𓂃⋆.˚ tags: domestic fluff, soft!Frankie, newly parents, a (newborn) baby, ridiculous nicknames, daddy!Frankie, no mentions of birth, brief mentions of mental health and addiction, husband!Frankie, happiness
summary: In the dark hush before dawn, a sleep-deprived you and newly-dad Frankie sit with your baby girl and realize the life you once fought to earn is now something you’re choosing to keep.
𓂃⋆.˚ author's note: After all the love on part 1, I wanted to gift y'all with part 2 by writing new daddy!Frankie. I have no interest in being a mom in real life, but writing this made me weirdly emotional, so... enjoy 😅🤍Happy Frankie Friday! I would highly recommend reading "Earned" first, but it makes sense as a stand-alone too.
word count: 2,1 k
⋆ read on ao3 ⋆
The world is dark and quiet in that way it only ever is just before dawn.
No birds yet. No cars. Just the hum of the heater and the soft, broken sounds of your daughter breathing against your chest.
You’re sunk into the corner of the couch, one leg tucked under you, wrapped in the ugly but warm blanket Frankie swore he didn’t steal from Benny years ago. Your neck aches a little, your lower back protests even more, and your eyes burn from too many half-hours of sleep stacked on top of each other instead of in a row.
But your daughter is finally asleep.
You stare down at her tiny face, relaxed and slack with the kind of peace you still haven’t learned how to trust yet. Her lashes are short and dark, her nose a miniature echo of his, same as the dark curls crowning her head. Her little fist is curled stubbornly into your shirt like she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she lets go.
The baby makes a small noise, somewhere between a sigh and a whimper. Your body goes rigid for a second, every muscle on standby, ready for another round of soothing and shushing and the rhythmic bouncing your thighs are definitely going to complain about when you’re forty.
She settles again and your own shoulders drop.
The clock on the wall tells you it’s five-thirteen in the morning. Barely.
The sun isn’t up yet, but a thin suggestion of light is pressing against the curtains, turning the edges of the room into soft outlines. The house is still, held in that fragile in-between where anything too loud might break the spell. Behind you, from the hallway, the floor creaks. You don’t need to turn to know it’s him. Nobody else moves like that in this house. Careful, as if he’s always expecting the floor to give out or someone to wake up screaming.
He pauses in the doorway and you feel his gaze before he speaks.
“Could’ve woken me,” he rasps quietly, voice still thick with sleep. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”
You tip your head back against the backrest and look at him.
Frankie. Your husband now. Somewhere between the second line on the test and your belly getting too big for a proper wedding dress, you slipped into city hall and got married. The ceremony was anything but intimate, but somehow still unforgettable. With all your favorite people crammed into one room, delicious Italian afterwards, and the tiny life growing under your heart. You couldn’t regret it even if you tried. It was perfect in that unperfect way only you and Frankie could pull off.
His curls are a mess, flattened at one side from the pillow and sticking up at the other as he slowly walks over to you. The t-shirt he threw on hangs loose over the sweatpants he definitely put on inside out. There’s a faint line from the bedsheet pressed into his cheek, and his eyes are still puffy, but they’re soft when they find you, even softer when they slip down to the small bundle in your arms.
You shrug one shoulder, careful not to jostle her. “You were actually sleeping,” you whisper. “I wasn’t gonna ruin that. It’s practically a miracle.”
He huffs a quiet laugh, the sound barely more than an exhale. He crosses the room in a few long steps, then kneels down in front of you instead of sitting, so he’s level with your chest, with her.
“Hey, mi sol,” he murmurs, his voice changing in that way you never get tired of — rough edges dissolved into syrup. He reaches out, broad fingers impossibly gentle as he brushes one knuckle along the baby’s round cheek. “You giving your mama a hard time again, huh?”
Your daughter doesn’t answer, obviously. She only shifts a little, mouth opening and closing in a sleep-drunk pout. You feel it anyway. The punch in your ribcage because of the word mama. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to it. Or to the quiet awe on Frankie’s face when he says it.
“It’s okay,” you murmur, eyes darting between them. “We had a girls’ night. Just us, cluster feeds and existential dread.”
He snorts softly, but there’s a crease between his brows that doesn’t vanish. His hand stays where it is, fingers still resting lightly on your shirt, touching both of you at once.
“How long have you been up?” he asks.
You hesitate. “What time did we go to bed?”
“Around eleven.”
You make a face. “Cool. Then… since eleven-twenty?”
“Fuck,” he breathes under his breath, barely audible.
You roll your eyes, affectionate. “Language. There are children present, baby.”
His gaze flickers up to you and something like apology threads through it, warm and guilty. You know that look by now. He’s cataloguing the shadows under your eyes, the way your shoulders slump, the way your hair is half falling out of the messy bun you’ve been wearing for three days straight. He’s tallying all the ways he thinks he’s failed you tonight.
“Frankie,” you say gently. “You were exhausted. That’s not your fault.” You tighten your hold around the baby for emphasis. “We made a sleep thief.”
One side of his mouth twitches up. His other hand comes to rest on your shin under the blanket, thumb moving absent circles into your skin.
“Still,” he insists softly. “I wanna be up with you. You shouldn’t have to…” He swallows, his throat working. “You shouldn’t feel alone in this.”
You breathe in slowly, then out, letting his words settle.
Because before this calm, you remember a different kind of night. Him on the brink of relapse, shaking on your bathroom floor because the ghosts in his head were too loud, because the world felt too sharp. You remember holding his face between your hands and saying I’m not leaving, even when he begged you to find someone better. You also remember morning after morning where the only thing keeping you in your body was his voice, his hand, his steady presence while your brain screamed storm.
You glance down at the baby again. Her tiny chest rises and falls in quick, rabbit-like breaths. Frankie watches her, breath syncing unconsciously to hers, to yours.
“You’re not failing me,” you say quietly. “You’re here. That’s already everything.”
He doesn’t answer for a second. Then he rises from his knees, joints creaking a little, and eases himself down onto the couch beside you. He wedges himself into the narrow space at your side, shoulder pressed to yours, thigh solid against your leg.
“Here,” he murmurs. “Let me take her.”
Carefully, like she’s made of glass, he slides his hands under the baby, supporting her head with one palm, her back with the other. You bite your lip as the weight leaves your arms. He settles her against his chest, tugging his shirt collar down so her skin can touch his. Her tiny ear presses over his heartbeat instinctively, her mouth smushing against him. She makes a tiny protesting sound that dies as soon as his hand starts rubbing slow, soothing circles over her back.
She looks impossibly small in his hold, her whole body almost swallowed by his big hands. The same hands that used to soothe your soul and other aches too. The same hands that once carried weapons and juggled guilt now cradle the most precious thing life has ever given you both. A tiny life, breathing proof of your love for each other. A perfect mix of the two of you.
“She’s so small,” he whispers, like he’s telling you a secret. “I keep thinking she’s gonna… I don’t know. Break?”
“Babies are weirdly durable,” you murmur. “Like little potatoes. Soft but sturdy.”
He huffs, that almost-laugh again you grew to admire. “You calling our daughter a potato, mi amor?”
“An adorable potato,” you clarify. “The most gorgeous root vegetable the world’s ever seen.”
His eyes crinkle at the corners. For a moment, the tired melts away and you see the same man who once teased you about your book hoard and kissed you in the half-light of a kitchen you barely afforded yet. The same man who whispered te amo into your skin while the sun was rising and unknowingly helped create the little person now drooling contently on his chest.
He looks back down at her, thumb tracing the soft curve of her skull.
“I used to dream about this,” he says quietly. “Before I even let myself admit it out loud. Woke up so fucking—” He stops, corrects himself. “So scared I’d never get it. That I’d ruin everything first.”
Your throat tightens. “You didn’t ruin it.”
“Yeah.” His voice goes hoarse. “I know. I just… I keep waiting to wake up back in that shitty apartment, alone, hungover, with everything fucked. Like this is…” His eyes dart around the dim living room. The baby swing in the corner, the pile of tiny clothes draped over a chair, the photo frames on the wall you haven’t had time to fill yet. “Like this is someone else’s life I’m borrowing.”
You lean into him, letting your head rest against his shoulder. You’re close enough to smell his soap, the faint trace of baby lotion, the comforting familiarity of him beneath it all.
“Maybe it is borrowed,” you murmur. “From all the versions of us that didn’t make it here. The ones that gave up, or broke, or… didn’t stay.” You tilt your head so you can look at him. “But this one? This life? We fought for it. Over and over.”
He swallows. His free hand finds yours under the blanket, fingers slotting between yours, warm and a little rough.
“Feels like I don’t deserve it half the time,” he admits, voice barely there.
You squeeze his hand, firm. “Mornings like this aren’t about deserving, Frankie. They’re about choosing.” Your eyes drop to the baby again, her little hand now sprawled against his chest like she’s trying to hold him in place. “You’re here. You stayed. That’s what matters.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. The room hums around you—the heater, the fridge, the faint distant sound of a truck on the main road. The kind of ordinary background noise you used to pray for when everything was chaos.
Finally, he exhales, long and shaky, like he’s letting go of something you can’t see. “I’m gonna keep it,” he says, so softly you almost miss it.
You frown slightly, turning your head. “Keep what?”
His gaze is fixed on your daughter. There’s that look again, the one that fractures you every time. Equal parts terror and worship.
“This. You. Her.” He swallows. “I promise I won’t make you regret marrying me in this shitty courthouse, when we both know you deserved so much more than that.”
“What do you mean? The questionable stain on the floor and the smell of greasy fast food made it unforgettable,” you snicker, your hand now gently caressing your baby’s curls too, your head resting on his shoulder.
He stifles a laugh, immediately regretting it when your daughter stirs, but she only lets out a tiny huff of air, turns her head to the other side, and keeps sleeping.
“I don’t regret a single thing,” you say softly. “Was it hard? Yes. But you and her, you’re everything I need. And if you keep being this perfect dad stereotype, I might take back what I said under the contractions and actually want another baby with you.”
Frankie’s eyes light up at that like you just offered world peace. You always suspected he had a slight breeding kink, but you were not prepared for how much further it actually went when you were pregnant.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, mi amor,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the tiny head of the life you created on his chest. You sigh heavily, a yawn trailing after it.
