#also i love frankie please

[l-in-the-light]

About pirates and their treasure (a theory)

You know what they say, right? X marks the treasure. Luffy has a huge X on his chest, where his heart is. Buggy has big crossbones painted all over his forehead. Chopper's hat bears the X mark. Strawhats used to have an X mark on their hands in their famous farewell scene with Vivi.

There are many really ridiculous theories trying to connect the X on Chopper's hat to the main treasure of One Piece, claiming it points towards Long Ring Long Land because the dots surrounding the X (post-timeskip) remind them of that island's shape. Don't worry, this won't be one of those theories. In fact, we're going completely different direction here, and by the end of this post you might instead start to vomit rainbows of happiness. Don't blame me if that happens :D

Let's start off with this mysterious occurance. Both Chopper and Franky mistake the symbol for danger with that of a pirate flag. What's up with that? Do those two scenes have anything in common?

Let's take a look at Hiluluk trying to explain the meaning of skull and crossbones. "This shows there's nothing a man can't do", "it makes man fight like a pirate", "it's the symbol of man's faith", "thanks to it the man rejects impossibilities". To understand this, let's take a closer look at history of Chopper's hat that bears an X, because it's for sure connected to this idea.

Chopper got that hat as his first ever gift, from his first ever friend, as his very first peace offering. Triple first meaning. And he got it from his most favourite person in the world. That's why it's his treasure from now on. Both Chopper and Hiluluk have matching hats from now on.

Hiluluk has his "treasure" symbol on his medical suitcase, because it's thanks to the specimens he keeps there that he can cure people (later it's the same for Chopper and his medicine bag, also bearing an X). Being a doctor and curing people is his treasure. Kureha is wearing a shirt with a cherry blossom image on it, just like on Hiluluk's flag. The symbol on the shirt is close to her heart. That's because Hiluluk was her treasure. That's why she picked his dream and took care of Chopper. Soon Chopper becomes her treasure as well.

Kureha and Hiluluk bantered with each other all the time, but they also knew each other for ages. Hiluluk knew that Kureha isn't overly emotional, but that he can count on her. After all she always helped him without taking any money for it. Her actions are honest, unlike her words. who does it remind me of? Do you catch the drift?

Pirates love their treasures. But pirates are just people, and actually for most people their biggest treasure can be something like a memento, autograph or other object holding emotional value, but if we put it in the context of One Piece we have for example Chopper's hat. Obviously it's his treasure, but not because it's a hat, but because it's a gift from Hiluluk. They both wore hats from then on and it symbolically connected them together. That connection is what is Chopper's actual biggest treasure. The reminder of love and acceptance he received from the most important person to him.

Okay, let's switch to someone else:

Did you know Nami and Nojiko wear matching bracelets? Those bracelets are cheap and worthless, the only value they carry is that they connect the two girls, no matter where they are. That's why those bracelets are their treasures, because they mark each other and serve the purpose of a symbolical connection between them.

Remember Vegapunk's broadcast when Nojiko declared she's not gonna listen to it anymore and instead went back to her tangerine groves? That's because she understood, in case the world is truly going to end, the least she can do is to take care of Bellemere's tangerines, because that's also a treasure for both her and Nami. And she for sure wants to keep those tangerines in top shape for her sister. All she can do to help her is just to do her best and have faith.

Next stop is Brook and Laboon. This theory explains why Brook's afro is so important to him. It's his treasure, because it reminds Laboon of a whale/himself. Rumbar Pirates even mentioned that Brook's afro looks just like Laboon. That's literally what connects them together, again, no matter how far apart they are from each other. Brook safekeeping the music dial in his head is also quite symbolic, since it will be a present for Laboon, for keeping his promise. Brook's treasure is his afro, but his biggest treasure is Laboon; that afro serves only as a reminder of their connection.

The talk about treasure always reminds me of Shanks and his strawhat. He claimed it was his biggest treasure when he handed it to Luffy, but later on Buggy is so perplexed: if it's Shanks's biggest treasure why would he just discard it like that, right? But Buggy is actually wrong. That hat means a lot to Shanks and is his treasure, but he has even more important ones. And in his case, it means the person he gave his hat to is his treasure, bigger treasure than the hat itself. And the funniest thing of all is, Luffy isn't even his biggest treasure. There's a person Shanks treasures even more.

In the first flashback of Buggy and Shanks we see the red-hair jumping in the water to save Buggy, uncaring what happens to his strawhat, not even stopping for a moment to remove it, it just flies somewhere to the side. That's Oda's hint: for Shanks, Buggy is his biggest treasure. Other treasures be damned.

And what's the most ironic here is that this is mutual. Buggy was ready to give up on his dream for Shanks. Despite being so disappointed in him, later on Buggy still said things like "I'm not gonna tell you anything about Shanks, not even as a send-off to afterlife", he's still defending him. It's ironic because neither of them is aware how important they actually are for each other.

This paragraph will enter speculation territory. My suspcion is that Shanks earned his scar against Blackbeard because the other surprised him by mentioning Buggy. He probably thought he's the son of Rocks D. Xebec. Blackbeard's ship is called "Xebec" and I bet there is a connection here. Shanks probably did the same thing Buggy did - refused to say anything not to sell off any information about Buggy. Those two might have seperated ways because of a misunderstanding, but they remain each other's treasures and defend each other to this day. Despite Buggy's promise/threat that they will be enemies the next time they meet, they both avoided each other. They finally met at Marineford and they were not enemies back then either.

And then I realized, it's just like in real life. Pirates or not, people's biggest treasures happen to be usually other people. That's why so many characters have specific X marks on them. Like Luffy or Buggy, but not only that. Scars, tattoos, they can also serve for symbolically marking a treasure. And just like in real life, one person can have many treasures, but only that One Special Person in their life.

For Shanks, he has this scar on his eye, while Buggy has crossbones on his face. X marks the treasure, their marks are kinda matching. Their jolly rogers also emphasize the marks around the eyes.

Now let's take a look at Whitebeard and Ace. Both got defeated by blow to their hearts. Whitebeard's treasure wasn't money or fame, it was finding a family. It was the same for Ace. They have the matching family symbol on their back: jolly roger of the Whitebeard Pirates (we're never shown any other crew having those tattoos on their backs, or at least I don't think I saw it, but please correct me if I'm wrong). The last words Ace said: "Thank you for loving me" weren't meant only for Luffy, but also for Whitebeard and his fellow crewmates. They were all Ace's treasures. But he also had just one Special Person and it wasn't Luffy.

