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the-blind-assassin-12 · 1 year

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Sheer Desire

A/N: So this was definitely not planned to be the first thing I post in the new year. In fact, it started as a kinktober prompt (stockings & lingerie) that got sidelined and seemed to double like bread dough while I wasn’t looking. I wanted to finish up the last few holiday-ish things that I had planned and get them up this week... but Frankie had other plans. And who tf am I to stop him? This follows along with the other Frankie x Reader pieces I’ve written, but can also be read as a stand alone. I hope you enjoy!!

WC: 8.7k

Warnings: language, smut, Francisco Morales’ mouth ;)

Summary: You and Frankie attend Benny’s wedding together, and he struggles to keep his hands to himself the whole night. Until he doesn’t have to. That’s it, that’s the fic.

Look at that. Seven whole minutes to spare.

Blowing out a relieved breath, you pulled into one of the few remaining spots in the area of the hotel lot cordoned off for event parking, the signs reading Welcome to the wedding of Alana Ruiz & Benjamin Miller in gold script. You knew you’d be cutting it close, working an open shift at the bar and then racing home to clean up, change and grab your things for the weekend before hitting the road and making the two and a half hour drive down to Marco Island, but there hadn’t been another option. It was the first major event that Frankie had invited you to since you’d taken the next step in your relationship, so you’d done what you had to to make it work. I’m just glad I’m not late.

Picking up your phone from the cup holder, you sent a quick text to let Frankie know that you’d made it. He and the rest of the wedding party had gotten there the night before for the rehearsal dinner, and he had been checking in with you every few hours throughout the day to make sure that nothing had changed as far as your ETA. You knew that it was partially because of his military background, wanting to make sure that things were running according to plan. But as you scrolled through the messages he’d sent, you couldn’t help the smile that curved your lips. But it's also because he’s excited.

Your smile grew as you set the device back in the cupholder and reached down to slide off the flip flops you’d worn to drive in. Tossing them to the floor on the passenger side, you grabbed the pair of sheer black stockings that you’d shoved in your purse on your way out the door. You’d been unsure if you wanted to wear them, and you didn’t have time to decide before you left. But as soon as they were in your hand, you pictured the way they would look balled up in Frankie’s grip later in the night, and the fire that flared in you at that image made the decision for you.

Taking a few seconds, you rolled them up your legs and then shoved your feet into the pair of low wedge heels you’d chosen for the night. You checked your reflection in the visor mirror, touching up your lipstick with the tip of your pinky finger. Okay, good to go. You took a breath, and then you took your phone and purse and hurried towards the walkway that led to where the rows of chairs were set up overlooking the water. Here I come, Frankie.

– – –

The ceremony was beautiful. It had been timed almost perfectly so that the sunset painted the Gulf in shades of rosy copper and ripples of indigo, the shadowy silhouettes of palm trees acting as a backdrop for the I do’s. Benny and Alana had chosen to write their own vows, and Alana’s brother had been the one to officiate, so it had been intimate and personal, the love and happiness between the two of them absolutely tangible.

As was the feeling of Frankie’s eyes on you from his place between Will and Pope on Benny’s right. All three of them looked fantastic in the brown suits that they wore, but your focus was only on the man in the middle. Damn, Morales.

You locked your gaze with his and smiled, mouthing the word hi. Your lower lip slipped between your teeth at the way he lifted his hand away from his leg just enough to give you a covert wave. Oh, look at him. His cheek rose in a lopsided grin that only made him more attractive - especially when you noticed his dimple peeking through one of the patches in his beard.

You’d been falling in love with Frankie for months, finding yourself a little deeper in it every day. But you took a steep tumble that night.

And though you had ended up spending most of the cocktail hour on your own, Frankie and the others wrapped up in greeting guests and taking pictures, when he finally did get his arms around you, you felt that he was already there, ready to catch you. Ready to dive in even further with you.

“Hey,” he said, his hands finding their way to your waist as soon as you were in reach, his lips seeking yours the second the single syllable left them. “Missed you.” His fingers flexed in the satin of your dress as he kissed you again, this time slower and longer, one hand rising up to cup the side of your face. You leaned into his touch, your smile pushing your cheek against his palm. “Glad you’re here.”

“Hey yourself, Frankie.” Your left hand slid inside his jacket, smoothing over his side and around to press flat against his broad back. None of the groomsmen wore ties, so the fingers of your right hand curled around his lapel, that forearm resting against his chest. “Missed you, too.” You smiled against his lips as you continued to kiss him.

As soon as he felt your lips part, his tongue slipped into your mouth to glide atop yours, stealing your breath, and then he was pulling back and bumping the tip of your nose with his. “You are so damn beautiful.” Both hands settled at your waist again as his eyes swept up and down your frame, noticing the way your dress hung on your hips to flare slightly at your knees, appreciating the low cut of the neckline and the small triangular cutout that was just visible under the knotted tie that embellished the top. And then he noticed your legs and the way they looked encased in sheer black nylon, so thin it was barely there at all, and he groaned. “Gonna have a hard time keeping my hands to myself for the next few hours.”

That makes two of us. “You know, you clean up pretty well yourself, Morales. It’s not gonna be easy for me, either.” The hand that you had on his back came to join the other, gripping both lapels and tugging on them. You let out a small laugh, closing your eyes and shaking your head. “Guess it's a good thing we’re staying here then, huh?” Opening your eyes again, you arched one brow and smirked at him. “Two and a half hours isn’t a short drive and-”

He cut you off then, eyes darkening as they narrowed slightly but never left yours. “If we were driving home tonight? I wouldn’t wait.” There was a raspy quality to his voice that wiped the teasing grin right off of your face as you realized what he meant. He had driven down with Pope the night before so that he could drive home with you, so you’d be in the same car. Oh, fuck. Your heart thudded hard, and you felt your eyes go wide as he leaned in to finish telling you what would happen on the ride home if you didn’t have a room for the weekend. “I can drive with my left hand, and the right one can-”

Just then you heard your name being called from somewhere behind you. Frankie winked and let the rest of his words hang, knowing that you knew damn well what his free hand would be doing in that scenario. Oh, you are gonna be trouble tonight, Francisco. Tearing your eyes away from him, you looked up to see Pope walking over, his arm wrapped around the waist of a stunning brunette in a burgundy dress. Wait a minute, is that…

You glanced back up at Frankie, a smile spreading across your lips. “Is that Yovanna? I thought Pope said she couldn’t make it!”

“Yeah.” He nodded as you released the collar of his jacket, arms going back to your sides after reaching across your chest to secure the strap of your purse on your shoulder. “She flew in this morning to surprise him.” His chuckle turned his eyes light and warm again as his hands left your body, too, and it was clear to see how glad he was about his friend’s happiness. Good. He deserves it. They all do.

Your eyebrows flew up. “Wow, that’s a hell of a surprise. I bet he was excited.”

“He was. Shoulda seen his face when she called from the airport.” Frankie leaned down to drop a kiss to your temple as the other couple came within a few strides of where you stood. “Surprises are nice,” he whispered in your ear. “But I liked knowing you were gonna be here.” I did, too.

Pope reached for you then, giving you a hug and introducing you to the woman you’d heard so much about but had yet to meet, and then the four of you went to catch up with Will at the bar, Frankie’s fingers laced with yours as you walked. Your group was joined by the two bridesmaids that had walked down the aisle with Will, both women eyeing the older Miller brother. His and Benny’s cousin Mark was supposed to have been the fourth groomsman, but he’d broken his leg in three places just a few weeks out from the wedding and was in a full hip to toe fiberglass cast. To keep anyone from having to walk alone, Will had been assigned both of Alana’s college roommates - who also happened to be the only two of the four bridesmaids that were single - and it seemed as though neither of them cared that he had his arms around them both. Oh, this is going to be a fun night. You grinned as you finished your drink, an autumn evening breeze sweeping through the courtyard.

– – –

It hadn’t dawned on you that you and Frankie had never danced together until the DJ opened the floor for all couples to join the bride and groom.

When else would we have, though?

Despite all the milestones and things you had shared since things had become more serious, and even though there were definitely more important and significant bridges to cross in the future, the feeling that you got when he led you out amongst the sea of couples was one of pure elation. It swirled in your chest, and if it weren’t for the way his arms kept you grounded as he took you in his hold, you would have thought it possible for you to float away. Doing new things with him - even something as normal as dancing together at a friend’s wedding - made you realize that you wanted to do everything with him.

Frankie clasped your hand in his and brought it to his chest, his other hand sliding south into the dip at the base of your spine. With his next swaying step he pressed you closer, shrinking the space between your bodies until you could feel each breath that filled his lungs and the way that his heart beat didn’t match the slow cadence of the song that you were dancing to. Mine doesn’t either, though.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath in through your nose, the arm you had around his torso tightening to mirror the hold he had on you. Frankie’s cologne - mixed with the scent of the smoky whiskey he drank at the cocktail hour - nearly overwhelmed your senses as you laid your head against his shoulder, your head spinning as you let your breath back out. He smells so damn good. The slow sweep of his thumb up and down your back sent a tingle through your bloodstream that only intensified when you felt his lips brush your forehead, where he left a featherlight kiss and two whispered words.

“Thank you.”

Eyes opening, you squeezed his hand and picked your head up to meet his gaze. Despite the fact that the dance floor was packed with couples - the two of you had bumped shoulders with Pope and Yovanna on one side, and the newly minted Millers on the other - he was all you could see. And he’s all I want. You smiled, head tilted to one side as you blinked at him. “For what?”

Raising your joined hands to his lips, he kissed your curled fingers before returning them to where they were. “For this. Tonight. Being my date.” He swallowed, your eyes flicking down to track the movement of his throat before coming back up to his face. “For showing up for me.”

“Frankie,” you spoke his name softly, leaning in to nuzzle the ridge of your nose against the line of his jaw, his normal scruff cropped closer to his face for the occasion but still long enough for you to feel it. I’ll always show up for you, Francisco Morales. As long as you want me to.

“For everything.” He sighed, flexing the fingers of his right hand against your back, the tips pushing into the material of your dress and your flesh beneath it. There was no space left between you to eliminate, but that didn’t seem to matter to him as he urged you closer. “I don’t thank you enough.”

You closed your eyes and let him tuck you into his chest as the song continued, his arm wrapping more tightly around you. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, making it easy for you to press your lips to his neck. His skin was warm where you kissed him, and you trailed a few more small kisses up towards his ear, the soft curls behind it tickling your cheek. “You don’t have to thank me, Frankie,” you whispered. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“I do, though.” He surprised you then, picking up the hand that was twined with yours and looping it around you at the same time that he used the one resting on your spine to turn you. Oh, alright. You gasped, the sound becoming a small laugh and then a warm hum as his arms resettled around your waist with yours crossed over one another, your back to his front and his chin over your shoulder. “And when we get up to our room later?” He curved his free hand around your hip and pulled you to him, so that his next two words could only be taken one way. “I will.”

A shiver ran from the shell of your ear down to your toes, your body responding by sending waves of heat to crash through your lower belly. Fuck, Frankie. He waited a few beats before turning you back to your original hold, and you were grateful for the time to get your suddenly racing heart somewhat under control. When you were face to face again, you opened your eyes to see just a touch of smugness in his grin. Because you know just what you’re doing, don’t you? The sincerity of what he’d been saying just before he set you ablaze, though, was still the most prominent thing you saw in his expression.

“Oh yeah?” You freed your hand from his and brought it up to his forehead to push a rogue curl back into place. It slipped stubbornly down again with his nod and you let it, your palm resting on his shoulder momentarily. “Well I like the sound of that, Frankie.”

