of you growing inside it and it made your heart squeeze in your chest
You slipped off your clothes and turned the knob to the hot water of your shower to sweep your thoughts clean you would tell Miles when he got back from patrol and would take care of your baby on your own if it came down to it
💌💌💌💌
Miles didn’t know what to do.
It was around two to three weeks ago that he heard something out of the ordinary, way out the ordinary.
He was lying next to your sleeping figure with an arm thrown across your hip draping over your stomach when he heard little rhythmic beats in the drums of his ears usually yours sounded more… lively and vibrant these ones were soft and dainty
Miles listened a little harder and he could hear both beats at the same time lively, vibrant, soft and dainty finally the realization had took his breath away
He was going to be a dad
you were going to be a mom
you had a family
Miles was so close to waking you up to engulf you whole and prepare kisses around your face but he settled you must have been tired carrying around the news of having a child growing inside you and maybe you wanted to surprise him he didn’t want to ruin that for you or himself so he waited
And waited
And waited
Now it was two weeks later and Miles was still trying to let you tell you on your own he tried to gently encourage you with warm smiles and checking up on you more than he usually would to the point where he thought it was overbearing
The only reason the man knew you were aware is when he offered you a glass of wine your favorite wine and all you did was take a sip leaving the cup deserted
The only reason Miles would confront you tonight is because he was simply worried for you and the baby’s health you hadn’t been to the doctor and the brunette didn’t want to wait too long to go
So he swung to the corner shop leaving with a dozen of white roses and some of your favorite snacks you enjoyed in a bag waiting to get home to you
💌💌💌💌
You sat on the couch your leg bouncing up and down in anticipation as you waited for your boyfriend to come back home you had six pregnancy test on tucked under your thigh playing with your hands in your lap
You finally heard the window beside you as you watched your boyfriend climb through the window of your home his suit skin tight on his body book bag residing on his back
you would miss seeing him like this
“Hey… how was patrol?” You questioned timidly and Miles would be lying if he said he weren’t surprised to see you out of bed
“Hi lovie it was good, calm surprisingly.” The boy responded as he sat on the couch next to you sliding the straps of his bad off his shoulders
“I got something for you”
“I got something for you”
You both chuckled at your in sync comment as you nodded for Miles to continue he didn’t speak he just reached in his bag before pulling out a bouquet of white roses and some of your favorite snack you had been eating on the last few weeks
“Thank you baby, your so thoughtful” The lump in your throat was more prominent that ever as you zoomed in on the feeling of the plastic test under your thigh
“Now what’s my surp-” Miles sentence was cut short as you shoved the test in his lap some facing up some facing down all of the saying the same result that you were pregnant
“I’m pregnant two months, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but I-I was scared and I’m still scared and it’s okay if you want to leave I can do it by myself and-” This time you were cut short of your sobbing speech as Miles held your face In his hands his heart practically ripped in his chest as you sniffled heavy trying to keep your tears in your eyes for him to break up with you
“Oh sweetheart, im not going anywhere you hear me? I’m so glad you told me baby I’m so proud of you and I can’t wait to raise our baby together” Miles shushed you as you sobbed harder face pressed against his shoulder his suit soaking up your tears
“I’m so sorry it took me so long” You sniffled and Miles hugged you close rubbing small soothing circles on your back
“I’m just glad you told me okay? I’m so glad you told me baby” The brunette whispered running a hand over your hair smoothing it out as you began to fall asleep in his warm embrace
Miles would choose another day to tell you that he knew all this time but for now he would settle with holding you close in his arms and rubbing your belly
He held his world in his hands
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UNWRAP ME - A Frankie Morales Christmas One Shot
Summary: You gift yourself to Frankie as his early Christmas present, and he can't wait to unwrap you.
Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub. Images just for aesthetic, no reference to Reader.)
Word Count: 4.1k
Scoville Smut Rating: 🌶️🌶️🌶️ "You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."
Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.
Warnings/triggers - Established relationship/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/fingering/oral F receiving/Frankie's curls are let loose.
NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.
If this story isn't for you, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.
