Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x Fem!Reader Summary: It’s your wedding day and there are a few surprises in store for your husband-to-be, Frankie. Word count: 3k Rating: T Warnings: Fluff fest. Language. Benny doing Benny things. You and Frankie have a preschool-aged daughter. DILF Frankie deserves its own warning. No use of y/n. I know very little Spanish. A/N: Valentine’s Day on Morales Monday?! This calls for Frankie fluff! This started as a quick thought and somehow exploded (as my thoughts always do, apparently), and I hope you enjoy it. Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope this warms your heart and soul and has you yearning for our dear Frankie ❤️
Frankie is a nervous wreck, his heart pounding in a way that makes him fear it’ll rip through his chest and destroy his rental tuxedo. A culmination of all things led him right here, to this very moment – when he finally could see his beautiful bride. It’s been a long journey to get here. Frankie can easily navigate a helicopter through damn near any condition, under any amount of pressure – but navigating a relationship? That’s been a damn near impossible feat - one he couldn’t have done without you.
A bead of sweat falls down his forehead, but he pays no notice to it. He fidgets with the finger where the physical representation of your love will soon be placed while his mind runs a million miles a minute, thinking about what he'll say when he sees you; how beautiful you are, how excited he is to finally make you his wife. He’s also reminding himself to hold it together and not find a way to fuck up this moment, this day, because today is all about you, and for that reason alone, he wants everything to be perfect.
He doesn't understand why he’s so nervous. The two of you are already married in every respect except by law: you share a home, you share expenses, and you even share a daughter together. Most importantly, you share a deep love for one another. Even with all the struggles through the years – yours, his, both – your love has never faltered. You were there for him through the cocaine addiction, through the rehab, through the weeks you were home alone with a newborn worrying he was dead in some jungle in Colombia while on that stupid mission with Pope, and through the PTSD he experienced after he returned home. Your constant unwavering support amazes him, along with how fully capable you are to give him a swift kick him in the ass when he needs it – especially when he doesn’t realize he needs one.
What did I do to deserve you?
Dozens of memories of your relationship flood Frankie’s mind as he stands in the clearing of the forest. This place is special to you both, one that he introduced to you and brought you to countless times afterward - and one you brought him to when you knew he needed a breath of fresh air to help clear his mind. Many nights were spent here stargazing in the bed of his truck, flirting, giggling, and talking about the future. Not to mention the unmentionable things you’ve done in the privacy of the forest. It’s where your relationship grew – and was sometimes tested, considering the number of arguments and deep conversations you’ve also had here. Getting married here just made sense.
Frankie senses a figure approaching from behind, drawing him from his thoughts. He quickly changes his posture, but struggles to decide what to do with his hands. He settles on standing with them in front of him, his right hand clasping his left wrist. The photographer snaps away with her camera before pausing to offer instruction, but the words are muffled in his ears. All he can hear is his heartbeat, the pulsing seeming to build in intensity as the seconds tick by.
Finally, he feels a hand tap his shoulder and verbal permission to turn around to see his bride. Taking a deep breath, he turns around, and immediately locks onto a pair of piercing blue eyes.
Wait…those aren’t your eyes.
For a moment, Frankie questions whether he has somehow lost his mind somewhere in the chaos of the day. Had the heat finally gotten to him? He’s looking at a bride, but it sure as hell isn’t his bride. It’s not you. It’s not the warm smile that he’s accustomed to. Instead, it’s Benny Miller smiling brightly at him, wearing an old wedding gown and veil he picked up at the Goodwill when this plan was first formulated. His muscular arms look absolutely ridiculous in the strapless dress, his tattoo on his right shoulder on full display. A hint of chest hair peeks out of the loosely fitted sweetheart neckline.
Realizing what’s going on, Frankie doubles over in laughter, his hands on his knees to keep him from falling to the ground. Benny immediately follows, roaring as he throws his head back. Somewhere in the background, hidden amongst the trees, Will and Santi are howling with laughter, having held it in for so long while watching it all play out. Tears fill Frankie’s eyes, and when he finally is upright again, he flicks them away, feeling the stress of the day fly away with them.
As the laughter begins to die down, Benny grabs Frankie’s hands. Looking deeply in his eyes, he says breathlessly, “I love you. I love you, Francisco. Can I…Can I please make a baby with you?”
Frankie laughs one more, then pulls Benny into a hug, the two men enthusiastically patting one another on their backs as they embrace.
“Congratulations, man,” Benny bids, breaking from his charade long enough to express her feelings to one of his best friends. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks, hermano…,” Frankie begins in sincerity. He pushes back to take a look at the man, then adds, “For whatever the fuck this is.”
