“I thought we were going to try for a baby.” You said hopefully.
he taps your nose before taking out his pacifier, “ You and I both know that im the only baby that’s gonna get any pampering ‘round here.” He throws the sucker back in his mouth and gives you a wet one on the cheek on his way out the door.
Can we get more of that church au with Franco? I'd think it'd be funny if she finds his dirty words amusing and so she seeks him out <3
This was such a throwback— such a throwback in fact that I didn’t remember making a church AU!
⛪️
Church was supposed to be a place of second chances, forgiveness, and sanctuary. It was a universal truth, known across the entire world whether you believed in it or not; that was its whole reputation. So that was why he sat there, utterly confounded, after his father dragged him inside and forced him onto the stool right next to the altar
the one reserved for naughty boys who couldn't control themselves, forced to face the wall and read from the Bible.
He leaned his forehead against the cool, pristine plaster, trying to keep his flushed face from exploding into a full-blown tantrum. He smacked his lips and glared at the corner, convinced it was mocking him.
“Not my fault. S’not like I asked her to get me riled up. A man has needs, after all, and who is he to not address them,” he muttered, his voice dropping to mock his father’s. He slicked back his golden tufts of hair and puffed out his chest, only to flinch at the sudden sound of giggles. Franco’s head whipped around. There, standing just a pew away, was the angel herself. She was donned in yellow, as usual, but today she wore a frilly little bow atop her head, her dress even puffier than the last time he'd seen her.
She looked like a present waiting to be unwrapped.
Her lips curved into a fond smile and her eyes low and soft. “Did you bring it today?” she asked.
“Bring wha’?”
“Your rocket. You said before that I turned it red but... I didn’t see any rocket with you then. So did you bring it today, or were you just trying to look cool?” She raised a brow, her hazy eyes instantly sharpening with suspicion. Franco choked. It was incredible. That any expression she wore could instantly make the body weak in the knees. Thank God he was already sitting down. Unable to form actual words, he just nodded.
The growing smile on her face made a tingly sensation wash over him.
“Well?” she egged him on.
“Uh,” he scratched his brow, looking away. “Not sure that’s allowed in the— in the place of the Lord.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Yes it is. The Lord doesn’t mind his children playing. If anything, I’d say he'd enjoy it.”
That does sound enjoyable. More than just for the Lord alone.
But then a pair of menacing eyes flashed in his mind—his father’s warning if he did anything remotely bad, especially in church. He turned back to face the wall.
“I can't just…” He bit his tongue, lowering his voice. “…yank down my pants and whip it out. I’ll get in trouble.” He pouted.
“Why would your toy be in your pants?”
Her voice was suddenly so close he could feel her breath against his ear.
“Cazzo!” Franco jumped forward, clinging to the wall to stabilize himself.
“I'm sorry,” she apologized, though the giggles escaping her lips made it sound completely insincere. “Did I scare you?”
“Nearly made me squash my blueberries.”
“Blueberries? You have food in your pants too?”
“Not actual food,” he muttered, his face burning. “Just my balls.”
That seemed to make her freeze. Franco watched with growing worry as she blinked, the gears in her head visibly turning. He could see the exact moment it clicked in her eyes. Suddenly, her cheeks puffed up and her hand flew over her mouth as she tried her absolute best not to let any sound escape. She failed seconds later, clutching her stomach as the giggles erupted.
“You,” she gasped, “call your privates blueberries?” The last word escaped her like a wheeze.
Was she teasing him? Was this what teasing felt like? Was it supposed to make him feel this twitchy and sweaty? He faintly remembered his father telling him something about this feeling for when he got older. Perhaps this teasing was part of him becoming a man. It had to be—otherwise, why would it feel so strangely good?
He turned away from the wall to face her again, slouching a little looser than before, though his muscles were still stiff with tension. “Y-yeah. Same for the rocket.”
“Wait,” she leaned closer, her eyes dancing. “You mean the red rocket is—”
“Is actually code for my ding-dong.”
She bit her lip, a loud snort slipping past her defenses. Angels snort. Good to know.
“Oh, wow. I can’t believe the mouth you have on you.”
She took a step closer. Franco leaned back, the stool tipped, his sweaty shoulder blades hitting the plaster. The sweet scent of daisies and cookies trapped him right where he was.
“You’re just full of nasty words, aren’t you?” she murmured. “I guess that’s why you’re in this corner. Where do you learn such things, Franco?”
Franco couldn't speak. It felt as if an apple had been shoved down his throat and gotten stuck halfway. He was a fish out of water, gasping for air.