In the very first introduction scene of Ace we see his back with the tattoo and the tavern people presume Ace is dead which feels like a very symbolic scene. Last scene we see of Whitebeard is his mantle falling revealing his back tattoo, identical to Ace. That's the mark of their treasures and it's on the same place on their body! Sure, Whitebeard has his other children, and Ace also has Luffy and a tattoo in memory of Sabo, but all of this exposition actually shows us something important: this means their biggest treasure is actually each other. Whitebeard loved Ace the most (that's why he said he's just a man with one heart doting for one lad of the young generation and he meant Ace then) and Ace finally found the ultimate answer he was searching for in Whitebeard's love for him.

Isn't it oh so curious that Law and Luffy share a mark in exactly same spot? They're matching. Luffy has a scar over his chest, marking his heart. Law has a a heart tattoo on his chest, in the middle of which there is a smiling face. Luffy rescues Law literally sitting on a Heart Throne. This is so straightforward it freaking hurts.

Of course Luffy has his crewmates and friends, they're his treasure. But after losing Ace Luffy earned himself a scar. It marked him. It shows us that from this moment on Luffy gained his most favourite person in the world, the Special Person. Who would that be? It would have to be someone who chose him over everything else, right? Because Luffy has serious abandonment issues. And what did Law do for him? He risked his life to get Luffy's ass out of the danger in Marineford, healed him and quietly sat there waiting for him to recover. So far significant people in Luffy's life always leave him (sometimes even his own crewmates, as sad as that is, and he needs to chase after them. Damn, even Ace finally left on his own, didn't he?), but this time this guy just appeared out of nowhere, he didn't even know Luffy well, but he was there in Luffy's lowest moment, and saved his life unconsciously fullfilling Ace's will ("live, Luffy!"). And that guy didn't even wait to hear thanks for that, leaving Luffy to do whatever he wants with the life he just saved. Like, how can we not think that Luffy would be all crazy about that person, knowing what we already know about Luffy?

As for Law... Law's novel puts it very nicely. His biggest regret and worst nightmare fuel is that he couldn't save anyone in Flevance. Not even one person. He helped quite a few people from then on. But many years later he managed to actually save Luffy's life, against all odds.

The life of that rascal who also defended prejudiced fishman in Sabaody, indirectly defending Law at the same time ("don't come closer, you will spread diseases!", that sure reminded him of Amber Lead Syndrome trauma or maybe even triggered him), just like Law's other favourite person did before, Cora-san.

I don't think it's a stretch that for Law rescuing Luffy was a big deal if not The Biggest Deal, exactly because Luffy survived. Just by that fact alone he became his biggest treasure. After all, in that situation, Law was literally the only person in the world who was able to save him.

Another potential "treasure" pair. After timeskip their eyes are marked - by a swirling eyebrow and a literal scar. We know that Kuina was the most important person for Zoro, she was his rival. Now that place is reserved for Sanji, he's Zoro's rival, and Zoro never misses opportunity to pick up a fight with him. And how are things from Sanji's POV? Perhaps all you lovely ZoSan shippers can tell me why Zoro would be marked as Sanji's biggest treasure. I know he must be the one, after all Sanji asks Zoro and not anyone else to eliminate him in case he loses control of himself thanks to Germa's suit. Sanji would never say it to just anyone but only to someone special, that much I'm sure of.

Another possible pair. They have scars/tattoo running all over their face, one diagonally, the other vertically. It's probably not a coincidence. Considering both have the same goal of creating their very own armies, there is probably a story waiting here to be told. I doubt it's a happy story though, my bet is that their ways got seperated. They're kinda like Shanks and Buggy, constantly missing each other, at least that's my bet. I don't think this means automatically that Crocodile is one of Luffy's parents, sorry.

Caribou and Coribou, they're also marked as each other's treasures. We learn from the cover story that their grandma told them to get along and not fight, because they're brothers and should support one another. Indeed that's exactly what they're doing as adults. They are each other's most important people.

Other possible treasure/special persons matchups: Franky and Franky's Family, Franky and Iceburg, Usopp and Yasopp and Usopp and Kaya, Page 1 and Ulti, Kid and Killer (maybe Killer will even earn a matching scar to Kid now after he took the blow for him against Shanks, who knows). And possibly countless others.

Mr 3 and Bon Clay? Why not! But that's not why I chose this image. "Jolly Roger is not something to laugh at or shot at". Replace "jolly roger" with "treasure" and we get this: "You don't laugh at other people's treasure". And since we know now that the treasure is love, we get finally: you don't laugh at other people's love.

For jolly roger/treasure/love one is willing to "fight like a pirate" which means "risking your life". It's a symbol of faith and a promise of life. All of that applies when thinking about "love" as well, you fight for your loved ones (all the freaking time in One Piece), you show unbreakable faith in them (also all the time, especially Luffy's crew for him but he always returns the favour as well), and it's a promise of life because what's the point if you die and leave your loved one all alone?

Other possible indications that X marks the treasure on the jolly rogers. Bonney's favourite dish is pizza, Apoo's most favourite thing in the world is his music.

If Shanks is right that scars don't make a man and there's always a lesson behind the scar that you need to learn, then that lesson in this context would be: to realize who is the dearest person to you and how much you're willing to risk for them. Only then you "earn" your treasure, because if you have love but can't treasure it, what good is it for?

Live action actually plays with this motif one more time when small Luffy declares proudly he ate the devil fruit because it was an important treasure to Shanks, and now Luffy has to be that treasure for him instead. Sneaky child!

Every pirate treats their treasure differently, right? Some tuck it away so others can't find it (Law tucked Heart Pirates at Zou to keep them safe... to keep his treasure safe), some just reach their hands for the grab and always keep their treasures close to them (Luffy - any time he finds a good person he just forces them to become his crewmate), and some just resign from reaching for it at all, thinking they're unworthy or because they don't think that treasure belongs to them (that's Buggy in a nutshell). Other people just let it go, like Shanks.

How does it all relate to One Piece's titular treasure? Well, if it was treasure left by Joyboy, then I assume it was very personal, something or someone he loved the most. The same way with Roger's treasure btw. That one? Most likely snatched by Whitebeard for himself heh. Yes, I think it's likely it was Ace. But it could also be Roger's whole crew, Rayleigh included. "My treasure? You need to search the whole world to find it", because indeed, those people are scattered all over the seas. "I left it all there" part still remains a mystery though.

Post dedicated to @tae-rambles because she claimed I interested her in the art of fishing. This theory is your fishing rod. All of you, please go fish! I want to see what treasures you can find!