Benny grabs Frankie’s face with his big hands and turns it to the side, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek, eliciting another big laugh from Frankie.
“Fuck you, pendejo,” Frankie jokes, lightly pushing him away.
“Don’t you love me anymore, Frankie, baby?” Benny teases. He pushes up on the bustline of the dress, which is hanging loosely from his lack of cleavage. Frankie pulls on the neckline, playfully looking down, causing the two other Delta members to whoop and holler in the background.
“Like what you see?” the blond man questions.
“You’re beautiful, baby!” Santi teasingly yells from across the way.
The photographer finally interjects. “Can we do a prom pose with the lovely bride?”
The two men immediately get into position, Frankie standing closely behind Benny, his hands wrapped around the younger man’s waist. Another laugh escapes Frankie’s lips, then he plants a kiss on Benny’s cheek, causing the man to chuckle as well.
“I can’t,” Benny wheezes, breaking away from Frankie. “I can feel your cock on my ass.”
“You know you like it,” Frankie jokes, slapping him on the ass before he’s out of reach.
“Oh!” Benny exclaims dramatically. “You dirty boy!”
“Get your ugly ass out of here,” Frankie commands in a playful tone, shooing him away. “And tell the other two to stop drinking until after the damn ceremony.”
"You can't tell us what to do, Morales," Will shouts.
“Fine! I’ll find someone who loves me for the way I am,” Benny responds, dramatically flipping the veil out of his face and over his shoulder before walking away
Frankie shakes his head, feigning disapproval while trying to contain his laughter, though the stupid grin on his face gives it away.
The photographer instructs him to return to his original position so they can move forward with the first look. He nods, moving to stand with his back toward the way you’d be coming from. Though he’s still anxious, he’s far less stressed than he was before. Gratitude overflows in his heart as he thinks about his friends and their willingness to do whatever it takes to ease tension. He is sure he chose the right people to stand next to him at the altar.
After patiently waiting for a couple minutes, the photographer finally says, “Alright. Turn around and take a look.”
Frankie’s confused at first, wondering why you hadn’t tapped his shoulder, as Benny had. He doesn’t question it though. Instead, he eagerly turns around. Once again, he doesn’t see you. In fact, he doesn’t immediately see anyone at all.
Hearing a little giggle, he drops his gaze and is met with a carbon copy of your eyes, though they don’t belong to you. Instead, they belong to your daughter, dressed in a flower girl dress, a flower crown on her head, dark curls flowing freely. She looks up at her father with a crooked smile.
“Hi, Daddy!” she exclaims.
“Mija!” Frankie cries, instantly dropping to her level, his arms outstretched for her. She happily runs to him.
“Hi, baby girl,” he says, holding her in a tight, warm embrace. He is in shock not just at the sight of her, but how beautifully she’s dressed, like a little lady. “You’re not who I was expecting!”
“Were you waiting for Mommy?” she questions, pulling back and standing with one of his arms still wrapped around her back.
“I was,” he responds, fussing with her dress, trying to fix where it had wrinkled. Then he adjusts the crooked crown on her head. “But I’m just as happy to see you.”
“Mommy’s so pretty!”
Frankie glows. He didn’t need his daughter’s word to know that you’re beautiful. “She’s always pretty.”
“But extra pretty today,” she emphasizes.
“Okay, mija,” he concedes. “I believe you, but I can’t wait to see for myself.”
Her little hands reach out and touch his jacket, feeling the fabric. She fiddles with one of the buttons. “Am I pretty, Daddy?” she questions.
The smile on Frankie’s face widens, revealing his dimple, watching while she examines his black tuxedo. “Beautiful.”
She looks up at him, then touches his freshly-groomed face, giggling as she feels the stubble on his jaw, which relaxes beneath her touch. “You’re pretty too.”
“Thanks, baby.”
“Do you wanna see my shoes?” she questions, backing away and lifting up her dress before he can even answer, showing off her heeled dress shoes.
“Oh, wow!” Frankie theatrically gasps. “They’re so shiny.”
“They make me taller!” She raises her hands in the air and jumps for emphasis.
“They sure do, mija,” he responds. He gazes at her, his eyes shining with pride. How did he have a hand in creating something so wonderful? He credits you, mostly, but he knows if you were here, you’d assure him that he’s had just as much of a hand in forming her.
His pride quickly turns into sorrow as he realizes that one day she will grow up and no longer need him. His eyes swell with tears, listening as she rambles on about her shoes and dress. He quickly wipes away the tears before they can fall, but it didn’t prevent her from noticing.
“Daddy, are you crying?” she asks, looking concerned.