Author’s Note: Hot, spicy Christmas fun to kick off my 12 Days Of XXX-MAS, with that hot, spicy tamale, Frankie. 🥵 There is some Frankie Spanish, I've not provided translations as it's easy enough to Google if you're curious, but you can probably figure it out. 😉
12 DAYS OF XXX-MAS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
Enjoy & Happy Holidays! 🎄🖤
“I’ve got you something for Christmas, baby. But I want to give it to you a little early.” You call out to him.
You can hear the familial heavy padding of his feet up the stairs, as you slick on a coat of matte lipstick in the ensuite bathroom.
You pucker into the mirror over the sink regarding yourself, and smile at what you see with that devilish glint lingering in your eye.
You can only imagine what he’ll make of it, and that thought pulses hot through your veins in wanton excitement.
You spritz on a faint mist of your favourite scent - one that you know will make his mouth water too - and linger discreetly in the doorway, watching Frankie now rifling around in the wardrobe, completely oblivious.
He has his broad back to you, and you can see him putting laundry away in neat piles on the shelves inside the doors. His grey t-shirt rides up as he reaches into the furthest crevices of the wardrobe, revealing the tanned, fleshed divots of his lower back.
His worn, scuffed jeans are slung low on his hips and those muscles flex and ripple under his skin as he stretches, and your own mouth begins to water.
“Did you do the ironing?” You question, perplexed.
“Yes, I did the ironing,” he grunts, in a voice lazily mimicking yours.
You see him shake his head; those wild curls growing unruly at the nape of his neck. The faded blue cap is slapped on his head in a regular trademark manner. Even when indoors, Frankie can’t abstain from plonking it on to keep his waves under check.
“And it’s not Christmas yet. So, don’t think by giving me a present early that you’re going to get one early, hermosa. Sé lo que estás haciendo.” Frankie confirms, his voice being absorbed into the clothes, but you can hear him smiling as he says it, and that soft snort as he chuckles to himself.
“Are you sure about that?” You question, smirking.
“Si, bebita. I’m not falling for it. You’ve just gotta wait until-”
He glances over his shoulder, stops instantly as though you’ve put him on pause, and then does a slow full turn. His face is unreadable; his lips pursed as his eyes seemingly cloud over for a few moments.
Grinning, you beckon him over, but he’s rooted to the spot; his legs suddenly feeling that if he takes a step forward he’ll collapse prone into the carpet.
Frozen in all the possibilities of what’s unfolding in front of his eyes as he looks you up and down, and his cheeks start to glow brighter than Rudolph's nose.
Frankie swallows, his mouth suddenly very dry and claggy like he’s been licking said carpet all night. Your eyes lock onto his; just as cavernous and darkening, feeling like you can fall right into them as they drink you up.
You study his face; like a chameleon camouflaging against its surroundings, Frankie’s face works through every single shade of shock, astonishment and heated lust there is on the colour scale.
“Well, shit...” He baulks, tossing the wardrobe door shut behind him. “¿Es todo esto para mí?” Frankie questions, barely able to take you all in.
You can see him visibly sweating.
“It’s all for you, baby. Feliz Navidad.” You smile, stepping fully into the bedroom from the ensuite doorway.
“Fuck.” Frankie remarks with a look like he’s just been punched in the scruffy jaw and can’t quite comprehend the audacity of it.
“Are you going to unwrap me?” You ask, with a villainous smirk and he’s utterly lost for words.
Your body is wrapped in scarlet silk and velvet lingerie. Your breasts are sculpted to perfection inside a corset-style basque; the front lined with several velvet bows in the same colour that holds it all closed around your ample mounds.
All tied up neatly and tightly that you’re threatening to spill out over it at any moment.
You’re wearing a matching red thong, along with red lace-topped stockings, and your satin heels that match. A real candy cane dream, all shimmery and scrumptious before him as he licks his lips.
Your eyes sparkle at him through subtle, yet smokey make-up and red lips.
He perches clumsily on the end of the bed, somewhat remembering where it is from muscle memory, and equally missing as he stumbles, sinking backwards, legs buckling underneath him.
His hand navigates over his mouth, scratching at his grey-speckled beard and looking you up and down like he doesn’t know where to start.
Like all his fucking Christmases have just come at one.
“What did I do to deserve this?” Frankie questions, his eyes moving between your breasts and pussy each time he looks you over. Shit, he doesn’t even know where the hell to look.
