#reader x tom redfly davis

[toxicanonymity]

The Worst 

1.3k, Tom “Redfly” Davis x DARK f!Reader 

SUMMARY: You make Tom pay for Frankie's death.

WARNINGS: I8+ DARK FIC, DEAD DOVE noncon or very dubcon p in v, implied murder, roofie, forced gun sucking, restraints, degradation, praise kink?, Dom reader. Tom survives / Frankie dies AU.

Dedicated to @romanarose who is hosting a write a thon for the @triplefrontier-anniversary.

Happy 5 years to Tom ruining everything. He's the worst, but I'm sorry to say he's also packing.

-------------

You pretended to take comfort in him during your grief. Your flirtations over the past weeks had all been a ruse, as were your advances tonight. You always had one goal – to get Tom tied up in your basement.

Finally, you had him sitting at your kitchen table drinking a night cap. You rubbed his thigh and he looked at you like he wanted to eat you alive, if only he could muster the energy.  His eyelids were heavy with lust and a roofie.

“Maybe we could, uh, get more comfortable,” Tom slurred, nodding toward the living room. 

You downed the rest of your drink, set the glass down, and lowered yourself onto his lap, side saddle. 

“Ohh,” he muttered with his mouth barely open. “Hello.” 

“I was thinking we could go downstairs,” you purred. 

He swallowed, raised his eyebrows, and nodded, “Sure.” 

“Frankie ever tell ya ‘bout our hobbies? Lotta fun stuff down there.”

His face gave him away. “Uhh,” he stalled, “Sounds-” You ran your hand through his hair. “-Sounds good,” Tom muttered at a horny pitch. His eyes lingered on your lips, then he cleared his throat. 

“I'm gonna need ya to trust me though, Tom. Can ya do that?” 

Tom nodded. 

“Yes ma’am,” you whispered. 

“Yes ma’am,” he confirmed, clearly enjoying this. Your dominance was a perfect fit for his being a lazy sack of shit. 

“Good.”

—----------

In the basement–more of a sex dungeon, as it were–you sat Tom down in a metal chair. He let you tie him up and barely objected when you zip tied his hands behind his back. 

“Mmm,” he hummed as you did it. 

“Good boy,” you told him, making him blush. His eyes lazily danced across your face in bemusement.  “Now I'm gonna go change,”  you said. 

-

You returned in a black lingerie set – a lacy top over a strappy, crotchless bottom. You had tucked Frankie’s old pistol into the back of the bottom piece. The cool metal made your skin tighten with goosebumps all over. 

You slowly approached Tom and watched his eyes consume you. Without sitting down, you straddled him so you were standing with your tits in his face. You let him play. He nuzzled his head into your breasts, then nosed at a nipple. 

“Fuck me,” he whispered, then took one into his mouth, through the lace. 

“God, you worthless shit,” you laughed with faux affection. 

“Heh,” Tom chuckled sadly against your tit.

He didn’t notice you reach for the gun. You used the barrel to massage yourself through your underwear. He glanced down, then his eyes snapped back up to you. “Whoa, careful with that,” he laughed nervously with the barrel pointing right at his dick as you slid the cool metal against the lace covering your mound. 

“This is Frankie’s,” you said wistfully and raised the gun to admire it. You used the barrel to nudge his chin so he looked at you. He froze. “You’re gonna suck Frankie’s dick now,” you nodded and slid the barrel up his jaw, then nudged his lips with the muzzle. 

His breathing was heavier and faster. His eyes were less sleepy. 

He maneuvered to dodge the barrel. “Listen, sweetie,” he started. “Are you okay? Maybe we’ll just  — maybe. . .  watch a movie tonight,” his voice trailed off as your face made it clear you were not fucking around. 

“Open.” You grabbed his jaw. “It’s the least you can do, Tom.” 

Tom swallowed. “Okay,” he whispered. “You’re right.” He let the muzzle into his mouth. 

“Good,” you whispered. “Go on.”

You pushed the barrel further into his mouth. “Suck it, Tom. Suck Frankie’s cock.” 

His face whitened as he began to hesitantly bob his head. 

“If it weren’t for you, I’d be sucking Frankie’s real cock right now,” you reminded him and watched dread fall over his face. He hardly moved at all. 

“You can do better than that.” You pushed the gun further into his mouth and his teeth hit the metal. “Good,” you whispered as he took as much of the pistol as he could. You held the back of his head and fucked his mouth with the gun. He looked up at you pleadingly and whined incoherently. You mercifully let the barrel out of his mouth, a string of drool falling down his chin. 

“Look,” his face was serious and his tone was more sober. “I know you’re devastated. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. We can–” 

“Shut up.” You crossed your wrists behind his head and lowered yourself onto his lap. Your most sensitive area met his semi-hard bulge and you let out a moan. 

“Oh, Tom,” you sighed, impressed. 

As it turned out, there was one area where Tom didn't fall short, and your body wouldn't let you ignore it.  “Fuck,” you whispered as he hardened beneath you. You were throbbing against him. The adrenaline already had your blood flowing, and now it was flowing south. His cock twitched against you. His breath was shallow.

He watched your face carefully. He was as quiet and still as a mouse. 

“Got him killed, and now you wanna fuck his girl, don’t ya?”

Tom nodded hesitantly. 

You scoffed. “With friends like you,” you started. “Pathetic.”  A subtle lift of his hips took all your thoughts away as his warm, hard package rubbed against your front. You had never hate fucked someone before. . . With the gun still behind his head, you nudged the nape of his neck with the muzzle and he flinched. “You’re not gonna say a word,” you warned. Then you reached down between you and feverishly unbuttoned his cargo pants. 

You reached into his boxers and gasped at the smooth heat of his naked girth against your palm. “Jesus,” you whispered as you took it out. A hint of cockiness tugged at the corner of his mouth before he appeared to remember his imminent doom.

With your gun hand, you braced yourself using the back of his neck for leverage. You took your thong to the side, then spit on  your hand and wiped it on his dick. God how you hated this man. You lined yourself up, then sank down with a rush of pleasure to your chest as your cunt slowly swallowed his thick length. You closed your eyes and thought of Frankie as you began to roll your hips. Your heart was racing. 

He moaned nearly silently as you fucked yourself on his massive cock. You got wetter and wetter. You could feel Frankie’s presence. You could practically smell his scent wafting off of Tom. You could feel the ghost of Frankie’s hands on your ass and practically hear his whispers in your ear. Should’ve ridden his face, he said in your head and you breathed out a laugh as you rode him.

You let out a sigh and Tom shuddered. You imagined Frankie’s brown eyes looking deep into yours, and your walls twitched around Tom’s cock. You whimpered as you came. 

“Fuck,” Tom murmured through gritted teeth as you choked his cock.Then he erupted inside you. You groaned as his warm spend flooded your core. 

-

When you were finished, you sat there on his cock and you both read each other’s faces. He knew his time was up. You took the safety off the gun. 

“What a way to go,” Tom muttered in resignation. He winced as you squeezed him with an aftershock.

“You took him from me, Tom.” 

“I know, honey,” he agreed. “It’s okay. Kid's better off with the life insurance.” 

The next few seconds felt like minutes. Your heart raced and you could see Tom’s heartbeat in his neck. 

Tom took a deep breath. “Just put it in my mouth.” He nodded. “And pull the trigger,” he whispered. 

His gaze was apologetic as the muzzle once again nudged his lips. He closed his eyes with his softening cock still sheathed in your warmth.  You didn’t feel a thing as the hammer clicked under your thumb.

-----

-----

Thank you for reading!

my main masterlist

[campingwiththecharmings]

okay so, i'm hella behind on reading, and for some reason it's so fucking hard for me to find time/energy to read much these days, but i still want to highlight at least some of the fics i've been able to read so, i'll be doing fic recs quarterly this year instead of monthly. hope y'all enjoy 🪷💜

**please be sure to read any/all warnings attached to recommended fics prior to reading**

🔥 - explicit/mature content

PART ONE (bc tumblr is being a bitch and won't let me post all of them in one post)

Star Wars

Seeds of Love (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @moonlight-prose

🔥Best Ride in the Galaxy (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @lotusbxtch

size doesn't matter (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @hoedamn-eron

🔥Come Back to Me (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @reallyrallyauthor

Ex Machina

🔥In Plain Sight (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

Assembly Required (Nathan Bateman x Reader) - @reallyrallyauthor

Skittish (Nathan Bateman x Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Again (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

Triple Frontier

🔥Room's on Fire (Dark!TF Boys x F!Reader) - @romana-after-dark

I'll be the silence ringing through and through and through (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

Personal Issue (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥The Worst (Tom "Redfly" Davis x Dark!Reader) - @toxicanonymity

The Dead Horse (Santiago Garcia x Black!F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Tag-Teaming (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader x Frankie Morales) - @fettuccin-e

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

🔥The Sweetest Fruit in the Garden (Miguel O'Hara x Older!F!Reader) - @missdictatorme

🔥Through the Window (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

Sucker Punch

🔥Good Boy Blue (Club!Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @reallyrallyauthor

🔥Just Be Good (Orderly!Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥Private Dances (Club!Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Inside Llewyn Davis

again (llewyn davis x reader) - @eyelessfaces

don't let go (llewyn davis x reader) - @runa-falls

keys (llewyn davis x reader) - @eyelessfaces

Misc

🔥my ex's tapes (Ex!Basil Stit x F!Reader x FWB!Jake Lockley) - @runa-falls

🔥Sweet Like (Modern!Leto Atreides x F!Reader) - @reallyrallyauthor

Thank you to all the wonderful writers for sharing their stories with us 🥰❤️

*For more recs, please feel free to check out my fic rec tag.

**If you’d like to have your fic removed, please just let me know.

[FIC RECS PART TWO]

[playbucky]

Couple

Prompt 18 Redfly - “We should do a couples costume” “we’re not a couple though" 

‘We should do a couples costume.’ You told Tom as you sat across from him at the dining room table. ‘We’re not a couple though.’ He told you, you nodded but shrugged your shoulders, you were close friends you didn’t see a problem about it. ‘True, but who’s gonna play superman if I’m Louis?’ You asked him, he looked at you through the glasses he was wearing. ‘What?’ He asked confused. ‘Come on, I mean all you need is a superman top, which you probably have and I know you have a white shirt and black pants.’ You said as you pointed at the clothes he was wearing just now. ‘I don’t have a superman top, I have a batman one.’ He told you, you frowned slightly. ‘Well buy a superman top then?’ You said, it wasn’t a big deal but he shook his head as he placed the pen down. ‘Can’t I just go as Batman?’ He asked you, you shook your head. ‘Batman doesn’t go with Louis.’ You told him, he sighed and rubbed the inside of his eyes. ‘What’s Tess going as?’ He asked, you gave him a tight-lipped smile. ‘Something that you would tell her to return if you saw it.’ You told him. ‘Y/N, you were meant to watch over her.’ He told you, you raised a hand. ‘Chill, relax, it’s suitable but your over-protective side would come out.’ You explained to him and his brows dipped. ‘What is she going as?’ He asked you. ‘Tinkerbell.’ You told him, you watched as he relaxed slightly. ‘See told you it wasn’t that bad, so are we doing a couple costume?’ You asked him.