“I’m happy, mija. These are happy tears,” he assures her. “Promise me you won’t grow up too fast, okay? I'm afraid I'll blink and you’ll be a big girl. Then I’ll be walking you down the aisle.”
She gasps in shock. “I’ll get married too?”
“One day,” he says with a nod. “If you want to.”
“Who will I marry, Daddy?”
Frankie hates when he doesn’t have answers to her questions, but he knows that there are some things that just can’t be answered. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t know.”
“I wanna marry you!”
Frankie chuckles. “No, baby girl. I’m sorry…but I’m marrying Mama, and some day, when you’re big, you’ll fall in love with someone and marry them.”
The little girl crosses her arms across her chest and huffs, stamping a foot on the ground. “If I can’t marry you then I don’t wanna marry anybody.”
Frankie chuckles. “I won’t argue with that.” He reaches up and grabs her small, soft hands, caressing them with his large, calloused ones. “That doesn’t mean you won’t have my heart forever, mija. I promise you that no day will pass where you don't feel my love. Okay?”
She nods. “Okay, Daddy.”
He offers his daughter a comforting smile. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He pulls her to him and she wraps her arms around his neck. Holding her tightly, he closes his eyes, savoring the moment, wishing he could keep her there forever, to keep her little forever, and to protect her from all the things he’d endured in life.
“Mommy!”
The sudden shriek surprises Frankie, especially because she yelled right into his ear. He winces as he lets go, allowing her to run to what made her so happy: you.
“Hi sweetie,” you greet, bending at your knees to meet her.
“Mommy, you look like a princess!” she says, looking at you in awe.
“Thank you, baby,” you say. “You do too.”
“I know! Daddy said I’m beautiful.”
You giggle. “He did, did he?”
She nods.
“Well, he’s right. Hey…” You quickly change the subject, knowing it’s time for her to go elsewhere while you get some private time with your future husband before the guests start to arrive. “I heard Uncle Benny is trying to sneak a piece of cake. You should go find him before he does.”
The girl audibly gasps, then turns and, after picking up her dress, runs off toward the large tent in the distance. “UNCLE BENNY!” she shouts. “NOOO! No cake!”
At first, you’re proud, thinking you sent her to stop Benny, knowing the little girl always wants to play police and catch bad guys in action. However, when she adds, “Not without me!” you start to question your decision. Those two are trouble together.
Oops.
Standing straight, watching the little girl run as fast as her little legs and heeled shoes can take her, you cannot help but laugh. She is perfect to you in every way; the perfect combination of you and Frankie.
Frankie…
You turn, a smile plastered on your face as you catch sight of him. He is still, standing with his feet glued to the ground, as if the mere sight of you had turned him to stone. Your heart leaps for joy the moment your eyes meet. He’s so handsome, and looking at you as if he had just seen the face of God.
What did I do to deserve him?
Biting your lower lip, you pick up your dress and slowly walk to him. He shakes his head, as if in disbelief that he’s seeing you. The moment you stop in front of him, he lets out a sob, then turns away and covers his mouth with a fist, trying to collect himself.
“Frankie, baby…,” you coo, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder.
He lets out a tearful laugh after hearing the pet name. “I wish I could say that’s the first time I’ve been called that today,” he snorts, putting his hands on his hips.
You chuckle, knowing what had transpired, having been in on the planning and watching it safely from afar. “Benny?”
“Benny,” he repeats, shaking his head once more. He inhales deeply and releases it, then finally turns to you. He looks at you with a warm glow in his eyes, tenderness radiating all over him. His eyes are dark and wet, but also warm and calming, like the cups of hot chocolate you've shared here so many times in the past.
“Dios mío…,” he mutters under his breath. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
You giggle nervously. “Not the first time you've said that.”
“You look…” He swallows and furrows his brow, trying to find the right word, but none of them seem good enough. “Incredible,” he finally gets out.
“Really?” you question, never able to easily accept the compliments he so often showers you with.
“Really. Let me look at you.” He extends his hand, which you accept, then he raises your arm and you give him a twirl, allowing him to see you from every angle. After your spin, he pulls you close to him. You let go of him and place both of your hands on his chest while his own fall to your hips.
“Preciosa,” he softly murmurs. Gorgeous.
You look up at him through your eyelashes. “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”
“Can I?” he questions.
You giggle once more, thinking he’s asking permission like some awkward teenage boy at a middle school dance. “It’s not against the rules to kiss me before the wedding. I mean, we’ve done far worse things here.”
The heat instantly rises in his cheeks. A chuckle escapes his lips as he looks down for a moment, before looking at you once more. “I just mean…I don’t want to ruin your makeup.”
“When has that ever been a problem?” you ask.
“You’re not a bride every day,” he insists.