“Will you tell me them?” she whispered. “All the dirty words you know?”
His eyes practically went cross-eyed with how close she had gotten. He nodded instantly. And there it was again. that smile capable of bringing any poor soul to their knees.
It was no confession booth, but Franco sat perched on that stool, forcing out every single nasty innuendo he had ever overheard. She looked completely enamored by them, hanging on every word as if she had never heard such things in her entire life.
It felt heavenly that an angel would listen so rapturously to a sinner's dirty mouth.
Extra pov
You were completely hypnotized. No one had ever spoken to you in such a manner, let alone right to your face. Not your mother, and certainly not your father. Neither your aunts nor your uncles. Heaven forbid anyone from the church ever speak like that!
But here he was, doing exactly that.
You hadn’t fully understood it at first. Not until you overheard mother explaining it to your father later that night in bed. Your face burned crimson the moment you realized what Franco had truly meant. As silently as you coukd, you hurried back to your room to sort out the dizzying feelings that rushed over you the more you thought about it.
He was so forward, so loose-lipped... and so incredibly cute.
He had the face of a cherub, but the lips of a little pervert. You squealed into your pillow, thrashing your legs as you replayed the scene over and over in your head, desperate for sunday to arrive.
“Newspapers are a horror show lately,” you mutter, eyes scanning the front page. “Nothing but blood, bodies, and body counts.”
The front door slams open, rattling the frame. You toss the paper onto the table as your husband storms into the living room, wearing a grin like he just won the lotto. He doesn't hesitate. He strides over, hooks his hands under your thighs, and rips you right off the couch into a crushing hug. He buries his face in your chest,
inhaling you like oxygen.
“I’m home.”
A shiver runs down your spine as his hot breath soaks through your shirt. “Welcome home,” you breath, arms wrapping around his neck, locking him against you. He shifts his grip but keeps you airborne, crowding your hips hard against his. Your legs instinctively loop round his waist. He’s holding you so tight it hurts a little. You squeeze back, matching his pressure.
“Good day at work?”
“The best,” Coyle growls into your ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive lobe as he slowly rocks into you. “You wouldn’t believe the chase I had today.” A low groan rumbles in his chest as he presses himself flat against your skirt. “All that running and hollerin’, just for it to be over in seconds.” He lets out a sharp huff. “Now I’m wired. Too much adrenaline coursin’ through, and nowhere to put it.”
He pulls back, staring down at you. His glasses gone, his eyes dark, blown out, and predatory. “Help me out, pumpkin.”
A violent spike of heat floods your veins. “Don’t worry, baby,” you mummerr, your voice dropping an octave as he marches you toward the bedroom. “I know exactly how to help.”
“You’re so sweaty,” you say, shifting his head in your lap. You tap his nose before trailing a finger up to the permanent crease between his brow. “You remind me of a pig I had when I was a kid. His name was Bacon—well, he became bacon once he got old, but he was such a sweaty little nubbler.”
Franco huffs and adjusts his position, smearing sweat against your thighs. The more he moved the more it felt like a sauna between them. “You callin' me a pig?”
“Yes.”
Franco pouts, eyes shifting to the ceiling as he mulls it over. Then he shrugs and smiles. “I’ll take it,” he says, burying his head deeper into your lap.
Leland slammed opened the door, took one look around the small empty room and tsk’d. He adjusted his belt and made his heavy stride toward the front entrance.
The moment he was out of earshot, you poked your head out of your hiding spot. "Oh yeah,
I can tell it's heavy by the way he walks," you muttered.
Beside you, your teammate poked their head out long enough to flash a look of pure disgust before ditching you entirely.
Franco was the very picture of a dapper boy. All dressed up in his little suit, with small tufts of his hair slicked back and curled, he was the definition of class in this church. a boy who truly had manners.
That was until a yellow, frilly skirt caught his eye.
She was a vision. Surely, the most beautiful girl in the world with her round, soft cheeks, gentle smile, and a body like a cherub. She is God’s finest creation. He wasn't sure why his pulse was suddenly hammering in three different places, but he knew this girl was the cause of it. She must be an angel, he thought. Only angels have the power to make a man feel so weak.
With that thought, he marched over.
The other kids parted for him, clearing a path for a boy who looked ready to devour anything in his way.
He placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. Up close, her power was staggering. Her large brown eyes were like quicksand, pulling him in and leaving him completely tongue-tied. Her rosy lips were set in a small, perfect pout, and her skin looked as flawless as a porcelain doll. Franco wasn't sure how the entire congregation hadn't fallen to their knees yet,
but he was ready to start praying to her right now.
