#franki's bangs were... a choice

[crimswnred]

they definitely changed the art style, that I can say

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Kinktober Special Part 2

Mo’s Kinktober Special

The Crew’s Whore (Part 2) (+18)

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your power fighting abilities got the attention of the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. He had asked you to join their crew but what would you bring to the team? Your battle skills were hardly comparable to many of the other Straw Hats… but you actually had a great skill. Your years working as a high end escort had prepared you to become the private plaything for this pirate crew. You joined the Straw Hats as their personal sex toy. 

Pairing: Franky x afab!reader

WC: 3100 I'm so sorry

TW: IS THIS A SAFE SPACE?!?! Banging a robot, alcohol consumption oral sex (m receiving), vaginal sex, crying, forced orgasm? face shot, heavy use of pet names, cringe, his body is a sex toy idk, cringe, so much cringe, please forgive me I love him, idc

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

Robo-boning uder the cut:

Chapter 2: The Cyborg

It was a breezy evening aboard the Sunny as you sipped from your wine glass while leaning forward against the railing of the deck. Sanji had once again prepared the crew a fantastic meal and you felt full and comfortable with the cool sea wind blowing through your hair. It was late, most of the crew had returned to their quarters. Zoro was up in his crows nest dojo having a late night workout, Franky had returned to his workshop to fiddle with some new cannon technology, Luffy was in a food coma and snoring loudly laid up against the mast, and even Sanji had finished dishes with Robin’s help and excused himself to bed. Robin was always so helpful with the dishes with her Devil Fruit powers and all. 

You were alone out here with only the sounds of the waves crashing against the hull and your captain’s aggressive snoring. You thought about how you missed your old life, but also how happy you were with the Straw Hats. You loved your job at the brothel and it certainly was less dangerous… but this new life? It was… exhilarating. You loved it. 

*I think I need something stronger* you thought to yourself…

You looked at your empty wine glass and walked into the galley for something more exciting. It was spotlessly clean and empty. You opened up the liquor cabinet and perused your options. Vodka, tequila, gin, rum.. hmm… 

*It’s a pirate’s life for me, I guess.* You giggled and grabbed the bottle of spiced rum off the shelf. You realized that taking it straight from the bottle was a little barbaric for a late night solo cocktail and went to the fridge for a mixer. Orange juice, mineral water, nothing suitable to mix with rum. You wracked your brain, what would go well with rum?  A lightbulb went off in your brain, there’s an obvious choice. Cola! 

Rum and cola went together like peanut butter and jelly, like pancakes and syrup, like tea and honey. Your mouth watered at the prospect of a tasty drink… You knew there wasn’t any cola in the kitchen, but you knew exactly where it was. You filled a glass from the cabinet with ice and held it in one hand and the bottle of rum in the other. You pushed past the swinging galley door towards the hallway that went to the center of the ship. You skipped down a flight of stairs until you reached a wooden door marked with blue cartoonish stars. Blue lettering adorned the top of the doorway reading ‘Franky House.’ 

*So nostalgic of him* you chuckled to yourself before knocking twice. 

“What’s up?” You hear Franky’s booming voice from the other side of the door. You opened the door and sidled in with your glass and bottle in hand. 

“Oh heyyy pretty thing, what are you doing up at this hour?” Franky turned on his stool next to his workbench to look at you. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” You smiled at him as you strode confidently towards the fridge you spotted in the corner of his room. “Fancied myself a rum and cola, figured you’d be the guy to call about finding a bottle of cola around here.” 

“Yeah babe! Mi cola es su cola!” He flashed you a winning smile before he turned back towards his work bench and continued fiddling with whatever gadget he was working on before your intrusion. You grabbed a bottle of brown syrupy liquid from the fridge and brought it over to him. You said nothing, just pointed the head of the bottle in his direction. He barely looked up as he reached his large hard out and popped the cap off of the bottle for you. You smiled. 

“Thanks, handsome.” 

You returned to the desk in the middle of the room where you had set your rum and glass, setting the cola down. You picked up the rum and poured a GENEROUS amount over the ice. You topped it off with the freshly popped cola and brought the glass to your lips. Holy shit you over did it with the rum but damn, that’s good. You took a few more sips and let out a big sigh. 

“Rough day, sweet cheeks?” Franky laughed after hearing your exasperated sigh. 

“Hmm.. I guess. Just feeling a bit nostalgic is all.”

Franky’s hands continued to manipulate the mechanical item on his work bench.

“Yeah I get it. It happened to all of us, ya have this whole life and then all of a sudden you’re a pirate. It’s super weird. You’ll get used to it, y/n, we all do. We can talk about it, if ya like.” He doesn’t turn around. He had always been so good at expressing his emotions, such a tender and kind soul. He knew how you felt, and wanted you to feel heard. 

*Such a sweet heart for a robot* you thought to yourself. But he wasn’t a robot, he was still a man. Sure, his body was more metal than flesh at this point, but it didn’t take away from what a gentle spirit he had. You started to wonder what other human instincts he had left… 

“Honestly Frank? I’m kind of trying not to think about it. What are you working on?” You walk over to his work bench and lean up next to him, against the table backwards, able to see the item on the table but facing his body. 

“Oh this? Nothing totally crazy, just something I was thinking about for my forearm cannon. You see this part here…” He was excitedly telling you about his work, clearly passionate about his science. You nod and give him “hmm”’s here and there. You pour another strong drink and bring it back over to Franky’s work bench. You set the glass in front of him.

“I can’t be the only one indulging tonight, right?” You say seductively as you slide the glass towards his massive chest. 

“Well little lady, I’m usually a cola purist, but I guess one drink won’t hurt.” Franky grabs the glass in his large hand and slams the drink in one gulp. He hisses out, not prepared for how strong you made the cocktail. 

“My god girl, you’re trying to get me drunk?!”

You laugh out loud and pour yourself another drink. 

“No no, just trying to get more comfortable!” You laugh again. “Now tell me more about this hydraulic, fusion combustion, thingy again…” 

You say this as you set yourself down on Franky’s wide lap, drink in hand. 

“Okay so if you can see this piece right here…” Franky continued explaining his latest project to you as you became distracted by his handsome features. He had a strong, chilled jaw, defined abs, incredible thighs and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to his swim briefs. Was it still real? Did he have anything or was he like a doll?

You let your thoughts get the better of you and you set your glass down on the workbench. You slid to your knees in between Franky’s spread legs and let your head rest on his thigh. 

“WoAAhhh sweet thing, something else on your mind?” He dropped what he was working on and lifted his sunglasses onto his head as he looked down at you. He leaned back. You giggled up at him while stroking his crotch slowly. 

“mmmm yes. How could I not wonder? I’ve thought about it so much. Never had someone like you before…” You drew your face closer to the growing bulge in his swim briefs as you palm him. 

“Are you sure? How much do you want it? It might be too much for ya, doll face…” Franky puts his large palm on the side of your face, seemingly a bit concerned. 

“I want it. I can take it, please show me.” Your fingers worked at the hem of his tight black speedo before he helped you bring it down to his ankles. You pull them all the way off and return to your kneeled position between his legs. 

“Wow…” 

His cock was so gorgeous. It had to be real. It was so long, thinner than you’d like, but the length was truly impressive. The base was decorated with tufts of blue hair. 

“Is this good for ya, babe? Tell me what ya like and I can make it happen." Franky stroked your hair as you were staring at his cock from between his knees. 

“What?” You didn’t know what he was talking about. Was he that confident in his sexual abilities? You felt your cunt clench in anticipation. 

“No, this," He nods his head down at his erect cock. "I can make it anything you want. Too big?” You stared up at him with wide eyes. 

“Want bigger? Maybe you’re a little size queen?” Franky smirked at you with those last words. 

“No no,” You stuttered out. “Could you… could you maybe make it a little… thicker?” You were so embarrassed, you felt so silly asking for this man to change up his own cock for you. 

“Of course doll, if you want to be stretched out real good, who am I to deny you?” Franky smiled as he pressed his metal nose. 

You stared at his erect penis as it became girthier right before your eyes. 

“No way…” You gasped quietly to yourself. 

“Yes way baby! You really thought I would rebuild my own body and not give myself an incredible dick?” He grinned down at you between his legs. “Now… where were we?”

You felt his hand gently push the back of your head towards his newly engorged cock. You were snapped out of your stupor and grabbed the thick length with both hands and began to pump it slowly. 

“Perfect….” Franky cooed at you as you stroked him. 

You leaned forward and took his tip into your mouth. He groaned loudly. You knew he would be loud, he always is, why would now be any different?

You gradually took more and more of his cock into your mouth and bobbed your head up and down. With each pull backwards you slurped and dragged your tongue across the bulbous head of his dick. 

“Fuck, shit, just like that…” He tried so hard not to ram his hips into your face, knowing it would scare you off. His body was too strong. 

“Shit baby… You’re way too good at this… get up here and let me stuff you.” 

Once again your pussy squeezed around nothing, pushing out a drip of your arousal. Franky leaned down and grabbed your hips to pull you upward. 

In a moment you were on your back on Franky’s workbench, his projects swept to the the floor with one brush of his huge forearm. He was man handling your body to pull all your clothes off of you. You lay back down on the table, now fully bare in front of him.

“Franky, fuck me. Please. I want it.” 

He hovered over you, massive body eclipsing yours. 

“And you’re sure? I told you it might be too much… Once I start… well it can just be a lot for someone who isn't used to it.” Franky asked you for the last time, making sure you knew what you were getting into. 

“Yes, Frank. I’m so sure.” 

He pushed you down forcefully, but you protested by rising to your elbows and catching his lips in a wet kiss. He accepted your kiss and forced his tongue past your spit covered lips. You groaned at his dominance, such a change from how you were used to being with your other lovers. 

After making out for several moments, you whined a bit too loudly when he pinched at your nipple. 

“Okay okay needy girl, I’ll give you what you want now. But don’t say I didn’t warn you…” 

He pushes your thighs up with one hand as he lines his perfect cock up with your sopping hole with the other. He squeezes himself in slowly. 

“Holy FUCK, my GOD Franky…!” You shout out as he sinks balls deep inside of you, having you in a mating press with one hand due to his large stature. 

“Oh pretty lady, we haven’t even started.” He begin to pull out and shove himself back into your cunt, slick coating his cock more and more with each thrust. You slammed your eyes shut in pleasure, his dick was hitting all the perfect spots inside of you almost like it was made perfectly to fit your body… oh wait… it was. 

All of a sudden you felt a new sensation along with his heft length splitting you open. Was he… vibrating? Your neck snapped up and your eyes shot open to meet his above you. 

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that. Had to add something for the ladies pleasure, right?”

“FRANKY!” Your body lurched forward and grabbed his biceps. You had never felt anything like this before. It’s like your body was lit up by electricity. The smooth drag of his vibrating cock against your g-spot was complete sensory overload. 

Franky chuckled. He continued railing into your tiny body, chasing his own pleasure, not worried that you’d reach yours. 

“Frank I’m going to-!” You yelped as your body tumbled over the edge in pleasure. It was the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Your spasming cunt pushed out your release all over your lovers abdomen and legs.

“Wow doll face, I never thought you’d be a squirter!” Franky laughed over you as he drilled his hips into yours further, not concerned about your recovery from your intense orgasm. Your body was limp in his hold now, not able to produce any sort of coherent phrase. 

“Franky wait, I feel like-Ah!“ 

You were cumming again. It was only a few moments after your last orgasm and your center was  squeezing and creaming on Franky’s thick robotic cock again. You had lost full control over your body, it was like nothing you’d ever experienced. You screamed. You had no idea what words you were trying to scream, but you screamed. 

“You like that, huh baby? How about one more for me? I think you can do it, right?” Tears streamed down your face as you laid on his workbench, boneless. Your cunt was throbbing in both pain and pleasure. You were being thrust into so forcefully that your body slid back and forth on the table, your breasts basically hitting you in the chin as they bounced so aggressively. 

“Mmmm.. Hmm. FUCK! Yes I can do it, I can take it!” You felt drunk on pleasure, barely able to keep your eyes focused. The sensations in your pussy were unlike anything you’d ever experienced. As your cyborg lover pounded into you at an impossible speed, you felt the familiar wave of pressure bubble up from your center, but this time far more intense than the others. 

“There it is baby, I can feel it, I knew you could do it for me sweet thing.” He coaxed you into tipping over the edge. Your back arched and you shrieked up at him. You vision went completely white for a moment as you felt your massive release splattering against Franky’s thighs and cock. Wet, sloppy noises filled the room as you felt your cunt start to tingle with numbness and overstimulation, 

“Can’t… it’s too much!”  You whine loudly at him as you make a feeble attempt to push at his abs, not entirely sure what you wanted yet. 

“That’s just fine doll face, I’ve got something else in mind anyway.” He flashes you a huge grin before grabbing you around your ribs and setting you down on your knees on the floor in front of him.

“Open wide, pretty lady!” He held your hair in a makeshift ponytail with one hand and stroked his massive cock in front of your face with the other. 

Obviously after 3 earth-shattering orgasms you were putty in his large hands. You stick your tongue out and look up at him. After seeing the makeup smeared on your face from spit and sweat and tears, there was no way he could hold back any longer. 

“Fuuuuuuuck…!” He groaned out as he painted your eager, wrecked face with simply so much cum. It dripped off your cheeks and your chin as you happily kept your mouth open for him. He finally finishes his release and taps his cock on your tongue, so you can taste the last bit. 

“Shit you look so super like this!” Franky beamed down at you covered in his thick cum. You grin back up at him, delirious from exhaustion, cum dribbling down your neck. “But I guess I can’t leave ya like that huh?” He grabbed a clean rag from a drawer in his workbench and started wiping his seed off your face, you were so exhausted your eyes fell closed and you held your head in his free hand. 

“Hold on hold on doll, I’m almost done then I’ll put ya to bed.” Franky finished cleaning your face and picked up up off your knees and set you down on his bed. He tucked you in and went to put back on the little clothing he had on in the first place. He moved towards the door of his room. 

“Well thanks for the break, little lady! I have a repair I need to finish up on the deck tonight, but you get some rest.” Franky says from over his shoulder on the way out to the rest of the ship. You close your eyes and relax your bruised and exhausted body into Franky’s mattress. 

"Hey, if you’re feeling up to it when I get back, we can have a round 2! You haven’t even seen half the super stuff I can do, I just went easy on you!” He shouted as he left the room with his toolbox and the door closed behind him. 

Your eyes snapped open.

“WHAT?!”

---

a/n I again, am so sorry lol but Franky needs more love. Justice for Franky Fuckers.

[misguidedasgardian]

The course of Nature, part (2)

First Part

Pairing: Negan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of Negan’s brutality, cursing, implied coercion and kidnapping, mentions of polygamy, (c’mon guys, everything related to Negan in the Sanctuary), talking of periods and pregnancy, thoughts about abortion, sensitive content regarding pro-choice… SMUT, a soft mommy kink, rather pregnancy kink, a little biting and a little blood, Negan being a horny jackass.

might miss some warnings. 

TWD Era: Alexandria, Negan Era, (season 7) 

Notes: Seeing Negan saying, “Oh my, look at this little Angel!” and grabbing Judith from her crib did something to me, and here it is 

“Why don’t you want to be my wife?” he asked her, amused 

“Negan, I know you are like a rabbit or a jackass… you are horny and you hump the first thing you see, but I’m like a cool Eagle, or a wolf… I mate for life” she answered simply. And it was so clever he wasn’t even mad, he chuckled darkly watching her intently, hoping to burn the shape of her body and her face in his mind forever

“You are acting like someday I’m going to get bored of you and just let you leave” he whispered in her ear. He felt her getting nervous, the small hairs on the back of her head standing to attention and goosebumps in her arms. But still she acted like he didn’t cause her incredible fear.

“You might” she whispered

“Believe me, I will not” he answered back 

You didn’t want to have anything to do with the other wives of Negan, really, you didn’t want to talk to anyone, you didn’t want to make friends, you just wanted to stay in your room and most importantly, stay fucking alive and not make it worse for your friends in Alexandria

But…   

When weeks passed and you didn't get your period. You were quickly losing your mind

It was hard to keep track of the calendar in the fucking zombie apocalypse. All the electronics went to shit… but you guessed that outside in some place of the sactuary, someone might have a fucking clue.

Your period was like a swiss watch, you were never late, it was like clockwork, so you had a sense of when it was coming, so now, you left your room looking frantically for a calendar, or something 

The wives seemed surprised to see you, but somehow relieved, since he took you, Negan never left your side, he didn’t spend the night with any of them, you thought they’d be angry, or jealous, but the looks on their faces told you they were grateful, and relieved.

Even though Negan was proud to say he had killed rapists and didn’t tolerate the awful act, he did use coercion to get what he wanted, he used it on you, and probably all of them as well. Yes he did give them a choice but… “Be my wife or I’ll bash yours or your boyfriend's brains” didn’t seem much of a choice to you.

“Hey, we have been wanting to meet you” only two of them approached you, a redhead, and a smaller girl, with dark hair and and bangs, “I’m Frankie, this is Tanya”

“(Y/N)” You answered, “Sorry I was hiding in my room” you explained 

“It’s understandable” she drew an apologetic smile. There was an awkward silence, in which they expected you to say something, and all the way around

“I was wondering…” you started, “if any of you had a calendar, or something… a way to tell what day it is?” you explained. They all looked at eachother. The one you knew her name was Frankie took your hand softly and led you to the wall where there was this old calendar

“It’s the 17th” she said softly. You just nodded, confirming your fears, you were late, two fucking weeks late. You drew a shaky breath, tears burning the back of your eyes.

“Shit” you whispered, debating internally if you should share your fears or not

“What’s going on?” she asked you, “you can tell us”

“Yeah” a blonde one that seemed a little out of it also came close to you, “we are so grateful to you” she whispered with a reassuring smile, “For… distracting him…”

“I’m late” you choked out. You heard them gasp loudly, “I don’t know… I’m two weeks late and I feel like shit, I’m probably…”

“pregnant” murmured the blonde one 

Frankie must have known how you felt. Maybe they all did. She placed her soft hand on your shoulder to comfort you, and it worked. You draw a shaky breath, wiping the tears with the back of your hand

“What is he going to do?” you asked, “Is he going to… push me down the stairs or something?”

“We don’t know” she whispered, “we are the ones that take care of it” she explained, “he had never express his want to… have kids”

“He is the one that makes sure we use contraceptives” the black haired woman said

“I’ll go with you to the doctor” Frankie said, and you just nodded, “It’s the only way to be sure”. grabbing the hand she offered you tightly, and under the sad eyes of all of Negan’s wives, you left the room.

“I’m terrified” you murmured, when you came face to face with a man you knew they called Fat Joey

“Hey joey” greeted Frankie, and he eyes you both suspiciously

“Negan wouldn’t want you to walk alone” he said, “specially if you are terrified” you wanted to swallow your own words

“We are fine, Fat Joey” Frankie muttered

“Let me escort you” you squeezed her hand, but he walked behind you silently in your journey to the doctor’s office 

You managed to shake him off of you in the consult, you closed the door on his face.

“Good morning ladies, what can I do for you?”, this doctor gave you the creeps, but he was the only one around so…

Frankie gave you a reassuring smile, nodding, so you turned to the doctor

“I think I’m late”, you whispered, he looked at you and nodded

“Very well, I have a pregnancy test you could take”

It was the most uncomfortable 5 minutes of your entire life, and you were living in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, go figure

It took less than 10 minutes for the two lines to appear, and you truly felt like you were going to lose it. Frankie didn’t say anything, neither did you, but she hugged you tightly and you hugged her back

“Everything is going to be alright, it’s still early”, she whispered sweetly in your ear, caressing your hair, you only nodded, it was true, it was only a couple of weeks… Frankie looked at the doctor

“Is there anything you could give her?”, she asked. The doctor looked at you and then at her. 

“No”

“That’s a lie”, she accused

“Yes”, he said simply

“You have to do something!” you demanded, “Give me something…”

“I’m sorry, I can’t do anything without Negan’s permission” 

“WHAT?” you argued, “It’s my body…”

“It’s Negan’s baby” he said seriously, “I can’t do anything or give you anything without him knowing” He perfectly could, but he had clear instructions from Negan, and he valued his own life more than yours. 

. . .

Negan knew something was wrong when he passed the lounge where his wives were and they all looked at him in terror.

Did someone die?

Did someone escape? or tried to?

He hadn't punished someone publicly this week, so he knew this wasn’t that. And if someone actually had died, betrayed him or escaped, he would have known by now, so, what was it? He looked directly at Frankie, she averted her gaze, but her eyes looked at the wall to the right. He just nodded, silently, and kept walking until he found himself at your door. He knocked twice, but you didn’t answer, so he just went in.