Frankie looks at you with that same worried furrow between his brows. “You need some sleep.”
“I’m fine,” you object, but another, longer yawn betrays you.
“Go on, go to sleep. I’ve got our little troublemaker.”
“You sure?”
“Positive,” he says, using his free hand to gently pat your thigh, nudging you to stand. “I’ve got this.”
“Alright,” you agree, stretching a little, groaning when something cracks between your shoulder blades. “I pumped enough milk for ten babies, bottles are—”
“—in the fridge, one in the bottle warmer. I know,” he finishes for you, and you shake your head.
Definitely another baby.
“Sleep well, mi vida,” he says gently, and you nod, only slowly able to pull your gaze away from your whole life sitting on that sofa, Frankie already murmuring soft things into your daughter’s hair.
This, you think. This feels kept and utterly yours.
bbs i'm sorry don't respond to all your messages but know that i love all of them 💕 and love reading them. I have been busy and felt separated from fandom and I realize that my not responding is contributing to disconnect for everyone else on here. starting tonight i will post the requests for everyone to enjoy with short replies. I wish i had time for a long fic for every one but i just don have it in me i'm sorry 😔 let's have fun again on here bbs wif some short replies :)
I want frank to pound me so hard that I go mute and he asks me if I’m okay and I just have to wave my hand as a yes so he continues. Same with head like please just do it for as long as you want PLEASE
im sorry im on a daddy!frank kick rn, adding a little bit of dumbification too?
you're lying barely squeaking out sounds from how good he's pounding into you. frank is smiling down at you, watching your titties bouncing and your eyes rolling back. "are you okay, baby?" you just nod, "what are you thinking about princess?" frank goes deeper when he places a pillow underneath your hips
"are you thinking about my dick? how good it feels inside you?" you just mewl, "do you even have thoughts inside that baby brain? are you cock drunk baby?"
Frankie is older by then, but not necessarily wiser. He loves his girl(s). He’s hopelessly outnumbered in the family because for whatever reason, the universe only ever gifted him daughters and he wears it like a badge of honor. He likes to joke that it’s his destiny to be surrounded by beautiful women. It makes his wife swoon and his eldest daughter roll her eyes hard.
If his teenager takes after him in any way, it’s in the stubbornness. Mule-headed. Not easy. She retreats when things get heavy, turns inward, builds walls where words should be. Fights are regular. Her mother is the sterner parent, the one trying to rein her in, draw lines, teach consequences. Frankie, meanwhile, is the cool dad. Mostly because he remembers being reckless himself, and partly because she’s his firstborn. The tiny human who made him a father. And no matter how tall she gets or how sharp her edges become, he can’t quite shake the memory of her fitting against his chest like she was made for it.
So when she asks for a nose piercing at seventeen, he says yes.
He drives her himself, already bracing for the storm his wife is going to unleash later. But when he sees the sparkle in his daughter’s eyes afterward—the way she carries herself just a little taller, a little braver—he knows it was worth it. Confidence looks good on her. Freedom does too.
A few days later, she finds him in the garage, sleeves rolled up, working on the old truck he never quite finished because life kept happening—kids, dinners, bedtime stories, responsibilities. She wordlessly helps him, hands him tools when he needs them. They listen to Fleetwood Mac, the music filling the quiet where neither of them is ready to talk.
She doesn’t say much. But at one point, she leans into his side, wraps her arms around his, and murmurs, “Thank you, Dad.”
And Frankie’s heart nearly bursts. Because even now, even like this, his little big girl still seeks his warmth.
Oh! Okay. Here we go again. Part 2 of Berry‘s absolutely over the top answer:
When Frankie first finds out he’s going to have a son, he’s terrified.
Not because he doesn’t want him but because he remembers his own father. The distance. The pressure. The way nothing ever quite seemed good enough. He swears to himself he won’t make the same mistakes. He swears he’ll do better.
The baby is born, and he grows into a wild, curious child. Into a boy who looks so much like Frankie it’s almost unsettling. The curls. The nose. The temper. Watching him grow up feels less like parenting and more like reliving his own childhood from the other side of it.
His son is loving, bright, and reckless, especially as he gets older. Frankie tries to rein him in, not because he thinks his boy is broken, but because he knows where that recklessness can lead. He’s been there. Paid the price. He doesn’t want that road for him.
So he runs with him. Plays soccer, sometimes football. Anything to burn off the energy, to give it somewhere to go that won’t hurt him in the long run. It’s his way of saying I see you without always having the words.
But still, they drift.
One day it boils over, and his son snaps, “I’m not like you, Dad. Stop babying me.”
And something in Frankie shatters. He knows—logically—that he has to loosen his grip. That his boy needs space. But knowing that doesn’t make it hurt less. He steps back, lets his wife take the lead for a while, watches his son lean into her steadiness instead. He tells himself not to take it personally. He’s a teenager. He’s trying to figure out who he is.
One evening, Frankie finds him alone in the backyard, aimlessly kicking a ball around like he’s got too much inside him and nowhere to put it. Frankie watches from the porch for a moment, seeing himself at that age—lost, restless, aching for something he couldn’t name.
“Wanna kick around?” he asks.
His son nods.
They play, just like they used to. And somewhere between passes, Frankie talks. About his own dad. About how no matter what he did, it never felt like enough. He tells his son that he’s proud of him—of who he is, of how he’s figuring things out. That there’s nothing he could do that would change that.
It doesn’t fix everything. But that night, when they sit around the dinner table, his son doesn’t look at him like he wants to tear him apart anymore. He meets his eyes. Gives him a small nod.
And Frankie thanks whatever cosmic force put this strong, growing miracle into his life. The boy who feels like the best thing he ever made.
Summary: You were going to have fun pressing his buttons tonight...
Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+ only)
Warnings: fem reader, teasing in public, dom!frankie, bratty reader, dom sub dynamics, daddy!frankie, m and f masturbation, unprotected piv, rough sex 🦋, mild degradation, spanking, cum play 🌊, possessive frankie, no little girl dynamic, mention of collaring, no use of y/n.
AN: Co written by @beskarprincessjenny. Good things happen when we talk princess hehe 😜. Please consider donating to princess jenny's go fund me 💕
How it started:
"Mi amor, are you ready?" Frankie called from the door.
"Coming!" You adjusted your clothes, smiling to yourself. A thrill running down your spine just thinking about your plans. You bounded down the stairs to where Frankie stood with your coat.
He was freshly showered, in his usual jeans and t shirt ensemble. He was in need of a shave, his patchy beard was thicker and decorated with grey hairs. His mouth parted as he looked you up and down.
"Wow. You look nice." He smiled, scanning your sweater and skirt combo.
"Thank you, daddy." You replied innocently, squeezing his bicep through the flannel he wore. He raised his eyebrow at that.
"Careful baby girl or we might not make it out of here." He huffed through a tight smile. You shrugged while a warm cloud bloomed in your tummy under his gaze. He helped you into your puffy coat, always the gentleman.
"What's this?" He ran his finger over the thin gold chain around your neck.
"Don't you recognize it?" You turned around, holding up the tiny gold 'F' that hung from the chain. "You bought it for me, daddy. To always have you with me." You smiled as he swallowed harshly.
"Baby that's supposed to be- that wasn't on this chain." He stumbled over his words, not believing that you were really wearing a charm from your collar out in public.
"I know but I wanted to wear it. It looks pretty right?" You could not hide the pout, thinking Frankie was going to object. But he just smirked, taking the little pendant and placing it back down onto your sternum.
"I like it." He rasped. He kissed the back of your neck tenderly right where the necklace clipped in the back. Mine, the gesture seemed to say.
You were going to have fun pressing his buttons tonight...
Button 1:
You were two drinks into the night, laughing at something Santi was saying, when Frankie saw it. The neckline of your sweater slipped over your shoulder, revealing smooth skin and a familiar lacy strap.
You wouldn't, right? Not the one piece of lingerie that was saved for his eyes only. The one he explicitly asked you not to wear out. You wouldn't do that, right? Frankie felt the back of his neck heat up, though no one in this bar knew the things he did to you in that set.
He hoped you'd push your sweater back where it belongs, but you didn't. You leaned over the table to take a drink and the neckline slipped further until Frankie could see the top of the bodice peaking out. That little bit of pink lace that he knew the feel of by heart.
He huffed quietly into his beer. He needed to calm down. You could wear what you want. He didn't want to be one of those guys who controlled their partner. His eyes darted over to you as you sat back in your seat.
"Oops." You giggled, pulling your sweater up though not far up enough to cover the strap. It still lay against your exposed shoulder taunting him. You were doing it on purpose. Bad bad girl.
You're-engaged in Santi's story, shifting in your seat under Frankie's red hot gaze.
"Fish!"
"What?" Frankie blinked rapidly, looking around until he found Benny next to him in the booth.
"Let me out. I gotta take a piss." Benny pushed Frankie's shoulder playfully.
"Sorry." He grumbled standing up. His eyes flickered down to your shoulder again and you could see him grinding his teeth. Considering his next move. "Baby? you need to go?" He looked at you expectantly. Silent communication.
"Not yet." You chirped innocently. A little tiny voice of sympathy piped up when you saw him sit down and stare at the table. You hated being anything but his perfect girl.
Frankie was a patient man. It was one of the things you adored about him. You hadn't seen him get angry since you'd started dating him. Frustrated, yes. Annoyed, yes. Jealous, yes. There was always a passion burning under the surface at all times. It's not like you hadn't felt the warmth from that passion. You loved his fierce loyalty and tender heart. You had felt his stern grip, melted under his biting words. He was a natural dominant force, but always focused on your pleasure. And there was intimacy there that you cherished but you knew he was holding back. You could feel his grip loosen when he was right on the edge, hear him suck in words you were dying to hear.
Even now you could see him reasoning with himself. Trying to refocus on the conversation, ignoring you. And well... that just made you want to be even more of a brat.
Button 2:
Frankie and the boys migrated to the pool table but you felt like dancing, watching the small group of people swaying by the jukebox.
"Ooh they're playing Luis Fonsi!" You announced gleefully. You loved Fonsi, to the point you had a poster of him in your teenage bedroom. It was a playful sore spot for Frankie, who immediately rolled his eyes at this.