“Hello?”
He pulled his suddenly trembling hand back and opened his mouth, but no words came out. He looked like he was choking on air. Swallowing hard, he felt a bead of sweat begin its slow journey down his spine.
“You...” he managed to croak.
The girl tilted her head, a stray lock of hair falling across her gorgeous face. Franco's tongue felt twice its normal size. She leaned in closer to hear him. “Me? What about me?”
“You,” he gulped, “you’re makin’ me pop a stiffy.”
She squinted, entirely unsure of what he was trying to say.
“Franco!” a voice boomed. A hand clamped onto his collar and hauled him backward. “What have I told you about that foul mouth in church?” his father hissed. He tried to keep his voice down but the words had already carried through the crowd. Looking up, his father saw the girl's mother pushing her way through the congregation. “I’m sorry, seems my son has forgotten his manners,” he let out a strangled laugh.
“Oh, I’m sure whatever it was wasn’t too hurtful,” the woman said, looking down at Franco with a polite smile. “Was it?”
“No, she just makes my rocket red.”
The woman’s smile instantly froze. Her eyes darted to his father. “I see,” she said coldly. She snatched up her daughter and walked away without another word.
Franco’s breathing hitched as his father’s grip on his collar tightened. He was practically dragged out of the church, his dad offering rushed goodbyes to the other men on the way out. Did he say something wrong? It was more of a compliment than anything! A girl like that could make any boy feel sweaty and dirty. Only a saint could clean a boy that filthy, and she had been standing right there!
Clasping his clammy hands together, Franco closed his eyes and prayed.
“You only went to the store, ain’t no missin’ you for long.“
“So you did.” You smile into your kiss. Coyle grumbled but gave in to your lips, kissing back harder. When you pulled apart you let out a breathy sigh. “I got you your favorite,” you whisper, “T-bone.”
You were flipped over the couch, scrunched like a small ball into his arms. His lips dove right for your ear, biting your loves and dragging his tongue along the inner shell. “Oh I missed you— I did, I did.” He confessed like a secret he’d get shame for in public, “Mmm, T-bone, mmm, baby,” he buried his face in your neck. He peppered it with kisses and marks that would stand out for the next few days. “You know how to make a man feel like he’s worth a million bucks.”
You giggle and twirl the end of his beard. “Why don’t you let me up so I can get started on it, hm?”
He took hold of your bottom lip pulling it back then let go with a loud wet pop. You dragged your tongue along the bruised skin. “That would be nice.” He sat you upright then shooed you off the couch,
A smirk tugged at your lips. It was silly. Watching a grown man degrade himself so completely, groveling on his knees, visibly hard just from licking the soles of your feet.
It tickled you.
“That tickles! Oh my god,” you laughed, shoving your free foot directly into his crotch. “You really are getting off to this!” He grunted, pressing himself harder against your bare sole. “Just try not to suck the polish off—I just got them done,” you warned dryly.
But the teasing tone cut short as a sudden, warm wetness spread between your toes.
You move your tongue to make way for her thick fingers. Her fingertips brush over your canines, slide past your molars, and plunge into the back of your throat. You choke, but her knuckle wedges between your teeth, keeping you from biting down. What It doesn’t stop is the sudden cough that stains her face with spit..
Her tongue darts out to swipe away any that might’ve landed on her lips.
You need to go to this dentist more often!
“Alright! Your teeth are all clean and healthy!”
She rewards you with a sloppy kiss, all tongue and teeth— slurping your tongue past her lips like she’s sucking on a lolli then
“Like exploring the world. Maybe even adopt a dog,” you suggest.
“Now you're talking nonsense.”
“Maybe. Maybe being cooped up in this house has made all my sense, nonsense.” You lean into the cushions, sighing as you arch your chest and cross your legs.
A pair of blues take in every dip as you get comfortable. A crooked smile displayed under his crooked nose. “Enough about nonsense,” his voice tried to coo but was engulfed with the thick smoke. “I say we get a kickback n’,” he snuggled up to you, eyes glued to your chest, “enjoy a show or sum’.” He suggested before rolling his eyes back up.
“A show?”
“Yeah, a show! Look,” he hovered the remote above you. “I’ll even let you pick this time.”
His cheeky smile told you he was being generous. More so than normal. You smiled and took the remote not wanting to wait around. “Oh Franco, we are going to watch the most perfect, most romantic sh—“
“Just pick one already.” He said, muffled in between your boobs.
You hummed and landed on a rerun of cheesy romcon you saw the other week. You shiver as you feel his warm tongue trailing up your ribs to your navel. Stopping every so often to give each of the twins their share of affection. You rub your legs together, biting your lip as the show's main character finds his wife doing the dishes.