He found you with your back turned to the door, in a fetal position on the bed 

“Hey sunshine” he greeted carefully, and he saw you flinch. You turned, slowly, and he was surprised to see you crying. Did you find out about all the things he had done in Alexandria? No, impossible, “What is going on?” he asked, you were there, in front of him, so you didn’t tried to scape, and you didn’t kill anyone so he wondered what got you so fucking scared of him right now

“I’m sorry” you whispered, “Negan” you called, “I love you” oh how much he could have given to hear you say those words, but the way you say them, it was desperate, you sounded like Amber, you didn’t mean it, in fact, you wanted to calm him down

“What is going on?” he repeated the question, harder this time, making you flinch raising your shoulders and trying to hide between them 

“I’m pregnant” you whispered, you dropped the revelation and then you wanted to bend over your own body to protect yourself from him, and that is what kind of broke him. “I’m sorry”

Of all the reactions he may had that you played in your mind, him chuckling and smiling widely wasn’t one of them 

“You are not mad?” you asked back, and he shook his head

One of the most scary things about Negan is that he was totally unpredictable, you could never guess what’s coming 

In one scenario he grabbed you by the arm and threw you down the stairs, and then made sure to beat you up until there was nothing left inside of you. In another he’d let the doctor get his hands on you, but you never, ever, thought he’d be happy about it

“Aw honey, this is wonderful news!” you jumped when he yelled that, opening his arms in celebration, he never stopped looking at you, “An heir!” he continued, “A little savior, a little Negan or Lucille” you shook in your place when he called his deceased wife’s name

And suddenly, you were more scared.

“A little Lucille?” you muttered, he had told you everything about his late wife, and the thought he might be using you to relive some weird fantasy chilled your bones. Suddenly you felt your eyes wet with tears, and not being able to stop them, fat, bitter tears started running down your cheeks, “No…” you whined. His face dropped when he saw how you started to lose it, you started to hyperventilate 

“Hey, sweetheart, I need you to relax”

“You have to talk to the doctor, so he’ll give me something…” you tried to explain

“Why would I do that, baby?” he asked

“I can’t have your baby” you whined, wiping your tears

“Why the hell not?” he asked, this time his face became so serious so fast you shook in fear

“Negan…” you called, expecting him to understand, “please” he softened his gaze on you, with his gloved hand he caressed your cheek as he smiled sweetly at you, but that didn’t calm you, he was unpredictable and you’ll do well in remembering that. He leaned in and kissed you softly, gently, as he was scared of breaking you

“You are going to be an amazing mother sweety” he whispered against your lips and you only whined, “anything you want, everything is yours!” he announced, standing up, “I’ll tell all of them, to bring you anything you could need” 

“You are going to let me carry this baby?” you asked

“Of course”, he said simply

“Please Negan”, you whispered, “I can’t bring a child into this world”

“It will have hundreds of people that will take care of him”, he said, “we are in the sanctuary baby”

“Negan please”, you begged, he just say on the edge of the bed, cradling your face with his big hands

“This a good thing baby”, he whispered, leaning in and catching your lips with his

“Negan”, you whined against his lips

“You are going to be such a good mommy”, he purred, abandoning your lips and going down your throat with heated open kisses

And you snapped out of your hornyness, you grabbed his face and pushed him off of you

“Darling..!”

“Fuck off Negan!”, you grunted, but your heated face told him your resolution wouldn’t last long, you were as horny as he was. He smiled wickedly

He knew he had chosen well, you were going to protect that baby with your life, your lioness instincts already kicking in 

“C’mon mommy”, he purred, “come to daddy”

“I hate you”, you said, with no conviction in your voice

“No you don’t”

And perhaps that is what was so messed up about all of this

You were scared to death, yes, but you were also… excited

And Negan could see that

He approached you again and held you in his arms, he leaned in and again he kissed you. It was soft at first but then it turned heated, you grabbed him roughly, pulling on the hairs on the back of his neck making him grunt needily

“You like it rough, don’t you?”, he mocked, you didn’t want to talk, you just took his leather jacket and threw it on the floor caresly

Another day he would have make a big fuss about it, but today he knew better

“he leaned over you, wanting to pin you down to the bed, but you didn’t let him, instead you managed to pin him down, straddling him 

“Oh baby”, he purred, “or should I say… mommy?”

“Shut up”, you growled, leaning in and kissing him roughly. he immediately responded with teeth and licks of his own, but as you separated from him, you bit his lower lip until blood came up 

He whined under you, not pained but horny and almost pathetic, you grind your hips against his own, feeling his cock hardening between you, giving you goosebumps

“Hormones?”, he teased, but you shushed him up, you wanted him, you needed to feel him, you needed to distract yourself from everything that has happening

You almost ripped his pants off of him, making him chuckle, setting himself comfortably on the bed, you stood up to toss your own pants away from you, and then you crawled back over him. HIs greedy hands tossed your upper clothes, and finally he had you naked all to himself. You leaned in and kissed him roughly

“Yes mommy”, he teased, and you couldn’t help but slap him, not hard, and he only smiled wickedly, “I loved this side of you baby”, he purred, placing his hands on your hips

“You are so fucking mean Negan”, you accused, “you misogynistic prick!”, but you couldn't stay angry at him, you leaned in and kissed him before he could make some snarky remark. He responded at the kiss immediately, his greedy hands caressing you all over he could, your thighs, your sides, your hips. You rubbed your pussy against his hard cock, and you couldn’t help it anymore, you needed him.

You used your hand to pumped his thick cock a few times, before impaling yourself with it

“Fuck!”, you cursed at the same time, perhaps Negan was so attracted to you because you both sounded alike sometimes

You started riding him angrily, almost like you wanted to hurt him, but that turned him on even more. You started moving your hips back and forth. and the friction in your clit almost made you loss it

“FUCK THAT’S IT BABY”, he whined, and you gasped, feeling your orgasm build incredibly quickly

“I hate you”, you cried when you cummed

“I know”, he whispered, entertained, letting you fuck him for once, admiring the goddess riding him.

But you rode him until you cummed again, finally making him finish inside of you.

You let yourself fall on top of him, as you both recuperated, he just held you, caressing your naked back

“I mean it”, he gasped

“What?”, you asked back

“I will do anything to protect you”, he promised, “I leave Rick alone, I promise, you will be a great mother, I really believe that”, you smiled, not letting him see it, of course.

. . .

“Arat” the girl was on his side on a second, that determined look in her eyes that Negan liked so much, “If something happens to me… “ he started, and she frowned, like he just spoke treason, “If this world is fucked up and for reason I fucking die and Rick the prick is still alive I want you to do something for me, ok?”

“You want me to kill him Sir?” she asked, and he chuckled

“No, I want you to take (Y/N) to him” he whispered, “without me controlling everything she is in danger, I want you to make sure she comes back to her people”

Damn, being a father does change you and your priorities 

He thought with a smirk on his face and a swing of his bat

TAGLIST @neganswoman @nijiru @imvomitting @aleemendoza2425-blog @0vecam @heavenhatesme

[stargazer-sims]

Count On Me

Like your favourite chair, I'll hold you close whether you lose or win. I'm that breath of air flowing out and flowing right back in. I hope you know that I am here, always close and always near.

♫ Count on Me - Diana Ross ♫

_______________

This will make more sense if you've already read Full Circle and Broken Glass

CONTENT WARNING - violence, death

_______________

"Ugh... I suck." Fox sinks onto his sister's couch with all the grace of a seal flopping onto a beach rock. He leans his head against one of the decorative cushions on the back of of the sofa and lets out a groan. "I never imagined I'd screw up a conversation so much. And with my own kid, no less."

Now that he's calm, he realizes how exhausted he is. He navigates difficult situations all the time at work with kids in care, biological parents, foster parents, and professionals connected to each of his clients, but none of those interactions ever seem to drain him as much as this one conversation with his teenage son has.

He'd shared everything with Clancy in the car on the way over to her house, all about his confrontation with Forest and what had led up to it in the first place, and about his frustration and sense of inadequacy to handle it. Clancy was sympathetic, but he could tell she also had a lot she wanted to say. To her credit, though, she hadn't offered any of her own opinions in the car. She'd let him talk

Clancy hands him a mug of tea and then sets her own mug on the coffee table before sitting down next to him. "You don't suck. Your kid sucks."

"No, he doesn't."

"Okay, maybe not him personally, but it sounds like his attitude could use a serious adjustment."

"I don't know where we went wrong," Fox says. "None of our other kids are like this. Not that they're angelic or anything, but the other five combined don't give us as much trouble as Forest does. I thought we were parenting them all more or less the same way, but we must've dropped the ball with Forest."

"I don't know why you think it has to be your fault, or Takahiro's," Clancy says.

"Because we're his parents."

"And?"

"And we're supposed to teach him how to be his best self," he says.

"Kids are individuals, you know," Clancy points out. "You can try your hardest, but at the end of the day, they're the only ones who can decide if they're gonna be the best version of themselves or not. Forest is seventeen. He's going to make his own choices whether you like them or not."

"Yeah, but I hoped he'd make better ones."

"We all want that," Clancy says. "I want Grey and Frankie to make good choices too, but they're getting to an age where I have less and less influence over them. Especially Frankie. A sixteen year old with a driver's license and a part-time job? That kid thinks she owns the world."

"I'll bet she's never openly questioned your love though, or looked you in the face and told you to shut up."

"She knows better than to do that," Clancy declares. "She's free to make her own choices, with the understanding that every choice has consequences. I might not be able to spank her any more, but she knows I'm not above handing out other punishments."

"You know Taka and I don't punish our kids."

"Maybe you should," she says. "I know you guys are into that gentle parenting or whatever, but sometimes trying to reason with a kid is about as effective as banging your head against a brick wall. I'm not saying you're failures as parents, because you're totally not, but I think a few well-placed slaps on the bum when he was little might've done Forest some good."

"Violence isn't the answer, Clancy."

"Nobody's telling you to commit violence," she counters. "People shouldn't be indiscriminately hitting their kids every time they make some little mistake. All I'm saying is that on the occasions when using your words isn't getting the job done, sometimes you have to use other methods."

Fox sets his tea down on the end table and then turns to fix his sister with a level gaze. "Such as assaulting children?"

"Oh my God." Clancy lets out her breath in an audible huff. "I see where Forest got that hard head from."

"Excuse me?"

"Fox, you're deliberately missing the point," says his sister. "Look, I know spanking was never in your playbook, and it's fine. It hasn't been in mine either since Frankie was maybe six or seven years old. My point was, sometimes just talking to a kid isn't enough. Sometimes they need a stronger message."

"Such as?"

"Such as consequences that make them think about their actions. Some people have to learn things the hard way."

"I guess that makes sense," Fox concedes.

"Of course it makes sense," Clancy says. "Forest needs to understand he's not entitled to a free ride through life and that he can't get away with throwing a tantrum when things don't go his way, and you and Takahiro need to teach him that before someone else does, 'cause they won't love him like you do and... you know."

"We'll give him a safety net, and other people won't."

"Exactly."

Fox sighs. "Why can't parenting be easier?"

"If I knew how to make it easier, I'd write a book, make millions of dollars off it, and retire from the police force." Clancy gives him a half-smile. "Incidentally, if you think you've got it hard, you should try parenting by yourself.

"Sorry," Fox says. "I wasn't thinking of—"

"No, don't apologize. I was the one who brought it up." She reaches for her own mug of tea. Several seconds pass as she holds the mug between both hands and gazes into it. "The actual parenting part wasn't any less difficult when Garrett was alive. It's just... I miss being able to discuss things with him, and I miss us backing each other up."

"I don't know how you got through it," Fox tells her. "I'd be devastated if anything happened to Takahiro. I have no idea how I'd survive losing him."

"You'd survive," Clancy says. "I can't tell you how, but you'd do it somehow. If you were on your own, you'd have no choice. You'd find a way to do it for your kids."

His sister is right. As much as he knows a part of him would want to lie down and surrender, he would go on for the sake of his children, just like Clancy did. "I guess I would."

"You would," Clancy reiterates. "Sink or swim, you know? It's what you've got to do."

Fox nods. "I know."

He recalls the day, eight years ago, when his brother-in-law Garrett died. It had started as a perfectly normal Friday in early August, and Fox had been at the office finishing some paperwork and writing notes on the files one of his co-workers, Chloë St-Jean, would be overseeing for him while he was on vacation for the following two weeks. His mind hadn't been entirely on the task. He'd been too busy daydreaming about his family's upcoming camping adventure. He pictured himself playing and exploring with Taka and their kids, spending hot, hazy afternoons painting by the lake, making s'mores and singing campfire songs, and then snuggling by the slowly fading fire with Taka after all the kids were tucked into their sleeping bags.

Lost inside his own head, he barely acknowledged the approaching sound of police sirens on the street outside his office window. About fifteen minutes later, the distinctive wail of ambulance sirens racing past the building didn't entirely register either. It was only when Chloë dashed through the open doorway of his office with her phone in her hand and a wild look in her eyes that he pulled himself away from his reverie.

She announced herself with, "I just got a call from my brother."

"What happened?" Fox asked, and then because Chloë seemed so upset, "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he and Belle are fine, thank God. They're shaken up, probably like everyone else, but they're not hurt."

"What happened?" he asked again.

"Fox! There was a literal high-speed chase outside your window, like twenty minutes ago, and you didn't notice?"

"A high-speed chase? In downtown Willow Creek?" He was thoroughly confused and knew he sounded incredulous, but he couldn't help it. "I heard the sirens, but I didn't realize—"

"Davian said the car the cops were chasing crashed straight through the front of the building where his studio is," she explained, breathless. "Some people in the building got hurt, and Dav said they could hear shooting outside and he thinks somebody might've died, but he didn't know if it was a police officer or one of the bad guys or somebody else."

As things unfolded, Fox learned that more than one person had lost their life. While Chloë was still in his office, trying to calm herself down after the phone call with her brother, Fox's own phone rang. It was his sister.

"Fox, I need you." Clancy's normally strong, assertive demeanour had been replaced by a voice so weak and small that he almost didn't recognize it. "I got a call from dispatch. It... it's Garrett. There was a situation... something happened downtown."

She offered as much information as she knew, and asked Fox to meet her at the hospital. When he arrived at the ER, he found Clancy, her partner Harry, and two uniformed officers standing in the waiting area, apparently heedless of the handful of unoccupied chairs. To an outside observer, Clancy might've seemed steady and composed, but Fox could tell she was a hair's breadth away from losing it. He couldn't speak for Harry or the two patrol officers, but he knew why Clancy wasn't sitting. The instant she let herself relax, she'd fall apart.

The uniformed cops started to move toward him as if they might try to stop him from getting to his sister, but Harry reached out and put a hand on one of their shoulders. "That's her twin brother. It's fine."

Fox hadn't wanted to be right, but the moment Clancy was in his arms, she let out a sound that was so filled with anguish that it couldn't have been mistaken for anything else. Then, she began to sob. It was as if every tear she'd never allowed herself to shed throughout her life finally burst out of her in an almighty flood.

He'd never seen his sister like that before, and he hoped to God he'd never witness anything like it again. He didn't know what to do, so he just held her as tightly as he could and let her cry.

Clancy was wholly incapable of getting any coherent words out, so it was Harry who told him, "He didn't make it. Garrett, I mean." The detective clenched his huge fists and growled, "That bastard got him."

Harry went on to explain that Garrett and his partner had responded to a 911 call from an employee at a downtown bank who reported an armed robbery in progress. Just as they arrived on scene, the two armed suspects exited the bank and jumped into a waiting car where a third person was already behind the wheel. That, Fox learned, resulted in the chase Chloë had seen from her office window. Harry couldn't say if the getaway driver had lost control of the vehicle or if he'd smashed through the front of a building on purpose, but the collision had effectively ended the chase.

The driver of the getaway car was killed on impact. The back seat passenger, who was still armed with his gun from the robbery, scrambled out of the car and attempted to escape, but he was injured too. He fired at other officers who'd arrived on the scene, but he didn't get far before they were able to disarm and apprehend him.

Meanwhile, Garrett and his partner were checking on the front seat passenger. The guy was obviously injured, and according to what Harry found out from Garrett's partner, they thought the man was unconscious. When Garrett reached in through the smashed car window to check for a pulse, the man suddenly opened his eyes, grabbed Garrett's wrist with one hand and whipped out a previously concealed knife with the other. Before anyone had time to react, the man plunged the long, sharp blade directly into Garrett's neck.

The paramedics made a valiant effort to save him, but he'd passed away in the ambulance, less than a kilometre from the hospital.

"This job's a fucking nightmare some days," Harry concluded. "We all know the danger, but it's like you put it out of your mind so you can get shit done. And then you develop this thing where you start to believe it's never gonna happen to you. Or to somebody you love."

Clancy and Garrett had loved each other passionately, and they both knew the risks. They'd met when Clancy was still a patrol officer too, and despite the warnings of their parents and their fellow officers that getting involved with another cop wasn't a great idea, they would not be deterred.

Six months after they met, Clancy earned all her qualifications to become a detective. Six months after that, she and Garrett got married in a stunningly elaborate ceremony. complete with a police honour guard made up of their colleagues and friends.

They were over the moon when baby Francine came along, and just as elated at the birth of Greyson three years later. It was obvious to everybody who knew them how devoted they were to each other and to their little family, and their bond only grew stronger as time went on.

They loved like there was no tomorrow, as Garrett's mother had put it, or in Garrett's own words, "Make it count. Do all the living you can while you've got a life to live."

Fox was left utterly shaken by the description of his brother-in-law's last minutes. He couldn't imagine what it must've been like for Clancy to hear it again.

"Can I take her home?" he asked Harry.

At that, Clancy raised her head from his shoulder. "No," she said weakly. "I can't go. Not until I see my husband."

So, they waited.

When a doctor eventually came out and said Clancy would be permitted to view the body, both Fox and Harry went with her. When she saw her husband lying on the gurney, with a pristine white bandage across his throat, Clancy let out a scream so feral that Fox struggled to accept it was coming from a human. The sound of his sister's pain and the image of her cradling the pale, still body of her husband had haunted his dreams for months after that.

When they finally did depart the hospital, Fox had to guide her to his car. She stumbled along beside him, seemingly unaware of anything, mumbling things to herself that Fox was unable to comprehend.

He'd been afraid to leave her, so he took her to his own house. Knowing Frankie and Grey were safe with Garrett's parents, he made the decision to let them stay there undisturbed for the time being. Clancy was in no condition to help her kids, and Fox knew they'd be even more traumatized by what had happened if they saw their mother in that state.

As soon as they walked through the front door, Takahiro was there to meet them. He held out his arms to Clancy and she stepped straight into his waiting embrace. Open-hearted Takahiro, with his gift for comforting others, didn't say he was sorry or utter any meaningless platitudes. All he said was, "We're here for you."

Fox could visually observe the tension leaving Clancy's body. She sagged in Taka's arms and whispered, "Thank you, Takahiro."

It wasn't until the next morning that Clancy was ready to be with her kids, and even then she wasn't able to tell them about Garrett herself. It was actually Takahiro who’d broken the news to them and, in his gentle way, answered their questions about what dying meant.

Fox was grateful. He wasn't sure he could've handled it as gracefully as Taka did, and when he said as much to his husband later, Taka's response had been, "It's all right. Sometimes people need help from someone who's one step away. Close enough to care, but not so close that they can’t see things in perspective."

That piece of wisdom is something Fox has carried with him ever since. He thinks he fulfills that role in the lives of his clients, his niece and nephew and his friends, and he's taught himself to recognize when he needs someone to step into that role for him. As much as he wants to prove he's grown enough to manage things on his own, the truth is that he can't keep all the proverbial balls in the air by himself. No one can.

"Hey."

Fox realizes he's allowed too long a pause in the conversation when his sister's one-word sentence interrupts his reminiscence. He glances over at her. "Sorry."

"You okay?" she asks.

"Yeah. I was just thinking."

"About...?"

"Garrett," he admits. "Sorry if that's weird."

"It's not," Clancy says. "I was thinking about him too."

"Because of what I said?"

"Not really," she says. "There isn't a single day where I don't think about him at least once. Sometimes it's the most random thing that'll remind me of him. Like, when I accidentally burn the toast at breakfast, or when I catch myself squeezing the toothpaste in the middle. That annoyed Garrett so much. He used to say I was wasting it."

Fox smiles. "Taka gets after me for being a middle-squeezer too."

Clancy releases an abrupt laugh. "A middle-squeezer?"

"That's what he calls it. He's an end-squeezer, and he thinks that's the only correct way to squeeze out toothpaste. He also thinks there's only one correct way to put a roll of toilet paper on the holder too."

"There is. I had it on good authority from my late husband."

"We have to heed the experts," Fox says.

"Yeah," says Clancy. "God, I miss him. Sometimes I still come up with stuff I want to tell him, and I have these moments where I think 'I can't wait to tell Garrett when I get home from work'. But then I remember, and... yeah."

"So then you call and tell me."

"I'm glad you don't ignore my calls, even when it's about something dumb like seeing a stray chicken in the parking lot at Tim Hortons."

It's Fox's turn to laugh. "Can you imagine the lame jokes Garrett would've made about that? But yeah... you know I'll never ignore your calls. I'm here for you, one hundred percent."

"Same goes for you," Clancy says. "And you're not wrong about the jokes. Garrett thought he'd be a great stand-up comic, you know. He used to write down all his best material, as he called it. Kept it in a notebook in the apartment."

"The garage apartment?"

"Yeah. Well, it wasn't the garage apartment then, but you know what I mean."

