caprabarbuta

[helsensm]

it's the following day, but I still want to finish the last few requests, so let's just call it a "lazy hangover sketches" okay aaffHhj

@junkanimate bro, sorry if you wanted the mk1 Liu Kang, I just love how cute and cool mk11 Liu looks in his stupid little leather vest 🥰

[astroboots]

Okay okay okay loving the fuck out of all the homecoming content but but hear me out. Domme vibes reader with some subby boys. (Mostly just me itching for subby Frankie content lol. Make that boy soft)

Hiya lovely!!! I love how I've gotten a couple of request for reader being a bit more domme and the boys to be subby!! It's something I'm definitely planning on exploring more in the universe.

HOMECOMING: CONTROL

Pairing: Frankie Morales x female reader (you)

Content: explicit smut

Homecoming Drabbles | Homecoming Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist

The relationship between Santiago and Frankie is special. You've known it since the first day, Santiago decided to bring home an "army buddy of his" during leave (something he had never done before). There's a bond there that cannot be broken and is comparable to no other in their lives.

Santiago trusts the man with his very life, willing to put his bare and beating heart in Frankie's capable hand for safekeeping and trust him to keep it alive for him. For Santiago, that is everything.

For Frankie, Santiago is someone he would lay down his life for. Risk everything no matter how much trouble he got for it and it was always worth it for him.

Sometimes, a relationship that runs that deep can make anyone outside of it feel like an outsider.

It's something you had to learn to make peace with early on in your relationship. That what Santiago is to Frankie, you can never replicate in identical notes in your own romantic relationship. Can never be compared. There is only one Santiago after all, in the very same way that there is no one in your life (including Frankie) who could ever replace Santiago for you.

Only thing you can do is find a space in him, distinct from Santiago, where no one else can be compared to you.

You don't realize it at first, even when you've found that place, even when Frankie's carved a hole inside himself for only you to rest in. Because Frankie doesn't speak with words about how much you mean to him, and unless you know him well, every inch inside and out, sometimes those signs are easy to miss.

Like the way, he seeks you out when he's had a bad dream. Hand reaching out for yours, as he folds himself over you and hold you so tight you struggle for air.

Or how after a bad day of work, his hands will reach and grab for your hips as he pulls you up and over his chest until you are sitting on his face and he tries to devour you whole, taking orgasm and orgasm from you, until he has you shaking, panting, and dripping over his mouth and tells you, "one more baby, just one more."

When Frankie is hurting, to the depth where he cannot speak, it's not Santiago he's seeking for. When he feels small, useless and like everything his big clumsy hands are grappling onto breaks and crumbles underneath his fingers, the only one he looks for is you. He trusts you. With all of him. With you he doesn't have to be in control. With you he can let someone else take over. He trusts you with his secrets, his weakness. Trusts you to be in charge.

"Fuck, baby please." Frankie's begging, voice hoarse, fingers flexing against your shoulders, trying to resist the very urge to dig in and leave the bruises that his strength could so easily do without effort.

His cock is weeping. Glistening precome welling from the fat tip, flushed pink with eagerness as it twitches and jerks in the air, inches from your swollen lips.

"Please what Frankie?" You hum, pressing your lips to the inside of his thighs, instead of giving him the very attention that he's begging you for.

"Baby, please, give me your mouth. Need it."

Frankie lets you take from him, whatever it is you need, without him having to give back. Doesn't have to prove his worth for you over and over, because he's already done so. It's something that that only you can do for Frankie and no one else, not even Santiago.

Leaning down, you press your lips to his length, and it twitches in response as he groans with a sound that is tortured above you. His hip stutters up seeking for friction and you relent, fingers gripping around his girth.

With you Frankie doesn't need to be in control. With you, he can let his guard down. Lets you take his pleasure in your hands at your whim and control to prolong and keep at the edge of your mercy for as long as you see fit. You can give him that.