[wardenparker]

The Alewife Masterlist

Co-written with @absurdthirst!

A Triple Frontier Soulmate AU! Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x female reader

In a world where every soul has a perfect mate, Frankie Morales has seen no evidence that his even exists. Soulmates gain each other’s permanent body markings - scar and tattoos - and while all of Frankie’s ink and battle wounds have transferred over to his soulmate’s skin, he’s never found a single mark on his body that he didn’t make himself. Until now.

Explicit chapters marked with **

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4**

Chapter 5**

Chapter 6

Chapter 7**

Chapter 8

Chapter 9**

Chapter 10

Chapter 11**

Chapter 12**

Chapter 13**

Chapter 14**

Epilogue

(moodboard by @frankiemorales​!)

Find my full Masterlist HERE!

[weasleywinchester]

WeasleyWinchester Fic Master List

Hey Fam, I'm tired of having to look for my stuff so I can link chapters to each other so here's a master list

And small overview of my writing: I tend to write long chapters, a good deal of smut and fluff, with the occasional angst because I apparently like to make myself suffer (and I can’t do that alone, so you suffer too). Also 99.9% of my stuff is Female, Plus Size reader insert. If it’s anything else I mention in at the beginning of each story :) (Loki and Sully so far is the only gender neutral ones I have)

*most of these will have multiple chapters that I’m still working on! (I've highlighted them in blue) If you want to be tagged in anything let me know 💙

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

Save Yourself (currently written 19/25)

He Didn’t Dump Me (featuring Crowley)

Sam Winchester

Lock the Damn Door!

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

The Way You Look Tonight Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Baron Helmut Zemo

The Way You Look Tonight Part 2

Loki

Can I keep Him?

Steven Grant/ Marc Spector

Any Way You Want It

Triple Frontier

Franki

You & Me - Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 Where the Rivers Meet

Santi

How Did You Know My Ass Would Need Saving?

Tom

Unless I'm Allowed Dessert

Star Wars

Din Dijarin

A Different Kind of Bounty (smut)

Strangers - Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3

Ladies, Please (feat. Fennec & Boba)

Cassian Andor

It's A Low Number

Hot Blood (love is gunna get ya) - sex pollen

Poe Dameron

Don’t Tell Anyone! Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

The Last Of Us

Joel Miller

I Can’t Help Myself - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Malicious Mean and Scary? - smut

Top Gun

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Slow Motion - Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch.4 | Ch.5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9

I Ain't Worried - Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3

Robert "BOB" Floyd

I Ain't Worried - Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

I Ain't Worried - Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3

Stranger Things

Eddie Munson

Highway to Hell(fire) - Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5

Sherlock

Greg Lestrade

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2

We Can Be Hero's

Marcus Moreno

Not A Shrine

Winx

Saul Silva

Begin Again - Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3

Uncharted

Sully

I Got You Baby

[thirsty-flygirl]

But, I mean, what if I wrote a Tom fic?

[tobealostwanderer]

Fight Night

Frankie x GN!Reader

Your best friend promises her brother's friend to fight him in the ring. You go to cheer her on, worried for her safety, but leave with forever friends and a crush

"Are you shure you wanna do this though? You never did matches before.. You can get seriously hurt" the nervousness in your voice was unmistakable but that didn't stop your asshole friend of laughing at you. "Love, I need to teach these men a lesson" she said with a tone of mischief. "And you will get laid. Which will be payment enough for me. Because gosh you are tense. Anyways when will you be here?"

"I'm getting in my car now. I will get there in 15 ish minutes" you answered her. You gave your normal goodbyes before you hang up and threw your phone on the passenger side with a sigh.

Maddie, your best friend, was a boxer and could absolutely kick ass. Her brother, Jack, kept pestering her how she should take her skills to a proper ring and knock some guys out but she always said no. Until a few weeks ago. When she met one of Jack's friends and he dared her to fight him in the ring. And being a hotheaded person, she took up that deal without thinking. And now it's Friday, just after work, and you were on your way to support her with Jack.

The relatively short ride was spend singing along to some Fleetwood Mac songs. Your old car only played CDs and so your dash was full with them. And as you drove up to the ring, belting along with The Chain, you spotted Maddie and Jack's cars and managed to park close by them. Turning down your car, you send a quick prayer to whoever God was listening to keep your friend in one piece, grabbed your phone and went in.

The place was packed. People were screaming, making bets, watching the two persons go at it on the elevated ring. The place smelled like sweat, cheap beer and blood. It made you a bit uneasy, especially being surrounded by mostly men, so you set off to find Jack as quick as possible. Which was hard, with only the spotlights on the ring being a source of light, the rest of the room being dimmed by some wall lamps, faces were hard to see.

In fact, Jack saw you before you saw him. Suddendly he was in front of you, grinning. "C'mon! I saved us a seat next to my friend's friends. They are pretty cool" he yelled over the noise. He grabbed your arm and dragged you to a bench with four men. All were holding a beer and all were reacting differently to the fight.

The first one, a slim, tan guy with black hair was totally invested. He kept yelling and cheering when the guy he was rooting for managed to hit his opponent. He looked slightly drunk, but he wasn't being annoying as of yet.

Next to him was a taller and broader guy. He sat there, seemingly unamused. Probably waiting for his friend to get in the ring. He didn't look too approachable.

The third guy was like the first one but a bit more toned down. He cheered every once in a while but wasn't as hyper like the first guy. He had blonde hair and a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

And the last one... Didn't look like he belonged at all. He was silent, although not in a threatening way like guy nr. 2. He didn't seem uncomfortable, just seemed like he didn't want to be in such a rowdy and busy place. You couldn't blame him.

"Guys" Jack called, making them all look away from the ring and to the two of you. "This is my sister's friend" he introduced you. "And these are Santiago, Tom, Will and Frankie. They are Benny's friends, but Will is his brother." Jack explained. You nodded and smiled at the bunch.

After a beat of uncomfortable silence between the group and you, you decided to sit down next to the silent one, Frankie, and you smiled kindly at him. "What is someone like you doing in a place like this?" He asked, a bit awkwardly. Is he trying to flirt? You thought. No.. can't be.

"Gotta make shure that my best friend isn't torn to shreds. I have faith in her but you never know" you said with a grin. "If she loses, however, I might need to kick her ass. For doing this. Because sometimes she barerly has any braincells" to that Frankie laughed and his eyes shone a bit more than the dull brown they were when you first quietly observed him.

Conversion with Frankie after that came surprisingly easy. Especially since you weren't much of a talker. It was a great distraction from the two guys that were beating eachother to bloody pulp no more than 5 meters away from you. Frankie was kind and made bad jokes to which you laughed. You learned that he was currently a car mechanic but classifies himself as an "all in one handyman", meaning he could basically do anything according to him.

You in turn told him about working at the local library as their barista for their in-shop coffee nook. It was the easiest and calmest job you ever had, since most people that came to a library were already calm people so you didn't have to deal with a lot of "entitled bitches". Again Frankie laughed, but before he could say anything the new fight was announced and it was Maddie against Benny.

You turned to the ring, seeing your friend standing there tall and proud. A lot of guys wolf whistled at her as she got ready. Opposite of her was Will's brother, Benny, and they truely were look alike. Or it might be their equally blonde hair. He had a big smile on his face, like he couldn't wait to fight her.

After a few minutes of preparation, the bell went and the two went ham on eachother. You had to give it to them both, they were strong and fast. Equally matched. From your right you heard Santiago call "I am betting 20 bucks on our Ben". To which you almost immediately replied "I am betting 40 on Maddie". He looked at you in shock, and as your eyes turned up to Frankie, you saw him looking in shock as well.

Before Frankie could protest though, Santi had jumped forward and shook your hand. Yelling a loud "Deal" before returning to his seat and starting to cheer for the younger Miller.

Frankie held your gaze, at first he looked like he wanted to say something, but then he shook his head and just smiled "Tell you what" he said "If Ben wins, I get you a drink. If he loses, you get me a drink. Deal?" To that you grinned and shook his hand "Deal."

The fight took a while, because the two were well matched, until Benny got a few good hits in and it didn't look well for Maddie. You heard Santiago cheer and chant "Go Benny Go!" With Will. Maddie however came back with more fire than before and managed to hit Benny in a few weak spots and within a minute, he was groaning on the floor and called out.

You and Jack cheered and Maddie locked eyes with the two of you and grinned. She then helped Benny up and clapped him on the back as they both went back to the dressing rooms. "I think you owe me money!" You yelled at Santiago and he grouchy pressed a 20 in your hand. With that in hand you went to the bar to get two beers for you and Frankie.

This was just one night in many to come. You came in with only worry for your best friend, and left with forever best friends and a crush on a certain curly haired, hat wearing man. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

[feelyourhearttakingroot]

The Reader's Guide to Avoiding Redfly (and how to have a good time doing it)

“How’re you doing, kid?” Tom murmured in your ear. Your skin hadn’t started crawling yet, but it definitely would soon.

“Redfly, leave the girl alone.” 

A third voice - the voice of God himself, if it meant that Tom would let you go. 

Summary: Your friend Dina is dating Benny Miller, and drags you along to one of his fights before a night at a bar. His friends meet you there - Tom ‘Redfly’ Davis, who is too busy trying it on with you to think about his wife; Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia, who is a god made flesh; and Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales, who agrees to help keep you out of Redfly’s clutches. But Frankie is not without his own charm...

Relationships: Frankie Morales x reader, side Santiago Garcia x Original Female Character, side Benny Miller x Original Female Character

Rating: First chapter is Mature, but it will be getting Explicit after that... 

Author’s note: I saw Triple Frontier last week for the first time and it has occupied my every waking thought since then. This is my first ‘x reader’ fic, so feedback is appreciated. Benny is my darling boy and I want to write him a loving af relationship even if it’s in the bg of this fic. I also don’t mean to step on toes but Redfly is the worst man and deserved to die a lot earlier than he did in the film. I am also obviously obsessed with Frankie Morales. Sorry if the formatting is fucked, this is the first fic I’ve posted directly to Tumblr in many’a.

Warnings: 18+ for frequent language, she/her pronouns, future smut but this chapter is just teasing.

Read on AO3.

Chapter One

The Fight

“The fight ends at 9pm, so we’ll be good to get to the bar by 9.30,” Dina said, leaning to within a hair's breadth of the bathroom mirror. Your arms twitched, hands opening and closing as you watched the safety pin come even closer to her eyeball.

“Dina, do you have to- the fight?”

“Yes, I need to separate my eyelashes, and yes, the fight.” She said, tongue peeping out between her lips. “Benny is fighting and he’s going to come with us to the bar afterwards.”

