#evil truck driver

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball GT TV Special

✨GT Stands for Goku’s Tuchus✨

Unlike its predecessor series, Dragon Ball and Dragon Ball Z, there were no Dragon Ball GT theatrical films.  However, there was a television special, entitled “Goku’s Side Story! The Four Star Ball is a Testament to Courage”.  When Funimation released this special in the U.S., they called it “A Hero’s Legacy”, and promoted it as a “movie”.  So whenever people talk about “the GT movie”, this is what they’re referring to, even though it wasn’t actually a movie. 

It doesn’t matter that much to me, you can call it whatever you like.  I just want to be clear for posterity.  Someone might be reading this and thinking “Well, he did this TV special, but he forgot to cover the movie.”  No, they’re the same thing.  And I suppose this could have been a movie, since it’s about 45 minutes long, like most of the theatrical releases that came before, but this aired on TV instead, like the Bardock special and “History of Trunks”. 

Also, for some reason, I keep thinking this was promoted under the title “A Hero’s Tale”, but I can find no evidence of this.   I probably just misremembered the title at some point, and assumed it was correct, because of the tale/tail pun.  But the hero of this movie has no tail, so it doesn’t actually make sense.  Not that this ever stopped a punster before, but I digress.

The reason I’m covering the special now is because it aired on March 26, 1997, between episodes 41 and 42 of the main GT series.  And I thought I should cover these in real-world chronological order.  On the DVD box set, the special is included on the final disc, implying that you’re supposed to watch it last, which is fitting, since it’s set in the middle of Episode 64, the series finale.  But I think the best viewing order is to check it out here, just like the audience in Japan did back in ‘97. 

Actually, the best viewing order for GT is to skip the whole series and just look up the theme songs on YouTube, then check out some clips of Knight Rider episodes.  Actually, yeah, let me jot that down.

✨Duhragonball’s Recommended GT Viewing Order✨

YouTube video of ‘DAN DAN Hikareteku’ by Field of View.

YouTube video of ‘Sabitsuita MACHINE GUN’ by WANDS.

Okay, so there was an evil David Hasslehoff in Knight Rider, and he drove a semi truck named “Goliath”, and in this clip Knight Rider tricks him into driving off a cliff.  Check it out.

You’re done!

Okay, that was fun, now let’s get down to business. 

So it’s one hundred years after Episode 41 and everyone’s dead.  Well, almost everyone.

According to this special, Pan is the only one left in the world who personally knew her grandfather Son Goku. Wait, so Giru’s dead too?  I mean, he’s a robot, so you’d think he’d still be around?  And what about Dende?  Don’t Namekians live for a long time? I don’t think they thought this through, although it’s possible that some of these longer-lived characters may have been killed off in some off-screen crisis. 

Wait, is this why they killed off Majin Buu and Piccolo in GT?  Were they planning this flash forward and they wanted Pan to be the last survivor of Dragon Team?  It would be hilarious if they went to all the trouble to take out Buu and Piccolo, and completely forgot about Giru.  Maybe they planned to kill Giru later in the series and couldn’t get around to it. 

Anyway, Pan’s an old woman-- 110 years old to be exact-- and she lives alone in Satan City with her great-great grandson, whom she named Son Goku, in honor of her grandfather.  This character is colloquially known as “Goku Junior”, but I’m just going to call him “Goku” for the rest of this post, since the special is all about him.  I’ll specify his famous Saiyan ancestor when it comes up.

The special opens with Pan and Goku paying their respects at their ancestor’s grave.  The implication is that the original Goku is buried there, but Episode 64 indicates that he isn’t.  So I guess they just set up a marker in his honor.  Anyway, Pan then starts “training” Goku, which isn’t exactly a martial arts drill, but just some general exercises, like balancing on a log, or playing catch.  But Goku sucks at this stuff.  Pan laments that he’s not like his namesake at all. 

At school, Goku gets cornered by some bullies, and their leader, Puck, swipes Goku’s novelty pen, which kind of looks like a spaceship, with a little spaceman floating in it.  Goku puts up no resistance at all, which annoys Puck, because he heard Goku’s been training with Pan, and he seems to only be provoking Goku to find out what he can do in a fight.  But Goku won’t fight, and he denies learning how to fight from Pan, so it comes to nothing.

At home, Pan scolds Goku for not standing up for himself.  Goku says he wouldn’t fight Puck because he would surely lose in a three-on-one situation, but Pan insists that it’s better to get beaten up than to back down.

I have to say, there is a lot of Saiyan in Pan here.  And it’s not just because of her age.  I give GT Pan a lot of crap, but she’s no hypocrite about this.  Pan got right in Baby’s face several times, even when she had absolutely zero chance of defeating him.  And she knows Goku has the same spirit, which is why she’s so frustrated that he never seems to show it.  It’s a variation of Saiyan Pride that was always there with Pan, but it was harder to see in the main series, when Pan was a sidekick to several other Saiyan characters.  Now, she’s the only one left who even remembers what full-blooded Saiyans were like.

Then she collapses in mid-rant. 

She’s somewhat more stable when they get her to a hospital, but they never explain what’s wrong with her.  At her bedside, Goku begs and pleads for her to get better, and he promises to train hard and beat up Puck as soon as he can.  Aw, the poor kid blames himself for this. 

Pan tells him that strength alone isn’t what he needs.  What he needs is courage to rise up to life’s challenges.  She’s always known that he has it in him, even from the day he was born, which is why she named him after their ancestor. 

Wait, so Pan named him?  Fair enough, but what happened to Goku’s parents?  This is something the special never even tries to address.  I think Toei just liked the dynamic of these two living alone together, like Grandpa Gohan and Goku in the pre-Dragon Ball days, or like Goku and Pan in GT.  And that’s fine, I kind of like it too, but with those dynamics, they explained what happened to the generations in between the characters.  Here, we know Goku Junior had parents, but we never see them.  They’re never even mentioned.  Did his mother die in childbirth?  That’s incredibly sad.

 I’ve often wondered if Pan had any other children, grandchildren, etc., but you’d think this would come up while she’s in the hospital.  Even if her family couldn’t make it to Satan City to be with her, you’d think there’d be some mention of them. 

Instead, she passes out, and Goku gets upset and runs home, alone.  We get a shot of their mailbox, with cute pictures of the two of them drawn on the door, and it’s pretty clear that this is it.  Just Pan and little Goku.  It’s really sad when you think about it.  There was a bigger family unit here, and something tragic must have happened, and they’re all that’s left. 

I don’t think we’re supposed to think about that.  The special never mentions it, so maybe it’s just an oversight, but it makes Goku’s isolation even more profound.  There’s just nobody here for him.  No one to look after him while Pan’s in the hospital, not even some wacky aunt or whatever. All he’s got are photos of Pan from her childhood.  It’s kind of weird how these seem to be the only photos she has in the house.  Wouldn’t Pan want to remember her children?  Especially if they’re dead?  Or maybe she just can’t bear the reminder.  I mean, Trunks and Giru are long gone too, but she still seems to have happier memories of them.

Okay, so Goku sees this picture of Pan and Giru with a Dragon Ball, and he recalls the time she told him about it.  She starts going on about her “great adventure” in space...

... But he gets bored and goes back to playing Super Nintendo instead.  Goku Junior rules.  Me too, kid.  Dragon Ball GT sucks. 

Anyway, thinking about the photo reminds Goku about the story of the Dragon Ball, and he recalls Pan telling him it was left in his ancestor’s house on Mt. Paozu.  So he resolves to go there and find it, thinking that the Dragon Ball can grant his wish to make Pan well again.  So he packs up and heads out, and when Puck and his crew try to stop him, he refuses to back down.  Some sort of ki effect shoves the two cronies aside, and he just walks right past Puck like he ain’t even there. Goku’s on a mission.

But Goku gets tired pretty soon into the trip.  I seem to recall Mt. Paozu being like 500km from Satan City.  It was some ridiculous distance, which was why Gohan had to use Kinto’un and his own flight powers to commute to school.  Goku’s doing this on foot, which seems pretty ridiculous.  But then a truck driver stops and agrees to give him a lift.

✨Positivity Page✨

Okay, so this is my favorite character in the whole special, and maybe the best character in all of GT.  I call him Evil Truck Driver, because that’s what he is.  His cab is full of garbage and he rules.  He offers Goku a bite of his hamburger, and Goku declines, saying he has his own food in his pack. 

And that catches Evil Truck Driver’s interest.  “What’s this?” he thinks.  “More food?  Besides my own food?  That gives me an idea..”

So about five miles down the road, Evil Truck Driver suggests that Goku stop and take a break to pee, since they have a long trip ahead of them.  And while Goku’s taking a leak, Evil Truck Driver empties Goku’s pack, tosses it out of the truck, and drives off. 

Dude just stole that kid’s food!  And left him on the side of the road!  That is fucking horrible!  Do you see?  Do you see why I call him Evil Truck Driver?

I mean, fuck.  A lot of villains in this franchise have done far more horrible things, but let me put this into perspective.  Evil Truck Driver wasn’t even hungry.  He was in the middle of eating his own meal, and still went out of his way to steal even more food.  From a child!

Oh, but that’s not the worst of it.  Check this out. 

IT’S A HAMBURGER TRUCK.  Evil Truck Driver is literally hauling tons of hamburgers. I mean, they’re probably all frozen, but you know he’s got a microwave in that cab.  I promise you, that burger he was eating was pilfered out of the back.  Evil Truck Driver didn’t pay for that burger.  If he’d steal from a child, then he wouldn’t think twice about embezzling from the MocMas corporation.  So this motherfucker has a truck full of food, more food than he could possibly eat in a year, and he still went out of his way to steal more food from a helpless child.  

Now, you might be asking yourself: How in the world does a guy this crooked ever get entrusted with hauling freight?  Good question!  Let me answer that with another question: Do you think he stole this truck?   Because I do.   I think he saw it sitting at a gas station, noticed the winged hamburger image on the side, and just hopped in and drove off.  The real truck driver is still in the gas station, taking an extra long shower, and he hasn’t even noticed that his rig is gone. 

There’s a special place in hell for Evil Truck Driver, I’m gonna tell you that right now. 

So Goku hoofs it to a convenience store, and Puck’s there waiting for him?  How did he get all the way out here?  Or did Goku double back?  And why is Puck wearing a mining helmet?  Anyway, Puck seems to have taken a great interest in Goku’s journey, and decides to go with him.  He says it’s because school is boring, but in fact he has a secret respect for Pan, who once stopped him from using a baseball bat in a street fight.   I guess this was why he picked on Goku, since that was his closest connection to her.  When he hears about Evil Truck Driver, he tells Goku that you have to be wary of extra-nice people, which is true, I suppose, but it’s still kind of weird how Evil Truck Driver is presented like some life lesson based on the real world.   Like one of the writers had this happen to him once.  Someone offered him a lift and then stole all his food. 

Let’s move on.  So Puck decides to join Goku, and he steals a bunch of provisions from that convenience store, because stealing is suddenly okay now? Then they camp out in the woods and get attacked by wolves.  Goku gets cornered and suddenly powers up and jumps to the top of a tree without realizing it.  Then the boys get rescued by a kindly young woman.   She takes them to her home and puts them up for the night, and even feeds them.  Gosh, she sure is nice... waiiiit a minute...

Oh no!  She’s hot!  I mean-- evil!  yeah, she’s evil.  Also, hawt.  Turns out, the woman is actually some sort of shape-shifting demon named Mamba.  She kind of looks like Emperor Pilaf, Garlic Junior, and all of the Herans from Bojack’s crew.  I don’t know that there’s a connection there, but I just want to point it out. 

Luckily, the boys are still suspicious from Goku’s encounter with Evil Truck Driver, so when she goes to kill them, they’re one step ahead.

She corners them, but Goku tells her she’s pretty, which seems to distract her for a moment.  No, don’t change back!  Mamba, you were hotter as a demon!

Awww, yeah! That’s what I’m talkin’ about.  Mamba was only pretending to fall for that dumb trick, and she uses her magic hair to strangle Goku, until he has another burst of hidden power and knocks her down.  Puck cuts him loose and she’s pretty upset about that, but then they knock over her soup broth and they get away.

Then they make it to a rope bridge, and Goku nearly falls off while trying to cross. Puck tries to save him, but ends up falling into the ravine himself, while Goku miraculously survives.

So now Goku’s all alone again, but he has to keep going, for his grandma’s sake.  Along the way, he rescues a baby bear from this other demon guy, who’s apparently in league with Mamba?  Goku does the “hidden power” shtick again and sends him flying.  Okay, I’m sick of dancing around this, let’s just say it.

✨”Good” “Ideas”, Poorly Executed✨

This is just kid Gohan from early Dragon Ball Z.   I get what they’re going for here, this is a story about a kid who’s expected to live up to the example set by his famous ancestor, and he ultimately succeeds in an unexpected way.  But they already spent that nickel on Gohan’s character arc in the Saiyans Saga.  Goku Junior running around with Puck reminds me a lot of that episode where Gohan lived with those orphans for a while. 

Oh, and he bandages the baby bear’s paw, just like how Gohan tended to that injured dinosaur.  Remember that? 

Well, never mind that shit, because Mamba’s back, and she wants revenge for her hair!  Also, she brought the snake guy from earlier, and there’s a buff chicken man too.  Is this the descendant of Captain Chicken? 

Chicken Man tells Mamba that she looks good with short hair and yes.  Hard Agree, Chicken Man.  I’m not even jealous.  You shoot your shot, Chicken Man.   Mamba’s a fine foxy lady, and if I can’t have her, then I’ll be satisfied knowing she’s getting it on with somebody, even if it’s a giant chicken.

Wait a minute, she’s wearing the same pendant that Bojack’s crew all wore!  What is up with that? 

So they chase after Goku and the baby bear, and also the mama bear, who befriended Goku when she found out he saved her baby, and then this big purple motherfucker shows up.  He’s Yomao, the “Lord of Mount Paozu”.  Yeah, I forgot to set this up.  Earlier, Puck had mentioned a legend about some terrible monster at Mt. Paozu, and he expressed an interest in seeing it eat Goku.  Then they ran into Mamba, and Puck wondered if she was the monster of Mt. Paozu, but it’s actually this guy, Yomao.   The other demons all cower in deference before him.  I don’t think they actually work for him or anything, but they recognize his power.

And Yomao is definitely a demon, and not just a boar-man or some jacked up descendant of Oolong.  He has shapeshifting powers like Mamba, except he seems to be able to do more with them, like turning his limbs into weapons, or even tree roots, which he uses to choke out the mama bear.  The mama bear signals Goku to run away with her baby while she has Yomao occupied, but he baby can’t stand it, and tries to help its mommy. 

And that’s the last straw.  Goku’s had all he can stands, and he can’t stands no more.  He turns Super Saiyan, and between the Gohan stuff and the Bardock headband, it’s like he’s ripping off three generations of characters at once. 

Yeah, Yomao thinks he’s Lord of Mt. Paozu, but he should have checked his GPS, because I’m pretty sure this is actually Goku Town, Population: Get wrecked, son.

The other demons see Yomao’s defeat and flee in terror, and then Goku passes out.  When he wakes up, he thinks the bears defeated Yomao instead.

So then Goku finally makes it to where he’s going, which is funny because I don’t know how he knew the exact location of this place.  But it’s Grandpa Gohan’s house, which is still standing after all this time. 

But inside, it looks like a mess.  The place has been abandoned for decades.  Once upon a time, Goku set up a Capsule house right next to this one, where he and Chi-Chi raised their family.  And Gohan had a house right next to it at the end of DBZ.  I think that’s all still there in GT as well, but 100 years later, that’s all gone.  I guess after Chi-Chi died, Pan put her house back in its capsule and that was that.  Maybe she left the Four-Star Dragon Ball here while she was packing up, and never returned. 

This is the most poignant part of the special for me, because it’s Grandpa Gohan’s house, and who knows how long ago he started living out here, but that’s where it really started.  The special mostly focuses on the two Goku’s, but it the real “hero’s legacy” is Grandpa Gohan’s.  Now, some 153 years later, no one even remembers the kindness he showed to an alien baby, or how that simple act of compassion changed the course of history and saved the entire universe.  All that’s left is an abandoned house. 

Goku finds the Dragon Ball inside, and prays to it, asking the Dragon Ball to spare Puck and heal Pan, but nothing happens.  Goku is horrified to find that his whole journey has been for nothing, but then....

The original Goku suddenly shows up!  Like, Kakarot, I mean.  Actually, I should just call him Kakarot for this scene.  Old Kakarot, since he’s very old. 

So he explains that you need all seven Dragon Balls to make a wish, but apparently Pan never explained this, or Goku was too busy playing Super Nintendo to pay attention.   Old Kakarot explains that he’s Goku’s ancestor, but he keeps losing track of how many generations back it’s been.  So he just calls himself “Grandpa Goku.”  That’s succinct, albeit imprecise.

Actually, Old Kakarot comes through for me while he gives Goku Junior a pep talk.  Goku Junior thinks he’s weak and cowardly, but Old Kakarot says he’s impressed with the strength and courage he’s seen from the kid over the course of this journey.  He caps it off by pointing out that, after all, Goku Junior is his descendant, but he loses track of the generations again, so he just calls him Son Goku and lets that name speak for itself. 

Now, in the dub, they don’t go over this in detail, but in the subtitles, Old Kakarot actually uses the line “You’re the grandson of my granddaughter’s... granddaughters’s child...”  And even though he’s confused, I think that paints a more realistic picture.  The dub implied that Pan is Goku’s grandmother, but she’s 110!  There should be a few more generations in between, and Old Kakarot seems to confirm this. 

If we take him literally, then Pan had a grandaughter, who then had a child of her own, who then became the parent of Goku Junior.  So that makes Goku Junior the great-great grandson of Pan.   And that means he’s the great-great-great-great-grandson of Old Kakarot.  And that sounds about right, becuase it puts three generations between Pan and Goku Junior, instead of just one.  Pan could have become a grandmother around age 50, and then a great-grandmother at age 75, and then Goku Junior could have been born around the time she turned 100.  It also explains why Old Kakarot kept getting confused.   In the dub, it’s implied that he’s just a great-great grandfather, which isn’t that complicated, but the gag makes more sense when he has to remember four “greats” instead of just two. 

Anyway, don’t ask me how Goku Junior is related to Luffa.  GT isn’t canon.

So back to the story, while the two Gokus are talking about this, suddenly a police airship shows up, and Puck is on board.  He survived the ravine?  How?  We never find out.

Oh, and Pan’s in there with him?  So she survived too?  Well, we never found out what was wrong with her in the first place, so sure, I guess that makes sense.  Maybe Goku Junior just jumped the gun when he went on this Dragon Ball hunt.

Goku turns to tell Old Kakarot the good news, but the old guy is suddenly gone?  Goku thinks the Dragon Ball actually worked, but then he hears Old Kakarot’s voice telling him it was never the Dragon Ball, but Goku’s own courage that made this possible.  Wait, what?  Puck fell down a ravine!  Maybe someone rescued him, but it sure wasn’t Goku. 