“Frankie…,” you sigh, dramatically rolling your eyes. “Shut up and kiss me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he responds.
He immediately acquiesces, and as soon as your lips meet, everyone and everything melts away; it’s just the two of you. All you know is the kiss; all you feel is his lips pressing into yours.
You’re unsure how long your lips stay locked, but when you break, he lays his forehead against yours. The two of you stand there with your eyes closed, enjoying the presence of one another.
“It’s not too late if you want to back out,” Frankie jests, causing you to chuckle.
You open your eyes, looking up at him with all the love and adoration you can offer. “Sorry, Morales, but you’re stuck with me.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mhm. Want me to prove it?” you question.
His cocked eyebrow implies he is internally wondering what you are up to. He smiles coyly, then says, “Alright. Prove it.”
The lips of your mouth curl into a sly smile as you gently push yourself off him. He puts his hands on his hips as he watches you back a couple steps away from him. You then extend your hand to him and say, “I’ll marry you. Right now.”
He looks from your hand to the ground, a chuckle escaping his lips. After a moment, he looks up at you, a bright smile on his face, one that reaches all the way to his eyes, causing the skin around them to crinkle. It’s one you’ve seen several times before: when you first agreed to go on a date with him, when you accepted his proposal, when you told him he was going to be a father, and when your daughter entered the world months later. It was filled with love, radiating happiness from deep in his heart’s core, the glow of it warming your own body and soul.
Without hesitation, he reaches out and grabs your hand. “Alright. Let’s go get married.”
Hi if anyone thinks racism or transphobia (or literally ANY kind or prejudice or discrimination) is okay get the fuck off my blog.
What happens once you kill yourself? Because I'm ready to go.
You wanna know what happens once you kill yourself? Your mother comes home from work and finds her baby dead and she screams and runs over to you and tries to get you to wake up but you won’t and she keeps screaming and shaking you and her tears are dripping onto your face and your dad hears all the screaming and runs into the room and he can’t even speak because the child that he loved and the child that he watched grow up is gone forever and finally your little sister runs into the room to see what all the fuss is about and she sees you dead. The person she looked up to and loved. The person she bragged about to her friends, the person she wanted to be just like when she grew up, the person that made her feel safe. But she’s never really going to get to grow up and smile and laugh and love because she’ll always be consumed with this feeling of missing you. And now there’s something missing from your family and they can barely look at each other anymore because everything reminds them of you but you’re gone and hurts more than anything. and you think that your mom never cared because she was always busy and yelling at you to finish your homework and clean your room and forgot to say I love you sometimes but really, she loved you more than anything and she doesn’t leave the house anymore, she can’t even get out of bed and she’s getting thinner and thinner because it’s too hard to eat. Your father had to quit his job and he doesn’t sleep anymore, every time he closes his eyes he sees his baby dead, and the image never goes away no matter how much alcohol he drinks. And at school your best friend sees that your seat is empty and she gets this sick feeling in her stomach and that’s when she hears the announcement. You killed yourself. And suddenly she’s screaming and crying in the middle of class and no one even bothers comforting because they’re all busy sitting there staring at your empty seat with tears dripping down their cheeks and all she wants is for you to hug her and tell her it’s gonna be okay like you always did, but this time, you’re not there to do it, everything is dark now that you’re gone and her grades are slipping, she barely goes to school anymore and she ended up in hospital after taking too many pills because she wanted to see you again. the girls who used to make fun of the way you dressed feel their throats get tight, they don’t talk to each other anymore, they don’t talk to anyone, they’re all in therapy trying so hard not to blame themselves but nothing works. and your teacher who always gave you a hard time stares blankly at the wall, she quits her job a few days later. And then your boyfriend hears the news and he can’t breathe, he still calls you a lot just to hear your voice and he talks to you on facebook but you never message him back, he can’t fall in love again because every girl he meets reminds him of you, he’s never going to get over you, he loved you and he cries himself to sleep every night, hating himself and slicing his skin because he couldn’t save you and he’s never going to hold you in his arms or hear you laugh again. Now everyone who knew you, whether they were a big part of your life or someone you passed in the hallway a few times a week, they carry this aching feeling around inside them because you’re gone, and they miss you, and they don’t know why you left but it must’ve been their fault and they should’ve stopped you and they should’ve told you they loved you more and that feeling is never going to go away. And so you killed yourself
but you killed everyone else around you too.