As far as Fox knows, Clancy and Garrett's attached garage had never actually had a vehicle in it. The previous owners had been using it primarily for storage, and when Clancy and Garrett bought the house, Garrett decided it'd make a perfect family room. They had the garage door removed and replaced by a regular wall, had a small bathroom built in one corner, and moved in their big-screen TV, exercise equipment, pool table and an old sofa Clancy got from one of their cousins. Fox and Taka had spent many evenings hanging out with Clancy and Garrett, chatting and watching movies while all the kids played together nearby.

After Garrett passed, Clancy had the space converted into a bachelor flat so she could rent it out and supplement her income. She hired a contractor to construct a kitchenette and to install a separate entrance so her tenants wouldn't have to enter or exit through the house.

"Do you go in there much?" Fox asks. "To the garage apartment?"

"Only to collect the rent, or to fix stuff or clean up after somebody leaves," she says. "I gotta go in there this weekend, actually. I thought the student I had was going to stay for the whole school year, but she up and left. Decided she was going to move in with her boyfriend instead. She left it looking okay, but I still have to clean the floors and give the bathroom a good scrub."

"If you need help, let me know."

"Why? Are you going to send your kids to..." She lets the sentence fade and then grins at him. "Oh, wait."

"What?"

"I just had a genius idea," Clancy declares. "It's brilliant. Kind of a win-win, you might say."

"So, tell me what it is."

"You really could send one of your kids to the garage apartment. I mean, if Forest wants to move out so badly, maybe he should."

"And you think he should move in here?"

"Why not?" says Clancy. "He has a part-time job, doesn't he? He could pay me a little bit of rent every month. You wouldn't have him disrespecting you under your roof any more, and he'd learn how to be responsible for himself."

"I don't think he could do that, being totally on his own."

"He wouldn't be totally on his own. I'd keep an eye on him to make sure he's not going completely off the rails." She winks conspiratorially. "We just wouldn't tell him he's being surveilled."

"He wouldn't last a week," Fox says.

"Weren't you ready to let him run off to Japan by himself earlier today?" Clancy inquires.

"Do you think I actually believed he would?"

"You called his bluff."

"I did," Fox confesses.

"I'll bet Mom and Dad didn't believe you'd run away, but you did. They didn't think you'd make it on your own either, but you did that too."

"Fair point, but the difference between me and Forest is that my life was actually terrible and I had a valid reason to run away. I had to get out of there, and I was ready to change. Plus, I was twenty-five and fully educated."

"True, but the end goal is still the same," Clancy insists. "Look how much getting out from under our parents' roof did for you."

Fox considers it. He likes Clancy's plan in theory and he's thankful that she's willing to covertly supervise Forest, but he's not totally convinced his son could cope with being independent. As much as he wants Forest to learn that particular lesson, it'll defeat the purpose of the experiment if Forest begs to come home after only a few days.

"I'll have to discuss it with Taka," he says.

"I'd be concerned if you didn't," Clancy replies. "You can let me know what you decide, but don't take too long, okay? I want to advertise it for rent again if Forest isn't going to be moving in."

"Okay," Fox says. "Hopefully, we'll be able to let you know by the weekend."

[pure-garbage]

Secret Arsenal! Prepare For The Worst

The straw hat's shipwright was never hard to find. Franky's workshop was consistently the noisiest place aboard the Thousand Sunny. Lana approached it with trepidation. Lately, she'd been thinking a lot about the ply of the trade she was notorious for. Lockbreaking had become a mantle synonymous with the rest of her name, and after the mess she'd been a part of at Enies Lobby, her bounty was steadily rising.

The entire world knew Lana as a woman who carried lockpicking pins on her person, and the fact that this was so well known was starting to make her a touch paranoid. She had an idea that save her from ever having all her pins confiscated again if anyone managed to capture her. The seed had been planted at the marine base G-8, but for a long time, she'd assumed her ambition was unattainable.

At least, she had asssumed so until she met cyborg Franky.

A knock wouldn't cut it. The din coming from inside Franky's workshop would drown it out completely.

"Shipwright!"

Lana announced herself with a shout as she pushed the door open, but the banging, grinding and clanging were too overwhelming for her to make herself heard. She huffed in annoyance and clasped her hands.

"Calm-calm library Feng-sui!"

The room went completely silent, only Franky's humming remaining. He stopped, confused until he noticed Lana.

"Hey! Quiet lady! I see you're not shy about letting yourself in," he grinned. "Not that I mind, visitors are always super! What brings you down here?"

"I have a project I was hoping you could help me with," Lana informed him, cutting right to the chase.

"Neat-o! If you can dream it, I can build it! You came to the right guy. So, you draw up any blueprints yet?"

"Not exactly. It's not really something I need built... more like an augmentation I'd like you to make," Lana explained. "If you can, of course."

"If I can? Sister, you must not know who you're talking to," Franky grinned, pushing his glasses up. "Tell me about your idea and I'll get to work."

"Alright. So what I'm thinking is this..."

_______________________________________

Zoro was puzzled when he saw the bandages covering Lana's left arm.

"Cut yourself training?" he asked. It wasn't like her to be so careless.

"Nah, I had some work done!" Lana grinned enthusiastically. Zoro's hackles were immediately raised.

"Work? What the hell does that mean?" he demanded.

"You'll see when it heals," she promised with a coy smile.

It took a week for Lana to remove the bandages. A few times, Zoro was tempted to sneak a peek while she was asleep, but with absolutely no idea what he might see, he decided to play it safe so as not to disrupt whatever healing process was playing out beneath the gauze.

"You ready to see?" Lana teased when the day came at last.

He looked up from the task at hand, the careful cleaning of the black blade he'd acquired on Thriller Bark.

"Oh boy," he sighed. "Alright, lay it on me."

"Here goes... ta-da!"

Lana let the wrappings fall away, revealing...

"Oh. It's... a tattoo?" Zoro realized, cocking his head to the side. The choice was baffling to him on so many levels. The design was simple, a black dagger, the blade of which pointed to her wrist.

'She never mentioned wanting a tattoo. Why a knife? She doesn't feel that strongly about them, does she? Why all the suspense? Did she think I would be excited over this? Oh no, should I be acting excited? Did I already blow this big reveal by not acting excited? I don't want to get into another fight with her.'

"The tattoo is just camouflage," Lana explained. "Hiding... this!"

She curled her fingers, pressing her index and middle to the base of her palm. Zoro's jaw dropped and his eyes popped out of his skull as the blade of the knife tattoo flipped open, revealing a slim compartment hidden within the flesh of Lana's arm. Inside, an assortment of lockpicking pins lay in wait.

"My secret lock breaking arsenal! It's important that you keep it a secret though... you, me and Franky are the only ones who know about it and it needs to stay that way. If the world finds out about it, it won't be of any use to me."

Zoro gaped as Lana spoke, fighting to restrain his horror at the development. The change struck him as drastic and invasive, but even so...

"So? Whaddya think?"

Lana's smile was filled with bright expectations.

'She's mine, but that does't make it my place to dictate how she shapes herself,' Zoro thought, beginning to recover from his shock. 'I own her heart, not her flesh.'

If Lana could accept him, scars, rough edges and all, he owed her the same in return. Zoro fixed on a smile for her sake.

"If you're happy with it, it's incredible," he sighed. He reached out and closed the compartment gently, running his fingers over the tattoo, feeling for seams on her skin.

"It's completely imperceptible," Lana assured him. "Franky did a really excellent job."

"Does it hurt?"

"Nah."

"Was it really painful? While he was working on it."

"He put me under. I didn't feel a thing 'til I came to."

"Can you... feel me? Touching you."

"Sort of. I feel pressure."

"Huh. You got... any more work you want him to do?" Zoro asked, carefully restraining the resentment threatening to seep into his tone.

"Nah, this is the end of my creativity," Lana admitted.

Zoro couldn't hold back a sigh of relief.

____________________________________________________

<== Previous Chapter

Next Chapter ==>

== First Chapter ==

[thelivingmemegod]

I am handing you this video and begging for every single thought you can spare about these lines and yadda yadda yadda gimmie your brain

I’m pretty much writing these in video order, so this will mostly flow with it. Long post ahead y’all!

Faboolous Pets:

This feels…random. Like…what was the concept-fashion wise? I do like that they mirrored some things from the pets to a couple of the dolls (Draculara’s bar sleeves, Clawdeen’s blue fur vest)

Draculara’s outfit overall is adorable. I don’t like Clawdeen’s outfit, Cleo looks incredibly discombobulated. Slapdash. Random as hell. What was this.

Feariridescent:

No. Why. What the hell.

I hate this hair. SO MUCH I hate this hair. Clawdeen’s hair should not be all purple. Draculara’s is WAY too pink. Lagoona’s hair is causing this weird effect where my brain wants her skin to be more saturated but nothing else says her skin should be more saturated. I don’t know what they did with Cleo’s hair, is it white???? I hate it-

Frankie’s hair is fine though, they’re all good.

I can’t tell if this is the photo, but three of the lip colors look absolutely insane: Cleo, Clawdeen and Lagoona’s lips all look crazy.

That aside! Conceptually: this is cool! Adding iridescent elements on and trying to keep their personal style. They didn’t do it very well cuz the prices just look like a very particular type of plastic I can’t name which sucks

I don’t like Clawdeen’s hair thing or Draculara’s earmuff thingys. But that’s mostly personal.

Creepover party:

Honestly. They’re super inoffensive to me? Like I wouldn’t go out of my way to get the base three, but if I was gifted them I’d greatly enjoy them. Twyla is adorable and I love her I’d love you forever if you gave her to me.

Don’t love the robes. I like em just fine. I do sorta wish there was more variety in the kinds of pjs they wore? Like Draculara strikes me as a silk sleep short set girl. Ditch the robe.

Clawdeen has like. Bathrobe, Bonnet, Bags under her eyes, don’t-wake-her-up-in-the-morning vibes.

Frankie is fine (I think they can keep their robe), but their shoes feel weird cuz uh. Babes why are you wearing full boots to sleep-

Ghoul Spirit:

This. This is bad.

Toralei’s hair. Her face mold is also really odd, she looks nothing like the show.

Deuce looks a little wonky in the face and his hair is the wrong color, but eh.

He and Frankie share the issue of the sweaters looking frumpy, but that’s an issue of scale so I’m not knocking em there.

Draculuara just…looks incredibly awkward. Her bangs, Bat bow and uniform look very, very awkward on her.

I hate Clawdeen’s Jersey. Why is there furr in the arm holes. The goggles are random but…Kay.

Cleo looks off model so to speak? Her face looks wrong and she’s so…dressed down? Cleo wouldn’t wear a Jersey dress. She just wouldn’t. It’s wrong-

Neon Frights:

Uh. Ummmmm… ignoring the weird double sided sleepwear-going out thing. I’m gonna focus of the going out looks.

I’m going off the stock photos we don’t talk about real life.

Again, Twyla is cute, very cute. But I’d ditch the chain, crowds the outfit, just give her the jacket.

Again with Toralei’s face mold and hair. I don’t love her outfit due to its proportions mostly, looks slightly awkward.

Frankie looks just fine! The lime green was. A choice but that’d mostly cuz of the material hat the shoes and purse are made from, especially balanced with the same material but blue for their leg.

I actually really like this Ghoulia- I’m a sucker for splatter paint, the pixel type charm things on her harness, the controller earrings and pixel glasses, the colors are well balanced- Love that for her!

Here’s the boss…

I. Draculara.

I’m.

Ya know how I said the colors were well balanced on Ghoulia? Welll they’re not here. Why is her lipstick purple. Why is her harness charm purple. That’s random as hell-

I don’t like the green they chose, it doesn’t work very well anywhere they put it. I hate that her hair is mainly black and her top and skirt and both too busy for anything.

Note: While I was working on this post, my lovely Qpp, and asked of this question actually got a Neon Frights Toralei and. She was in awful condition straight out the box. One of her legs and arms were unpainted and her tail immediately fell out entirely. It’s bad

G2….happened. Collectively. It happened. The molds are. There. They’re lazy, they’re alllll lazy. Just. No.

THERE WAS A FUCKING EMOJI LINE- I hate G2 so much. (Said as a bitch who owns Emoji leggings and loves them)

The only thing I liked here was the Lagoona little sister doll from Monster Family because she’s a real character, Lagoona has little siblings at least in G1 and I like her hair.

Electrified feels like an insult. It feels like a slap in the face.

Electrified was a real concept in G1. It was part of the freaky fusion line because in that movie they had to recharge or Electrify Frankie to save her and she had this beautiful redesign I loved. They put them in tHE FUCKING 80s. I have nothing against the 80s or it’s style, insane as it was. This is just a really bad and lazy version of that. Just. Look at them-

E W EWEWWEWEWEWEWEW LOTS OF LOOKS DRACULARA CAN BURN IN HELL THATS A LIE WHO ARE YOU WHAT THE FUCK

Boo York, Boo York:

I’d never actually seen the Boo York, Boo York dolls before. And yeah Clawdeen and Draculara look bad, they’re both incredibly basic and uninspired. The fabrics are very awkward, Draculara’s skin is washed out by all the pink, Clawdeen…looks like that. AND STOP TAKING THE PINK OUT OF DRACULARA’S HAIR DAMNIT.

Catty doesn’t look great but better then them. Her hair is terrible and her face looks crazy cuz of that pink lipstick and the super flat silver eyeshadow.

Luna, Mousades and Elle E.D all got done dirty, done horrendous. Especially Gala Mousades

Cleo and Nefera from this line got Justice though they’re slaying.

Geek Shriek:

…Girl (gn) What.

What was this line. Why did you do this. What the hell.

Also the lineup is RANDOM AS HELL-

Ghoul’s Alive:

Was. Was this a Baby Alive but make it monster high? Is that was this was? I hate that concept.

Spectra looks normal. Frankie and Toralei look okay.

Deuce and Clawdeen. What the fuck.

Great Scarrier Reef:

My heart hurts for this line it really does. Cuz this concept RULES if you’re here for the creativity and the dolls themselves. Vampire squid Draculara??? Tigerfish Toralei??? Electric Eel Frankie!!! A Kraken character?!!

But it’s not…great for the fashion aspect. Even I wouldn’t know what to do with it in that regard.

Then the dolls come out and they’re…a lil wonky lookin’ at best (the core girls, not the new two…three.)

They mostly busy up top and empty at the bottom, Clawdeen is fucking purple. Draculara escapes this but still loops wonky cuz she’s not actually structured like a squid, it’s like only her feet changed and her legs just got fused together

Kala, Peri and Pearl are cool, they deserve their flowers. Peri and Pearl’s two headed body is an awesome idea and they escape being empty on the bottom…at the cost of being twice as busy up top-

Yeah it. Ugh…she is right though, this was the beginning of the end.

Freaky Fushion:

Now this REALLY hurts cuz it’s movie and the message with it is dear to me.

They 100% needed more drafts, more concerting time or whatever it would’ve taken to get to the idea of making these into their own entirely different monsters.

And I think it would’ve helped the movie along because in essence they just became different monsters with the abilities they have to now learn to control.

Cleolai would’ve become a sphinx, Lagoonafire a Leviathan, Clawvenus something akin to Swamp Thing.

And a big problem with this line is how they’re styled. Drcaubecca should look SO Victorian it should’ve given fashion historians a heart attack-

Lagoonafire looks. Generic but wrong. She looks like they were taking from stereotypes that were just wrong or were so paired down that they said nothing.

Cleolai looks. Like neither of her parts. No high fashion, expensive Cleo, no scrappy, punk, patched together Toralei in that look whatsoever.

Clawvenus…what- what was that. What is that.

There’s also…no harmony to balance out all their contrast that they just look garish and are complete eyesore’s at the end of it.

The new characters, the hybrid girls are fantastic though and I love them a lot. G1…struggled with Male dolls, it really did. But so does every fashion doll line that isn’t Rainbow high and even they still do sometimes. But as for the girls, they’re all wonderful and I love those.

This isn’t in the video but:

We do not talk about the Save Frankie specific line. We don’t. No.

[crystalballers]

open starter. ㅤㅤ‹ㅤㅤ@devostarters

int.ㅤㅤ‹ㅤㅤthe fishbowl. at any time.

“out of commission.” nile sounds out from the last machine on the middle row. a rather monotone statement and a staple of everyday nile; casually overdressed in their cropped college sweater with a fishnet top clinging at their skin right under it, sleeves rolled up high as they cleared out socks and thongs off dryers and grimacing at the itchy n' cheap choices made fabricwise. “maintenance. we’re still plucking out frankie’s scales out of it,” legally can’t help how one corner of their lips twitches faintly at the distant memory – dubbed nitemare at karoke nite by the untalented, freakish losers in attendance and some of those keeping the bowl intact, alanis and the other fuckhead specifically and nile only wishes it was either of the two's knees knocking around in that machine instead. ‘it's not funny,’ they said sternly, their arms crossed and usually stoical features fixed with a scowl for emphasis the very next morning of the incident. ‘we'll never get that machine cleaned.’ ; has to admit it's kind of funny now, in retrospect. would've been hi-larious at the spot many moons ago, even ; that tail sent awhirl, banging at the sides and shimmering scales, like fuckin' corn, shucking off of the howling siren's hips but alas and infuriated, nile had to make deft intervention then and made sure the idiot frank's battered tail hadn’t sustained prolonged damage that couldn't be healed with saltwater and much patience. no more fucking alcohol on the premises. “you can still use it, if you want. good luck if you find yourself a scale to keep, huh?” – or getting cut with one as some gaggle of tourists have decided or were most likely told was fact. eugh, nile sighs before adding, “careful, though.”

[vay99]

Nami x f!reader

Ferris wheel by the sea

Anime/Manga: One Piece

Something for my fellow 🏳️‍🌈 who are into woman

"Where the heck is that dumbass of a captain again?!" Nami yells once you've arrived at the new island. Which happened 30 seconds ago.

"This island is famous for its festivals and food, he's probably somewhere eating." Robin chuckles right before Sanji jumps off the ship.

"Festivals mean that there'll be beautiful ladies!!!" following his captain into the city Sanji keeps calling out for ladies.

"Food and Ladies, shouldn't you run towards that city like a maniac as well (y/n)?" Franky questions as you watch the guys disappear.

"Weren't you the one swooning over this island due to their world famous cola?"

"Look after the Sunny for me I'm off!! Suuuuperrr!"

"And there he goes. Do the men on this ship only have the brain capacity for one focus? Look at Mr always lost over there is fast asleep." Nami comments causing Robin to chuckle.

"They all share one brain cell and Chopper is currently in charge of it." you point towards the reindeer dochter who's mixing some medicine.

"Agreed." Robin and Nami answer in choir.

"I'll just read a bit until the party starts tonight." Robin leaves you two behind.

"I should work on my maps as well. What will you be up to?" Nami asks, playing with a strand of her dazzling hair.

"I don't know yet, but haven't you asked me to cut your hair a few days ago?" you step closer, touching the ends of a few strains.

"Oh, right, yes, if you want to, maybe you could." she scratches her neck, pulling her head back in the process which let's her hair run threw your fingers.

"Your ends are getting frizzy again, let's go."

She sits down on the chair as you lay the coat around her, preparing everything.

"How short do you want them to be? Or just the ends?"

"Just the ends please."

You begin cutting her hair as you both share the room in comfortable silence, which is a rare opportunity since the chaos mostly dominates the ship. You run your fingers through her hair as you take another layer down to cut.

"I know I say it every time but you've got beautiful hair, strong and healthy, a real eye catcher." you compliment her as you move to her bangs.

"Thank you." she whispers, not wanting to move an inch so you could easily cut her hair.

The boys returned after a while and everyone got ready for the huge party this evening. Franky got some nee tools and decided to stay on the sunny and watch the fireworks from there later on. You styled everyone's hair, Sanji is begging you to do that on a daily basis, besides Nami, she's been avoiding you since you've cut her hair.

"We'll head to the party already!" shouted Ussop as he, Nami and Chopper disappeared into the city. You heard them leave, as you run out on deck they were already out of your sight, frustrated you walked back into your shared room.

"So what are you going to do now? Have you missed your chance to ask her out again?" you didn't like the how Robin pronounced 'again', it's not like you don't know that you blew another chance.

"Why don't you help me choose an outfit so I can go after her and ask her? I can't decide whether I should wear a dress or a suit." you hold up your preferred outfits.

"Nami wore a short red dress." Robin didn't have to say anything else because you immediately knew which dress she meant and which outfit would be the best choice.

"Thanks Robin, you definitely got your eyes everywhere." you look at the eyes above the door, before you leave to the bathroom to get yourself ready as well.

"(y/n)-chan in a suit looks absolutely perfect!" the lovesick cook expresses his feelings before he and Zoro go back to bickering once more.

"He's not wrong." compliments Robin, who knew that you'd pick a black suit, with an oversized blazer and a red lace lingerie top. Nami was always a blushing mess when you wore those tops and it fits the suit perfectly. Let's also not forget the rings on your fingers.

*Nami, Ussop and Chopper*

"Why did you not let (y/n) style you'd hair Nami?" Ussop asks, nudging her with his elbow.