"He's muy sexy, no?" Santi smirked at you.
"Yeah. His voice is just so smokey." You sighed longingly, looking over to Frankie for his reaction. You saw the muscle of his jaw tick with annoyance and maybe amusement as he grumbled to himself.
"That despacito guy?" Will scoffed. "He's so corny."
"Yeah." Frankie agreed, happy to have someone on his side.
"No he's romantic and passionate." You retorted. "Come on, let's dance, Frankie!" You wrapped your arms around Frankie's waist.
"After the game." Frankie turned, stroking your cheek to placate you.
"But I want to dance to Fonsi." You whined.
"After the game." He repeated with more conviction, less sweet. He squeezed your waist and you squeaked a little at the pressure, biting your lip. Frankie ducked his head to speak directly into your ear, hiding your face from the rest of the guys. "You seem to be playing your own game, princesa. I saw what you're wearing..." He snuck a hand under your sweater to feel the barely there lace along your chest. "I think you've forgotten daddy always wins. Always." He kissed the shell of your ear lightly. "Now daddy is here to spend time with his friends and you're here to be his good girl. Can you do that?" He pulled back and looked into your eyes hopefully.
You about gave up then and there, melting from his warm tone. However it was the slight smugness in his voice that made something in you rise to the challenge. Daddy didn't always win...
"Fine I'll go by myself." You walked away, purposefully swinging your hips. You could hear Santi and Will and Benny teasing Fish.
"Oooh lover's quarrel..."
"Your girl is pissed, Fish..."
"Trouble in paradise!"
Frankie clenched his fists at his side, roiling waves breaking through the calm surface. Up until this point he wasn't sure if your teasing was all in his head. But now he was sure that you were messing with him on purpose. He was amused, ticked off, and turned on too. You were hardly ever such a brat with him but fuck was it sexy. He couldn't deny the way his cock twitched at the prospect of getting back at you.
Button 3:
On the crowded floor you started swaying your hips to the music, mouthing the words. You loved Frankie and nothing would diminish that but you did miss going out like this and letting go to the music. Hoping some attractive stranger would pick you out in the crowd. Now the person's attention you wanted most had his broad back turned towards you, leaning over the pool table.
You huffed in frustration. You were sure that would work. You were sure he would have hauled you to the door and taken you right against the car. Perhaps he was curious to see what you would do next. You danced your way to the jukebox to put on another Fonsi song when you felt a large hand wrap around your arm.
"Hey!" You whirl around but immediately relax when you see it's Frankie. "Oh hi Frankie!"
"What are you doing?" Frankie shouted over the music.
"I'm picking another Fonsi song." You smiled, reaching up and playing with the hair sticking out of Frankie's hat. "You know, Fonsi would have danced with me if he were here."
Even in the shit lighting of the bar you saw Frankie's eyes darken and his nostrils flare. He yanked you towards him until you collided with his chest and he leaned down until his lips brushed your ear.
“Be very careful what you say next, princesa.”
You were about to come up with a clever retort, despite his dark tone turning your legs into jelly, when someone tapped your shoulder.
"Hey- is this yours?" You turned to see a guy holding up your wallet. You must have dropped it.
"Oh thank you. Silly me." You laughed, taking it from him. The guy was pretty attractive, not as tall as Frankie, but a similar complexion.
"No problem. I'm always happy to be a hero to a beautiful lady." The guy winked. You felt Frankie's arms wrap around you, pulling you back into him and under his chin.
"Thanks, man. We’re good here." Frankie's voice was steel. He did little to restrain that possessive growl that bubbled in his chest. The guy had the nerve to look apologetic before booking it back to his friends. Frankie glared daggers at the guy until he was out of sight. Even when you were being a brat, you were still his brat.
"That was nice of him." You smiled up at Frankie. You saw his eyes narrow and his shoulders stiffen.
"That's it. We're going home." Frankie had enough. Pulling you by the hand, not too gently, back to the front. You skipped on your toes as you followed him, excited to see what was coming next...
You found the boys still at the pool table. Frankie grit his teeth through a lame excuse about an early morning tomorrow. He didn't even let you say goodbye, much to your chagrin, dragging you outside with your coat in his fist.
"Oh- bye I guess..." Santi shouted.
"Ten bucks says they're fucking." You heard Benny say.
The night air made you wish for your coat which was still in Frankie's grip. He didn't even look at you as you crossed the parking lot. You tried to pull your hand free but this only made him tighten his grip on you. You smiled evilly to yourself.
“What’s gotten into you tonight, huh?" Frankie stopped his fast pace when you reached the car. He turned and gripped your jaw. You swallowed, eyes widening at this version of Frankie who was far more authoritative than you had dealt with before. "You always gotta have daddy’s attention, huh? That’s not an excuse to be a brat.” His grip was so tight he was squeezing your cheeks together, making your lips purse like a fish.
“I-I just really need you daddy...” You turned on the pouting, egging him on further. You went to touch his shoulders but his other hand locked your wrists together in front of you. You saw his lips twitch up into a smug smile
“Then you should have asked like a good girl. I would have fucked you in the bathroom if you only said please. Now it’s too late. You pushed daddy over the edge.”
"I tried to be good, I really did. I couldn't help it, daddy." You whined, squirming in his grip.
"You didn't try that hard, princesa. Wearing that naughty outfit. Smiling at that man with my initials on your neck." He moved his hand from your jaw to your neck, squeezing it lightly. You gasped, squeezing your thighs together.
"I did try, daddy! You should have fucked me before we left!" You spat. Realizing what you just said you covered your mouth. But the damage was done.
"You just fucked up, baby girl." Frankie's voice dropped to a deadly whisper.
"I'm so-"
"Don't even try and take it back, naughty girl." Frankie had no idea what came over him. But this nagging annoyance and frustration mixed with his lust made his next moves come with dangerous ease. He picked you up right there in the parking lot, despite the ache in his lower back. He practically tossed you into the passenger seat. You immediately crossed your legs tight trying to relieve some pressure.
Frankie got in and started driving, silent. You could see the muscle in his jaw jumping as he thought of what to do next. You chewed your bottom lip, needy, wanting him to look at you and touch you.
For the first few minutes, you got some relief by rocking in your seat back and forth but soon it wasn't enough. You subtly shifted your skirt up until you could push your panties to the side. You were so wet. It was a miracle you hadn't soaked through to the leather seat below. You sighed quietly as you found your swollen clit.
“You’re trying to distract me but it’s not going to work." Frankie growled, looking over at you. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. "Now be good until we get home or daddy won’t touch you all night”
“I can’t help how wet I get around you, daddy. Feel…” You took one of his hands and guided it to your pussy.
"Shit, baby." Frankie muttered to himself. His fingers explored the curve of your clit then down to your needy hole. "Shit-" In one movement he pulled the car over with a screech. You barely get a second to look around before he was hauling you over the center console into his lap.
You squealed in surprise as he smacked your ass, once on each side.
"You were very naughty tonight, princess...pushing daddy's buttons. Feel how hard you make me?" He took a handful of your ass and pulled you down onto his jean-covered erection.
"Mmm!" You threw your head back in pleasure. "Are you going to fuck me here?" You rocked your hips against him.
"No." He growled. He forced your arms behind your back before he moved his seat back. He pushed you back by the sternum against the steering wheel. Your arms stuck behind you. Now you were too far away to feel the curve of his cock against you. You huffed in frustration.
The window started to fog up with your combined panting, so no one could see him undo his pants. No one could see him fist his cock in his hands while you were unable to touch.
"Please!" You squirmed, watching his hand with envy. Frankie was not moved by your pleas and he groaned as the power went to his head. You were so pliable. Even when you tried to get the upper hand you let him manhandle you. It was because you wanted it, though you may not admit it.
“Naughty girls don’t get to touch." He rasped.
You could think of no worse agony, no better torture than this. You had to watch. Watch as his neck tightened and he panted your name. Watch as he pumped his cock til the tip went purple. Watch as he shot rope after rope of cum all over your thighs and pussy.
"Fuck..." He pulled your face into his, kissing you deeply. "Now sit back down and think about what you've done." He ordered, spanking you lightly.
"I-I'll be good." You whimpered. He had broken you down. You were going to obey now. You climbed back into your seat, your hand going to wipe off his cum but he stopped you-
He chuckled, "Nuh uh, you're wearing daddy's cum as a reminder to be his good girl."
You nodded, earning a smile from him. You sat in your seat like a good girl, watching him drive like nothing had happened. When you got home, Frankie came around and opened your door. You smiled up at him hoping all was forgiven.
"I'm not done punishing you." He cupped your face gently though his words were anything but. "Face down ass up on the bed and think about what you've done." You nodded, trying to mask your excitement with remorse. Frankie found that incredibly cute and it made his spent cock start to harden again.
You scampered upstairs, doing exactly as he said. You were anticipating how he was going to fuck you. Were you finally going to feel that uninhibited dominance you longed for?
You heard him banging pots and pans, cleaning up dinner and turning on the alarm. He was making you wait for it. You wiggled your ass in the air trying to get some stimulation on your poor pussy. You could feel the tracks of his cum drying on your thighs. You wanted to taste but you didn't dare be naughty again. Not when you were so close to getting what you wanted.
You perked up when you heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.
Frankie smiled when he saw you, his cock straining in his pants. "Good girl." He cooed when he saw you in position. You were so desperate for his praise at this point you almost came at those words alone. "Have you learned your lesson?"
"Mhm. I'm sorry- please- frankie- I mean please daddy!" You moaned against the comforter. You turn your head to see him. He had taken off his flannel and was left in a tight grey t shirt that pulled around his stomach.
"What are you sorry for?" He pressured you, voice deep. You shivered.
"F-for being naughty."
He gave your ass a light smack. "What else?"
"For- for wearing the special set!"
"And?" He slapped you again, this time closer to your pussy.
"For dancing without you! Fuck!" You rocked in place.
"That's what I like to hear, princesa" He hummed in approval. He pulled your sweater over your head and tossed it into the corner of the room then made quick work of your skirt. You were left in your matching lace set. The panties were pushed off to the side and completely soiled, but it was still so pretty and delicate and light pink. His favorite.
He hummed, running his hands over the lace, watching your eyelids flutter.