You come and sit beside him on the bed, resting back on your elbows so he can run his shaky hands up and down the velvet and silken ensemble.
He tweaks at one of the bows, smoothing it between his thumb and forefinger.
“Well, you did do the laundry.” You chuckle, and he tickles across your stomach with those roaming, thick fingers.
“You look-” He stutters out a sigh, eyes big and a smirk on the cusp of cracking his face. He’s staring you down as though you’re a piece of meat he can’t wait to tear into, salivating.
“I know.” You wink at him.
Frankie leans in and kisses you, his lips running over yours smoothly and softly. Soft, gentle clicks fill the room as he kisses all along your bottom lip; suckling it gently before running his mouth across your cheek and towards your neck, inhaling your perfume.
The soft nips in between his lingering kisses from those puffy, pink lips of his begin to engulf you, and your head lolls back as he kisses along your jaw and throat, planting carnage inside your pores.
“Fuck, I’m so hard.” Frankie whispers, looking into your cleavage and then up at your eyes.
His dick, throbbing and swollen, feels like it'll fire off and fly round the room at the sight of you swathed in all this sumptuous velvet and lace, all just for him.
Your hand slips down to his crotch and squeezes gently over the denim. “Mmm... yeah you are.” You grin.
“You kill me, hermosa.” He whines, almost payhetically.
Your heart’s beating faster and louder inside your chest as you lean up towards him slowly; zoning in on his mouth and crush your lips against his. Groaning at the feeling of the way those fuzzy lips graze against yours, coursing electricity through your arms and legs like you’ve stuck your wet fingers in a socket.
You can taste his tongue and the remnants of coffee beans and spearmint gum, as he slips it into your mouth and massages it with his deliciously.
Fuck.
Taking his sweet time, Frankie starts pulling on the top two ribbons, slowly revealing more of that soft, supple skin that smells of flowers and fruit; thoroughly enjoying unwrapping his gift as your breasts spill out at him.
His dark, brown eyes flit up to your face now again to read you, to relish in the feeling of what he’ll find underneath it all; the reward of your perky nipples waiting for him, and that sopping, wet pussy that he can bury his face into for hours and never get bored.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Frankie murmurs into your face; the warmth from his breath settling into your pores. "All for me, all for me..." He sighs, beside himself.
You smile; a slow, insidious beam unfolding on your lips much like The Grinch. "All for you, baby."
The ribbons are undone and your breasts revealed to him fully; it’s like he’s seeing them for the first time all over again, and Frankie could just weep at the sight of them.
He runs his fingertips across them, and you’re watching as they circle tantalisingly around your nipples; the calloused pads of them feeling the tiny bumps rising around your areolas as they harden.
He smooches over them, slipping his tongue around the peak where he sucks it into his eager, hot mouth.
You watch as he flicks that wet, fleshy muscle in his mouth back and forth over it, biting down on your lip as he gropes and squeezes the other inside his hand.
He manoeuvres himself between your legs, sliding carefully on his belly like he would creeping up on the enemy, with a mouth full of your tits.
You pull off his cap and toss it across the bed, running your fingers through his mussed hair as he suckles on you, pulling a little tighter with his teeth, making you hiss.
"Mmm," you sigh out at the feel of it. It tingles all the way down into your clit.
He crawls further up you, running kisses up your throat and the side of your face as he gets close. His long, thick fingers claw up and down your inner thigh, skimming his thumb across the lace at the top of your stockings.
He hums out in dreamy satisfaction and it’s warm inside your ear. You love him like this, free to roam your body and play with it. You’re unapologetically clawing at him and wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him in closer.
You can feel his cock, straining inside the stonewash denim to be freed, pressing heavy against your thigh. Hear how he groans with need as you grind against it.
Your mouths run all over each other; absorbing those sounds he makes snuffling out of his nose and from the back of his throat, creating plentiful melodies inside of your ears that you can tune in to all day. Frankie FM.
His hands are roaming your body, squeezing, kneading, pinching. His lips part and his eyes open up as he stares at you as you feel his fingers trail down to your centre.
You can see the subtle gold flecks inside of his chocolate irises and can make shapes in them; find yourself lost in the galaxy of them, that’s how deep they pull you in when he’s this close and on top of you.