So Goku rejoins the others and they head back home, and the narrator mentions that he’s keeping the Four-Star Ball as a memento of Old Kakarot, just like how Old Kakarot kept it as a memento of Grandpa Gohan, just like Grandpa Gohan kept it... well, not for any sentimental reasons.  I think Grandpa Gohan just thought it looked cool.  And then we get an obnoxious picture of GT Goku to close this out. 

So yeah, I think it’s safe to say this is my favorite GT thing out of the entire series.  It has a genuine character arc, and it tells a much more coherent story, unlike the regular episodes which often seem to just mark time or muddle through in order to get to the next plot point.  But that still leaves the big question:

✨Is This Special Worse Than “The Roaming Lake”?✨

I’m not gonna lie, this was a tough call.  I do enjoy this special more than anything else in GT.  When I decided to rewatch all of this, the special was the one part I was looking forward to seeing again, because it was a bright spot in an otherwise crappy run of episodes. 

However, as I go through this thing, I notice a lot of sloppy, unexplained contrivances. Here we go.

1) We never learn what happened to the rest of Pan and Goku’s family.  It doesn’t really matter, but since their absence heightens the drama, I think it was a missed opportunity, and it’s likely that Toei never even considered it. 

2) Goku’s encounter with his ancestor, Old Kakarot, is never explained.  It would be tempting to handwave this by saying it gets addressed in Episode 64, but no, Episode 64 doesn’t explain jack shit.  Is this a ghost, or a hallucination, or what? This is like when Goku appeared in DBZ Movie 10, also without explanation, and I hated it then and I hate it here.  It is not “nitpicking” to want to know how a 153-year-old character is suddenly walking around acting like no time has passed at all.  If it’s magic, just tell us it’s magic.  But don’t say nothing and expect the audience to just accept it as magic.  That’s bullshit.

3) How did Puck survive?  The Dragon Ball didn’t save him because it doesn’t work that way.  Pan couldn’t have saved Puck because she would have had no idea he was down there.  I guess Puck could have survived the fall and managed to flag down Pan as she passed by, but he fell straight down a ravine.   Again, just tell the audience these things.  Have Puck say something about landing on a big pile of mattresses. 

4) How is Mt. Paozu just overrun with man-eating demons?  I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but Yomao must be pretty damn strong if it takes a Super Saiyan to beat him, so how did he get here?

5) Also, it’s pretty rich that Pan never gets to become a Super Saiyan, but they let her great-great-grandson do it, even though he’s fighting small fry like Yomao.

6) The moral of this story is completely undermined by the plot.  Goku Junior found himself along this journey, so he gained some personal growth, but the trip was a complete waste of time.   Pan would have recovered anyway, apparently.  Nothing Goku did actually helped her.  All he accomplished was to beat up a few demons and almost get Puck killed.  Well, he did rescue that baby bear, but come on.  Mamba and her crew will just hunt down the bear and eat it tomorrow.  If Goku had just stayed home and played it safe, everything would have worked out just as well. 

7) How did Puck know Goku would be at that convenience store?  How did he get there before Goku?

8) Evil Truck Driver, while awesome, completely derails the entire story arc.  The idea here is to escalate the obstacles in Goku’s path.  He starts out struggling with Pan’s training, then he deals with a bully, then the Evil Truck Driver, then a demon, then three demons, then an even stronger demon.  But somehow Evil Truck Driver short-circuits the whole thing.  He’s the most memorable threat in the special, because he’s so over-the-top that I can’t stop thinking about it. They should have come up with a more plausible way for Goku to get robbed, is what I’m saying. 

9) In the same vein, they kind of screwed the pooch by having that rope bridge between the demon encounters.  Puck (seemingly) dies to the bridge, so that scene is really the climax of the special, even though the demons are supposed to be a bigger deal.

10) Finally, Goku Junior’s whole hidden power gimmick really works against his character arc.  He has to find the courage to face all these dangers and obstacles, but there’s no tension to any of the physical hazards in the story.  We know the bullies can’t hurt him because he shoves them away with his ki.  We know the wolves won’t eat him because he’ll use his ki to escape.  We know Mamba won’t kill him because his ki will save him at the last second. 

So when he agonizes over the decision to defend the baby bear, it doesn’t matter, because the audience knows he’ll be just fine.  Goku Junior doesn’t know that, so it’s the same amount of emotional turmoil for him, but he’s still in no danger.  And when he stands up to Yomao, it’s the same thing.  As a result, the only meaningful ordeals Goku Junior deals with in this story are the psychological ones.  He has to find a way to help Pan on his own.  He loses Puck, but he has to keep going.  He finds the Dragon Ball, but it doesn’t work.  Those are the big moments in the story, but they’re overshadowed by the inconsequential ones, where he looks like he’s in danger but he’s actually not.

So, in the final analysis, this special is a little too clever for its own good. They tried to do this heartwarming tale about a boy discovering himself on a quest, and mostly succeeded, but they still handwaved a lot of stuff that shouldn’t have been handwaved.  In particular, Pan and Puck being okay at the end is a lot like the Roaming Lake miraculously showing up at the end of “The Roaming Lake”. 

The difference is that “The Roaming Lake” actually took the time to set that idea up so it would make sense at the end, when it gets paid off.  The problem with the GT TV Special is that we start with a legend about the Dragon Ball, but then it doesn’t work, and then it turns out everything worked out anyway, for no apparent reason.  There is no payoff to that.  The viewer is satisfied to see Pan and Puck are all right, but it would have been a lot sweeter if their survival had anything to do with the events of the story.

So... yeah, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but chalk another on up to the Roaming Lake.  Holy shit. 

✨The Blade Braxton Memorial Haiku*✨

Are wishes free now?

Grandpa Goku, please grant my wish

For a better story.

[johnbly]

there is a special place in hell for people who lay on their horn at you when you're being a reasonable and safe driver

[barksbog]

i have a disease and it´s called "when i try to not work i´m really bored and just work anyway or just stare into space"

[mydadlistenstothis]

This week, we get a “boxen” of donuts and laugh at life's foibles with the comic's clean comic, Brian Regan!

[burntheedges]

Is this a date? 💜

Frankie Morales x f!reader | 9k words 18+ (rated E) | my fic list | ao3

a/n: Happy Valentine’s Day, Jenn! @jennaispunk I hope you enjoy my gift for you for the #SpaceSistersSecretValentine. it got a bit long (lol). I loved your prompts – this is the one I chose:

prompt/summary: Everyone is going to the Valentine’s Day party as a couple and it would look stupid if you both went alone, so you and Frankie go as a couple (of course that’s when you're forced to confront your feelings for each other).

tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, banter, food and drink mention, best-friends-to-lovers, kissing, smut, p-in-v sex, oral (f!receiving), creampie (use a condom, folks), pet names (hermosa, querida, bebita, preciosa, amor, baby, babe), dirty talk (in English and Spanish, translated in parentheses), no use of y/n, reader has no description other than having a vagina, being on birth control, and using she/her pronouns, AU (either no Colombia trip or better outcomes from the trip, you decide), no mention of breasts or bra

Thank you to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta (as always) and to @urmomsgnocchi for looking over and helping with the Spanish dialogue! (check out ali’s tips for sexy talk in Spanish, too)

Is this a date?

Frankie grimaces as he drops out of the driver’s seat of his truck onto his driveway. He takes a moment to stretch his back, knowing it won’t actually help. The tightness he feels isn’t in his back, anyway.

He groans through the stretch and turns to grab his work bag from the backseat before locking his truck and heading inside, where he drops it by the front door. Toeing off his shoes, he shakes his head. He still feels it. He tries to ignore it and heads to his bedroom to change out of his work clothes, which are stained with engine grease from a long afternoon of repairs. It isn’t anywhere near as good as flying the helicopters or planes himself, but at least this way he still gets to work with them. (At least, that’s what he tells Pope whenever he asks.)

A few minutes later, Frankie is flopping onto his couch, beer in hand, no longer able to hide from the worry and the way he can feel it in his body. The way he has felt it, for weeks now.

Two weeks, to be exact.

He’s had the same pit in his stomach ever since Benny told him about the party. The Valentine’s Day party. Frankie sighs, letting his head fall back against the back of the couch, and feels his hat fall off his head. He sighs again.

He doesn’t know what to do. For the first time in years, all of the guys are with someone. All of them, except for him. And all of the women he knows are dating someone. 

Except for you. 

Frankie presses his palms to his eyes and tries not to sigh again. He’s developing a habit and he knows the guys will call him on it. But he can’t help it. Not with his feelings about this, about you. 

You’ll be the only two at the party without a date. And somehow Frankie had agreed that that meant the two of you should go together. As friends. On a friend date. And now the party is only one day away and Frankie feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin. Maybe he should just fake sick, try to get out of it. But he doesn’t want to leave you hanging, even if he knows it’s going to be absolutely excruciating to be your fake date. Just for one night. Fuck.

(Pope, the absolute asshole, had been the one to suggest it while you were all out at the bar. Right after Benny invited everyone to the party.

“Well maybe the two of you should just go together, then!” Pope had been grinning as he said it, knowing he was getting under Frankie’s skin. 

Frankie figured most of the guys knew he liked you, had probably noticed the way he couldn’t look away from you whenever you were in the room. But Pope was the only one who knew for sure, who had heard it straight from Frankie himself. He was using that knowledge for evil. “It’ll be fun! Give you a reason to get dressed up, Fish, stop looking so scruffy for once.”

Frankie had wanted the floor to swallow him up, or maybe just to run away. He wanted to look at you to see your reaction to all of this but also couldn’t bear to do it. He’d just stared at his beer, tense. He’d felt like he was one word away from bursting into action, with no idea what that action might be. Maybe strangling Pope with his bare hands. 

But then you’d responded. “Give it a rest, Santi, we all know you just wish you could rock a mustache like Frankie.”

Everyone at your end of the bar had laughed and the conversation had mercifully moved on. Frankie had finally looked up and found you looking at him, too. You were smiling but he could tell you were nervous. He couldn’t think why you would be. 

You both started talking at the same time.

“Sorry about Pope—“

“It’s not a bad idea—“

You both trailed off, and it took him a second to register your words. 

“You don’t have to apologize for Santiago, Frankie, I have met him before. Once or twice.” You were smiling now, but he was stuck on what you’d just said.

“Wait, what isn’t a bad idea?” He reached for his beer. 

“Oh! Um,” you looked nervous again. He tried not to do the same. “We could go to the party together. Since everyone else is paired up. You know, make it more fun.”

Frankie froze with his drink halfway to his mouth. He hadn’t been expecting that. You just meant as friends, right? You had to. In all the years he’d known you, he’d never thought for even a second that you might feel about him the way he feels about you. 

He’d been quiet for too long. Your smile dropped and you started again. “I mean, we don’t have to—“

“No! Wait,” Frankie hastily put his beer down, barely noticing the way it spilled onto his hand when he almost missed the bar top. 

“It was just an idea, I mean—“

“Hold on,” he slid his dry hand closer to yours on the bar but didn’t touch you. “I didn’t say it was a bad idea. It probably would be more fun.” He was trying not to hope you’d mean to suggest a date. No way.

You nodded, still looking nervous. “Yeah, we could, um–�� he watched as you took a deep breath. “Maybe do the whole thing, you know? Get dressed up. Make it fun.”

The whole thing. Frankie felt his hope rising and tried to shove it back down. “You mean, um. Do you mean as—”

Your eyes widened and you sat up straight on your barstool. “No!” Your voice was loud and Frankie was a bit surprised. “I mean, not like that.” You laughed but you looked uncomfortable doing it, and he didn’t know how to take it. “Just as friends, right? A friend date. Or something.”

Frankie had felt his heart drop into his shoes. A friend date. The last thing he wanted, and probably the best he would ever get. He’d agreed, trying not to notice your relief when he did. 

And he’d been trying not to think about it ever since.)

You’d barely talked to him since that night and Frankie was trying not to read into it. You’d agreed, before you’d parted ways that night – a friend date. He’ll pick you up at 6, you’ll both dress up a bit. Try to have some fun.

Fun. He scoffs to himself, thinking of it. More like, try not to think too much about how he wishes it was a real date. Try not to make it weird.

Usually you text him daily. Not always for long conversations, but you would share funny or annoying things about your day, and Frankie would do the same. But not since that night. The radio silence is killing him, but he doesn’t want to push and find out that you’ve gone quiet for exactly the reason he’s afraid of.

Sometime in the last two weeks Frankie has allowed himself to face the reality of the situation. Sure, he’s admitted to Pope in the past that he likes you. But the distance between you has given him the space he apparently needed to face up to the truth, something he’s secretly known all along – he’s in love with you. Absolutely head over heels, fully lost, one hundred percent in love. He’s been lying to himself, afraid to acknowledge it. But he is, and now he’s afraid he’s lost you before he can even do anything about it. 

You’re his best friend. You have been for a while now. And you deserve a good date, even if it kills Frankie to give it to you. So he’ll do it. And he’ll try not to hope too much for more.

Frankie doesn’t sleep much that night.

…

On the day of the party, you wake up at 6am. You’re lying in bed, asleep, and then suddenly you’re awake and staring at the ceiling and your first thought is, it’s today. Your friend date is today, and you press your hands to your face to hide from yourself.

You can’t believe you got yourself into this situation. You’d been so close, breaths away from suggesting an actual date with Frankie. And you’d chickened out at the last minute. Like you did every time. You’d wanted to kick yourself the moment the words “friend date” came out of your mouth, but there was nothing you could do about it now.

Not without admitting the truth.

(After Frankie had left, Santiago had made his way over to you and leaned against the bar next to you with a serious look on his face. 

“So I guess you heard that,” you said, groaning.

He nodded. “You should ask him out for real.”

You shook your head in response. “If he wanted that, he would have said so.”

Santiago rolled his eyes at you. “You and I both know Fish isn’t going to do that. He’s all in his head about this.”

You sighed. “I just–” you swallowed and closed your eyes. “What if you’re wrong, Santi? I can’t lose what we have now.”

He’d looked at you, and as always you appreciated that Santiago took your feelings so seriously. He was a good friend. 

“Well, then, you have a couple of weeks to think about it. About what you want. And then at the party you can see. Flirt a bit. You’ll have his full attention, and you know it. And you’re his best friend, you know that, too. You won’t lose him. Either way.”)

It reassured you at the time, but it turns out that something had changed that night. You feel like you’ve forgotten how to be friends with Frankie all of a sudden and it hurts. What if you’ve already lost him? Because of this stupid friend date?

By the morning of the date, you’re in knots. You can barely focus and you have no idea where the day goes – the time flies by and suddenly it’s 5pm and you’re rushing into your bedroom to get ready.

You know what you’re going to wear. You’d pictured it in your mind, the same night you’d gotten yourself into this mess. There’s an outfit you’ve been saving for a special date (a date with Frankie, you try not to think) and it’s time to bring it out. You’re hoping, and trying not to hope too much, that Frankie will be blown away by it. That something will happen tonight. That things will change, but not so much that you lose your best friend.

You look at yourself in the mirror and you know you look good. This is how you were hoping you’d look for a first date with Frankie, and you try to let that be a good sign. You take a deep breath and close your eyes.

Here we go.

Frankie, always punctual, rings your doorbell right at 5:59pm. It makes you smile and you feel some of your nerves fade away.

They all come rushing back when you open the door and see him.

Frankie is wearing dark jeans and a deep purple button up dress shirt, both of which fit him perfectly. His beard is neatly trimmed and he’s not wearing a hat. His curls are loose and styled and your breath catches in your throat. He’s holding flowers. You barely notice the way his eyes have widened as he looks at your outfit, too.

“Your hair!”

“You look amazing–”

You speak at the same time, and then you both smile. It relaxes you a little bit.

“Your hair looks great, Frankie, I can’t believe you’re not wearing a hat!”

He grins a little. “I wouldn’t wear a hat on a first date, come on.” The words send a shiver up your spine and you try not to read into them. But you want to. “Um, or a friend date, I guess.”

“Um,” you reply, and then mentally kick yourself. “Well, it looks really nice.”

He blushes. “Thanks. I mean it, you look amazing. I’ve never seen this number before.” He gestures at your outfit, and you smile wider. “And these are for you.” He hands you the flowers, and you look down at them, overwhelmed. You step inside to find a vase and Frankie lingers near the door behind you. 

“I’ve been saving it,” you say over your shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“The outfit.” You smooth your hands down your sides and try not to look nervous as you turn back around to face him.

“Oh yeah? For what?”

“Oh, um. For a first date.” You can’t believe you just said that. But he said it first, and that means you can say it too, right? You keep talking before either of you can dwell on that thought. “Should we go? Don’t want to be late.”

Frankie steps back to let you move past him and nods. “Sure. Don’t want Benny to give us crap for missing any of his party.” You laugh.

You feel better in the car. This feels easy, as easy as it always does with Frankie. Whatever weirdness has arisen between you hasn’t broken what you already have. It’s a comforting realization.

As Frankie pulls over to park outside Benny’s house, he asks, “so, how do you want to play this?”

You tilt your head at him. “What do you mean?”

He gestures at the house. “They’re going to tease us for this, you know that. About how we’re on a date. How do you want to play it?” 

You consider him, and wonder if this is your chance to test the waters. You turn your upper body to face him and lean against the door of his truck. With a teasing smile of your own, you reply, “well, they’re expecting us to be awkward, right? They’ll tease us, we’ll be weird about it, they laugh. What if we beat them to it?”

Frankie turns towards you and rests his left arm on the steering wheel. He looks confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if we go in there and act like we’re on a date? Not like two friends who are expecting to be given hell for it. Like we’re on a real date. It’ll confuse the hell out of them, they won’t know what to do with it.” You hold your breath while you wait for Frankie’s answer. You have no idea what it will be.

His brow is furrowed as he looks between you at the gear shift. “But…” he trails off and you reach over to nudge his hand to encourage him. He slips his hand over yours slowly and squeezes. It isn’t the first time in your years of being friends that he’s held your hand to reassure you like this but you badly want to read more into it now. “I see what you’re saying. It would probably be pretty funny to see their faces.” You nod. “But what about… after? Since it’s not a real date.”

You meet his eyes and gather your courage. “Who said it isn’t?” And before he can reply, before you can even see his reaction, you open the door behind you and slip out of the car.

“Wait!” You hear Frankie call for you and try not to grin too widely. He comes jogging around the back of his truck and meets you halfway across the lawn of Benny’s house. “Wait, hey, hold on. What do you mean?”

You focus on walking, and he falls into step next to you. You can feel his eyes on you as you step up to the front door. Before you knock you look at him and meet his familiar warm gaze. “I meant what I said, Frankie. Who said it’s not a real date? Maybe it could be.” 

You turn away and knock without letting him reply. You’re vibrating with nerves, surprised at your audacity. You’re certain he can see the tension in your body, the nerves. But maybe this is what you need, to see if you can have what you want. 