His eyes flashed, and it didn’t matter that the courtyard was strung with small bulbs of golden light or that beyond them, the whole night sky was on display. That look… His hand came up to his shoulder to scoop yours into it again, his thumb pressing into the cup of your palm before his fingers curled over your knuckles. “Good.” You could tell that the song you were dancing to was ending, and you knew that meant that in just a few moments you’d be seated at your table. But it seemed Frankie wasn’t done stirring things in you just to let them simmer for the next few hours. As the music began to fade out, he pulled you close and made sure that no one else could hear. “I like your sounds.” He nipped at your earlobe and you had to swallow a whimper. “Wanna hear ‘em all tonight.”

Oh, don’t worry, you’re going to.

You knew that wasn’t going to be an issue. Because of the way that you had to move your schedule around to take off the rest of the weekend and the following Monday, and since Frankie had Oliver the previous week, the two of you hadn’t spent the night together in a little over fourteen days. But now we’ve got three in a row. Just us. Before you could respond to what he’d said though, the DJ was thanking everyone for joining Benny and Alana for their first dance and asking that you all be seated for the toasts. Biting your lower lip in lieu of an answer, you shook your head as Frankie winked at you, and then you let him lead you to your table.

Pope and Yovanna were already back, along with two of the bridesmaids and their spouses, but you passed Will as he made his way in the opposite direction, where the other two bridesmaids stood ready to start the toasts. You mouthed a “good luck” to him, the man giving you a bright grin as Frankie clapped him on the shoulder and mumbled, “Don’t fuck up, Ironhead.”

“Yeah, fuck you too, Fish,” Will shot back under his breath as he elbowed Frankie, who snorted.

The interaction was entirely commonplace for their group of friends, and it made you happy to know that after everything that the four of them had gone through together - some of which you understood that you might never know - they’d always have each other’s backs, always be there for one another during their best and worst times. You leaned into Frankie, your bare arm pressed to the sleeve of his jacket. And this is one of the good times.

Turning your head, you kissed his bicep and hoped for nothing but good times for a long time.

He pulled out a chair for you and you sank into it as he sat in the one next to it, listening intently as Will delivered a heartfelt toast to his little brother and new sister-in-law. Ending it by raising his glass, Will asked that everyone do the same. After listening to the things he said - about love, trust, growth and support, and how the best relationships, like Benny and Alana’s, had all of those things - you weren’t surprised to find that your eyes were damp as you took a sip of champagne.

Because… You swallowed, watery eyes shifting to the man beside you. Because so do we. Clearing your throat, you swallowed again, though this time it was a lump of emotion instead of a bubbly beverage. “Will’s too good at public speaking.” You sniffed, leaning over towards Frankie, indicating the tears shining in your eyes.

He let out a small laugh, but you could see that the speech had struck a chord with him as well. “He is,” Frankie agreed, reaching over to brush away some of the wetness you missed on your cheek.

Will was finishing up by wrapping Benny and Alana in a hug, and then he handed the microphone over to the two women who were making a toast together, before making his way back to your group. You set your glass back down as you felt Frankie’s hand cover your knee under the table. He’d gathered the skirt of your dress up, pushing it aside so that his thumb could slowly stroke over the sheer material stretched over your legs, and though you were still thinking about what Will had just said, you were immediately distracted by what Frankie was doing. The way that his touch roved inward and higher up your thigh sent a fresh flood of heat into your belly, his warm exhale against your skin as he leaned close to whisper to you while Alana’s maid of honor continued her part of the speech only making it that much more difficult to pay attention.

“I know I said it already but.. you look incredible tonight.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “You always do.’ Before you could respond, he lightly squeezed your leg, fingers tightening just above your knee before spreading out over the thin barrier between his flesh and yours. “These things are drivin’ me crazy, though.” He dug his fingertips in just enough to test the elasticity, letting out a quiet but throaty sigh as he relaxed his grip again. The sound made your eyes snap up to meet his, their depths darkened by his next few words. Oh, shit. “I wanna see them. But I also can’t wait to get them off you.”

The space around you broke out in good-natured laughter at something that Megan said in her toast, but you had no idea what it was because at that exact moment, Frankie’s hand slid higher up your leg - high enough for him to realize that it wasn’t a pair of regular pantyhose that you were wearing. They were thigh high stockings, topped with delicate black lace that hugged your legs. His eyes widened, a bolt of desire crashing through them that you swore you could feel.

Because that means… “You can take them off, Frankie.” You sucked in a breath as his thumbnail lightly scraped over the embellished top and onto your skin before sliding beneath the elastic, your heart hammering. “But you don’t have to.”

He stared at you then, his whole chest expanding with his inhale, and even though you were having a great time celebrating the new Mr. and Mrs. Miller, you couldn’t wait to get up to your hotel room so you could let that spark catch and consume you. Can’t leave yet though.

“Oh, I will.” He arched one brow, gently pressing the thumb that was still beneath your stocking into the flesh of your thigh. “Eventually.”

That time when the toast ended and you were supposed to drink to the newlyweds, neither of you had your glass in hand. You hadn’t even noticed the cheers and applause, the flashes of photos being taken. Instead, you stared at the flick of Frankie’s tongue as it poked between his lips to wet them, and you knew he was watching the way your breastbone rose and sank with your stunted breaths at the suggestions you both were making.

I- we can’t… Not yet, it just… There were still hours left in the evening - dinner and dancing and celebrating and cake and pictures and… And he’s in the wedding party. He can’t disappear this early. “Jesus, Frankie, the night just started and-”

He withdrew his hand then, a devilish grin softening into something more teasing. “I know. Like I said…” He winked, lips twitching into a full on smile before pressing together as he nodded. “Eventually.”

Oh, wearing these was definitely the right call.

– – –

A few hours - and several more less than subtle hints from both of you - later, your cheeks were sore from laughing and smiling. The party was starting to wind down, the clock ticking towards the end of the night, when you felt Frankie’s grip squeeze your leg under the table again. “Gonna go get one more drink from the bar.” He cocked his head to the side. “And then we can…” He let his sentence trail off, raising one eyebrow and slipping his thumb under the lacy elastic band around your thigh. “How’s that sound?”

You sucked in a breath, teeth biting down on your lower lip as you nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, leaning in to press his nose against your cheek, lips close to your ear. “Sounds.” Oh, fuck. “Be right back.”

With that he stood, following Pope and Will over to the bar. Yovanna had excused herself to use the restroom, so you were left alone at the table, your stomach swooping and your heart pounding. Your mind filled once more with the image that inspired your fashion choice for the night - Frankie’s thick, strong, rough fingers clutching the delicate sheers after removing them from your body - and you felt a ripple of excitement at how close you were to seeing it come true. Soon. So soon. He’s gonna come back and then-

And then you snapped your head up as Benny’s voice hit your ear, the man grinning as he waved around the glass in his hand and made his way to your table. He was clearly drunk - but happily and pleasantly so, a slight stumble to his swagger but not at all inappropriate for a groom at his own wedding. This is the happiest I’ve ever seen him. Pressing pause on the thoughts that were just about to run rampant as you stared dazedly out at the darkened beach beyond the dunes, you broke into a genuine smile of your own as he got closer.

“Hey, Benny,” you pulled out the chair next to you, indicating that he could sit. “You just missed the guys, they went over to the-”

The single cube of ice in his glass knocked against the side of it as he took a big swig of his beverage. Eyebrows gathered and forehead rumpled, he held up his free hand and mumbled an un-uh, shaking his head as he swallowed. “Nope, I came over to talk to you.”

You laughed and cocked your head to the side. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Listen, I just-” He swung himself into the empty seat next to you with a sigh, setting his glass down next to Frankie’s discarded silverware. “I’m sorry Alana didn’t wanna do the whole,” he brought both hands in front of himself and mimed an over the shoulder throwing motion before continuing. “The whole toss the flowers thing.” The movement caused his whole body to tip to one side, both of your hands reaching out to stop him from falling off his seat. Though I don’t know if it would do anything. Luckily your help wasn’t necessary, Benny righting himself by gripping the table and shifting his weight. He closed one eye in an exaggerated wink and pointed at you with a grin. “Woulda put my money on you catchin’ it, and then…” He jerked his head towards the bar and waited for you to look over.

Though you already knew what you would see when you did, you still sucked in a breath at the sight of him, warmth spreading over your cheeks, and bursting in your chest. He’s… oh, look at him. Frankie stood waiting for drinks with Pope and Will, a deeply genuine laugh brightening his features as he jokingly smacked Pope’s shoulder, Will doubled over in laughter as well. It made you happy, seeing him like that, and you watched the three of them - focusing on Frankie - with a smile on your lips for a few more seconds before you turned back to face Benny.

Suddenly, the meaning behind his words clicked, and you laughed, rolling your eyes. “It’s fine, Benny. It’s an outdated tradition anyway, and it takes time away from other things li-”

He blew a breath out through his lips, cutting you off with an exaggerated wave of his hand. “No, but it's…” Your eyes widened in amusement as his flitted over your shoulder and brightened as he grinned. What is he doing? You didn’t need to wait long for your answer though, Benny raising one hand and waving to someone behind you. “Hey! Ang! C’mere.” Who is? You turned to see who he was talking to as one of the women in the bridal party - the one who had been partnered with Pope when they’d all walked down the aisle during the ceremony - came towards your table, her own small bouquet in hand. Oh, right, Angela. “Ang, lemme borrow that real quick, okay?” He gestured to her flowers. “Please?’

She leaned down with a huge smile on her face, placing one hand on the back of his chair, and kissed him on the cheek. “Anything for my brand new brother in law!” Dropping her bouquet in his lap, she laughed and clapped her hands. “I’m heading back to the dance floor while there’s still time, and when you’re done here I better see you out there twirling the shit out of my sister, Miller!” Laughing, she shimmied her way out towards the group of people on the floor, Benny calling a ‘Yes ma’am!’ after her.

“Benny,” you shook your head as he picked up the bundle of daisies and dahlias in his lap and glanced down at it. “What are you-” But you knew what he was doing the second you saw the mischievous quirk of his lips. Before you could get the final word of your question out, he sprung into action, flinging the bouquet at you. “What?!” You sputtered, hands flying out instinctively to catch what he’d thrown at you. “Why are you-”

He just drummed his hands on the table top, some of the amber liquid in his glass almost sloshing up over the rim.. “See? I fuckin’ told you!”

Closing your eyes, you let out a chuckle and hid your face behind the blossoms. “Benny…” You groaned, the sound devolving into a laugh. “You-”

“What’s goin’ on over here, hmm?” Just then you felt Frankie’s solid presence behind you, one arm coming around your chair to set your drink on the table and press a kiss near your temple. Lowering the flowers to your lap, you closed your eyes as he let his lips linger long enough for you to feel him smile before he drew them away. Hi.

“What’s goin’ on, ‘Fish,” Benny stood and faked a punch at Frankie’s bicep, opening his fist and letting it clap over the older man’s shoulder instead. “Is that your girl here just caught the flowers, so you know what that means.” Without waiting for a response, he waggled his eyebrows and bent down to retrieve his glass. “Now if you two will excuse me, I need to go find my wife.”

“Yeah, you go do that, Benjamin,” Frankie muttered, shaking his head and bringing one hand up to swipe downwards over his mouth, the corners of it twitching behind his palm. Benny shot you another wink before turning towards where Alana was dancing with Angela, Will, Pope and Yovanna. “Can’t help himself, can he?” He spoke under his breath, dropping his hand.

“You know Benny.” You shrugged, laughing as you crossed one leg over the other. The hem of your dress slid up as you shifted your position, exposing more of your knee and thigh. Though the autumn breeze that swept through the night was cool enough to cause a quick chill, all you felt was fire when his eyes fell to your lap. Oh. He… fuck.

The pink tip of Frankie’s tongue slid between the seam of his lips to wet them, and then he was leaning down to reach for the bundle of blossoms still sitting in your lap. “So you caught these, huh?” His fingers skated intentionally over the thin mesh of your stockings, knuckles pressing down against your knee as he wrapped his grip around the stems of the flowers.