"The way she touches my hair, the hair ruffling, how close she was to check the details... I just wanted to melt right there. I know that I couldn't keep it together if we were to be alone right now. I just wanna feel her touch." Nami sighs, face buried in her hands.

Ussop, Chopper and Robin are the ones she told about her feelings towards you.

"We're rooting for you!!" the boys start chanting Namis name causing the navigator to laugh and act as if she didn't knew them, by now everyone is staring at them.

Once you've reached the town you're blown away, the whole city is part of an amusement park, roller-coasters move in between houses, a ferris-wheel that moves you from the city to the shore and cotton candy growing on trees.

"Well that's something." you mumble, eyes searching for a certain navigator.

"Searching for someone special~" Robin chuckles while you just roll your eyes in return.

"She's with Chopper and Ussop so they're probably at some candy booth, I'll just keep an eye out for those." you head off, searching everywhere.

"Wow." Nami stops, eyes widening as she sees a big teddy on a shelf. It reminds her of the one Bellmere once sewed for her, same color with a rainbow heard on the tummy. Ussop and Chopper went further without noticing how Nami was falling in love with the bear.

"You want that teddy don't you?" you ask, glad you finally found her

"Oh no, I'm too old for that." she laughs, slightly startled by your sudden appearance. "But since you're here let's just go onto that roller-coaster!" she grabs your elbow, trying to pull you away.

"I just need one throw, you know that right?"

"For 78 cans?" Nami asks in disbelieve.

"Watch me." placing the money on the table you ask for a single ball, the guy handing it over already laughing.

"Young lady, don't overdo yourself, nobod-" the now speechless men watches the cans fall down... as well as the top shelf.

"Yeah I take this, thanks." you grab the teddy, Namis hand and run off as the men shouts at you for destroying his booth that has a huge hole at the back now as well. After all, you're a straw hat, so what else could he expect?

"(y/n)!" Nami tries to scold you but it comes out with a laugh.

"What? You wanted the Teddy." you laugh back, stopping to flee from a guy who's not even following you.

"I did... Thank you." she hides her face within the Teddy's fur, hugging it closely. Said plushy is the size as her upper body and has the perfect size to hug it.

/I love seeing her happy with the Teddy but I'd love to swap places/ you think to yourself, hoping this night could go on forever.

"What shall we do next?"

"There should be a ferris wheel that takes you to the beach, I'd like to go there." she says, chin resting on top of her new fluffy friend.

"Let's go then." you

"So the carts are open? That should give us a nice view." you comment as you two enter your cart. It is a classic ferris wheel, besides the fact that it's not spinning on one place but rolling over the island towards the beach, in a slow Tempo.

"It's moving!" Nami yelps, startled by the sudden movement, holding onto your arm. You're slowly on the way to the top as the last few people enter before the ride begins.

Once it does you two get an amazing view over the city, the lights dance and there are happy faces everywhere. Nami doesn't notice that she's still holding onto your arm so you slowly intertwine your fingers, feeling how cold they are.

"You're shivering." you state as you remove your blazer, wrapping it around her shoulders. "You didn't have to freeze Nami."

She stays silent but whispers a quite thank you before hugging the blazer and Teddy close to keep her warm. As you keep watching the city she rests her head on your shoulder while your hands find their way back to the other.

"Isn't this a cliché?" Nami breaks the silence after some time, pointing at your blazer over her shoulders.

"I can take i-"

"No!" she hugs the blazer even closer to her body as she sits straight up again. "Forget what I just said."

"I could do that, but you'd have to erase that from my memory." you suggest, daring to go for it.

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

"Why don't you replace it with another instead." one glance at her lips was enough to let Namis heart race and eyes to widen.

"Are you sure?" she asks in disbelieve, fumbling with her fingers.

"I've never been so sure of something in my life." you cup her cheek with one hand as the other wraps around her back. Brushing your thumb over her lips you let your eyes drown in hers. Her brown eyes have never looked more comforting than right now. "May I?"

"Please do." she pleads, answering your kiss by instant. Her lips are as soft as the cotton candy you can taste on her, she wraps her free arm around your neck, not wanting this to end either. Once you parten your lips from another you've both got a love sick expression in your eyes.

"This is more addictive than I thought it would." Nami breaths, forehead resting against yours.

"Then let's be each other's drug." you tug her chin upwards, about to kiss her again. "Want another dose?"

She answered by sealing your lips with hers.

Spending the rest of the ride with kisses and a tiny make out session you've reached the beach way to fast for your liking.

"How did you know??" Namis face bursts into red shades.

"I'm the only one you never ask for money. That spoke for itself."

"I'll charge you for this kiss then." she states with confidence, the red color on her cheeks say otherwise.

"Which one?" you smirk, enjoying her flustered state.

"Y/n!!!" she hit you with the Teddy before holding him close again.

"You're so adorable when you blush, we both know that you'd pay me to kiss you." guiding her lips back towards you with one finger under her chin you keep your eyes locked.

"When I'm with you I don't care about money, so you can have it all if that means I can kiss you again."

Closing the gap between you once more you can hear the fireworks going off at the sky.

"Nami, I love you." you hug her from behind, watching the last fireworks explode, feeling full of life.

"I love you too, y/n."

*Small extra*

"Nami are your legs alright?!" the reindeer worries about her as you two enter the kitchen the next morning.

"I'm fine, just really, really exhausted." she smiles, sinking into her seat.

Robin and you exchange knowing glances, you can't thank her enough for staying at the library the entire night... without having any eyes in the room as well.

[calummss]

Lilac And Lilacs | John Shelby

masterlist

summary: thomas wants john to marry esme lee to finally put an end to the shelby-lee family war. john’s heart however belongs to francesca wellington, the barmaid at the garrison who finds john’s romantic talk charming but is oblivious to his intentions with her

pairing: fem! oc x john shelby

words: 2.2k

a/n: john is more romantic in this fic than canon, still i find it to be somewhat believable. my choice of words for john are more proper but nonetheless believable in my eyes if john really tried to impress a girl. even if you aren’t a fan of oc fanfics i promise y’all will love this

The door to the Garrison flew open with a loud bang, eyes of the customers already enjoying their pints fixated on John Shelby as his heavy footsteps weighted the old wooden floor of the pub. His gaze met the emerald eyes of Francesca Wellington, who gave him a defeated look; a reminder to leave the building unharmed at his expense.

‘Sorry, darling, old habits.’ His soft tone rang bells inside her head. A light blooming in the pit of her stomach as John sat down at the counter and grinned, his pearly white teeth nothing but inviting.

‘Old habits still have an urge for whiskey?’ Francesca returned the smile, her eyes reflecting the sunlight only he seemed to take notice of.

‘They do.’ John lifted his cap off his head and set it aside, the rough and violent part of him too.

Harsh walls let down that were only ever meant for her. Francesca was the only one that John ever allowed himself to be more relaxed with. More calm and less tough. A yin-yang relationship that turned heads even inside of the room, though it was no secret that the two of them were close.

‘Coming right up, Mr. Shelby.’ Her cheery voice echoed deep into his mind, the colour yellow coming to mind. Just like the sun.

‘I told you to call me John on more than one occasion, Frankie.’

‘I know,’ Francesca briefly turned around to grab a bottle of whiskey that was standing on display. ‘But it feels so informal, you know…you being a Peaky Blinder especially a founder.’ The gradual high tone that made her statement sound more like a question made him chuckle.

‘We are friends, are we not?’ John’s fingertips grazed the rim of the glass.

‘Depends how you define friends, John.’ She raised an amused eyebrow, annunciating his name with a grin, her hair the colour of wheat and sunshine more beautiful than John had remembered.

‘I believe that friends always listen to what the other has to say.’

‘I’m a barmaid, that is quite literally my job.’ Francesca placed an ashtray next to the glass. ‘To listen to old men wail about their wives and children, how they regret the life they chose and how everything is so awful, but that I am the highlight of their day…though I believe they’re talking about the bottle of whiskey more than me.’ Her giggle warmed his heart on the cold November morning.

‘Why wouldn’t you be the highlight of their day?’ John leaned forward, his breath so close she could feel it on her neck as he removed a piece of dust that was sitting on top of her hair.

Collecting herself, Francesca let out a small cough. ‘I’m a barmaid walking around in filth. Dirt all over myself, messy hair,’

‘You’re still gorgeous to me…’ The seriousness in John’s tone and face let a light blush warm the cheeks of Francesca, her fingers rubbing against each other under the counter that was the only thing separating their bodies.

Francesca’s mind wandered to Thomas Shelby. John’s older brother and the head of the Peaky Blinders. If he set something in motion then it would happen. No one dared crossing him. Why John ignored his brother’s orders was beyond what she could imagine.

‘John,’ she coughed, shaking her head at the same time. ‘You can’t say that,’ her eyes scanned to see if anyone was listening in. ‘I can’t be found being courted by one of Small Heath’s most eligible bachelors. It’s not proper for me or you.’

‘I never intend to marry Esme.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I don’t love her.’

‘Marriage is about convenience, John.’ Francesca said, her mind forced back to reality when she found herself thinking of the life she could lead with him if the circumstances were aligned with their fate.

‘Not in my eyes.’ He downed the rest of the amber gold liquid that burned his throat. ‘I want to marry for love. For a partner that matches my half…not too perfectly though because that would feel too artificial.’

‘Such a romantic at heart.’ She poked at him, his love hidden behind his eyes as clear as the summer sky the day he first saw her.

‘You have no idea, Frankie.’

For a short moment it was quiet. Cars driving past the Garrison, the sound of clanking metal, and worried mothers running after their children. John’s eyes were on Francesca the entire time she had turned her back to him, trying to gather a moment of clarity, hidden by the cleaning of various glasses that had piled up beside the sink.

‘I want to be with you, Frankie.’ His soft tone had once more invaded all her senses.

‘John, I— I don’t think you would want to be with me.’ She turned around.

‘You’re everything that I want.’

‘And what do I have?’ Her hands slammed onto the counter. Her face was pained with all of the confessions he had made the past minutes, yet she struggled to be angry at him.

John leaned forward, his pink lips pulled into a smirk as his breath met her rosy cheeks. ‘My name written all over you.’

Francesca pulled away hastily, head turning in every direction to make sure no one had heard the thing he had said. ‘John!’ She half yelled before lowering her voice, ‘You’re making me blush.’

‘I like seeing you red because of me. Makes my ego a little bit bigger than it already is.’ And he was met with a firm slap on his upper arm.

‘I don’t think I’m built for the life you lead…All the violence? Not only would I constantly be worried about my safety but also yours.’

‘So you worry about me, huh?’

‘John.’

‘I would protect you from all violence.’ He reached out to firmly hold her soft hand that felt like it already belonged to him. ‘My hands carry the weight of blood and punches so that you can wear the finest jewellery in the world.’

Francesca’s head tilted to the side, her fingers brushing against his wrist.

‘I mean it.’

She retrieved her hand, ‘You’re flirting with me in a bar full of men that have nothing better to do than to listen and eye us up and down.’

‘I’m a Shelby. I can do whatever I want, and this lady,’ he turns around, all men staring at him. ‘Feels uncomfortable with all of you listening in so unless you want to keep your ears, you keep to your business and your business only. Have I made myself clear?’

Men muttered, turning around instantly and didn’t dare to turn their heads once more. John too turned back around again, his smile painted back on.

‘John has gone all soft.’ A voice said from the back, the smile quickly dropping off of John’s face as he turned around, grabbed his cap and stormed to the direction of the voice where he grabbed a fistful of the man’s collar bringing him to his knees.

John’s free hand took the cap, the blades close to the man’s face who was now panicking.

‘I have not gone soft.’ John breathed through his teeth. ‘I merely treat a woman how she should be. Now remember what I said about the ears of the men inside this building? Same goes for your lips and tongue. I hate to repeat myself, so leave this establishment before I ruin this new suit I just got. Hate to ruin such fine work with a man’s blood not worth it.’

The man stumbled, his friends following him outside of the door. The rest of the room stuck to their business as John had instructed them moments ago.

Francesca met John’s face with widened eyes.

‘Frankie, I would never let a scratch on your body. If I did it would be the day I’d stop existing.’ He cupped her cheeks with one hand, his thumb stroking her cheek.

‘How are you ever going to make sure that I don’t get hurt? That’s practically impossible. What if I fall into a river?’ She smiled, still stern.

‘Then I will bleed every river dry that flows on this earth to stop you from ever falling into one.’

John’s grip on Francesca’s cheek grew tighter as he slowly yet steadily pulled her closer, close enough to let him kiss her as he had imagined over a hundred times. Her lips melted into his. Engulfed by his desire to deepen the kiss and push himself against her then was physically possible but it was enough that for this moment he could feel her beyond her hand and cheek. Her lips as addictive as cocaine.

John dreaded pulling away from her but held her close. ‘I’m addicted to you.’

‘What,’ she breathed deeply, her mind still processing what had just happened.

‘Every time I’m away from you, my heart only wants to feel you. My eyes want to see you. My ears want to hear your voice that’s sweet like honey. My nose wants your smell, my skin your touch. My lips melting into yours until we both forget our names.’ He paused for a brief moment, his eyes holding hers. ‘I’m addicted to you, Francesca Wellington. My heart, body, and soul belong to you. Yours to love, yours to hate, simply and utterly yours. You don’t have to be mine but I will always be yours.’

Words.

Simply just words, but they had made Francesca forget everything and anything that wasn’t John. She forgot that he was to marry Esme despite what he wanted. She forgot that she wasn’t enough, that she couldn’t give him what he needed despite his every belief.

‘John,’ her breaths drew heavier, ‘I— I told you that this cannot happen.’ She pulled away, stumbling back and steadying herself against the back counter. ‘You are marrying Esme! You are setting me up to be the girl discarded by Shelby when I already work as a maid and had a daughter out of wedlock! I’m a whore and it wouldn’t do a Shelby good to be seen with a whore. With me.’

‘You have bewitched me.’ John’s hand shot towards Francesca’s wrist, her breath caught in her throat as her lips trembled, looking at the man she felt for but could not be able to feel anymore. ‘On days I do not see you, even the warmth of the sun does not make the coldness of your absence any more bearable. The flowers hang as the dry soil does not give them what they need to survive. My heart feels an ever pit of loneliness when you are not around me. You are the sun my heart, mind, soul orbit around. They can only be complete if you are my center. Without you nothing makes sense.’

Francesca’s tears had stained her lilac dress, the colour now a deeper purple. A growing pain in her chest that made it hard to breathe. Her hands felt weighted and felt the urge to drop down to the wooden floor but she fought back, her eyes not ready to part from John’s face that has never looked the way it did at this present moment.

‘If I marry Esme, every waking moment until I close my eyes I will long for you. For your touch, your smell, your laugh, my heart clenches at the thought of a future without you. Every day I pass the lilacs that are planted in front of the flower shop and every day I fight the urge to not buy you every lilac I see because the colour reminds me of the ribbon in your hair. I don’t care what Tommy has planned for me because if you are not in his plans, there is no reason for me to continue breathing as I do now.’

‘John, I—‘

‘If you do not say that you feel the same way about me, it is better to not say anything at all. The pain would still be great but I couldn’t stomach it if you would speak the words that would break my heart.’

The urge to kiss him felt tiresome as Francesca fought every nerve in her body, blood pulsing through her veins, trying not to give in. But what happens if you leave a cheese trap for a mouse? They take it, no matter how often they do it. They take the risk.

Francesca pulled John in for a kiss. Her hands on either side of his head as John leaned over even further to taste the sweetness of the woman he had longed for.

‘Yes.’ Francesca breathed out heavily, her chest rising and falling.

‘Yes what?’

‘I’ll be with you.’

‘You will?’ John’s eyes lit up brighter than the light that shone above them.

Francesca nodded, her lips curling into a warming smile.

John pulled her in for another kiss, this time savouring her taste that he would taste and cherish for the rest of his life.

[cyborg-franky]

hiii Franky my darling! i’m always vibrating in my seat whenever you post a new prompt list every month! can i ask for Rayleigh or Roger with either Fluff 9 or Angst 12, please? thank you if you do <3

have fun with all the prompts, sending warm hugs your way x

<3 returning the hugs.

I hope you like, made me cry a little ah.

Roger x Reader x Rayleigh TW: Poly/Death Word Count: 365

The day he handed himself in to the marines you cried but respected his choice, you knew Roger didn’t have much time left and a man as wonderful and as grand as him, who’d lived the best life he could have ever dreamed of, didn’t deserve to just fade away, to die of what was pulling away his life force.

He lived a joyous life with you and Rayleigh as his partners, a crew that worshiped and adored him, even his rivals had nothing but respect in their hearts for him.  He’d given you one last embrace, cuddled in bed together, talking of dreams that could never be fulfilled, remembering all the shared times that would follow him to the afterlife, that would keep you and Rayleigh’s hearts full for your lifetimes.

He smiled, he laughed, and he didn’t act like his life was ending. He sat on the edge of the bed as you leaned against him.

“Are you sure?” you had to at least ask.

“Love, this isn’t the end, this isn’t me closing the book on the story of the great Pirate King I am simply setting up for the next volume, I trust you and Rayleigh to be there to watch as each page is written, as many new legends pop up and take the world by storm.” He rested his hand on your knee, fondness sparkled in his eyes.

You sighed and nodded, closing your eyes, and just clinging to the remaining time. You were grasping at the sands of time, trapped inside the hourglass, banging the sides, and crying as each grain flittered past your eyes.

Standing there as the rain beat down from the sky, even the heavens cried as Roger was taken to the executioner’s block.

"This is a story of a dead man who is running out of time." Echoed in your mind as tears fell from your eyes, running down your cheeks, mingling with the rain that poured, you felt Rayleigh grip your hand tightly as Roger’s last words were shouted with pride.

The beating in your heart as you realised what he had done, his legacy would outlive any man. Roger had become immortal.

[pilothusband]

All Hail The King

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Alcohol, oral sex, p in v sex, praise kink. I’m a horny bitch, okay? This is purely indulgent.

Word count: 5k

Author’s note: Special thanks to @wyn-dixie​ for reading this over before I posted it and for enabling this filth. ❤️ This idea entered my brain randomly and I had to write it out. Please let me know what you think! I want your feedback. If I had Photoshop I would have made an edit of Frankie with a crown for this but I don’t have it so here’s this gif instead.

The bar is humming with activity, but the table you’re nestled at in the back provides enough shelter to allow you all to converse without having to yell at each other.

You’ve been nursing a glass of water for a while now, since you’re the designated driver this week. It doesn’t bother you, though— you’re just happy to be out with your friends.

Every once in a while you steal a glance over at Frankie, who’s sitting diagonally across the table, next to Santiago who is directly across from you. Benny is to your left, his large body crowding you into the wall, and his brother Will is at the head of the table.

“Hey Fish,” Benny claps a hand on his shoulder. The force of his hand jostles Frankie’s solid body backwards a little, but to his credit he doesn’t flinch. “How are things with that girl you were seeing? Jennessa? Jennifer?”

You take a sip of your water and look down at the table to mask your interest at the sudden change in conversation.

“Jessica,” Frankie clears his throat. “They aren’t. We didn’t have much in common so she broke it off after a few dates.”

Queue the internal cheering. Jessica was a bit of a wet mop, to be honest. She never had anything to say when Frankie brought her around and she would scoff at everything that was slightly unsavory in her eyes. Deep down, you had to come to terms with the jealous twinge you felt in your gut every time she would squeeze Frankie’s shoulder affectionately, her immaculately manicured nails pressed harshly into his jacket.

“I’m sorry, Fish,” Benny said, slinging his arm around the man, the clumsy movement knocking his hat slightly askew. “Her loss, brother.”

“Here here,” Santi agrees, raising his bottle in the air. “To the king!”

Benny cheers clinks his bottle against Santiago’s echoing his sentiment. Will huffs out a laugh and Frankie groans, hiding his face in his hands.

You gape at the two men in question, but they just giggle like a couple of school girls.

“I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty,” you say, trying to figure out what they’re talking about. You look over at Frankie as he takes an impatient sip from his drink.

Benny just about spits out a mouthful of beer onto the table.

“Shut the fuck up, guys.” Frankie warns his friends. “Seriously.” Santi and Benny give him an innocent look. Will focuses his gaze on the bottle he’s holding, picking at the paper label, damp and curling at the edges from condensation .

Santiago leans towards you, his breath hot in your ear.

“We call him the pussy eating king.”

You thank the powers above you weren’t mid-sip, because the choked sound that emits from your throat was both involuntary and sudden. Heat blossoms in your stomach and your thighs clench together as you make eye contact with Frankie. He looks away nervously, embarrassed even. 

“So was this a self coronation or..” You trail off, grinning at the flush on Frankie’s cheeks.

“It was that really talkative chick he was seeing for a while,” Benny says, turning to you. “Brianna?”

“Brenda,” Frankie sighs.

“So Brenda crowned you the pussy eating king?” You ask Frankie, who still refuses to meet your eyes.

He grumbles in response, waving off the subject.

“Yeah, she went on about it in detail for the whole night one time. I think you were away for a work trip or something” Santiago is absolutely smirking, loving the way Frankie is physically shrinking under the group’s attention. “Come on Fish, don’t be so modest. You’re a beast in the sack, it’s a good thing!”