Out of the corner of your eye you see Frankie straighten up and shake his head. He goes to run his fingers through his hair but stops himself. Suddenly, he steps closer and slips an arm around your waist to pull you close to him. You gasp at the feeling of his body, warm and solid along your right side. “If you wanted this to be a date, hermosa, you only had to ask.” His voice is deeper, suddenly, and he’s so close to your ear you can feel his breath.

You start to turn your head towards him to respond, but before you can, the door flies open in front of you. You both turn towards it, startled.

“Hey, you two! You’re late!” Benny smiles widely when he sees you waiting on his porch. He’s wearing a bright red dress shirt and holding a pink cocktail. He starts to gesture you inside when his eyes fall to Frankie’s arm, which is still snug around your waist. You can see his surprise and decide it’s now or never.

“Hi Benny,” you reply, leaning into Frankie and smiling. “Where’s the party at?”

His eyes dart between you. “Go straight through to the kitchen. Hey, I thought–” 

You cut him off. “Thanks! Let’s grab something to drink, Frankie, I’m thirsty.” You step forward and reach back to catch Frankie’s hand as he lets it fall from your waist. As you pass by Benny, you know he’s staring at your hands, which are laced together and holding tight. Frankie squeezes your hand and it reassures you.

When you arrive at the kitchen, Frankie crowds behind you, much closer than he ever has before. His hands land lightly on your hips. You have no idea what your face is doing.

You need to focus. This was your big idea and clearly Frankie is shifting into some first-date mode that you’ve never seen before. Get it together. Flirting is clearly on the table, now, and you need to step it up.

As you move into the room, with Frankie close behind, the others yell greetings and welcome you in. You notice that Benny and Steph have gone all out with the decorations – the kitchen looks like you’re inside a Valentine’s card. And most of the food and drinks are red or pink (or made of chocolate). Soon enough you have a drink in your hand and you’re deep in conversation with Santiago’s girlfriend, Yovanna. Frankie stands behind you, left hand on your left hip, drink in his right. You can feel his body heat and you’re trying not to let how flustered you are show on your face. 

After a few minutes, Santiago comes over to pull Frankie into another of the boys’ longstanding arguments about something or other. Before he goes, Frankie suddenly shifts his grip on your hip and squeezes. He leans close to murmur in your ear, “I’ll be back soon, hermosa.” His words send warmth spiraling down your spine and you shiver. You blink and meet Yovanna’s eyes.

She has one eyebrow raised as she takes a long sip of her drink. “So, what’s going on here, hmm?”

You feel your cheeks heat and throw back the rest of your own drink. “A real date, I think.”

“You think?”

You shake your head. “We just said it, or I did, outside. ‘Who said it’s not a real date? Maybe it could be.’ And then it was like he flipped a switch and now Frankie is flirting and I’m still catching up. Even though it was my idea. I guess.” 

She laughs a little, but kindly. “He’s head over heels for you, you know. Of course he’s flirting. You gave him the go ahead and now he’s going all in. He knows what he wants.” She nudges you with her shoulder. “You should get him back. Raise the stakes.”

You tilt your head, considering her words. “You think so? I’m still worried I’m going to mess this up.” 

Yovanna looks around the room before stepping closer to you. She lowers her voice. “You’re in love with that man. You gave him an opening, and he leapt through it. Go get him.”

You knew that, of course. But something about the way she says it to you flips the switch for you, this time. You look over at Frankie, who has his back to you, and you smirk. She nods. “That’s right. He wants you. And I can’t wait to see the look on his face when you show him you want him, too.”

You grin at her and give her a hug. “I think I need to go save my date from your boyfriend.” She laughs and waves you onward.

As you approach, you see Santiago notice you and you wink at him. He grins but doesn’t let Frankie see his distraction. He’s still got his back turned when you step up behind him and slide your right arm around his waist, ducking under his left. “Hey, babe. You want something to eat?” You can feel the way his body responds to yours – he turns towards you immediately, like it’s second nature, and his left arm wraps snugly around your shoulders. He looks surprised, but he meets your gaze with a delighted smile. 

“I could eat.” He runs his fingers down your arm lightly, and you bite your lip. You turn to Santiago, and realize Will and Benny are there, too.

“I’m stealing him, boys.” 

Santiago is grinning, hugely, while Will and Benny both look like someone just hit them over the head with something heavy. They look shocked and you smile innocently at them in response. 

“Come on, Frankie.” He follows easily as you tug him away and you realize how attuned to you he is, like always. 

“Was about to come find you, hermosa.” He leans closer to murmur into your ear and you shiver. “Would much rather talk to you than those idiots.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm, of course.” You feel Frankie’s nose brush against the top of your ear and your breath catches. But you’ve arrived at the table laden with food and he stands up straight. “Seems like we have a lot to talk about.” You meet his eyes again and for a moment you both just stare at each other, knowing somehow that you’re both recognizing the huge shift in your relationship that just happened as you arrived at this party. You start to reach out towards him when Steph comes flying into the room. 

“It’s game time! Everyone in the living room, stat!” She taps you both on the shoulders as she passes, and you sigh.

“I guess it’s game time.” You laugh ruefully as you say it, reaching out to grab Frankie’s hand as you move towards the living room. 

But he uses his grip on your hand to pull you back in and ducks forward to press a fleeting kiss to your cheek. “I’ll be ready to talk whenever you are.” You feel the heat rush to your cheeks as you smile at him helplessly. 

“Smooth moves, Morales.” 

He grins as you tease him. “Only for you, baby.” 

In the living room you find that the group has split, with the boys on one side and the significant others on the other. Steph claps her hands together when you arrive and gestures for you to split up, too. “To your sides, you two! It’s us versus them!”

It turns out Steph has planned a series of games that pit the two halves of each couple against each other. It’s fun – the whole room is laughing, everyone is having a good time.

But it also means that you and Frankie are separated for most of the evening, watching each other from across the room. You know it’s obvious – your friends have elbowed you more than once, and Yovanna waggles her eyebrows at you after you watch (and admire) Frankie drawing so carefully and precisely for Pictionary. You roll your eyes back at her. 

You feel his eyes on you, too. Watching as you read off a clue, tracing down your back as you draw for Pictionary. He’s looking at you, only at you, and it’s washing over you like the tide, pulling you to move back to his side.

It’s a long while before the games are exhausted, and therefore a long while before you find yourself next to Frankie again. The group has dispersed, filled the room, and Benny puts on some music for dancing before pulling Steph into his arms over by the fireplace. You’re smiling and watching them when Frankie steps up beside you. He leans in and you turn towards his warmth like a flower turning towards the sun.

“Dance with me, hermosa?” He wraps his arms around your waist from behind as he says it, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the base of your throat. You shiver as you lean back against him and nod. 

“Yes, Frankie. Anytime.” He grins into your neck and you close your eyes, wondering how you got here so quickly. It feels amazing but you’re also reeling at the change. Frankie just kissed you.

He steps back and grabs your hand to lead you down the hallway to the backyard. “I thought we were going to dance?” You look back and notice all of the other couples are still in the living room.

“We are,” he agrees. “But I want you all to myself, for a minute.” You smile and follow him out the backdoor. Benny and Steph clearly decorated out here, too, and there are twinkling lights everywhere. You can hear the music piping through the speakers on the back porch.

Frankie leads you down the steps and into the yard, and you feel the anticipation building inside of you. He turns to the right to step into the shadow of a tree. You realize you’re now out of sight of the back door and you raise an eyebrow at him when he pulls you back into his arms.

“All to yourself, huh?” Not that you’d rather be anywhere else but here.

He smiles at you as you start to sway back and forth to the music. “Come on, baby, can you blame me? I just found out a couple of hours ago that I’m on a real first date with the woman of my dreams, and I’ve barely had a minute alone with her since.” You feel your cheeks heat as you grin at him and tighten your right arm around his neck. 

“The woman of your dreams, huh?” The idea of it makes you feel breathless, almost dizzy. Of his dreams. 

His gaze softens and he nods. “Yeah, querida. You have to know that by now.” He pulls you closer. “I wanted this, so much. You’re my best friend, and you’re more than that. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. I just never thought you’d feel the same.”

You run your fingers through his hair at the back of his neck and watch as he shivers. “I do, Frankie. For a long time, now.” 

He tilts his head, considering your answer. “How long?”

“Well…”

He grins. “Come on, baby, bet I’ve got you beat.” 

You frown at him. “I think…” He squeezes your waist to encourage you and you laugh. “Well, definitely since you helped me build that bookshelf.”

His eyes widen. “The bookshelf? The one in your bedroom?” You nod. “That was years ago. You mean we could have been together all this time?” For a moment he looks crestfallen, but shakes his head. “No, wait, I’m sorry. I did hope for that. But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy right now.” You smile at him. That’s Frankie, for you – always so worried about how everyone around him is feeling. 

“It’s ok, Frankie. I know what you mean. But I also love being your best friend. And that took us a while.” 

“... also?” His eyes were locked on yours, intent. You felt your heart rate pick up.

“What?” 

“You said you also love being my best friend. What do you mean, also?”

Shit. You bite your lip, unsure of how to reply. It’s too early, right? Even if you have known for years. You can’t confess your love on a first date. 

Can you?

His gaze drops to your mouth and he smirks. “Hey, baby, it’s ok, I’ll go first. Te amo.”

Your mouth drops open and he grins. “Frankie?” You’re sure you look absolutely shocked. 

“Te amo sin freno, preciosa. Ever since that day you pushed Pope in the lake.” (I love you no matter what (a lot).)

You’re gawking at him now. That was only a month after you met. “Frankie! That was–”

“I know,” he lifts his left hand to cup your face gently. “And I didn’t know it then. But I recognize it now. I was head over heels from the beginning.”

You throw yourself at him before he even finishes speaking, and he laughs as he wraps his arms around you. You press your face into his neck and let him hold you close. You feel like your whole body is tingling, head to toe. Frankie loves you. 

You take a deep breath and say, voice steady and full of emotion, “I love you, too, Francisco Morales.” You feel his breath catch and you grin. “I’m in love with you.”

Frankie suddenly lets you go, and you almost stumble before he grabs your face in his hands to pull you in for a kiss.

It’s not what you imagined kissing Frankie would be like. 

It’s better. 

His hands are large and warm as he cradles your face gently between them. His lips are soft and firm as he presses his mouth to yours. You can feel the heat of his body against your own and you sigh as you let your weight rest against him, wrapping your arms around his waist. His thumb brushes your cheek as his tongue teases your bottom lip, and you start to open for him, eager. You feel more than hear the small moan that escapes you. Frankie smiles against your lips and wraps one of his hands around the back of your neck. 

That’s when you’re interrupted.

“I’ll get it going!” Benny comes barreling out of the back door, shouting about the firepit. Frankie doesn’t step away from you but he breaks your kiss, looking up to watch as Benny jogs past the two of you. He doesn’t seem to notice you standing by the tree.

“Fuck,” Frankie releases a breath and rests his forehead against yours. “Fuckin’ Benny.” You can’t help but laugh, and Frankie joins you. Your laughter seems to finally attract his attention.

“Well, hello, lovebirds.” You look over and find Benny grinning at you, hands on his hips, firepit forgotten. “What are you two up to back here, hiding behind that tree? Hmm?”

You roll your eyes at him as Frankie buries his face in your shoulder. “Well, we were having a pretty good dance, until someone interrupted.” You raise your eyebrows at him and he laughs before tilting his head at you, seeming to consider something.

“So this is a real date, then?”

You nod, and Frankie finally picks his head up to look at Benny. “Our first date.”

“Well, shit.” Benny winks at you. “You know, Fish, if you leave right now you can probably sneak around the side of the house before anyone realizes. Maybe take your date somewhere more romantic. And private.”

Frankie looks startled, and then smiles down at you. “Need anything from inside, querida?”

You bite your lip. “My bag and my coat are in there.” Frankie starts to frown, but Benny moves closer and interjects.

“Oh I can handle a little op like that, no problem.” He claps his hand on Frankie’s shoulder, grinning again. “You two go around the side and I’ll meet you out front. No one’ll notice. They’re all still in the living room.”

You both nod, and you can see the way Frankie relaxes. “Thanks, Benny.”

“Don’t mention it, man. Just go somewhere more romantic. Don’t hang out with us losers on your first date.” You laugh as Frankie takes you by the hand to lead you down the path that circles the house. Benny actually salutes before heading inside to take care of his part of the plan.

It must go off without a hitch, because he hands you your things by the front door and waves you onward, smiling. You and Frankie are both giggling as you sneak around the corner and run across the lawn. You practically leap into the passenger seat of his truck, grinning as you watch Frankie start it up and throw it into drive. He peels away from the curb so fast the tires squeal.

He reaches over to grab your hand once you’re on your way, lifting it to press a soft kiss to your knuckles that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Where to, hermosa? Want to go get a drink? Maybe some dessert?”

You turn and let your temple rest against your headrest as you consider it. Consider him. You’d love to go out with him on a real date, but right now there’s only one thing on your mind. 

“Come home with me, Frankie?” 

He grins at the road and squeezes your hand. “You sure you don’t want to go out for real, first?”

You lean forward and rest your elbows on the center console. Your joined hands fall into his lap and you smile as your hand comes to rest on his thigh. “I do want that. But we have all the time in the world to go out. I know what I want, Francisco.” You pause and he turns to look at you as he pulls to a stop at a red light. “You.” You watch as his eyes darken and you smile. “Take me home.”

Frankie nods eagerly and turns right when the light turns green, in the direction of your house. Only minutes later he’s pulling into your driveway and you’re out of the truck almost before he pulls the key out of the ignition. 

He meets you as you round the front, arms snaking around your waist as he backs you up against the side of your garage. 

“Hey, baby.” He leans in to press a soft kiss to your lips. You run your hands into his hair. “Shit, it feels so good to hold you like this.” He kisses you again, and this time you both get swept away in it. Until a car passes by on the street and you remember you’re still outside. 

“Frankie,” you breathe his name as he presses soft kisses down the side of your neck. “Frankie, let’s go inside.”

“Mmm, in a minute.” He nibbles at a spot just below your ear and you whine, so quiet you can barely hear it. 

“Francisco.” You try to sound stern, but you miss it by a mile. He laughs.

“Alright, alright.” He steps back and grabs your hands as they fall from his hair. “Let’s get inside, querida, I got plans for you tonight.”

You follow him towards your door with a grin. “Oh yeah? What plans are those?”

He tugs the keys from your fingers and opens the door for you, ushering you inside. “Well, the first item on the agenda tonight is licking your pussy until you come for me.”

You stumble, bracing yourself on the wall as you slip your shoes off, almost face-planting on the floor. You turn to look at him, incredulous. “Frankie!”

He’s looking at you with a cocky half smile and you feel the arousal pooling in your underwear. “Please, baby? I’ve been dreaming about it. For so long.” His words are a plea but his tone is something else entirely. He sounds so sure of himself. Your head spins and you turn to let your back fall to rest against the wall. Frankie is only this cocky when he knows, without a single doubt, how good he is at something. You know that, and you’ve heard the guys tease him for how much he likes doing it. The promise that underlies his words makes your legs feel like they might give out.

“Y-yes, Frankie,” you breathe and he steps forward to wrap you up securely in his arms. “Yes.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs. He kisses your cheek and starts to walk with you towards your bedroom. Before you can even catch your breath he’s easing you down onto the edge of your bed and kneeling in front of you. “Can’t wait to get my mouth on you, hermosa. Lo necesito.” (I need it.)

Sitting in front of him, you reach for your clothes and smile as you tease him. “Lo necesitas? Really?” (You need it?)

“Sí, querida,” he helps you remove your clothes until only your underwear is left. “Estoy desesperado.” (I’m desperate for it.) He winks and then leans forward to press a kiss over your underwear. “Por favor? (Please?) Let me make you feel good. I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good. Lo prometo.” (I promise it.)

You shiver at his words and move to slip your underwear off. As you do he leans forward and pushes your thighs apart. His gaze is locked on your pussy as you reveal yourself to him.

“Baby, you are so fucking beautiful. Every bit of you.” His eyes raise to meet yours and your breath catches at the look on his face. “Relax, let me take care of you.”

You fall backwards onto the bed at his urging. Frankie leans forward again and presses a soft kiss to your slit. Your fingers tangle in his hair without you even realizing you were going to do it. He slides one hand upwards from your thigh and gently opens up your pussy under his gaze.

“Hermosa,” he breathes, and you feel it on your clit. You squirm. “Lo sabía. Estás tan mojada, bebita. Es todo para mí?” (I knew it. You’re so wet, baby. Is this all for me?)

You lift up on your elbows to meet his gaze and nod, grinning. “Always for you, Frankie.”

“Mm,” he hums and moves forward to lick a devastating stripe from your entrance up to your clit. “Que cosita tan linda. Tan deliciosa.” (What a pretty little thing. So delicious.) And then he stops talking, focusing fully on eating you out with devastating precision.

His tongue teases at your clit before pressing down firmly, sending a spike of pleasure shooting up your spine. His fingers tease at your entrance while he finds a rhythm with his tongue that has you clutching at this hair. “Yes, Frankie–”

He presses forward lightly with one finger, slipping inside of you, and you moan. You’ve caught yourself staring at his hands so many times and the stretch is better than you ever imagined. He curls it and presses inside of you at the same time as his tongue circles your clit, and you shiver. His tongue and his fingers work together to push you higher and higher as you struggle to keep from closing your thighs around his head. 

Fuck, he really is good at this. He slips another finger inside of you and you gasp, arching your back.

Frankie reads you like a book – he learns from every moan, every breath, and soon you’re almost there. You feel it, just out of reach as he holds you on the edge.

“Frankie, I’m– I’m gonna–” Your voice is breathy as you thrust your hips towards his mouth. He hold you down with one hand while he fucks you with the other.

He leans back for just a moment, moving his thumb up to replace his tongue, drawing gentle circles around your clit. “I know, querida. I can feel it. Dámelo.” (Give it to me.) He dives back in and opens his mouth against your pussy, and you cry out.

He hums, and you feel it through his tongue and his lips. He thrusts his fingers inside at the same moment and you feel yourself start to fall over the edge.

“Frankie–” You arch your back and tug at his hair. He suddenly moves his mouth downwards as his fingers take over teasing your clit, and your breath comes out like a sob when he pushes his tongue inside of you. “Yes, please–”

One more thrust of his tongue and a clever movement of his fingers and you’re gone. You rocket over the edge into an orgasm that feels years in the making, like Frankie has been stoking the fire and then set it ablaze for you now. You think you say his name, but you can’t be sure. Your entire body is trembling as it washes over you.

You take a great, heaving breath, and lift your head up to look for Frankie again. He has his chin resting on your pelvis, clearly waiting for you to come down. He’s smiling, eyes half open. His hair is a wild mess. His face glistens with evidence of where’s been.

He looks so fucking smug. You look at him and you feel something tug at your heart. 