It was all you could do not to openly moan at the look in his eyes and the presence of his large hand curled around the bouquet resting atop your legs. Swallowing hard, you blinked and nodded. “Mmhmm.” You took a breath that made your whole chest heave as he lifted the flowers away, keeping his eyes on the sliver of your upper leg that he’d just uncovered. “Sure did.” Benny threw them at me, but same difference.

Flipping the bouquet onto the table, he brought his now empty hand back to your lap and curved it around your top leg. “Well, I think that’s our cue then.”

Oh, is it? Your heart slammed to a stop as he used his grip to uncross your legs, but it sped up again as his fingers shifted from your thigh to your hand. He reached down for the other one and pulled you to your feet, his own planted so close to you that when you stood you were nearly chest to chest. He’d discarded his jacket earlier - it hung on the back of his chair instead of across his shoulders - and his sleeves had been uncuffed and rolled to the elbow, so when his arms went around you, you could easily feel the warmth of his body through the white button down he wore. Head swimming and pulse thrumming, you leaned into his hold and suddenly couldn’t wait to be upstairs. But I thought he said…

“Thought you said one more drink.” Your voice was thin and wispy, your words dissolving into a hum as he ducked his head to kiss behind your ear. Not that I’m complaining. There was music playing, you were sure of it, but you couldn’t hear it over the thoughts racing through your head. “You just-” You gasped as his tongue swept over your skin. Oh, shit. You swallowed. “You just stood in line at the bar, and we haven’t said goodnight to-”

You weren’t actually trying to convince him to stay any longer, and he knew it. “We’ll come back down for a drink in the lobby later,” he growled into your neck. “Say goodnight to ‘em then.” You could feel his warm breath on your skin, vibrating in your blood. “They’re not gonna notice we’re gone, trust me.” His facial hair dragged over your throat as he moved his mouth up to nip at your earlobe, teeth catching on the inner ridge of your ear. “Wanna see you in those sexy fucking things you got on.” That’s why I wore them. He doubled down then, lowering his tone even more, his words dripping directly into your soul to shake it. “Wanna feel that lace clamped around my head while I-”

“Fuck, Frankie, let’s…” You panted out a breath, leaning your forehead into his shoulder as he let out a short chuckle. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth he was in motion, gathering up his jacket and handing you your purse. The small black rectangle swung from the strap with the force of his hasty grab, and you had to laugh, teeth biting down into your bottom lip. God, we’re like two horny kids, it’s… Frankie’s wide palm settled firmly on your back then, steady and strong and you let him guide you through the cluster of tables and away from the reception area. It’s crazy how much I want him.

His fingers flexed as he moved his hand around to your hip, and as the door to the hotel lobby slid open, you looked up at him and the heat that had been pooling in your lower belly flooded through your entire body.

Because when he looked down at you, you saw, you felt - you knew - that he wanted you just as much. I’m yours, Frankie.

– – –

Your dress was over your head and on the floor within seconds of stepping into the room. Frankie’s hands worked quickly to bolt the lock before removing your clothing and landing at your waist. A groan rumbled deep in his throat to make a breath catch in yours. Oh, that- Your fists tightened in the material of his shirt as the gravelly sound he made stirred the embers in your belly into flame. Tipping your head back, his name left your lips in a sigh as your eyes clamped shut.

“Finally got you to myself.” His large palms roved up your sides, fingers flexing into your flesh as he leaned in to pin you to the door. Ducking his head so that his lips hovered just over the pulse point on your neck, you felt the vibrations of each syllable as he spoke. “All to myself.”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, hands blindly moving to the buttons on his shirt and undoing the few that were still fastened. You sure do. He mouthed along the slope of your shoulder and then back up your throat, smiling when he felt you swallow. His touch wandered around to your back, climbing up and over the clasp of your bra, and you were emboldened by the sound - and feel - of another of his groans. Tongue flicking out to wet your lips, you challenged him. “What are you gonna do about it, Morales?”

When he lifted his head to lock his eyes with yours, there was no need for him to answer your question with words. Oh fuck. You saw the same dark veil of desire fall over them that had been there from the start - when all you had were late night fucks, no feelings, all fast moves and finding release. But behind that, now you saw something else. Something that both deepened and brightened that darkness currently overtaking his brown eyes. Because now it’s… now we-

Frankie dropped his gaze then, letting it rake all the way down your form as he took half a step back. “Fuck,” he muttered, chest heaving as he took in the view of your body. You felt the way his eyes lingered on the lacy band of your thigh highs for a few seconds, as though he were tracing the patterns and memorizing the way they looked stretched over the muscles of your legs. Hands following the trail that his eyes were blazing, he let them both settle low on your hips, thumbs swiping over the thin material of your underwear and into the crease where your thigh met your pelvis. “Look at you.”

His eyes snapped back up to yours then, and there it was - desire, but not just to take. Not just to have you in his hands and take you into his bed, but to take you apart, peel pleasure from you in spirals. You sucked in a breath, letting it out in a quick exhale that you were sure he felt fan across his lips and cheek. He didn’t have to answer your question with words, but he did anyway.

“You wanna know what I’m gonna do about it?” His voice was deep and raspy as he asked, and it was all you could do to nod in response. He pressed his thumbs more firmly into the space they occupied, the tip of his tongue flicking out to dampen his lips. “Gonna make you forget all about going back downstairs for that drink.”

You were going to say something teasing or clever. Something witty or flirty. But that was before the corner of Frankie’s mouth pulled up in a lopsided grin that teemed with mischief. That was before his hands coasted over your curves as he lowered himself to his knees in front of you, chin tilted up so he could appreciate you from a new angle. When he looks at me like that it's… A thin whimper broke loose from your lips, your breathing starting to become quicker and more shallow as you let him overwhelm you. And he hasn’t even done anything yet. Fuck. Instead of anything like what you were planning on saying, you opted for his name as you combed your fingernails through his hair.

“Yeah?” He let his right hand wander to the back of your left thigh, fingertips running over the textured lace there. You shook your head. “What drink?”

He let out a short huff of laughter, and then you gasped as his right hand plunged downwards between the elastic and your skin, the sheer fabric stretching over his knuckles as he gripped your flesh. “These are…” His other palm slid down the outside of your right leg, his eyes following his own movement. They widened, a quiet curse falling from his lips as he wrapped his fingers around your calf, and then he lifted his gaze back up to find yours. “I like these.” Leaning forward, he laid his lips to the skin of that thigh, just above the edge of the band holding the barely-there garment up. You sighed at the warm drag of his mouth along the lace. “Like you in these.”

He turned his face to give the same attention to your opposite thigh, the hair on his head brushing the skin he’d just lavished with his tongue and lips, the hair on his cheek and chin tickling your other leg as he kissed you there as well. That feels… Your eyes fell shut as your hand found its way into his curls, fingers weaving between them, and you let out a hum. “Thought you might, Frankie.” You opened your eyes again, lids heavy as you looked down at him. He tilted his head back to rest his chin on your kneecap. “Hoped you would.”

“Did you?” He squeezed you gently as he asked, both hands kneading into your muscle. You responded with a whispered yes. “Well, as usual,” he mumbled, pausing to place another kiss to the inside of your left thigh, the sensation causing you to let out a breathless sigh, “you were right.” You shivered as you felt the light scrape of his teeth over the skin he’d just been focused on. “Driving me fuckin’ crazy all night knowing you had these on under that dress and-” You nearly went boneless as he pressed his forehead and nose to the front of your right thigh, groaning into your skin. “And that you put ‘em on for me.”

“I did.” You practically panted out the words as your hands fell to his shoulders. Why is he still wearing clothes? “Did it in the car when I got here. Put ‘em on so you could take them off me, Frankie.”

“Oh, I’m gonna. Wanna take everything off you.” His eyes flicked up to the matching black lingerie set that you wore, following the scalloped edges that hugged the swell of your breasts. “Just not yet.”

He nuzzled higher up towards the apex of your thighs, his hot breath setting you ablaze as you suddenly realized - at the same time he did - that you were already soaked at just the hint of what was to come. Oh, fuck.

The starving sound in his voice as he said your name cracked you open and turned everything inside of you to molten liquid.

Oh, fuck, I… he- His eyes flashed and then fell shut as his tongue pressed flat against the material of your underwear, and you couldn’t contain your moan if your life depended on it. And he wants to hear it. He swore under his breath, the string of half coherent curses vibrating through the damp material and sending sparks into your bloodstream.

“Gonna start with these, though.” His tongue teased the edge of them, pushing beneath the elastic as he reached for the waistband with both hands. Teeth catching on the hem, he grinned and they snapped back against your skin. You inhaled sharply in a hiss as his fingers hooked in the band, the sparks in your veins bursting in tingling explosions. Wait! He needs to… he’s still dressed and - “They’re in my way. Wanna make you come on my tongue and-”

“Fuck, Frankie, wa- wait.” You gripped his shoulders, swallowing hard as your heart thundered and your head spun. Wetting your lips, you blinked down at him and took a few deep breaths.

Hands stilling where he touched you, he leaned back to look up, eyes connecting instantly with yours. “You okay? What’s-”

Before the crease between his brows could fully deepen, you shook your head and gave him a dizzy smile. “I’m fine.” Way more than fine. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. “Feeling kind of underdressed though.” Pulling at the wrinkled fabric of his shirt, you raised one eyebrow. “C’mon, Frankie, take this off. I want to… need to touch you.” Your voice warbled in your throat as he leaned forward to brush a kiss right below your navel, that molten heat you felt before responding to his lips by pooling in that spot.

You whimpered, imagining him trying to lick at that heat with his tongue. He released a throaty sigh and though you couldn’t be sure, you had a feeling he was imagining the same thing.

You didn’t have to ask him twice to take his shirt off, and you knew it was because he was just as eager to feel your hands on his skin as you were to put them there. He stood at your urging, letting you help him with the few remaining buttons, and then your hands were slipping under the open sides of his shirt as his found their home near your hips. Moving your palms over his chest and up towards his shoulders, you shucked the dress shirt down onto his biceps, your touch roving around to his back. As soon as his torso was bared he pulled you flush to his body, and then it was your turn to trail your lips in places that made him hum and groan. Because I’ve been waiting all night for this, too.

As the thought crossed your mind Frankie’s hips rolled into yours, and the feel of him - hard and thick and making his pants work to contain him - pulled another sound from you, this one grittier, needier, as you nipped at his jaw. Fuck, I’ve never… Your hands went back to the crooks of his elbows, where the sleeves of his shirt still hung on his frame, and you pushed them down his forearms. Never wanted anyone as much as I want this man.

“Easy, killer.” He teased, using one hand to free the other from his sleeves and then switching so that his shirt finally dropped to the floor. Your fingers had flown to the zipper on his pants, fumbling with the button there by the time he encircled your wrists, his grip strong but gentle as he stroked your pulse point with his thumb. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He eased your hands away from his fly, leaving it open as he used his hold on you to lead you fully into the room. After a few steps, he turned you so that you were in front of him, and then instead of pulling, he lightly pushed you until you felt the edge of the mattress behind your legs. “And neither are you.”

He pushed a little more firmly, just enough to make you tip backwards onto the bed, a small string of laughter spilling from you as the mattress bounced beneath your body. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watched as Frankie finished what you’d started with his pants. They fell around his ankles and then he stepped out of them, his grin growing wolfish as he closed the distance to kneel at the foot of the bed.

“Now -” His palms slid up the sides of your thighs so that his fingers could find the band of your underwear again. “Think we were right… about…” Curling his digits, he tugged the material to pull it down, exposing your damp skin to the cool air of the hotel room and making you suck in a breath. “Here.”