You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You remember why you weren’t there. It was because you couldn’t stand seeing Frankie so happy with another woman, so you feigned sick.

“Well, I can see why things with Brenda didn’t last,” you respond, knowing Frankie was kind of a private guy. “But hey, at least she can tell all her friends she got the royal treatment while it lasted.”

Benny, Santiago and even Will all roar with laughter, fists banging raucously on the table. Frankie huffs out an embarrassed laugh, despite himself.

“Yeah, yeah,” he takes a swig of his beer, emptying it. “I need another drink.”

“Hey Ben, what time is your fight next week again?” Will calls over to his brother. You’re grateful for the change of subject. Frankie’s had enough torture for one night and you aren’t sure how many more details about Frankie’s sexual prowess your nether regions can take.

Benny turns towards Will to talk about his upcoming match and you take a sip from your glass to try to hide how flustered you’re feeling. Did this bar get hot all of a sudden?

The glass lands back down with a dull thump and you look up to find Santiago studying you, his eyebrow raised.

“What?” You don’t mean to sound aggressive, but his gaze is unnerving, as if he’s trying to suss out something you’re hiding.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He smirks and tips up his beer, taking a long gulp. You roll your eyes at him and look down to pick at your nails.

A few moments later, Frankie returns with a fresh beer and you can feel Santiago turning his face in your direction again to read your body language. You school your reaction, fingers digging painfully into your pint glass. Sometimes Pope is too fucking nosy for his own good.

He must lose interest after a moment though, because he turns his attention back to Benny, who’s still talking about his upcoming fight.

The topic doesn’t come up again, thankfully, and you’ve dropped all the boys off at their separate destinations, save for Frankie, who lives the closest to you.

The car ride alone with him isn’t as tense as you were expecting, since his tongue has been loosened with the fair amount of alcohol he’s had tonight. You both chat easily about the upcoming week and how much you’re dreading going back to work on Monday.

You can’t resist one smart remark though, as you pull up to Frankie’s house.

“Your castle awaits, my liege,” you quip, trying and failing to hide your amused smile as you look over at him.

Frankie throws his head back and laughs freely, opening the car door with a wink.

“Goodnight, my queen,” he bows exaggeratedly before shutting the car door.

The butterflies don’t tamp down until you’re securely inside your own apartment, locking the door behind you.

That night was a month ago, which means it’s been a whole fucking month since your brain flew the coop. Every time Frankie does just about anything with his mouth, everything else around you ceases to exist.

Take last Thursday, for example. Frankie dropped by after work to help you change your porch light, since the fixture is too heavy and the light is too high up to easily reach.

He steps up the ladder with ease, unscrewing the fixture and holding it with his left hand. He puts the screwdriver in his mouth so he can hold onto the ladder as he gingerly hands you the fixture. You grab onto it and hand him the replacement bulb so he can swap them out.

He gets the lightbulb in and gestures towards you to hand the fixture back, which he screws back in before stepping down.

“Blegh,” he wipes his mouth on his sleeve, an action that has your last two brain cells screeching to a halt. “Screwdrivers taste awful.” 

His statement is cute, self-deprecating, and you try to respond appropriately but all you can do is gape at him like a fish out of water.

‘Get your shit together, he’s wiping off the taste of rust, not your pussy,’ you try to mentally shake yourself out of your stupor, but it does no good.

He turns back towards his toolbox to drop the screwdriver in and close the lid.

“All set,” he says, dusting off his jeans. He sounds a little uneasy, probably because you’re acting like a complete weirdo.

“Thank you so much, Frankie. I really appreciate it.” You find your manners and pull him in for a hug, secretly reveling in how good he smells.

“Any time,” he tells you as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes softly.

Before he pulls away you make a spur of the moment decision, and reach up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. He’s so impossibly warm and so inviting, you can feel your heart flutter in your chest. The sparse hairs on his face tickle your chin. 

Frankie clears his throat and ducks his head down, mumbling a hurried goodbye before he heads back to his truck, toolbox in hand. You don’t miss the way his lips are turned up and the crows feet make an appearance in the corner of his eyes, nor do you miss the brilliant flush that spreads over his face and down his neck.

It’s Saturday now and your torment knows no end. You decide you’re too tired to go out and opt to invite the guys over for a movie night, to which they all agree. 

You decide you’ll just have to look away every time Frankie takes a sip of a drink, or eats a handful of popcorn. Or God forbid, if he licks his lips.

The group chat has been a nightmare, with everyone trying to come up with a movie to watch. Benny wants to watch The Expendables, Will mentioned something about wanting to see Dunkirk for ages now and Santi is playing devil’s advocate, disagreeing with all of their choices but not coming up with one of his own.

Frankie has been quiet in the chat, besides initially agreeing to come over initially.

It’s 9:00 PM, you have a 30 rack of beers in the fridge and some popcorn set out for everyone. All you have to do now is wait for the guys to arrive. Your phone chimes with a notification from Benny.

Benny and the Jets 🥊: Sorry lady, I got called in for a last minute practice. Raincheck?

Ironhead 🦸🏼: I gotta duck out too. The lady wants to have a date night. Sorry!

You type out a reply to them, a little disappointed but bidding them a good night all the same.

A knock sounds on the door and you rush over to answer it. The door swings open to reveal Frankie, wearing the softest looking navy blue hoodie you’ve ever seen, along with his Standard Oil cap. He looks as unsure as ever, holding a bottle of red wine.

You chirp an over-enthusiastic greeting, internally cringe at it, and step aside to welcome him in.

“I know you like red wine, so I got some for you on the way here. I hope it’s the kind you like.”

You accept the wine and look at the label. It’s a California Zinfandel. You can’t believe he remembered your favorite wine.

“I love it, thank you so much.” You pull him into a hug, nuzzling into the soft material of his sweatshirt. He returns the hug just as enthusiastically, pulling away to kiss your forehead.

“Is Santiago on his way?” You ask, padding into the kitchen to grab a glass from your cabinet. “Do you want a glass? Or I have some beer if you’d prefer.”

“Beer is perfect, thanks,” he says a little breathily as he looks over at you. “Santiago said something came up and that he’s sorry.”

Something feels a little fishy with the three of them ducking out all at the same time, but you don’t mention it as you hand him a beer and search through your drawer for a bottle opener. A few minutes later, you’re both set up on the couch and are scrolling through Netflix for a movie.

“I have no idea what to watch. Do you?”

“Want to watch Civil War? I know the guys will bitch we’re continuing the rewatch without them but they can deal.”

You tip your head back and laugh, navigating over to your Disney+ app.

Frankie takes off his hat and sets it aside while you spread a blanket over your laps, braving a chance to scoot closer to him. He takes the hint and wraps his arm behind your shoulders, nestling you closer to his chest. You settle in and try to pay attention to the movie, despite the wild fluttering that is taking place in your stomach.

Frankie shifts uncomfortably and winces a little. You can tell he’s trying to hide it, but little does he know you’ve been watching every single movement he makes like a hawk. Or a nervous lap dog.

“Does your back hurt? I can move,” you start to get up but Frankie grabs onto your wrist and pulls you back in.

“No, stay. I just need to find a comfortable position.”

You make a soft noise of surprise when he lifts you up and pulls you towards him, settling back so he’s spread out on the couch. You’re settled on top of him, your legs stretched out over his with your back to the cushion, half draped over his torso.

This position has your heart thumping hard in your chest. His face was just a few inches from yours. All he’d have to do is tilt his face towards yours, and you’d be practically kissing.

Focusing on the movie is harder than ever. Your left hand rests on Frankie’s chest and your right is near his head. Without even thinking, you reach out and start stroking your fingers through his soft curls. He hums contentedly, the pleasant sound rumbling through his chest.

A hand makes its way up your arm leaving goosebumps in its wake, landing on your shoulder.

You brave a glance at Frankie and feel your heart stutter in your chest when you realize he’s been looking at you. His eyes are as dark as ever, twinkling against the flicker of your TV.

He closes the gap and captures your lips in a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft, melding to yours perfectly. The brush of your mouths together is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to lick at him and he complies, letting out a guttural moan at the sensation as your tongues meet languidly.

You shift your leg so it slots between his and both of your hands find his shoulders and squeeze them, eliciting a soft mewl from Frankie’s mouth. His hands are hot on your back and he slides one down to your ass, kneading the soft flesh over your leggings.

Your hips press into his, rutting into him, soft pants falling from your mouth– mingling with his. You need to be closer, closer, closer. He tightens his grip on your ass in response and rolls his hips so you can feel how hard he is against your belly.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, breaking the kiss, words tumbling out between his ragged breaths. 

You can feel yourself throbbing for him, wetness rushing to your core as his hushed baritone makes your head spin with need. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re convinced this is a dream. That there’s no way you’re dry humping the man of your dreams on your couch right now.

You duck down to hide your expression, not wanting to ruin the moment with your anxiety and doubt. You’ll take whatever this man gives you, even if it’s just this moment. 

You busy yourself by peppering small kisses on his neck, trailing them up to his jaw.

“Hey,” he slows your movements and holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up gently up to look at him.

“I want you. I want this. Do you?” 

You feel the urge to look away, his gaze is intense and laser-focused on you. Eye contact has never been your strong suit, so this was a lot for you to handle. But you fight the urge to flinch and stare back, searching to see if there was anything that will give away any trepidations. His expression remains hard set, serious but not unkind. It’s just like Frankie to have eyes as clear as day, giving away all of his secrets. They’re just like him— strong, unrelenting in their hardness and softness.

“Yes,” you reply. Your voice cracks a little, thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.” 

You feel embarrassment wash over you with the admission, but Frankie doesn’t let it last long before you crushes his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He breaks it off after a moment, lips swollen and pink.

“Baby, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

He strokes a hand down your jaw, his thumb caressing your skin as a goofy smile blooms over your face.

“I want to make you feel good, baby,” he whispers, his thumb catching on the swell of your bottom lip. “Will you let me make you feel good?”

You blink and swallow heavily, a fresh wave of arousal flooding to your center as the deep rasp of his voice utters those words, smooth as caramel– dousing over you like kerosene on a fire.

You nod, not trusting your voice at this very moment.

“I need you to say it out loud, honey,” he says, his lips brushing against yours ever so lightly.

“Yes, Francisco,” you breathe out. “Make me feel good.”

He bites your bottom lip and tugs, then growls playfully before he grabs your shoulders and flips you over. You let out a delighted shriek, giggling as he lifts up the hem of your shirt and kisses every inch of skin that’s revealed.

“Wait,” you call out. He stops his movements immediately. “You first.”

Frankie grins. You want to press your fingers into the dimple that appears and feel the scratch of his beard under your nails. He leans back and lifts his sweatshirt over his head, the grey t-shirt he’s wearing sticks to the inside of it and he rolls both garments down his arms. 

His chest is bare to you now, smooth except for a smattering of hairs in the middle of his chest, and a patch leading down into his jeans. You want to reach out and run your hands down the planes of his torso and follow the path of hair,  but your arms aren’t long enough to reach. 

You remove your shirt, leaving you in your leggings and bra. It’s a soft lace number, a delicate pink with no underwire. You watch as his hungry gaze roams over your chest. To your surprise, he doesn’t motion for you to take it off. Instead, he leans over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

 He moves downwards, tongue darting out to taste the salt of your neck. He continues his path and mouths between your breasts, one of his hands reaches out to squeeze the plump flesh in his large hand. You nipple instantly pebbles under his ministrations and he pulls the fabric aside to tease it with the pad of his finger. You moan softly at the sensation and yelp in surprise when he sucks it into his mouth and bites it, soothing the sharp sting with a flick of his tongue.

 “Mmm, love how responsive you are already,” he hums, moving down. Your back arches as his mouth makes a hot trail down the rest of your torso. You look down and notice he’s left wet patches where his mouth has been, coating you in saliva and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

 He reaches the waistband of your leggings and pushes them down, letting out a strangled groan when he gets an eyeful of your panties, the same shade of pink that matches the bra you’re wearing. 

“So fucking sexy,” he breathes.

He peels your panties down your legs and pulls them off along with your leggings, leaving you completely bare from the bottom down. You start to cross your legs to hide yourself, feeling self-conscious at how exposed you are, but Frankie grabs your thigh to halt the movement.

“You better not hide this pretty pussy from me,” he says, licking his lips.

You half expect him to dive in, but he takes a moment to look at you. He’s resting a hand on your hip. His pointer finger makes a path down, tracing an invisible line up and down your slit. You hiss at the ghost of his touch and thrust your hips towards his hand, seeking out more friction.

Frankie lets out an amused chuckle at your reaction and leans forward to plant a wet kiss to your inner thigh. You let out a shaky breath in anticipation– your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. He kisses up your thigh until he reaches the apex between your legs, then licks a stripe through your folds with the flat of his tongue, pulling a surprised gasp from your parted lips.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and you can’t help it– you buck up into his mouth and grab onto his hair and tug at the strands. He grabs onto the flesh of your hip and whimpers into your pussy. Despite being almost dizzy with need, you feel a rush of power knowing you have this effect on him.

“You taste so fucking good. So wet for me,” he punctuates his words with bold licks up and down. “Never want to stop.”

He changes patterns, making tight circles on your clit with his tongue. The sudden switch has you mewling and your legs clamp around his head involuntarily. Frankie grabs your thighs and wrenches them apart, hooking them over his shoulders as he latches onto your pussy. His hands are on your ass, holding you up as your back arches off the couch.

All you can do is scramble at the cushions below you for purchase as Frankie buries his face into your cunt, lapping at you with abandon. His tongue licks into you with an intensity you’ve never experienced before; it has you seeing stars.

You have no idea how he knows exactly how to manipulate your body to pull the pleasure from you so naturally. Every lick feels like it’s searching for treasure, every suck hits somewhere deep inside, reverberating through the muscles of your thighs and up in your abdomen.

He gently places you back down to the cushions and rubs at your entrance with his pointer finger, looking up at you for permission.

“Yes, please–“ you whimper brokenly. He complies immediately and plunges it into you, following with a second finger, and curls them up. His pace is slow at first and he flicks his tongue out to play with your clit at the same time. He’s soon spurred on by your moans and sets a brutal pace. You once again feel the urge to clamp around him to increase the pressure, but Frankie uses his broad shoulders to hold your thighs apart.

 Seeing his shoulders, bare and perspiring from his intensive movements, so wide and flushed, coupled with the furrow of his brow, his eyes pinched closed, makes something primal within you awaken. You barely have time to feel your orgasm coming before it’s hitting you– thighs shaking, back arching, hands in his hair. You don’t even realize it, but you;’re shrieking his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s groaning in reply, milking you through it with his fingers and tongue, lapping up your release, syrupy sweet and indulgent.

 He doesn’t stop until you’re flinching from overstimulation. He kisses up your body lazily, taking his time before capturing your lips. You kiss him back, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on his tongue. He grinds into you, his jean-clad erection rubs against your aching cunt and rekindles the fire, molten heat shooting through your entire body.

 “Wanna fuck you so bad, baby,” he says, panting the words into your mouth.

 You moan and break the kiss.

 “Want to take this to my room?”

 He doesn’t reply, but instead swings his body off the couch and picks you up bridal-style. He stumbles a little with the first steps and you both laugh, kissing each other with each step he takes towards your bedroom.

He tosses you onto the bed softly and you let loose another delighted giggle when Frankie flops over you dramatically, caging you in his arms. Your tongues tangle together in an impossibly sensual kiss. He’s momentarily distracted, caught up in the feel of your body underneath his with the soft touches of your tongue, and you take the opportunity to roll him over and straddle his hips.

Frankie is looking up at you as if he’s in awe, like he can’t believe you’re here right now, naked from the waist down and grinding down on his hard cock, tenting his jeans.

You move down his body and zip his fly down, pushing down the denim along with his boxer briefs. His cock springs free, hard and hot and leaking at the tip. You can’t help but lick the bead of precum, and a broken whine rips from Frankie’s throat. His hands are clenched into the sheets, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping the mattress beneath him.

You’re bobbing your mouth up and down his length, tongue licking around his shaft and cheeks hollowing out. His moans are loud, constant. He’s babbling praise, telling you how fucking amazing your mouth feels, how badly he wants to fuck you. It’s a heady feeling, bringing a strong and quiet man to his knees like this. You love that he’s letting you know how much he’s breaking for you.

Your tongue finds its way down to his balls and you suck them into your mouth, moaning at the musky taste. His moans are high pitched now and his hand is squeezing your shoulder.

“Baby, you gotta stop,” he grabs onto your hair to pause your movements. “I need to feel you.”

You give him one last broad lick up his shaft and shift back up, and look down at Frankie to catalogue the number you’ve done on him. He’s absolutely wrecked– brown eyes blown wide, chest rising and falling rapidly with his uneven breaths.

 You remove your bra, stretching it over your head and throwing it to the side. Frankie follows the movement and lets out a needy, staccato moan at the sight of you, completely bare before him.

 You reach down and kiss him soundly on the mouth, lining his cock up with your entrance.

 “I’ve got you, baby boy,” you coo, sinking down on his length.

 “Fuck,” he grits out between his teeth.

 You give yourself a moment to get used to his size and rock into him. His hands fly up to your chest, squeezing lightly and rolling your nipples in between his fingers.

 “So fucking big,” you pant out. “So good for me.”

 It seems Frankie loves praise as much as you do, evidenced by the twitch of his cock inside you.

 Your pace is agonizingly slow. You’re trying to tease out the moment, stretch it out so it lasts forever. It doesn’t last long– you can’t stand it anymore. You bounce up and down on him, snapping your hips when they meet his.

 “So fucking perfect,” he pants out. “Wanna fuck you from behind.”

 You breathe out a moan and stop your movements. Frankie mistakes your pause for hesitation and reaches up to brush the hair out of your face.

 “We don’t have to,” he says, voice gentle, brow furrowed in concern. 

 “No, fuck. No, Frankie. I want to.”

 You gingerly get up and whimper at the loss when he’s no longer inside you. Frankie sits up, shoulders rocking forward and cock bobbing with his movement as he settles onto his knees. You watch him and bite your lip, getting on all fours and lifting your ass up in the air to present yourself to him.

 Frankie can’t help the groan that falls from his lips and sinks forward to lay an open-mouthed kiss on your pussy from behind before he lines himself up. He enters you without hesitation, hips slapping against your ass rhythmically, setting a decisively fast pace. 

 All you can hear is the filthy sounds of your wet pussy as he pounds into you, along with your strangled moans, and his heavy breathing, laced with whispers of praise you can’t discern. The waves of pleasure are too much, too strong. You can feel the familiar build up of an orgasm. Your head is in the clouds as it climbs and climbs– then crashes.

 His fingers on your clit is what does you in. Your whole body shakes and all you can do is whimper and moan around his cock while he fucks into you. The strong, practiced rock of his hips become sloppy as he chases his release, muttering words of adoration into the air as he pulls out and cums, spilling onto your back. He pulls every last drop out of his cock before collapsing over you, forehead resting on your spine as he catches his breath.

 “Fuck, baby,” he says, once he’s caught his breath. “Should have done this ages ago.”

 You both laugh and Frankie gets up to grab a wet face towel from the bathroom

A little while later, you’re both in bed, blissed out and wrapped up around each other. The movie, drinks and snacks are all forgotten. All that matters is here and now– your breaths mingling together as you kiss each other lazily, tongues probing slowly. 

In the other room, both of your phones ping on the coffee table with unheard notifications.

The first text is from Santiago.The other boys follow suit, not a minute apart.

Pope 🤦🏻‍♂️: 👑

Benny and the Jets 🥊: 👑

Ironhead 🦸🏼: 👑

Neither of you see the texts until the next morning.

 The following weekend, it’s Santiago’s turn to be the designated driver. He’s parked outside of Frankie’s house, waiting to pick both of your asses up. He starts to tap his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel after the first 15 minutes. 

“What the fuck are they doing in there?” He asks Will and Benny. They all know the answer, but don’t say anything.

Meanwhile, Frankie has you crowded against the front door, your sundress is hiked up and his face is buried in your pussy. Neither of you can hear the sound of Santi’s impatient honking over your moans.

And if you end up going to the bar sans panties because you can’t find them before Santiago is pounding his fist on the door, well that’s just a secret you and Frankie will have to keep.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo @recklessworry @wyn-dixie @manalg14 @codenamewife @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @manalg14 @comphersjost @a-skov @sheresh0y @greeneyedblondie44 @blackmarketmummy @brandyllyn @gracie7209 @bootyliciousbilbo @dobbyjen

[mandoalorian]

Touch Starved [Frankie Morales x Reader]

Summary: You and your best friend Frankie Morales have had silent feelings for each other since the day you met. No one could’ve ever guessed the strange circumstance which occurred one fateful night, and how the proceeding events would be the push you needed to take your friendship to the next level.

Word count: 6k (what the heck this is the longest piece i’ve ever written BY FAR)

Rating: 18+ only.