“You’re fucking beautiful when you come, querida.” His lips are quirked in a half smile but his voice is deep, almost gravely. He dips down swiftly to press a gentle kiss against your clit, and your legs twitch. “Better than I ever imagined. Never seen anything so pretty in my life.”

You cup his face in your hand and smile. “Shit, you really are good at that.”

He tilts his head. “At what?”

You roll your eyes but indulge him. “At using your mouth.”

Frankie grins, clearly delighted. “Well, when you’re properly motivated, it’s easy to practice until you get it right.” He winks at you. 

You laugh and shake your head. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmm,” he hums as he pushes himself up, crawling over you on the bed. “Of course. And you know I have to keep my skills up. Keep practicing.”

“Is that an offer, Francisco?”

You feel him press his grin to your neck and you smile at the ceiling. “I’ll eat your pussy any time you like, querida. Just say the word.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Best thing I ever tasted. Only thing I want to do from now on, put my mouth all over you.”

You squirm a little, overwhelmed by his praise. “How are you still fully dressed?”

He laughs and sits back, straddling your hips. “Want me to strip for you baby?”

You nod and push at him lightly until he stands up. “Give me a show, Frankie.”

Frankie stands back and smiles, a little shy as he raises his hands to his buttons. “Am I supposed to dance?”

You tilt your head to one side and smile at him. “Frankie, you know I love the way you look. You could just pull your shirt off normally and I’ll be staring, totally distracted. It’s what happens every single time anyway.”

He furrows his brow. “How have we never noticed?” He’s deftly undoing his buttons now and you’re watching intently as each one reveals more of his chest to you.

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

He smirks as he shrugs his shirt off, and you bite your lip but keep staring at his arms anyway. 

“I mean, querida, how did we never notice we’ve been looking all this time? I mean, I know I was looking at you. Shit, the way you look in your bathing suit? Those little shorts you wear around the house on your days off?” He sighs, closing his eyes like he’s picturing it, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks. You laugh at yourself, just a little, because you’re sitting naked in front of this man and you still react to his teasing like this. “You’ve been killing me, hermosa. And you’re saying you’ve been looking at me, too?”

You reach for him as he undoes his belt and help him with the button and zipper of his jeans. “Maybe we were both too scared of getting caught. To see what was right in front of us.”

Frankie strips off his jeans and the sight of him in just his black briefs stops your breath. You reach out and run your hands down his broad chest and hips, sliding around the back to squeeze his ass in both hands. You grin up at him. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

He smiles back and steps closer. You can see how hard he is in his briefs and you move to tug at the bottom hem, hand on his thigh. “One last act in your show, Frankie.” You start to pull and he lets you, moving his legs apart to make it easier as you slide his briefs down his legs. His cock springs lightly from the waistband and your eyes widen.

You knew Frankie was big. You’ve been swimming together, after all, many times. His body isn’t a total mystery to you. You’ve also heard the guys teasing him for it. But you’ve never seen him hard.

He’s big. His cock is beautiful – long, yes, but really what’s blowing your mind is how wide it is. How much girth it has.

“Shit,” you breathe, and without your conscious input your hand moves from his briefs to his cock. You lightly brush your fingers down his length and smile as it sends a shiver up his spine. When you look up and meet his eyes they’re dark, and hungry. “Frankie, you’re huge.” You punctuate your statement with a firm grip of his cock, and his hips thrust forward as you slide your hand up and down, once. You watch as his eyes flutter closed and his mouth drops open.

“Fuck,” his voice is deep, deeper than you’ve ever heard it. “Yeah? Big enough for you, baby?” You can hear it in his voice again – he knows. He knows how big his cock is and you feel your arousal growing as you think about how he probably knows exactly what to do with it.

“Francisco.” He looks down to meet your gaze. He’s breathing hard already, cheeks tinged pink and mouth wide. “Fuck me.” You say it firmly, steady, no hesitation. A slow, cocky grin takes over Frankie’s face and your eyes widen.

“Querida, I will give you everything you want.” He crowds you back onto the bed, shifting so you’re lying in the middle with him hovering over you. You brush your hands across his shoulders and marvel at how beautiful he looks like this, holding himself up, surrounding you. The head of his cock brushes against your stomach and you both moan. “That’s all I want. All I’ve ever wanted. To give you what you want. Always.” He murmurs the last word into your throat as he runs his right hand down your side, fingers seeking out your pussy again. When he finds how wet you are, even more than before, he nips lightly at your jaw with a smile. “Shit. You think you can take it, hermosa?”

You nod, eyes falling closed. Frankie presses inside you again with two fingers and you sigh. “Let me open you up a bit, first. Get you ready.”

“Frankie–” you try to protest, hands tangling in his hair to urge him onward, and he chuckles, darkly. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, baby. Not ever. Let me take care of you.” You nod and let him work you open on his fingers, gasping every time he brushes against that spot inside of you that makes you see sparks. After a few minutes he’s thrusting three fingers in and out and the sounds of how soaked you are fill the room.

The feeling of him above you and around you is overwhelming. You run your hands up and down his arms and chest and marvel that you can, that you’re allowed to reach out and touch. Finally. After so long. 

It feels so good, you can���t wait any longer. “Now, Frankie, please–”

He nips at your shoulder again and curls his fingers inside of you. “Now, hermosa? Quieres algo?” (You want something?)

You poke him in the side and he laughs. You feel the love you have for his man start to well up inside of you.  “You know what I want, Frankie.”

“Mmm,” he hums and presses a line of soft kisses down your neck. “Quiero oírte decirlo, bebita.” (I want to hear you say it, baby.)

You nod and pull him into a short kiss. You hold him there, lips brushing yours, as you say, “I want you to fuck me, Frankie. I want your cock. I want you to stretch me open. I want to feel you, everywhere.” He shudders and you can’t tear your eyes away from the effect your words have on him. His arms tremble and his shoulders hitch up by his ears. His hips stutter forward and he presses quick kisses to your mouth and chin and neck and mouth again.

“Shit. I know you’re on birth control, baby, do you have a condom?” You both know how long it’s been since either of you had sex. He is your best friend, after all. 

You don’t hesitate. “Don’t need one.”

“You sure?”

“I just want you, Frankie. Always have.”

“Fuck,” he breathes the word into your mouth before pulling you into another kiss. “How’d I get so fucking lucky, huh?”

As he speaks, Frankie reaches down to spread open your pussy. He slides his cock against you, nudging your clit with the head. You pull him into another kiss. For a moment he just thrusts against you, and the slide of his length against you makes your head spin.

On the next thrust, he moves his mouth to your ear as he pulls his hips back. “You are so fucking beautiful, you know that? I can’t believe you’re here, with me. Can’t believe I get to touch you like this.”

The head of his cock notches against your entrance and you both suck in a sharp breath. 

“Fuck, querida, if I’d have known? That you wanted this?” He begins to thrust forward and you feel the head of his cock stretch you open. Your next breath sounds like a sob. “All I want is to take you apart. To make you feel so fucking good you can’t think of anything but my cock inside of you, my tongue on your pussy.” He thrusts inside shallowly, and you wrap your arms around his neck. He presses a kiss to your neck under your ear and you whine, tangling your fingers in his hair. 

“Look, querida.” He lifts up and looks down your bodies, pulling his hips up until just the tip is still inside of you. You stare. “Mira como me toma.” (Look how she takes me.) He thrusts back inside and you moan as you watch. He fills you up completely, this time, and you’re so fucking full you can barely breathe. You can feel every inch of him and it’s everything you’ve wanted. 

“Yes, Frankie, yes—“

“Yeah?” He finds a rhythm and you feel it start to build inside you again, climbing up your spine. “Así no? Así te gusta?” (Like that yeah? You like that?)

You nod, and he kisses you. His hips keep up their devastating rhythm and you try to rise to meet him. You can feel yourself getting closer, and Frankie must sense it, somehow, because he slides his right hand down to gently circle your clit. You arch your back at the touch and he slams into you again, hard. 

“Yes, I—“

“I know. I can feel it. Come on, baby. Come for me. Just like that.” 

And you do. When Frankie tells you to, you do — you feel it like a lightning strike down your spine. It washes out your vision and steals your breath. You cry out, maybe his name, maybe something wordless, and you come back to yourself and realize he’s murmuring in your ear as his thrusts pick up speed.

“… no sé cómo es posible que tengo tanta suerte. Que eres mía. Ay, hermosa, mi preciosa, mi— fuck—“ (I don’t know how it’s possible that I got this lucky. That you’re mine. Oh, beautiful, my precious, my— fuck—)

You tangle your hands in his hair again as you feel his hips stutter forward. “Yes, Frankie. Come for me, baby.”

He moans and thrusts forward again. You tug at his hair to pull his gaze up to meet yours. His eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open, wrecked. 

You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and murmur, “así amor así. Dámelo.” (Just like that, love. Give it to me.)

You watch as he thrusts forward one last time and his orgasm washes over him. It’s fucking beautiful. You’ve known him for so long and still you’ve seen so much of him tonight that you’ve never seen before. It’s overwhelming and you want more. You want everything. 

“Querida,” he breathes as he lets his head fall forward and gently rests his forehead against your own. “You are so fucking beautiful when you come.”

You laugh, poking him in the side. “You are too, baby.”

He smiles and kisses you softly. “I can’t believe how good that was. It’s gonna be hard to get out of bed, knowing what’s waiting for me.” 

You nod. You know exactly what he means. 

He lifts his hips to gently slide out of you and you gasp. “Sorry, querida, let me clean you up.”

“Hey, wait.” Before he can move too far away, you catch him and pull him so he’s leaning over you again on one elbow. You brush his sweaty curls off his forehead. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Frankie.” 

He smiles so wide his eyes crinkle and you feel your heart skip a beat. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, querida. I love you.” 

“I love you, too.”

...

a/n: Happy Valentine's Day! I hope you liked it, Jenn!!

taglist: @jupiter-soups @beardedjoel @morallyinept if you're on my taglist for maintenance request, let me know if you want to be tagged in general?

[chvoswxtch]

desire

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: now that the defenders of freedom had been caught, what's next for you and frank?

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of alcohol & grief, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 8.1k

a/n: the one you've all been waiting for. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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Considering the fact that your place was still an active crime scene and Homeland still needed to track down the rest of Steven’s dipshit goons to ensure there would be no more threats or attacks, Dinah wanted to take you to a safe house until the investigation was finished.

Frank, however, was not having any of that shit.

It was admittedly an ego boost watching Dinah and Frank lock into a heated staring contest while arguing about who got protective custody of you, and definitely amusing. But eventually, she gave into the stubborn brick wall that was Frank Castle, threw her hands up in total exasperation that was followed by a colorful string of adjectives thrown his way, and that was how you found yourself once again on the road with Frank. 

Initially when you noticed that Frank was driving in the direction outside of the city, perplexment weaved between your brows, but he quickly set your curiosity straight as soon as he noticed it blanketing your features. He didn’t even give you a chance to voice your inquisitions before explaining that he was taking you somewhere safe that no one else knew about.

That knowledge filled you with a bubbling sense of giddiness because getting to stay with Frank at his apartment was one thing, but getting to stay with him in a place that sounded private and secluded? Yeah, that was more than okay with you. 

The longer Frank drove, the more drastic the scenery changed, passing by in a blurry film reel on the other side of the passenger window. The clamorous and bustling streets of the concrete city faded away slowly and soon settled into quiet black asphalt that shrank to one lane on either side of the road. The millions of inhabitants of New York City seemed to melt away into the horizon in the rear view mirror of Frank’s truck, leaving the two of you the only souls for miles. The trees became more and more dense, creating opaque patches of foliage in golden ochre, rusty ginger, and spiced cranberry. In that moment, sitting in the passenger seat was the most at peace you had felt in almost seven months since the whole had nightmare began, and a lot of that peace had everything to do with the man in the driver’s seat absentmindedly tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the Bruce Springsteen CD currently playing.

After about two hours of driving and light conversation, Frank turned off the asphalt road onto an unmarked dirt path, and you turned your head to stare over at him in half-hearted suspicion while lifting a brow in silent questioning.

“You know, if you kept me alive this long just to murder me in the middle of the woods, that’s some serious dedication.”

Without missing a beat, Frank let out a dry chuckle.

“If I was gonna kill ya, I woulda started switchin’ your coffee out with decaf a long time ago.”

It was always a struggle not to laugh at Frank’s dry sense of humor. You tried not to give him the satisfaction of your amusement, but you found yourself giving in more and more lately. Letting out an overly dramatic sharp gasp while staring at him in exaggerated faux horror, you reached over and lightly smacked your palm against his firm bicep. 

“That is the most evil form of torture I have ever heard.”

Frank snickered deviantly, clearly pleased with himself, and the relaxed grin on his soft lips was stretched so wide that his lifted cheeks caused his eyes to crinkle in delight. For a moment, your breath caught in your throat at the sight. It never failed to render you speechless just how much lighter Frank looked when he smiled. Happiness looked so achingly beautiful on him. Every time you silently observed him, you always learned something new about Frank. He had deep set creases softly feathering around the edges of his eye sockets, proof that Frank had once been a man that smiled and laughed as easily as he breathed. You sincerely hoped that version of him that he seemed to keep buried so deeply was steadily rising back to the surface, and that these ephemeral glimpses you got would soon become permanent.

The gilded stream of midday light cast a velvet glow on Frank’s softened features, leaving you so completely entranced that you hadn’t even noticed the lack of motion when he parked his truck. 

“We’re here.”

The gruff alert of Frank’s voice induced you out of your bewitchment, and it was then that you suddenly noticed the quaint one story cabin nestled a few feet away in front of you.

It was composed of wood in a rich shade of burnt umber, and topped with a forest green downward v-shaped roof. There were a few worn steps leading up to an enclosed porch that appeared to snugly wrap around the cabin entirely, and two large square glass windows on either side of the front door that was painted the same shade of green as the roof. The curtains were drawn so you couldn’t see inside, but from the outside it looked incredibly cozy.

When you got out of the car, you noticed there wasn’t anything around at all but thick woods, and you silently wondered just how far back they went. There didn’t appear to be anyone or anything around for miles, and the only sounds you could hear were birds chirping and the worn wooden steps creaking under the weight of Frank’s heavy black boots. 

“Wow. Billy offers one hell of a retirement plan.” 

Following up the steps behind Frank’s large frame, a glimpse of black flashed in your peripheral vision, and you noticed there were security cameras installed on the left and right corners of the roof, along with what looked to be several motion detector lights along the top perimeter. Knowing Frank, there were probably far more around the entire cabin, and probably even hidden in the trees as well.

Frank paused for a moment at your comment, his dark brown eyes glossing over your presence at his right before taking in the sight of his own cabin like it was the first time he had ever seen it. 

“Nah, s’just somethin’ I never got ‘round to finishin’ ‘til a few months ago. Almost forgot ‘bout it. It was s’posed to be a surprise project for my-” 

The second Frank cut himself off, his body language changed entirely. His relaxed posture instantly stiffened, causing him to stand rigidly at his full height while his shoulders squared to their broadened width. The former calm expression he wore turned to stone right before your very eyes and he clenched his jaw in such a harsh line you could hear his teeth grind. Frank was intensely staring directly through the small six panel window that was in the top middle of the front door, like there was something on the other side that only he could see. 

Before you could react, he abruptly unlocked the front door and pushed it open with his left hand, clearing his throat and vaguely gesturing with his index finger before turning away to descend the stairs without giving you so much as a second glance.

“I’ll uh get the bags. Room at the end of the hall on the right is yours.”

The haunted look in Frank’s eyes reminded you of the night of the gala when he had told you that he had lost his wife. It was almost the exact same one. The thought briefly crossed your mind that he meant to say it had been a surprise project for her, but you quickly put it to rest. Frank clearly didn’t want to elaborate on the subject, and you knew better than to push. The best thing to do was give him his space and let him come to you if he wanted to. Still, it didn’t stop the journalist in you from running wild with questions, and also filling you with a slight sense of guilt that you were about to share a space with Frank that was meant to be something sacred and special between him and his wife.

»»———　　———««

The room at the end of the hall ended up being the master bedroom, to which you protested heavily against taking, but ultimately ended up being an argument you lost because Frank played dirty and distracted you with the delectable scent of homemade pasta sauce and a wine glass that was filled to the brim with bubbly pink.

While you sat at the kitchen island and sipped at your now half empty glass, you studied Frank with a narrowed gaze. A part of you was annoyed with him and yourself at how easily you fell into the trap he set. He knew you well enough to know Italian food was your weakness and that you were more compliant after being fed. But a bigger part of you was completely mesmerized by the way he gracefully navigated the open kitchen. 

There was a furrow of concentration nestled between his thick brows while he precisely measured specific spices to add to the saucepan that was layered with ruby sauce that he had garnished with freshly cut oregano and parsley. On the far back left burner was a boiling pot of penne pasta, and in front of that was a skillet of ground meat Frank had added diced onion and garlic to along with several other seasonings. He shifted between each pan with a quiet elegance that captivated you, and simultaneously irritated you, because there didn’t seem to be a damn thing the man couldn’t do.

“So you’ve been a secret chef this entire time and didn’t tell me?”

“You didn’t ask.”

Rolling your eyes at his quick retort, you cocked your head to the side slightly and focused on the way his back muscles strained against the fabric of the black henley he wore.

“I’m pretty sure I would’ve had an easier time getting nuclear launch codes from the Russian government than ever getting a straight answer out of you.”

Frank snorted at that, throwing you a quick humored glance over his broad shoulder.

“Hey, I give you answers.”

“Oh yeah, after nearly five months of stonewalling me. I didn’t even know what you did before becoming a bodyguard until you told me, what, a week and a half ago?”

Frank lifted one of his thick brows while turning his body slightly towards you.

“You never read my personnel file?”

Glancing down at your wine glass, you clicked your tongue against the inside of your cheek and gave a subtle shake of your head.

“Homeland wouldn’t let me have it.”

“And you let that stop you?”

There was a hint of tease in Frank’s deep voice, and you lifted your gaze to squint at him in annoyance noticing the cheeky smirk curling at the edge of his mouth.

“I’m a journalist, Frank. Not a hacker.”

“Ah, don’t give me that shit. That may be your job but it ain’t all you are. Besides, you’re a goddamn force to be reckoned with and a pain in the ass when you don’t get your way.”

A mischievous smirk slipped across your lips while you brought your glass up to your mouth, looking at Frank innocently over the rim.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Frank’s eyes seemed to wander over your face, stopping at the way the rim of the glass settled against your bottom lip, and when he met your eyes again, they were subtly darkened with that look that sent a tingle down your spine.

He silently stared at you for only a second longer before giving a slight nod, and you caught the wry smile slipping over his lips as he turned back to face the stove.

“Whatever ya say, sweetheart.”

You weren’t exactly sure what the source was of the heat you currently felt blooming in your cheeks: the wine you had consumed, the aroma of the fresh chili pepper Frank had just added to the sauce, or the way he had just looked at you.