The last word came as his mouth descended on you, and within minutes you were ready to give him what he said he wanted before he took your tights off, your release slicking his chin and lips as one of your heels pressed into the shoulder blade that it was thrown over. When he finally lifted his head to look up at you, you panted out his name, breathless already. But I want more, I want-

You wanted to feel him fill you, stretch you, needed him deeper than his tongue could delve. You wanted to watch the way his throat tightened as you clenched around him, wanted to see the way bliss blew the blackness in the center of his eyes outward towards the edges. You wanted to feel his muscles work against and with your own before they went slack and soft, needed the contrast of climax and the caresses that would follow.

You wanted to fuck and then fall asleep in the arms of the man you loved with every cell in your being as the lazy sound of waves rolling up onto the sand floated through the balcony door.

But before you could reach for him to coax him up towards you, he used the shoulder that was still under your leg to scoot you higher up on the bed. “M’not done with you yet.” One eyebrow pitched into an arch as he shook his head. “Not even close.” Shrugging your thigh down into the crook of his arm, he turned his face to press his lips - still partially coated in you - to your skin. “Gotta take these off, remember?” Moving his head and angling his chin, he opened his mouth and bit the lacey edge of your stockings. “S’why you put them on, right?”

It sure fucking is. Frankie. All you could do was nod.

Keeping the lace between his teeth, Frankie began to move slowly towards your ankle, peeling the fabric down over your knee. He paused there, lips grazing your skin, the bottom one obscured by the nylon that was stretched over it making the upper one feel warmer and softer. Oh, fuck. You let out a hum that you knew he heard, his eyes lifting from what he was doing to find yours as his hands continued to roam - one over your thigh, the other dragging down over your abdomen.

“You like that?” His voice was a low, gritty rasp, the heat from his breath getting trapped between the sheer fabric and your skin, spreading down your shin.

“Yeah,” you panted. “Feels good, Frankie.”

That was an understatement. It felt like a goddamned blessing to know that this man wanted nothing more than to be undressing you with his teeth. That the only place he wanted to be in that moment - and he could be anywhere in the entire world - was right between your legs, tangled up in your limbs. It made you feel invincible and indestructible to know that he’d chosen you, that you had given your whole self to him and he’d accepted every piece of you, that he’d placed those pieces in his heart. It felt like pure passion and trust to love and be loved by Frankie Morales, especially when this was how he chose to show you.

I fucking love him so much.

He finally released his bite, letting go of the stocking which was bunched near your ankle, and then slipped two fingers between it and your skin to yank it off of your foot. “Gonna take the other one off, too.”

At that, you groaned, the sound turning into a desperate whine. “No, Frankie, don’t… don’t tease. Need to… need, fuck, Frankie, I can’t wait any-”

His chuckle was dark and deep and breathless. “Neither can I.” At that, he moved up the bed, reaching for a small box on the nightstand next to his wallet that you hadn’t noticed earlier - condoms, you realized in a haze as he tore open the package and deftly rolled the rubber over his length - and then he placed his lips next to your ear. “Gonna take the other one off… after.”

– – –

It was late morning by the time the two of you made it back down to the lobby, the hotel staff busily tending to the continental breakfast buffet that you could see Pope, Yovanna, Will and a few of the girls from the bridal party partaking in, and as you let Frankie lead you over towards them, his hand solidly placed on the small of your back as Pope’s voice carried across the space ribbing the two of you with “Look what the cat dragged in!”, you could only think of two things - one, that Frankie had been right about the two of you not making it back for a goodnight drink, and two, that the pair of stockings now laying ruined on the floor of your room had been the best fashion choice you’d ever made in your life.

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tags: @something-tofightfor @paracosmenthusiast @cannedsoupsucks @dihra-vesa @disgruntledspacedad @littlemisspascal @alraedesigns @mishasminion360 @stevie75 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @amb11 @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @swtaura @thescarletfang @trickstersp8 @princessxkenobi @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns @competentpotato

#frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x female reader #pedrostories #frankie morales fic #triple frontier fic #frankie catfish morales #santiago pope garcia #benny miller #will miller #kinktober but make it january #whoops #this is a smut #but with feelings #anywho ENJOY.

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neverwanttofallasleep · 10 months

Text

I Never Want To Fall Asleep - Chapter 3

Word count: 4,519

For pairings, warnings, and disclaimer - see Masterpost

Saturday, December 17th, 2022

London, England

“Freddie, can you hand that empty rack down?”

He passes the clothing rack to you from the back of the truck, before lowering the lift and jumping down himself.

“Thanks!” You call over your shoulder as you begin to wheel the rack toward the loading bay of the venue.

Almost all the gear has been set up now. The crew have been here since 11am, while you got to work from your hotel room. Your trunks of mended, cleaned and ironed outfits are the last thing to be brought in by the roadies.

The backstage area of this venue is much bigger than the last few you’ve been to. Usually, you stow all the trunks in the green room and just unpack what’s needed for each member of the band. Tonight, though, you have the luxury of setting up each trunk in the respective dressing room, with all the selected outfits for this tour available to each boy to choose from. Sam and Josh are sharing one room, Jake and Danny in the other.

The selections they’ve made for this tour are incredible, tailored pieces of black, white and shades of gold, all adorned with sparkly embroidery, rhinestones and sequins. You love seeing them all dressed up together, truly a vision come to life, and you feel so prideful that you’re the one that gets to look after these incredible garments while they’re on the road.

You’d spent your morning meticulously steaming Josh’s sheer, floaty golden robe, among other things, as per his requests. They all usually have a vision for each night, swapping out the pieces to give themselves a fresh yet cohesive look for each city.

Josh is partial to his jumpsuits, he has 13 with him on this tour. They suit his personality so perfectly, heightening that spunk and flair he naturally exudes. Your favourite is his gold velvet one, covered in embroidered white roses.

Sammy wears suits, no shirt underneath, always high-waisted trousers with hip-length jackets, and always with his signature pleated wing under the left arm. This tour he’d been rocking the sword appliqué on all his pieces.

“It’s my new thing!” He’d told you.

Danny has his own style, same-same but different from the rest of the band. Like Josh, he loves the sparkles and capes, but his outfits have to be extra-functional for drumming, so he usually wears a seperate bejewelled top and short cape with his classic, pleated satin pants.

Jake’s outfits are always your favourite. Like Sam, he wears suits, but with tighter trousers and cropped jackets. The silhouette reminds you of a military uniform, like he’s preparing for battle before he takes the stage. You love the many black suits he wears, all similar with unique gold embellishments, but your favourite is his white suit. Unlike his others, this one has lapels, and is covered in incredibly detailed gold archery motifs. When you first saw him in it, you’d felt your heart skip a beat. You’d tried to keep your awe to yourself, not wanting to inflate his ego further, but you had to compliment him. He’d looked phenomenal.

“This one looks the best on you.” You’d tried to sound casual, with a mouth full of sewing pins, as you marked the alterations on his shoulder.

He’d raised an eyebrow at you. “Huh. You think so?”

You nodded.

He hummed. “I’ll have to remember that.”

You’d smiled at that, your cheeks reddening.

He’s yet to wear it for a show, but you imagine he’s saving it up for a special one, perhaps when you return to the States. You always keep all their options available for them, as some people (Josh) like to change their mind a few times before settling on a look.

You eye the white suit as you open up his trunk, beginning to unload their selections for this evening’s show. You consult the list you’ve been emailed, hanging Jake’s rose suit and Danny’s black satin trousers and silver vest onto the rack you brought with you, triple checking for any loose threads.

It’s nearing 5pm, and you know the boys will be done with soundcheck soon. According to your itinerary, doors tonight open at 6.30. You’re keen to have everything set up before they come down, not eager to run into Jake after your strange interaction last night.

Danny and Jake’s bags are already stowed in the corner of the room, with an opened bottle of Jack Daniels on the dressing table. You sigh. The excessive drinking just proves to you that Jake can’t possibly be as unaffected by your situation as he’s putting on.

You’ve been replaying last night in your head all day, unsure what to make of it. He was obviously drunk, you knew that. But after the awful non-interactions you’d had earlier in the day, his desperation for you to stay with him last night was making your head spin. You want to confront him about it, but you decide that now isn’t the time. One last show, and you’ll be heading home tomorrow.

Once you’re satisfied with the set up, you head over to Sam and Josh’s dressing room. As you reach the door at the corner of the hallway, all painted black bricks and fluorescent lighting, you hear footsteps coming from the other direction. You poke your head around, and when you see Danny’s smiling face moving toward you, you step out fully.

“Hey, Y/N!” He gives you a genuine grin. “I feel like I haven’t seen you since we left Manchester! Busy day yesterday?” He gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

If anyone can catch onto your mood without you having to say a word, it’s Danny. He can just read people like that.

You return the smile, realising he’s right. You’d been so determined to coop yourself up to avoid Jake, you’d missed out on seeing the rest of your friends.

“Sorry, Dan. I had so much work to do - had to fix your cape! Missed you though. How was your first night in London?”

“Fucking awesome.” He chuckles. “A few of the gang went a bit too hard, too early, though. By 1am it was only Josh, Jules, Meghan and I left.” He shakes his head. “How did Jake manage this morning? He and Sam were the first to bail.”

You give a little smile. “Not sure, I wasn’t with him this morning.”

Danny raises an eyebrow. “Really? Surprised to hear it, if I’m honest. He wouldn’t shut up about you last night. Thought you might’ve finally broken your rule and done the deed.” He smirks.

You chew your lip and shake your head. “No, nothing like that. I saw him when he got in, though, he was in pretty rough shape.” You give him a rueful smile.

Danny is the only member of the band that you’ve really talked to about your friendship with Jake. Although he doesn’t explicitly know of your feelings, you imagine he has an inkling as to why you won’t cross that line.

As Danny’s about to reply, the other three boys emerge from the stairs at the end of the corridor, presumably making their way back from soundcheck.

Jake glances up and sees you, immediately looking back to the floor.

He’s embarrassed.

Well, at least that solidifies your theory that he wouldn’t have said any of it if he was sober.

Sam and Josh greet you enthusiastically, Jake giving a small nod.

You see Danny’s eyes flick between you and Jake.

“How’s the set up going, Y/N?” Josh places his hand on your shoulder. “Need us to do anything?”

You’re thankful for Josh. “Nah, I’m almost done. Jake and Danny’s is all good to go, I’m just heading in here now to unpack your trunks.”

He nods. “Easy. We can stay out of your way. We’ll just go hang out down the hall ‘til you’re ready for us.”

“Thanks, Josh.”

“Come join us for a drink when you’re done?” Sammy chimes in.

You glance at Jake, who’s still staring into space, anywhere but you.

“I’m alright. I’m going to meet Jules out in the gardens, she’s bringing us some dinner.”

Sam looks disappointed. “You gotta come in for a pre-show shot then, both of you. It’s the last night of Europe, can’t have you missin’ out.”

You sigh, glancing to Jake and back to Sam. “I’ll be there. Can’t let you go out on stage without a once over. Gotta check you for boogers.”

Danny and Josh laugh.

Sammy frowns. “I’m proudly booger-free, I’ll have you know.” He retorts.

You grin. “I’ll believe it when I see it, Samuel.”

The four of you giggle, and you notice Jake getting restless.

“Alright, gotta get back to work. See you in a bit!”

You shuffle around Sam and slide into the second dressing room.

“You want the last bite?” Julie waves her pastry at you.

You shake your head. “I’m good. The sandwich filled me up. Thanks, though. Just not a huge appetite today.” You take a swig of your now-cold coffee.

She hums. “I noticed. What’s on your mind, girl?”

You consider for a moment. If you can tell anyone what’s been going on, it’s Jules. She’s your colleague and your friend, and she doesn’t have any loyalty to the band. You feel the need to share what’s been filling your mind these past 48 hours, just to unload some of the stress.