#SOSCuba is trending on Twitter and I figure it’s only a matter of time before it ends up here so friendly reminder that if you’re NOT Cuban and especially if you ARE American if your idea on how to “help Cuba” doesn’t begin and end with calling for the end of the US blockade on Cuba that literally every country in the world supports ending except for the United States and Isr*el which is preventing Cuba from distributing its five homemade COVID vaccines and other lifesaving medicines to its own people you have worms for brains and couldn’t give less of a shit about the Cuban people
Look, I know a good number of you are from the US and things aren't amazing there either, but my country is literally on the brink of collapse. So I'd love it if we could talk about that for a minute.
If you can't do anything else, please just read and reblog.
A second COVID wave has taken out the healthcare system. There are no more hospital beds. There's an oxygen shortage. There's a critical vaccine shortage. The Central Government has thrown its hands up and is passing the baton to the State Governments to do what they can.
There are over 16 million covid cases. A record 330,000 new cases reported yesterday - comparable to the US at its peak. 187,000 dead as of today.
There is no plan.
Mass cremations are taking place. The cremation grounds are running day and night and they are short on wood. People are watching their loved ones die while waiting for a hospital bed, and then they're unable to give them the proper burial rights.
Hospitals are overwhelmed. Patients are being confined, two to a bed. They're the lucky ones.
We are on the verge of people dying in the streets.
This is the second-most populous country in the world. The largest democracy. A country that encapsulates over 15,000 years of recorded human history and has endured everything from famine to invasion to colonisation.
We might be at the end. This might be the thing that does us in.
People are dying.
People are dying.
People are dying and there is no plan.
More good news? Variants are popping up. A double mutation strain has shown up. It is resistant to current vaccines. This will not go away. This is the devastation they warned of when the anti-maskers were out protesting the minor inconvenience of covering their face in public.
My country is on the verge of an emergency state. Our government has failed us. This is as dire a situation as it ever could be.
Look. I don't do much with my life. I write fics, some of you have read them and that's pretty much it. I spend my days with my head in the clouds because that's where I like to be.
But two days ago, my grandmother tested positive, had to be taken to hospital and the ambulance caught fire.
She barely made it to the urgent care she needs.
So, here I am, using whatever meager platform I have to cobble this request together. Because I have to do something.
If you can, donate.
Or spread the word.
Help. Please.
Warnings: talk about injuries and scars
A/N: Thinking about Frankie being shy, and possibly self-conscious of his scars.
Your finger traces along the puckered, light pink line across his cheek bone.
‘Just one more to memorize’
Frankie had a lot of scars. His limbs were littered with lines and marks. Monuments to his sacrifices, adventures, and even clumsiness. Some were new, some were from back way before you even knew him. Some had incredible stories attached to them, that made your side hurt from laughter. Some of them carried such close calls, you couldn’t deal with listening to them without feeling the floor fall from underneath you.
There was a fairly large. yet faded splotch on his knee from when his cousin accidentally knocked him off a bike. Whether or not the bike was made for a 7 year old and he was 16 was immaterial to the story. It hurt, and he ended up nearly getting gangrene from it. And he will remind you of it over and over again.
Keep reading
Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader Warnings: unabashed fluff, Din being an awkward turtle, Reader being just as awkward, the baby being his cute self (this is just further proof that I am better at writing angst or angsty fluff) Word Count: 1.6k
Summary: You know you love the Mandalorian despite never seeing his face but you don’t know if the feeling is mutual. So in order to not ruin what you have, you’ll just keep it to yourself. At least you planned to, until you went to a planet having a festival.
Being on the same ship with the Mandalorian was both a blessing and a curse. You loved everything about being on the Razor Crest, except when the water heater gave out midway through a shower, but there was one other thing that was making it hard to act like everything was okay. See despite your best efforts, it seemed like you had fallen in love with the Mandalorian and you didn’t even know when it had happened.
Was it when you saw how he treated the Child like his own son or when he looked you over for wounds when another bounty hunter got too close to taking the Child and you protected him? You weren’t sure. You just knew that you had fallen and you had idea if he felt the same way.
Keep reading
friendly reminder to support gifmakers who are still active and creating lots of content despite the horrible treatment we get from users. i don’t know if you noticed but many of us are quiting (and rightfully so), therefore if you want your favorite gifmakers to keep creating content SUPPORT THEM BY REBLOGGING. i can’t stress this enough, tumblr is not instagram, its whole purpose is to create and share. so yeah please try to support content creators if you don’t want them to leave.
frankie x female reader (slightly no use of y/n or she/her pronouns just the word sister)
warnings: angst, language, tension, alcohol mention, mention of claustrophobia and slight description of anxiety, and language
summary: you moved away from your family and boyfriend at eighteen. when you come back home for your parents 50th anniversary you weren't expecting a rekindling moment with a certain pilot.
authors note: THE ENDING IS EVERYTHING AND IM SO PROUD OF THIS FIC! PLEASE LMK WHAT YALL THINK XOXO
masterlist
They say you’ll never forget your first. First crush, kiss, date, love and heartbreak. However for you, you could never seem to get rid of him. But you weren’t complaining. Francisco Morales was more than your first for everything, he was someone who held more than one could handle- he was your rock. Well that was until the day that “you” ruined everything.