‘We’ll look at you,’ the man smirked, coming up behind her and wrapping his burly arms around her waist. She giggled as she felt his pelvis slam into her. Not a subtle show one bit.
You felt a pair of rough fingers ease their way down your crotch. Lowering your skirt, sliding into your panties, getting them all wet and ready before brushing against your clit. You buck as you feel his fingers pinching it, rolling it between his middle and index finger. You wrap one of your legs around him as he climbs on top of you, pushing his body against yours like he wants to melt into your skin.
He takes the plunge.
Shoving his fingers in with no effort but it sets your clit ablaze. You can feel him poking around, looking for something while his well trimmed nails lightly scratch along your walls.
You cried as he took hold of your nipples between his teeth. Nibbling down as he let out hearty laughs.
You hate his laugh but you hate it even more when he takes pleasure in torturing you. It was addicting to hear. It made your lips throb around his digits. He went faster, feeling your pent up energy. You felt him smile into your chest while he sucked and kissed your throat, leaving your chest to rub against his.
When had he taken off his shirt? You weren’t sure but luckily it was enough friction to last until you heard the glorious sound of a zipper going down.
“You goin’ to fuck me, bambi?” You slurred , already high on erotica.
“Yeah,” he drawled. “I’m gonna fuck whatever’s left in dumb little head of yours, baby.” Smacks a wet one right on your eyelid.
Then he threw your legs over your head and aligned his cock, tip rubbing against your entrance, sliding all the way up to your clit to give it a little kiss. He chuckles as he reels back—
Knock knock
Everything went still besides the TV show.
Knock knock
“Oh my god,” he whispered, nails digging into your thighs.
“Aye Bambino!” A rugged voice called through the door. One of his papa’s lackies. “ You're wanted in the bay area. Boss’s demands. Don’t make us come by to tell you twice.”
You could see the small vein about the burst from his large forehead. He dropped his head into your chest, sighing deeply before rubbing your arms. “Gotta go. Boss’s orders.”
You nod your head.
He kissed your chest before kissing your lips.
“Come back soon,” you whispered. “We still have to get through the first season.”
There has been a lot of wild things you’ve seen in this new town but none can compare to this sunny day..
“I’ve decided that out of the two of yew,” he said, his gaze drifting between you both before locking onto you. “Imma marry you.”
You batted your lashes, completely confused.
“She don’t want nothin’ to do with yew, Coyle,” your friend spat, slapping his hand away. “All you’ll do is treat her like the dirt under your hole-filled boots, and that ain’t no way to treat a girl!”
Coyle scoffed. Without another word he lunged, twisting his fingers into her pigtails and yanking her clean off the concrete steps. “Well, I sure as shit ain’t choosing you, Anne.” He squeezed her cheeks hard enough to make her lips fish-mouth. “No man wants a pig who squeals too much.”
“Let go!”
“Make me!”
“Wait a minute!” You yell, “ That ain’t no way to treat a girl!” You grabbed his wrist, trying to pry his fingers loose. “Gentlemen are supposed to be kind and caring—”
“Ain’t no reason to be a gentleman to a hog!” he shouted into Anne's ear, laughing as she winced then threw a wink your way. “But a pretty thang like you won’t ever get this type of treatment.”
“Your ma’s a hog,” Anne muttered under her breath.
Coyle’s jaw clenched and wrenched her hair back further.
“Please stop! You're going to rip her braids out of her skull!” you pleaded.
Realizing he wasn't going to listen, you grabbed a handful of his white tee and yanked with all your might. The cotton strained but didn't tear; instead, the sudden force broke his grip on Anne, sending him tumbling backward and landing on top of you. You weren’t sure if it was the weight forcing the air out of your lungs or being so close to another body before.
“Well,” Coyle said, flipping himself over. “That sounds like a loud and clear answer tah me.” He smirked.
Definitely the weight.
A hot blush crept up your face as his hands started to snake down to yours. trailing along your forearms. His chipped nails dug into your skin, leaving faint red lines in their wake.
Next thing you knew, he was flung off you. Anne scrambled into view, her hair looking like a chicken had given her a serious run for her money. She quickly hauled you to your feet, grabbing your wrist and dragging you down the road, putting as much distance between you and Coyle as possible.
You hadn't expected the boys in this town to be so forward.
Glancing back over your shoulder, you saw Coyle dusting off his army pants. He watched you disappear down the street with a wide grin, looking entirely too pleased with himself—like he’d actually accomplished something.
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