"This is mine, right princesa?"
"Yes, daddy!" You replied instantly.
"This is mine, too." He cupped your pussy.
"Yes daddy!" You pressed against his hand. As soon as you did, however, he pulled away. "D-daddy?"
"You're going to stay just like this and take what I give you. If you move, daddy stops. Understand?" He said, unzipping his pants and peeling off his shirt.
"Mhm." You nodded fervently, licking your lips.
He joined you on the bed, knees planted next to yours. He slid his weeping head through your folds, groaning at how hot and ready you were. Your breath caught in your throat as he slid the very tip of his cock in and out.
"Daddy please..." You whispered, wiggling your hips.
"Ah ah-" He pulled away.
You froze.
"Good..." He groaned, pushing his length inside "girl..."
You moaned as your walls were pushed apart by his thick cock. The heavy curve molding your walls to take him. You fought the urge to thrust back or move at all. He pulled back then thrust in again. You jerked back against him and he instantly pulled out.
"I thought you were going to be a good girl now." He fisted your hair.
You just whimpered into the bedding, clenching some of the comforter between your teeth in frustration. When he was sure you were going to be still he thrust back in.
It was degrading and sinful to be fucked like this, like his personal toy. Like an inanimate sex toy there to give him pleasure. You screwed up a couple of times, jerking against him or trying to touch him. Every time he pulled out completely, leaving you empty and frustrated.
"Please daddy... please..." You were reduced to garbled pleas.
He leaned over you eventually, using his weight to keep you down how he wants you, and he picked up the pace, muttering curses and praise into your ear.
"Fuck, baby... is this what you wanted? To be fucked like a bad girl?"
"I-" You gasped "I wanted you to do-do what you wanted with me and make me- make me ta-take it."
"Yeah?" He taunted, his hips slapping against your ass, his cock rubbing against your most sensitive spot. "fuck- daddy needs that too."
You clenched your toes to keep still as your orgasm began to creep up.
Frankie continued to mutter filth into your ear. "You're doing- fuck- doing so well... letting daddy fuck you until he's had his fill. Fuck yes-Fuck I love you-" He devolved into grunts getting progressively louder with each thrust.
“I lo-” thrust “ove you-” thrust “too!” You manage to spit out.
And here's the thing about Frankie... he is dominant. He's filthy, but when he gets close like this... when he's about to cum inside of you, he gets needy.
"Look at me, baby-" He grunted, turning your chin with his face and capturing you in a messy kiss. His tongue filled up your mouth, leaving little room for yours to slide into his mouth.
You could feel his stomach expanding with his rapid breaths. Every thrust was accompanied by a push of his stomach and a grunt leaving his mouth that you eagerly swallowed. He was hardly thrusting in and out at this point. His thick arm wrapped around your waist using your weight to rock back and forth. The bed creaked with the effort.
"Frankie..." You gasped against his lips "Please can I cum?" Desperate tears stung your eyes from holding yourself back for so long. He was right there with you.
"Let go princess. Fuck-Cum for daddy." He ordered, bringing a calloused thumb to where you needed it most.
"I'm-oh!" You cried out, clenching your eyes shut.
"Yes, ah fuck yes that's it." Frankie hissed, as your walls fluttered around him. Your cum drenched his cock, smearing across his balls. His own orgasm was seconds away.
He wanted to cum inside of you, burying himself to the deepest part of you. But that's not what this was about… Instead, he pulled out, squeezing the base of his cock to stifle his cum.
"What're you..." You slurred, reaching back for him. He turned you onto your back and ripped your corset down past your tits.
"I'm not- fuck- I have to make sure you learn your lesson, baby. So you know what- fuck- what happens when you push daddy's buttons." He fisted himself above you, the tip of him hovering above your clit. His other hand played with your nipples until they were hard peaks.
"But-"
"Only good girls get my cum."
"But daddy..." You locked your legs around him, trying to pull him back to your heat.
"Daddy has to discipline you-" Frankie choked, wanting nothing more than to feel your walls milk his cum. However, that's not what you had wanted when you riled him up tonight. You wanted this; to be dominated completely.
"Fuck- gonna paint-look at me-" He grunted in broken tones. Your eyes swung up to his. Even though he was being mean, you could see the love in his gaze, the pure adoration that you let him have this kind of intimacy with you. Let him play out all his fantasies. You saw his gaze flicker down to your necklace with his initial, laying on your sweaty skin, and that lace he loved.
"Take it-" His words were cut off when his thighs trembled and he finally came with a broken cry. Your pussy was painted with his cum; your clit, your seam, your mound, your stomach.
You mewled as it hit your skin, your pussy clenching with longing. Frankie panted above you, his shoulders heaving, his dark hair curled over his forehead. He was so wide his shadow would have enveloped your form below him. He seemed to only get thicker as he came, chest pushing out. You think you might have cum right then from such a sinful sight.
He clutched your breast as the last of his spend dripped out of his cock and onto your pussy. His hips stuttered forward trying to chase that last drop of pleasure.
"Good girl... you did so-so well. Took daddy so well..." Frankie leaned over and kissed your lips and cheeks then down your neck. Each nipple. Gone was the harsh tone. His touch was light and reverential.
"Good girls get daddy's cum. You want some?" He scooped up some of the mess, smeared it on his sensitive dick, and pressed himself back inside your fluttering pussy. "Th-There you go... what do you say?" He bit his lip from the slight overstimulation.
"Th-thank you, daddy.” Your cheeks burned from the depravity of having been painted with his cum not once, but twice tonight. “Oh fuck... Frankie...that was incredible." You said with a breathy laugh.
Frankie chuckled as well, rolling over with you so he could cradle you against him. He hated to admit it, and he probably won't tell you, but the sex you had when you were being a brat felt more intimate. He was reminded how dependent you are on him for pleasure sometimes and how much you trust him. It makes his heart burst and his dick hard. He knew you only brat out because you were greedy for his attention. He can never resent you for that.
"Is that- is that what you wanted?" He asked, still catching his breath.
"Yeah. Oh fuck yeah." You giggled, kissing his jaw. "You're so sexy when you're riled up."
"Fuck...you were torturing me, baby. You know me too well."
"I think we can call it even."
"Until next time." He squeezed your ass playfully. "Have you ever thought that I may know how to rile you up?"
Could I possibly ask for a plus size reader little with either Frankie or Din, who is very upset that they can’t be picked up like other littles or something similar!
Cause very much relate to a situation like that 🥰
hi fwend. i'm sorry if i've ever made you feel excluded in fics where littles are picked up. In my littlespace you can always be picked up by daddy. It can be however you imagine but this is a cute idea so here are my little thoughts with Daddy Fwankie...
Warnings: DDLG, gn plus sized reader, angst and comfort then happy!
You were at a playdate and noticing how the other littles all got picked up by their daddies. They could fully wrap their legs around their daddies and get carried around. However you never did this. Whenever daddy Frankie would pick you up it was more like him giving you a big hug and dragging you up slightly. You heard him wince once because his back hurt and you felt so bad.
Today when Frankie came to get you, you hugged him and didn't say anything as you left. You never felt jealous with other littles until now. You wished you could be picked up like that and feel closer to your daddy.
"Did you have fun?" Frankie asks, squeezing your hand.
"yeah." You shrug. You knew if you asked for uppies that it wouldn’t be the same as the others. "I wanna go home."
"Sure. We can go home." Frankie smiled, though a little taken-aback by your reserved mood.
At home you just follow him around, holding onto his shirt as he made you a snack. You observed how big and beefy his arms were. How broad his shoulders were. He was so strong so the only reason you couldn't have proper upies must be because of you...
"Okay..." Frankie turns around "What's going on, baby? You're scaring me with how quiet you are."
You chew your lip debating what to say. You don't want to come off as ungrateful. You knew that was a big no no. You melted under his kind brown eyes.
"Daddy... why can't I have uppies?" You bit your lip. "Is there something wrong with me?"
"What? No of course not, sweet pea." He stroked your hair gently. "If you want uppies daddy can do it." He wraps his arms around you ready to do it but you step back.
"No daddy! Not like that. It's not the same." You huffed in frustration.
"Not the same as what?" Frankie asked gently.
“I want uppies like my fwends.” You try to explain. "They get lifted up so high." You felt your lip wobble and hot tears spring into your eyes. "but i can't p'cause i'm too... big." You grimaced. Frankie felt his heart break at your explanation. He wished he was bigger and strong so he could give you what you wanted.
"Listen to me, baby, you're not too big. You're just the right size. The perfect size for me to love you." He guided you over to the couch so he could pull you into his lap. "Come here."
You wrap yourself around him as best as you could, imagining it was like uppies would feel.
"Our uppies aren't like everyone elses, sweet pea, because we're not like everyone else. That doesn't mean it's not special. That it doesn't make us feel good."
“But!” You try to argue more
"Who knows best?” He interrupted.
“Daddy does.” You respond immediately. Sighing.
“That’s right. If I think you need to be picked up I will do it the way I think is the best. Sometimes I do uppies with my arms but sometimes with my words or my kisses.” He took that moment to kiss your forehead. "Whatever it is, it's perfect because it's me and you. No one else."
"Okay." You say deciding not to keep fighting.
The next week at the playdate Frankie got an idea. He talked to Daddy Din about it. When he came and picked you up he and daddy din lifted you up so you could wrap your arms around Frankie. They both held you up and you felt so happy.
"Yay!" You cheered smooching Frankie. "Thankie daddy."
"Anything for you, sweet pea." He murmured.
And you realized Daddy was right. Uppies like everyone else was great. Uppies just with you and daddy were great too. Really anything was perfect as long as it was you and him.
Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues…
Rating: E (18+ only)
Warnings: age gap (legal), dilf!frankie, praise kink, voice kink, size kink, low self esteem, discussion of addiction/ptsd/trauma/triggers, divorce drama, no use of y/n, no beta reader, DDLG🎀, unprotected piv sex, oral m and oral f, hickies galore👅, mild BDSM (cuffs⛓, choking).
Masterlist here
AN: Whatta ride... but all things come to an end🥺. i'm blown away by the support for this fic. Thank you all 💕.