Attempting to redirect your impure thoughts before the liquid courage could make you bold enough to voice them, you looked for something to distract yourself with. With your chin in your palm, you glanced down at the rouge tinted liquid and lazily swished it around in your wine glass. A thought quickly popped into your head that caused you to let out a soft snort.

“I didn’t take you as a rosé guy.”

Frank adjusted the heat on the sauce to a low simmer before turning to face you fully, wiping his large hands off on a sage green rag before tossing it over his right shoulder. He took a step over towards the island you were sitting at and wrapped his long fingers around his own wine glass, which looked ludicrously tiny in his hand, and took a long purposeful swig before licking his lips and arching one of his dark brows. 

“What? This is good shit.”

Reaching for the half empty bottle sitting on the island, you let out a soft laugh and went in for a refill. The relaxing effects of the wine had clearly already reached your brain, and before it could catch up with your mouth, you blurted out your next question like it couldn’t possibly ruin the mood.

“Was this your wife’s favorite?”

Frank didn’t clam up like you had expected given his behavior earlier. Instead, he glanced down at the glass in his hand for a moment before shaking his head with a tiny smile gracing the curve of his lips.

“Nah, friend of mine’s wife got me into this stuff.”

Frank took a moment to stare down into the glass, as if there was a fond memory appearing in the bubbles. Clearing his throat, he took another large swig of the wine and set the nearly empty glass down on the island.

“She uh…she liked white wine.”

For some reason, Frank’s casual admission sent a flush of velour warmth through you. Whatever barrier that had prevented Frank from speaking freely earlier seemed to be somewhat dismantled, and this was the first time he had ever spoken voluntarily about his wife that hadn’t left a heavy fog of grief lingering over either of you. A tender smile stretched across your lips as you lifted your glass up in a silent toast.

“My kinda woman. What was her favorite?”

Frank leaned over the island on his elbows, holding the delicate glass in both of his strong hands. The amber lighting in the kitchen made his eyes look like swirls of melted chocolate, and you resisted the urge to lean in closer when he finally looked at you with a faint smile tugging at the left edge of his mouth.

“Pinot Grigio.”

A huge grin stretched across your lips at his answer, and you shook your head faintly as you light heartedly pointed your right index finger towards Frank and lifted your glass to your lips.

“Oh I bet I could’ve easily converted her to a sauvignon blanc girl. There’s this brand from Chile that makes the best blanc, and she would’ve loved it.”

For a moment Frank simply observed you in silent fondness. When you set your glass down, his eyes flickered to his own, and he made a quiet noise of recognition in his throat before speaking quietly.

“She woulda liked you.”

That single sentiment held more weight and significant meaning to you than anything anyone else had ever said to you. A tight lump formed in your throat as those words echoed in your head, and you felt the overwhelming urge to make this intimate moment just as special for Frank, but with the alcohol in your system you couldn’t convey your feelings as eloquently.

“My mom would’ve annoyed you.”

Frank immediately started howling with laughter, turning his head to look at you with squinted eyes in incredulous amusement.

“What?”

“I mean she would have loved you, no doubt about that, but she probably would’ve annoyed you. And definitely hit on you. She was like me, only she had way less of a filter and absolutely zero shame. I think my being nosey and stubborn was genetic, but she took it to a whole other level. Did you know I used to be really quiet?”

Frank’s thick brows lifted in surprise, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond. The rosé was acting as a truth serum, and you couldn’t stop yourself from rambling.

“I was. I was very quiet, and extremely cautious, compliments of my careless mother. She wasn’t really careless, I mean she loved me, she was just a bit reckless, but not in a bad way. Like not a I-need-therapy-for-the-rest-of-my-life way but more of a she-had-me-at-sixteen-and-we-grew-up-together way. You know that I was such a bookworm that she practically begged me to be rebellious and hang out with someone other than her or the local librarian? And she’s the whole reason I wanted to go to Columbia, because she wanted to go to Columbia, but you can’t go to Columbia with a baby and no high school degree, and I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, and I probably should have shut up ten minutes ago, but anyway my mom would’ve liked you but definitely annoyed you more than me.”

Those newfound beloved crinkles were once again decorating Frank’s eyes as he chuckled heartily at your rambling. He downed the rest of his own wine before setting the empty glass down, flashing you a crooked grin as he loosely gestured in your direction with his chin.

“I’m sure I woulda liked Lorelai just as much as I do you.”

There was a skip in your heart’s rhythm, partly because he finally admitted that he liked you as a person, but more so when you realized that Frank remembered your mother’s name. It tugged at your heartstrings, because it was such a simple gesture, but also because it reminded you just how much you missed your mother. 

“I forget sometimes.”

Frank tilted his head to the side slightly when your soft voice settled in the space between the two of you, and his playful grin slowly vanished as he watched while you stared blankly down into your glass, clearly lost in your own thoughts.

“Forget what?”

“That she’s gone.”

There was a slight tremble to your voice as you looked up at Frank with a miniscule sad smile. The empathy in his eyes was almost too much to bear, and you had to look away to keep your composure from crumbling. Turning your head to the left, you took a moment to observe the layout and minimalist decor in the kitchen while letting out a shaky exhale.

“Sometimes I go to call her…just…on my way home from work, you know? Just to talk to her, hear the latest small town gossip, tell her about the latest coffee shop I’ve found that she absolutely has to try when she comes to visit next. There’s even been times I’ve left her voicemails. I’ll be so wrapped up in something and wanna vent to her, and then I’ll start to wonder why she hasn’t called back yet, and then it’ll just…hit me.”

Frank stayed quiet while he listened sympathetically, and the entire cabin was silent apart from the quiet sizzling coming from the stovetop until you gently spoke up again.

“Do you forget too?”

Finally looking over at Frank again, you watched as he lighty dragged his palm down the lower half of his face. While he glanced down at the smooth mahogany countertop, he clasped his large hands together while still resting on his elbows.

“I don’t forget she’s gone, but I uh…I’ve started forgettin’ things. I can’t remember what her perfume smelled like…or what her favorite song was. I can hear it sometimes, ya’know? Every now and then I get these…bits and pieces. Sometimes I can hear her hummin’ it in the kitchen, but it ain’t long enough to remember what song it was, ya’know? Everythin’ started gettin’ fuzzy…and I remember more things I wanna forget than things I actually wanna remember.”

There was a stretch of silence where neither of you spoke. Eventually, Frank straightened up and turned his back to you to walk back over towards the stove. Even though you knew it might not be the right time to ask, there was a question that had been burning in the back of your mind since the night of the gala.

“Frank?”

He hummed quietly in response, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder as he gave you his full attention.

“What was her name?”

The softness of your question clearly caught him off guard, and you could see the hesitation lingering in Frank’s eyes. Worried that you had crossed the line and completely ruined the moment, you were about to hastily backtrack and tell him that he didn’t have to answer when Frank let out a deep exhale through his large nose, touching his index and middle finger over his chest most likely where his wedding band sat beneath his shirt.

“Maria.”

A minuscule smile covered the edge of your mouth as you tilted your head slightly to the side and tried out her name on your tongue.

“Maria. Is this her recipe?”

Frank's eyes flickered over towards the pans and the pot of boiling pasta that were still on the stove. After a moment, he nodded his head and turned his attention back to you with a tender look in his eyes.

“Penne all'Arrabbiata con Manzo. Her grandmother was Sicilian, just like my parents were. She made this every time I came home from a tour.”

The significance and sentiment behind the recipe Frank was cooking made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your ribcage. Quickly topping off Frank’s empty glass with more wine, you carefully got down from the bar stool that you were sitting on and rounded the island to make your way over to Frank. As you offered him the half full glass of wine, Frank’s eyes flickered curiously between it and your own gaze while his large hand reached out to wrap his fingers around the glass. Smiling softly up at him, you lifted your own glass slightly in the air.

“Well then, to Maria.”

There was a sudden luminescence to Frank’s warm brown eyes, but you didn’t get a chance to study it long before he nodded slightly and his lips stretched faintly into a tiny smile as he delicately clinked his glass against yours and repeated your toast in a more delicate volume of his deep voice.

“To Maria.”

»»———　　———««

“You’re fired.”

Hearty laughter boomed from deep within Frank’s chest and echoed over the crackling firewood currently blazing. He adjusted his position on the couch a few inches away from you, his features highlighted due to the radiant flames cascading from the fireplace in a contorted expression of skepticism and entertainment.

“What? Why?”

“I have known you for seven months, Castle. Seven. Months. And I’m just now finding out you have the culinary skills of a five star chef. Unacceptable. Unforgivable. I’m calling Billy first thing in the morning.”

You couldn’t hardly get through your own sentence without bursting into a fit of laughter, and Frank was in no better shape as he threw his head back against the couch and clutched at his chest with his hand that wasn’t holding his third glass of wine. There were nearly three empty bottles between the two of you forgotten on the dining table, and this was the most loose you had ever seen Frank. Maybe you should get him tipsy more often.

“You can’t fire me.”

“And why not?”

“Cause I ain’t assigned to you no more, brat.”

While Frank teased you nonchalantly as he sipped at his glass and watched the flames dance across the firewood, his words instantly sobered you up. He was right. The Defenders of Freedom had been caught, Steven was facing trial, and there was no reason for Frank to stick around anymore. It was a revelation you had been trying to ignore for the past twenty-four hours. A wave of uncertainty crashed over you in that moment. What would happen between you and Frank? When would he get assigned to someone else? Would that take him far away from you? How long could you stay in this little bubble outside reality?

Glancing down at the wounds in your palm that had steadily begun to heal, you lightly traced your thumb over the raised irritated edges as a thought suddenly flashed across your mind.

“I never thanked you.”

Even though your voice was barely above a whisper, Frank caught it, and he turned his head to look at you intently with slightly confused brows.

“For what?”

Closing your eyes for a moment, you shook your head faintly before looking back at Frank with subtle remorse.

“For everything you’ve done for me. For saving my life, more than once, and-”

Frank instantly brushed off your gratitude with a shake of his own head, reaching over to place his glass of wine on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“It’s my job-”

“No. Your job was to keep me safe, but you did so much more than that. You dealt with all of my shit, fixed every problem I created, and even when Homeland pulled you away, you still showed up for me. Frank, I would be dead if it wasn’t for you. You saved me from those guys at the bar, you saved me from Cavella and Walker, and…you’re still saving me, even now. I could’ve gone to a safe house with Dinah, but you brought me here, even though I’m not your problem anymore-”

Frank reached for your glass of wine and firmly set it on the coffee table, effectively catching your attention while he started almost directly into your soul with a serious expression.

“Hey, you have never been a problem. Ever. You got that?”

There were so many emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for seven months that you hadn’t been processing, and now they seemed to be rising to a level you could no longer ignore. The verity in Frank’s voice nearly had tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, and you just wanted answers. Why did he care so much? Why was he still protecting you? Why were you here right now?

“Frank…you could’ve walked away. There were so many times you could’ve walked away. Why…why did you stay?”

A substantial weight felt like it had finally been lifted off your chest as you asked the one question that had been lingering in your bones for weeks now. Although that weight was replaced by a lead filled sense of dread while you waited with anxious anticipation for a response, knowing was better than not knowing. 

Frank’s deep brown eyes stared so fiercely into your own, that you felt vulnerably stripped bare despite the clothing covering your body. When he reached his left hand over to place on your jean clad thigh, he grasped it firmly and leaned in just close enough so that you couldn’t escape the enrapture of his gaze.

“I want you to listen to me, right now. I’m always gonna keep you safe, you got that? Job or no job.”

The intensity burning in his eyes and the dropped octave of his rough voice nearly stunned you silent. Your lips parted slightly as if to speak, but your fogged brain struggled to form a coherent sentence. This was the closest you had been to Frank since you had climbed onto his lap in his truck, and you were fighting so hard to not let history repeat itself. But that look…that one goddamn look you could never decipher was roaring fervently in his gaze again, and you were going absolutely mad not knowing what it meant.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you found yourself leaning in closer, staring deeply into Frank’s warm brown eyes with a pleading look reflected in your own desperate stare. You wanted to know why. You needed to know why. And you were begging Frank for a confession that wasn’t encrypted.

“Why?”

“Because you’re mine to protect.”

The possessiveness that dripped from Frank’s low voice had you abruptly clenching your thighs together, trapping his thick fingers between your weakened knees. If he minded the entrapment at all, he didn’t show it. The blaze of the fireplace was no longer what had the temperature steadily rising within your body, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Frank’s vigorous and unwavering stare. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, and even though you had a million questions clamoring through your brain, all you could manage to get out in a hoarse whisper was one you needed confirmation on.

“I am?”

Frank retracted his large hand from your thigh, raising it up slowly to carefully grab your face. A few of his long fingers curled around the back of your neck while his index and middle finger rested along the underside of your jaw, and his thumb pressed lightly against your chin. His heated gaze dropped to your lips momentarily before flickering back up to meet your eyes, and that fire in them was burning bright enough for God herself to see.

“You’re goddamn right.”

Without another word, Frank pulled you in for a searing kiss, pressing his soft lips against yours tentatively but with enough passion to make his answer crystal clear. A delicate noise of surprise sounded in the back of your throat, and for a moment you nearly stopped breathing. If that first kiss in Frank’s truck was a rare comet bursting across the sky, this one felt like a supernova erupting in a kaleidoscope of colors and stardust exploding across the expanse of the universe.

Even as he retracted his lips just a bit to stare deeply into your eyes to gauge your reaction, his hand gently cradling your face kept you firmly in place. All you could do was stare at Frank in complete stupefaction. Your lips were fervently tingling and your body felt like it had been struck by lightning. Frank’s eyes were searching yours for an answer he seemed to desperately need judging by the way his other hand lightly squeezed at your waist.

“If I’m crossin’ a line, you gotta tell me now. Cause I can’t go back, sweetheart.”

The tender emotion entwined within his words nearly made it sound like Frank was begging for your answer, and suddenly it all clicked. You could never figure it out before, but now as you stared at him in complete wonder and paid close attention to his display of vulnerability, you were finally able to decode that cryptic look in Frank’s eyes.

Desire.

“I don’t wanna go back.”

That breathless confession was all Frank needed, and he seemed to groan in relief when you surged forward to capture his lips with renewed vigor. Frank was so much more engaged in this kiss, and you took that as a good sign to give in to every single temptation. Before you could even think about climbing onto his lap, Frank was three steps ahead of you, and his large hands were firmly gripping onto your hips and effortlessly pulling you over to straddle his hips. Frank’s hands were everywhere; kneading at your denim covered thighs, gripping tightly onto your waist, carding his fingers through your hair and grasping at the back of your head to keep you as close as physically possible.

You cupped his face firmly in your hands and seductively swiped your tongue along his bottom lip begging for entrance, causing a low growl to resonate from deep within Frank’s chest, and his large hands suddenly squeezed your ass tightly through your jeans while you moaned when his taste met your tongue. The taste of Frank was much sharper this time, and you felt far more intoxicated by him than the three bottles of wine the two of you had consumed together.

Even with your chest pressed firmly against his own, it felt like you couldn’t physically be close enough. You wanted to be entirely consumed by Frank, to completely melt into the warmth of his skin and breathe his essence into your lungs. The synchronization of your lips and tongues molding together was impeccable, and the world outside ceased to exist while the two of you began to unravel one another.

An overwhelming surge of impatience had you nearly shredding his black henley with your nails while you fervently shoved it up his toned chest, eagerly caressing the scarred canvas of his tan skin with your fingertips like you had been daydreaming about doing since that night in the motel. He didn’t hesitate to teasingly brush his thumbs along the sliver of exposed skin above your hips before pushing your shirt up your waist and over your head. While you tore it off quickly and carelessly discarded it behind you, Frank dove in to attach his lips to the sensitive skin on your neck, dragging his warm and wet tongue along the column of it before gently biting down on the juncture above your collarbone.

A soft moan slipped past your lips and you instinctively rocked your hips against Frank’s lap, coaxing a deep grunt from his chest. He left a searing trail of kisses along your shoulder, the rough pads of his fingers softly tugging the straps of your bra down your arms before splaying both of his large hands against your lower back to pull you further against his own chest. Frank nuzzled his large nose along your neck and whispered huskily into your ear.

“This alright?”

“Yes.”

Unfiltered lust clouded your vision a deep shade of crimson, and you blindly clawed at Frank’s belt while he continued his blazing path of kisses along your jawline and down your neck towards your chest. All of a sudden, his large hands clasped around your wrists gently to halt your movements, and he pulled back a bit to stare deeply into your eyes while panting slightly.

“Sweetheart, there ain’t no rush.”

“Frank, please.”

The desperate plea that sounded from your lips seemed to ignite a brand new fire within Frank, and your consent shredded that last strand of hesitation that was holding him back. He placed his large hands against your ass and lifted you effortlessly in the air, and you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. Frank easily navigated around the coffee table and slowly knelt down on the fluffy cream colored rug in front of the fireplace, carefully laying you down onto your back. This time when you tugged the leather of his belt away from the buckle, he didn’t stop you, and instead his own deft fingers made lightning work in ridding you of your own jeans.

Slipping one of his hands underneath your back, he easily unhooked your bra with his thumb and index finger, and the second your bare chest was exposed to him, Frank firmly grasped one of your breasts in his calloused hand and took your peaked nipple into his mouth. Your lips parted widely feeling the jolt of pleasure that had you arching your back slightly when he swirled his warm tongue around the sensitive and stiff bud while gently sinking his teeth into the flesh of your breast. 

The sensation elicited a series of breathless whimpers to leave your mouth, and Frank grunted lowly in response as you rolled your hips upwards in search of friction, feeling the heavy heat of his hardened cock against your lower stomach through the thin cotton of his briefs. It was a marvel you hadn’t flooded the cabin with how turned on you currently were, and this wasn’t even scratching the surface of what Frank was going to do to you. You gripped at his bulging biceps, his broad shoulders, dark tufts of his disheveled hair, anything you could get your hands on to keep him close to you. 

Frank began to slowly descend your body, placing his hands firmly on your sides while leaving warm and wet open mouthed kisses down your stomach, even licking a teasing bold stripe above your belly button. The sight alone nearly made your eyes roll into the back of your head and caused you to whine softly, knowing exactly where his next destination was. But as much as you wanted to have Frank’s mouth on you, and God did you want it, you weren’t sure you could stand another second of not knowing what it felt like to have him inside you.

After he slipped your panties down your legs and tossed them aside, you gave his messy cropped curls a gentle tug to get his attention before he could spread your thighs and settle his broad shoulders between the apex of them. Frank glanced up to meet your gaze, his warm brown eyes nearly as black as the coffee he’d consumed this morning due to how wide his pupils were blown open. The hunger eclipsing them caused you to shudder, and you took a mental image of the sight of him nearly naked between your thighs staring at you like a ravenous wolf salivating at the sight of a vulnerable lamb.

“Please, Frank…I need you. I wanna feel you now…please.”

The two of you seemed to be stuck in the same conundrum, caught in tandem between wanting to savor the moment you had both waited so long for, and also wanting to give into the impulses of your magnetizing desire.