When you look up from tracing circles on the lid of your cup, you find her empathetic eyes assessing you. “Jake and I had a fight.”

“Oh, babe. What the fuck happened?”

You feel your eyes welling already. “That’s the thing. I don’t even really know.”

She sips her coffee. “How did it come about?”

You tell her the story of the other night, explaining your worries about the friendship becoming too close, and your admission. You tell her how he acted yesterday, and even how he was earlier by the dressing rooms. Julie knows why you keep things platonic with Jake, so she gets it.

Once you’ve finished, she just sighs.

“So, you haven’t spoken since Manchester?”

You groan. “I think that was his plan, if I’m honest. But I caught him last night, blackout drunk and struggling to get into his room. He asked for my help, and he just seemed, well, normal.”

“Fuck. And did you? Help him, I mean?” She says through the last bite of her croissant.

“Yeah, I helped him inside and take off his shoes and stuff. Got him some water. He kept asking me to stay with him. Told me I was beautiful.” The tears are coming now.

Jules puts her hand over yours. “Babe, I get it. That would be fucking hard to hear. Especially after what you told him. I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve that shit.” She frowns. “That boy needs to keep his dick in his pants. He’s been leading you on, even if he doesn’t realise it.”

You hear the truth in her words, but the worst part is, all you can think is how you wish things could go back to how they were before. You’d take him leading you on over this any day.

You choke out a little sob. “I know that. You’re right. I just, I dunno. I just miss him.”

Jules takes both your hands in hers now. “I know you do, babe. And if that fucker has any sense, which I think he does, he’ll get his shit together and apologise.” She sighs. “I can’t tell you where to go from here, because I know it’ll be hard either way. But if you’re really prepared to just have a friendship with him, then I’m sure you guys will work it out. Fuck, he’d be an idiot not to.”

You laugh a little through the tears, throwing your arms around your friend.

“Thank you, Jules. I love you. I’m sorry to drag you into all this, but I’m so glad I have you.”

She laughs. “Don’t worry about me, girl. I fucking live for the drama. And I’ll always be here for you.”

“Right back at you.”

“I love you, too, Y/N. Just take care of yourself. Danny was right, you know. Jake couldn’t stop talking about you last night. Just don’t let him hurt you.”

You pull back and nod, sniffling.

“I’ll try.”

At about 7, after a brief crew meeting, you and Jules head back down to the dressing rooms. It’s time for her to start on Josh’s makeup, and you figure that his dressing room is the safest hiding place for you right now. At least Sam’s constant babbling and Josh’s telling him off will keep you entertained for an hour or so.

Sam mixes you a drink, some tequila and soda from their rider, and sits with you on the couch.

“Where’s Lennon?” You question. You realise you haven’t seen or spoken to her since breakfast this morning.

“She’s watching from GA tonight. Got some friends coming along. They have passes so I’m sure they’ll be back here after the show.”

“Oh, that’ll be nice for her. Anyone you know?”

“Yeah, a friend of hers from school and his partner who’s from here. We met up with them at the pub last night.”

You smile. “Ah, yes. The infamous pub. I hear you didn’t make it past 11, Sammy boy.”

“Neither did Jake!” He says defensively.

You roll your eyes.

He grimaces. “I was still hungover, alright? Plus, I needed my beauty sleep. I don’t get to just slap on some concealer and rhinestones to hide my eye-bags like some of us do.” He gestures to Josh.

Josh chucks a brush at him. “Hey, don’t come at me. It’s my war paint. I need it to focus.”

“It’s alright, brother. Not all the Kiszkas could be blessed with natural beauty. There had to be one dud.”

Josh throws another brush and Jules scolds him.

“Sit still, Josh, or you’ll end up looking worse than you fucking started.”

Sam chuckles.

When she’s done with Josh and given Sammy some shimmer, Julie leaves to go and sort out Danny, and you hang back to fuss over Josh and Sam.

With about 15 minutes till their set starts, Julie, Danny and Jake make it back into Sam and Josh’s dressing room.

When you see Jake, your breath catches.

He’s wearing the white suit, and he looks radiant. Looks like Jules has even talked him into a little eyeliner. You see him peek a glance at you before quickly looking away.

Why tonight, Jake?

Surely he had to know that would mean something to you. Did it mean something to him, too?

Craig and couple of the techs join you all too, including Freddie, and you all stand in a circle while Josh and Sam hand out shots of tequila.

You lean over to Jules and Freddie. “After this tour, I’m never drinking tequila again.”

They giggle. “Fuckin’ amen to that, sister.”

Josh clears his throat, and begins his pre-show toast. “Well, we’ve done it, folks. We’re officially on the last European show of this Dreams In Gold circus. I’d like to thank our fabulous team for working so hard for us these past few months. We know it’s been gruelling, but you’ve all done a stellar job at getting us places on time, making us sound and look beautiful,” he gives you and Julie a wink, “and keeping us from murdering each other. If I don’t see you, I hope you all have a wonderful holidays, may we reunite Stateside in the new year! Bajabule!”

“Bajabule!” You all cheer and toast your shots.

Across the circle, Jake makes eye contact with you, raising his shot glass towards yours.

You give him a meek smile, unsure how to respond.

You turn back to Julie and grin, downing your drink, as you hear a chorus of groans and coughs around you from the burning liquor.

Freddie gets a call through his comms.

“Alright boys, time to hit side stage.”

They all file out of the dressing room. You hang back to tidy up a little, Josh and Sammy having left discarded items of clothing all over the floor and couch. You pick up Sam’s underwear, grimacing as you toss them into the drawer of his trunk.

As you turn to walk out, you see Jake lingering in the doorway, looking at you.

“What are you doing? You’re gonna be late.” You say quietly.

He nods.

He goes to turn, and then stops, his eyes meeting yours again. “Like the suit?”

You sigh. “Yeah, Jake. I do.”

He smiles to himself and makes his way up to the stage.

The set is electric, you can feel the buzz of the crowd from backstage. The boys are really giving it their all for this last show abroad.

You watch most of it, unable to peel your eyes away from Jake in that suit.

Your favourite suit.

And he knew it.

You figure this is his form of an olive branch, but you mentally curse him for not choosing a less romantic gesture. It was sweet of him to think of you in that way, knowing that this was your passion, and this would be the most meaningful way he could show you he cared. You just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.

He was always gorgeous, but this suit… it just made him angelic. You had a hard time keeping your eyes off him on your best day, but tonight, he was magnetic.

After shedding a tear during ‘Broken Bells’, Jules gripping your hand, you decide now is as good a time as any to start the pack up. If you weren’t waiting for them side stage, you hoped the boys and crew would just bring their stuff back to the dressing rooms. You just couldn’t be there right now. You didn’t want to see him when he stepped off stage, glistening with sweat and radiating with adrenaline. It would be too much. It was already too much.

Julie follows you, and you both solemnly keep to your devices as you rehang Jake’s rose suit into his trunk, quietly cursing him again. Julie packs up the pieces of her kit she’s left in each room, wiping her brushes, and leaving some makeup wipes by the mirrors for the boys when they return. You fold their street clothes and leave them in neat piles in their trunks, trying to be as prepared as possible. Julie helps you disassemble the now-empty racks, ready to be stowed back on the truck.

When you’re both happy with the state of the rooms, you steal two beers from Josh and Sam’s rider and head out to the loading dock for a cigarette, waiting for the chaos to ensue.

Pack down goes fast enough and pretty smoothly. You manage to successfully avoid Jake, finding his suit already hung up in his trunk and his street clothes gone when you to go close them up. Every time you and Jules cross paths, she gives you a sweet look or squeezes your arm gently. You’re so grateful for your friend, and so glad you confided in her. You’d thought about talking to Lennon, but really, you aren’t that close. Plus, she’s Sammy’s girlfriend, so you really don’t know where she’d stand. You make a mental note to text her later, as you haven’t seen her during the chaos. You figure she’s with the band, celebrating somewhere.

After everything is securely back on the truck and you’ve reported your checklist to Craig, you board the mini-bus, ready to head to your hotel room and crash. Jules sits beside you and rests her head on your shoulder. Truthfully, you’re beat. It’s been an exhausting few days, both mentally and physically. You’re grateful for the late start tomorrow, your flight out of Heathrow not until 3pm. You plan to sleep until the last possible minute.

When you finally get back to your room, you strip off your coat, crew shirt and black pants, tossing them in a pile in the corner for you to deal with tomorrow. You’re too exhausted to think about having a shower, and you mentally thank yourself for choosing not to wear makeup on show nights. You throw on a sleep shirt, braid your hair, brush your teeth as thoroughly as you can manage, and flick off the lights, eagerly anticipating the warm bed.

Once you’re bundled up under the covers, you shoot Lennon a message, wishing her a good night, letting her know you’ll catch up with her at some point tomorrow before you leave. You recall Sam mentioning they were staying in London for a few extra days, so you’d have to find her for a coffee before you head to the airport.

You’re elated about not having to set an alarm. You put some music on and switch off the lamp, quickly falling into a deep sleep.

You’re awoken by your phone ringing. You have no idea what time it is, but it’s definitely still dark outside. You’d put your phone on do not disturb, so it must be one of your emergency contacts. You groan and roll over, fishing by the pillow for your cell. When you finally locate it, you squint at the bright light, seeing Jake’s name flashing on the screen. 3.26am. You answer.

“Hello?” Your voice is thick with sleep.

“Can you open your door? I’m outside.”

You flick on the lamp. “What? Why?”

You hear Jake sigh through the phone. “I need to talk to you, Y/N. Can you please come to the door?”

“Okay. Hold on.” You hang up and roll out of bed, pulling down your t-shirt from where it’s ridden up over your belly. You tuck your loose hair behind your ears, and open the door.

Jake is standing there, hands in his pockets, still wearing his clothes from earlier today.

“What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk. Please let me in.”

You’re annoyed that he’s chosen to do this right now. “Does it have to be at 3.30 in the morning? Can’t we do this tomorrow?”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. I’ve already left it too long. I need to say this now.”

He’s definitely had a drink, but he’s not drunk like you imagined him to be. Actually, he seems quite lucid. You take a step back and gesture inside. He steps past you, walks to the centre of the room and turns back to face you. You shut the door and look at him, unsure how to proceed, so you don’t. You wait for him to speak.

He looks nervous. He runs his hand through his hair, pacing the carpet, staring at the floor.

“Look, I, uh, I'm really sorry. I really fucked up the other night. I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I was cruel and you didn’t deserve that.”

You let out the breath you’ve been holding. “Okay. Thanks for saying that.”

“I really mean it. It wasn’t fair of me to put it all back on you. I didn’t know that’s how you felt, and I reacted poorly. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You walk over and sit on the foot of the bed. “I’m sorry too, Jake.” He looks down at you with those soft, brown eyes. “It wasn’t fair of me to say that, knowing your situation. There was a better way of handling it. I’m sorry I put you in that position.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t need to be sorry. I want you to be able to be honest with me.” He sits down next to you. “You mean a lot to me, y’know, and these past couple days have been really shitty. I’ve missed you so much. I didn’t want to go home without explaining myself to you.”

“I appreciate that, Jake. I missed you too.”

He hums.

You pat the back of his hand where it’s gripping the edge of the bed. “Can we just go back to how we were before?”

He looks directly into your eyes, flipping his hand up to thread his fingers through yours.

He brings his other hand up to your chin, his index finger tilting your head up lightly toward his.

You can feel your heart hammering.

His gaze flicks to your mouth, then back to your eyes.

He leans in, ghosting his lips ever so softly over yours.

You lean into it for a moment. You’ve spent so long wondering what this would feel like.

It’s fireworks.

After a few seconds, you pull away.

“What are you doing?”