This is the theory I used as basis for my Lawlu series of analysis posts. This is why I'm convinced Luffy and Law are Special for each other. You think this is going too far and there's no way Oda did a code like that in his pirate manga? But he always says, even in the SBS, that love is an important part of his story. "Love" was the answer to a question of how exactly Sanji's legs can ignite! Why do you think Sanji is constantly repeating "love is a hurricane" otherwise? Love is everywhere in One Piece <3

[imjustavenuxwithaboomerang]

monster high (live action) + text posts (pt 4)

(1 2 3 5)

[tequiilasunriise]

‘Frankie tries to ask out Cleo to Monster Ball, continuously fails or smth in some way throughout the episode because confessing and talking about romantic feelings is so complicated and scary and new, eventually they get some real good advice from a character (I really wanna say Deuce), and they end up working up their courage and confessing to Cleo on stage in the form of a really passionate rocker love song during Monster Ball’ truthers where you a t???

[honeymoos]

all four of my 'custom' monster high dolls

[ringdabel]

“Oh you watch One Piece? Who are your crushes!? Let me guess…Luffy, Zoro, Law, Sanji, Mihawk, Shanks, Ace, Smoker, Usopp, Sabo, Kid, Corazon, at least one of them is on your crush list right?”

Me : yeah ur right! (All of them are)

Also me : *hiding some character crushes that-people-might-be-concerned-that-I’m-crushing-on behind my back because it happened before*

[rebelontherocks]

i'm having lawrence of arabia thoughts now, but that movie is so good, and I mean it is 100% a product of its time (the egregious brown face speaks for itself), but there was a sensibility towards lawrence's orientalism that was so cutting and smart! They were so careful at making it obvious that Ali loved Lawrence because he was Lawrence, a man he respected and was attracted to, but Lawrence loved Ali because he saw him as the epitome of the ideal "arab man". He exotizes him constantly, and yet Ali always saw the humanity in Lawrence while Lawrence saw a racialized ideal in him. It's a very subtle and keen depiction of a relationship doomed by cultural and racial fetishism. The ending scene where Lawrence looks back at the bedouin men wearing all black looking for Ali is so telling, he's looking for him in every arab man, because he's in love with a concept not a person.

[newtafterdark]

I wanted to post that yesterday, but forgor-

I can now officially say that I have set through all of the Michael Bay Transformers movies (with my friend Syber).

First movie? Can recommend. You can smell the time it was made in on it, but you will be entertained. Second movie? Passable & still watchable.

And now I am going to hold you gently by the shoulders and tell you that that's exactly where you will stop, okay? That is for your own good and health.

The worst one of the remaining three? Age of Extinction.

Folks, I have seen many bad movies. I have sat through below 10% rating movies on Rotten Tomatoes. I have watched the TGWTG anniversary movies multiple times in my life.

This was worse. So much worse. This was exhausting. "Age of Extinction" feels like a hike that does not end. You and your friends keep asking "How far down the path are we?" and you realize you've only walked a few feet in the last 30 minutes.

But I have prevailed. Syber and I both have made it.

And as a treat we watched the Bumblebee movie and MAN is that movie great! Far better than the first Bay movie too in my honest opinion. It is what a modern Transformers movie should always have been & I am glad it exists. :>

[thetisming]

i think not being Frankie has ruined my life

[hauntingblue]

"The fight for sanji's masculinity" in a world where being gay is normal and hetero is the exception

[beautyofthend]

S01E01 | ‘The Auditions’

[belladonnaprice]

.

[marblemartian]

on a completely different side of the country rn in a hotel w/out our dogs, and its so weird to hear people outside our room without 2 little dogs screaming at them. there should ALWAYS be barking when there are people existing outside the confines of my territory!!!

[danidoesathing]

For the ask meme! 🗣️👻

🗣️Talk about your favourite WIP

OK ive got this one wip thats a post VN fic is this loose character study on Buck and how he's trying to cope with like. existing after all thats happened. He's a very interesting character to me with all thats implied about him in the movie, and given that he's still alive at the end, both a surprise to the audience and him, it'd be interesting seeing what happened to him after all that, it'd be fun to explore him more in the context of trying to be a person again. it's got an emphasis on his complex relationship with death and the supernatural because that was a SUPER interesting part of the movie/his character. the whole thing is not really happy or negative or anything like that, its a weird in-between state where things just kinda. are. I like really that tone and style of it so far so im kinda proud of it.

👻Is there a scene that you find intimidating that you have yet to write?

yeah in the fic I just mentioned theres various scenes between Buck and the ghosts he met during the movie (Frankie and Johnnie). and Frankie is a really really cool and mysterious character but that makes her very hard to write and im constantly worried shes out of character (plus with how much of a pathetic weirdo Buck is the tone is hard to balance). the scene I need to write is very good in my head but getting that on paper is. hard.

[wandaslittlepsycho]

Precious

pairing: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢!𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 ༝༝ 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

summary: your bunny slips through the crack of your front door and you run after her in hopes of catching the pet again. You get lost but your time still ticks, nightfall inching closer and closer as you inevitably sink further into the woods. Luckily, your eyes spot a cabin, and you become acquaintances with the unusual redhead that resides there.

warnings: dubcon, filthy smutty smut smut, HEAVYYYY dacryphilia, groping, dry humping, praise kink, thigh riding (r receiving), mid writing, wanda is lowkey a sadist, slightly unhinged crazy yet loveable and sexy cabin wanda, age gap > r is 20 w is 32

A/N: first fic!!! hi… im very new to writing fics so please be nice ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝<꒱ྀིა (i wrote this listening to a true crime documentary idk)

kind of a messy plot but I still hope my little freaks enjoy…… and I’m also sorry this took longer than expected I just kept contemplating if it was good or absolute shit </3

+

this is a dark fic. 18+. wlw. men & minors dni!

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

It’s getting pretty late…

You think to yourself, hugging your shoulders as you look up at the overcast sky.

How did I end up here in the first place?

✦

You move a leaf to the side and pick the fresh strawberry that was stashed there, rinsing it in your small bucket of water and taking a mouthful of the delicious treat.

You hear a shuffle beside you. Turning your head, you see a white bunny hiding behind one of your sunflower pots. You smile and place another strawberry onto the ground before slowly walking away. Your eyes relish how cute the little animal is as they chomp away at your colourful fruit.

You stand in the corner of your garden and decide from then on, you’d feed the hungry bunnies that would stroll into your neighbourhood.

A few days pass and you quickly became friends with two specific bunnies who you named Clover and Daisy. You eventually took them in as your own, rottenly spoiling both of the creatures. You loved having them around because living alone in a small town that was an hour away from the city can definitely become lonely.

“This tastes like candy to you doesn’t it Daisy?” You say as you hold out your hand and watch her nibble it up. The fur around her mouth is stained purple, you laugh at the sight.

“Okay that’s enough blueberries for tonight! You’ll get sick if you keep eating those.” You click the plastic container shut, standing up and walking into your kitchen. You place the container in the side compartment of your fridge for tomorrow and stroll back into your living room.