He glances down at his fingers pulling against the thong, and wrenches it upwards. You buck and groan as it grazes against your swelling clit.
“These, are the tiniest fuckin’ panties I’ve ever seen.” Frankie husks as he nips on your lobe.
You giggle.
“I could literally tear them off.”
“I’d rather you didn’t, they’re brand new.” You playfully scold.
“I don’t give a fuck.” He growls as he breathes against your cheek. Momentarily you feel a sharp tug and hear the lace tear with ease. “I’ll open my gift how I want. Esto es todo mio.”
“Mmm,” you whine.
He rolls onto his side and smirks propping himself up on his elbow and pulls a piece of the shredded thong out from under your ass. He tosses it over his shoulder casually and smirks accomplished.
"That's better," he says.
You’re spread wide for him, feeling the yummy tingles of his fingers blaze trails down your body, stroking along your arm, over your hip and teasing around your pussy lips; barely touching them each time he ventures there between your legs.
Ghosting over your labia and avoiding your clit; the tiniest of skin-on-skin contact that makes you shudder and claw at the duvet in anticipation.
"Frankie..." You hiss as the goosebumps flood your skin.
Breathing heavier into his mouth as his tongue swims around yours when he leans over and finds your lips again.
His index and middle fingers split across the outside of your cunt that you can feel is slick and warm, and then when he sweeps back up again, he gently nudges your clit this time, sending your body into a rhythm of tingles and shocks.
“You like that, huh?” Frankie croons in delight at your reaction, he watches your face as he begins circling his middle finger over your swollen clit; tapping at first ever so gently and then rubbing in tantalising circles and applying a little pressure more and more each time he does a three-sixty on it.
"Baby... ah, feels so good." You whine.
You marvel at how he can simply play you like an instrument, plucking your stings, eliciting different tones out of you.
You watch him bring his fingers to his mouth and suck them before he slides them back between your sticky folds.
“Frankie…” You're fisting at his t-shirt.
“What? What do you want, hermosa?” He teases as he probes against your hole, barely dipping in and then withdrawing and rubbing your clit again.
“Fuck, please…” You husk. “Need your fingers inside me.”
“Like this?” You feel him breach, a lone digit sliding all the way in, up to the hilt of his knuckle and then retreating.
“Frankie!” You grab at his wrist, but he subdues you easily, pinning your hands above your head and clutching them together in his other hand.
“Stay still, baby.” He smirks.
He slips his fingers inside you again, pumping in and out slowly, grinning at you with the lewd, wet sounds they make echoing around the bedroom.
“So fucking wet for me…”
You can feel it, the warmth prickling at your limbs as it starts to spread through your bloodstream. He’s stroking deep; you can feel it bloom deep inside your belly, that delicious pressure as he curls his fingers.
It’s beginning to get too much; the intensity of the deep finger fuck pulling and unravelling your seams slowly as you brew and bubble around the edges whilst Frankie stares you down like a lion stalking its prey in the tall grass.
He goes faster, the squelches louder, as he pulls your pleasure out of you with skilled ease.
“That’s it, baby. Come for me… Quiero que acabes para mí,” he soothes.
Your thighs shake as the pressure builds and then erupts, flooding your body with warmth and a tingly glow that makes you giggle through your pants.
He pulls out his fingers and taps against your clit with them as you come. A little trick he likes to indulge in now and again to watch your thighs go berserk as your orgasm is torn from your core and shunted into your clit.
“Oh fuck!” You cry as you shake and gasp.
His other hand on the back of your neck, massages into the skin as your own hands run the length of his tan face and around the back of his head. His middle finger keeps nudging and rubbing on your sweet spot that's buzzing and tingling wildly under his touch.
He then dips his finger inside your hole, drenching it in your slick and back out again, lubing it up and rubbing it over the nub with a slick, circular movement.
Your thighs are constantly quaking, pushing you towards overstimulation as he builds you up again.
“Frankie…” You gasp out on a muted whisper, the sound of your squalls getting lost somewhere inside your throat.
"You've got another one," he husks.
Frankie kisses down the side of your neck and collarbone, before reaching your nipple again and takes it in his mouth, flicking his tongue around it like his finger is with your clit, matching the tempo.