Your heart sank, just a little. Benny was a great guy, and you were happy for Dina, but it was always harder to get into bars when Benny ‘Brick Shithouse’ Miller rocked up with facial wounds and an ego after inevitably winning the fight. 

Apparently their post-fight sex was insane.

“So it’s you, me, and Benny?” you asked flatly, and she rolled her eyes in a way that made your hands clench into fists, with a vivid mental image of the pin sinking into her eyeball. She ignored you, of course, and started on the bottom lid.

“No, you prick,” she said, teasing each lash apart. She paused, and winked at you through the mirror “Ha. Prick! Get it? Sandy, Amy and Kelly are joining us - and Benny is bringing his friends.”

“William and Tom?” You were trying so hard not to be a downer, you really were, but you’d met William and Tom before and it was not a great experience. William - Benny’s brother - was aesthetically pleasing, and a lovely guy, but way too earnest about the purity of combat, while Tom was… a douche. A douche who clearly enjoyed his nights away from the wife a little too much. “Great.”

“Not just Will and Tom,” she chided, finally putting down the pin and fluttering her eyelashes at her reflection. “A few of his old squad guys are coming too.”

“OK then,” you said, and turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” Dina called.

“To get another drink.”

Based on the MMA prelude, you decided to rethink your outfit to something a bit less… showy, and had poured yourself into a skintight skirt with a shirt that helped accentuate your decolletage just right. So right, in fact, that you’d forgone a sensible coat in favour of a leather jacket that didn’t even close properly. The clothes did little to shield you from the cold, which explained why you had chugged nearly half a bottle of Smirnoff in the cab over. 

-----------------

Dina looked every inch the fighter’s girlfriend, she really did. You didn’t even know she owned a faux-fur coat. Her meticulously-separated eyelashes were currently fluttered together, shielding her eyes from her cigarette smoke. 

Not that it helped. Your buzz was fading fast with every second you stood out in the freezing cold parking lot.

Sandy hadn’t bothered to change her outfit - “Fuck it, it can’t be any dirtier than the bar.” - and was leaning against the arena wall wearing a mini dress that practically showed what she had eaten for breakfast. The woman had legs up to her neck, and more than one man had slowed his passage into the arena to get a good look. Sandy, with legs that long since she was fifteen, and a face that had been beautiful her whole life, flipped each one off with a casual laziness you could never hope to emulate. 

The three of you were standing outside the arena waiting for Tom and the others to arrive. The crowd was known to get rowdy, and Benny had been very firm with Dina about going in with his friends. William was already inside with Benny, prepping him for the fight.

It was so cold you were nearly tempted to ask Dina for a pull of her cigarette, just to feel some warm air, when -

“Dee!”

Your face locked into a grimace, and you looked down to kick a loose pebble from under your shoe, trying to regain control of your facial muscles by the time Tom got close.

“Tommy!” Dina yelled. “You’re late, what the hell?”

“Don’t blame me,” Tom said, “Blame these assholes.”

Two sets of denim-wrapped legs stepped into your view, and you huffed out a little sigh before looking up. Tom was standing in front of you, with his friend on his right. 

His friend. Who was the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen. He smiled at you, and you felt a small laugh escape you. 

What was that face? He looked like a Latino George Clooney. How did he get taken seriously in life?

“Hey, tiger,” Tom said to you, his lopsided smile showing a little too much teeth on one side.

“Hey… Tom.” you replied, raising a hand in greeting. He made a little ‘pfft’ sound and pulled you in for a hug, enveloping you in the smell of… dear god, was that Axe? 

You heard the crunch of gravel, and a movement out of the corner of your eye told you that the devilishly handsome man was currently introducing himself to Sandy. 

Probably wouldn’t have worked out with us anyway.

“How’re you doing, kid?” Tom murmured in your ear. Your skin hadn’t started crawling yet, but it definitely would soon.

“Redfly, leave the girl alone.” 

A third voice - the voice of God himself, if it meant that Tom would let you go. 

“This is my girl right here, Frankie.” Tom said, and the proprietary tone in his voice made your stomach turn. You should have just met them at the bar.

“Crazy, I thought your girl was sitting at home looking after your daughter and -” the second half of the sentence was in mumbled Spanish, and you heard a bark of laughter from the handsome man. A quick, rough pat on the back and Tom released you, already walking into the building as if nothing had happened.

The speaker was standing in front of you; a tall-ish man wearing a blue plaid shirt over a grey tank top, with a beat-up baseball cap on his head. Just as the phrase ‘hillbilly trucker’ crossed your mind, every thought in your head promptly vanished on looking up into his face. A pair of warm brown eyes were gazing down at you, creasing gently at the corners. He wasn’t built like Tom or William; they slanted more towards beefcake, where this guy was toned and slim. He was older than you - not a surprise, William and Tom were in at least their mid-40s - but it was a very manageable older. Unruly, curling brown hair peeked out from under his cap, and the man smiled, a shadow of a dimple appearing on his cheek.

The other guy was crazy good-looking in a movie-star way, the sort of hot that had made you laugh because it was almost unreal. This guy was the perfect side of handsome, mortal enough to take your breath away just a little and not make you feel stupid about it.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m Frankie.”

Maybe it was the dimples, maybe it was the fact that he had just saved you from a fate worse than death, or maybe the cold had finally gotten to your brain. Whatever it was, you barely knew what you were saying until you’d said it:

“And I am so fucking yours.”

So much for not feeling stupid. His smile widened, and your heartbeat quickened just a bit.

“Ignore Redfly,” he said. “He just doesn’t have good manners.”

Another burst of Spanish from behind you, from the dark-eyed Adonis near the door, and Frankie replied in kind, with an evocative hand gesture that you were pretty sure meant ‘fuck off’.

You finally turned to get a good look at the other man. He was standing in front of your friends, angled towards Sandy in a way that boded well for her. He was terribly good-looking.

“Hey, how’re you doing?” he leaned toward you, and took your hand in his. “Santiago Garcia.”

The man was on another level. You felt like you were meeting a politician. You told him your name as if in a dream. 

“That’s a beautiful name,” he said, looking into your soul, and you felt that laugh bubble up again. This was too much all at once.

Dina blew out one last plume of smoke, and threw her cigarette butt on the ground.

“Come on guys, it’s fucking freezing out here.”

----------------------------------------

The arena was chaos. Tom was nowhere to be seen, but he could have been standing two feet from you and you wouldn’t have seen him. He could have been behind you.

As the thought crossed your mind, a hand came to rest on your hip and you jumped sideways, ready to kick Tom in the fucki-

It was Frankie, hands suddenly up and visible, mouth framing a ‘whoa’ that you could never hear over the din of the crowd. You grimaced, mouthing sorry.

He gave you a tight-lipped smile, uncomfortable, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He craned his neck to look over the crowd, toward the ring, and you stepped quickly toward him. Your hand raised, like you had the right answer in a classroom, and you tilted your mouth up towards Frankie’s ear. He scrunched his face and bent his head towards yours.

“Sorry,” you said into his ear, trying not to deafen him at this range. He smelled warm, and clean, a welcome respite from the arena’s smell of old beer and sweat. “I thought it might be…” one of your best friends, whom I loathe. “... a creep.” you finished lamely.

When you pulled away, he was looking at you so intently that a blush started to creep up your neck. Hands still in his pockets, he rocked back and forth on his heels as he processed what you said. His tongue worked in his mouth, pushing out his cheek, before he winked ever so slightly, and nodded.

He knew. He damn well knew.

Frankie grinned and pointed towards the ring, to where your friends had disappeared, before nudging you forward.

------------------------------------

Dina and the others were sitting ringside, by Benny’s corner. Dina had shrugged her coat in the sticky closeness of the arena, and was adjusting her top for maximum cleavage. Beside her was Sandy, deep in conversation with Santiago, and Tom sat beside Santiago next to an empty chair.

The single empty chair. 

Fucks sake.

Tom saw you both coming, and had a look of fake disappointment on his face that your hands twitched to slap off. He held his hands up in defeat, before patting his thigh. A quick scan showed that this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in the arena; the place was jammed so tightly that you counted at least seven people on laps in this section alone. A fire hazard, and a pain in the ass. 

You’re fucking kidding me.

You went to take a step, and felt a hand grip your arm. Frankie was sliding past you on your right, pivoting to sit in the empty chair. A shit-eating grin slid onto Tom’s face, and he patted his thigh again.

You’re fucking kidding me. 

Frankie still held your arm loosely in his left hand. Reaching over Tom, he nudged Santiago, who broke off from his conversation long enough to pass him a beer. Settling back into his seat, Frankie spread his legs a little too wide and steered you into the space between them. 

He looked up at you under the brim of his cap, his face out of Tom’s eyeline. The corners of his mouth curved downward and one shoulder shrugged, as if to say ‘Why not?’.

Lightheaded, floating on a mental chant of fucking hell fucking hell fucking hell fucking hell, you perched on Frankie’s knee, your knees pressing against his other leg. A quick glance at Tom’s face nearly made you yelp. The ham-coloured man was staring sullenly out over the ring, lips pursed around his mouthful of beer. The smile was nowhere to be seen.

Frankie shifted slightly, and with one hand on your waist pulled you closer until you were sitting mid-thigh. When he was satisfied, his hand moved to settle against your lower back, keeping you upright. The shape of the seat had his body angled away from you, allowing you to sit upright without being nestled against him. He leaned towards Tom and said something in his ear, something you could barely hear over the din. It was as if he’d forgotten you were there.

But not quite. Slowly, as if you were a wild animal he was trying to tame, his hand started to move in gradual, broad strokes, forward and back, forward and back.

Your stomach muscles locking tight was your only visible reaction, and you thanked baby Jesus and all the angels in heaven that Frankie couldn’t feel the way your pulse had suddenly picked up. Though that might not be far off; there was a warm throbbing between your legs that definitely hadn’t been there two minutes ago.

Forward and back. Forward and back.

This was totally normal. This happened to you every day. Every day you met hot guys and sat on their laps. Every day you got mildly turned on by hot guys stroking your back.

Looking over at Dina, the two of you locked eyes. Her grin was positively wolfish.

Fuck off, you mouthed.

You looked around, hoping that the people-watching fodder available would help take your mind off the hot man you were sitting on and what his hand was - 

As if Frankie could hear your thoughts, the rhythm of his strokes changed. Now, instead of moving forward and back, his palm started sliding up and down, with every pass downward bringing his hand closer and closer to the curve of your ass.

For a fraction of a second, your breath caught in your throat, and the pulse between your legs kicked up a notch. Trying to keep your cool, you casually - so casually! - looked over at Frankie.

Still absorbed in conversation with Tom. Fine. He clearly had no idea what he was doing, no idea of the effect he was having.