Your brows furrow. Daisy is gone. Daisy and Clover are such good bunnies, they never leave your sight for more than a minute. You assume she ran to her sister Clover, but your eyes widen in horror when you see your front door slightly more cracked open than it was before you left.

You anxiously open your phone and dial your best friend Frankie. You ramble to her about how stupid you felt for leaving the door open, like you are an irresponsible parent who’s no smarter than a bag of rocks. She calmly tells you to go look for Daisy and that she’ll come over as soon as she can to watch Clover.

“Thank you so so much, Frankie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You sigh in relief, a hand pressed over your chest. You feel your heart jump underneath your palm and your lips trembling with every breath.

“It’s no problem, Y/N/N. Now go look for that bunny, I’ll be over in 5.”

“Bye, thank you again..” You hang up the phone and dart out the door. You frantically look through your shrubs and call her name, but a bright white spot in your peripheral steals your attention.

There she is, bouncing her way into the open forest across the road from you. As soon as she hops out of your view you race towards her, carelessly running past two moving cars. You ignore the frustrated yelling and the beeping horns, continuing to boost into daisies direction.

“DAISY! WAIT!!”

You yell, but your shouting only seems to spur her on. You run after her and neither of you lose pace. You turn corners, run through mud and almost slip doing so at least two times. The animal suddenly picks up it’s speed, turning abruptly and disappearing into a thick bush. You get on your knees and practically rip this bush to shreds, but she was already long gone. Daisy is no more.

You feel tears sting your eyes, ears and cheeks becoming hot from your stress. You sniffle and wipe your tears with the sleeve of your jacket. You knew it was impossible to look for her now. That bunny became your life in just a couple of days, she felt like a childhood pet. The thought of never seeing her again made your heartstrings tie themselves into knots.

You lose the path you were on but you couldn’t care less. You lost your beloved bunny baby; life is no longer worth living. You wonder if Clover’s okay, and how exactly you’d break the news to her.

So lost and full of woe, mind not even switched on, you didn’t notice the thick tree root in front of you until you stub your foot against it and fall forward. You wince and slowly stand up again. Dusting the crunchy leaves off of your clothes, you use the back of your hand to wipe the dripping bead of blood from your cheekbone.

Great, a cut. I’ll have to clean that up when I get home..

You wonder aimlessly with your head hung low. A brisk breeze that brushes past you is what makes you finally look up.

You hug your shoulders as you stare at the gloomy airspace. The sun isn’t beaming, only a variation of different grey clouds flood the sky.

A person? This far out on in the woods?

Wanda thinks. She watches you with a deranged, curious look as you weave yourself through the webs and bushes, seemingly extra careful about tree roots.

You look up from the ground, scanning the area around you and pause when you see the warm glow of her cabin.

My god, she’s gorgeous.

She takes a swift step back so she’s not in the frame of the window anymore, her brows furrowing. She stares at the wall, she hasn’t seen an actual person in so long.

What is a girl like you doing traipsing in the woods?

She peeks again and now you’re making your way over, big wary eyes cautiously examining your surroundings. A shiver rocks through you as you cough into your elbow, then using that arm to place three firm knocks on the door.

You sigh while you wait for someone to answer the door. You switch from tippy toes to the heel of your feet in a nervous manner. The cabin looks great, almost pristine, there’s no way it’s abandoned.

You feel stupid for going into a cabin in the woods. It’s like some dumb movie; you’re just hoping you don’t end up dead. You expect to see an old, wrinkled man the size of a third grader, but your eyes widen when a tall red headed woman swings the door open. You stutter, stunned that a woman like her would live in a place so isolated.

Holy shit, she’s fine.

“Hi, um.. I know it’s a lot to ask but can I stay here for a little bit? I… got lost.” You fiddle with your fingers. She chuckles as she crosses her arms, biting her lip and letting her eyes run up and down your fidgety figure.

“No it’s not asking anything at all. It’s not like I get visitors very often.” She moves to the side and welcomes you in. You look up at her and mumble a small thank you, slowly stepping inside her warm homestead.

The smell of firewood burning and sweet lavender conquer your senses. The comforting atmosphere relaxes you despite how unfamiliar it is. You kick off your boots and grab them so you can neatly place them next to the door. She shuts the door and clicks it locked, quietly making her way over to what looks like her kitchen.

You drink in the sight around you. A tall, cobblestone fireplace lined up against the wall with wood already burning inside of it. A soft lounge suite with a fluffy mat sitting right underneath it. There’s a short hallway and two doors, one you assume leading into her bedroom and the other probably being her bathroom.

One thing you notice in particular is a painting, one with two women sitting on a red velvet couch. One is dressed in white, the other is dressed in black and they both have lace blindfolds wrapped around their heads.

Their Victorian dresses were detailed and long, their lips so close but afraid to touch and give in.

You look away and clench your fists. Your face is now hot, when you entered a remote cabin in the woods, a gay victorian painting was the last thing you expected.

“Take a seat, make yourself comfortable.” The woman’s hoarse voice echoes through the room. Your ears perk up when they catch a touch of an accent.

Is she some type of Russian? That’s hot.

Your anxious form shifts over to her couch to sit down. You sigh in relief, your aching bones melting into the man made cloud that was this woman’s sofa.

“So what’s your name, milaya?” The woman hands you a cup. Your cold fingers feel fuzzy against the hot mug, shuffling back further into her couch so you can sit up comfortably.

“Y/N. You?”

“Wanda.”

A small smile sits on her face that is on some level, disturbing. It’s such a beautiful smile but you can feel something is not right with her. Your intuition has never made itself more distinct, it was less noticeable when you were walking alone outside.

The room feels like it’s getting smaller, the claustrophobia whips the air right out of your lungs. Your eyes flicker between hers. The room starts to spin. Your ears start to ring. Before you could pass out cold, she cups your chin, the gentle gesture pulling you out of your panicked state.

“That’s a nasty cut isn’t it? Would you like me to take care of that?” She says, her tone coaxing. Your curious eyes linger on her,

Why is this stranger being so generous?

If someone entered your home and needed to stay the night, you’d tell them to get lost. She caresses your face softly while she stares at the wound.

“No it’s oka-“ She suddenly pushes a finger to the fresh cut, forcing you to wince and pull away from her. She looks at you in a way you can’t describe, your reaction seemingly piqueing her interest. Her pupils dilate but not enough for you to notice. You look at her with fearful eyes and think to yourself,

Who would do that?

“Actually, that would be nice. Thank you..”

~

Your eyes switch between the steaming drink in your hand and the obviously unhinged redhead sitting next to you. Her aura is intimidating, but you convince yourself it’s paranoia.

I’m in a remote cabin deep in the woods.

Who wouldn’t be unsettled? She’s nice and she helped you…stop being dumb Y/N!