Your hips press up into his fingers, winding around and jolting as he works that magic spell on your happy button as you come again, muttering incoherently into his mouth.
"Si, hermosa..."
He then stops and squeezes both your tits together with his hands, and tongues and sucks the warm nipples inside your swollen areolas as he nestles himself between your legs.
“God, you’re fuckin' hot,” Frankie whispers. You see him reach down and adjust himself over his jeans, and you can see how hard he is for you by that familiar, ominous shadow.
He pushes both your legs up, holding them under the back of your knees, and it pushes your ass and pussy up to his face.
He wastes no time in running his lips over your wet, sticky flesh and tasting you.
Letting his tongue circle around your clit then dip inside your cunt where he can taste that delicious honey pot centre, before suckling back on your clit again.
He licks long, fat stripes up your seam and eyes you darkly whilst he does it.
“Mmm, baby.” You whine, fisting into his messy hair. Curls splay over his forehead and you grip onto his tufts behind his ears, tugging his face further into your pussy.
He groans out contentedly - he fucking loves it when you do that.
You can hear him breathe and pant around your slit drenching him, quenching his thirst. Warm air from his mouth is blown onto it as he looks up at you with those dark eyes as he feasts.
Your fingers weave through the soft silk of his hair, petting him and stroking as he feasts expertly without coming up for air. Your fingers tousle it before you twist it around your fingers.
You tug harder on his silky roots and he grunts in response as he gnaws on your clit, making your legs judder.
“Mmmmaaahhh!” You whine out, your back arching and your body twisting.
His lips are clamped around you; his tongue lapping ferociously, and as you’re coming, he make delicious sounds in satisfaction too.
“Mmm, mmm...” He ribs through his lips.
Frankie clutches onto your stomach, keeping you as still and anchored as he can whilst you thrash about; his fingers slightly pressed into your gut and making you ride that wave and feel it all.
He licks up and down, as one of your hands goes to your head like you can’t believe it; the other still gripping inside his hair and pulling him further onto you, sending your body into a sweet dance of convulsion as he delves deep with his relentless tongue fucking.
“Oh, ohhh… fuuuccck! Frankie!”
He reaches up and grabs your hand as your body trembles and begins shaking about under him; he grips it tight, locking his fingers around yours, and watches from between your legs as you come hard around his mouth, filling it with sweet nectar he drinks down.
The lace from the stockings graze against his scruff and get caught in it as you try to crush his head. It’s a spectacular show of fucks and oh God’s thrown into the air as your body succumbs to his tongue.
"Baby, you're so good at that..." You look down at him smiling, and beside yourself as he fumbles with his belt, pushing his jeans down.
"I know," he replies, smugly. He crawls up your body, his cock dragging against your folds and smearing himself against your skin.
You reach for him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he buries his thick, hard cock inside of you.
That single sheath of him into you takes your breath away, and for a moment it’s like you can’t breathe. All oxygen stripped from the room and floating in a void of nothing where it’s only Frankie.
"Oh my God!" You pant.
He runs his thumb over your bottom lip and you kiss it delicately as he slowly builds his pace; fucking into you with deep, grinding movements so that his cock can savour every inch of your cunt that feels implausible around him.
You cling onto him, feeling his skin burn under your fingertips; the muscular curve of his arms; the smooth paunch of his stomach under his t-shirt as your hands run across him.
You can hear his breath pelting inside your ear as he trails his mouth up to your earlobe before taking it between his teeth and biting it gently, sending your pussy to its knees in subjugation of him.
"Frankie, fuck," you groan.
"Feels so fuckin' good..." he agrees.
You feel those little butterfly kisses from his eyelashes where he blinks against your skin; the soft graze of his patchy scruff catching against your throat.
You both moan out in sweet relief; your foreheads pressing against one another’s, as you’re reconnected, feeling like you should never be separated again.
The tip of his hawkish nose brushes against yours; his mouth crooking into a smile as your pants increase again, and he feels that yummy tightening around his dick, thoroughly enjoying the show of watching you come undone around him.
“Harder,” you whine to him, as he dives deeper into you, feeling every inch of him pack you out; lighting up those sparkly neurons inside your head like triggers leading to an almighty explosion of Christmas glitter and embers.