Warnings: SMUT, thigh riding, oral (m and f receiving), alcohol consumption/intoxication, food/drink mention, lot of pining over each other and just some general fluff

Author’s Note: This is my first ever Frankie fic anddddd my first ever smut lol. Please be kind I hope you enjoy. PS if you want a part two let me know! xx

MASTERLIST | Submit your requests HERE

•••

Your eyes were heavy and you shuffled into the cushion, adjusting your position on the couch until you felt more comfortable. You grazed your fingers against the pages of your book, but found yourself re-reading the same sentence over and over again in attempt to keep yourself awake. Even your two scented candles were close to burning out, and you figured it was time for bed.

Gently dropping the book on the floor, you closed your eyes and felt yourself drift off into a dreamy sleep when a loud bang on your door woke you up with a jolt. Your heart was pounding as you bolted upright, clutching the thin wooled blanket that was lazily draped around your body in fear. Within seconds, you heard another bang on the door. Rubbing your eyes, you flicked on your phone and checked the time. 11-48pm. Almost midnight. You groaned, standing up and padding to the front door of your apartment. Who could possibly want to see you at this hour? You wondered. Not even bothering to check through the peephole, you let out an elongated groan.

“Who is it?” You called out and rubbed your tired eyes. You ran your fingers through your hair in hope that you would look somewhat presentable for when you greeted your uninvited visitor.

Without hesitation you heard him. A voice you were so familiar with. “It’s Frankie, man! You gotta let me in!” you noted that his voice sounded urged and your stomach filled with concern. Was he alright? Why was he at your apartment at 11-48pm? A million thoughts raced through your mind in just the second it took you to open the door. The thought of Frankie being here made you nervous, but excited. In a fluster, you stumbled with the door lock before finally managing to get it open.

There he was. His dark brown waves were tucked into one of his infamous baseball caps and he was wearing a dark green flannel and a washed out pair of denim jeans. You tried to search for answers in his face, but he truly seemed fine, other than the slight panic in his voice. He slid past you, allowing himself into your apartment and began pacing around.

“Would you like a drink?” You asked, almost rhetorically. Frankie didn’t answer, nor did he need to. You were already clicking open the bottle of ice cold Bud and handing it over to him. He took a big sip out of the alcoholic beverage, and you took the liberty of admiring him as he done so. He wasn’t watching you anyway, but instead focusing on downing the drink. That's what he needed. A drink to wash away his worries. How could he ever explain this to you?

You loved the way his chocolate brown eyes shone under the candlelight and the way his skin looked almost soft and golden. You waited patiently for him to finish drinking, never wanting to hurry him.

Frankie appreciated the atmosphere of your apartment too. He always had. It made a change from his current living situation. Frankie wasn’t picky as such, but living with his four best guy friends definitely had its downfalls. Whether that be Ben constantly hogging the living room television to play his Call of Duty video games, or Santiago bringing home a different lady every other night, making such noise that nobody but Will could sleep, or even Tom with his untidy behaviour and complete disregard for everyone else who lived with him. It wasn't great but what other choice did Frankie have? Other than you. You didn’t feel like a choice to him, you felt like a necessity. He needed you. You were his safe place, and your chic apartment felt more like home than his shabby downtown place.

“I gotta ask you a favour.” Frankie prompted eventually, sliding down into the cream faux-leather sofa and placing his bottle of beer on the coffee table. You took a seat in the chair opposite him and folded your arms, waiting for him to continue. “Actually, I don’t know. Never mind. Uhm… it’s a funny story to be honest. But, maybe it’s fine. It’s not fine. It’s just, well-”

“Spit it out Frankie!” You giggled jokingly, reaching over and nudging him slightly. He was immediately put at ease by just the simplest brush of your fingers, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with you. He found himself staring into the burning flame of your cinnamon scented candle. He felt mildly ashamed about how this whole situation had even surfaced in the first place.

“Me and Santi… we had a bet. A dare kinda thing.” Frankie explained, shuffling around with discomfort. He was definitely embarrassed that he had driven himself all the way to your apartment in the dead of night just to tell you this— or rather, ask you this. “The guys were teasing, you know how they are. About how- well, you know, I’ve never really been with a girl since…” Frankie paused.

“Marià.” You sighed, and Frankie nodded slowly. “Your ex wife…”

“Yeah. And I know it’s crazy but after the divorce and everything… I just haven’t really uh, had the opportunity. I mean I’ve had the opportunity it’s just- never felt right. I suppose. And you know, it’s not that I don’t want to start dating again. Or seeing women. Sleeping with wo-” Frankie was about to start rambling about his sex life (or lack there of) and you were not prepared to let your mind journey there. Not that you had never thought about it before… no. He was your best friend. And it would be wrong. Besides, Frankie had a tendency to over share but you were always there to help him get back on track, whereas others, namely the guys, would tease and mock him for it.

“Why are you here, Frankie?” You cut him off with as much delicacy as you could muster up. Your voice was soft, and Frankie noticed how gentle you had always been with him.

“Santi said he bet I couldn’t ask a girl out if I tried,” Frankie explained with a short sigh and you frowned. You knew Santiago well and you knew that he and Frankie were like brothers, but Frankie had been through a lot lately and Santiago never really had the best choice of words. You wondered if he had hurt Frankie, and instantly felt defensive over your friend.

“And then what happened?”

“I told Santi I could get a girl, and then, this afternoon, he asked me how I had come on. I lied, told him I asked out a pretty girl. He asked me about her and well, the girl I described… I guess… in my head I was just picturing you.” Frankie said, and finally glanced up at you, his pretty eyes shimmering in the dim light. You felt your heart rate increase at his revelation. “You know? It’s funny. This made up girl looks just like you.” He chuckled lightly. Your silence was deafening and his stomach filled with anxiety. “I don’t know why!” he assured but that was a lie. He knew why. He was your first thought at the start of the day you were his last thought at the end of the day. Every moment he got, he was thinking about you— pining over you.

“Oh,” you whispered, unable to process any more words. You weren’t sure what to make of it. You brushed away your feelings, thinking that you only came to Frankie’s mind because you saw him so much. You were the only girl he really hung out with.

“Of course Santi didn’t believe me. I’m a terrible liar. You know that. But I really don’t want the guys to catch me out on this! It’s so embarrassing.” Frankie was exasperated. You took to your feet and walked over to him, falling back on the sofa and resting your hand on Frankie’s forearm. To Frankie, your touch was like electricity.

“You do not need to be ashamed of something like this Frankie,” you assured him. Frankie took off his cap and ran his fingers through his brown locks.

“I know I know,” he sighed before looking back at you. “Santi wants to meet this fake girl. He’s been seeing Yovanna again and he’s organised a double date kind of thing. For him, Yo, myself and well… I'm hoping, you.”

You blinked hard. “Wait,” you paused. “You want to go on a date with me?”

This had to be dream. Had you just fallen asleep on the sofa? You pinched yourself and checked the wall clock above the television. Only a few minutes had ticked by. Definitely not a dream.

“Fake date.” Frankie corrected and you felt your heart sink slightly.

Or maybe it was a nightmare.

You shuffled around, not knowing how to feel. “Uhm, Frankie… I’m not sure…” you hesitated. All you had wanted for so long was to go on a date with Frankie. A real date. You had been dreaming about the day he would ask you out since you first met him, but this wasn’t what you had pictured at all.

“Please,” Frankie begged, clasping his hands together in a pleaing manner. “Just pretend to be my date.”

And how could you ever say no to Frankie Morales’ puppy dog eyes?

The night of the date, you and Frankie had agreed to meet at the restaurant. You hadn’t really discussed anything prior, but this date, albeit fake, was all you could think about. Every chance you had, you were thinking about Frankie. You wondered how it would be, pretending to be his date. And equally, Frankie was thinking the same.

He struggled to catch any sleep, and instead would lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. He wondered how to fake a date. He didn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable and he simply hadn’t dated anyone in so long. He was so sure that he would embarrass himself, and that you’d never want to talk to him again.

Frankie, Santiago and Yovanna were already sitting around the restaurant table before you arrived. It was a quaint little Italian place on the coast and it had the most beautiful evening view. The sky was darkening and there wasn't a cloud in sight, but instead, pearly white stars pierced the velveteen abyss above and it looked like something straight out of a romance movie. The environment was perfect. The place was slightly out of the usual burger joint budget for Frankie and Santiago, but Yovanna insisted on the high-end restaurant, and even Frankie had to admit it would be nice to eat some good quality food for a change.

You weren’t late, but rather Frankie, Santiago and Yovanna were early. Frankie had already downed three bottles of beer before you arrived, trying to wash away his nerves. By the time you came, he was already slightly intoxicated. His ease was all that mattered and besides, Frankie was a happy drunk.

When Frankie saw you enter the restaurant, it was like his whole world stopped. He always thought you were beautiful, but tonight he was looking at you in a whole different light. You weren’t in your usual sweats and hoodie, and truthfully he had never seen you like this before. Your little black dress hugged your body in all the right places, and your matching heels clicked against the marble floor as you padded over to the table. You felt a blush creep upon your cheeks when you caught Santi gawking.

“Whoa, you clean up well!” Santiago complimented, looking you up and down, grinning ecstatically.

Frankie tried to keep his cool, but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He took in your bare legs and how fine they looked in your dress, and he admired the way you had styled your hair. It was out of your face, and he appreciated that, because now he could infatuate himself over your features. You wore minimal makeup, but your eyeshadow accentuated your eye colour and your choice of lip gloss plumped your lips slightly. Frankie’s eyes went from being drawn to your legs, to now your lips, and he cursed himself for the thoughts he was thinking. Fake date. He reminded himself; but he couldn't help but question— what if it was real? If he could, he’d take you in his arms right then and there and kiss you.

You took your seat next to Yovanna and opposite Frankie, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible, but as you felt Frankie’s eyes burn into you, electricity sparked in your in your lower stomach. A certain kind of excitement. You pushed it away the best you could, focusing on reading the menu in front of you and deciding on the food you would order. Frankie pushed over a vibrant purple drink in a cocktail glass. “I got you your favourite,” Frankie smiled, and you felt your heart flutter. “I hope you don’t mind.”

You smiled and took a sip, but scrunched up your nose when the strong taste of vodka hit. “Um, sweetie,” You thought that tonight you would have to force out the pet names but it came so naturally. “How many shots are in here?”

“It’s a treble.” Frankie bit his lip, watching you with intent as you took another sip. His heart blossomed at the little name you called him.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?!” you gasped playfully and Frankie offered you another warm smile. “I don’t mind. Actually, I need it. Had a bad day at work.” you explained.

“It was Santi’s idea.” he admitted and Santiago innocently raised his hands in response. Frankie reached over the table, taking your hands in his and brushing his thumbs over your knuckles. You felt a shiver run down your spine at his touch. “Bad day?” he furrowed his eyebrows together, concern peaking in his gentle voice.

“Talk about it later.” you promised. Frankie brought your hands to his lips and kissed them softly. You had to stop yourself from swooning on the spot. Your heart began to pick up speed again and at this point, you were finding it difficult to remember that this was all fake.

As the four of you ate your food, you and Frankie were flirting all night; playing footsie under the table and exchanging dirty jokes. At one point, you accidentally ran your heel up his leg and he let out an accidental groan, fillet mignon almost spilling out his mouth. You hurled with laughter and his cheeks rosied up in embarrassment. Both you and Frankie were enjoying yourself way more than you had ever even considered.

“Wait,” you spluttered out in a fluster of giggles. You were still laughing at one of Frankie’s jokes. “Yovanna and Santi have gone home.” You noticed, pointing your finger at the empty seats next to yourself and Frankie.

“Oh yeah,” Frankie replied. “And we didn’t even notice.” He burst into laughter again and you followed, the alcohol really letting you both lose your inhibitions. “That bastard left me with his and Yovanna’s bill too.” Frankie shook his head in disbelief.

“Let me help you pay,” you unzipped your purse but Frankie put his hand out and stopped you.

“Don’t worry baby, this is on me.” Frankie promised and offered you a cheeky wink.

Santiago and Yovanna were gone. They had no one to prove their fake date to— and yet, exchanging flirtatious comments were simply too fun to stop.

“Okay,” you laughed, taking a gulp of red wine. You were sure the warm liquid must have stained your lips crimson with how much you had drunk, but you weren’t too concerned. “But next time, I’m paying.”

“There’s going to be a next time?" Frankie asked you hopefully.

“Isn’t there?” you returned a smile. “This was the best fake date I’ve ever been on.” You and Frankie let out a boisterous laugh, even catching the attention of other couples who were sitting around you trying to enjoy their romantic candlelit dinners.

“Touché,” he agreed, taking out his wallet and signing a check before clipping it to the bill and standing up. He took your hand, pulling you forward but you stumbled to your feet, falling into his chest. He was so broad and his arms were so big. Your feelings for him picked up a notch and you were unsure how long you could keep up the charade of pretending you saw him as just a friend.

You thought about how strong he was, barely flinching when you fell into him, and honestly, it turned you on. He slung his hands around your waist, slowly pushing you off his, but even when you weren’t resting on him anymore, he kept his big hands around you as you left the restaurant and walked through the parking lot to Frankie’s truck. You were grateful because without him guiding you and steadying you, you’d probably struggle to even reach the truck.

The close proximity between you and him made Frankie overwhelmed, his palms getting clammy and his cock hardening from your scent alone. Everything felt so intense. The cool night air took his breath away and he loved the way he could feel the shape of your body through your dress. He craved more.

He hoped that in the darkness of the night, you hadn’t noticed his throbbing length under his jeans. He slid into the driver seat of the car and you sat next to him, strapping yourself in. Frankie turned the key and as you set off, you both sat there in silence. Silence around Frankie was never uncomfortable, but this wasn’t a situation you were used to. It was a big difference to the environment in the bustling restaurant, but now it was just you two, alone, in his car— and you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.

“Come home with me.” You said eventually, not moving an inch and still looking at the road ahead. You managed to find the confidence, but you weren’t yet able to bring yourself to look him in the eye. He was your best friend. And you realised that what you were asking of him was a lot.

Frankie wasn’t put off, in fact, he felt his cock twitch at your words and he had to suppress a moan from escaping his lips. Did you really want him to take you home? As if on cue, you continued your proposal.

“Stay the night.” This verified Frankie’s thoughts and you hoped he had got the hint. You looked up into the rear view mirror and watched Frankie as he concentrated on driving, his body completely tensed up. He didn’t say a word, but when he detoured, you knew he was taking you back to your apartment. You wanted to calm him. Relax him. Soothe him. You let your fingers grace his jean clad leg, accidentally brushing over his erection. Frankie cursed under his breath. “S-sorry.” you mumbled, feeling your face flush. He was already hard. You crossed your legs tight together, trying to ignore the way your cunt was already dripping for him.

“No,” Frankie said. “Was good. Felt good.” his grip on the steering wheel tightened as you contemplated his words. He liked it. You moved your hand over his crotch again and began to palm him as he drove. He felt so constricted in his jeans and he couldn’t wait to get them off. It wasn’t long before his vision began to feel hazy under your touch but luckily he soon pulled up in front of your apartment. You removed your hand from his leg and let yourself out of the truck, feeling dazed also, and hurried inside. Frankie followed, loosing his belt as he stepped foot into the building. He was throbbing and in such desperate need of relief.

You pressed the button and waited for the elevator to come. By the time Frankie caught up with you, it was here, and the pair of you stepped inside. As the doors began to close on you, Frankie crashed his lips onto yours, pushing his body against you. This time it was his turn to touch you. His rough manner made you gasp but you needed to feel his body against yours. You let his hands explore you, his fingers rolling over the curves of your breasts and the dips in your waist. Within seconds, the elevator door opened with a ping and you had reached the floor of your apartment. Hungrily, you grabbed Frankie by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to your front door, unlocking it with haste. Once you were inside, you turned to shut the door behind you when Frankie pinned you against it. His hands were on your wrists and your arms were spread out over the wood. He pressed a kiss into your jaw. “You want this?” his voice was rough and barely above a whisper, and his manner made your knees weak. He was so close to you, you could smell the beer mixed with his fragrance.

You didn’t dare move, but instead mewled out a tiny “yes”. Frankie smirked and turned you around so he could look at you in the eyes. He still had a hold of you, his grip was as tight as vice and his eyes were no longer the usual shade of honeyed brown but instead were much darker and lustful with a predatory glint. He kissed you again, hard, and his tongue swiped along your lower lip, begging for entry which you quickly granted. It was easy to get lost in the kiss; he was so good and so passionate. He worked his hands all over your body, pulling the occasional moan from your lips. Hearing the noises you made felt like music to his ears. You felt his hardened manhood press against the inside of your thigh and you shuddered, breaking the kiss to regain your breath. “Bedroom.” you mumbled out. You took Frankie’s hand and dragged him through the living room and into your small bedroom. He sat himself down on the edge of your bed and began to kick off his shoes when you took him by surprise and straddled him, wrapping your legs around him and initiating another heated kiss.

You needed some kind of release and on impulse, you began to grind yourself over Frankie’s denim clad leg. Your heart was racing as you rubbed yourself over the material, a fire burning deep in your stomach at the friction between the jeans and the thin silk panties you were sporting. Frankie placed a soft kiss to your lips, along your jaw, and down your neck as you began to get yourself off on him. He bit down gently, leaving his mark, wanting to claim you as his own. “Mine.” His voice was dark and you grabbed his shoulders, grinding on his leg harder.

“Yours.” You shakily exhaled, trying to keep your composure. You shuffled forward, further onto him and started rubbing yourself over his erection, pulling a groan from his lips, and you couldn’t help but smile knowing that this was your doing. You kept at it, enjoying the control, and watched Frankie’s eyes close from the sensation as you grinded over him.

“Yeah baby that’s it,” he praised. “Take what you need.”

Those four words threw you over the edge. You reached up, letting your fingers tangle in Frankie’s chocolate coloured locks of hair, tugging at them as you rode out your high. He opened his eyes, watching you as you dropped your head back, seeing stars. You were truly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Feeling satisfied, you scrambled off him, your legs shaky and he grabbed the hem of your dress. He began to pull it off you as eagerly as he could. Frankie noticed the damp patch on his leg from your wetness and muttered another curse. You were so wet and it was all for him. He looked up at you, watching you kick your dress to one side and felt his jaw tick. He was mesmerised by your body. In only your panties, you straddled him once more, and Frankie let his hands roam over your breasts, giving them the occasional squeeze.

“My turn.” you told him, pulling his shirt over his head and pushing him into the blankets of your bed. He let out a soft groan as his head hit your pillow and you shuffled backwards a little. You unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them before pulling them down to his ankles. Frankie kicked them off and they pooled into a pile amongst his shirt and your dress at the bottom of the bed. A little gasp escaped your lips when you eyed up his hardened length under the thin cloth of his boxer shorts, a small patch of wetness already visible. You dipped your hands into his underwear and pulled him out, licking your lips at the sight of his precum beading at the tip.

You let your fingers wander his length, teasingly, making sure you were as soft as possible. Then, you pulled away and spat into your hand. You wrapped your hand around his cock and began pumping at it. “Ngh, s-so good,” Frankie grunted, closing his eyes as you worked at him. “Haven’t-haven’t been touched in so long.”

“Relax,” you soothed. “Let me take care of you.”

Frankie bucked his hips further into your hand and you kept going. His eyes fluttered shut and his mind was in a solid state of euphoria. This was better than he had ever imagined and he knew he wouldn’t last long. You stroked him up and down and watched him as he came undone beneath you.

“Wanted this for so long,” he admits mindlessly. “Imagined this, so many nights… imagined your pretty lips around my-”

You cut Frankie off by taking his length in your mouth and pushing as deep as you could, opening your throat up to him and gagging slightly from his length. However, it didn’t take long to become comfortable with the way his cock filled you. He let out a gasp, his back arching and his fists grabbing the bed sheets. You bobbed your head up and down and he took a fistful of your hair, only encouraging you further.

He raised his head and watched you take him. Your hand still wet, you begin to pump the remaining length of him that you couldn’t fit into your mouth and he shudders in ecstasy. With your free hand, you cradle his balls, rubbing circles with your thumb and you can feel him almost lose it completely.

“Won’t last,” he warns you. “Please, wanna be inside you. Wanna feel your pussy.” he practically begs and as soon as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, you pull off him, leaving a trail of your saliva between your tongue and his length.

You admired Frankie’s naked body spread out in your bed, a thin sheen of sweat glazing over his chest. It was a sight you had only dreamed about. He sat up and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you down so now he was on top. He positioned himself in between your legs and gently spread them apart, eyeing up the dark patch in the crotch of your panties from where you had previously orgasmed on his leg. He let his finger glide over the material, rubbing against the bud of your clit and you whimpered in desperation. “So wet for me.” he drew out. “Can I taste?” he asked, looked up at you with his big brown eyes. You wanted to smack that innocent look he had playing on his face.

“Frankieee.” you cried out. You would never, ever deny oral from Frankie but right now you craved something else. “Need you inside me. Please.”

Frankie pulled your panties down your legs and threw them to the floor. “Oh baby,” he moaned, running his fingers through your slick wet folds. “I’m just warming up.” his voice was like honey and he attached his mouth to your clit, sucking intently. You threw your head back at the sensation and felt his mustache and stubble tickle you as he worked your core.