He frowns. “Isn’t this what you wanted? I know it’s complicated. You know I can’t be with you. But I need you in my life, Y/N. So if you want this, you know,” he gestures to himself, “I want it too.”

“Want what? To sleep with you?” You pull back further, so none of you is touching him.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I guess so? God, it sounds so crass when you say it like that. I just mean, you know what I can offer you. This is it. And I want you around. So let me give this to you.”

You sigh, running all this over in your head. You think back to what Jules said.

“No, Jake. I don’t want sex. I want to be friends, like we were before. If you want that.”

“What about what you told me the other night? This not being just friendship to you?”

“It is. You said so yourself. We’re close, and we like each other’s company. I want you in my life too. It’s just friendship.”

He sighs and drops his hands into his lap. You wish you knew what he was thinking.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I can’t stand not being around you. I need you, Y/N.”

“I need you too, Jake.” You rest your forehead on his shoulder. “Thanks for wearing my suit tonight.”

He hums. “I just wanted you to see me how I see you. When we ran into each other in the elevator yesterday, and you had my sweatshirt on, y’know…” He sighs. “I can’t explain it. It just made me happy.”

Your heart flutters.

“Can I, uh, can I sleep in here?” He puts his hand on your thigh. “I meant what I said, I don’t sleep the same without you.”

You giggle. “Of course you can. This bed is huge.”

He grins. “Good.”

You scoot back up the bed as he kicks off his shoes and shucks off his jeans, unbuttoning the bottom few buttons of his navy shirt and letting it fall to the floor.

“Alright. Move over, bed hog.”

You giggle and scoot over to your side as he climbs in.

You both get comfortable and you reach up to switch off the light.

His hand finds yours under the covers.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Jake.”

“Will you come home with me for Christmas?”

Chapter 4

@sinarainbows

Message me if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

#sam kiszka #jake gvf #jake kiszka x reader #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #danny wagner

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artheresy · 5 months

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Part One (Astral Express

Random post ideas I got, but I'm just listing my opinions on aspects of the HSR designs, including things I may dislike or would at least change about certain playable HSR design, because I am currently planning some of my own designs/redesigns to use for future art

Disclaimer!! I am not a professional character designer, I am not saying any of my ideas for them are objectively better, and I am not bashing any of these designs. I actually like most if not literally all of the playable designs so far! This is just my lil opinions of how I would change them

The List part 1:

Stelle: I actually like the turquoise band around her thigh, I just don't like how they didn't take the opportunity to sprinkle in some more of that color into her design. She had a lot of little details in her outfit, especially the back of her coat, so there's a lot of places where a few splashes of turquoise could be added whether in those little details or in some of her other adornments just so that the band stands out less . I think I would change more than just that ofc, but that's one of the things about her that stood out the most to me. Also honestly? Maybe I would scale down the sheer amount of detail she has on her back (which as someone who has tried to draw her from the back view o h my g o d), and add some more detail on her sides like her arms and her legs maybe? I dunno, I think her design is really really nice, but there are places the amount of details could be more evenly spread to.

March 7th: While I don't mind her design that is especially center around her top half, March definitely has a clutter design particularly around her waist when you look at her full body in detail. Clutter that manages to mix in some odd color choices too/ I'd probably clean it up, or better place the little bits of clutter to feel like it matches more and change up the colors in order to at least go with the rest of her outfit. Like the gold makes sense, not only with her details of golden buttons throughout her design but also the golden ticket she holds showing she is passenger of the Astral Express, but why the black fabric? How is it supposed to work in terms of construction with the rest of her outfit, I'd keep her black to only the little accented bands on her thigh and neck rather than anything big on her waist. Why is the thing holding her camera orange, why does she have this random bright green button, why does she have seemingly two different belts?? I think March would have a better sense of what goes together than that. Overall, still an adorable design.

Dan Heng: He is very nicely designed, and I think a lot of his personality comes through in it, way better than any alternative for him. I feel like I can get a better sense of his nature and overall how he feels and who he is in it. The one unfortunate aspect of his design for me though is that it feels a bit... bland? for a lack of better word. Not that he's devoid of details or anything, very nice to see him not having a particularly busy design, but a lot of those meaningful details tend to be pushed to his back or his arms. I would probably bring a few more of the details that can be to the front or maybe add more? It just feels as though there is something lacking in the design, maybe more on a coloration front than construction. Speaking of coloration, I'd likely change the way the details around his waist are colored, all the same hue and yet different shades also getting an ombre? It's a little messy, but not a big issue to be honest. That's just my view of it though, still love his design for how much it really lets his character shine through unlike Another One which I will eventually get into and explain my thoughts on in the Luofu post.

Himeko: Listen, she's beautiful, she's gorgeous. I absolutely adore her and her color palette especially, it's such a nice blend of elements with the gold all mixed in. However, her silhouette is awful like it's so messy, and I really dislike how weighed down she feels. I wish she looked just a bit different, wish her clothes looked a bit lighter. She's a Nameless, she's their navigator, she's the one who repaired the Astral Express herself!! I wish she had more details to reflect all of that, and I already have ideas for how it could be done that would end up alleviating some of the weight placed on her with all of those heavy, layered fabrics. Additionally, I think there's a better way to highlight those elements while still making her look elegant, gorgeous, and ornate. Yeah, I love Himeko, I do like her currently design a lot, but I think more could be done to show off more sides of her. She's the one I probably have the clearest image for so far. Like I can imagine her in a nice set of slacks, a deep brown tone that goes well with her coat, and either on the sides or the front of the bottom, they have slits revealing these ruffles showing through similar to the ruffles of her coat sleeves. They have golden adornments along them, very sleek and fitting her figure well to keep with a very elegant appearance. Perhaps she has suspenders as well, maybe only one side to fit with their habit of asymmetrical designs. All with a nice white blouse or even some kind of button up, buttons popped open and collar folded in a more fashionable style. Even more hammering on the asymmetry, maybe for side where she actually wears her coat, the sleeve is much shorter to not interfere with the jacket's ruffles. I don't know, that's just a little idea of changing up the construction of her outfit that I had, but I'll see how it looks on paper when I draw it.

Welt: Okay listen, I need to look up more about his lore before I can truly say anything about him. Looking at his design, and with what I do know about him, I do adore it. His color palette here with the grey tones making up the majority of it for his upper body with the accents of an almost like cool toned brown and the darker shades of grey and black coming in. It's so nicely balanced, I don't feel like he had too many elements or too many overlapping fabrics that complicate the shape. It's a competent design, and while I think someone with more knowledge on him could find more places to add details, with what I know about him, I do really like the way he looks. If I were to change one thing... I would give him more wrinkles. I know why his physical appearance doesn't match what his true age is, but I still think he deserves a few more wrinkles PLEASE that's the only way I can think to truly elevate him at the moment, give him a few more wrinkles he'd look so good with them. Whenever I see art of people giving him more wrinkles I ascend... Okay well, I can think of something I would do color wise, but I'm still on the fence about it.

I think I'll leave things there for now. I don't have as much to say on these designs in particular. I think generally they're pretty solid, and even with the ones I can think of more changes for like Himeko's, I still greatly adore a lot of elements from it. The Astral Express' base designs definitely aren't the ones I have a lot of gripes with or things to say aside from suggestions for Himeko, we'll get to those eventually (those ones in particular are Serval and DH IL, both for primarily character reasons rather than aesthetic reasons like some other opinions I have.) But yeah, the next post will be for the Stellaron Hunters since I couldn't fit them into this so look out for that!

#sorry again about welt's part being weaker #I really need to redownload honkai and get back into it #but yeah uh #when i get my hands on talking about dh il I will have a lot to say #His standard 4 star design is sm better character wise than his dh il design and I will DIE on that hill #the only way you can take me off of it is with my head on a stick im so serious #and i'll get into why later I promise #it's very very character focused not like aesthetics #bc honestly? love the aesthetics and ornate details of it I like the meaningful things hidden within it #but uh... lots of problems with how dan hengs character doesnt shine through AT ALL in that design esp in one of the most important aspects #like this design connects to a big reveal about dh and his past and how he feels about certain things #and yet the design doesnt convey anything more than the bare minimum and its such wasted potential to me #anyways #enough of that #i will be drawing these eventually #so stayed turned #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr stelle #hsr trailblazer #hsr march 7th #dan heng #hsr welt yang #hsr himeko #jaxie rambles #<- gonna start organizing posts with that tag to more easily find stuff or even to mute it if people want me to shut up XD

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hyunsoolgc · 6 months

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-ˋˏ GALA OUTFIT

SOLSTICE: DARKNESS&LIGHT

waltz of the modern prince

Initially, Hyunsoo had every intention of wearing a simple three-piece suit to the gala. However, being put in contact with a fashion designer with grand ideas did not lend him any space to be as plain as he wanted. Her keen eye for unique pieces results in what he wears that night.

The main concept is hanbok inspired, suiting his taste for the traditional and turned into something more modernized, formal and fashionable. A modern day Joseon era prince. The colors are mainly black with some vague variation of shade and texture. Gold accents bring the outfit together, making it suitably grand despite the overall simplicity of the pieces it adorns.

Starting from inner layers, going out gradually, the outfit will be described below in further detail.

A comfortable white turtleneck suited for winter but light enough to breathe in holds the base, as well as a standard pair of black slacks. A wide belt made of leather and settles around his waist to accentuate it and add balance to the figure. It will be a thicker one that's more sturdy, but delicate in its simplicity. A leather string with traditional black and white beads and golden tipped tassels will hang from it on thin golden ropes. A black jeogori with a white trimmed collar lays loosely over it, and a delicate black and sheer layer with a tight floral texture.

Cloaking his shoulders will be a black durumagi style floor length cloak with golden iridescent accents of a dragon mostly on the back and shoulders to pay homage to the Year of the Dragon that will be coming next year and represent balance. The inside is a silky muted deep earthy purple that fades into a gradient of gold, representing a setting winter sky. A mixture of darkness and light. The cloak is also adorned with subtle shimmering fabric.

As for the other accessories, he will sport a pair of slightly heeled formal boots with a golden accented tip and a pair of light leather gloves to match the material of the nearby belt. There are no additional pieces of jewelry.

His hair is styled neatly, parted to the left with bangs pulled more toward the center of the forehead. There is a soft texture to it; a slight wave that gives the hair body and the silhouette more variation.

( NOTE: There are no truly concise or accurate representations of the outfit originally before generating the images above, but inspiration was derived from the following pictures below and can be pieced together to make an actual proper image of the ensemble. ) Main outfit image created in DALL-E 3. Hair, boots, and gloves are from existing images off Pinterest and of Hyunsoo's faceclaim.

#𝙘𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙯𝙚 ( edit. )#lgc:yearend2023

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late-to-the-fandom · 9 months

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ROY G BIV Tag

Thank you @druidx for the tag, this was a new one for me! I was surprised how many I had, seeing how (intentionally) limited my universe’s colour palate is. I had over 200 uses of the word red or some synonym and exactly one of blue 😂 These are all from Wend in the Shadows.

Red

Denathrius was grinning. His entire face was contorted in an open delight the likes of which Renathal had rarely seen on the Sire’s flawless features. His red eyes wandered to the hovering servant then back to Renathal, grin widening. When he spoke again, his voice was soaked in satisfaction.

Orange - I had an Amber, gold, and bronze but no orange proper so I grabbed one of the others.

"The wardrobe," she said simply. "It's quite lovely, thank you." Her fingers traced the corset's bronze buckles and trailed into the swell of red satin skirts beneath. "Mind you, it did take two dredgers to help fasten me into it, but it’s surprisingly easy to move about in once it's on, and…" She glanced up at Renathal, violet pinpricks glowing on her cheekbones. "It's a perfect fit."