“Thank you again for cleaning my cut, Wanda.” You try to strike up a conversation, but all you’re met with is painful silence. She watches your lips touch the ring of the porcelain teacup, then moving her eyes up to meet your own.

“You’re very observant aren’t you?” You refer to her endless stare, disguising your discomfort with a small chuckle. Her smile widens.

"Fascinuješ ma, miláčik.” “You fascinate me, darling.”

Your brows squeeze together. You wish you could understand what she said, but it felt rude asking her to repeat that in English. You result in shyly looking away and focus on your dangling feet.

Her hand occasionally runs down your back or strokes your arm. Her icy featherlight touches cause goosebumps to ride over your skin. She notices your eyes following her fingers, a mischief smirk hiking up her cheeks.

“You’re so lucky I’m here to help you, dear. What was a girl like you doing in the woods all alone?” Her hand lands on your knee, slowly climbing up closer to your heat and lightly massaging the flesh there. You squirm when she inches closer to your mound, but you’re in her home. She could do anything to you if you said something that upset her.

What if she’s just being nice? I don’t want to offend her…

“I- uh- I was hunting?” You try to paint yourself as tough but fail spectacularly; you can tell by the way she squints her eyes when she hears your answer.

“If that were true, you’d have hunting gear on you, sweetie.” She moves your hair to the other side of your neck to expose the milky skin there. She gawks at your neck like a predator creeping on her prey, ready to pounce on you at any given moment.

The thought of kissing and licking at your silky skin and the vivid image of you biting your plush pink lips made her tremble with desire.

You shrink, staring at the drink in your hands and feeling a strike of vulnerability as you quietly say the words, “I was chasing a bunny..”

“Aww aren’t you precious?” She praises. She toys with the soft threads of your hair, your cheeks glowing a rosy pink from her comment. Her hand squeezes your thigh more roughly, the unexpected act making you jump.

“Such a pretty thing.” She whispers to herself. You don’t catch her words, so you hum and tilt your head, showing your confusion in hopes she would repeat herself.

“Oh… nothing.” She quickly replaces her shock with a crooked grin. Your lips stretch into a small and nervous smile, slowly putting the cup to your mouth again.

A few more moments of silence are present. The crackling of burning wood and the crickets chirping in the distance gave you a chance to finally breathe, although you still struggle to ignore her invasive presence.

“Put the drink down.” You look at her in surprise. You stutter, taken aback by her orders but don’t dare ask any questions. You lick your lips and shuffle, leaning forward to sit the drink on her coffee table. You then move back against the couch and stare into the orange flames in front of you.

“Do you like when people are rough with you, angel?”

You freeze hearing her question. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear ever so gently, grinning when she sees the sheer terror written on your face. There was something eerie about the way she had asked you, a corrupted little twinkle beaming from her eyes.

“Well, no.. N-Not really why?” Your voice is shaking. You know for sure now that this woman is not in her right mind. She could be capable of doing anything and you wouldn’t expect it. She flashes you a charming smile as she continues to twirl and play with your hair, leaning closer to you before whispering,

“Can I tell you a secret?” Your breath hitches softly and your body tenses at the close proximity. You refuse to look at her. You cement your eyes to the flickering fire in front of you. Her hand smoothly travels from your thigh to the zip of your corduroy jacket, slowly pulling down at the metal teeth to reveal your white v-neck shirt and ruby necklace. The sound of your zipper in the unsettling silence makes your skin crawl. You could almost hear the ominous, suspenseful background music. You don’t know what would happen if you deny her, so you hesitantly nod your head.

“I like hurting people… Especially pretty toys like you. I haven’t done it in a long time though.” Her eyes hungrily take in your chilled expression. You gulp when she pulls the jacket off of your shoulders and throws to the side.

“I love to see girls cry, tears running down their sweet little faces…” Her hands rub your upper arms soothingly as she rubbed her nose into the nape of your neck, inhaling your scent. You found yourself unable to move or respond, giving in to her game and listening to her sick train of thought.

“Can I make you cry, please, sweet girl?” She mumbles into your neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin there. Your breathing becomes heavier, needing her so very badly you start to tune out the blaring alarms in your head.

“Wanda listen-” She moves on top of you. She situates herself between your legs giving you no chance to close them, running her hands up and down your thighs. It all happened so fast.

“Pretty please? You’d look so good..” She becomes breathless at the thought, lunging forward and forcefully pushing her lips onto yours. Her lips feel pillowy and soft against yours, she smells of sweet vanilla and a smoky but subtle cinnamon; the mix makes your brain go dizzy with want. She tangles her hands with yours so she can pin your frantic ones onto the couch. Butterflies dance in your stomach, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Her kiss is rough but somehow so soft at the same time, the conflicted feeling makes your heart flutter.

She puts all her body weight onto you, grinding her crotch into yours as she murmurs praises into your mouth. “You’re so fucking cute,” “It’s gonna feel so so good, just let me touch you..”

She slides her tongue across your lip, silently telling you to open your mouth. She angrily tightens her grip on your hands when you groan and clench your jaw shut, forbidding her access.

“Open your mouth, or I’ll find another way to make it stay open.” You whine quietly, slowly opening your mouth and letting her slide in. You whimper and squirm when her hands land on your hips, guiding you to grind against her knee.

“There you go, so so pretty grinding on me like that..” You grab handfuls of her sweater, the fabric of your cotton panties rubbing against you creating the perfect friction. You softly moan her name, back arching while hiding your face in her neck, ashamed how riled up you are from being taken advantage of. One of her hands move from your hip to your thigh, exploring the rest of your body before snaking up your stomach to grope at your breasts.

“Fuck,” She whimpers before biting down on your lip. She twists and teases your nipples between her fingers, feasting on the sight of your pathetic writhing.

“Wanda!” Your movements against her thigh become more frantic, so blissed out you couldn’t care about how needy and dumb you must look.

Your hands advance to her biceps, clutching onto her as you try reach the high you so deeply crave. Your heart thuds in your chest, sweat glistening on your forehead and gasping for air. Your tears soak her shirt, hating yourself for giving in to her but also not willing to stop.

“Cum, make a mess for me bunny..” Her hand grabs your chin and holds it still. You foolishly kept trying to turn your head, but your actions cease when her hand moves from your chin to wrap around your throat.

“Look at me when you cum.” She forces her face impossibly closer to yours, jutting out her jaw and admiring the sparkling tears falling from your eyes. Her breathing becomes ragged listening to your whines and sobs, the throb between her legs intensifying.

“I don’t want to..”

“I don’t care if you want to or not. I won’t let you move until you do.”

Your mouth falls open and your eyes roll to the back of your head, her cruel words somehow pushing you over the edge. Everything becomes white, your thighs shake and your body tenses. Waves of pleasure crash down on you, the euphoric feeling pulsing through you from head to toe.