As much as you could see in his hungry expression that he wanted to take his time, to devour you slowly and worship every inch of you, the distress dripping from your breathless plea triggered his own raging need, and he silently obeyed while moving upwards again to hover over your body, capturing your lips in a deeply passionate kiss while you ardently pushed his briefs down his hips and off completely. Frank settled between your hips, displacing his heavy body weight by supporting himself on his forearms that were locked on either side of your head. You were completely caged in and at his mercy beneath him, but that was exactly where you wanted to be. 

Frank searched your gaze ardently once again for any sign of hesitation, his dark eyes roaming up and down your face before his tongue quickly darted out to wet his lips.

“We can call it here, ya’know? No hard feelin’s. I can-”

Reaching a hand up to gently hold the side of his face, you placed your thumb against his plump lips to cut off the velvet timbre of his whisper.

“Frank, I want this. I want you. But if you don’t-”

“I do. You got no idea how much I do. But…I want it to be right, yeah?”

A gentle smile covered your lips while gazing up at him in complete adoration.

“Doesn’t this feel right?”

Frank’s eyes flickered between your own and he subtly nodded his head, glancing down at your lips briefly before looking directly into your eyes again.

“Yeah…yeah it does.”

Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a sensual kiss, and the second he nudged the blunt head of his thick cock within your entrance, a sharp gasp flew past your lips and it felt like all the wind had been knocked right out of your lungs. He groaned quietly and nuzzled his large nose against the column of your neck, firmly grasping at your thigh and pulling your leg up and around his waist while he pushed in deeper slowly, one inch at a time.

While your nails instinctively dug fiercely into the muscle of his shoulders, no doubt leaving deep maroon crescent shaped indentations behind, Frank paused for a moment and snaked his hand down between your bodies, lightly brushing the rough pad of his thumb in lazy circles over your clit to help your body relax. You had been soaked through your panties from the moment your lips met, but Frank’s girth wasn’t one your walls had accommodated before, and he did his best to ease the sting of the burning stretch with stimulated pleasure.

“Frank…”

As soon as your hips connected completely and Frank was fully nestled within your tight heat, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head, and your jaw became completely unhinged as you let out a smooth legato moan. You felt Frank’s body tense above you while he buried his face into your neck, letting out a quiet hiss as he breathed out a shaky deep exhale.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, sweetheart.”

“Oh my God…Frank-”

“I know baby, I know. Gimme a second.”

You don’t know how long it was before Frank finally started moving his hips. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. All you knew was that you had never felt so full and so complete in your entire life. 

Letting out a quiet shudder, Frank slowly retracted his hips just a bit before cresting against you once again like a gentle tide. He removed his face from your neck so he could stare down into your eyes to watch your face, and you gazed up at him with wide-eyed passion and marvel. You brought your other leg up to also wrap around his waist and wrapped your arms securely around his neck, trapping Frank against your body just as much as you were beneath his. 

Frank reached between your chests with his right hand and gripped his wedding band between his thumb and index finger, tossing it and the chain over his back so there was nothing separating the two of you, just his heated skin pressed firmly against yours. Bringing your hands upwards, your trembling fingers weaved through his hair, tugging somewhat roughly at the messy cropped dark strands on top of his head when he began to languidly increase his pace.

It was like you couldn’t speak. Your mouth hung open while you stared up into Frank’s warm brown eyes that seemed to gleam from the amber glow of the fire, but nothing came out except echoes of the pleasure he handcrafted. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, watching in awe as his plump lips parted from panting heavily, his eyes becoming hooded from streams of ecstasy racing through his bloodstream. He gazed down into your eyes in complete adoration, gently stroking his index and middle finger down your cheekbone delicately as you stared up at him with parted lips and pleading eyes. 

Frank brought his left hand up to gently brush your hair away from your forehead, cradling the back of your head while his right one came up once again to gently grab your face. Although this time, his index finger rested along your jawline while his thumb and other fingers laced around your throat carefully, which nearly sent you into a frenzy. He leaned in to teasingly slip his tongue into your mouth, kissing you with such ferocity as if he craved the very breath in your lungs.

Frank vacillated his hips repeatedly against your own in a steady rhythm, but with a meticulous precision that revealed new depths with your body even you weren’t aware of. Every sensual thrust wound that tense coil within you tighter and tighter, and it was only a matter of time before you erupted into gratified pieces of confetti. Reaching a shaky hand up to grip onto the back of his neck, your fingertips vibrated as they brushed over the close shaven hair on the back of his head, and you pulled him down forcefully for another deeply passionate kiss. 

Only when your lungs began to burn due to lack of oxygen did you finally break apart. He leaned in to press his forehead against yours, gazing so deeply into your eyes you swore he could see right into your soul. You stared back up into Frank’s eyes as yours became glossy due to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure you were experiencing. His coarse grunts and reverberating groans echoing in your ears had your toes curling, and as your mouth hung open in silent begging, you nodded swiftly with an expression that let Frank know you felt it too.

“Please…please…”

That familiar bubble of euphoria was starting to expand wider and wider within your lower belly and you weren’t sure how much longer you had before it burst. The way Frank fit perfectly within your body was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, and you were stuck on the cusp of never wanting it to end, but also wanting to see just how far it could go. You had never been with someone that seemed to be so finely in tune with your body, or that genuinely cared about your satisfaction, but Frank was treating your pussy as if he had designed it specifically for himself. The realization of knowing you wouldn’t have to finish yourself off later like you had to with your exes was a welcomed relief, but not knowing what brink of indulgence Frank was about to catapult you over was exhilarating. 

“Frank…Frank…”

“S’alright, baby, I know. Let me have it, yeah? C’mon baby, let go for me.”

A soft whimper slipped past your lips. You were so close, and God you wanted so badly to jump head first into the free fall. But a tiny part of you felt frustrated because you wanted to witness Frank free fall too. You wanted to see him let go, hear his praises of your name, and be coherent enough to feel Frank lose himself.

But you would have to wait your turn, because Frank was sending you barreling towards the edge of an orgasm with every punctual and powerful snap of his hips, and you had no choice but to surrender to the heat of his body enveloping yours in a cocoon of pure warmth and safety. 

Frank grabbed both of your smaller hands and laced your fingers together, giving them a tight squeeze as a tangible reminder he was right there with you. He pinned them gently on the soft rug above your head, his pace becoming a bit sloppy as he began to lose his own composure. 

“Look at me, sweetheart. Let me see them pretty eyes, c’mon. Let me see ‘em.”

You struggled to keep your eyes open until you physically couldn’t, wanting to witness every second of Frank’s own impending climax contorting his features as he fought to control himself until you were ready to let go. 

“There ya go, attagirl. Let go for me, sweetheart. S’alright, let me have it, yeah?”

A symphony of his name played from your lips at a steady crescendo until it filled the entirety of the cabin, and all at once a flash of white exploded behind your eyes as you free fell through space and time, floating in a cloud composed of Frank’s honeyed praises of your name and delicate sweet nothings. You’d given yourself powerful orgasms before but you had never felt something so intense as the delectation Frank created. It felt like you were floating between the astral space between Heaven and Earth, and you weren’t sure you could find your way back to your physical body again.

There was a faint amber glow flickering across your closed lids, and as you slipped in and out of coherence, you felt soft lips delicately pressing against your forehead and the edge of rough fingers gently stroking along your cheekbone lovingly. You didn’t want to move, you weren’t even sure if you could, but there was one thing you did want.

“Frank?”

The voice that resonated in your ears was fuzzy and distant, and it didn’t even sound like it belonged to you. A strong pair of arms wrapped securely around you, pulling you in from your stranded orbit closer towards where you were meant to be, and Frank’s soothing gruff voice quietly dripped a sacred promise into your ear.

“M’here.”

The hypnotic lullaby of his heart’s rhythm tethered you back to the dreamlike reality of Frank holding you against his chest, and that was all you needed to slip away under the blanket of stars that were dancing behind your eyes.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[soapywankenopy]

SDV car headcannons

[this gets pretty specific because i've had way too much time to think about it]

1. Harvey

Harvey drives an old, beat-up red Ford Ranger. It's a standard transmission, and the clutch is super finicky, so when he tries to drive other cars, he has a bad habit of shoving in the clutch too hard (or if it's an automatic, slamming on the break, thinking it's the clutch). It was a gift from his parents when he started med school. It was old when they bought it, but Harvey does his best to maintain it. He's not a "truck guy," but he changes his own oil and keeps it running well. He would like to buy a Subaru because quote, "they're very safe cars," but he doesn't use his truck a lot as it is, so he doesn't see a need to get a new car.

2. Leah

Leah drives a silver Subaru Baja. You can not convince me otherwise. She views cars as a necessary evil. It wasn't really all that useful in the city, but she's glad to have it now that she lives in Pelican town. It's well-loved, and it's pretty beat-up, but Leah says it works fine for what she needs it for.

3. Shane

He drives a 1999 Ford Taurus in that weird pinky-gold color. It smells like pizza and pepper poppers, and there are feathers in the backseat. Sometimes, he'll let Jas sit on his lap in the driver's seat and let her steer while he works the pedals. Mayor Lewis caught them once and was not happy. Shane does it anyway because it makes Jas happy.

4. Sebastian

He drives a motorcycle, lol. I admittedly do not know very much about motorcycles, but it looks like a blue Kawasaki Vulcan to me, but idk. (If you know more about motorcycles, feel free to give your two cents)

5. Sam

Sam does not have his own car, but he frequently borrows the family van. It's a silver 2003 Honda Oddysey. The van lands him with driver duty for the band and their equipment.

6. Elliott

Elliott disagrees with cars ideologically. He had a grey 2004 Mitsubishi Outlander that he inherited from his aunt. He sold it before he moved to Pelican town. He thinks it's more romantic to walk everywhere, but if you ask him why he walks everywhere, he'll say, "Because of the environment."

7. Penny

Penny doesn't drive. Pam tried a million times to teach her, but Penny just doesn't want to. She doesn't trust herself with such heavy machinery.

8. Maru

Maru does not have a car but will borrow Robin's work truck if she needs to. Sebastian definitely taught her how to ride a motorcycle. One of her many ongoing projects is a custom bike for Sebastian. Demetrius was very insistant that she learned to drive stick.

9. Abigail

Abigail does not know how to drive. Pierre was too busy, and Caroline never felt the need to teach her. She's happy to explore by foot, so it doesn't really bother her.

10 & 11. Emily & Haley

Their parents bought them a 2012 light green Toyota Prius to share. Haley thinks it's cute and Emily likes that it's a hybrid. Haley says eventually she might buy a blue Volkswagen Bug.

12. Alex

Alex doesn't drive and it's a sore subject for him. Don't bring it up. He might end up crying. He's always said that he would want a green Dodge Charger as soon as he learns to drive.

I have more headcannons about the other characters, so I may put them in another post

[petitprincess1]

Random, but I gotta get this out before me head explodes:

So, I had a dream of how King's Tide would end. Let's say that everything worked as it did, except Collector took away Belos's powers and turned him back into a human. Somehow, during all the madness, Luz and Belos end up getting knocked into the portal. Ofc, it's only there for one trip. The pain of the Draining Spell has already been reversed by the Collector. Luz is panicking and Belos is slightly joyful about being in the Human Realm, but then immediately gets pissed when he realized his work was never done. His staff got pushed inside the portal by Collector, so he uses it again. She tries to persuade him all "Hey, hey! You wouldn't shoot a defenseless, small, teenage....." She then stops when she sees Belos raise an eyebrow at her and dashes off into the woods.

Luz continues running away as Belos chases after her, shooting more of the artificial magic at her as she tries to get away. She goes towards a road and continues to run across it, hoping to lose him. However, everything suddenly becomes slow as a truck begins speeding toward her. Luz simply turns her head towards the headlights and her eyes widen, making her think that her life can't end here. It just can't! Not with everyone suffering in the Demon Realm.

As the truck tries to brake, Luz suddenly levitates and gets pulled back to the side of the road. She breathes heavily as she holds onto whoever's arm is around her and turns to see Belos, staring in complete shock. He doesn't know what else to say except "What is....*that*?" Luz then looks back at the truck as the driver comes out and profusely apologizes to her and her "grandfather". She takes a deep breath and asks Belos "So....still need that guide?"

This is how the two slowly get to know each other and somewhat bond. They get close but in a frenemy kind of way. Like you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours kind of truce. Belos teaches Luz more about the sigils, while Luz teaches Belos about the Earth.

Belos's biases get challenged as he learns more about how Earth has changed and even Luz's gets challenged, as she learns slowly about Belos's past. Even though she does not forgive him, she understands that it's not like her books. It's not nearly as straight and narrow as it is to say someone's evil. There were complexities and reasons for actions, none justifiable but still. It makes things more complicated for her when she realizes that anyone can go down this path.

....Insert people loving Belos's staff and cosplay x3

Idk if ANY of this makes any sense or even is remotely good. But it sounds like fun and a way to get to know a more "human" Belos. He probably would still die in the end, but I feel like it would come from a sense of closure than defeat. Plus, bonus suffering when they get back as he tries to kill Luz once more after the Collector takes over him, but then stops when he sees Caleb's ghost protecting her.

[blughxreader]

What would an escape attempt look like for the dark web yandere? I imagine it would take a looooot of planning and getting him to lower his guard.

Yandere OC…!

Andre: Dark Web Yandere

Violence level: 9/10

Escaping him would simultaneously be easy and impossible.

Easy, because he’s insufferably arrogant and can’t fathom a reality in which you outsmart him. There’s plenty of loose-ends in his security, and he gets engrossed in his work to the point where he won’t notice you missing for half an hour.

Impossible, because even if you do escape, you have to navigate a foreign land surrounded by people who recognize Andre as the person who provides many jobs. You don’t have a single ally within a 30 mile radius. Even if the locals don’t know your relationship with Andre, word would get back to him very quickly.

Your plan would be to gain as much trust as possible. It would take months of careful navigating, of learning his likes and dislikes, of studying his cameras and habits. He’s careless with information around you, so acting innocent while letting him talk is the easy part.

Over time, he would grow lazy with you. Punishments would fall off and you’d be able to wander around the house while he’s busy. Each time you return with a good mood, he’d reward you with more freedom. All be expects is your doting devotion.

There’s no way for you to contact the outside world until you escape, though. He has some of the highest grade security around his electronics, so it would be impossible for you to plan past your initial escape.

When the time comes for you to leave, it’s a race against the clock. You escape with minimal commotion and make a dead sprint through the trees. His house is well concealed by nature, so you can find immediate cover from his cameras. Afterwards, you follow a road to a city, trailing along the outskirts. This takes miles of running and walking.

By the time you make it to the outskirts of the city, you’re exhausted and dirty. You have no way to ask for water, and your attempts at begging are immediately rushed off by the busy city folk. They see beggars every day, and don’t consider you any different.

Within the hour, your face is plastered on every television screen and telephone, an amber alert calling for your immediate arrest. The only way you can escape at this point is to sneak your way into the bed of a truck, but you’d run the risk of suffocating from the heat.

It won’t be long until you resort to theft for water and food, after which you’d be apprehended by locals.

You wait in a jail cell for him to arrive. The minutes seems to be seeping away your life, and when your cage door finally opens, he’s there. His face is flat, his appearance unbothered due to his leisurely pace at collecting you.

He wordlessly gestures for you to take his hand. When you step closer, the glint in his eye sharpens to something lethal. His hand around yours is like a shackle, not strong enough to cause pain but unrelenting in hold.

When you’re in the car, he smiles wryly. Lowly, so the personal driver can’t hear, he says, “Have fun?”

You can’t stop trembling. You shake your head no, throat too tight to speak.

He brings your hand to his lips and places a chaste kiss on your knuckles, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes. There’s a promise in the silence, and a renewed, evil spark in his eyes you haven’t seen since you first arrived.

Notes: There’s a lot to be imagined, but in short you’re fucked 💗 Thank you to @l0sercat @teachillvibes & @yes-ter-night for the name suggestions!

Link to Masterlist, where you can find the original and all asks!

[originalaccountname]

Do you have any thoughts or insights about tanizaki? We’ve known him for so long but I feel like I still know little to nothing about him 😭

That was the truth. He had made it this far in life because he was easily swayed by others. He went along with Kunikida’s scheme because he was asked to, and he was going to play the bomber because that was the role shoved onto him. Despite having a slightly bizarre skill, he wasn’t great in combat like the other agents, nor was he especially cunning. Tanizaki didn’t have any mortal enemies, nor did he have a dark past or any trauma. He was an ordinary guy. The only thing he really even wished for was his little sister’s happiness. - A Day at the Detective Agency (from The Untold Origins of the Detective Agency light novel)

Tanizaki sees himself as a pretty average guy, as someone without a notable past or fancy skills... and as a pushover. He doesn't really have convictions besides "Naomi" and goes along just about anything. But...

Tanizaki is the person who comes the closest to “evil” among all the Detective Agency employees. This is what I always tell everyone involved in this work. [...] [...] Tanizaki hit the enemy with the truck of a civilian who happened to pass by. By doing that, the truck would be completely destroyed and the driver would not be able to come out intact. But Tanizaki couldn’t care less about such things. Because for him, justice, morality or peace for the people, all come after his “sister”. - Asagiri, for the bsd expo (source and complete translation)

Tanizaki is canonically leaning on the "evil" side of bsd's grey morality. Since he has no bigger motivation than keeping Naomi safe, he'd do just about anything for her, no matter the price. He is in a good place, being at the Agency, where he is surrounded by people who do want to uphold great ideals and help others. However, he was also very quick to offer himself up as tribute to be transferred to the Port Mafia in Yosano's place. Again, he's a pushover at heart and lets himself drift around as the people around him see fit.

Naomi being his "sister" is probably a cover of some sort, since the book she's based on had exactly that (a scandalous marriage hidden behind a false, more familial relationship). Even our Naomi points out that she and Tanizaki look nothing alike (while groping him) and seems to make a show of their supposed relationship. There's no way they are actual blood siblings, and there definitely is a story behind that. There's also that book Naomi was making her husband, who was obsessed with her, do whatever she pleased. It matches our Tanizaki's pushover nature and our Naomi's assertiveness, at least as inspiration.

That's about as much of an input we have of him at this time, but Kenji's backstory was just revealed, so surely Tanizaki's turn will come... his ability came from somewhere, he met Naomi somewhere, he got into the ADA someway/somehow... and even if it's ultimately not that eventful... well... characters can get their trauma during the story, instead of before...

[jungle-angel]

Menaces to Society (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: You thought your boys were feral as children......wait until they turn twenty one

Warnings: Perry slander, Tillerson slander, taking a leak on somebody’s truck for revenge, drunken shenanigans etc. 

Tagging: @sebsxphia @lewmagoo @bradleybeachbabe @nobody7102 @creativitybeware​ @rhettabbotts​

The group of boys had all gathered at the Handsome Gambler, crowding around the bar as their favorite music blasted from the jukebox in the corner. After weeks spent on midterms and constant studying, the boys of the Delta Tau Epsilon Fraternity were more than happy to be blowing of steam, among them, Tatum and Tanner Abbott and Colt Tillerson. 