Your awareness was steadily narrowing down to where his hand touched you, to the vague sensation of warmth that each pass left on your skin. Reaching the hem of your jacket, he paused almost imperceptibly, before reaching under the leather to rest on the back of your shirt.

Dear god, were you disappointed he wasn’t touching your ass? Were you actually sad that this stranger wasn’t - 

A radiating sensation on your back, so warm and firm, and suddenly you could feel every little movement his hand made, the way his fingers were flexing against your skin so gently - 

Air you didn’t realise you had been holding escaped your lungs in a whoosh. 

“Getting bored up there, tiger?” Tom’s expression wasn’t as friendly as it normally was, and you were reminded why all of this was happening. This was purely for Tom’s benefit. 

“No, it’s fine. It’s…” you looked down at Frankie as he took a sip of his beer. His eyes met yours over the rim of his beer cup, and a smile crept across your face. When the cup left his lips, you took it deftly from his fingers and lifted it to your mouth. Your gaze didn’t leave his. Tom may as well have been part of the furniture.

The beer was not good, but you finished it, and ran your tongue over your lips. Frankie’s eyes tracked the movement, and you felt his hand pause, felt his fingers splay wide across the small of your back.

“It’s great,” you said, winking down at him. “But I think we need another drink.”

You placed a hand on his knee for leverage, and stood. Dina saluted you with her nearly-empty drink, and tapped at the low liquid level with one long fingernail. You nodded, and flashed the OK sign.

A broad chest blocked your view, and the smell of Axe surrounded you. You glanced up at Tom, who was shaking his own empty cup. 

“I’ll come too,” he said. “I could do with another-”

“It’s cool, man,” Frankie stood, easily slotting himself between the two of you, and gently but firmly took hold of your shoulders as he turned to the exit. “I got it.”

Empty cups and debris were strewn across the aisle, and you were beginning to regret wearing your heels for what was shaping up to be a fucking obstacle course. But you felt Frankie’s presence behind you, and if you put a little more sway into your walk than normal, so what?

Between a few stragglers at the bar, there was a gap just wide enough for the two of you to lean against the counter. You rested on your forearms, and flagged down the bartender.

------------------------------------

“Two beers, and a whiskey and coke.” 

“Make it four,” Frankie said. “I know it may not seem like it, but it is better to get Redfly liquored up. After about,” - his hand made a see-saw motion - “six drinks? He’s going to get real maudlin, start missing his wife, and go home.”

“Oh, yeah,” you replied, “He’s really missing his wife when he’s trying to put his hand up my skirt.”

His eyes flickered up and down your body, and he cleared his throat. One hand came up to scratch at his moustache, before smoothing it back down. 

“You know, I don’t blame him,” he said. “That skirt looks great on you.”

A low warmth pooled in your stomach, and you smiled. He smiled back, those beautiful eyes twinkling as he turned around to face the arena, elbows back on the bar.

“If I… go too far, in there,” he said, face suddenly serious. “You can just punch me in the face. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

The bartender laid your whiskey and coke down in front of you, and pulled out two cups for the beer. 

“Two more of those, please,” you told her, and took a sip of your drink. You knew you were a bit of a savage for drinking whiskey with coke, but your sweet tooth demanded nothing less. “Frankie, I’m not really OK with the idea of ‘being saved’.”

“That’s fair,” Frankie turned to the bar, and rapped a quick tattoo on the wood. “When we get back in there, you take the seat and I’ll -”

“But,” you raised a finger. “Your lap is pretty comfortable. And if you’re OK with having my ass on your knee all night, then I’m happy to stay there.”

A laugh escaped him, and you found yourself appreciating the way his moustache framed his lips so perfectly. 

“I think you’d be hard pushed to find a man who wouldn’t be OK with that deal.”

The bartender laid down four cups of beer. “$25.60.” 

Frankie laid out three $10 bills, and pulled the cups closer. 

“Do you think you could make sure Tom doesn’t put his hand up my skirt?”

He was intent on arranging the cups in a way he could carry them, to the point that you thought he hadn’t heard you. Just as you were about to repeat yourself, he flashed you a wicked look.

“Well sweetheart,” he smiled, “I’ll just have to get my hand there first.”

------------------------------------

As soon as you sat back down, it was like a switch had flipped. Your conversation at the bar had been light, to the point where you’d nearly forgotten that you’d actually been turned on a little at sitting on Frankie’s lap.

When you got back to your seats, and Frankie had handed off the beers he was carrying, he sat and pulled you down onto his lap in one fluid movement. No more tentative movements; he held your waist firmly, and pulled you even closer than before. And now, not only was his hand stroking your back again - he had put it under your jacket straight away - but his other arm was now resting on your leg. His beer cup sat on your knee, below where the hem of your skirt rode up, and he rotated it gently on your bare skin, almost teasing you with the cool feeling of the condensation on the base.

It drove you just a little short of wild. Though part of you wanted to shift against his thigh, wanted to feel some pressure right where an ache was steadily building between your legs, you kept it together fairly admirably. 

A wet patch on Frankies jeans probably wouldn't go down too well anyway.

A murmur from the crowd rolled towards the ring, and Pantera’s heavy guitar riff blasted through the speakers.

Benny was here.

------------------------------------

Ringside seats were… certainly something.

The smell of blood hummed in your nostrils, and you felt the impact of every punch. 

Benny was a monster. He had swaggered into the arena, head and shoulders above everyone, and proceeded to hammer the shit out of his opponent once the bell rang. Watching the way Dina was looking at him, you were very, very glad they were going back to Benny’s place tonight.

The six of you were standing at the ring edge, screaming and roaring with the crowd. Your blood was singing. Sitting on Frankie’s lap, his hands leaving trails of fire wherever they touched you, had rattled you something fierce, and the adrenaline from the fight was getting to you too. You didn’t think your pulse had slowed for about ten minutes, and you were breathing like you were climbing a mountain.

It was the last minute of the last round, and Benny was flagging. 

You guessed. You really had no idea who was doing better, both fighters were covered in blood and looked tired as fuck.

Santiago, Dina and Tom were rattling the cage, howling through the wire at Benny. The man was intent on his opponent, never taking his eyes off him. 

As you watched, Benny did an odd movement, stepping back, rotating his shoulders and head as his feet danced. You heard roars come from your friends, but were completely lost. 

“He’s about to kick the guy’s head off his fucking shoulders,” Frankie’s voice was low, and close. You felt his nose brush the outer shell of his ear, and you suppressed a shiver as his breath ghosted over you. He was standing behind you, so close that you felt his warmth up your body from ankle to neck. He reached over your shoulder, and pointed up at Benny’s right foot.

“You see that?” 

Benny’s foot was moving in a fan shape on the floor of the ring. He dodged as much as he needed to to evade blows, but whenever he was still his foot moved in that fan shape. 

“Why is he waiting?” Turning your head, your nose brushed against Frankie’s jawline. He smiled down at you.

“Not long now, sweetheart,” he said. “Watch.”

He stepped closer until he stood flush against your back, and crossed his arms over your chest to grip his own elbows. His beard brushed against your cheekbone, and you found yourself nestling further into his hold. He was just so warm and solid and - 

Benny moved like lightning. His opponent came too close, ever so slightly unguarded, and Benny pivoted on his left foot and -

“Fuck!” you screamed. Benny’s opponent hit the floor, and the arena erupted.

===> Chapter Two

[gutterdreams]

I haven't done any writing ages. Got married, had a baby, fell off the face of the Earth. This blog used to be essentially Billy Hargrove fics and head canons and maybe I'll get back to that, but I have been pretty interested in writing Triple Frontier stuff lately. If that's something people would be into, I will throw up an old prompt list and see what is requested? Sound good?

[toxicanonymity]

masterlist

TAG: Toxicanonymity ☠️. She/her. FAQ

ASKS: I don't really do traditional requests these days, but feel free to bring thots, questions, etc.

WARNINGS: NSFW I8+ w/ f!Reader unless otherwise noted. May have dubious consent (dubcon), non-consensual (noncon), unsafe sex, violence, and more. Warnings in fics.

Pedro Pascal characters masterlist

Boyd Holbrook characters masterlist

Non-fandom

Daddy's home (2k)

Nicked (1k)

Scream

Masked ghostface unless otherwise specified.

⭐ Every inch (series)

fight flight or fuck blurb

⭐ Rat in a cage one shot drabble

ghostface POV blurb

Prescott House B & B (Billy one shot)

Waking up cold blurb

Road house - scream AU (Dalton x reader)

Texas Chainsaw

⭐ The Spread (3.5k) Tommy Hewitt x reader. "Heavy" on size kink 🤭

House of Wax

✨The Wax Job (1.3k) - Bo Sinclair x reader

Halloween

Corey Cunningham (CC)

A lift and two screws (4.5k words) - 2️⃣ 🥩

Laid back (2.5k) -  👤 💐reach-around HJ.

Laid back: V-Day Vibes (3.2k) 👤💐 🥩 🧎‍♂️ toy

Corey from the yard (3.8k) - 2️⃣💐🥩

Corey from the Yard pt. 2 (5k) - 2️⃣ 🥩⚰️

It's Halloween (babysitting w/ CC) (3.5k) ⭐ 🎃

Yet another rattle - FFM (2.7k) - ft. Allyson

Corey C. from the call center (4.5k) - 💐

Dominating Corey in a declining mall (2.5k) - 🧎‍♂️

Tighty-whitey workout, interrupted (2k) 🥩

You wear MM's mask in bed (1.3k)

Giving head while CC streams (900)👤

⭐Good behavior (7.5k) work detail 4️⃣

⭐Birthday Wish (2k) dominant bf

⭐Give In (4.5k) 2️⃣

Hot Topic

Scrapyard (CNC) 500

Rock Bottom (22k) 🥩 ⚰️ . Corey, Michael, Y/N. (Other stories don't use Y/N).

Michael Myers (MM)

Corey leaves you with Michael (300)

⭐Michael makes them watch (1.3k)

Michael in Ambrose (2k) non con

The summoning (1.2k) ⚰️

⭐Skin Alley (1.5k) MM POV

Michael's Castle (3k)2️⃣ vampire!michael

Gravel Lot (1.1k) - Anniversary 💐

Gas station (550)

Knows you're horny (650 cnc)

Breeder Michael blurb

Reader w/ oral fixation blurb

Bathroom (M!reader)

Michael makes Corey watch

Obsessive Reader GN

Halloween Headcanons

Free Use (1.2k) 👤 🧎‍♂️

The Shape's Collar (900) 👤

Coming💦 (1.1k) 👤 MM, CC

When you're a screamer (650) 👤 MM, CC

Why it's hot when Michael drives 👤

overstimulating a squirter MM, CC

more Corey squirting HCs

Corey coming in his pants

Corey porn habits

Corey catches your self-pleasure

Corey period oral

Halloween drabbles, blurbs, misc.