She eagerly watches you fall apart from your first climax, knowing that she’s not even halfway done with you. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, eyes struggling to stay open and arms spread over the couch.

She carefully pushes her knee further into your pussy, your pleas and protests only making her more excited for what she plans next.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you, angel.”

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

[strang3lov3]

The Real Deal

Frankie uses his tongue to demonstrate why he’s less than impressed with your rose toy. (3.7k)

Tags - 18+ smut, oral sex (f receiving) , sex toys, kissing, nipple stimulation, me popping my Frankie cherry so forgive me for being a little shaky on this. I wrote him to be a little smug and cocky pussy eating expert, but i think he's quite nice also. Fic help - @noxturnalpascal and @endlessthxxghts thank you for your editing, your Frankie guidance, and your endless encouragement, and also @beefrobeefcal I wasn’t supposed to ask you for help on the fic I wrote for you but I did anyway and you were gracious as always. I love you. A/N - as mentioned above, this is my first time writing Frankie so please give me some grace. And it's also rather indulgent despite it being a late birthday gift for @beefrobeefcal, I love you forever and I hope I do Frankie justice for you my beautiful, sweet, generous, thoughtful, caring, intelligent, and wonderful friend. I'm lucky to have you 🩷

The smell of your bedroom comforts you as you take your bra off and hang it on the doorknob. There’s nothing more satisfying than that at the end of a long day. You also remove your pants and panties, swapping them out for a comfortable pair of pajama shorts. You’ve just gotten off of work, it’s Friday night, and you have a date with your phone. 

You lay in your unmade bed in a spot that’s already warmed for you, probably by your cat, Dr. Waffles. You must have spooked him when you entered your apartment. The first app you open is UberEats, and you know exactly what you want: a tuna poke bowl from Cactus Club. You’re about to pay when the app alerts you that your wait time will be about an hour and a half. Fuck. You buy it anyway and open Tumblr, because you know exactly how you’ll kill time. 

You got an alert earlier that one of your favorite writers updated her series Devotion, a story about Joel from The Last of Us where Joel acts as a cult leader. It’s such a hot and thrilling story. You also saw that the writer of the series put in her author’s note that this chapter gets smutty, that Joel will go down on the main character. It’s addled your brain all day, the thought of getting it on with Cult Leader Joel.

You read through the story and as things between the characters begin to get heated, so do you. The writer describes the way Joel eats pussy with such detail that you can almost feel it, can almost hear the noises he makes and the way he dirty talks. You’ve been absentmindedly playing with your clit, feeling your arousal grow as you read on, but you decide to switch masturbation methods as you have just the tool for the occasion - your trusty rose toy. One of your best friends, Kiki, gifted it to you last year after she caught you reading smut on your phone. She said the sex toy shop was having a buy one, get one free deal and she knew just the friend to share the sweet deal with. 

The toy seemed gimmicky when you went home and opened it, what with that almost cartoonish-looking tongue right in the center of the petals. And it smelled strongly of isopropyl alcohol. But for shits and giggles, you washed it and charged it anyway and that night with the silicone rose between your thighs, your life was changed. That little tongue worked magic on your clit and had you coming more times than you could count, endless orgasms that had you seeing stars. 

With your phone in your left hand, you can’t peel your eyes away from the screen as you reach for the drawer of your nightstand. With your hand on the knob, you pull the drawer  but it doesn’t open. Odd. You tug the drawer again, and then again, and then you’re turning on your side to really yank that goddamn drawer. Each time you pull, you rock the nightstand against the wall, no doubt denting it but you don’t give a shit. Waffles made sure you’re not getting your security deposit back anyway, that much is evident in the shredded carpets and scratched up door frames.

A pounding at your door has you stopping what you’re doing. “I know, I’m coming,” you say, more to yourself than whoever’s slamming on your door at the ungodly hour of 7pm. You open the door to one annoyed Frankie Morales glaring at you with his arms crossed. 

Frankie’s your criminally handsome next door neighbor who lives in the apartment to the left of you. All it took from him was one look at his sparkly, chocolatey brown eyes, his aquiline nose, and those curls peeking out from under his baseball cap and you knew you were in trouble. 

 You moved into the complex shortly after he did a couple of years ago, and Frankie took pity on you when he saw your brother leave halfway through the job. Frankie, already sore from moving all of his furniture just two days prior, decided to help you move in the rest of your stuff. The next day after grocery shopping, you made him a lasagna and a pan of brownies to thank him for his generosity, and thus began a system of sorts. Frankie enjoyed your food thoroughly, and you enjoyed having someone to share meals with, especially since you never could get the hang of cooking for just one. So you’d make dinner and share it with him a couple of nights every week, and in turn Frankie would take care of the maintenance in your apartment so your landlord wouldn’t find out about Waffles, the cat you’re not supposed to have. Frankie quickly became one of your best friends.

“Hi, Frankie,” you said. “Can I help you?”

“Hi, sweetheart. Yes, you can help by telling me what your reason is for beating the shit out of that wall we share,” he says. “What are you even doing?”

“Sorry, the drawer to my nightstand was stuck and I was trying to open it,” you stated. 

“Did you get it?”

“Did I get what?”

“Did you get the door open,” he clarifies. 

“No,” you answer. 

“So if I leave, are you gonna keep banging on the wall?” Frankie asks. You shrug. “That’s a yes,” he says. “Would you like me to help you open it?”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“I insist. Need to sleep, I got an early morning.” 

You open the door wider to let Frankie inside. Waffles makes his appearance at that moment and meows at Frankie. “Yeah, yeah,” he says to the cat. “Hello to you too, pancake.”

“Waffles,” you correct. “That’s such a dumb joke.”

Frankie snickers, “Funny to me,” he smirks. 

You lead him to your bedroom and point at the nightstand. “That one,” you tell him. It’s an old nightstand, and it might’ve been nice at one point, but it was handed down to you by your brother who no doubt absolutely wrecked the poor piece of furniture. It’s a little crooked now, and the drawer’s tracks are bent so it never opens and closes nicely. 

Frankie tries opening the drawer but struggles just as you did. You don’t mind though, because from where you’re standing, you’ve got a perfect view of his ass that’s definitely filled out some since you began feeding the man. “You weren’t lying. Damn thing really is fucking stuck, huh?” Frankie grunts as he tries wriggling it open again, “What’s even in here that you need so urgently anyway?”

Oh, fuck. You didn’t even think about that, that he’d be seeing your rose toy and only your rose toy in that drawer. “Umm,” you think, “My phone charger.” Which is a dumb lie, because right next to Frankie is the outlet your charger is plugged into. Quietly, you pull it out and toss it under your bed so he doesn’t see. 