You smile, giving him a slow gratifying stroke from base to tip that has him whining for you. "Don't worry, baby, I'll take care of you."

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[classy-mc]

His little Detective. Chapter 1 - A new case

Hello to whoever finds this story!

It's my first time writing and publishing a story like this, but I've been itching to put my own ( though not so original) ideas and writing out for others to ( hopefully) enjoy. So I hope you enjoy.

Thoughts and criticism is good so I would love to hear them. Thank you!

The streets were as busy as always,  full of all sorts of people.  Business men hurrying home from work, couples going out for a date night, groups of friends going to bars to get the casual glass of whiskey or wine, or people who just wanted to go out for a stroll. 

Nari was heading back home,  her heels clicking with each step she took on the sidewalk. The woman didn't stand out too much.  Short black hair,  focused yet sharp grey eyes,  her clothes classy and sharp as well.  She was going home,  her thoughts in an excited knot.  

It's been months since she got her hands on such a good case and to celebrate - she also managed to get her hands on a few bottles of her favorite wine.  It would help her think. Nari wasn't a simple woman - she was a detective.  A pretty popular one at that.  It was only a matter of time till she got her hands on this particular case. 

She approached her apartment complex and headed up straight to the 3rd floor.  She know she would have to move soon - the complex was starting to get a little too crowded for her liking.  Pushing that thought aside she stopped at her door,  pulling out her keys and letting herself inside. 

Nari closed the door,  locking it as per usual. She shrugged off her coat and hung it onto the chair closest to her before she waltzed over to the kitchen.  Why?  To get her wine glass after all.  

After rewarding herself with a glass of wine,  she settled down on her couch and pulled out the case.  She opened it and smirked lightly. 

" Those idiots gave the case an interesting name for once?  It must be really special then " 

Mr. M

That's what they called it. The woman scanned her eyes through the evidence present in the case.  She had to admit - whoever was behind these crimes was a mastermind.  From breaking into banks like it was nothing to getting rid of tricky criminals in the city and leaving notes to tease the police officers on how incompetent they were.  Nova agreed.  Those idiots couldn't even get the simplest of cases solved without some help from her side.  

She lifted her glass of wine to her lips,  getting a taste of the fine liquid.  So far she was content with the evidence and case.  The suspects already were disappointing. Nari rolled her eyes and threw the case elegantly onto the coffee table in front of her. 

" Do they really think those men could be behind such brilliant crimes?  Oh please, those boys can't even tie their own shoelaces " She laughed to herself,  finishing her glass. 

Nari leaned back onto the couch,  thinking.  She had a lot of evidence so it would help get a few worthy suspects.  

Not today though.  While she got a case,  she also had a new headache - another reason for the wine. Being a detective - that was her side job,  she didn't even wish to call it that. Her real job?  Writing.  While she wasn't a worldwide known writer - she was known well in their city. 

Detective novels,  thriller type novels - that was her specialty. As skilled as Nari was,  she could only write about the things she knew well or,  in one way or another,  experienced them. 

The memory from a couple of days came to mind.  An email from a fan - asking for a romance novel. 

'How in the world will I write something like that?! ' The woman thought.  She never knew much about it,  nor did she care.  For all her 24 years of living - she never got attached to anyone. She didn't want to disappoint her fans so she replied with a simple ' I'll think about it's a mistake.  That was a mistake.  

With a sigh,  she refilled her glass,  emptying it almost immediately. She would get through this. She always did after all. 

Nari checked the time.  Almost 0:30 am.  A reasonable time to slip into bed.  She stood up,  leaving the case on the coffee table before taking her glass and half finished bottle of wine back to its place.  For safekeeping as she would like to say.  After taking care of that she did her usual routine. 

By the time she slipped into bed,  it was well past 1 am.  No big deal.  The woman smirked to herself,  leaving a silent threat in her mind to the criminal she would catch soon. 

'I'll catch you,  Mr. M.  And when I will, we will have a lovely chat ' 

With that - she drifted off to sleep. 