He pins your hands down above your head, resting his full body weight on them as his hips pummel into you, becoming more intense with each deep stroke.
“Fuck, Frankie!” You cry out as he breathes with you, trying to keep himself under control as you call out his name, but it’s useless; he craves everything you’re giving to him right now - the looks, the sounds, the feel of you tightening and squeezing around his cock.
“You wanted it harder.” He puffs with that crooked grin you want to taste.
Your back arches again as he brushes against the sweet spot inside, and makes it vibrate heavily within you.
Your legs wrap tighter around him, cinching him into you deeper; your fingers reach for his as he lets go of your wrists, interlocking with his digits as he kisses you once more, your mouths exploring each other all over again.
He growls out as you lock your feet together at the ankles as he ploughs deeper and harder into you; the bed creaking and squeaking under you both.
He reaches down, thumbing your clit as he thrusts harder into you. Heels pressed into his butt cheeks as he works you up again, never really letting you wander far from the midst of another enticing, sweet orgasm.
You can hear the sound of his cock inside you; that wet, heavy slapping noise as he fucks harder, works his hips faster.
He can’t keep his eyes off of you, staring at your body cinched up in the basque; all those curves and angles of you accentuated by it, tits bouncing over the top of it.
You gasp, biting down on your lip, your head straining back into the duvet as he feels you explode around his cock again; those little tremors around the head before he feels you squeeze tight around him and then release again.
"Yes! Frankie!" You call with a dying voice.
He wants to come inside you, wants you to feel what you’re doing to him. What you always fucking do to him.
You can see the need he has for you inside of his eyes; frantic and desperate. You push him onto his back and sit on top of him, lowering yourself slowly onto his thick cock.
"Yeah, baby. Like that... oh fuck." He groans as you rock up and down on him, his hands gripping around your hips, moving you into a steadily, deep rhythm that makes him bend and break.
“Ride me, querida!” Frankie hisses, encouragingly. Unable to comprehend that this could ever stop feeling so good.
You twirl and grind down on him as he pushes up with his hips, pulling you down onto his chest so he can kiss you again.
He crosses his arms over your back and hammers up into you. Heels of his feet pressing into the bed as he fucks you hard.
"Oh shit, shit!" You groan.
He ploughs in faster, feeling your slick walls tighten around him and making him work that bit harder to press on through into your cunt as it strangles and contracts around him.
He’s insubordinately beautiful, clutching onto him as you call out his name again and again with each hard stroke that he delivers inside of your squelching hole.
"I'm gonna come, fuck... I'm gonna come!" He wheezes.
Groaning loudly, Frankie’s lost as he comes; like he’s been tossed into a new dimension where nothing makes sense or is recognisable.
He forgets how to breathe for a moment; all he can see is you pulling him back towards you, saving him and rasping out with him as you both combust in tune with one another.
His cock is still twitching as he pulls out, you take a hold of it, pumping him a few times and making him groan and smirk in delight as you feel his spend dribble out of you and seep into the messy, creased duvet.
“Holy shit,” Frankie chokes on a throaty gasp.
He runs his hand around his throat a few times, beside himself before you lean down over him; his body weak and shaky.
You nuzzle into him, planting kisses over his cheeks as his fingers fiddle with the velvet bows on your basque.
His eyes are sleepy looking, like he’s dosed up on some wonder drug called pussy and he never wants off this high.
Frankie pulls you further on top of him; crushing you agaisnt his chest, his cock nestled nicely between your thighs. Sweaty curls are stuck to his forehead and he's never looked so good.
He spends the next few minutes just lost inside your mouth, holding you tight and letting his hand reach down and have a generous squeeze of your ass cheeks.
“Gracias por mi regalo, hermosa.” He sighs, contentedly. “Best gift ever.”
“You’re welcome, baby.” You smile, running your lips over his cheeks and fuzzy whiskers.
12 DAYS OF XXX-MAS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
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You rarely had a night by yourselves most days.
Majority of them, you were either hanging out with Rafe, yours or his place, didn’t really make a difference, or you were out with your friends.
This Saturday night, you were by yourself, a rare occasion.