“It’s really jammed,” Frankie says. “Fuck.”

“I know, just be careful, please,” you tell him. “You don’t need to open it all the way. Actually, you don’t even have to open it at all, if it’s too much.”

That was the wrong thing to say to deter Frankie from opening your drawer. He’s got quite the competitive streak in him, so your comment only fuels him to pull the drawer harder. He pulls the nightstand away from the wall and gives it one good and strong tug and the drawer flies open, and with it your rose toy, right into Frankie. He catches it with ease, and you could die right then and there. 

“I know what this is,” Frankie murmurs quietly, turning around to face you. “So that’s your treasure chest, huh?”

With your face and your neck on fire, you try to swipe the toy out of Frankie’s hand but he pulls it out of reach. “Frankie, give it,” you snap. 

“No, no,” he smiles. “I gotta see this thing.”

Frankie swats you away as you try to take the toy back from him. He uses one hand and fumbles with it until it whizzes to life, the tongue flicking up and down in his hand. “Oh, wow,” he says. “Quite the motor in this baby.” Frankie holds the toy away from you as you try and try to grab it from him, but his grip is too strong. Finally, you give up and let him entertain himself with the thing. It’ll be an uncomfortable five minutes, but it’ll be over eventually. He’ll lose interest, just like a toddler.

You sit on the bed and Frankie sits next to you as he messes with the toy. He hums as he holds the flicking tongue against the palm of his hand. “This can’t be fun,” he comments. “But if it works for you, who am I to judge?”

“It is fun,” you defend. “It…yeah. It’s fun.” 

“But it’s so cold. And stiff,” Frankie argues. “No finesse, either.”

His comment has you intrigued, “Frankie, what do you mean, ‘no finesse’?”

“Well, look here,” Frankie shows you the toy, “Look at the tongue. It just goes up and down. It’s mechanical, you know? There’s no fluidity,” he explains. “And it sounds like those tools they use on you at the dentist’s office.” 

“Oh.”

“But, you know. If you’re happy with it, then more power to ya, I guess.” You nod as you take in the words Frankie speaks, staring at that whirring toy in his big hands your mind starts to wander. “Are you happy with it?” he asks.

“Yeah, I guess,” you reply. “It’s fine.”

“Fine, huh? How’s it compare?” 

“Compare to what?”

“You know,” Frankie says. “The real deal.” 

“Well, I don’t really receive ‘the real deal’,” you admit quietly. “So…”

“Ohhh. I get it. No frame of reference, then,” Frankie replies. A beat passes as he shuts off the toy. “Would you like the real deal?”

“Yeah, of course. I mean, who wouldn’t. But–”

Frankie interrupts, “No, I’m askin’ you. Right now, would you like the real deal? Feel what it’s supposed to feel like from a real man?” 

You understand what Frankie’s asking now. Your mouth drops open and you feel that exciting sort of lurch in your stomach.

“Feel a real man, with real lips, a real tongue. Real hands. We’ll broaden your horizons. What do you say?”

It almost doesn’t feel real. You laugh, uncomfortably, but Frankie looks at you with all seriousness. You can’t believe you’re gonna say yes. Of course you’re gonna say yes. Looking at Frankie, you nod quickly.  

“Words, baby,” he says. “How about a yes?”

It’s the way he calls you baby, with no hesitation. “Yes. Yes, definitely. I need that.”

“Need, huh? Poor thing,” Frankie places the toy on your nightstand and moves up your bed, inviting you to join him. He notices your shaky legs as you crawl to meet him, your movements unsure. “Relax,” he whispers, smiling at you. “Relax.” You nod and your nerves ignite as Frankie touches you, his big hand holding your face. “I’m just gonna kiss you. That’s all for now.”

“Okay.”

And then he does. He kisses you gently at first, taking mental notes of how you react. You’re rigid at first, but he just kisses you. Nothing more, nothing less. When he feels your muscles relax and you let go a little bit, let yourself fall back and relax into your bed, Frankie takes initiative and kisses you deeper. He smiles when you moan quietly into his mouth, then kisses down your jaw and your neck. “Your toy can’t kiss you like I can, huh?”

“No, Frankie,” you sigh. 

“So that’s another point Frankie, then,” he mumbles against your skin. You’d roll your eyes if you weren’t enjoying yourself so much. “May I lift your shirt?”

“Mhm,” you nod, loving the way he asks permission. Frankie pushes the fabric up your chest and he wears a smirk on his face, and he’s got a certain sparkle to his dark eyes as he takes in your body, all of your soft, creamy flesh, your pebbled nipples. “And actually,” he says, reaching for your rose toy and turning it back on. “Since we’re comparing - experimenting, really, we should test both variables. Scientific method and all that.” 

“This doesn’t feel very scientific,” you tell him, giggling as you speak. 

“Sure it is, I’m a professional at this. Been studying for years. Watch - Do you prefer…” Frankie begins, he brings the toy to one of your nipples and lets the tongue flick back and forth over it. “One…” he whispers, though you can hardly hear him over your own gasps and moans. “Or two?” he licks the nipple not being teased by your toy, first swirling his tongue in circles around your areola and then gently sucks the sensitive skin. Your noises are music to his ears as your moans become louder. 

“Two,” you answer, “Two.” 

“You know why that is?” he asks, moving to lick and tease your other nipple. “Because your toy can’t go in circles, can’t suck. Can’t really tease you , either. Can’t do most of the things you’re supposed to do to a pair of tits as pretty as yours, sweetheart.” Frankie watches your reaction to his words, smirking as your cheeks heat up and you turn your face from him. “It’s true. You’re beautiful.” 

After a few more moments of Frankie kissing and licking your nipples, he presses sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down your torso, over your tummy. “Would you lift those hips for me, sweetheart?”

You lift your hips like he asks and Frankie hooks his fingers under the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down your legs. His hand brushes over a damp spot of the fabric, and he rubs his thumb over it, admiring. “Good god, you made a mess. This all for me? Just from a little kissing?”

You nod bashfully, unsure of what to say to him. Frankie doesn’t mind, he knows that this is the part where a woman is likely to feel a little shy, vulnerable. He doesn’t know exactly what he’s working with here with you, whether you’ve received head before or not. Maybe you have, but it’s been a long time. Or maybe it was bad. He thinks about your answer to one of his questions, how you told him you’re not really receiving ‘the real deal’ and he doesn’t need to know why, he just needs to change that and eat you like his life depends on it.

Eating pussy is Frankie’s passion. Nothing compares to it, being buried in that soft, warm, wet space between a woman’s thighs. Simultaneously, it makes him feel both submissive and powerful. He loves the way some become shy when he eats them, he loves the way others shove his face between their legs. He loves the feeling of having his hair pulled as he licks, when thighs squeeze his head and he has to ease them back open. He loves the way her whole body quivers when she comes, he loves the taste, the smell, the feel and the intimacy of it all. 