“CHUG IT!!!! CHUG IT!!!! CHUG IT!!!” the boys chanted as they lifted Tanner up by his legs for the kegstand challenge.

Tanner took in as much as he could, the bar owner timing him as his frat brothers cheered him on. Finally, he swallowed the last little bit before Jimmy Peterson, the bar owner, clocked him in and put his time record up on the chalkboard. 

“You my man,” Tate Dutton said, clapping a hand on Tanner’s shoulder. “Are the fucking kegstand CHAMP!” 

Tanner and the other frat brothers cheered loudly as Bo Andreola, one of the football players, lifted him up onto his broad, husky shoulders. Around 1:30, Jimmy announced it was closing time, only to be cued by the playing of Luke Bryan’s “Time To Take My Drunk Ass Home”, the boys and all the bar patrons singing along like a bunch of screeching seagulls. 

Out of the bar they stumbled, Tatum, Tanner, Colt, Tate and Jake Dutton, Joey Wheeler and a few others heading to the parking lot. “Alright fuckers,” Tatum slurred. “Let’s get us home, I’m drivin.” 

“Uh the fuck you are!” Danny Gonzales told him. “You’re drunker’n I am. I’ll call my brother.” 

Danny luckily had his brother, Antonio, on speed dial. Antonio never really drank and thus had become the designated driver along with three others. Unfortunately for them, Antonio was across town and wouldn’t be able to pick them up for at least a half hour. 

They wandered up and down the streets, looking for a place to wait it out, when they spied two familiar vehicles parked on the curb. “Oh shit,” Tatum muttered after letting out a rather rude burp. 

“Wassup?” Joey asked him. 

“You know who’s trucks those are, right?” 

“Aw shit,” Joey answered when he came to the realization. “That’s Trevor and Perry’s trucks.” 

“What are those fuckin assholes doin in our neck of the woods?” Jake questioned. 

“Probably doin each other in an alley somewhere,” Tate chuckled. 

Tatum and Tanner gave each other a look as soon as an evil little germ of a thought began to bloom in the back of their heads. Even Colt could tell what they were thinking without even saying a word. “You know what we gotta do right?” Tatum said. 

“Better do it now while we’re loaded,” Tanner told him. 

Tatum readily instructed for him, Tanner and Colt to take Trevor’s truck while the others could have at Perry’s. “Alright boys,” Tatum announced. “This one’s for Dad.” 

All at once the boys unzipped their flies and relieved themselves right there on the horrible men’s dirt spattered trucks, laughing the whole entire time. Too bad Jaime’s car hadn’t been nearby. Tate, Jake and Joey would have absolutely loved the thought of taking that one on as well. Bo and Danny held up their phones, taking a video of the drunken frat boys for later. It wasn’t long either before they were taking photos of their little graffitied creation, the words “Fuck you Perry” and “Fuck you Trevor” having been inscribed in the dirt with their own streams while the boys pointed at it and made stupid faces or stupid poses with it. 

The sudden blurt of police sirens and the flash of lights made them all straighten right up. Sheriff Joy hopped out onto the curb and shut the doors to the cruiser, sighing and laughing all at once when she saw the culprits. 

“Oh God, not you idiots again,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“HEY AUNT JOY!!!!!!” Tatum and Tanner greeted loudly and happily. 

**************

“Rhett can you get the door?!” you called from upstairs. 

Rhett groaned and rose from the couch, straightening his reader glasses on his nose before making his way to the door. When he opened it, he was a little less than pleased to find Joy on the porch.

“Hey Rhett,” she greeted. “I just picked up your little miscreants outside the bar and came to drop them off.” 

“Oh God, what’d they do now?” Rhett groaned. 

“Check their phones, I guarantee you there’s photos,” Joy laughed before heading back to the cruiser. 

“Oh damnit,” Rhett muttered. “Darlin, ya’ll better come down here, it happened again!” 

***************

The boys were absolutely silent as Rhett scrolled through Tatum’s phone and his camera roll, his face contorting into confused and wide-eyed expressions every so often. 

“So let me get this straight,” Rhett said, breaking the long, pregnant pause that had come over the kitchen. “You idiots were loaded beyond all human reasoning, were waiting for a ride home and decided to take a leak on a vehicle?” 

Tatum burped again. “Yep.” 

Rhett bit his lip, trying hard not to laugh, looking at you as if you’d break first. “Alright, you jackasses go upstairs and make yourselves cozy, I’ll discuss this with your mother.” 

The boys all stumbled up the stairs, trying their best not to wake Amy and Jeff’s baby who had just fallen asleep in yours and Rhett’s room. “Are they in trouble?” you asked him. 

“I’ll be nice and let’em off the hook this time,” Rhett chuckled. “Tomorrow when they’re all hungover is a completely different story.” 

[latelyloxiv]

Cannot believe I never shared June on here, she breasts so boobily and is def a fav of mine to draw because she's so expressive 🔥

June's a long-haul truck driver from southern Alabama who becomes an integral part of the 15 mill universe in the 90's. Her and Karla end up becoming a casual couple at some point down the line when they're both working for Biz and company.

Karla belongs to @pd-evil.

(she/her)

[aokoaoi]

▎chapter three : raccoon police department.

▎content warning : gore, blood, violence, character death, resident evil 2 spoilers.

▎character pairing : leon kennedy x fem!reader.

▎taglist : @phoenix666stuff .

"ATTENTION ALL CITIZENS;"

The sudden announcement from the radio catches everyone in the cars attention. Claire, who was at first slumped against the door beside her, the side of her forehead digging into the glass uncomfortably, was now wide awake– paying attention to whatever the man was announcing.

With one hand, you held up your fingers to the radio, turning on the volume as you reached the city.

"Due to the citywide outbreak, you are advised to take shelter at the Raccoon City police station. Free food and medical supplies will be provided to everyone in need."

"God, this is unreal.." Claire mutters.

You bit your lip in worry as your eyes casted around the city's situation, feeling yourself warm up uncomfortably. If this outbreak was city wide, that means your family was no where near safe. Just the idea of your parents hurt or harmed made your grip on the steering wheel tighten. Had they perhaps turned into those.. things..?

"You two are headed to the station right?" You turned your head around to look at them, watching as they nodded as an answer. "The stations not much farther, I'll drop you both there."

Both looked confused as to what you were implying, "You're not coming with us?" Leon questioned, making you indistinctivly losen your grip on the wheel.

"I'm heading home, I need to know if they're safe." It was recklessly dangerous and stupid, but they're your family.

Knowing who 'they' is, Leon shakes his head. "It's too dangerous, come with us instead." He protests, shoving another plan right in your head instead. You shook your head immediately as soon as his words came out of the dirty blonds mouth, exhaling heavily.

The two newly acquaintances of yours only watched you from the back, noticing how you've tensed up and how you're mannerisms looked like you were beginning to get frustrated.

The car comes to a stop when you've reached a barricaded road, with cars lined up unorderly on the other side. You cursed under your breath, finding this whole thing severely frustrating. Your house was far from where you are, if you're walking there you might as well just kill yourself right now.

"Fucking hell. Looks like we're walking.." the two heard your exhausted sigh, watching as you rubbed your face with the palm of your hand.

"More like running." You turned to where the two were looking at, noticing two undead feasting on another human. You pursed your lips, brows furrowing in annoyance. You hear shuffling behind you, and you see the two pulling out their guns.

"Good call." Leon curtly nods before a yell comes out of his mouth as an undead bangs on his door, followed by Claire who gets the same fate. You watched as your car gets surrounded by undead, ignoring the rotting cannibal banging its head on your window while you tried to steady your breathing.

Claire yells out your name, "You gotta back up!" She orders you, nervously scooting away from the door next to her as she was now in between the passenger and drivers seat. You did as what you were told, revving the engine and trying to back up. The whole this was hopeless as those things were in all areas outside your car, soon if you don't thing fast they'll be inside.

"What the—!?" Claire yells, looking behind her when she noticed the lights flashing. You turned to look behind as well, noticing the large truck you passed by from earlier. And it was now heading towards you.

"Fuck! Get out!" You hissed out, unlocking the doors and shouldering your door to get it open. The undead were jamming their weights and strength on all your doors, leaving you and the other two stuck inside. The truck was getting closer and closer, and in the midst of your panicking Leon yells out a loud 'hold on.'

You did as what he told, bracing yourself the impact heading. The truck suddenly swerved in another direction, but it still crashed into the side of your car. You yelled a groan at the impact, your car getting flung forward at the impact. You crashed in another car, providing another impact that send you back to your cushioned seat, knocking the air out of your lungs.

Kicking your door open, you threw yourself out of the car, clothed knees scraping on the rough road. You stabilized yourself up, coughing roughly as you held your stomach. You notice Leon not so far from you, and upon seeing you he looks at the gas truck in front of you.

"Shit, get down!" He yells, running towards you and shielding you from the explosion the gas tank causes as soon as Leon reaches you. A pained yell escapes you when your back collides on the car behind you, grunting when you fall right on top of Leon who rescued you from getting barbecued.

Leon loses his hold on you, his arm falling to the side as you tried to regain your focus after your life flashed right before your eyes and blacking out for half a second.

"You alright there?" He pats your lower back, as if trying to snap you awake.

"Fuck no, I felt like that explosion took five years from my life." You groaned, putting your hands on his covered chest and pushing yourself up. You looked around slightly before holding your hand out for him, watching as he accepted your gesture.

"Claire?!" You called out, uncaring that the undead are slowly starting to get back on their feet, groggily walking towards you and Leon.

"Yeah?!" You heard her respond, followed by three shots ringing in the air. "You alright?!"

"I'm alright, how about you?!" She yelled out, almost sounding out if breath. You were about to call put to her again until the man behind you take a hold of your wrist, aiming his gun at the undead surrounding you.

"We can't stay here, it's not safe!" He yells at you, but also at Claire as if trying to inform her something.

"Go on ahead! I'll meet you at the station!" She responds, and Leon looks back at you, curtly nodding his head. You bit your lip, "But what—" he grips on your wrist tighter, looking into your eyes.

"She'll be fine on her own, she can handle herself." He mutters. You looked hesitant, but looking around you there was no need to be wasting anymore time. You nodded, easing up to him as Leon lead you to where his destination is.

You tugged on his arm when he goes another way, catching his attention, you dragged eachother to an alleyway, an easy way to the station that wasn't on the road. Stopping in your tracks when you come across an undead, it was still rising up from the ground, and Leon brutally kicked it back on the floor, giving you time to run from it.

Going up a set of stairs, the sight of the station makes him exhale a breath he didn't know he was holding. "There it is, the station." He mutters. You looked around you, noticing the amount of undead all over the gate.

"There's so much of it." A frown overtakes you, your voice low that even you barely hear yourself.

"Let's make a run for it, okay? I'll cover." Leon perked up, catching your attention while grasping your hand. You nod nonetheless despite wanting to break down right then and there, pushing back the bile rising up your throat.

Leading the way, he runs to a clear pathway, shooting behind you when an undead gets way too close for comfort. You flinch when blood gets on your exposed skin, not finding the strength to look back at the dead bodies left behind.

Leon notices your quietness, feeling guilty but in your mind right now your batting the heads of zombies while your brother is pitching. Everytime you hit the head, you'd be cussing out as if singing a song.

You both finally reached the large gates, with Leon letting you go in first as he trailed behind. He shuts the door, locking it. He turns to you, looking at you worriedly. "You alright? You're awfully pale."

The question caught you off guard, your little gorey fantasy world shutting off as soon as his voice reached your ears. You nodded, "Yep, just reeling in everything." You mustered up a small smile that wrote 'wtf' all over it.

Leon decided not to poke more into your situation nonetheless, he bobs his head to the stations wooden door, as if waiting for your signal. You turned on your heel, removing your eyes from the sight of zombies in front of you and took steady steps towards the door. Leon trails right behind you.

Cold hands rested on the large wooden doors, pushing it open. The station looked exactly like the museum you loved to visit once a year when you were still a little girl. Same interior structure, but now a difference purpose.

The lights were awfully dim, and while you were looking around Leon had already found some important stuff.. like ammos.

You snapped your attention back, now walking towards the wooden counter. You stepped to the monitor that was flashing a bright red on the screen. Leon is now beside you, looking down at the screen as you pressed on a key. The CCTV control service pops up on the screen and you bent slightly down to focus on the screen better.

"There has to be someone here." Leon mutters. On cam4, revealed a man being trailed by another undead, he was a police officer, of course judging by his uniform.

"God, that's not good." You hissed worridly, your face scrunching when he misses his shots at the zombie.

"David! Marvin! You there?" His voice was rushed and uneven from how his breathing was unsteady. He looked into the camera, showing something you couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. "I found a way out, It's in here!"

You stood back up as he was cornered by the undead, not wanting to look at the scene unfold anymore. "Send reinforcement, east hallway!"

"We have to help him." You perked up, catching Leon's attention after looking at the cameras. He nods curtly, "I'll find him, but you stay here and check anything that seems valuable." You furrowed your brows at his words, unhappy.

"Like hell I will—"

"Listen—"

"No, you listen, Kennedy. I am coming with you and I don't give a single shit if you say it's dangerous." You glared at him, watching as he only rose a brow. "Jesus Christ, alright." He huffs, lifting his hand up in surrender as if there was a fight in the first place.

You smiled, pleased by the outcome.

"Let's go."

"Heugh—!  hah.."

You watched from behind as the blond in front of you push back a toppled over cabinet, the action making the metal storage clank down in the floor.

Your whistle catches his attention, making him turn to look at you.

"What?"

He felt himself burn up at your little smug smile, and you just brushed off his confused question. You both resumed walking, the heel of your shoe softly padding against the tiled floor as you trailed behind Leon, holding the flashlight he found in the gas stations convenience store.

Both of you come across a bloodied corner after turning from where you came from, and your senses heightened at the sight. Your ears rang as you heard a man yell from another direction, and you immediately sprang into action without a single thought.

"Open this God damn door!" You heard the man from the camera yell, banging on the steel door I'm the process. Panicked, bent down and held on the steel doors handle, using your strength to pry the door open. The door seemed as if it was jammed as it didn't want to open up more farther, so when the man's hand came into view you had no choice but to pull him in.

"I've got you! Just crawl—" You bit your lip, hard, desperately trying to get the man on your side. You could see Leon try to get the door to open again, only for him to pause when the man whose hand you're holding let's out a gurgled scream as blood seeped through his uniform.

You could feel your heart thumping on your chest, the sight making your skin crawl. "Fuck— shit, hold on!" You sniffled, pulling him in again as he only cried out. The scream was agonizing, and it didn't help how you could hear his flesh being feasted on from the other side.

Falling back on the ground roughly, the man was now pulled on your side of the door, only to be revealed that his lower body is missing. His organs were out in the open, his blood rushing out and pooling around his body, soaking the back of his uniform.

Your breath hitched at his state, your hand coming up to hold your incoming scream.

"..Jesus Christ." Leon mutters, looking down at the body as the man loses his consciousness. Leon then changes his gaze to the steel door, the sound of your sniffles being silenced by the zombie on the other side of the door. He sighs before picking up the notebook of the officer, opening it.

Leon turns to you after inspecting the notebook, his lips pursing as a loud exhale escapes his nose at your state. He crouched down at your slumped form, squatting in front of you as you're back was rested on the bloody wall.

You trying to muffle your sniffles was absolutely destroying, just listening to you right now made Leon's heart burn. But you've gotta continue moving.

"Come on, we've got to keep going." He pats your shoulder gently, listening as your sniffles slowly start calming down. Your head was hidden in your arms, disliking the idea of the man in front of you seeing your tears, yet hear you are breaking down after a man gets torn in half.

Another zombie from the door you went from started banging on the wooden door, catching your attention. Your head snapped to look at the sound, and as soon as the zombie breaks into the room you stood back up to your feet.

Leon stands up, shielding you from the undead that just broke in. The undead staggers unsteadily before lunging itself at Leon. The dirty blond man grunts, holding back the zombie with his hand around it, choking it. He pushes himself and the zombie back to the wooden door, only to throw himself to the side when the zombie tried to bite his hand.

The zombie staggered back from Leon's throw, growling and gurgling blood admist the silence. It's white glare on Leon shifted back to you, and you could hear it's flesh mushing together when it twists its body to your direction.

Before the rotting cannibal could throw itself at you, your hand instinctively grabbed the nearest thing you could use to defend yourself on the desk beside you. Which was a desk lamp. It's light shuts off as soon as it gets plugged off from your sudden force.

When the zombie runs towards you, at a safe space, you brutally swung the lamp at its head. A chunk of rotting flesh of the zombies head gets chucked off from the pressure of your hit.

The zombie hits the side of the desk, and before it could even fix its balance Leon had already shot at its head, blowing it up. Blood gushed on the desk, and without wasting anymore time Leon grabs your hand, snapping you out of your somewhat shocked-state.

You both stepped out of the room, and you could see another zombie banging on the window of the hallway. It breaks in, and Leon cussed out loudly at it, but instead of defending both of you he holds on your hand tighter. "Let's just run for it!"

Letting him drag you through the hallways, your footsteps were loud and echoing through the halls. Your head is dizzy and you don't bother to watch where you're headed, as if you've completely trusted your life on the hands of the man in front of you.

He comes to a stop, putting a hand on your shoulder and you've realized the familiar place. You crouch down and laid your body straight on the bloody floor as Leon tried to make the gap on the gate slightly wider, but not wide enough for a zombie to crawl in easily.

"Hurry." You could hear him mutter. You've now crossed the main hall, and you see Leon getting down, crawling on the space of the door. A zombie suddenly let's itself known, reaching for Leon's leg before you could even realize.

"Damn it!" He curses, looking back at the zombie behind him. He could feel your hand on his arm, pulling him from the zombie despite his heaviness.

Then suddenly you notice a pair of black shoes and the same colored uniform pants those zombified officers were wearing. "Careful—" You started, reaching out your hand to the man as soon as you made sure Leon was safe from the bloody hands grabbing at him.

"I got it." He gruffly speaks up, pressing his foot down on the steel door, crushing it's body from the pressure. You looked down at the crushed zombie before looking up at the man, exhaling lightly.

His hand was pressed up on the bloody wound on his stomach, his breath heavy with his chest heaving up and down. His back pressed up on the steel door, slightly sliding down, "You're safe, for now." He grunts, face scrunching up painfully.

"Thank you." You perked up, your face showing nothing but genuine gratefulness.

"Marvin Branagh." He introduced himself, which followed by Leon doing the same. You stated your first name to the new acquaintance, his uniform reminding you of a particular death.

"..–there was another officer, and i couldn't save him– he–" You felt a hand on your shoulder, the same hand who held yours earlier. You trailed off your sentence, the officers death flashing and replaying in your head.

"I'm sure you did what you could, little one." Marvin takes a step towards you, bobbing his head in acknowledgement, his words providing some kind of comfort and reassurance.