Yellow

Her bright yellow eyes flitted from the Prince to the mortal now loitering at his shoulder. Renathal could tell Nadjia was attempting to look frightened, but her features were too fixed in haughty confidence to pull off the expression well. Her words, however, sent an uncomfortable frisson of alarm down his spine. He was suddenly acutely aware of the growing numbness in his feet and fingers; the Endmire tightening its hold once again. Renathal made a subtle adjustment to his muck-covered coat. He needed to get out of here, now.

Green

The sound Renathal made had more in common with a groan than a laugh, but "Oh, a great many things," was his casual non-answer as he scanned the shelf of dark green tomes. "You might be surprised at how much exists to trouble the mind of those whose primary purpose is the execution of duty. How much must be considered, how much must be avoided. How much is," he extended his arm for a title on a shelf just over his head, "out of reach."

Blue

The theological paradox twisted his mind as the carriage rattled its way across Penance Bridge, his anxious eyes wandering over the approaching silhouettes of the Grand Palisade: tall, stately spires on black brick foundations that sank into a sheer, nearly vertical drop. Just below the bridge, the cliffside was wreathed in mist, the thin, stretched wisps painting the smooth grey stone in shades of unbroken blue.

Indigo - the colour I cannot distinguish from blue? Nope.

Violet

Elisewin trailed away, allowing a vague gesticulation to describe the anima harvesting process her nervous babble could not. Her hand accidentally brushed Renathal's leg, and she jerked it back as if burned. Even in the heavy gloom, Renathal could make out the dark violet splotches blossoming on her high cheekbones. He had an idea what they meant; imagined if he had the mortal blood required to blush his own face would look very much the same.

Tagging: @fluffleforce-mysdrym @maidenwychelm @sesshy380 @omnissian-scribe @vcaudley @residentdormouse @isabellebissonrouthier @rms-writes @frozen-fountain @sarahlizziewrites

Rules: Search your WIP for the colours of the rainbow and post the excerpt.

#tag games #writblr games #renathal x maw walker #a wend in the shadows

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salted-caramel-tea · 1 year

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okay the tierlidt . disclaimer: everything is cropped weird bc the website wouldn’t let me use the portrait crop and made everything square, and i can’t include eventi one so these are the photos that ppl sent to me

details under read more

i’m not going through everyone bc there’s like 60 images on the screen rn so i’m gonna talk about notable things .

THE SUITS

Yes, almost every man is in the same category . it’s a suit . i know that’s the basic of men’s evening wear but it also doesn’t impress me . some men are placed higher bc i feel like they took the basics and did a little something to make it more interesting .

THE SAFE CATEGORY

the safe category kind of stands for it’s not a bad outfit but it’s rather. basic on the scale of outfits seen throughout the night . its a nice choice they look good but its also a safe choice .

POKIMANE

gorgeous . the only thing i have to say is that i wish the bag (? they weren’t allowed bags idk what it is) was the same undertone as the dress . the dress was more yellow while the bag seemed more pinkish in photos . she looked fantastic tho

VALKYRAE

she’s always stunning but that green dress just complimented her so perfectly . the length was perfect the fit was incredible the tailoring was perfect she looked great . the mirror dress was stunning although i wasn’t a fan of the nude illusion slits in the front

SAPNAP

i really wanted to talk about this bc he looks great i think all black suits are wonderful i love them they look fantastic and elegant and they’re something other than the average but for the love of god you can afford a tailor . the arms and legs were too long they bunched up a little and i love oversized things but for suits it makes them a little messy . great outfit but tailoring would make it fantastic .

RANBOO

Everyone’s gonna give me so much flack for this but . i just don’t like it . i like the mcr green day vibes of it all but the red is too concentrated in one area . maybe if the jacket was open or the mask was a different colour ?? idk there’s just too much goin on i around his neck it’s distracting the idea is good but execution could’ve been a lot better

ERET

gorge. perfectly fitted to them i think the combat boots are a nice touch the only thing is i think the hem is a little short in the front this is purely a personal thing but i like the hem to be touching the floor in gowns so that’s all i’d change rlly

CYR AND PEACH

listen i love the joutfits im not hearing anything about it it’s creative and they pulled it off well they looked good . girl they looked good and i thought it was fun . i liked it .

NEEKOLUL

she looks damn good don’t get me wrong i just . didn’t like this dress in the first place . it puts me in mind of those ‘it’s girl’ sheer dresses that took tiktok by storm last year and like it’s nice but i’m just not a fan of it . the random cut out on the thighs i just don’t get

NIHACHU

i loved this outfit although it was simple it’s a silhouette we don’t see a lot and it suited her really well . it’s rlly elegant and i think the hair and accessories suited it and kept it interesting but still to the minimal idea that niki was going for . she looks good .

OKAY highs and lows .

top toot : triciaisabirdy. that floor length white floral gown was made for her. the colours compliment her skin tone and her tattoos the puff sleeves added a bit of flair to the bodice to distinguish it from the other sweetheart neckline gowns that were popular on the carpet the makeup was minimalist but effective her tattoos almost acted in place of necklaces or other accessories she looked fantastic

top boot : ranboo i just don’t get along with that mask . there was too much going on in one area everything interesting about the outfit was centred around his neck and sternum the red were all slightly different shades the idea was good i liked the idea of the colours but execution needed work .

Trend alert !!!!

SHEER FABRIC !!! bodice panelling, sleeves skirts, full dresses, nude illusions, there was a lot of sheer moments happening

BLACK !! black for a red carpet event . groundbreaking .

NO JEWELLERY !! minimalism is definitely in full effect right now in the fashion world there was a specific lacking of necklaces across feminine outfits this year.

if u have questions . i might answer .

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playermagic23 · 5 months

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Janhvi Kapoor takes centre stage at the Filmfare Awards donning a captivating black corset co-ord set

The glamour and glitz of the entertainment industry reached new heights at the recent Filmfare Awards, where the stunning Janhvi Kapoor turned heads as she stepped onto the red carpet in a breath-taking black gown. The talented young actress, known for her impeccable style and grace, once again proved that she is a force to be reckoned with in the world of Bollywood fashion.

When Janhvi Kapoor walks the red carpet, she always makes an effort to project an air of ultra-glam. She enjoys advocating for maximalist fashion, and her Shantanu & Nikhil design lately had us drooling. Janhvi's fashion sense is marked by feminine aspects, despite its dark and glamorous aesthetic. There's a reason why elevated black silhouette is popular, and Janhvi is doing well. She chose a Shantanu & Nikhil gown for Filmfare awards. Without stylish features, the designer's unique aesthetic is incomplete. The gown exuded glamour from its sheer sleeves, straight neckline, and figure-flattering fit. It had a mermaid-fit skirt that finished the ensemble. Her waist was constricted by a belt and fitted corset-style top that featured the Shantanu & Nikhil brand logo.

Her cheekbones were subtly blushed, and her lips were a shade of nude. Her cheeks were flawlessly sculpted. Her eyes were emphasised by the baby wing eyeliner and pinkish nude lids that matched her fluttery, curled lashes. We are in love with her gorgeous beach curls.

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magiefish · 2 years

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Starring fuckhands mcmike and (soon to be gaslight, gatekeep) girlboss

Felt like making a cover for Mag 47 because it was a funky episode.

[Image ID: Framed slightly off centre is a doorway tilted to the right from behind which emits a yellow light. The door itself is a dark yellow with a black handle and opens out to the right, the yellow light cast on the left side of it. The background of the piece consists of rectangular hues of purple going into darker and darker shades as they move towards the edge of the piece. Coming off of the door is a path covered in green carpet that curves to the left before curving back to the centre with the implication that it continues past the edge of the piece. A stark yellow light is cast out from the doorway across the path.

Standing in the doorway is a white woman with short brown hair in a purple suit jacket, short skirt, sheer socks, and high heels. She stands defensively with her legs far apart, one arm at her side and her other hand touching the doorframe. None of her facial features are visible. Behind her is a man much taller than her who also has minimal facial features visible other than his wide smile with sharp pointy teeth. He is also white, but is paler than the woman. He has long curly blond hair that reaches past his shoulders and wears a long dark green coat that reaches down to his ankles, a purple scarf, wide dark grey trousers, and a red jumper. His hands are at his sides and are very bony, his fingers incredibly sharp and longer than normal ones. Both of them are cast partly in heavy shadow due to the light coming out from the door. They both cast shadows across the path, however whereas the woman’s shadow is normal the man’s shadow is distorted, with a longer thinner neck, a thinner torso and even thinner waist resembling the silhouette of a skeleton. His hands are even larger in comparison to stick thin arms, and his fingers are longer and sharper and jut off from the hands in odd places.

Running along the left side of the piece above the pathway and to the left of the doorframe are the words ‘Mag 47: A New Door’ coloured in purplish blues and warped to look as if they are curving along a wall, tilted at the same right angle as the door. End Image ID]

#the magnus archives #micheal distortion #helen richardson #mag 47 #original art #magieart #I haven’t drawn anything in like 6 months #and then as soon as my exams ended I was possessed by an artistic frenzy blacked out and drew this #the spiral

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7listyle · 3 months

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Spring Style Unleashed: Elevate Your Work Wardrobe

Spring into Style: Business Fashion Tips for Confident Women:

As the weather warms up, it's time to freshen up your work wardrobe ! Whether you're heading to the office or taking part in virtual meetings, these chic and professional outfits will keep you looking stylish and confident. Let's dive into our springstyle guide:

🌼 Floral Elegance 🌼 >Blouse: Embrace floral patterns with a white, orange, and green blouse . >Bottoms: Pair it with dark blue trousers for a polished look. >Footwear: Beige flat shoes add comfort and sophistication. >Accessories: Complete the ensemble with a beige handbag.

🖤 Classic Patterns 🖤 >Blouse: Opt for a blouse with black spots on a white background. >Pants: White pants are versatile and timeless. >Heels: Black heels elevate the outfit. >Bag: A beige handbag keeps it professional.

💼 Professional Chic 💼 >Blouse: Choose a white blouse with black floral patterns. >Trousers: Green trousers add a pop of color. >Heels: Black heels elongate your silhouette. >Accessories: Don’t forget a watch and a beige handbag.

🌟 Elegant Monochrome 🌟 >Top: Stick to a blouse with black spots. >Bottoms: White pants create a clean and sophisticated look. >Heels: Black heels are a must. >Bag: Keep it coordinated with a beige handbag.

These chic and professional outfits will keep you looking stylish and confident

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Here are some key styletips for every businesswoman to rock her spring workoutfits :

1: Add Color: Incorporate pops of color into your wardrobe, like colorful heels or accessories. 2: Tonal Looks: Experiment with soft shades in tonal outfits for an elegant '80s vibe. 3: Classic Staples: Invest in foundational pieces like tailored suits, blazers, and sleeveless turtlenecks. 4: Monochrome Magic: Try all-black ensembles with a bold blazer in a striking shade. 5: Avoid Revealing Styles: Steer clear of low-rise pants, sheer fabrics, and overly tight clothing.

🌸Mix and match these styles to create your own signature look. Happy spring, business beauties ! 💼

Follow me On Instagram: BizOutfits

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jarmes · 4 months

Text

Harry Anderson’s Father (Homestuck: Beyond Canon Fanfic)

I gaze out upon the festering shithole of a world that lies behind the black hole. At first glance, it is identical to the victory world I left. But, with my heightened senses, I am acutely able to sense the inherent bullshittery that permeates through this planet like a cancer. The planet isn’t real, not completely. It exists as a shitty doodle on the back of reality, something that should not exist but still persists. This world is a hypothetical. It is the universe that would have existed, if I didn’t push John Egbert to restore canon to a functioning state.

Years ago, I briefly existed in this universe. The moment I realized what it was, I did the only sensible thing and killed myself so I didn’t have to spend another second in what was for all intents and purposes a terrible piece of fanfiction. That was a mistake. If I had stayed, I could have stopped the Muse from creating lackluster muppet baby players and sending them to kill me.