Who's that calling you under the dinner table (Misc) txts CC

Frisky at the movie theater w/ CC (300)

COREGASM (600?) 👤

CC sounding like Leon in DBD👤

Corey's newest ring

Corey x You x Michael

reader nipple piercings & 2 CC

Corey nipple piercings

Michael x Obsessive! Reader 👤

MM dream / CC 📞sex & CNC

Corey x you x Michael u walk in

Michael & thighs

Michael Makes Corey Watch

Halloween non-Smut

Michael & Corey MBTI types (non-explicit)

1st date, Corey wants to leave with you 💐

Amusement park date 💐

Corey's new ring (100 word drabble)

Corey teaches you to drive (300 words)

Michael/Corey poll results

_____________________

Other Fandoms

The Bear

The ghost - Mike x reader x Carmy

Triple Frontier

The Worst - Tom "Redfly" Davis x DARK!reader

Road House

Scream AU - Elwood Dalton x reader

________________________

New: ✨

Multiple smut scenes: 2️⃣,3️⃣ etc

Fluffy: 💐

Submissive: 🧎‍♂️

Gender Neutral or Male Reader: 👤

Gratuitous beef: 🥩

Kill(s): ⚰️

[imaginesbymk]

inside your mind.

Triple Frontier One Shot

Summary: while camping for the night after the heist and running away from anyone that’s after them and the money, Ben tries to lighten up the mood by telling the boys a memorable story of a girl he’s been seeing.

Pairing: Ben Miller x Fem!Reader

Tags: song imagine!! inside your mind by the 1975.

A/N: garrett hedlund can literally punch me and i would ask him for more.

BEN WAS QUIET FOR HALF THE NIGHT. The boys settled in the rainforest wearing their coats to camouflage themselves and to shield away the rain from getting wet. All they could hear was just the rain draining down and some insects flying around, but none of them spoke a word. Not even Pope or even Redfly had a lot to say about their day.

The heist was absolutely stressful and beyond anything as a close call than serving in the army and experience all the things Ben had to go through. But he had something to keep his mind sharp and he thought to share it with his friends.

As the rain poured, his voice was raised a bit so they could hear him. “Did I ever tell you guys about the girl I’m seeing?” 

His older brother Will looked at him. “Umm, no? Not even me. Since when were you getting back in the gist of dating?”

Ben chuckled a bit. “I was rusty at first, but somehow I managed to win her heart. I’ve been seeing her for a couple of weeks now. Maybe a month.”

Pope whistled. “Damn, Benny. You think you can keep a woman longer than a week?”

“Surprisingly, yeah,” Ben said, quite serious from the joke. “There was something about me that made her want to stay longer, and there was something about her that made me want to do the same.”

“Oh yeah? What was it? The sex?” The three of them erupted in laughter as loud as the thunder in the sky.

“The sex, her hobbies, her ambitions . . .” he said.

“What’s her name?”

Saying her name out loud felt like the first time. “Y/N. And she’s visiting family at the moment so she knows I’m here but she doesn’t know why. So when I found out Lorea emerged from that secret vault I felt like I was gonna die at that very moment. I’d rather not die with Y/N having no idea what happened. She thinks I’m here on vacation.”

“You lied to her?” Will said.

“Not exactly. But if she knew she would kill me.” Ben shook his head and looked down at his lap. He looked back up, remembering to lighten up the mood given the situation. “Anyway, I know a lot about her and where she grew up, what she studied in college, what her favourite colour is, how she likes her eggs cooked. She’s been to one of my fights and probably cheered the loudest. I lost, but she was so supportive.”

“Like your number 1 fan,” his brother joked.

“Oh yes, definitely. But there’s something missing. I know her so well, she knows me so well, and we’re already comfortable around each other. But I feel like there’s a final missing puzzle piece and I can’t seem to put my finger on it. No matter how much I ask and learn, she’s still a mystery to me. I dunno, I just . . .” Ben trails off, staring off into the opening where a tree swung back and forth from the storm.

“But you deserve her, she hasn’t dumped you yet,” Redfly said.

Ben chuckled again. “Yeah . . . I watch her move around the house. How she walks, her body language when we talk, how she tenses up when something happens and calms down when I’m holding her.”

“Then what is it?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know what it is. I just wanna-” Ben mimics tearing something open with his bare hands. “Dig deep into her head, you know? Study her mind like it’s an exam. I wanna know what she thinks about during the late hours, what bothers her when she acts different, what she really thinks about me, if she ever dreams about me, and if she pictures herself enjoying her time with me. I think I love her, and I’m sure I dream about spending the rest of my time with her. I know I’m sure of it.”

This time, no one tried to joke. It was a heartwarming and lightening feeling and they might have to give kudos to Ben for sharing his story. 

Ben smiled warmly, staring up at the clouds, already thinking about what to do as soon as he would return to America and hold Y/N in his arms again. 

Maybe next time, Ben leans back to get comfortable for the night.

I have so much more to learn about you, baby girl.

THE END.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

An Unspoken Rule Part Ten

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

Notes: No notes? But I really wanna thank everyone that’s reblogged and left comments. They mean the world to me!! 

Warnings: None?

Summary: Layla was starting to get on my nerves. Between wedding planning (she seemed determined to get married as quickly as possible while handling as few of the logistics as possible) and with this recent campaign for me to be as dolled up as possible in case I meet someone I’m interested in, my patience was starting to wear thin.

“There’s someone we want you to meet!”

Layla looked way too excited to see me, had practically ripped William’s birthday gift out of my hands and shoved it into his as she led me further into their apartment. I’d figured she was planning on leading me into the living room, but she steered me farther down the hall, into the bathroom.

“And the person you want me to meet is... in here?” I asked, looking around the small space. Layla giggled, shaking her head.

“Don’t be ridiculous! I just thought you’d want to put on some eyeliner or lipstick or something.” My eyes narrowed at her as she began to rummage around in her makeup bag. I didn’t say anything, turning wordlessly on my heel in favor of going into the kitchen. She called after me, but I ignored it.

Layla was starting to get on my nerves. Between wedding planning (she seemed determined to get married as quickly as possible while handling as few of the logistics as possible) and with this recent campaign for me to be as dolled up as possible in case I meet someone I’m interested in, my patience was starting to wear thin.

Their small kitchen was cramped with both of the Miller brothers in it, as well their ex-captain, Tom Davis. I smiled, giving him a quick hug. I’d met him twice before; it was clear how much he cared for my boys, so he was good in my book.

“Beer?” Benny offered.

“Please,” I said. He passed on to me, accompanied with a kiss on the forehead. I smiled, reaching up and patting his cheek before I took a sip.

Benny stepped aside to reveal William leaning back against the counter. He must’ve been keeping an eye on Benny, and now that his brother had stepped aside, his eyes had landed on me. I gave him a small, tight smile.

“Did I get to say happy birthday? I don’t think I got to say it,” I said. He smiled, shaking his head.

“I think something came and swept you away.” I snorted, and he straightened. We met in the middle of the kitchen. I was careful as I hugged him not to let my beer tip one way another.

“Happy birthday,” I mumbled into his shoulder.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

“William!” I leaned away at the sound of Layla’s half-yell from the hall.

“Duty calls,” I teased. He didn’t smile, just nodded and turned away from me to answer her. I frowned as I watched him go, unable to shake the uneasy feeling that Layla’s yell has left me with.

“This the letter-writer?” I heard. I turned my head to see an attractive man coming into the kitchen with Benny. Benny didn’t answer him, just nodded before he stole my beer and mouthed, ‘Sorry’ at me.

——-

“You know, you’re even more gorgeous than the guys said.”

I might’ve been more flattered if it wasn’t the third compliment Santiago had lobbed in my direction in the last half hour, and if he hadn’t been slinging them all night. I knew if I asked Will he’d tell me that his friend was averaging one every ten minutes.

Tom had managed to steer the conversation away from Santiago’s compliments every time, but the poor man seemed to be at a loss. And while I had appreciated his help, maybe I was feeling a little mean.

“You think I’m gorgeous?” I repeated, folding my arms on the picnic table and leaning in a little bit.

“I do,” Santiago said with such sincerity, and my lips twitched with a smile as he leaned in in turn.

“Do you think...” we were both still leaning in, and I felt the guy’s’ eyes on us, “that I’m gorgeous enough to be one of your informants?”

Santiago’s smile disappeared, and he leaned back, scowling as the guys howled with laughter. I got up, picking up my empty beer bottle and giving William’s shoulder a squeeze before heading inside.

I hadn’t been flirted with quite this heavily before; Santiago was relentless to the point where I found myself wondering if maybe Layla had paid him to lay it on so thick. I felt like she’d been watching me like a hawk all night, especially if I was anywhere near Will.

“So that’s what the guys told you about me, huh? Good to know.” I looked up to find that Santiago had followed me inside.

“Where does this go?” He asked, holding his own empty bottle up.

“You can give that to me.”

“Nah, you can just tell me, I’ve got it. I think you’ll find me very capable,” he said simply. I rolled my eyes before nodding to the recycle bin.

“You don’t like me very much, do you,” He said as he set the bottle down.

“I don’t know you well enough to pass that judgement.” Santiago nodded, crossing the kitchen. I expected him to walk out, but he passed me instead, heading to the sink and turning on the faucet.

“You don’t have to do that. I can grab those later,” I said, but he waved me off.

“You’ve been taking care of everyone all night. I don’t mind. ‘Sides, I hate a dirty kitchen.”

“That something you picked up from the service?” I asked. He shook his head.

“Something I got from my mom.” I watched him for a few moments before walking over to the fridge.

“You want another one?” I offered.

“Sure,” he smiled at me over his shoulder. I grabbed one for each of us and opened them before I walked back over to the sink, setting one down near him.

“Thanks,” he said. I nodded before pushing myself up onto the counter beside the sink. I heard a burst of laughter from the group outside and leaned into Santiago’s space a little, peering through the window. I couldn’t help myself smiling at the sight of Will grinning so wide.

We still talked on the phone every day; our schedules rarely matched up, and we’d leave one another voicemails. I’d never admit it, but I loved it; it was like we were still writing one another letters. He’d call me when he was on his way to work or the VA or to his parents’; I’d call him on lunch break at work, or while I was grading papers. Sometimes we’d manage to catch one another, and we’d talk for hours. I’d fallen asleep listening to him twice.

We never spoke about it when we saw one another in person; neither of us had mentioned it to Benny. I would’ve known if Will had, because I’d never hear the end of it. Benny still made fun of me for having a crush on Will back in the day. But part of me wondered if he’d mentioned it to Layla, and that was why she’d been so insistent about my dating again. 

“So, you and Benny, that ever happen?” Santiago asked. My brows rose and I leaned back against the cabinet.

“No.”

“What about you and Ironhead?” I shook my head.

“Nah. The guys didn’t tell you that we hadn’t?”

“They did, but they’re also very protective of you. Wouldn’t be surprised if they kept it quiet to defend your honor.” I rolled my eyes, mumbling,

“There isn’t much left to defend.”  