Frankie places both hands on your knees and spreads your legs wide so he has space for himself between them. He begins by kissing your inner thighs, the wiry hairs of his patchy, graying beard and his mustache tickle you. “We’re gonna compare again. Are you ready, beautiful?”

“Yes,” you answer. “I’m ready.” 

Frankie brings the rose to your core and allows it to do its thing. He chuckles as you reach for his hand and adjust the way he holds the toy against your pussy to your needs. “Gotta hold it like that, huh?”

“Yeah, like that.” 

“Duly noted.” 

Frankie rests the side of his head against one of your thighs and watches you as the toy works its magic. You’re moaning nicely, but he’ll make you moan louder. He loves the way your brows knit together, he loves the steady rise and fall of your chest with your panting breaths. 

It feels so foreign, having Frankie hold the toy instead of your own hands. It still feels good, though. You rock your hips into it, chasing your quickly building orgasm. 

And then Frankie shuts it off. “Frankie,” you whine. “You–”

“I know, I know. You were having so much fun. But I’ve got a fucking bone to pick.” 

“What?” 

“Your toy’s blocking the view. I don’t wanna see that, I wanna see you.” 

Frankie tosses the toy to the side of the bed and once more spreads your legs wide. He admires your pussy, the glistening wetness dripping from your hole, the ribbons of creamy arousal on your folds. And your bush, he loves the dampened curls framing your beautiful cunt. “Such a pretty pussy,” he praises. “You gonna let me show you what you’ve been missing?”      

“Please, Frankie,” you beg. “I want that.”  

“You’re so sweet t’me,” he whispers. Frankie situates himself, adjusts your hips into position. He licks one long stripe up your seam, slowly and with a flat tongue, from the bottom all the way to the top. 

“Frankie,” you moan. “Oh, fuck.”           

“Oh, I know,” Frankie coos. “That felt good, didn’t it? That piece of plastic can’t lick you like that, can it?” 

“No,” you agree. “Again, Frankie, please.”

“It’d be my pleasure, sweetheart.” 

He licks another long stripe up you, then down. He focuses on just tasting you, getting you used to the feeling of his tongue in your folds. “Your toy doesn’t go in circles down here either, that's what the tongue is supposed to do.” Frankie demonstrates this by drawing circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue, first clockwise, then counter clockwise. Interestingly, your loudening moans indicate you prefer counter clockwise. Frankie takes note of this, files it away in his head. 

“And it doesn’t suck your clit,” he adds, “Like this –” he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks it between them, causing your legs to clamp around his head, just like he loves. And though he loves it, that uncontrollable, mindless reflex, he whispers to you, “Nuh-uh, sweetheart. You spread those legs nice and wide. That’s it, good girl.” 

It’s such an intense feeling, your clit between his lips and the pressure of his mouth sucking. He switches back to gentle but consistent licks on the sensitive part of you. “And you can correct me if I’m wrong, but you can’t really finger yourself while usin’ your toy, can you?” 

“Haven’t - haven’t tried, I don’t think - fuck, Frankie - I don’t –”

“Mm. I understand.”

Frankie pulls away from you and dips two fingers into your cunt, pumping them in and out for a moment before he curls them rhythmically inside you. He finds that special, sensitive spot that intensifies all of it and moves his mouth to your clit yet again. 

He eats you ravenously, losing himself in your pussy yet manages to maintain focus on you. He feels you coming close, that slow build of your orgasm quickening in time, and he wants to drag it out. “The other thing –” he begins, “About your little toy. It takes all the hard work away, makes it less satisfying for us both, don’t you think?” he says in between pleasuring you with his tongue and his fingers. “Takes all the fun away.”

Frankie reaches for your clit with his free hand and pulls your hood back. He flicks his tongue over you and you respond to the intensified feeling by reaching for his head, tugging his soft curls between your fingers. “Frankie, oh my god. Frankie,” you cry. 

“Listen to yourself,” he says. “You moan so pretty when I’m tasting you, don’t you think?”

It’s unclear whether Frankie expects you to answer his question or not, but you do in your own way, with his name falling from your lips in broken syllables. Your orgasm builds slowly, more intensely, in a more gratifying way than you’ve ever felt. You don’t just feel it in your core, between your thighs, but you feel it in your tummy and the bottom of your spine, the backs of your thighs and all down your legs. You come with a melody of curses and praises as pleasure washes over you in seemingly never ending waves, Frankie using his tongue to fuck you through it until the very end, when you’re shuddering and your body is twitching.

You’ve never seen such a cocky, satisfied smile before. When you open your eyes, Frankie’s smirking between your thighs, absolutely pleased with himself as he sucks his fingers clean. “So what’s the verdict?”

You smile and roll your eyes. “You know what the verdict is.”

“Mhm. I do, but I gotta hear you say it anyway.”

“It’s you,” you mumble, a grin on your lips. “You win.”

Frankie beams proudly, and the moment passes quickly. It ends with a knock on your door as your UberEats is delivered. “Who’s that?” Frankie asks. 

“Dinner,” you answer. You sit up in bed and find your pajama shorts, put them on and leave your bedroom to get your food. Frankie follows you as you open your front door and bend over to get your order. You put the bag in your fridge. 

“You’re not gonna eat?”

“I need to return the favor,” you tell him. “It’s your turn.”

“I’m flattered, but what you need to do is eat, my darling. Enjoy your meal. I enjoyed mine.” You roll your eyes at the way Frankie winks at you. “We can worry about returning the favor later,” he presses a chaste kiss to your lips, your taste and smell lingers on his skin and in his mustache. You hum in surprise. “You taste that? Tastes good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you murmur.

“Tastes good to me too. Nice reminder of what we were just doing, hm? You looked so pretty underneath me.” Frankie kisses you again, “Goodnight, sweetheart,” he says, and with that, he leaves. 

If you enjoyed, please tell me so 🩷 reblogs, comments, and asks are so appreciated and keep me motivated to write

THIS IS WAFFLES! @beefrobeefcal’s cat!! One of them at least. I love this guy. Mr President. He’s the mayor

[sa-bo]

I've been watching One Piece for a while and ima be honest--it's good, REALLY good, it lives up to the hype. But it REALLY takes a while for Usopp to shine as a character if you don't like his usefulness being limited to his comedic relief. Like hoooly shit he gets really good like he's a really good character but you don't see that until like... Seasons 3 and 4. I wish they'd taken him a bit more seriously earlier on because his best character arc has absolutely been the Water 7 arc so far this shit is kinda heart-breaking