This was better than anything Frankie had ever dreamed about. He needed to taste every drop of your arousal. He had wanted this for so long, and now it was finally happening. He wanted to savour every moment like it was his last. After all, you two were the best of friends and he didn’t know where exactly you’d stand about all of this tomorrow. If you’d even want to see him again. You were both risking a lot but somehow, it felt worthwhile.

Frankie found it difficult to remain composed as he devoured you and felt your body shake as you neared your climax. He grabbed your thighs, steadying you as you let out a wail. “Please Frankie.” you cried out, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Need you inside of me.”  You reminded, tugging on his hair even harder. He took his finger and grazed your entrance while still working his tongue against you. “Stop teasing.”

For once, Frankie listened to you and pulled his lips away from you. He thought he could cum just from eating you out and he didn’t want that to happen. This could be his only chance. You groaned in frustration at the break of contact. You were so close and he had edged you completely before pulling away. You had asked for it. He was such a tease. Frankie hovered himself over you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You felt his cock nudge against your core and you dug your fingernails into his back. You needed him now.

“Do you have a condom?” Frankie whispered into your ear. He hadn’t brought any to the fake date because truthfully, he didn’t expect the night would be ending like this.

“I’m safe.” you promised him and he smiled, kissing your lips. You laced your fingers into his hair as he steadied himself on the bed.

“Are you ready?” Frankie questioned, nudging his cock over your entrance again causing you to let out a wail.

“Please Frankie. I’m ready.”

The second those two words left your lips, Frankie thrusted deep inside you. You gasped as he slowly adjusted himself inside of you and, still experiencing your high from when he ate you out, you knew you wouldn't ask long. He felt your walls tighten around him and he knew it too.

“I’m gonna cum.” you warned him, tugging on his curls at the nape of his neck and pulling his head down into your collarbones. He pinched at your skin with his teeth and increased his speed.

“Cum for me.” He instructed, his voice dark. With a few more sloppy thrusts, you came undone beneath him, dragging your nails down his back. He didn’t stop and continued to thrust into you as you climaxed causing small screams to emit from your lips. Frankie loved the little noises you made.

“Shit,” he whispered, his coarse hands finding and massaging your breasts. “Your cunt gets so tight when you cum.”

“Frankieeee, keep doing that and I’ll cum again.” you said softly and you felt Frankie’s lips twist into a wicked smirk as he pushed himself deeper inside of you.

“Ngh you feel so good,” Frankie grunted, pearls of sweat beading at his hairline. “Can you cum for me again? Can you give me another one?”

“Yes Frankie,” you obeyed, cupping your hands around his face and forcing him to look you in the eyes while he fucked you. His coarse facial hair grazed your hands but nothing felt as good as his length filling you up, hitting you in just the right spot with each thrust.

“I want you to cum with me,” Frankie gasped, groaning loudly as he felt his cock twitch inside you. He was close, and you could feel it too. “Same time.” he instructed. He was so used to giving orders, that it turned you on even more. “Can you do that for me?” his voice was urged and he kept his pace consistent.

You managed to give him a small nod and closed your eyes feeling nothing but pure bliss and ecstasy. “I’m close!” you managed to cry out.

“Me too, n-not long baby,” Frankie promised you. “Say my name.”

“Fuck Frankie, you fuck me so good. Your cock fills me up so well. Feels so good,” you moaned, your legs tightening around his waist.

“That’s it.” Frankie groaned.

“Cum inside me Frankie,” you gasped. “Pl-please. Need to feel your warm cum inside of me.”

“Gonna count down baby girl,” Frankie said, straightening up and pushing more hard thrusts inside of you. He admired your tangled body between him and brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing at it while he finished fucking you. “Are you ready?”

“Frankieeee.” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut.

“3, 2,” Frankie pushed one final deep thrust into you. “1.” You and Frankie both came together, your wet cunt squeezing his cock like a vice and his thick ropes of cum spilling inside of you.

Frankie rolled off you and lay next to you. You curled yourself into his damp chest and he slung his arm around you. You felt safe. Protected. You knew that Frankie would never let anyone or anything hurt you but now it felt different. He was your safety, and you were his home. For a few minutes, you both laid there in silence trying to regain your breath and settle down.

“That was-” Frankie started but you cut him off.

“So good.” you smiled and he grinned back in agreement.

“The best.” He replied and gave you a little squeeze of reassurance.

“Hey Frankie?” You asked and he hummed in acknowledgement. “If that was a fake date… what the hell do you do on a fake date?” You raised an eyebrow and giggled when you saw Frankie’s cheeks rosy up.

“Wanna find out?” He beckoned and your grin couldn’t have grown any wider. You were finally going to get your chance to have a real date with Frankie.

[fific7]

Ticket to Ride - Part 5

Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: Inspired by The Beatles song of the same name. This takes place in my S1 Punisher AU with Arrogant!Billy in attendance, in which he gets a taste of his own medicine.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral and unprotected, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit)

𝕄𝕪 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖

𝕄𝕪 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖

𝕄𝕪 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy had begun to doze off in the warmth of the gathering dusk, so when he heard her voice saying his name, he was startled. He swung round to where she was standing behind him then leapt up and went to her, folding her into his arms and just hugging her, saying nothing.

After a few short moments, she pushed back from him and stepped away, began walking towards the hotel. “I’m going to take a shower, Billy. Then I think we should go somewhere and eat. And talk,” she said over her shoulder.

“Okay, sweetheart, I’ll be here waitin’ on you.”

At least she let me hug her, he thought.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Walking out of the hotel and across the courtyard after your shower, you saw Billy lying flat out across the park bench, boots on the ground and long legs bent at the knees where the seat ended. His eyes were closed and you realised he’d dozed off.

“Billy.” No response. “Billy!” slightly louder. Still no movement. You reached out a hand, shook his shoulder and jumped slightly when his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. His dark brown eyes were wide open now and staring up at you, and he immediately let go of you. “Ahhh… sorry sweetheart, didn’t realise it was you.” “Spidey senses not working any longer, Marine?” He grinned up at you, before moving and standing up next to you. “You’re to blame, kitten. I’m losing sleep over you.”

You scoffed, “Uhuh. Sure you are. Well, let’s get this show on the road. I’ve got a rec from the reception guy for dinner.” You turned and started walking quickly towards the alleyway, Billy taking only two long strides to catch up with you. “Where we headed?” “Just a little way along the waterfront, past that big church - Il Redentore. There’s a restaurant with tables right next to the water, called ‘I Figli delle Stelle’. Means ‘Children of the Stars’.” You’d turned your head towards him as you spoke and he smirked at you, “Sounds romantic, angel.” Eye roll from you, “That wasn’t my intention, believe me. The reception guy said it would still be pretty quiet at this time of the evening, later on it’ll get busy as the locals eat dinner around 9.30 or 10 pm.”

“Oh, okay,” he said, sounding a little despondent, “I hear ya.” The two of you walked in single file as you made your way through the alleyway, and Billy hurried to get back next to you as you turned right at the waterfront. There was a tense silence as you walked, and you surely weren’t going to be the one to break it. You could tell that Billy was antsy as hell and you were glad… he should be, the big douchebag. After a few moments, he asked, “How much further is this place?” like a kid on a day trip. “I think it’s that group of tables along there,” you answered, “so only a couple of minutes.” Billy wasn’t the most patient of men. “Okay,” he mumbled.

Lordy, he was getting more tense by the minute, you could feel negative energy coming off him in waves. You knew Billy, knew he’d be dreading talking about what he’d done, his feelings, having to (no doubt) apologise over and over. Serves you right, you big bastard, you thought.

Arriving beside the restaurant tables, you noted that only two tables were occupied so you should be able to have a certain amount of privacy in which to hear Billy’s confession. Checking for ‘reserved’ signs, you chose a table in the row right next to the water, well away from the other patrons. The maitre d’ appeared next to you holding two menus, and you asked in Italian if it was okay to sit at the table you’d chosen. Assured that it was fine, he asked if you wanted to order drinks and you asked for a large glass of rosé Prosecco and a Peroni for Billy. As he nodded and walked away, Billy asked, “Whaddya order for me?” You started laughing and he stared at you, puzzled. “Billy… with a last name like Russo I cannot believe you don’t know that Peroni is an Italian beer!”

He looked shamefaced, “Yeah, yeah, okay! So I’m a terrible Italian-American. Thanks for orderin’ a beer for me, not in the mood for wine.” You and Billy began reading through the menu, suitably impressed by the delicious-sounding dishes on offer. The drinks appeared shortly afterwards, and you made your choices - Billy had decided on a steak, and you’d chosen seafood linguine. You clinked your glass to Billy’s beer bottle, “Salut.” Billy grinned, “Yeah, so here’s me - the Italian-American - and there’s you, the all-American girl, Italian rollin’ off your tongue. I didn’t know you spoke it, sweetheart.” You smirked at him as you sipped your chilled Prosecco, “Seems like there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Billy. Like… how I will not tolerate cheating in any way, shape or form.”

A pained look crossed his face. Yeah, Billy… time to spill.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy took a long swig of his beer and cleared his throat. Here goes nothing, he thought. She was studying his face like it was a painting hanging in a gallery.

“I’ve been an asshole.”

She nodded, “I know you have, Billy. Cheating 1.01 - don’t lie about working late and then come home smelling of booze and another woman’s perfume. Oh… and a big smear of her lipstick on the inside collar of one of your shirts.” He winced, looking away, not able to meet her eyes. He twirled the beer bottle round a few times on the table top and finally met her gaze again. “Yeah, not smart, I agree. But… angel, I didn’t actually cheat on you. Not as such.”

She laughed, but it was not a happy sound. “Not as such?! What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He reached across and put his hand over hers, but she pulled hers away. “Frankie and I got into some shit with Homeland - to do with Afghanistan back when we were servin’.” He saw her eyebrows rise, and hurried on, “We sorted alla-that out with them, but had to agree to carry out a joint operation with them on somethin’ related to it. We found out that our liaison agent - Dinah Madani - was holdin’ back some critical information from us and we needed to know what and why, and make sure she didn’t do it in future.”

Taking a sip of her Prosecco she laughed, again without humour. “Don’t tell me, she wears Eternity.” He looked at her, confused, “What?” “Her perfume, Billy, her perfume.” He shrugged, “I really dunno.” “That’s not good, Billy. She’ll be expecting you to buy her some for her birthday.” He’d been drinking his beer and he brought the bottle back down with a bang. “No! I won’t be buyin’ anything for her anytime, okay?” he hissed at her, aware that the other diners’ heads had turned towards them at the loud noise his beer bottle had made on the table top. He leant in further towards her but then spotted the waiter heading their way with their plates, and moved back in his seat.

Silence fell again, even after the waiter had gone. Napkins unfolded and placed on laps, cutlery picked up, sips of drinks taken, first forkfuls of food eaten, gazing at Venice across the canal.

Billy cut another piece of his fillet steak, looking down at his plate while saying in a low voice, “I knew Madani had the hots for me. An’ I… I used that to my advantage.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were thoughtfully chewing your mouthful of linguine, swallowing it before picking up your flute of Prosecco and sipping from it. He was silent, also chewing, still not meeting your eye. Let him pick this back up, you thought and sat back slightly, silent.

His eyes slowly raised to yours, apprehension apparent in them. Another throat clearing, another swig of beer…. a big one. Oh ho, you thought, whatever was about to come out must be really bad. You were mad at him but at the same time couldn’t deny you were dreading what you were about to hear.

“I… uh.. took her out a few times for drinks after work. Made out with her a couple times after we left the bar…” he gulped visibly, “Uh… felt her up, let her feel me up.” He broke eye contact, grabbed the beer bottle again and took a huge drink, muttering “Sorry, I’m really sorry,” before looking fearfully at you once more. You stared back at him and hoped your face was expressionless. You actually wanted to smack him in the face and stalk off back to your hotel, but that masochistic streak goaded you to say, “Oh yeah? ….And?” He narrowed his eyes, “And what?” “Exactly, Billy - and what? You’re seriously telling me that was it? It stopped right there?” He nodded vigorously, “Yeah! Yes, sweetheart - it did, I swear!”

Picking up your glass once more, you said in a low voice, “Sorry, Billy, I don’t believe you. I think you took her to some shitty motel and the two of you fucked. Maybe more than once.” His face flushed but then you realised he was angry, not caught out in a lie.

“No,” he said between gritted teeth, “I. Did. Not!” emphasising each word with a thump of his hand on the table. He leant across the table until his face was very close to yours, “It was my stupid fucked-up version of a honey trap, okay! I hated lyin’ to you, angel, and I’m so, so sorry I did that, but I was between a rock and a hard place. I had to find out what her game was. I don’t trust her an inch and I think she’s still after me an’ Frankie for somethin’ else that went down in Kandahar.”

You watched his eyes become distant, and you knew in his head he was back in that hellhole. “Seems like a helluva lot went down in Kandahar,” you said quietly, and his eyes refocused on yours. “Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea,’ he said softly, and chanced placing his hand on yours again. This time you didn’t draw away. “I don’t want you to have to hear all about that shitshow, but I’ll tell you another time… if you want me to.” He laced his fingers through yours, and squeezed your hand, “I promise you, on my life, that I’ll never lie to you again. Total honesty, I swear.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You sighed, “Billy… I appreciate the sentiment, I do… but it doesn’t matter because we’re not together any more.” Billy rocked backwards as if you’d slapped him, and he stuttered, “But.. but we.. I… no! We are! We are still together!” You shook your head, “Maybe you don’t think that what you did with - what was her name again, Madani?” (you absolutely knew what her name was) “yeah, Madani - was cheating but Billy, you kissed her, you got up close and personal with her. You let her think you were interested in her, that she had a shot of getting with you. Okay you say you didn’t sleep with her, maybe you didn’t - but you still went behind my back and acted like you wanted to be with her. How can you expect me to be with you after you betrayed me like that? I don’t share, Billy - even if it’s fake.”

His eyes were wide, filling with tears. “No…please. Don’t say that, please. I… I can’t be without you, you’re the only one who makes me feel safe and… loved.” He placed his other hand on top of your joined hands, and his voice was so low you almost couldn’t hear it, “I love you, angel. So much.”

Now it was your turn to sit back abruptly in your seat. You and Billy had never had that conversation. You loved him but you’d made sure never to tell him that, as you didn’t believe he’d ever reciprocate the feeling. And now he’d said it. First. Before you had.

But did he mean it? Or just saying it to try and stop you breaking up with him?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He saw her taking in what he’d just said. He’d known that he loved her for some time but couldn’t get the words past his lips, he’d been shit-scared to say it out loud. Just let the status quo prevail, until she’d left him.

He was not going to let her break up with him. He just wouldn’t allow it, he needed her. She still had not said anything so he laid a finger on her bottom lip and gently ran it back and forward. He sensed he needed to say something more.

“I’m not just sayin’ it for effect, angel. I’ve been in love with you for a while but I’ve been too scared to say anything, I… I wasn’t sure you felt the same way.” She was still gazing at him, her eyes wide and looking a little teary. He felt a tear running down his own cheek and wiped it away abruptly. “Please don’t break up with me, just…. don’t, please. Give me another chance, I promise I won’t screw up this time.”

He heard her draw in a big breath and his stomach knotted. What was she going to say?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“Oh Billy….” you raised a hand and wiped away another tear from his cheek, “I… need a little time to take all this in, okay? I thought it was quite straightforward - you’d cheated on me, end of story. And don’t think that because you tell me you love me I’m gonna forget about what you did, because I can’t. Not just like that.” You snapped your fingers in the air. “But you’ve really muddied the waters for me now.”

Billy grinned tearfully at you, “Well, I’m glad I’ve managed to do that at the very least. Means I might still have a chance.” You must’ve looked sceptical or something because he rushed to say, “A very slim chance, I know.”

Sighing, you extricated your hands from his and picked up your fork. “Let’s finish our dinner before it gets totally cold and inedible and we can talk more later.”

He nodded, “Okay, sweetheart. Must admit, I’m starvin’.” You couldn’t stop yourself smiling at him, “When they say that an army marches on its stomach, they weren’t kidding, were they?” “Hell no they weren’t,” he grinned back at you.

You moved on to small talk and once dinner was finished and paid for a short while later, the two of you strolled back to the hotel. Billy had tucked your hand into the crook of his elbow, and you’d let him. Your brain wasn’t really functioning at normal speed at that point and you were looking forward to getting back to your room; you wanted to think very carefully about what you were going to do about Billy.

Back at the hotel, you made your way past Reception and headed for the stairs, Billy following close behind you. Reaching your door, you didn’t unlock it but turned to face him. You could see the hopeful look on his face but he was going to be disappointed. You weren’t going to take that step tonight, no matter how much you missed Billy, his arms around you, his body next to yours, legs tangled together. You gave him a small smile, and you saw the hope fading out of his eyes.

You put a hand on his arm, “Let’s spend some time together tomorrow. I want to visit the Lagoon islands.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The Lagoon islands? He had no idea what or where those were, but he’d go to the moon if she wanted to because she’d said they could spend some time together. “So, no more running out on me, angel?” She smiled more widely at him, “No, not for now, Billy.”

He took a chance and pulled her into his arms, his mouth finding hers in a heated kiss. She didn’t stop him, so one hand made its way to the back of her neck and the other down onto her waist. He pushed his hips into hers - he knew she felt his arousal - and he was still holding out a tiny bit of hope that she’d invite him into her bed.

But now she did pull away, laughing up at him and giving him a quick soft kiss on the cheek, “G’night, Billy, sleep well.” He shook his head, smiling back at her, “You know I won’t… not in this state,” gesturing at his zip area and the tightened fabric of his jeans. She waggled her right hand at him, “Isn’t that what this is for?” He grabbed it, guiding it immediately to his zip, “If you’re offerin’, sweetheart, I’d be more than happy to take you up on that.” “Your hand! Not mine, you cheeky devil!” she laughed, pulling her hand away from him, “Now, goodnight! I’ll see you in the morning, downstairs for breakfast at about 8 or half past, okay?” He nodded, pushing his luck again and stroking her cheek, kissing her once more but more reserved this time, “G’night, angel, have sweet dreams…of me.” Rolling her eyes, she unlocked her door and disappeared into her room.

Billy walked jauntily along the corridor, throwing in a couple of dance moves as he went, feeling elated. He was feeling really optimistic for the first time since the day he’d seen her ‘Goodbye’ note and the torn photo.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

(My photos - June 2012)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry @odetostep @supernaturalcat7 @obscurilicious @strawb3rrydr3ss @bruxa0007 @aleksanderwh0r3 @theshadowkingsqueen @bat-luna-cat @carlywhomever

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[wordsnwhiskey]

As It Should Be Verse: Hold Onto The Sunset Drabble/Oneshot

A/N: This is my go at Writer Wednesday, hosted by the amazing @autumnleaves1991-blog . I've got this set in the future of the As It Should Be verse. I figured since Chapter 3: Statesmen & Demons left off on a bit of a sad note I'd give you guys some fluff to tide you over until Ch 4!

It's 03:30 here and this is unedited so I might come back and see if something is egregiously wrong but otherwise this is going to stand.

Warnings: None? Aside from a polyam MMF relationship that's all fluff (with PDA) here!

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales [AO3]

The sand was warm beneath your toes as you shifted in your decidedly uneven folding chair. A few crushed beer cans littered the table but you were all too enthralled in your game of Hold ‘Em to care. The smell of charcoal and grilled food floats teasingly in the air. Santiago had abandoned your game to go and start grilling otherwise we won’t eat until the sun’s long gone. Yeah, that was it. It had nothing to do with the fact that he had handedly lost his last hand and consequently the rest of his money, to Frankie.

It was Jack’s turn to deal and you watch his large hands palm and manipulate the well-worn deck. The whirring sound of the cards folding together followed by the sharp tap against the table as he shuffled was calming and sounded as natural as the ocean waves licking at the beach did. You paused a moment before looking at your cards to try to gauge everyone else's reactions only to find three pairs of brown eyes and one pair of green eyes staring back at you. Laughter rang out across the table, that’s just what happens when you play poker with Statesmen agents and Delta Force vets. Schooling your facial expressions, you peel back the corners of your cards to see your hand: a Jack and 10 of spades.

“Call.” Came Tequila’s cheery drawl.

“Fold.” Ginger sighed and tossed her cards back to the center of the glass table.

“I’m getting another beer from the cooler. Does anyone else want one?”

Her question was met with chorus of ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’. She smiled then rolled her eyes and went about collecting the cold, wet cans from the cooler.

“Call.” Continues Jack with his trademark smirk.

“Call.” Frankie’s voice is a bit rough from having just downed the remainder of his beer.

You called wordlessly, your chips following the others’ as they clinked on the glass table top, then Jack dealt the flop: 9 of hearts, 8 of spades and Ace of diamonds.

Jack’s gaze was on you, gauging your reaction and wondering if you had an Ace to match the one on the table. The betting went around, Jack raised, a classic aggressive opening move from him, but you were all somewhat surprised when Frankie re-raised him. All eyes narrowed at Frankie. The man had a scary good poker face, keeping the tension out of his jaw and meeting everyone’s gaze with those brown puppy eyes of his. It was how he had trounced Santi earlier.