Santiago laughed loudly, and I smiled, unable to help it. It was a pleasant sound.

“So what about you and me, that ever gonna happen?” He asked as he shut the faucet off and dried his hands. I watched him for a moment. For the first time since I’d met him, his flirting seemed genuine instead of showy.

“... It’s being considered.”

Santiago picked his beer up, lightly clinking the neck of his against the neck of mine.

“I will take that.”

——

“Look, I know that little crush of yours has reared its ugly head again. This could be so good for you,” Becca said, staring down at me. I didn’t answer, more focused on my breathing and maintaining a firm grip on the 75 pound straight bar I was using for chest presses. Becca had come to the gym with me and Benny that morning. I’d started going regularly with him as he began to train to fight again, and Becca had started to come with us as well, though I was starting to get the impression she was more interested in Benny than in fitness.

“And Santiago is... so cute. Hot, even.”

“Doing real well with this whole convincing thing, Beck,” I hissed out before replacing the bar in its cradle. I wilted, regaining control of my breathing. Becca leaned on the bar, folding her arms.

“Fine. How about this: Will is not interested. He’s never been into you, he treats you like a little sister. He still calls you ‘kid’, he’s engaged,” she listed, ticking the reasons off of her fingers.

“You two are never gonna happen. Ever. And you’re not fourteen anymore. He moved on with his life, it’s time for you to move on with yours.” I sat up, back to Becca. It hurt to hear, but deep down, I knew she was right. The idea of William had always been a long shot, because that was all it was: an idea. A childish, stupid idea.

“You good?” Benny asked, coming over to where me and Becca were. I nodded, getting up. I made to follow Benny to the next circuit, but Becca grasped my arm.

“If that was too harsh—“ She started. I stopped her, shaking my head.

“It was... perfect. And you’re right.” I smiled.

“Thanks, Becca.”

———

“I kinda figured you’d text me,” I said, putting the phone on speaker before setting it back atop a pile of papers I had left to grade.

“A little birdy told me that you prefer to talk on the phone,” Santiago said. I froze, eyeing the screen where Will’s name had popped up, trying to call me. I felt something heavy in my gut, and it took everything in me to decline the call.  Santiago’s, “Still there?” Reminded me that this wasn’t about William Miller.

“Yes! Yeah— Sorry, you caught me in the middle of grading.” We chatted for a little bit, about the weather, what had happened at school that day, the fact that Santiago had booked his flight to Colombia. 

“So how much longer are you gonna be in town?” I asked.

“Long enough to take you on a date,” was Santiago’s easy answer.

“You gonna come over and clean my kitchen?” I teased, and was surprised by the earnestness of his,

“If that’s what you want.”

----------

Tag list: @playbucky @calirindo

[playbucky]

I’d like to have a word with the person that decided that it would be okay to have Charlie Hunnam, Ben Affleck, Oscar Isaac, Pedro Pascal and Garrett Hedlund in a movie together.

[foli-vora]

Note: ‘You Broke Me First’ opened the door to this filthy fucking mess. You only have yourselves to blame.

wicked games.

Collection summary: Your affair with Francisco Morales. How it started, how it’s going, and how it ends.

Pairings: Tom “Redfly” Davis x f!reader, Frankie “Catfish” Morales x marriedf!reader

*the one-shots in this collection are strictly 18+. Warnings are as noted on each separate fic.*

[fics aren’t uploaded in chronological order and can be read as stand alone one shots, but they all connect in the one universe]

↓ instalments—

→ the night we met.

coming soon.

→ jealousy, jealousy.

Frankie doesn’t take a new bit of information well.

→ you broke me first.

You broke Francisco Morales the second you laid your pretty little eyes on him, and he loved it. He’ll always come back for more, even if it shatters him each and every time.

[alternate ending to ‘you broke me first’]

→ everything i wanted.

coming soon.

→ i fall apart.

TEASER HERE

coming soon.

[weasleywinchester]

How Did You Know My Ass Would Need Saving?

Santiago “Pope” Garcia x Reader

(I can’t for the LIFE OF ME find the original post for this pic, found via Pinterest but it doesn’t link to anyone specifically, so if you have the gif or original pic let me know!! It’s the perfect pic for this!)

Ok so I wrote something that is pure fluff... Did I think about ending it with smut? Hell ya. BUT this idea makes me chuckle every time I think about it so this is all about the LOL’s

“Yes… mmhmm.” You rub your forehead as your employee continues about today’s issue. You look at the clock on your computer, it reads exactly 30 minutes past the end of your shift. 

“Look, get what supplies you need tomorrow and be back in by 9 am.” You slam the phone down and lean back in your chair. You exhale and just really want to scream out loud.

“So demanding. Makes me tingle.” A smooth voice comes from the doorway. You smile and sigh.

“Santiago.” You turn your face and open your eyes to see Santiago “Pope” Garcia wearing his usual smirk.

“Think I could steal you away for dinner?” He gently pulls you from your chair, placing your arms around his neck, keeping his hands on top of yours. 

You smile, he does this every time he’s in town. He walks in on his little red carpet, takes you to dinner, flirts a lot, and ends up in your bed. And then after a few days, or even a few months one time, he leaves for another mission. But those big brown eyes and perfectly shaped lips… you let out a sigh and nod yes. 

“There’s a fancy new restaurant downtown I thought would be perfect.” He holds one of your hands while shoving all your essentials back into your purse.

“Ok, well I don’t need the bathroom key to go with me.” You laugh, prying it out of his hand, “And swing me by the apartment so I can get out of these clothes.” He flashes that brilliant smile, kissing you on the cheek and pulling you to the car.

_______

“So how long are you planning to be back for?” You look at Santi as you take a sip of your wine. The restaurant is indeed very fancy; not your usual style but you imagine Tom needed recon on this restaurant for an upcoming anniversary dinner.

“Forever.” He smiles, reaching for your hand. You roll your eyes, that’s his answer every time.

“I have a two week break before I start some local security work. That’ll be at least a few months.” 

You rub your thumb along the back of his hand, a few months with him would be heaven.

“(Y/N)?” He gives your hand a gentles squeeze, his brows knitting in concern.

“Santiago...”

He squeezes his eyes shut. The tone in your voice means you’re about to start that conversation; he knew it would come one day, he was just hoping it wasn’t today.

 “We do this every time.” You continue. You’ve never given up on the idea of you and him, but maybe it’s time you should.

“I want to try and make this work.” He whispers. “I took the security job with the stipulation that it would be here, and that my contract would be at least 6 months. I even told the guys we are together, for good.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He smiles like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He loves you. All this back and forth, he thought it was just fate telling him he wouldn’t settle, that he would always be left feeling alone. But every time he steps foot on Florida soil, you’re his first thought. 

“So what are you doing for two weeks before you start your job?”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Tess’s fifth birthday is this weekend. Tom and Molly are having a weekend getaway with family. I was hoping you would join me.” He gives you the bedroom eyes.

“I highly doubt the guys would let you bring a woman. They would have to explain to Tess why uncle Santi has a new girlfriend every time.” You laugh, even though every word of that sentence gives your confidence a beating.

“I ran it by the guys, and Molly. They agreed you’re welcome to join us.” He places a kiss on the back of your hand. When he turns his gaze to you you squeeze your thighs because he’s giving you the look.

“Okay, but if I hear one remark about me being a booty call, someone’s getting their ass kicked.”

“Remind me to bring some popcorn.”

_______

“Finally! Where have you two been?” Molly grabs both of you, dragging you to the living room.

“What the rush Molly?” Santi laughs.

“You two are three hours late. And for the last hour I’ve had to answer ‘where’s Uncle Santi?’ About a million times!” She snaps at him.

“My fault, I had to take care of something at work.” You wince. She takes a deep breath, slowly letting it out.

“It’s really ok. She just gets so excited for this one.” Molly points to Santi.

“I have that effect on a lot of women” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

“Well we’re on to presents so chop chop!” Molly claps, going back to the living room. 

“You do have a present for her right?” You side eye Santi.

“Of course.” He scoffs bringing out a black tote bag. You look at it, it looks like the one he throws his junk in when he doesn’t feel like packing his suitcase right.

You follow him into the living room, taking a seat next to Benny, who gives you a big ol’ hug.

“Uncle Santi’s present!” Tess claps. Molly points at the tote and Santi nods. Tess takes the bag and gently picks one item out. 

It’s a hair brush. 

She frowns, putting it down and picking up the next item. 

A granola bar.

“Santi.” You angrily whisper. He hums in response.

“I thought you said you had a present for Tess?”

“I do.” He gestures to the bag, which Tess just pulled out a toothbrush. You pinch his knee making him jump and walk over to Tess.

“Hey Tess looks like Uncle Santi got your present mixed up with mine. Let me grab yours.” You scoop the items up into the bag, giving her a big smile; you tell Molly to have her open something else and yank Santi off the couch. The guys snicker as you make your way back to your suitcase. 

“Santi, what the hell kind of gift is that?” You slap his arm.

“I don’t know what to buy her! And I just got back, there wasn’t much time.” He says, rubbing his arm where you smacked it.

“Well luckily for you, I can save your ass.” You hold up a pretty pink bag that’s the same size as Tess.

“How did you know my ass would need saving?” He crosses his arms.

“Because you packed a backpack for a kids birthday weekend!” 

Santi gives you a weird look. 

“This is what half of my suitcase was!” You wave the bag at him. He looks between you and the bag. You can see he’s trying to connect to dots; and then a look of realizations appears on his face, he gives you a silent oh.

“Now you’re going to go and do your ‘I’m the best uncle’ show and give this to her.” You hand the bag off to him and go back to your seat on the couch.

“It’s not a show...” he mumbles before coming back into the living room, a big smile plastered on his face for Tess.

“Princesa! Your gift.” He smiles, kneeling as he slants the top of the bag towards her. Her eyes turn into saucers as she eagerly rips the tissue paper out of the bag. Santi comes back to sit on the couch, throwing his arm around your shoulders.

Tess manages to get the big box out of the bag with the help of her uncle Benny and screams in glee when she sees what it is. Everyone gasps, it’s the latest toy of the year that has been virtually impossible to find. 

“Pope, how did you even find that?” Tom mumbles, his mouth open in shock. Frankie pats him on the shoulder, trying so hard not to laugh. He knew as soon as they said you could come that you’d blow everyone else’s gift out of the water

You smirk, extremely proud you were able to pull off the biggest save of the year. You glance at Will, he gives you a nod of approval, knowing full well this was all you.

“Remind me to thank you later.” Santi whispers into your hair, his hand gently caressing your thigh.

[astoryisaloveaffair]

Fix You - Chapter 3: Rattled Over You

Fic Masterlist

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

Read on A03

Spotify Playlist

»»———————►

Chapter Summary: Frankie realizes his feelings, and maybe, so do you.