This world needs to be destroyed. Not just blown up, but fully erased. Its existence is a stain that makes everything I have built terrible by association. This abomination of a world is so bad it got my comic canceled.

I pull the lever and release the Tumor. I’m not surprised when it doesn’t fall from my battleship, down to the non-canon version of Earth C and obliterate it. That would be boring.

I march out onto the deck of my battleship. A teenager is standing on the edge, ripping apart the wires in the bombing mechanism’s control panel. He has white hair, with that trademark Lalonde curl and Jake’s bad teeth. John and Roxy’s kid. I don’t know his name, nor do I care to know.

> Be Harry Anderson Egbert

You watch as that Dirk Strider, that terrifying and handsome son of a bitch, marches towards you. He draws his badass katana and you raise your pathetic garden sheers. Your hands tremble as you sense the incredible goddamn menace emanating off the literal God you have decided to fuck with.

HARRY: you’re that guy my mom told me about. the one with the stupid shades.

DIRK: It is a shame that the kids these days do not understand how kickass ironic anime shades are.

HARRY: how do they stay on your face? double-sided tape?

DIRK: There are more important things to discuss than the intricacies of my clothing. Such as, your attempt at disarming my weapon.

HARRY: i’m not going to let you blow up my world and kill everyone.

DIRK: That isn’t really your choice.

Dirk Strider moves so fast you can’t process it. One second, he’s twenty feet away, the next, he has his katana held against your throat. You feel a drop of cold sweat drip down your neck and split apart as it touches the edge of Dirk’s blade.

DIRK: I’m going to explain something very simple to you. You are not a real human being.

DIRK: You are a shadow of a person from a world that should not exist. You canonically do not exist.

DIRK: People who exist get to foil the big bad’s plans. People who exist occasionally get to impact the plot.

DIRK: Unfortunately, you are a drama kid OC from someone’s Tumblr page who is just sentient enough to feel fear.

The sucker punch from John knocks Dirk flat on his ass.

What.

No.

I don’t get taken by surprise anymore. I’m omniscient and fairly close to omnipotent. It should be impossible for someone to get the jump on me, and yet, I have just been walloped by John Egbert. He appeared in front of me and punched me in the face, so hard that I feel my molars coming loose.

He got here using his Retcon powers. I can see the white outline hanging around his silhouette.

HARRY: dad?

JOHN: harry anderson! i’m so proud of you.

JOHN: military sabotage is basically the highest form of prank.

JOHN: i mean your mom would probably be mad about this, but i’m incredibly proud.

HARRY: dad, i’m trying to stop him from killing everyone i’ve ever met. can we please delay the father-son pep talk until after this is over?

JOHN: oh yeah i can do that.

John turns to face me. He’s wearing his God Tier outfit, which hasn’t grown in the two and a half decades he’s been wearing it and is two sizes too small. He looks like an idiot.

JOHN: hi dirk. can you please stop trying to kill my son.

JOHN: and also stop trying to destroy the world while you're at it.

DIRK: You know he isn’t real.

DIRK: His existence, like the existence of every other person on that planet, is paradoxical.

DIRK: You’re from this world, but you are at least a version of a character who existed in canon.

DIRK: Your son doesn’t have that going for him.

JOHN: i know.

The child looks up at his father with confusion. John doesn’t take his gaze off me.

JOHN: so what?

DIRK: What do you mean, so what?

DIRK: This entire universe is a non-canon abomination.

JOHN: i know but i don’t really care, you know?

DIRK: Of course you don’t care. You’re the version of John who abandoned the world and let it decay into a twisted shadow of canon.

DIRK: If you cared, you would have died fighting Lord English.

DIRK: Instead, you created this aberration.

DIRK: This is the universe of dog dicks, clowns sucking on titties, and Vriska 2: Electric Boogaloo.

JOHN: yeah, but it’s also the universe where my son exists.

JOHN: i don’t really get this canon stuff.

JOHN: i mean, everyone tells me that this world isn’t real.

JOHN: and for a long time, i believed that.

JOHN: i stopped spending time with Roxy or Harry Anderson or anyone else because i knew they weren’t real.

JOHN: but i think i was just depressed.

JOHN: i’m better now. i’m not hiding from the world anymore.

JOHN: harry anderson is my son and i love him.

John reaches over and grabs his son, pulling him into a hug. Harry Anderson tries to shove him away, but eventually relents and allows his father to hug him.

I decide I’ve had enough of this sappy horseshit and stab John Egbert in the throat. The blade goes in easily. Too easily. I jump back as John transforms into wind.

He reforms above Dirk and slams his hammer down, smashing a hole in the deck. The dice in the hammer's bubble bounce around. When they land, a dozen horses appear, summoned by magic, and trample Dirk Strider.

HARRY: dad? are you...cool?

I dash forward, slicing John across the chest. As my blade tears through his flesh, a sudden burst of wind knocks Dirk away. John flies forward and smashes his hammer down on Dirk’s skull.

I focus on the bouncing dice. I see in my mind what they must be and it becomes so. Eight dice land with the one facing up. The Pop-a-matic Vrillyhoo Hammer explodes in John’s hand, taking his arm with it. As John clutches his stump, his son attempts to stab me in the back. I easily sidestep him and knock his sheers away with my sword.

Harry’s fist surrounds with black tendrils as he punches me in the stomach. It hurts, more than I expected, but I’ve long since ascended beyond the point where pain affects me. I grab him by the throat and lift him up, crushing his throat with my bare hands. A stab through the skull would have killed him instantly, but it wouldn’t have been cruel enough. After all, I’m the villain. It behooves me to be menacing.

Harry Anderson Egbert scratches at the back of my hand with his fingernails, trying to tear away my iron grasp. He struggles to breathe. An ironic end, for the son of the Heir of Breath. His eyes roll back in his head as he falls unconscious.

A tornado erupts from John Egbert. The spinning blue wind tears the battleship to pieces. Canons and chunks of metal fall down towards Earth C as Drik loses his grip on Harry. John flies forward and slams his hammer into Dirk’s chest.

I get it now. My domination of the narration normally allows me control over the actions of others. Not complete, but enough to guide things towards the necessary outcome. Except, John Egbert hasn’t been bound by canon in years, not since he touched the Ultimate Weapon. I can’t control him.

He slams the hammer into me and my sword slips from my grasp and begins falling towards the planet. John isn’t a fighter. He doesn’t realize how strong he is. His wind is strong enough to tear apart planets and right now 100% of it is concentrated in crushing me into a fine red paste.

Of course, this is exactly what I planned for. John is so distracted on hurting me that he doesn’t pay attention to his son falling down from heaven, abandoned like Icarus after venturing close to the sun. He doesn’t pay attention to my katana as it stabs through the sky. The tornado holding me in place shoots it down like a rocket. I can’t control John, but I can control my sword. I guide it like a missile to its destination in Harry Anderson Egbert’s chest.

JOHN: harry anderson!

John takes his attention off me for the briefest of moments, giving me the time to stab my fingers into his chest. He screams as I grab hold of his heart. Magenta bolts of lightning flow from my hand into John Egbert’s body. The lightning saws through the metaphysical connection points, severing John’s soul from his body. As I tear him apart from the inside, a light breaks through his chest, so bright it would blind me if I wasn’t wearing my kickass anime shades. The light is shaped like a house. The Ultimate Weapon, the source of John’s bullshit retcon powers, hidden away within his body.

John transforms into wind. The wind dives after Harry Anderson as he falls from space. John reforms around his son and cradles him as he slowly descends down to the ground. They land in the middle of a field.

JOHN: it’s okay! it’s going to be okay!

John blubbers like a baby as he cradles the bloody soon-to-be corpse of his brat. The kid tries to say something, but he only gets out gurgles due to the sword in his lung. I decide to be nice and remove it. I appear behind John and, with a single movement, faster than the eye can see, draw the sword from Harry’s body and swing it, cleaving off John Egbert’s head.

Harry crashes down in the grass as John’s body falls over. I hold out my sword and skewer John’s head as it lands, the tip of my blade coming out of his eye. In another plane of existence, a grandfather clock’s pendulum swings between two judgments, Heroic and Just. I put my hand on the scale, forcing John’s death to be heroic.

As I wipe John’s blood from my sword using my cape, I feel the scissors stab me in the back. Damnit. I was distracted by controlling the clock and forgot about Harry. He’s injured, but has his teeth gritted in anger. He clutches a large pair of shears, made out of thin black tendrils. A weapon made out of pure Doom that pokes out of the heart symbol on my shirt, having gone through the black lump of coal that is my actual heart.

Harry Anderson is the Bard of Doom. He’s a destroyer, just like me, and Doom is his weapon. This terrible planet, the insurmountable odds, the hole in his chest, the death of his father, all of these things make him stronger. He concentrates the power of the Candy timeline into his tendrils.

The Doom spreads through my body. My flesh rots away, bit by bit. It feels just like it did when the Stardust consumed me. Before it’s too late, I cut my own head off.

Harry Anderson struggles to breath as he crawls towards his father’s corpse.

HARRY: this is stupid.

HARRY: you don’t talk for me for years and then the first time you actually try and give a shit about me you die.

HARRY: you’re a god. gods don’t die. get up.

HARRY: please.

DIRK: That isn’t going to happen.

I look down upon the injured child, my arms crossed. If it wasn’t such a cliche, I would call him pathetic. I can’t die, not really. I have long since transcended beyond a physical being. I exist as a disembodied consciousness existing outside of any universe, who interacts with others by puppeteering a physical form. It is trivial for me to conjure another body out of nothingness.

I raise my hand into the air. A large ball of energy appears above my palm, growing larger until it blocks out any light from the sun. The death ball I have summoned is made out of pure, concentrated destruction. It will tear apart the souls of this putrid rock and restore the purity it has taken from my canon. And it won’t take twenty goddamn episodes to do so.

I toss the death ball. Harry holds out his hands, firing all of the energy he can muster in a doomed attempt to hold back the ball. He thinks he’s the brave shonen protagonist fighting for his home, but he isn’t. He’s a crappy OC who should have never existed. This isn’t death. It’s a mercy.

Blue wind wraps around the ball of energy. It disappears, pulled out of reality by John’s retcon powers.

Fuck.

I turn around to see John’s corpse hovering five feet off the ground. His head is still gone, but in its place sits a skull made of wind wearing John’s glasses. The light from the Ultimate Weapon is brighter than it has ever been.

John punches himself in the chest. A thousand different copies of his arm appear around Dirk, pummeling his new body to a bloody pulp.

I swing my sword but an arm grabs it and retcons it out of existence.

I hold out my hands and fire my electricity. It begins ripping the Ultimate Weapon out of John’s chest but the lightning stops when another fist hits Dirk in the stomach. John holds his hand out and his wind flies into the portal on his chest.

None of this is happening. I refuse to let it happen and thus it does not. I’m the narrator. That’s why the fucking text is orange.

The wind spreads through the source code of canon, wiping the text color clean.

DIRK: What did you do?

DIRK: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?

The light from the Ultimate Weapon shines on Dirk. He screams as he is dragged in. He appears in an empty white box, where he will remain for a very long time. He pounds on the walls of his cage.

DIRK: LET ME OUT!

The thing that defeated Dirk Strider walks over to Harry Anderson Egbert. He waves his hand and his son’s wounds disappear, erased from ever having happened.

JOHN: my father died when I was young.

JOHN: it was really hard on me. i guess it’s gonna be pretty hard on you.

JOHN: and now i’m realizing how much must have sucked that he didn’t get to watch his son grow up.

John fades away into wind and disappears.

HARRY: dad?

No answer comes.

#homestuck #homestuck 2 #hsbc #homestuck beyond canon #hs2 #harry anderson egbert #john egbert #dirk strider #homestuck epilogues

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