Your parents were known as the sweethearts of your hometown. Marrying right after graduation, they settled in the same town and brought up you and your sister Em. Your parents were involved in everything, your mom being a teacher and your dad being a sheriff. It was hard to blend in to say the least. But there was an ongoing loop. Everyone graduated and stayed home. Your older sister, Em, even became a part of that treacherous loop. And you hated that loop. You always dreamed of big cities, fashion, traveling the world, but mostly just getting out of town. And you had promised yourself that nothing would hold you back from pursuing that. Sadly Frankie thought he could have kept you a little bit longer. But things change- actually a lot has changed since you’ve been back home for more than a weekend stay. Now you were traveling back home for your parent’s 50th anniversary extravaganza. And nothing could help prepare you for the next few days.
Your plane had landed around one in the afternoon. Grabbing your luggage you made your way over to the area where Em said she would pick you up. Looking around you didn;t see her red car. Dialing her number you were ready to direct her to your terminal.
“Hello?” Em said on the other line. She sounded groggy and as if she wasn't in the car.
“Terminal 47 remember.” You said angrily, Knowing she forgot.
“Shit.” She said, then another voice was heard.
“Babe what time is it?” You gasped at the sound of Pope's voice.
“Hold on, you first forgot your little sister's arrival at the airport, and you have Pope in your bed Em! When did he come back? What happened to independency?” You said rather loudly into the mic.
“Shut up. You're too damn loud.”
“It’s literally tourist season, getting a cab into town will cost me tripple Em.”
“Well don’t call the Millers, they went fishing this morning. You could call-” She said even more groggily. But you hung up the phone before she could finish her sentence.
You couldn’t take your sister right now. You love her most times but she would've killed you if you did this to her. You were gonna call the Millers but if they were busy there was only one person you could call. Hearing the phone ring you were ready to hang up. But then he answered.
“Hey, what's up.”
“Quick question: when did my sister get back with Pope?” You said rather too fast.
A small laugh left him, “That’s a long story.”
“Well I have another question for you.” You said getting nervous.
“Shoot.”
“Well Em, forgot that I was flying in today to surprise my parents and well I’m kind of stranded at the airport. Is there any way you can send someone-” Suddenly you were cut off.
“What terminal are you at?”
“Terminal 47.” You said softly while releasing the breath you were holding.
“It’ll be 20 minutes.” He said.
“Thank you Frankie.” You heard a small yeah and hung up the phone. And thinking to yourself. Yay reunion time.
✰✰✰
18 minutes later, that infamous truck he insists on always keeping, though it's as old as you, rolled up to the curb in front of you. He got out of the truck and damn does he look like the same senior in high school you were swooning over. I mean he’s aged, but not badly. He’s the same Francisco.
“I owe you one.” You said as he got closer.
“No worries, I feel bad about Em and Pope doing you like that.” He said giving you a side hug and grabbing your suitcase. He quickly opened your door, still never letting you touch the door handles in his truck. You slid in and felt a wave of nerves wash over you. The last time you were alone with Frankie was years ago when you guys broke up as he dropped you off at the airport. But you remembered time has passed and everything should be decent now. Well that’s what you hope for. Frankie had finally made it into the truck. He took a breath and looked at you.
“Hey.” He said softly.
“Hi.” You said matching his level,
“So um how long are you staying?” He asked cutting to the chase.
“That's a long story. I’m not sure to be honest.” You said, Frankie nodded and began driving. Fuck the tension just grew higher.
“So um Pope and Em what happened there?” You said wanting to clear the silence.
“Well after Benny’s championship fight, there were lots of beers and then all of a sudden it was like prom all over again with them. Running away for a week and then committing to another relationship. Except this time it seems permanent.” He said constantly looking over to see you in the passenger seat like it was prom night again.
“Dear god, no wonder she didn’t update me on the fight at all. She was with him and didn't want me to find out.” You said chuckling.
Em and Pope were like your parents except they had more problems than a math textbook. They had gotten together in high school and that’s how your friend group formed. You being the younger sister of Em always having to tag along with her fr town events and football games. None of the boys minded but it was the classic my sister's boyfriend's best friend is the one for me. You became Frankie’s date for every outing, and soon you put a label on you both. But when it was your turn to leave for college Frankie and you split. Heartbroken ever since that day. Because you had to stay loyal to him when he left but he couldn’t take the fact that you wanted to leave your small town for good.