Chapter Five
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Frankie had his own mental list of stuff he needed to do before you would arrive. He dunged out his closet to make room for your clothes. It was long overdue. He had a lot of things he didn’t wear anymore that needed to go. He went out and bought some more plates and silverware since his two plates and Rosie’s plastic plates would not do. He no longer looked around his home with a sense of loneliness, now he pictured all the places you could fit in. He could see you reading by the window in the living room so he bought a comfy new chair to put there. He noticed your small plant collection in your apartment and thought you’d maybe like a bigger one in the back yard so he bought a planter box.
He was reading your novel, titled Our Little Kingdom, while your candle burned. You didn't give it to him at first. While you were in the bathroom and Frankie washed your dishes, he noticed a stack of papers poking out in the trash. It was your manuscript. When you came back and saw him reading it you tried to take it back but Frankie insisted and you caved. It was good. Frankie wasn't just saying that because he loved you. He could see how great writers had influenced you and still it was uniquely your voice. The story, too, was compelling. He couldn't help but imagine you as the protagonist as she was just as sweet and clever.
You were making good progress on your list. You had put in your two weeks notice and started to applying to jobs in Miami. You enjoyed working with veterans so you hoped you could do something similar again. As two weeks went by you were disappointed you still hadn't heard back from job interviews. Packing was a little more difficult. You didn’t know what was worth taking and what was worth leaving. You knew Frankie had most everything already so it was a matter of picking your most special things. The rest you were slowing taking to Goodwill in batches.
You had completely forgotten you sent your book in to publishers until a flurry of emails came in on the same day.
Frankie woke up in the middle of the night to his phone ringing. He sat up pulling the phone towards him. It was you. Why would you be calling so late? Maybe something was wrong?
“Frankie?” You sounded congested. He heard a sniffle. Frankie furrowed his brow at that.
“Hey. Is everything all right?”
“ They-they-“ you could barely get it out “they rejected me.”
“Who?”
“All of them. All of the book agencies.” You threw yourself onto your bed, hot tears running down your face.
“Oh no! I’m so sorry, sweet pea.” Frankie didn’t know whether to be sad or angry. He thought your book was amazing. He sat up and flicked on the bedside lamp. “They’re idiots. Every one of them.”
“They’re experts, Frankie.” You felt more tears leak from your eyes. “Maybe I’m just not a good writer. Maybe-Maybe-" You hiccuped and low cry slipped from your mouth. You covered your mouth, taking in raking breaths. It was agony to admit this to him when he believed in you most. You felt like you had let him down. Frankie's heart literally ached in his chest as he listened to your quiet weeping over the phone. He waited for you to continue, feeling his own eyes grow misty.
“Don’t disappear on me, little pea. Let me hear that voice of yours.”
You were unable to speak. Scared of what may come out. You felt like your walls were closing in around you and mocking you. How did you ever think you could be a writer like all your favorite authors? You were so stupid, you thought.
“I let you down.” You said shakily.
“No no no, little pea.” Frankie said quickly. “You could never let me down. I don’t need to a book agent to tell me you’re a good writer. I know you’re writing is beautiful and perfect. Just like you.”
His praise caused another wave of tears from you.
“Daddy…” You bawled.
“I hear you, baby.” Frankie heard his own voice shake with emotion. He never hated the distance more than he did in this moment. He needed to wrap you up in his arms. “Close your eyes, sweet pea. Use that big imagination of yours. Pretend I’m there with you.”
“Imagination isn’t good enough, daddy.” You blubbered, fat tears slipping from your eyes.
“I know, baby.” Frankie’s heart was breaking. “But try for me okay?”
You clamped your eyes shut and tried to focus in on his breathing on the other end of the phone. Frankie did the same, closing his eyes.
“Good, sweet pea. Focus on daddy.” He wished he was there to comfort you, wrap you up in his arms and shield you from the cruel cruel world. “I’m next to you. I’m holding you so tight.”
“Hold me tighter!” You begged holding your pillow pet to your chest.
“Okay. I just did.” Frankie whispered closing his eyes as if it would be more real. “Feel that?”
“Yeah…” A moment went by as you steadied your breathing. Tears eventually stopped falling, drying against your cheeks. Frankie’s steady breathing anchored you.
“I loved your book. It was really really good. And fuck it, I’ll publish it myself.” Frankie couldn't help but raise his voice.
“Silly.” You sniffled.
“I’m serious, sweet pea. Who needs those stuck up assholes.”
“Hmm yeah, you’re right.” You agreed, voice softening with sleepiness. You pushed your face into your pillow. You could still smell Frankie if you really focused. "I miss you, Frankie."
"I miss you, too."
"I still haven't heard from any jobs. And- maybe I'm just not good enough and-" You felt more tears fill your eyes.
"Shhh shhh" Frankie interrupted "Listen to me. You are the best. The right thing will turn up i'm sure of it."
"But it's the only thing left on the list!"
"I know..." Frankie pulled over your copy of the list that you wrote for him. He had crossed things off as you reported to him. "Let's see if they get back to you tomorrow." Maybe he was being too hard on you, making you get a job first. He only wanted to put it on there to give you some independence over the move. He didn't want you to feel like you had nothing to do once you got here.
Frankie waited until your breathing evened out. He called your name quietly. When he got no response he assumed you fell asleep. He didn’t want to hang up. He missed you so fucking much and he felt helpless.
When he woke up the next morning, he said goodbye to Rosalia as usual, called in sick, and started driving north. Fuck the list. You were coming home with him now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Of course Frankie called you telling you he was on his way. You felt bad for making him miss work but your excitement overpowered any guilt. You set a timer for 14 hours and started packing with new energy. Your eyes were still puffy from your tears last night. But you repeated what Frankie said like a mantra. Who needs those stuck up assholes. There were tons of ways to self publish nowadays. It didn’t have to be through a publishing house.
When you ran out of things to clean up and pack, you watched out the window waiting to see Frankie’s blue pick up. You had changed into sleep shorts and a t shirt. While you had a plan to dress more sexy you ended up accidentally packing that surprise in one of the boxes earlier today. It was getting dark when Frankie finally pulled up. He looked exhausted but still… Frankie. He was wearing his favorite hat and grey t shirt. You ran down to the street to meet him. He’s pulling empty boxes from the bed of the truck when he sees you sprinting towards him.
“Sweet pea!” He smiled as you launched yourself into his arms. “Oof.” You buried you face in his shirt inhaling his scent. He rubbed your back affectionately enjoying having you back in his arms. “Aw… it’s okay. It’s okay now.” He murmured when he heard you sniffle. He oddly felt his chest swell with pride at how much you missed him. He never had to worry about how you felt about him. He peeled your head off him by stroking your head. You looked up at him with a watery smile. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”
You snickered at his dad phases. “I’m ready. Well… I still have some stuff I need to pack up. Too heavy.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” Frankie kissed you chastely. You pulled him in for more though, fisting his shirt in your hands. “Mmm no no. Work first. Play later.” Frankie pulled back. You pouted but have to agree with his logic. The faster you packed the faster you could leave.
Back in your apartment Frankie got to work taking apart your bed and dresser. You finished packing your clothes and dusting.
“Hey what’s this? It was under the bed.” Frankie walked over holding a gift bag with pink tissue paper sticking up.
“Oh…” You quickly grabbed it away. “That’s supposed to be a surprise. For Rosie.”
“You got her a present?” Frankie was touched by your thoughtfulness.
“Yeah I mean… I figured it might make her like me more.”
“She already likes you, but she can never have too many toys.” Frankie stepped further into your space. You realize at that moment how sweaty he was from moving all the furniture. It was so late at night and you were both exhausted but the sudden rush of his thicker smell made you feel wide awake. “Can I see what you got her?”
You handed the package back over, watching him gingerly move the tissue paper to the side. His eyes softened when he saw the pink unicorn pillow pet sitting in the bag. A mini version of yours.
“Am I too presumptuous making us matching? I don’t know if she likes unicorns and-" Frankie cut you off, dropping the bag and kissing you up against the wall. He wasn't even sure what part of that turned him on, just your sweetness and wanting to be a part of his family. He held your face in his hands, his grip forcing your mouth open. You felt yourself start to grow wet. You loved when he just went caveman on you. Sometimes he didn’t have the words to express how much he loved you so he reverted to touch; to deep kisses and deep thrusts. His hands trailed down your exposed legs so he could lift you up on his hips. You held onto his shoulders as he swung you around. The bed was gone, the couch was gone.
"Fuck. Hang on."
You laughed as he ran you out to the kitchen to set you down on the counter. You pawed at his pants trying to undo his belt, but Frankie was faster, unhooking your bra from under your shirt and then pulling your shirt over your head. He took your hand and placed it over his large bulge between his legs.
“Feel what you do to me…” He gritted through his teeth his chest rising and falling sharply.
“Frankie- oh my god-please let me” You pulled he belt loose. At first he stops you. “I didn’t get to last time. Please?” He bit his lip considering your plea. He really just wanted to give and give and give to you. But he had been mean last time, not letting you touch his cock. So this time he doesn’t stop you as you unbutton his pants and pull him out of his boxers. You licked your lips as his cock fell into your hand, curving up towards you.
You hopped off the counter, getting onto your knees before him. “Take off your shirt… please?” He obliged. You kissed down his belly feeling it tighten against your lips. He watched you with fire in his eyes, his mouth slightly parted. You pushed the rest of his pants and boxers down. You stroked him slowly with both hands.
“You have to tell me what you like…” You held his cock and licked a long stripe from the base to the head making him moan weakly. You repeat the motion adding a few kitten licks at the end, lapping up the stray drops of salty precum. Frankie was struggling to think let alone speak. He gripped the countertop above you, his other hand going to the back of your head.
“Just- go slow.” You followed his instructions, slowly taking his length in your mouth. “Good-good girl.” He clenched his jaw staring down at the sight. Your hot mouth felt like heaven and your innocent eyes staring up at him was just the cherry on top. You took his dick as far as you could before you choked lightly. You were by no means an expert at giving blowjobs but you were frustrated you couldn't go further. Your jaw was already aching from his girth.
“Mm don’t hurt yourself, baby.” He hissed unable to hold his hips still, he jerked a little against you making you whine. “Come back up, remember to breathe.”