Word Count: 5,500

Rating: Explicit  (HERE WE GOOOOO)

Chapter Warnings: Brief SMUT, masturbation (m), dirty talk, doggy style p in v if you don’t blink,  language, alcohol consumption, mentions of previous substance abuse, anxiety, legal age difference (10-15 years), fluff, mentions of TOM “REDFLY” DAVIS

A/N: HELLO. I have RISEN. And I have brought smut! Please be kind, despite being a hoe, I literally have never written smut before, hopefully it’s not terrible. I did have a beta look over it but I’M SO NERVOUS. That being said, we also have some long awaited for fluff, because Frankie deserves a goddamn break. So far we have been spending a lot of time in Frankie’s brain, that will eventually start shifting. Frankie is way more fucked up than our girl so I needed to establish where he’s at. I hope you enjoy and if you are feeling like you shouldn’t be able to like reading fic of your faves, you absolutely can, and strangers on the internet’s opinion on it DOES NOT MATTER. Read what you like, write what you like, like what you like, there’s nothing wrong with that. Thank you to the lovely @whiskeyyourwaytomyheart​ for being my smut beta!

Suggested Songs: “Rattled” by the Traveling Wilburys, “I’ve Just Seen A Face” by The Beatles, “More Than a Feeling” by Boston, “Somebody to Love” by Queen

»»———————►

It was your second shift, and after watching Toy Story with Gabriela, several tickle fights, and checking every toy to see if they came alive, you had finally put her to sleep. You opened up your books, but you found yourself constantly distracted by the desire to know more. You wanted to know more about him, and your ability to resist doing a little snooping had run out. You pull yourself away from your studies and soon find yourself walking from room to room, taking in the home, looking at anything and nothing in particular. Frankie kept his home neat, aside from a child’s toy or two on the floor. You wonder to yourself if his bedroom was as neat, but firmly told yourself that that was crossing a line. That door was closed, and would remain so.

He had a nice house. Three bedrooms including a guest room, a kitchen with a large island that opened straight into the “dining room” with a farmhouse style table, and living room. The most expensive non-furniture item he seemed to have in his home other than the video game system at the base of his tv was a dual espresso and coffee maker. A serious coffee drinker, you think in approval. Eventually, not finding anything else of much interest other than standard bachelor stuff, you return to the living room, ending up at his massive tv stand filled with a variety of DVDs, blue rays, books, manuals, video game sleeves, and photographs. Here we go.

You scan your eyes down the book titles. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Slaughterhouse Five, The Road, Watership Down, Crime and Punishment, One Hundred Years of Solitude, and several more obviously well-read, psychological fiction titles. And a serious reader too. You opened up One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, the most noticeably well read, flipping through the worn spine and finding little notes and markings in most of the pages, like he’d found things to relate to and analyze separately on his own time.

Putting that book back, you switched to the next shelf, which was loaded with a random assortment of military aircraft manuals and history books, predominantly on helicopters. Types of helicopters throughout US history, flight command signal manuals, helicopter maintenance texts, and more.

You move on, bending lower to look at several photographs decorating the next shelf. One, of an obviously much younger Frankie, strapped into the pilot’s seat of a helicopter, flicking off whoever was taking the photo, making you laugh at the image. God, that jawline...and he’s only more attractive now! You suddenly understand why Gabriela feels so strongly about her little toy helicopter. You were a helicopter pilot in the Army, Frankie. You think about him strapped into the cockpit and find it fitting, and not just a little sexy. Next, a picture taken much later, probably within the last decade, of Frankie standing between four other men, smiling in big military vests. He was wearing his signature hat, longer hair and scruffy jaw on full display, and you smile at the strong comradery of the group in the photograph. He was definitely the most handsome of the bunch. Definitely more attractive with age. Another photo of him and one of those men hugging each other tightly in full military gear, smiling stupidly. And a photograph with another of the men from the group photo, leaning against a truck, smoking a cigarette and grimacing at the photo-taker. This photo, unlike the others, was decorated with a small patch that said “Special Forces” on it, as well as a tiny little metal plaque with the word “Redfly” on it. You wondered what that meant. A nickname, maybe?

The shelf ended with several photos of Frankie with Gabi, occasionally featuring some of the other men in the previous photos. You could tell at one time there had been more photos here, but they had been removed. One of the pictures was of Gabriela sitting on Frankie’s shoulders at some sort of theme park as a baby, another of them playing at the beach, one more of her being held by two other men from the group photo, giving her kisses on each cheek, and a picture of her with cake all over her face from a birthday. You were about to move on to the next photo when a low teasing voice suddenly broke the silent house, “Digging some dirt on me?”, and you turn around abruptly to a smiling Frankie, who had apparently arrived home and you hadn’t even noticed.

Your ass. That is the first thing his eyes beeline to the moment he enters his house. And oh, he tried so hard not to look. But there you are, facing away from him, bending over right in front of his tv stand looking at photos of him, your ass on prominent display in those fucking workout leggings with the seams framing your butt cheeks in the most enticing way, the middle seam in between each one indenting just enough for him to imagine exactly what your ass looks like without clothes on. He is completely paralyzed. And completely turned on. His brain shuts down and can only process his lust. He thinks about what it would be like to step up behind you, to grasp your hips in his hands and press his hardness against you. Would you grind yourself back on him? Would you let him pull your leggings and panties down, nudge your legs apart, push you to brace your hands on one of the shelves as he shoves his cock into you?

He almost moans out loud at the thought, which jerks him back into reality. He is standing there salivating and staring at your ass, not saying anything, like an absolute creep. He forces himself to turn away and close the door, tucks his erection into the waistband of his jeans to hide it, and makes himself fucking say something to you that is normal.

“Digging some dirt on me?” He realizes he’s completely startled you, as you whip around quickly and smile guiltily, like you think he’s actually mad at you.

“Oh! Hey, Mr. Morales, I’m sorry, I was curious.”

He shakes his head, reassuring you, and his heart drops into his stomach thinking that you were curious about him and would want to know more, which is definitely not helping with his dick. But he tells himself that it must be a professional interest in the person you’re working for, and nothing more.

“Did you find anything interesting?” He tilts his head and moves further into the room, hanging up his coat and setting down his hat.

You can’t even control yourself. You’re too excited to know more, you have so many questions. Your mind goes to the most interesting thing, and you forget to even mention his amazing book collection. “Mr. Morales,” you breathe excitedly, “did you fly helicopters?!”

He grins widely, “I do! Well-I did…” His smile suddenly vanishes, and his face sobers up a little. “I uh, I can’t fly right now. But hopefully soon.”

“Oh. Well...what's it like? I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fly. Sometimes I see hawks in the sky and I get so jealous, just being able to fly and see anything they want…”

He cheers at your words, the light slowly returning to his face. “It’s the best feeling in the world.” He steps a little closer to you, opening one of his manuals and showing you different pictures of the models he’s flown. You look over them all with true interest, listening to mundane details on each one, not the feigning interest like someone just trying to humor him. As you look at the pages, he looks at you, his thoughts of you going to a softer place. What it would be like to see you fly with him. What your facial expressions would be like when he takes off, or as he flew you over the ocean. If you would be scared at first, or be fearless the whole time. What your excited breath would sound like in his headphones.

“It’s like floating,” he continues, and you look back up at him. “Nothing else exists, just you, you and the clouds and the mission and your team. You can’t hear anything outside, just the sound of the motors and blades and your crew. The control that I have moving this huge machine, it makes me feel a sense of calm, which is always good before the chaos of the mission. I hope you get to fly in one someday.”

Your lips part as you listen to him describe it in that incredibly sexy voice, low and husky, and you imagine it’s what his pillow-talk sounds like. He talks about it like he’s in love with it, you can’t help but become affected by it. Your heart clenches, your tummy flutters with butterflies, and your head is getting fuzzy with yearning. He’s so incredibly handsome, and sexy, and soft right now, you can barely stand to look at him just standing there, all big and strong and smelling delicious, and you just want him so badly. But you can’t look away, because his dark eyes are staring right into yours, burning you from inside out.

You have to remind yourself that he’s talking about flying. He’s not talking or thinking about you. You’re just his babysitter, and your heart sinks. You’re not sure what you were expecting. It’s a familiar tug of war, indulging the feel good desires of getting to know someone you’re crushing on better, and reminding yourself that the person you like is not really attainable and you’re setting yourself up to get hurt again. You should know better. Yet you respond, "I hope so too,” and think to yourself: but with you. You break the moment before you melt into a simpering puddle and make a fool of yourself.

“Well, I guess I should be going. I have a project I need to complete in a few days, and I’m still struggling to understand the material.” You turn away from him and head back to his coffee table, where you had spread all your class materials and research texts. Frankie loosens himself from his waistband, his body now under control. He wants you to stay, his face falls seeing you packing up to leave, and he frantically looks around to find a way to distract you into staying longer. His eyes land on your open books. “US Military Presence in the Middle East…” he mutters to himself. “Not to impose, but what’s this project on? I was stationed in Iraq and Afghanistan for most of my deployments, in Special Forces.”

He insists then on helping you, and you accept his offer to help you understand the material, grateful despite that voice in your head that the fates have placed this opportunity to stay later with him into your open arms. He sits down on the floor next to you, knees bumping yours, and you scoot closer than you probably need to as he begins looking over the material.

“What is this project on?” He suddenly asks after a few minutes.

“American Imperialism in the 21st Century.”

He furrows his brow and is silent for a moment. “I can’t tell if that’s an insult or not.” And then, you both burst out laughing.

Frankie can’t sleep. Again. You had left after an extra hour or two, full of gratitude and feeling much more confident in your work.

The thoughts that started since he met you kept sneaking into his head, but this time, he wasn’t able to push them away. He didn’t want to push them away. The flash of your cheeky smile, the heat of your thigh as it pressed against his, the way your cleavage was just barely poking out of your v-neck tee as you leaned over the coffee table, writing things down he was explaining. The way your neck was so close, he could smell you, and he wouldn’t have had to move much to gently press his nose into your sweet spot to get a better whiff. The way you licked your lips, and stuck your tongue out of your mouth when you were almost done writing a long sentence. He wanted that tongue on him, slowly poking out to touch the tip of his dick experimentally before he would grab you by the back of the neck and slide himself further in your hot mouth.

Fuck. He was getting hard, and he starts palming himself over his pajama pants, finally succumbing to the temptation that he’s been trying to resist for three weeks now, letting his mind spiral as he remembers how he found you when he walked in the door. What he could have done to you, if you were his.

He’d have placed his hands heavily on your hips and pulled you back into him, rubbing his arousal against you, and you would hum and wiggle yourself against his hardness.

“Frankie…” you would whine, and you’d turn your head to look at him, attempting to raise yourself up to full height. He would slide his palm under your shirt and up your back, feeling your hot skin, gently bending you back forward.

“Can I take you like this, baby?” He’d ask, rubbing your back and rocking his cock against you, tilting his head back, and softly moaning, his eyes fluttering closed at finally getting relief for his lust.