 ⌌⊱⇱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰⌍⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⇲⊰⌏

 In the early morning,  Nari woke up to her phone buzzing.  A text from a friend. With a soft groan,  she sat up,  taking it into her hands and seeing the message. 

°•Katie•°

Morning,  Nova.  Don't forget to eat something in the morning.  We all know how you forget those things when working on a case or a novel.  Good luck!  

The girl only chuckled. In true nature - her friend Katie left a usual morning message about eating.  It was true - she would forget most of the time. 

°•me•°

Of course.  Is Wine night still present?  

Wine night was their usual Friday night where the two girls would meet up at Nari's place and have a chat over a glass of wine.  Though Katie had a terribly low tolerance - it was still interesting and useful for them.  20 minutes of talking would be the most they would get usually. 

°•Katie•°

Yes!  I bought your favorite wine too so you'll have a blast. 

 °•me•°

 Wonderful.  See you on Friday. 

With Friday plans all set,  she got out of bed and dragged her feet over to the kitchen to get some needed breakfast. 

After managing to finish her simple meal and the cip of coffee she oh so desperately needed, she headed for her office. More work awaited her.

Meanwhile, in another spot in town, there sat a man in his office, waiting for a certain someone...and some certain information.

There was a knock on the solid wooden door and the man simply answered, his deep voice echoing through the room.

" Enter "

The door opened and a person walked in, holding the valued information he needed.

" I've gotten the information you wanted sir...and some interesting news too. Someone took up your case again "

Again? With a cold smirk, he raised his eyes to look at the henchman infornt of him.

" Oh really? Ans who is the new fool that decided to test their luck? "

" Its not a man this time. Its a woman. A famous detective in the city. " Replied the male , passing the boss the info.

" All you need to know is here soon "

His bright yellow eyes landed on the photo attached to the papers. He only let out a soft chuckle, before beginning to plan something in his mind.

" Lets see how far you can push your luck, my little detective...hopefully this will be more entertaining then the last time..."

[theclaravoyant]

If you don't already have a prompt for fitzskimmons + musical, maybe one night when they have the base to themselves Jemma breaks out a hidden (from Daisy, anyway) talent at the piano, which leads to the revelation that her prodigy bf and gf have all kinds of awesome artsy skills she didn't know about, but Daisy can definitely roll with this new discovery and has some musical talents of her own up her sleave.

AN ~ This was so much fun XD It might not be exactly what you had in mind, but it’s super fluffy and I hope you like it

Relationships/Characters: FitzSkimmonsPrompt: “Musical” for @mcubingo​Rating: GWarnings: N/AOther Tags: Fluff, Shameless Fluff

Read on AO3 (~1000wd)

-

“Whatever shall we do?” Jemma wondered.

“Not Scrabble,” Daisy put in. “I’m tired of getting my ass kicked.”

“Well, not video games,” Jemma objected, before Daisy could suggest it. Fitz elbowed her and added –

“Jemma’s tired of getting her ass kicked.”

Daisy snorted, but continued to scowl at the limited collection of board games and the like they had on base. They had the classics like Cluedo and Risk and Monopoly, as well as some that she’d never heard of. (Squatter? Stratego? What the hell were they?) But somehow, none of them seemed interesting. She was restless, and would have loved nothing more than to run to a park and kick a ball around, but alas.

“Well, we can’t leave the place unguarded,” she reminded Fitz and Simmons. “We’re the only seniors left.”

“Maybe pool?” Fitz suggested.

“Oh, yes, you have a pool table now?” Jemma’s eyes lit up. “I haven’t really seen the new rec room since I got – you know, back. Now would be the perfect opportunity to take advantage.”

“Also the perfect opportunity for margaritas, if nobody else objects,” Daisy put in.

“Hear, hear,” Fitz agreed.