You slowly pulled off his cock before going down again. Frankie’s hand on your head gently guided you so you didn’t hurt your throat. You added suction, applying pressure on the underside of his cock. You started to find what he liked based on his sounds. You still couldn’t take him all the way in your mouth, tears gathered in corner of your eyes from the effort. Your hand pumped the rest that wouldn’t fit.
“Oh fuck.” Frankie gasped his hips jerking again making his cock slide back into your mouth. You moved one of your hands to his hips looking up at him to say it was okay. “Are you-you want me to fuck your mouth, sweet pea?” You nodded eagerly. You put one of you hands on his length where he wouldn’t fit. He gathered up some of your hair in a makeshift ponytail and slowly thrust into your mouth. Like he always did, he waited for you to nod and give him the okay. When you did, he couldn’t help the growl that left his throat. Drool leaked from your mouth onto your chest as he sped up using your head more forcefully. You were sure you had soaked through your panties. It turned you on so much to see him take control, use you for his pleasure, but still his grip on you was firm and gentle. Every grunt went straight to your pussy. “Such a good girl letting me use this hole, too.” He rasped. “You’re crying around my cock.”
“Mmhm” You hummed around his dick making him groan. He was close. He was battering the back of your throat. You could recognize the furrowed brow and the tightening of his balls. You intensified your ministrations.
“Good girl, good-I’m gonna cum in your little mouth.” He pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop. “Stick out your tongue, sweet pea.” He ordered. You obeyed, watching greedily as he fisted himself harshly the tip of his cock hitting your tongue. You placed your hands on either side of his tummy, anticipating his load. His chest was flush and his eyes were fluttering shut. When he came he yanked your head up harshly as cum splashed onto your tongue. You loved this perspective, watching his face contort with pleasure. You tried to take every drop but some dripped down your chin. “Swallow.” Frankie ordered roughly still maintaining his grip on your head. You swallowed, his warm cum sliding down your throat.
“Thank you, daddy.” You smiled up at him, wiping some of the stray cum off your chin. He let go of your hair, now stroking your head then your jaw. “Did I do well?”
“So good.” He chuckled and helped you stand, his breath still ragged. You squirmed pressing your thighs together. The move not missed by Frankie. “Did sucking my cock make you wet, sweet pea?”
You nodded shyly before saying “It’s okay though. You don’t have to-it’s late and we have a long drive tomorrow.”
“You’re always looking out for me but what kind of man would I be if I left you all needy. But you have to ask for it, sweet pea.”
“I kinda just want your mouth if that’s okay?” You asked feeling too tired for a full round of sex.
“Of course.” Frankie smiled. “Your mattress is still in the bedroom.” He led you in and helped settle you on the center of the mattress. He pulled your shorts and underwear off, staring at your slick reddened pussy. "You soaked your little panties, sweet pea. Did you touch your little flower while I was gone?" Frankie asked, pulling apart your legs.
"I-I tried to. But it wasn't the same."
"How come, little pea?" His patronizing tone had your cunt clenching. He was teasing you.
"It wasn't your fingers. I needed you." You huffed, trying to push his head down onto you.
"Mmm poor thing." Frankie chuckled, the rich sound giving you goosebumps. He felt his cock start to harden again despite you just sucked the soul out of him moments ago. He slowly licked up your slit moaning at the taste of you. Your head tipped back as he he slowly inserted a finger into you. "Eyes on me." He instructed. You forced your head back down so you could make eye contact. "Play with your tits for me." You obeyed, squeezing the flesh in your hand. He returned to his task, taking your clit in between his lips, quickly escalating your climax. Your hands never stood a chance. He inserted a second finger, curling it against you. They were so thick and long it hit that spot deep inside you it made you gush.
"Oh my god. Daddy-I'm-" You teetered on the precipice your breath caught in your throat. Your entire body erupted in flames as your mouth open in a silent scream. Frankie's eyes widened as your pussy strangled his fingers before fluttering uncontrollably. Your cum dripped onto his hand, he quickly replaced his fingers with his tongue trying to catch it all.
"That's it." He felt you finally take a shaking inhale. "Breathe, sweet pea. Breathe." Exhaustion hit you hard as every muscle relaxed.
"I'm sleepy..." You slurred.
"It's okay. You can go to sleep." Frankie leaned up kissing you, smearing your slick all over your mouth. He returned to licking your pussy less aggressively though. "I got you."
You nodded before drifting off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning you dump the last of your stuff at goodwill, packed the truck, turned in your key, and hit the road. You were bouncing in your seat with excitement. You hadn’t ever traveled south of DC. The landscape was beautiful. You and Frankie took turns driving, belting Fleetwood Mac on repeat. You forced Frankie to take obligatory selfies to remember the journey at rest stops or whenever the view was worthy. Over halfway to Miami you paused at a rest stop for a quick nap. Frankie was anxious to get you home and he didn’t want to stay put for too long. He was used to long drives and quick naps, but you weren’t. He didn’t want to exhaust you because there was so much he wanted to show you when you arrived. You laid across the backseat of the truck with your head in Frankie’s lap as the sun was going down.
In the early morning Frankie finished the drive. His own excitement increased when he was back in the city. You had your head nearly sticking out of the window looking at everything. You couldn’t believe how sunny and warm it was here. Frankie turned down a residential street. “Almost there.” He said. You buzzed in your seat.
Frankie made one last turn into a driveway. You instantly got warm feelings looking at the house. It was painted seagull grey with white trim. It was wonderfully symmetrical with two windows on the first and second floor with window boxes outside the first floor window. The front yard was nicely mowed.
“Your house is so cute!” You hopped out of the car, your legs enjoying the chance to stretch. The air smelled slightly salty being so close to the beach. The sun felt wonderful on your skin. You could have laid down in the grass and just fallen asleep.
Frankie showed you around his house with your hand in his, pointing out random things of importance in his giddy state. You followed him around with bright adoring eyes. Despite looking forward to this moment for a while, you barely looked at anything except for him. You could care less about where the tile for the fireplace came from. You didn’t remember Frankie’s story about how Will messed up his back moving in Frankie’s couch in because it was hitting you over and over again that you were home with Frankie. You didn’t pay attention to the story behind Rosie’s crib because Frankie was here with you. His warm hand holding you close like you may disappear. He was here with that damn cute excited voice as he showed you around his home, soon to be your home.
“Sweet pea? Earth to sweet pea?”
“Hmmm?” You smiled apologetically. Standing in the kitchen, the sun pouring in from the window above the sink bathed Frankie in golden light making him look ethereal.
“I said- we should start moving boxes in before it gets dark.”
“You haven’t shown me everything yet.” You realized.
“What did I miss?”
“Your room…” You swung your entwined hands back and forth.
“Our room, sweet pea.”
“So I won’t be sleeping on the floor?” You laughed.
“Never.” He kissed you briefly. “I just haven’t cleaned up in there and I need to make some space for your stuff and-“
“Frankie.” You quiet his rambling with another kiss. You couldn’t stop kissing him. “Your house is immaculate. That’s the room I want to see.”
He swallowed harshly before he led you up the stairs and down the narrow hallway to his room. While showing you the garden and the other rooms he was giddy but now he seemed more flustered. When you opened the door you could see why. Your candle was sitting on his bedside table. It was the first thing you saw when you walked in.
You immediately break away from him, going to inspect his bedside table. Glimpses of Frankie that made you love him all the more. Your candle, your books, your list, his sergeant pin, and an old alarm clock.
“Was this what you’re so embarrassed about?” You asked picking up the candle. It was almost used up. He averted his gaze. The back of his neck bright red which you recognized as a sign of his nervousness. “Frankie…” You set it down and took both his hands in yours. You couldn’t even convey what it meant to you. He had missed you that much that he burned your candle.
“I have the real thing now.” He said pulling you against his chest, dragging his nose over your cheek in reverence. You hummed in contentment. “This is our room, sweet pea. Our home.” He whispered.
“Our bed.” You added moving his hands to rest on your ass, wrapping your own around his neck.
“Eager girl.” He tutted, kissing just below your ear, squeezing your ass lightly.
“I can’t help it. I’ve waited so long, Frankie.” You tilt your head up resting your forehead against his.
“You’ll never have to wait again, princesa pea. I’m here.”
“Then I want you now.” You tugged him towards the bed. Falling down onto his comforter you were hit by a puff of his scent. Laundry detergent, old spice, and that indescribable musk that was Frankie. You barely got a chance to enjoy it before Frankie is falling on top of you. You laughed as he pulled you up the bed until you’re against the pillows. He's about to rip your clothes from you but-
“Wait wait- I have a gift for you.” His eyes lit up.
“Frankie…” You smiled “You didn’t have to get me anything.” He pushed away from you, walking over to his dresser. He pulled out a small package.
“Here.” He handed it to you.
You sat up. You felt guilty you didn’t get him a gift. You slowly peeled back the tape trying to save the paper. It was wrapped so nicely.
“Come on, rip it up. It’s just paper.”
“No… I wanna save it.” You argued, pulling it open finally. You stared down at the contents in your lap. It was a book with a pink cover and loopy writing. Our Little Kingdom. “Frankie… this is- this is my book.” You felt your eyes swim with tears.
“I know.” Frankie knelt in front of you. “I read it and it was so good. I wanted to get it bound. I was serious when I said want to publish it. I want to make it happen. But if you don’t want to at least we can enjoy it how it’s meant to be enjoyed.”
You flipped through the pages smelling the fresh paper. You reached the end and noticed Frankie had slipped in something as a book mark. It was a torn half of a check. “This is…”
“The check I tore up. I use it as a bookmark so I thought you would-“
You launched yourself at Frankie, a habit you learned from him when words were just simply not enough.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When you woke up, you were surrounded by Frankie’s scent, warm sun hitting your face. Frankie wasn't there. You heard movement downstairs. You threw on the first shirt of Frankie's you could find. You practically skipped down the stairs, heart leaping when you saw Frankie in his PJ pants and nothing else sitting at the kitchen table. His body was lit up in the morning sun, he looked like a goddamn dream. He was shoveling some cereal into his mouth but he stopped when he noticed you. He still looked so sexy to you in this moment, his strong arms and big hand gripping the small spoon. His chest littered with small hickies you made. You blinked a couple of times wanting to imprint this image into your brain forever.
“What are you doing up so early?”