Ginger came back with your beers and set them down on the table before taking back her seat, watching in amusement. You called and Jack dealt the turn card: a Queen of spades.

“You waitin’ on a Jack there darlin’?”

Jack challenged and raised, his voice was rough honey as he tried to get a rise out of you.

You let a laugh spill from your lips and your own mischievous smirk lights a spark in your eye.

“Oh no, I’ve already got a Jack and you’re more than enough. I don’t think I could handle another.”

Frankie’s neutral face breaks into a wide grin and Jack’s mind starts spinning, trying to assess all of the possible meanings behind what you just said. The three of you call and Jack throws down the river: a 7 of spades. What were the fucking odds?

Tequila frowned then checked, Jack raised, Frankie called and you re-raised. A collection of groans were uttered across the table but they all ponied up anyways.

“Straight Flush. Pay up boys!”

You don’t even bother to hide the smugness in your voice. Tequila huffed and cracked his beer open.

“Santiago! Is the food done yet? I thought you said we’d be eating before the sun went down?”

He was exaggerating of course, it wasn’t nearly that late and the summer sun was slow to set over the water. Tequila got up to go and lick his wounds with Santiago around the grill. You got up as well, walking around and pressing a kiss to Frankie’s lips before Jack unceremoniously tugged you into his lap for a kiss as well and smiled.

“C’mere, darlin’ I want one too.”

His smile is good natured, your boys were rarely ever jealous of each other. Something cold and wet makes you jump, your eyes darting to the offending object only to see Frankie’s wide grin and mischievous eyes as he holds your cold beer to your arm. You playfully smack Frankie’s arm then take your beer with a thank you. You’re pleasantly surprised when Frankie lifts your legs to rest in his lap, his fingers grazing over them as he sips his own beer.

Frankie deals the next hand and you can’t help but giggle at how ridiculous it is being in Jack’s lap and trying to keep your cards from each other. Ginger wipes the floor with all of you that hand.

Hooting and hollering, draws your group’s attention across the beach and you see Benny and Will ambling across the sand, each with a six pack in their hands. Benny practically tackles Santiago as he brings him in for a hug.

“Hey! Watch it Benny, I’m grilling here!”

Will shakes his head and pulls Santi in for a decidedly calmer hug and Benny is already waltzing over to the table where you, Frankie, Whiskey, Ginger and Tequila are. Frankie lets your feet down and stands to give Benny a hug.

“Fish! Good to see ya man!”

“Good to see you too, Benny.”

You’re out of Jack’s lap, to his slight dismay, and hugging Benny, it had been years since you had last seen the lovable younger Miller brother.

“Benny, this is Whiskey, Ginger and Tequila, we all work together.”

Benny didn’t even bat an eye and just greeted everyone with a large smile.

“Whiskey, Ginger and Tequila! Well, don’t you all sound like fun!”

Laughter rang out amongst everyone and Santiago called out that the food was done.

“Why don’t you stay here, honey. Benny and I will get plates for you and Whiskey.”

Frankie wasn’t really asking a question and it wasn’t much of a choice since you found yourself once again back in Jack’s lap, his mustache tickling your skin as his lips pressed to your cheek then temple.

Benny clapped Frankie on the back as they walked over to where Santiago had set out their food.

“So you and Hawk and… ?”

“Yeah, and Whiskey, the three of us, together.”

Benny eyed Frankie for a moment, more out of concern than any judgement.

“Well right on, Fish. It’s good to see you happy. About time with Hawk too, huh?”

Frankie fought and lost against his blush, playfully shoving Benny. They brought their plates back to where you and Whiskey were sitting. Frankie put Whiskey’s plate down, inched his chair closer then sat down. Benny handed you your plate with a flourish.

“Here you go, baby.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head and smiling at him even as Jack’s grip on your hip tightened slightly.

“Thanks, Benny.”

He left the three of you then and went to mingle with Ginger and Tequila.

The three of you ate in easy silence. Your feet were draped across Frankie’s lap, your back cradled by Jack’s arm and head resting on his shoulder. Frankie’s fingers alternated between tracing patterns over your skin and resting on Jack’s free hand.

Laughter played off of the sand and air around you, mixing with the sound of the waves. A light, content smile played across your lips as you watched your friends together. It was getting darker now and the sky was painted varying shades of pink, purple, and orange.

“Wow.”

The word slipped from your mouth in awe. Frankie and Jack hummed their agreement in unison and you swear sometimes they were on the same wavelength. You let out a long sigh then take a sip of your beer and settle in further against Jack.

“Whatcha thinking, honey?”

Frankie’s voice is just above a whisper, as if talking any louder would break the spell of perfection that had settled around your group and mother nature.

“I wish I could just hold onto this moment, hold onto this sunset. I’m with the loves of my life, for the first time my family is all together, they’re all having fun and I can’t think of a place I’d rather be than right here watching this sunset.”

Jack held you tighter and kissed your shoulder while Frankie brought your knuckles to his lips.

“We love you too, honey. Couldn’t imagine being anywhere else either.”

Frankie murmurs against your skin and you feel Jack’s hum through his chest. You take in the sight before you, memorizing it so you can paint the canvas in your mind and hold this moment with you, your own slice of heaven. Breathing in, you hold onto the remnants of charcoal from the grill and the salt from the ocean. You hold onto the feeling of the warmth radiating from the last rays of the fading light. It gives way to the heat emanating from Jack and Frankie, which envelops not just your body but your soul as well. You let out a sigh as Frankie leans in closer to you and Jack.

You were going to hold onto this sunset for the rest of your days.

Thanks for reading y'all!

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[acdeaky]

to tell you the truth (i’m still in love with you)

warning: angst, fluff, mentions of sex

note: oscar isaac’s hot, no question. anyway, enjoy this, babies

word count: 3.3k

gif credit: @damerondjarin

it was dark out when you woke. the loud, incessant banging on the front door of your apartment had jerked you awake, and the minimal amount of lighting coming through the curtains let you know it was very early - or very late.

a part of you was tempted to roll back over under your sheets, pull them up to your chin and fall back asleep, but the knocking only seemed to become louder and more frequent.

you pulled off your covers and flicked on the small lamp by your bedside. your clock showed 2:43 as you shook your head and began to make your way through your small apartment to answer whoever thought it was a good idea to show up at your door right now.

you had an idea who it could be. there had been a few times when santiago had appeared on your doorstep in distress. on those occasions, you coaxed him inside with soft words and gentle touches as he pulled himself in on heavy feet, the weight of the world seemingly on his shoulders.

looking through your peephole, you knew this would be no different as you noticed the familiar stubble and greying hair of santiago’s, looking ever the same after three years. even after so long, you were who he crawled to, the only person who could calm the noise in his head.

the locks clicked as they were shifted, the hinges creaking afterwards as you pull the door open.

and, just as you knew, there he was. santiago’s usual, confident self was gone; even just looking at the way he held himself could tell you that. it almost looked like he was leaning against an invisible pole, his old stance gone, a new, tired one filling its place.

but he was here, and alive, and even after three years the only thing you could think of was-

“hi.” was all he said, a duffel bag by his feet and his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. 

“hi, welcome home.” you simply spoke, leaning against your doorframe, feeling like your heart was about the burst the longer you stood and looked at him. 

“do you know?” there was a slight quiver to his voice and his head dipped down from yours. “do you know where i went?” 

“frankie told me. when you left that night, i waited a couple of days for you to come back. then i asked fish if he knew where you were and he said you were in south america. i asked when you’d be back and he didn't know. i didn't expect you to be back three years later.”

you could almost remember that day, as clear as if it happened yesterday. the night before he left, your best friend, santiago garcia, invited himself to your apartment - like many nights - and brought dinner. he laid the excuse as wanting to spend time with you, have a night like you used to (even though it had only been a week or so since you last did something like this together). 

but santiago didn't take no for an answer; he let himself through the door and began pulling out containers of food and a couple of bottle of drinks. you welcomed it pleasantly, happy to be spending a night with just him, just santi, no tom or benny or will or frankie. no comments about your relationship, no teasing over your choice of drink (or teasing in general, which santiago would always reply with ‘they mean well’, and you know they do). 

a few hours later, the food was gone and you had both had a few drinks. the sun was settling down on the horizon and, if you looked carefully, you could begin to see the moon creeping up behind it. the red and orange sky covered your open room with light, bringing in a peaceful glow with it. the light settled on santiago, like it was used to his body and the dips and bumps covering him. 

he looked like a vision, ethereal. a beautiful dream which you had experienced so many times and you were selfish enough to only want to see it yourself for the end of time. you believed no one would appreciate it like you do, no one would find the same amount of beauty as you find in santiagoas he lets himself bask in the light. 

neither of you had realised that you had moved closer to each other over the course of the evening. you had started on almost opposite sides of the sofa, but now found your thighs pressed against the other’s, you shoulders bumping into each other’s as you moved. 

santiago’s music was playing in the background. at some point - god knows when - he had gone into the kitchen and, as he came back, the soft notes of his favourite song floated from the speakers and settled around you two. he handed you another drink, sitting back onto the sofa and leaning slightly towards you, his arm slung across the back cushions. his hand landed on your shoulder, and his fingers began drawing light patterns across your skin while he conversed with you. 

it was something that rarely happened. santiago had done this with you before, that being eating, drinking and relaxing, allowing the music to pull you from the real world as you talked until the early hours. never been so close and intimate. at the time, you thought nothing of it as his lips came to meet yours in a delicate attempt at confessing his feelings. 

the words “i've fallen in love with you” escaping his lips as they ghosted against yours, his breath hot and sticky against your skin as you replied, “i've fallen in love with you, too”.

santiago made you feel things you'd never felt before that night. he touched you with softness behind it, allowing his lips to travel wherever they could reach before picking you up off the sofa and trekking through the apartment to your room. 

the two of you spent the night together filling it with passion, giggled and delicate kisses. neither of you could get enough of one another. to you, he tasted so good, like nothing you've ever endured before, something good and amazing and so characteristically santiago. to him, you tasted like home, a forever presence that he refused to get rid of. 

and he really didn't want to. 

come morning, the sheets beside you were cold and pulled back. the couple of bits he haphazardly threw on the bedside table the night before were gone and so were the clothes you remember tugging from his body. the only thing he left was his jacket; it was the one you loved on him, that smelt like him. alongside it was a note, the words ‘i love you, but there's something i have to do’ were carefully engraved on the paper. 

that's when you waited. you gave santiago a few days to do whatever it was before you turned to frankie. that was a difficult conversation in itself and you could tell that frankie was as confused and conflicted as you were. he offered you an answer, more than santiago had given you, and a response to a question that no one in the world could answer, not even santiago. 

“i'm sorry-” 

“santi,” you stopped him, not wanting to do this - whatever it was - on the doorstep of your apartment at almost three in the morning. “do you - its late - but do you wanna come in?”

santiago looked back up at you, seeing your warm smile and kind eyes, something he had missed for the last three years. “yeh- yes, please.” you gave him a light nod, stepping further back into your apartment to give him space to pull himself through with his duffle bag. 

even after three years, he was still your santi. the cap he adorned was one you had spotted and persuaded him to buy; one which he had worn almost every single day since he went away. the jacket was new, one to replace his other one, but it fit him well, allowing his broad shoulders a chance to be seen. the colour suited him, too, a dark navy blue. 

he was heavy on his feet as he entered, shuffling around like he was a stranger in a foreign country as he thought about where was best to leave his bag. that had been his life for the past three years; everything he had and knew lived in there while he was deep in the jungles of south america. 

much to his surprise, he came back unscarred, physically at least. of course, his knees had taken a hit during his - mission? - and the neck surgery he gotten gotten the year before hadn't helped much either. but aside from that, he would be fine, so long as the nightmares were kept at bay, no one would think any different of santiago. 

but you weren't just anyone. you had seen santiago in his most vulnerable states, in every sense of the phrase. there was almost nothing you didn't know about him, but now, there was a large part of him you were a stranger to. without even knowing a tiny part of what had happened, you knew the santiago who was currently in front of you, sweaty hands and shaking nerves, was a different man to the one who left you three years ago. 

three years. god, santiago had changed, as had you. you had never been with someone since. many people had tried to win your affection, attempting to entice you with the promise of dinner and a sense of forever, but you didn't want that anyone but him, a man who was on a completely different continent and who had probably had many others beside him in his bed since that one night. 

regardless of how he had acted out there, your love never faltered, unlike your hope for his return. the light inside of you which had been sparked by santiago’s promise of love had quickly diminished when you began to believe that he would never come home. 

but you wouldn't think any different of him. he just didn't know that. 

“can i-”

“i'm sorry for-” you both began, santiago seemingly wanting to smooth things out above anything else. “you go.”

“no, no, it’s okay. i just- do you wanna sit?” he nodded, watching your finger point towards your sofa in the open space. it was the one where that night began, but most definitely didn't end. you knew that. he knew that. but you weren't offering a seat in a malicious way, wanting to see him squirm and suffer while making him remember what happened that night, you could see that he was tired. it was the least you could do. 

so santiago took your offer, turning away from you in a vain attempt at calming himself down. that wouldn't happen until things were sorted, until he felt that you knew everything. he just wanted to say- 

“what happened?” you whispered into the quiet, turning on a small light to light up the room. it glowed over the sofa, settling around your bodies as you moved to sit down next to santiago, not completely ready for how long this could take. 

but he was. santiago knew everything that happened in those years and it would not take a few minutes to tell. there was too much to say and almost not enough time. 

the story began with his time colombia, working for the police as a private military advisor. next came lorea and santiago’s escapades with his informant in search for the drug lord. he explains the house - the safe - and the job, how he roped benny and tom and will and frankie into helping him with the job. 

he didn't even make it through the mountains - tom. 

and something about the night feels strangely familiar. with the two of you, sat there, being shielded from the world only by your thin curtains, it felt like home. familiarity. the thing that seemed to have left you three years ago and escaped to south america.

your bodies were pressed into each other’s sides, the feeling of just another person being there after so long brings about comfort in the both of you. a warm, calloused hand of his sat in the both of yours, a thumb gently rubbing over the back of his hand.

somehow, your eyes were trained to santiago’s head throughout his story, never leaving his body for a second in case you missed something, anything. as for him, his eyes never left your joined hands, watching the delicacy of your movements, concentrating his sight on something so small, but so significant to him.

it was silent for a few moments after he finished. santiago kept his head down, watching the comfort on his hands, whereas your eyes were darting over his entire body, taking him in, thinking how much you had missed him.

“i’m so sorry, santi.” your voice was quiet, like earlier, only just drifting from your mouth and into his ears. that’s when he moved, shaking his head before looking up at you, finally meeting your eyes for the second time in years.

“no, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have just up and left like that, especially after what happened the night before.” there was a small smile on your face at that reminder and you hadn’t even noticed the quiver in his voice.

“it’s okay,” one of your hands left his thigh, moving upwards to cup santiago’s cheek, the stubble a little longer than usual. “you’re here now, and everything will be okay.”

his eyes closed as you allowed yourself this time to look at him. there was exhaustion buried deep inside of his skin, the usual relaxed look that he held whenever he closed his eyes was gone. it seemed that only a shell of the man you used to know came back from south america.

but you knew he was there. you knew your santiago was there, underneath it all. that’s why you held him. and that’s why you’d continue to hold him for as long as he needed you to.

without much thinking, you leaned closer to him, pressing your lips against his for only a second. an innocent kiss, much different to the ones you two had shared before he left, but it meant more to you both than either of you could describe.

then, as delicate as ever, one of his hands reached up to join your own, his large palm completely covering the back of yours. “come on,” you whispered, your free hand moving to card through his unruly curls. “let’s get you to bed.”

a slight nod was your only answer, that and the lack of resistance he gave you your hands grabbing his and helping him up from the sofa. everything stayed where it landed, neither you nor santiago making any effort to grab his bag and pull it into your room.

it almost seemed domestic. almost. as you crawled back under your covers, santi stripped off his jacket, leaving him in just a dark t-shirt. his jeans followed, the metal of the buckles clashing together as he pulled them off. the hat was last, being placed gently on your chest of drawers before he made his way over to you.

like usual, you welcomed him, pulling back the covers just enough for him to slip under, shuffling his body closer to yours. as he laid on his back, you took the silent invitation to press into his side. just as any other time, your head rested on his chest, both of your arms wrapping around the other’s body.

santiago let out a deep breath, his chest rising and falling so slowly it felt like you let one out, too. maybe you did, but it wasn’t important with where you were and who you were with in that moment. he was finally home, back and safe in your arms and not in a godforsaken dark corner of the narcotics war.

you fell back asleep to the steady beat of his heart, his hands running up and down your skin as he tries to soothe himself to sleep. eventually he does, well after you, but he feels safe this time, being back in your arms doing wonders for his mind.

it felt as if it had only been a few moments, but it wasn’t long before you could feel the rise and fall of santiago’s chest again, but this time on your back. the warmth of his breath on the nape of your neck was calming, that and the warmth of his hand over your exposed skin.

“we should get up, honey.” he says delicately, his voice rough with sleep, dry sounding, and you can feel him behind you, his eyes just barely opening as he decides to start his day. you feel guilty that you wish he wasn't awake, even as he reaches closer, an arm tightening around your waist as the other slips between the pillows and your head, reaching out for your hand as your other lands on his forearm, affectionate, loving. 

there was no use in pretending you weren't awake, your need to touch him, to feel him and know he was there and not in some god forsaken place in colombia, too great to even attempt to stay in his arms longer. 

“we shouldn't.” you mutter, turning your head to press into his skin, soft, warm. your fingers danced across his bronzed skin, keeping your lips pressed against his bicep as you did so.

santiago was complacent behind you, not even bothering to attempt to stay true to his words as he reveled in you, your warmth, your love, the exact thing he had missed all these years. his breath was still warm on the back of your neck, his lips only ghosting over your skin. even after last night, after the sacred kisses and emotions you’d shared, this is what stumped him.

it was only a few minutes later when you twisted onto your back, your hand leaving santi’s as you shifted to face him instead of hiding away. the hand that had left his own cradled his exposed cheek, your thumb carressing the delicate skin.

the beautiful brown eyes you love were still hidden by sleep-ridden eyelids. the only indication that he was awake being the small smile that adorned his face as you continued your ministrations, your own eyes flittering over his features like he would disappear, again.

“are you still in love with me?” he asked, breaking the silence without even opening his eyes to look at you, “after everything i’ve done?” his voice was so quiet, so petrified of your response, especially when that gentle hand stopped moving. god, never stop holding him like that.

“i’ve always been in love with you, santiago,” you assured him, guiding your hand to the back of his head to pull him even closer to you, fingers tangling in his short curls, “i don’t think i can ever stop.”

“can i tell you the truth?” his eyes finally met yours, confidently shifting the hand on your hip around you to press flat against your back, bringing your chests closer, bringing you closer.

“please.” it was a whisper, a beg, your plea for him to tell you what you already knew.

“i’m still in love with you.”

-

if anyone wants to be tagged in my oscar writing, let me know!

taglist: @shes-over-bored @i-barely-go-on-online @sohoneyspreadyourwings @brian-maybe-not @deakysbabybooty @1001-yellow-daffodils @retromusicsalad @hardcoredisneynerd @painkiller80 @goldhoran @scarecrowmax @mebeatlized @seesiderendezvous @alright-mrfahrenheit @someone-get-a-medic @miamideacon @chlobo6 @teenagepeterpan @spacedustmazzello @deakysgurl @forever-rogue @xcdelilahxc @keepsdrawings @igotsuckedintothevoid @kill4hqueen @supersonicfreddie @laedymoon @inthedayswhenlandswerefew @warriorteam1924 @painandpleasure86 @boomerangbassist @mamaskillerqueen​ @bhxrdy

santiago taglist: @stardust-galaxies @kindablackenedsuperhero

people who i think may like: @damerondjarin @unstoppableforcce @starryeyedstories @sergeantkane @youvebeenlivingfictional @writefightandflightclub @anetteaneta

[gigglingknight]

Lee Brook is my bread and butter 👀 got any thoughts on him?

DO I????

• You would think, for just having bones, he wouldn’t feel anything at all, right?

• WRONG

• ribs are a very obvious choice and one of his worst spots, but if you run your finger down the length of his spine just right (assuming you can reach...), he goes INSANE

• stick your fingers between the bony toes. he’ll cry laughing (somehow)

• the phrase “tickle the ivories” makes him sweat nervously and he avoids it like the plague because it gives people ideas

• you KNOW you got him good when he can’t even “YOHOHOHOHOHO” properly anymore and he just cackles like crazy

• he flails like crazy. you NEED to hold him down. get somebody big like Franky

• he’s kinda feather-ticklish; light touches against his bones are very effective

• swears his ears are ticklish despite having no ears to speak of

• rumbar pirates tickle fights absolutely were a thing and he ALWAYS lost

• begs and PLEADS when you get his worst spots and bangs his fist on the floor

• will usually be too tired to retaliate, but watch out

• bonus cute: pre-skeleton Brook used to swim with Laboon and that whale baby LOVED nuzzling him and making him laugh