“You could get ready at my place and we could go to your parents together. That's only if you're ok with it?” He said.
“Yeah that sounds great. Thank you again Frankie.”
✰✰✰
Frankie’s house was exactly how you imagined it. Pictures and memorabilia everywhere, the smell of fresh wood and sunflowers. He had a small vegetable garden on the side of his house, and he used to always dream of having a house with a pool, so it wasn’t a surprise that you saw a good size one in the backyard.
You walked in more and saw a bunch of pictures on a wall. Glazing over them you saw some with you, and most of them were of him in the army. You walked over to the couches where there were more pictures. In a frame there was a picture of you two on your graduation day. Frankie wore your cap as you kissed his cheek. You smiled at that memory. It was the day after he came back from bootcamp, with him surprising you, both of you worried he wasn't gonna make it.
Frankie had shown you his bathroom. Where you got ready. Leaving the bathroom you walked out to see Frankie waiting for you.
“Wow you look amazing.” He said in a breathy tone.
“Thank you.” You said as you feel your cheeks heat up.
“No seriously, you look great.” He said to reassure you. You walked up and offered your hand.
“Francisco Morales, will you be a gentleman and join me tonight?”
“When have I ever said no to you?” He asked as he took your hand.
“I can think of a few times.” You laughed as you both walked to his truck.
For once in a long time you felt as if Frankie and you were good. Good as in being together again. But only fools dream like that. Right?
✰✰✰
At your parents' anniversary party everyone and anyone was there. Your parents and friends were surprised to say the least and you enjoyed every minute of it. Your group was sitting around the table enjoying drinks and memories, it felt like you never left. Frankie was sitting by your side, and every so often it looked as if he wanted to be closer to you so you took the initiative to slowly move closer. When his arm was behind you, you were finally content, and based on his smile so was he.
“Care to dance?” You asked Frankie.
“Do I have to remind you how horrible we are at dancing?” He said laughing through his response.
“You owe me one dance, remember?” You said smiling knowing Frankie can’t say no now.
Standing up he offered you his arm and you both made your way over to the dance floor.
Moving to the beat, you were both entangled in limbs, but a bright smile displayed on everyone as they watched you and Frankie become those kids who pined for each other for all those years.
“It’s sad.” Em said to the table.
“On what?” Benny asked cluelessly.
“Pendejo. He promised her that he would only dance with her one more time at their wedding. They were supposed to be the next couple to celebrate fifty years together in this town.” Santiago said, looking at his best friend and you.
Frankie and you were laughing and talking but as a slow song came on you both stayed on the dance floor. Unknowing of the conversation that was going on with your group.
“I missed you.” Frankie said.
“There's not even a way to describe the feeling of how much I missed you.” You said, placing your head on his chest. Frankies grip tightened around you, as if he was scared that he was going to lose you. Again.
“I’m sorry.” You said softly.
“No. No apologies. Just be with me. Right here in this moment. Not the past or the future.”
“Frankie?” You asked, to which he hummed to be his response.
“Promise me this won’t be our last dance?” Your voice cracked as you spoke.
“Promise me you won’t be gone as long as you have been.” He spoke softly, as almost he was about to break. You nodded, not being able to form words. A small kiss was placed on your head from him. This was the way you used to seal promises.
It wasn’t until speeches and cake till your night was ruined. Everyone gathered around where your parents were. Your parents holding a microphone and giving thanks.
“Since we were kids this town has done nothing but helped us. We found true love in this zip code and we raised our wonderful kids here. Our oldest is striving to become a wonderful teacher like her mom and our youngest has been working her heart out since she was handed a highschool diploma. We thank all of you for your support and well wishes towards us and our family.” Your dad spoke as everyone clapped to his thoughtfulness.
“Though we are here celebrating our wonderful fifty years together. We are beyond grateful to have both of our children here tonight with us.” Your Mom spoke and pointed towards you and Em. Will and Benny both hollered and squeezed us together. Small laughter erupted.
“I have been blessed with such an amazing neighborhood, life, and soulmate but I am even more blessed that our youngest was offered a position in London while our oldest will be taking my place the next school year. Thank you all again and enjoy.”
Suddenly it felt claustrophobic. Everyone turned to say congratulations to you. You were surrounded and all you needed was an escape. But everyone was hugging and asking you questions.
While your own thoughts were running wild. How did your mom know about London? You didn’t take the job. Where’s Frankie? Oh my god where’s Frankie? The one that stuck out the most was you had to clear this up with your parents and especially Frankie. Em grabbed you and dragged you away.
“London?” She screamed and questioned. You began shaking your head.