“The sun woke me up!”
“Shit. I would have made you some breakfast or something.”
“That’s okay.” You smiled going to stand in front of him. You kissed him, licking some of the milk from his lips. Your hands rested on his bare golden shoulders. You loved how wide they were and how solid and warm they felt.
“Mmm is this mine, sweet pea?” He tugged at the Fleetwood Mac shirt hanging down to your thighs.
“No, it’s another boys.” You teased.
“Don’t joke about that, little pea.” Frankie warned with a small swipe to your ass.
“I’m sorry, daddy.” You giggled. “I was only joking. No one else has cool shirts like you.”
“You want some cereal? I can also make eggs or pancakes or-“
“I want-” You slipped your hand over his pants. You could feel his slightly hard cock sitting below. “This.”
“You already had some last night and you still want more?” Frankie groaned his thighs spreading further around you. “I thought you’d be sore, sweet pea.”
“I am.” You admitted kissing him quickly. “but I still want you.”
“Mmm…” Frankie pulled your hand away watching you pout. “I think you need to eat something first.”
“No I don’t!”
“Come on, I’ll let you sit on your special seat.” He tapped his thigh. You debated this. You decided to do what he asked, not wanting to test your luck so early in the day. You hopped up on his lap wiggling back until his semi hard cock was pressed against your back. Your thighs sitting over his legs, your pussy peaking out from his shirt. Frankie rested his big hands on your bare thighs rubbing the skin back and forth. You closed your eyes enjoying his touch. You could feel his breath against your neck as he looked down at the sight.
“Do I look good on my special seat, daddy?” You asked looking up at him.
“Perfect, my little pea.” Frankie smiled. He pulled the cereal over and you popped a bite in your mouth. You didn’t normally like cereal but since Frankie asked…
“Okay, done. I’ve eaten.”
“Woah I hardly call that eating.” Frankie shook his head. He placed a hand on your stomach, fingers splayed out over the entire width almost. He applied a little pressure which had you squirming again. God his hands were so big and warm just above where you needed him. “I can feel little rumblings telling me you’re hungry, sweet pea.” You rock against him more intentionally making him catch his breath.
“Not for cereal.” You bit your lip.
“One more bite, sweet pea. For daddy?” He rubbed his beard into your neck which never failed to make you to laugh.
You took another spoonful of the soggy cereal before looking up at him for approval. He chuckled as you chewed quickly. You looked so cute with your cheeks full. It made cock ache.
“Good job, sweet pea.” He smirked when you swallowed it all. He lowered his hand down to cup your pussy which was already dripping. You hand flew to his thick forearm.
You melted against him as he rubs your clit slowly. Last night was hurried and desperate but now it was like he had all the time in the world. You listened to him take large inhale against your neck, smelling you.
“You look so beautiful, sweet pea. In my shirt. In our kitchen.”
“Fuck…” You moaned. His fingers felt so wonderful and thick against you. You fucking loved the sound of that. Ours.
“I’m gonna fuck you on our table.”
He lifted you up with ease, pushing your back down on the table. The sun coming through the window bathed your body in soft light. You looked divine. Frankie had your legs spread wide, tongue on that pussy before you could even blink. “Holy shit. Daddy!” Your hands clenched into fists at your side.
“Sweet pea.” Frankie pulled off, lips wetted by your slick. You blushed under his hot gaze. “Why don’t you pull my hair?”
You whimpered as he took your little fist and put it in his beautiful locks. “I want to but… the last person I was with didn’t like it.” You turned your head to the side trying to hide your embarrassment. His hair felt like silk in your hands.
“Hey-“ Frankie gently grabbed your chin and turned you to look at him. “You don’t have to hide anything from me.” He was leaning over you, invading all your senses, but of course the aspect that hit you hardest was his voice. Soft and reassuring. That rich baritone that made you fall in love in the first place. “Pull my hair, baby, I wanna know how well I treat this pussy. You won’t hurt me.”
You nodded feeling your eyes wet with tears. His affection never ceased to shock you. He kissed you, softening your worried look with each stroke of his tongue. When you were relaxed, he returned to your pussy. He was a fast learner for the times, applying the pressure you needed with his tongue while hitting that spot inside your walls with his fingers. Your hands were laced in his soft hair tugging almost unconsciously.
“Fuck-Daddy" You gasped feeling your breath. Your stomach tightened but you still felt like you weren't quite to your breaking point. "I can't- I need- I need-"
"What, sweet pea, what do you need?" Frankie paused, looking at you struggle above him. You grabbed his hand which was holding your hip and moved it to your throat. "Holy shit." Frankie's eyes widened.
"I need you to push me over-" you struggled to think of how to explain it but Frankie started applying light pressure over your throat making your cunt tighten around his fingers. The strain on your airway finally brought you to the edge. He returned to your clit and didn’t let up even as your walls clamped and gushed around his fingers. Didn’t stop as your back arched off the table, your toes curled, and your hands pulled his hair almost painfully. He let go of your throat when you tapped his wrist and your breath returned ragged and sharp, extending your orgasm. You brushed some of Frankie’s hair from his forehead and he looked up, making eye contact, as his lips suckled on your clit lightly. You didn’t say anything for a moment, feeling your body come down from that peak, basking in Frankie’s loving gaze between your legs. You felt boneless.
“I love you.” You murmured. Frankie surged up, capturing your lips in a wet kiss. He pulled back and kissed the happy tears falling from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.
“I love you, too. I’m never letting you go.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m home.” You wrapped your legs around his waist, needing to feel that promise inside you. Needing his promise filling you up.
“Are you sure you’re not too sore?”
“I’m sure.” You ran your hand through his hair, now addicted to the feeling of it.
Frankie slowly eased himself into your pussy. It was harder without lube. You winced a little once he was fully inside. Fuck he was so big.
"Am I hurting you?" Frankie felt bad and started to pull out.
"No please." You arched your back trying to hold him inside. "I'm okay. I want- I want-."
"Sweet pea..." He bit his lip as he struggled to resist thrusting into you.
"And if I can't walk- then you can carry me." You wiggled your hips. Frankie couldn't help but laugh at that not that he minded carrying you around. "Please, daddy." You asked one last time as you dug your heels into his lower back. Frankie placed his hands on your waist and started fucking into you slowly, withdrawing almost all the way out before thrusting back in again.
“I’m so proud of you… taking my cock like a good girl.” He kissed you softly, moving to kiss a train down your neck to your nipples and back up. "You're home now." You nodded in agreement. "This is our little kingdom, sweet pea.” Your shallow breaths slowly transformed into moans. You felt your muscles relax a little and signaled he could start moving faster.
Needless to say the cereal on the table shook and spilled as he fucked you. Spilled milk on your table. His cum spilled inside you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Frankie enjoyed hosting so much since Rosie’s birthday he wanted to have a Fourth of July barbecue. With your help he took the decorations to the next level. Hanging fairy lights over the patio, and renting a bouncy castle for the kids. In an act of irrational niceness, you had said it was okay if Laura came by, that way Rosalia would be there too.
Frankie was clear he had no desire to hide you. He wanted to show you off. Still, you dreaded meeting Frankie's ex. Rosalia had warmed to you quickly even preferring you to hold her. You already loved her so much. Today she wanted you to follow her everywhere and watch her play. Frankie was stuck behind the grill but he still could watch his girls playing. You were wearing a lovely red sundress which Frankie was looking forward to stripping off. It brushed your thighs in the breeze and it was perfect height for Rosalia to tug on when she wanted to be picked up.
“You’ve done a great job with the decor.” Laura appeared at Frankie’s side.
“Thanks.” Frankie smiled tightly. Her surprised tone confirmed that she always underestimated him.
“You’ve been happier lately.” Laura studied Frankie.
“I guess.” Frankie shrugged turning one of the hot dogs for something to do.
“It just has me remembering the old days. Before everything with you happened.” Frankie prickled at that last statement. Everything with you. She always put it on him totally forgetting how she also made things worse.
“Frankie?” You appeared at his other side, eyeing Laura warily and doing little to hide your dislike. You had seen from yards away how Frankie tensed up, looking down. You wouldn’t let that slide so you went over. Finally removing your glare from his ex wife you look up at him, laying a reassuring hand over his forearm. “Uh- people are getting hungry. How soon until it’s done?”
“It’s ready now.” Frankie smiled down at you, instantly feeling more at ease. His answer let you know he was okay.
“Great I’ll wrangle everyone.” You smiled before darting back to the crowd.
“Who is that?” Laura frowned. “Someone's babysitter?”
“No.” Frankie shut off the grill facing his ex wife face to face. “She’s my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” Laura sounded skeptical. “She’s 12.”
“She’s a woman.” Frankie corrected her. “A woman I love very much.” He wasn’t going to listen to anyone look down on you.
“You should have talked to me before you brought her around Rosie.” Laura huffed, putting a hand on her hip.
“You had no problem parading your boyfriends around during our divorce.” Frankie shot back quickly looking to make sure they couldn’t be heard. “It’s in the court records so I doubt you want to bring it up.”
“Frankie…” Laura seemed to regret what she said.
“Let’s just… move on.” Frankie said as people started to draw near.
“Papa!” He heard Rosie squeal, toddling towards him.
“Rosie!” He picked her up, his anger instantly melting away. “Ready for your hot dog?”
As Frankie and the others started filling up their plates Laura crept closer to you as you were cleaning up some of the kid’s mess by the pool.
“Excuse me. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Laura.” She extended her hand. She was taller than you. Her face was tight as if she was holding in her sneer.
“Hi.” You decided to be nice, shaking the woman’s hand. You introduced yourself.
“So… you and Frankie. “
“Yes.”
“How long has that been going on?”
“A few months.” You said keeping it vague.
“And it’s going well?”
“Yes.” You grew annoyed by her vague questioning. Obviously it was going well since you were here. Her eyes were the total opposite of Frankie's. Hard and cold and icy blue. You quietly thanked god that Rosalia had inherited Frankie's eyes.
“Hmm he’s not doing that crazy thing anymore?”
“What thing?” You frowned.
“Well one time while we were together he stayed up the whole night because he thought some criminal or something was after us.” Laura laughed cruelly. You wanted to slap her for her lack of sympathy. What was funny about Frankie’s fear? “The psychiatrist said there would be delusions but that was just too much.”