The rec room had its own miniature kitchen, and Daisy took great pleasure in compiling a jug of the cocktail for the three of them to share. They may not be able to leave the base, but they were as off-duty as they could be in such a situation and, if nothing else, she was dying for a kick of limey freshness after spending so long in the stale air of the base.

Meanwhile, Fitz checked cues and chalk and set the balls in their triangle, while Jemma wandered a circle around the table, twirling her cue absently as she perused the new fittings. There was the pool table, of course, and another lounge and television – this one accompanied by DVDs rather than an X-box, and a box of old VHS tapes in the corner. There was a new bookshelf filled half with classics and half with what appeared to be language dictionaries and tools. She’d have to make a note of that. And then there was…

“What’s this?”

She stepped up to it, brushed her fingers along the front. Now that she thought of it, she hadn’t seen a piano in so long, it was almost unreal. She lifted the lid that covered the keys and pressed a note down. It was a little muted and woody and odd, but still she smiled in delight at the sound of it.

“Oh, they found that downstairs, doing some clearing out of new floors,” Fitz explained. “Most of what was with it was falling apart, but there’s a bit of life in it left. Mack and I did what we could.”

“Is there music?” Jemma was already checking the inside of the piano stool, and she held her breath in wonder for a moment as she drew out the old pages from their place of safekeeping. How long had it been since anyone had last laid eyes on these papers? Played these notes? She imagined a steamy saloon, around the era of Peggy Carter. The musician in her mind was much better than she, and yet, she found the inspiration irresistible.

She plucked out a couple of notes, reacquainting herself with the keys. It was not long before a whisper of Für Elise strung itself together, but just as quickly, it seemed to tumble apart.

“You play?” Daisy mused, coming over with her jug of margarita. Pool game abandoned, she used the green velvet as a regular table – lack thereof being the downfall of this rec room – and poured them each a drink. They drank to each other, a wordless hurrah to their love and health and all things good, and took a swig before Jemma waved her hand and insisted -

“Oh, no, hardly. Of course I took lessons when I was a girl, but…”

“Well, the only one I know is Chopsticks,” Fitz supplied, and crudely tapped out a few bars.

“Can you play that?” Daisy wondered, and nodded to the pages Jemma had pulled out. Claire de Lune.

“Oh, I’m – I mean, I don’t think so. I’m afraid I’m out of practice with the dexterity required. Perhaps I could do some chords and things…”

She studied the music closer, trying to recall what all the symbols meant. Key signatures, sharps and flats; she had always been quite fascinated with the intricacies of music. It was a prime example of science creating beauty.

And then, all of a sudden, the ageing, almost sepia pages before her were covered up by the appearance of a songbook from a slightly more recent time. Jemma raised her eyebrow at Daisy, who had put it there.

“ABBA?”

“Yes! ABBA!” Fitz cheered. Daisy beamed.

“Alright then, ABBA it is,” Jemma conceded. She sat down in the stool and shuffled around a little, still tempted to be proper about it despite the fact that Fitz’d had half a pint of margarita already and there was nobody around but these two notoriously more embarrassing people to hear it. Mercifully, the chords were written at the top of the staff and Jemma still remembered most of them. It was going to be a mess, but as she was sure Daisy would remind them all with the energy of a 1940s after school special, it was their mess.

To be honest, it had been a long time since Jemma had been happier than she was that night; reliving her love of the piano with Fitz and Daisy singing along – and if she did say so herself, all three of them doing so with enthusiasm and a frankly not too shabby level of skill – through one of the greatest songbooks of their (well, perhaps their parents’) times. With the rec room to themselves, Fitz and Daisy put on quite a dramatic duet during the songs they knew best. Some of the time, Jemma could have sworn Fitz was impersonating Elvis, and once – to all of their great amusement, Daisy had lamentably strewn herself across the pool table like the most heartbroken of lounge singers. But always they came back to the spirit of the evening, loudly and rambunctiously singing together-

“… SO WHEN YOU’RE NEAR ME, DARLING CAN’T YOU HEAR ME, S-O-S…”