"He died... for what?" Your voice was small, weak and fragile. With the bile rising up your throat, you found yourself having trouble trying to breathe again. God, you hated feeling like this, just breaking down in front of people. You disliked feeling weak. You disliked being seen vulnerable.

But you couldn't help it anymore. That one particular death would haunt you, especially because it was your fault. You could've saved him if you pulled him through faster. If you got there in time. If you weren't so weak.

Leon pulls out a specific notebook after those words escaped your mouth, flipping through the pages to find the little map that officer drew. He shuffles beside you, catching your attention.

"Died for this."

[iprefertheterminsane]

Take me Home (Where I Belong)

I'm almost finished with my domestic perryshmirtz 5+1, which I'm gonna upload to ao3 soon so here's a tease in the form of the first chapter!

Rating: G

Relationship: Perry the Platypus/Heinz Doofenshmirtz

Tags: Human Perry the Platypus, pre-slash, domesticity, Perry's moved in before they even stopped calling themselves enemies, it's normal to want to kiss the homies sometimes, right?, long suffering Charlene, Perry's got 4 kids actually and that fourth one is Vanessa, haha Perry the Platypus you are dating my father.

Even after having his plans foiled for the day, Heinz doesn’t let him drive home.

“Look at yourself, Perry the Platypus, you’re barely standing on your own two feet.” The scientist points out. He’s right, of course, not that Perry will let him the satisfaction of agreeing with him. It seems to mean less than little; Heinz had already buckled him back into the passenger seat of his truck with the tenacity of a father, and Perry is just barely conscious enough to comply- a bit dumbly, but the taller man does not seem to mind-without much of a fuss. He’s still talking, naturally. Perry has gotten so used to the chatter the droning had begun to take on an ambient sort of feeling, like brown noise. “-practically an accident waiting to happen. Honestly, you’d think Francis would want to try keeping his best agent alive-that agency is gonna do you in better than I would, one day.”

Perry considers giving up a token protest-he had gotten here with the hoverjet on auto-pilot; the routes between the lair and Doofenshmirtz Evil Inc. has long been keyed in as his defaults-but decides otherwise. He really was quite exhausted, surely it would be no bother to let Heinz drive him back to Evil Inc. where he’s parked. Why waste fuel when a cheaper of transport was on offer? The Major has particularly been going on and on lately about turning the office more green and saving energy, no doubt one of their latest efforts to cut costs-so he was doing the agency a favor, really. He trusted that Heinz was a reliable enough driver when they’re neither forced to undergo the serial killing obstacle course that was the Drusselsteinian Driving Test Route.

He would sleep in just until Heinz gets them back home. Decision made, he lets himself rest his eyes.

00..00

“Up, up, up, Perry the Platypus you don’t really expect me to carry you up the stairs do you-,”

“-Ok, here we go, sit here-no, no, don’t lay down just yet you need to take your shoes off Perry the Heathenpuss-,”

“-I am not letting you sleep in the corset of a waistcoat Perry the Platypus, wow is this Kevlar? No wonder you can stand my Titanium punches-Ok uppies, I should probably help you take this tie off too, huh? They could strangle you in your sleep, y’know, nuff said, if nuff was-y’know, me-it’s so weird to see you so biddable, Perry the Platypus-,”

“-ok, last thing Perry the Platypus, yes I promise, just need to help you get under the covers, alright? Now, isn’t that better? Aw, look at how cute you look, Perry the Platypus, like a little angel-,”

“Good night, Perry the Platypus.”

00..00

Perry snorts awake in the penthouse guest room with the covers pulled up to his chin, blinking against the light of the setting sun from behind the half-shaded curtains facing east of Danville.

He isn’t sure what’s woken him, but finds himself unable to go back to sleep. This was probably a good thing-he’s never stayed behind in Doofenshmirtz Evil Inc. for so long without making his excuses before, and the clock shows that he’s nearly late for dinner back at the Flynn-Fletcher’s household. He’ll have no trouble flying home now, he feels perfectly well-rested.

Rising to his feet, he finds himself underdressed. His hat rests on the right-hand nightstand, right next to his sleeping head, and the rest of his clothes-vest, tie and shoes-draped carefully over the chair that looks like it’s been dragged over from the kitchen, positioned right next to the room’s entryway, deliberately left ajar. He shoves the hat back over his head and toes his shoes back on, but blinks deliberately at the rest of his attire. They are, of course, crucial parts of his armour, but what was to fear for stepping out without them? Heinz’s scheme was thwarted for the day, and lest the man was suddenly overcome with another plan while Perry was out, which he sincerely doubts, Heinz would not have reason to attack him out of the blue, and certainly not out of armour. He was obsessed with playing fair, and acting by the book. As far as they are both concerned, they were now both off the clock.

Perry decides to take the clothes and fold them over his arm, but he steps out without putting them on- the vest tends to cinch, which he tolerates, but not without reason-and goes to search for his host to make his goodbyes.

It’s easy enough to find him; Heinz is in the kitchen, naturally, making dinner for himself, with Norm at the dining table carefully slicing vegetables and making prep; something doughy, it seems. Perry wonders if it’s pie-Heinz makes wonderful doonkleberry pie. He rests his hips against the doorjamb, and chatters his teeth to make his presence known, a noise Heinz is well familiar with. It cuts off the man’s mindless chatter, and he beams. Perry can’t help his own answering smile.

"Ah, Perry the Platypus!” He crows. “Just in time for dinner! I don’t suppose you mind setting the table, just need to give me another couple of minutes-,” he cuts himself off as he sees Perry shaking his head, and Perry signs, regretfully, that he has to make himself scarce.

“YOU AREN’T STAYING FOR DINNER?” Norm asks, as despairingly as his cheerful-sounding robotic voice could make it sound. His mouth is down turned.

“Yes, it’s already so late, Perry the Platypus, surely your report could wait a couple of more hours.” Heinz adds, cajoling. “I worry you know, a man has to eat homemade meals every couple of days, else you tend to get sick to the stomach. I don’t know if you cook. I’ve made lemon pie for dessert.” Heinz sing-songs enticingly at the end, and Perry has to admit it’s persuasive. The man really does have a knack for baking.

But he’s already missed out on family dinner yesterday, due to making up for Agent G’s maternity leave, and the Flynn-Fletchers would worry if he missed out on another. He knows for a fact Linda’s made her award-winning meatloaf tonight, and hedgehog cake for supper. He’d hate on missing out on the treat for the world.

He’s halfway through realizing he’s said it out loud, ‘I have homemade meals at home,’ before he freezes, taking in Norm’s and Heinz’s curious blinks, and his hands pause abruptly, letting the sentence trail off awkwardly. He could see from the look on Heinz’s face that he was curious, mouth opening as if to pose a question, but seems to ultimately decide against it. They’ve both scrambled enough of the expected norms of their Villain-to-Spy nemesis-ship today, and crossing the line to figuring out Perry’s home life seems a midge too far, even for them.

Heinz hums, and changes the subject. “Are you really driving home fully dressed like that?”

Perry looks down at himself. ‘What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?’

“Nothing, which is my point. You could just leave them here, you know, they’re all dirty, Norm can run them through with the rest of the day’s laundry, and you can pick them up tomorrow. It’s weird to see you all dressed down, you know, but not bad weird, a good weird, makes me feel like a good host. That’s how you know you’re an adult sometimes, ugh, just listen to me talk about good hosting etiquette, Vanessa never has to worry about that sort of thing you know, even though she should. I hope Charlene’s teaching her.”

Perry’s wandered over to the coffee machine at this point, using context clues to figure out how it works and avoiding the large red button in a transparent case on the right-hand side of it’s case. He taps it, and churrs again.

“Oh, coffee! That’s a good idea, Perry the Platypus, some strong caffeine to help drive you through that traffic, I bought this travel mug for you!” Heinz hands him a short and stout chrome and teal travel mug with a silicone top and an anti-slip base. “I saw that color while scrolling through Etsy while I was looking at bento-boxes for this scheme I’m cooking up next week-oop, forget I said that Perry the Platypus, no spoilers! It reminded me of you! But the travel mugs aren’t related, it was just in the same shop, I love travel mugs, especially these newer novelty ones, you know there were never any novelty items back in Drusselstein, on account of the state largely frowning on any sort of color or patterns-,”

Perry churrs again, twisting the top of his cup back on and pointing out the door. Heinz visibly deflates.

“Oh, right, yes, leaving, of course, Perry the Platypus, let me just let this simmer and walk you to the door-and leave the clothes with Norm, Perry the Platypus, I’ve told you, you can come to fetch them tomorrow.”

Heinz helps hold the mug for him while he gets himself settled back in the hoverjet, and the clock on his dash informs him he should reach the house just in time to reach the Flynn Fletchers begin dinner if he rushed. Heinz leans forward to hand him the travel mug, leaving them close, just close enough that Perry feels the ridiculous urge to-maybe-leave a soft kiss on the other man’s cheek, the way Lawrence does when Linda was about to leave the house for the errand of the day.

Heinz doesn’t seem to notice, mumbling about setting the mug just right into the cupholder behind the handlebar, because it was hot, Perry the Platypus, we wouldn’t want a repeat of the driving test incident, do we? When Perry switches the jet on, Heinz waves. Perry, inexplicably, tips his hat back in return.

It isn’t until he’s 15 minutes away from the house that he realizes he really had left his vest and tie behind at Doofenshmirtz Evil Inc. He hopes Heinz doesn’t plan to do anything inadvisable with them.

For some reason, Perry doesn’t believe that he will.

[roe-and-memory]

MACK HEADCANONS PLZZZ

OF COURSE!!

mack is seriously one of my favourite side characters. i literally adore him SO much

- i think mack has like. 5 sisters. and hes the oldest and only boy of all of the siblings. this is a hc roe and i have had for a while, he just has such oldest brother of the family vibes but also like hes so gentle as if he grew up with sisters. i can imagine him, 17, the second oldest being somewhere around 11 or 12, and theyve convinced him to bake cupcakes with him. hes got his mothers pink apron on, hes doing all the work, while his sisters are hanging off of him and playing with their toys all over the kitchen floor. he couldnt bake for shit, but anything for his baby sisters

- adding onto above, i dont think he did too much in school. his mother worked two jobs and his father was away a lot on business trips, so he very willingly and very happily took care of his younger sisters 24/7. and im not saying his parents were neglectful - not at all. i think his parents worked hard to take them on trips and keep them afloat. the did family trips as many times a year as they had the chance to and their parents made sure the kids knew they were loved.

- AMAZING driver. hes been driving since he was young, and he can maneuver his hauler better than most other drivers. both his parents contributed to teaching him how to drive, and they both gave him their separate tips and tricks, so he is quite literally the collective bunch of his parents driving habits all in one.

- he left to work for rusteze as a truck driver when he was around 22/23, when the second oldest sibling was old enough to hold down the fort. a lot of his extra cash went to his family back home, but he stayed on the road.

- not too interested in relationships, he’s always been kind of held down and its nothing against his family but now he likes the freedom of home being on the road

- his truck (1985 mack superliner) was his grandfathers cab. he bought it brand new and never used it much, trucking ran in his family (even his father was a trucker before he met macks mother and settled down), so his grandfather gave him the cab for free as a gift one year and he’s used it and kept it in tip-top shape ever since

- lightning is like that little brother he never had. he found the kid at a truck stop, a distressed fifteen year old looking to get out of town (he was running away from home) and saved him from getting his shit rocked by some pissed off old guy because he’d asked for two dollars for chips and the guy took a personal offence to it. mack literally felt sick at the idea that this kid was out this far from the city alone. lightning had WALKED from henderson to vegas to see the race, and then just decided he wasnt going home. mack was so heartbroken because the thought of one of his sisters ever being in the situation that this kid is in right now made his stomach churn. the kid had begged to go with him, and mack felt so guilty he said yes. he initially tried to take the kid somewhere safe, like a home for kids or something, but lightning was quite content to stay, and it felt like having a little brother around and it was Different (mack checked the news every day for any missing child reports and Nobody reported lightning missing. it literally destroyed mack emotionally because How do u not report ur own child missing when he leaves and doesnt return.)

- his truck has bunk beds since its a sleeper cab and he let lightning decorate his bunk with posters and those glow in the dark stars and literally anything the kid wanted he could plaster on the walls and mack did not care. this also included a bunch of stickers, because oh Lord that boy is obsessed with little stickers

- mack had no idea how to bond with lightning considering he himself had grown up being forced to play barbies with his little sisters (they would try to make him be evil ken but then they’d get mad because he was too nice. he got to play as the dollhouse dog instead) whereas lightning grew up with Nothing. lightning didnt really know how to interact with toys without feeling ridiculous because he’d been conditioned to believe toys were for Babies. mack eventually gave up trying to guess what lightning liked and just took him to a toys r us, where lightning Immediately found a stuffed dinosaur he liked and got like 2 hot wheels cars and then proceeded to profusely apologize for wasting macks money on such stupid stuff. mack did not give af, as long as his little brother was happy he was ok

- he gave lightning his first ever hug. before that not a Single person had ever hugged that child and mack was so sad to learn it because how do parents go 15 years without ever hugging ur own flesh and blood

- he taught lightning how to drive in a field with the truck during break days, and realized the kid’s potential and signed him up for late model stock races after a bit of talking. rusty and dusty also took an interest in racing at this point, and allowed mack to carry the kids late model stock car in the truck (they figured out a way for him to get both product and the car in the truck, and conveniently every delivery was for the city lightnings next race was in)

- hes kept all of lightnings late model stock trophies, the kid was a real good winner even back then and he’s even got photos that photographers had taken of the wins when little 15 year old lightning mcqueen was standing on the roof of his car holding his trophy above his head with the biggest smile in the world plastered on his face (those wins were like the proudest big brother moments ever until he got into the piston cup)

- hes a MASSIVE harv hater but hes too nice to say it. when doc starts expressing his own dislike for harv, mack starts talking to him about it and they bond over the fact they hate that man so fucking much that they end up managing to get him fired

- during the piston cup off season he goes back to delivering product for rusteze

- even though lightnings older now he still sees him as a younger brother

i think this is it.. THANK U FOR THE ASK!!! i love talking about mack :3

[neonscandal]

I saw a video these days about jujutsu and I saw something that I never realized that Megumi is not a good person because he is willing to do anything for his sister, which makes him selfish and that he only saves those who he "deems" to be a good person and who qualify as a good person for him. his morality is very black and white just like geto. There's a line from him that is very realistic, especially today in the manga, that sorcerers are not heroes, an example saturo gojo.

Just Megumi dodging these harsh allegations.

You mean Megumi Fushiguro, son of Toji Fushiguro Satoru Gojo?? Character alignment wise, I oscillate between considering Megumi a True Neutral or more of a Lawful Neutral where "Lawful" is being applied generously.

Megumi is incredibly principled. The baseline for his evaluation of a person is distilled down to an observation that "I won't kill you so, in return, you shouldn't kill me." In a lookback at his days before Jujutsu High, we see that he is more than comfortable beating the brakes off of people who violate this basic tenet, even if they don't infringe upon it with him directly. Despite the rule as he lectures the delinquents, his application of it is very in line with Geto's ideology that the strong should protect the weak and keep the strong in check.

Geto considered all non-sorcerers to be weak against curses thus it was sorcerers' responsibilities to mind the herd. Megumi is a bit more discerning which is a reflection of his strength and perceived weakness compared to his peers. It also factors the flaws and inherent ability to be evil into his consideration. What set Geto astray was the fact that, as the strongest, he couldn't fathom the weak to be a threat. Based on Megumi's actions, those that deserve protection, like Tsumiki and Yuji, are those who are selfless and act on others' behalfs even to their own detriment. So, doing anything for Tsumiki, not even his blood relative, is a reflection of her purity of character. He's not one to cause harm to innocent people but does consider past harm as damnable offenses (like the truck driver who struck a kid in the juvenile detention center... who may or may not have been the driver who killed Rika Orimoto).

I think the big difference here is the fact that... Geto was a part of "The Strongest". Megumi is not. While he was great against non-powered up delinquents, people within jujutsu society remark that he's not good at hand to hand combat. Further, at this point in the anime, we now see that Megumi, at any indication that a fight was going poorly, either had a death wish or didn't see a way out that didn't involve summoning Mahoraga... even against Todo. EVEN AGAINST HARUTA. One could argue his morality is less to do with the idea of omnipotence as was the case with Geto and more to do with the fact that... he's not out here trying to die for someone who will later cause more harm to the world than he can cause good.

It's true, Megumi is aware that sorcerers are not heroes. In fact, he probably thinks those who are foolhardy and believing that they're helping people are especially laughable. Consider the fact that Megumi Fushiguro is a person who was bought and sold... twice... by sorcerers. He's got no choice in the matter as to the path he's on but he's got a tempered sense of reality that is informed by the fact that sorcerers die all the time, students and adults alike. He's just trying to make it out alive and with as much autonomy as he can and that informs an illusion of choice as to who is worth potentially dying for.

While his ideals definitely seem like they could lead him down a similar path to Geto, I think his motivation informed by a sense of self-preservation that he's willing to forego on principle differs greatly from Geto's perception that no harm would ever come to him at all. Geto experienced a foundational upset that altered his brain chemistry but Megumi is aware of his own weakness all the while and will still choose to fight. Please also remember the whole reason he even agreed to go with Gojo in the first place was to make sure Tsumiki wouldn't have a shitty life. He blindly chose a life fraught with peril so she wouldn't suffer at the hands of the Zenin. He, a child, essentially agreed to indentured servitude to protect her because, alone, he could not fend for her.

RE: Gojo as a hero... I am not so foolish as to say he is, but I am not uninformed to say he isn't either. He is simply flawed. Both in essence as a character and in the execution of his ideals. But consider the fact that, as The Strongest:

Gojo doesn't have to bend to the will of the elders that he disagrees with, he could simply kill them.

Gojo doesn't have to take missions just as Yuki Tsukumo refuses, he could let others continue to die in vain.

Gojo doesn't have to stick his neck out for Megumi, Yuta or Yuji, what matter are they to him when he has godlike strength?

None of the above would make him a villain to simply.. not participate in the rigamarole of jujutsu society because, with his strength, it's not like anyone could force him to. Doing the above also doesn't make him a hero; however, knowing that he could just go off and do whatever but he chooses the path of great resistance to cultivate abilities in others so as to better prepare them to be sorcerers and, as much as he can, protect them from the burden of their responsibilities. He's earnestly trying to improve facets of jujutsu society that he doesn't necessarily have to suffer because it's the right thing to do and it benefits kids who come up after him. In comparison to what he could be doing, he's trying to make a difference so the world doesn't lose another person like Geto to the reality of what it means to be a sorcerer.

In a broader sense, Gojo also meets the literal requirements of a hero as a literary device as he is a legendary figure seemingly born of divine descent and endowed with great strength and ability. This is just offset by him being canonically grating to like... everyone around him but Geto and just, generally, a silly, goofy lil guy 🤪✨