“I think I’ve heard enough.” You snipped, trying to keep at least a polite facade. There were people just a few feet away. You prayed the couldn’t hear.
“Hey I’m sorry.” She schooled her features. “Don’t think I’m cruel. It wasn’t easy being with someone like that. I’m trying to look out for you.”
“Thanks for that. I think I'm good though.” You finished picking up the last pool toy and walked away before Laura could say more. You wanted to turn back and say something mean but you were determined to be the bigger person. You didn’t want to start drama that would hurt Frankie and Rosalia. You spent a good minute in the garage after putting the toys back, positively fuming.
“Sweet pea?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts, joining you in the garage. “Aren’t you hungry?”
"I was just cleaning up.” You said though your hands were empty.
“I saw Laura talking to you.” He watched you warily. Fear lapped at him. What did Laura tell you...“Everything okay?”
“She just… a bitch.” You huffed. Your word choice made Frankie burst out laughing. “I’m sorry I know you married her but how? She’s awful and rude and judgmental.”
“I know.” Frankie quieted his laughter, pulling you into his chest. “It wasn’t meant to last.”
“Because she’s a bitch.” You grumbled into his chest making Frankie laugh again. His tummy bounced against yours with his laughter. You loved it. You thought again about what Laura said. How cruel she had been in the face of Frankie’s PTSD. “If she says one more rude thing I may have to smack her.”
“You’re hot when you’re possessive, you know that?” Frankie smiled tickling your sides. “Come on, we should get back before our guests start to notice.”
“Alright.” You agreed, taking his hand and following him out of the garage. You felt Laura’s eyes on you two when you came back to the yard. Frankie got your burger set up for you before doing his. It’s the simple things that got you going; how giving he is. You tried to hide your blush from the onlookers as Frankie asked you ketchup or mustard.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once everyone went home you and Frankie laid out a blanket in the back so you could watch the fireworks happening on the beach a mile away. He was quiet, at least more than he usually is. You didn’t know what to say to reassure him so again you reverted to touch. You placed your hand on his thigh reassuringly.
“Frankie?” You turned to him. “Do you want to talk about anything?”
“No.” He seemed taken aback by your question.
“Okay.” You moved closer to him until you were tucked into his side.
“You mean about Laura.” Frankie said after a moment. “Just- she didn’t say anything to you to make you upset right? She doesn’t get under my skin anymore. I don’t want her to get under yours.”
“She didn’t get under my skin.” You replied. She said nothing to make you insecure, just make you angry at her is all. “I’m just protective of you, you know. It seems like she was awful to you.”
“It’s fine.” Frankie shrugged.
“No.” You moved to sit on his lap, straddling him. “It’s not. You came back from your deployment probably in need of some comfort and all she gave you was judgment."
“She told you about that night.” Frankie hung his head in humiliation. You didn’t deny it. You didn’t want to upset him but part of you knew he should talk about this. Laura shouldn’t be the only one who holds this memory over his head. “It was my first night back. I just- I swore I heard gunfire. I was freaking out. I was probably acting really scary. I thought they came for me and she-Laura called the cops on me.”
“How could she…” You teared up on behalf of Frankie.
“I ran.” He continued, his voice thick. “I stayed a Will’s and calmed down. That was the end of the marriage.” He rubbed up and down your thighs under your dress. It always comforted him. You tried to think of what to say. His wife, the person who was supposed to love him the most, ostracized him and criminalized him.
Frankie was anticipating you to be afraid of him or push him away, but to his surprised you pulled him into a hug, holding his head against your neck like he was a child. He felt a sob rise in his throat and tears wet his eyes. You were so... kind. It was something he was still learning to accept and realize he deserved .
“You’re right.” You took a breath to relax yourself. “It doesn’t matter what she says. You’re mine now. Not hers.” You kissed Frankie on his nose then kissed his mouth.
“Always, sweet pea.” He rubbed his thumb over the area of your brow that furrowed in residual anger.
“I just wish there were some way…” you chewed your lip. “I have these-“ you pulled his dog tags out from where they hung between your breasts. “Reminds me I’m yours.”
“Maybe I need a necklace too.” Frankie smiled squeezing your thighs. That got you thinking…
“Can I try something?” You asked. Frankie nodded looking amused. You tugged at his shirt pulling it over his head. You never got over how broad he was. His toned arms were flexed holding himself up. You leaned forward planting a wet kiss on Frankie’s neck where it met his shoulder.
“Mmm gonna mark me up?”
You nodded and sucked harder till you were satisfied it would leave a mark. Pulling back you admired the red blooming where your mouth had been. It shouldn’t affect you as much as it did but you loved that he had a physical mark from you. He had scars here and there from cross fire and stab wounds. Some he wouldn’t go into detail. You loved them all but for once you wanted him to have a mark born out of love.
“I’m gonna give you a necklace, daddy.” You murmured tracing the path you would forge, down and around to the other side of his neck. You were gonna make hicks all around his neck like a chain. You leaned back down and planted another mark below and slightly to the right.
“Holy shit.” Frankie groaned, tilting his head back. He felt his cock start to harden under your attention. You slowly made your way across his hot skin until you had seven little wet hickies starting to show through the skin. You traced them with your finger, connecting the dots.
Frankie looked down, watching in fascination. His dog tags were a bittersweet thing, symbolizing his commitment to the military, but you wanted them. You wore them proudly, giving him more closure than 100 hours of therapy. But this... this new chain on his skin represented his belonging to you. “Beautiful, baby girl. Thank you.” He kissed you sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. You pulled away before he could deepen it. You start to lean down again like you were going to plant another hickie on him. He pushed you back and rolled the both of you over.
“Daddy! I wasn’t done yet.” You wiggled against the soft blanket.
“No it’s daddy’s turn now.” He pushed the straps of your dress down your arms, tugging your neckline down.
“But I already have a necklace.” You felt Frankie’s dog tags lying in your cleavage.
“Now you’ll have two. I spoil my girl like that.” Frankie teased. He kissed up and down your neck before settling on his starting place. When he started sucking it sent a lightning bolt straight to your clit. You gasped. You could feel him hard against your thigh, not fully yet. You rocked your hips impatiently, clutching his head against you.
“Be patient, baby.” He warned, pausing his work. You stilled your hips with a pout. “Good girl.” He resumed. You wanted to be naughty but you knew you’d never win that fight. Problem was you were loving his attention on your neck so much you couldn’t help but start grinding against his leg again. Your hand reached down and tried to stroke his hardening cock. Frankie pulled back, his lips swollen from giving you hickies. He was only halfway around your chest now.
“You’re being naughty…” Frankie chided, lightly slapping your hand away from him. You continued squirming under his gaze though you at least look apologetic. Frankie pulled away. “You don’t want your necklace?” Frankie pretended to be hurt.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” You turned on the puppy dog eyes. “Just- your mouth feels so good.”
“If you’re not gonna behave I’m gonna have to make you behave.” Frankie’s mouth curled into a smirk. Your stomach flipped around in excitement. “Sit back up on your knees.” He ordered. You eagerly sat up on your knees, placing your hands on your thighs. Your dress hung around your waist. Frankie stood up and started undoing his belt. You got excited thinking he was going to let you suck his cock but instead he just pulled his belt from his pants and knelt down again. “Remember just say stop if you want to stop.” Frankie reminds you.
You nodded your eyes dilating, staring at the leather in his hands.
“Hands behind your back, baby.” He instructed. You obeyed your knees widening subconsciously. He tied his belt around your wrists. It’s not tight enough to hurt but you certainly could not move your hands without really trying. Frankie licked his lips, staring down at your vulnerable position. “Good little sweet pea.” He cooed. “Now you won’t be able to be naughty. What do you say?”
“Thank you, daddy.” You whispered feeling your cheeks burn at the depravity of your position. The smooth leather of his belt rubbed against your pulse point and Frankie’s smell filled your nose. You’re out in the open. Sure there was a fence but it still heightened your arousal. You were dripping you were sure of it. He knelt before you again to finish his hickies. He held your hair pulling it back to give himself more room.
You tried to lift up your arms multiple times but got stopped by the belt. You whined as he sucked another mark into you and you couldn’t get any stimulation in this position. Frankie let you moan and whine for him but he didn’t stop his mission. He finally pulled back, his hooded eyes evaluated at his work.
“Look at it, baby.”
You looked down at the curved line of hickies running from collarbone to collarbone. “Thank you, daddy, for my necklace. I love it so much.” You looked at his chest. You were matching now. Your lust was momentarily paused as a fresh wave of adoration washed over you. It was so much deeper than sex. Frankie noticed your change in expression and kissed you softly, bringing you back to the moment.
“You sat still for me so good. Now you can ask for what you want.” He strokes your hair softly.
“I wanna-I wanna suck you cock please?”
“Are you sure?” Frankie smiled. “You don’t want my mouth on you or-"
“No.” You shook your head. The emotions swirling in you from lust to love made you hungry for one thing. “I wanna make you cum in my mouth.”
“Fuck.” He groaned before kissing you hard, licking into your mouth. He never had someone as giving and kind and protective of him as you. He could have cried but there was no need because you were his forever. No yearning just living. He reached around to pull off the belt but you stopped him with a small voice.
“Leave it on.”
“Jesus fucking christ.” Frankie stood quickly. You sat up further, your hands still restrained behind your back. Your head was tilted up at him, your dress bunched around your waist, it was the most beautiful fucking sight.
Red blue and white fireworks dazzled the sky above. He picked you up bridal style and carried you inside as quickly as he could while you giggled in delight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Things started clicking into place like you were growing along some metaphorical ladder. You were finally where you needed to be. You got a job working at the VA in Miami, running their re-entry program. A small publishing house in Miami loved your book and agreed to publish it for a short run. Frankie took some money out of the Colombia account to cover the rest of the contract. Frankie had the book for sale at the shop pushing it on anyone who would enter. He was so proud of you. And that was all that mattered to you.
Frankie unironically planted sweet pea in the garden, telling you how they are slow to grow, but their delicate flower and sweet smell is worth the wait; just like you. Sweet peas were climbers, with the right support, they would bend to any shape. You knew you could go as high as the sky with Frankie by your side.