“No, no, no!” You yelled back at her. Your mom had come up to you both and intervened.
“Mijas, what's wrong?” She asked.
“Mom, how did you know about London?” You asked, growing impatient.
“You buttdialed me in one of your meetings. ‘M sorry honey if you had a whole idea to tell us and if I ruined it-”
“Mom, I didn’t take the London job. I took the position of being media manager. A job where I could live here. Be here with, ugh fuck!” You screamed the last part feeling all the emotions rush through you. Benny, Will and Santiago walked over towards you. You wanted to burst out crying knowing Frankie had left. Again.
“Where is he?” You ran up to Benny. Benny shook his head and began to speak.
“He um, he left. We don’t know where too though. Maybe the creek?”
You looked towards Pope and he had a sorry gaze towards you. No you're not taking apologies. You need to make this right.
“Give me keys.” You raised your hand outward. Pope placed his keys and you din;t even say thank you. You just ran towards the cars.
You drove past the creek, school, and finally you saw the truck in his driveway. You parked quickly and ran towards the door. Tears already welling up your eyes. When you knocked and there was no answer to the door your heart began to speed up. Pope had to have keys to his place. And luckily you found the fit. Opening the door you searched for him, but he was sitting on the couch ushering a whiskey.
“Frankie please let me explain.” You said as you rounded the corner.
“Explain what?” He said moving towards the kitchen, that's when you saw his tear stained cheek.
“Explain how you're gonna move to London, how you’re gonna be able to do what you always wanted to do. You already left once, why do it twice?”
“Frankie.”
“Do you know how much joy I have when you call or text me. Or when you even fucking show up for your weekend here once a year. Do you know how much I yearn to gain a little more from you?”
“Frankie please.”
“No, please go ahead and break me one more time.” He said.
“Frankie, I didn’t take the job.” You had lost your temper and began to lose your control over your voice.
“What?”
“Do you know how much I yearned for you to call me and tell me to come back home? Do you know how lonely I was? I cried every night for two months, every holiday, birthday. I know I could live without you but fuck Frankie I didn’t want too.” Frankie had now moved back from behind the kitchen counter to be in front of you.
“Frankie, I was scared. I was a kid and I was so in love with you. I made myself board that airplane and I regretted it the instant I buckled my seatbelt. I wanted to see the world, but the only thing I truly wanted was to see the world with you.” At this point tears were both falling freely between the two of you.
“I only came back home to make sure this is what I wanted. To make sure that I would hate London. I came back to see if I could fix my mistakes.”
“Where are you working?” Frankie had now asked.
“I took the media manager position. I can work wherever I want.” You said now quietly. Frankie nodded trying to comprehend everything. Twenty minutes ago he thought he had lost you again, but now here you were in his house, confessing to him that you were too in love with him, that you cried everyday just like he had.
“Frankie please say something.”
“You’re not leaving?” He asked another question which drove you past patience.
“Frankie I will leave right now if you don’t-” Suddenly you were embraced by his lips. Before you could withdraw your mind from its far places, his arms were around you. You felt that rush of helplessness, the sinking yielding, the surging tide of warmth that left you limp. Just like he did all those times before. He kissed you, softly at first, and then with a swift gradation of intensity that made you cling to him. His insistent mouth was parting your shaking lips, sending wild waves along your nerves, evoking from your sensations you had never known you would be capable of feeling again. And before a swimming giddiness spun you round and round, you knew that you were kissing him back.
You pull away slowly. But then you both were kissing again. It shows you that every other kiss you’ve had without Frankie has been wrong. Both of you are kissing like crazy. Like your lives depend on it. Frankie’s tongue slips inside your mouth, gentle but demanding, and it’s nothing like you've ever experienced with him before. Your fingers wrap around his hat and pull it off, and move to grip his hair, pulling him even closer. He pushes you backward and you’re up against the kitchen table. The weight of his body on top of yours is extraordinary. You feel him—all of him—pressed against you. His face has his signature stubble and it rubs your skin but you don’t care, you don’t care at all. He feels wonderful. His hands are everywhere, and it doesn’t matter that his mouth is already on top of yours, you want him closer but he pulls away.
“You promised me forever and always. Is it forever now?” He asked with a certain amount of need in his voice. You nodded quite ferociously and pulled him in to seal the deal.
“Forever and always Francisco. You will have me forever and I will always love you.”
Leaning forward he sealed the deal, and for a long time it won't be the last seal the deal kiss.
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UNDER CONSTRUCTION!!/ 14.8 billion years old. (jk I'm 25). she/her. welcome to my on fire garbage can blog! you're friendly neighborhood mom friend. I DON'T WRITE SMUT! I am absolutely horrid at that!
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