Rafe and Sarah were in Charleston with their family for some charity that Rose was a part of. When Rafe first invited you to come, you declined, saying you’d rather stay home and hang with your friends or something (he was huffing and puffing about it for hours afterwards, until you made it up to him). When the weekend came around, you realized that all of your friends seemed to be busy: Cleo and Pope were driving out to fish with his parents and made a whole weekend out of it, John B and JJ went to Hatteras island for some surfing competition and Kie had to help her parents at the Wreck because they were hosting an event.
John B and JJ had invited you to tag along, but you a: you weren’t a good enough of a surfer to participate in the competition and b: you didn’t want to sit at the beach by yourself while the boys were in the water. You had half a mind to take up Rafe for the invitation to the charity but it was extremely last minute and you didn’t have anything to wear so you scratched that idea and came to terms with spending your Saturday night by yourself.
Since the event at the Wreck didn’t start until 7, you spent the day hanging out there with Kie, snacking on some fries, drinking your weight in iced tea and texting Rafe until you had to leave to let Kie prep for the event.
you: i’m actually so bored, i’m starting to regret not coming with you 😞
rafe❤️: told you to come, didn’t i?
rafe❤️: shows that you should always listen to me.
you: pfff, please, that is not the moral of the story.
you: maybe i’ll just go to a party 🤪
rafe❤️: funny.
You tossed your phone on the couch and ran your hand through your air, sighing in frustration. As you reached for your phone again for mindless scrolling, your eye caught onto your nails, and you paused. You hadn’t done your nails in a while, mostly because you were so busy. But now would be the perfect opportunity. So you got all your nail polishes and tools out of your closet and started on prep.
About four hours later you still weren’t done. You spent the first hour on looking for inspiration on Pinterest and then the next half hour booting up Netflix so you had something to watch while you were doing your nails. Your iced coke was chilling on the table, the UV lamp curing the last layer of polish on your right hand before you could finish with top coat. Your phone was long dead, but you were too lazy to get up from the table to plug it in, your back killing you from sitting hunched over your table for so long. Yawning, you put on the top coat on your last nail before sticking your hand under the lamp, ready to fall go to bed right after you were done. Now you remembered why you hadn’t done your nails for a while. After you were finished, you packed all the things away, plugged your phone into the charger and passed out in bed.
You woke up with a start, disoriented for a second. It felt like you’d been asleep for barely an hour, but you were unsure what woke you from the slumber, when the door bell rang again.
“What the hell,” you muttered to yourself, throwing a sweater over before you padded downstairs, hearing that the person at the door has begun to knock excessively.
“Jesus Christ, I’ll be right there!” you called, hurrying down the stairs. You glanced through the window, trying to see what psycho was ringing on your doorbell in the middle of the night, just to see Rafe standing in front of the door, clearly upset.
You opened the door, barely getting a word in before he rushed inside, grabbing your arms.
“Rafe, what the hell are you doing here?”
“Where the hell have you been?” he asked hotly, staring at you before looking you up and down. “Who have you been with? Why the fuck didn’t you text me back?”
You were starting to get anxious from his behavior and you cupped his face. “Rafe, stop. Breathe. What happened?”
Rafe took a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a second.
“You haven’t replied to a text since like before eight, and your last message was about going to a party. I thought something had happened,” he gritted out. “No one was able to reach you and my calls weren’t getting through to you.”
You exhaled deeply. “God, I thought something happened to Sarah. I’m fine, babe. I was doing my nails and my phone died,” you explained, lifting your hand to show off your nails. Rafe looked at him, his eyes narrowed.
“Pretty,” he grunted, before wrapping his arms around you. “Never do that again.”
As you hugged him, you could feel the tension bleed out from his limbs and you couldn’t help but smile into his shirt.
“You’re crazy, Rafe. As if I would ever go to a party by myself,” you huffed, pulling away to look up at him. “How did you even get here so fast? I thought you guys were supposed to spend the night in Charleston.”
Rafe clenched his jaw. “I took the boat. Ward is super pissed off because I left them stranded.”
You bit back a laugh, only shaking your head at your boyfriend.
“You’re such a worrier, I was asleep.”
“Yeah, well, how the fuck was I supposed to know that?” he muttered, pulling you back into his arms.
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author's note: quick lil drabble bc i thought of how unreachable i am when doing my nails
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