“Frankie...yes, please,” you would beg.

He would take his palm out of your shirt and back up his body from yours, then push his hand between your thighs to rub the entire length of your pussy through your leggings. You would be so wet for him, he would be able to feel it through them.

“Tell me. Tell me what you want me to do. I need to hear it.”

“I want you to fuck me right here Frankie.”

Frankie moans out loudly and slides his pants and boxers down his thighs, taking his stiff cock in hand and stroking up and down the shaft, slowly and loosely as he hardens further. He reaches over to his nightstand and fumbles in one of the drawers for a tiny bottle of travel sized lotion he hides in there for this exact purpose, squeezing a small amount in his hand. Taking himself again, he pumps himself faster with the added lubrication, tightening his grip every time he reaches the sensitive head. He can already feel the pre-cum oozing out and mixing with the lotion, and his eyes flutter shut as his breathing escalates with his fantasy. He knows he won’t last long. He’s been holding back thinking of you like this for so long. It’s like an overflowing dam with a cracked foundation. It simply cannot hold anymore.

He would fuck you just as you asked. He’d yank your leggings and panties down, seeing your wetness beginning to slide down your thighs.

“Oh, honey...is this mess all for me?” He’d murmur, pushing his thick fingers through your slick and smearing it around.

“Yes, Frankie, just for you. No one else.”

He’d nudge his knee through your thighs to open them, spreading your legs as far as he could with your pants still around your ankles, shoving his own pants down and lining his cock up against you, rubbing it back and forth through your wet folds until you’re practically sobbing for it. And then, finally, he’d slam into you, the force of it pushing against the heavy tv stand, slightly rattling the contents of the shelf you’re holding onto for dear life while he sets a hard and fast pace. You would cry out loudly, and you’d be so perfect, so warm, he just knows you would be so tight around his girth, he’d feel like he barely fits, he-

“Shit. SHIT. Holy fucking shit. Fuck fuck fuck-FUUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK….” Frankie feels his release working up his shaft, pulsing overwhelming pleasure, and he pants out harshly, gritting his teeth and lifting his hips while speeding up his strokes until he orgasms. His cum spurts out on his stomach and hand in ropes, thick and warm, his eyes slamming shut as he rides it out. When the aftershocks reside, he flops his head back onto his pillow, arms flung out in exhaustive release. His mind is in euphoria; fuzzy, empty, and blissed out.

“Fuck.”

After several minutes, his heart beat slows back down, and he reaches for some tissues to wipe himself clean, throwing them on the floor when he’s done. He pulls his pajamas and boxers back up, rolling over on the bed and settling in, finally relaxed enough to attempt sleep. He thinks once more of you as he drifts off.

Not a fucking chance in hell.

Gabi’s drop off at Lex’s house on Sunday goes well, an unspoken, awkward agreement to not antagonize each other and try to make this work as seamlessly and stress free as possible. They rarely speak, resorting simply to texts when they aren’t face to face, gestures, nods, and one word answers when they are. The next two weeks crawl by unbearably. He misses Gabi, and if he’s being honest with himself, he misses you too. He thinks about your project and hopes it went well. At one point he considers calling you to ask about it, but then talks himself out of it, thinking it would be out of line.

He busies himself with work, taking extra shifts to make the two weeks go by faster, meeting up with the guys more often, and catching up on the sobriety meetings he wasn’t able to attend the past two weeks he’d had Gabi.

I have to figure that out at some point. He knows how important going is to the courts and to his sobriety, and scolds himself for not having any foresight whatsoever. It was an aspect of him that drove Lex absolutely crazy. He was never great at planning or thinking ahead for potential problems and solving them before they became a problem. He wonders if it’s too soon to ask you to come more often. Would you need to know the specifics on why? Would it scare you away?

He has to ask you. You were well aware that if things were going well, you would be asked to pick up more shifts if needed. That was mentioned in your first meeting. It wouldn’t have bothered him before if you knew he was a recovering addict. But now...he likes you. He likes you a lot. Even though he knew there was little chance of reciprocation, now it matters to him. He doesn’t want you to be scared off. Gabriela has already taken to you so quickly, and so has he.

When Sunday arrives, he tries to focus solely on the positive: being back with his daughter. He had missed her so much just in those two weeks away. Somehow, being able to spend so much more time with her makes the absence of her worse. When he finally has her in his arms, he takes a moment to sit in his truck just holding her, right in front of Lex’s house. He nuzzles into her soft hair, peppering her head and face with tiny kisses, trying not to cry, until she gets sick of it and lightly smacks him on the head to let her have her personal space. He chuckles, planting one more sloppy kiss on her cheek before he straps her into the baby seat in the second row of his truck cab and heads back to his house.

When Friday arrives, the anxiety starts setting in hard. He paces back and forth in his house from the time he gets home from work and daycare pickup to when you’re supposed to arrive, riddled with nervous energy. Even Gabriela notices, quietly watching him from her booster seat while she has her dinner. You’re gonna run, he thinks. He probably would too.

You had been thinking of him the whole time. Your presentation had gone well and you had him to thank, several of the questions he had straightened out were things your colleagues asked you about. When you burst out of the hall in relief, you had immediately started typing out a text to him to thank him, but something stopped you. You were unsure where the lines stood between you and him. You wanted to think he was starting to be a friend, not just an employer you unfortunately had a crush on, but you didn’t know where he stood. He had never texted you, and so you second guess yourself, delete the message, and place your phone back in your bag with a sigh of irritation.

You were used to being a loner now. You had friends, but most of them were back home while you were in grad school, and though you talked to them on the phone frequently, you lived alone and didn’t make many friends on campus. The way you spent your days here used to be enough, but now felt less so. They felt more hollow. You found yourself eager to see not just Gabriela, but Frankie too, and it terrifies you. You had a habit of putting yourself in situations to get hurt, but you couldn’t help how overwhelmingly excited you were to go back.

You pulled up to Frankie’s house that Friday and practically bounced up the porch steps to his door, but when he greets you and lets you in you can tell there was something off about him. He’s twitchy and nervous and seemed more unfocused than normal. You wanted to ask if he was okay, but left it alone, figuring he’d tell you if he wanted to. Maybe he’d just had a bad day. You head right to Gabi, who babbles excitedly to see you and you set up Hercules for you and her to watch. Frankie’s behavior becomes more serious to you when he leaves with little conversation or small talk, the first time he’s ever done that with you, and it scares you. Is he not happy with the arrangement? Maybe he wants to find someone else? Are you going to get fired? Did you do something wrong? You try to center yourself knowing there’s nothing you can do while he’s out, focusing your attention solely on Gabi and the movie.

When Frankie comes home, you are perched on his couch reading, and you stiffen the minute he locks his sad looking eyes on you.

“Hey…” He greets softly.

“Hi Mr. Morales, did you have a good time?”

“Yea, I did...” His voice trails off and he looks away from you, pulling his hat off and running his fingers through the hair. You‘ve noticed he does that when he’s nervous. You wait for him to say what he needs to say, your heart pounding so loud you’re surprised he can’t hear it. He starts towards you, then stops, puts his hands on his hips, and pulls a face.

“Do you want me to go?” You ask, unable to remain in the awkward silence.

He starts at that, and jerks his eyes back to yours. “No!” You widen yours eyes and he realizes he unintentionally raised his voice at you. Frankie takes a heavy breath and approaches you carefully, sitting on the couch next to you.

“I’m sorry. I have to ask you something, but I’m nervous, and I’m being weird.”

“Oh. It’s okay. What is it?”

Frankie breathes out a quick forceful breath, attempting to shake off the nervous energy. You can smell the alcohol on his breath. It smells stronger than it usually does, but he doesn’t seem concerningly drunk. You wait patiently for him.

“I wanted to ask you if you would be willing to pick up some more shifts? I know I mentioned it when I hired you, but I didn’t want to put too much on your plate before we knew if this would be a good fit. I have these....meetings I go to twice a week, and I missed them all when it was my time with Gabi. I didn’t think it would be a big deal to go less often, but….I don’t like not going. I-I need to go. I have them after work on Wednesdays and Sunday evenings, but you don’t have to do the Sundays, Benny and Will said they’d take her Sundays while I go, but would you be willing to pick her up from daycare on Wednesdays and watch her until I come home?”  He realizes he’s rambling and ends on the question, looking up at you in apprehension.

You don’t realize that you’re sitting so quietly without answering him, putting all the pieces together. Meetings. Twice a week. AFTER work, so it’s not work. And on Sundays...that he NEEDS to go to... and then, you figure it out. The silence seems deafening to Frankie, and he is about to tell you to forget about it and say nevermind when you finally respond.

“Yes. Yes, to both days if you need it.” You meet his eyes unwavering, and he quietly expels a sigh of relief. “Why were you so nervous to ask me?”

“I was afraid...that you'd say no,” he says, trying to be as vague as possible, “and I-we really like you, Gabi talks about you often and I think you’re perfect. For us.”

“Oh…..Frankie…” you say, and It’s the first time you’ve said his name, his real name, and his heart almost cleaves in two from that alone.

He knows you know, and he opens his mouth to explain, but you cut him off by putting your hand on his arm.

“No, you don’t need to tell me, if you aren’t comfortable. I will do it, no problem. No questions asked. But please know, you shouldn’t be ashamed of anything you’re doing to make yourself a better person. Whatever it is, you should be really proud of yourself. And if you ever want to talk about it, we can.”

He thinks he might be hallucinating

He never expected this reaction, and it makes it so real to him how incredibly fucked he is, how easily he could fall for you. Your acceptance, your kindness, your quiet support, your humor, your youth and the way your presence just makes him feel so good. He hasn’t had that from a woman in so long. You’re special, you’re special to him .

You pull him from his thoughts before he can do something stupidly impulsive, like kiss you.

“Who are Benny and Will?”

He’s grateful for the distraction. “They’re my squadron brothers. They have a house near here and we meet up a lot. They’re who I go out with on Friday nights.”

“Ooo, are they some of the guys in your pictures?” You stand up and walk over to the his tv stand and he joins you. “Show me which.” He points to the photo you love of Gabriela being kissed by the two men.

“That’s them.”

You hum, and continue down the shelf, pointing at the photo of Frankie hugging the other man. “And this one? I love this picture.”

Frankie chuckles, “That’s Santiago, but we call him ‘Pope’, cause he’s so full of himself. He’s my best friend, but he’s in New Zealand right now. Haven’t seen him in a bit.”

“Is ‘Pope’ like his Army name or something?”

“Yep, we almost all got one. Will’s is Ironhead, cause he got shot in the head.” You open your mouth in shock, but he just keeps going like it’s not a big deal. Benny’s Will’s brother, and he’s the baby, he doesn’t have one. Just Benny.”

“Do you have one?”

“Yea, but you’re gonna laugh at me.”

“Oh please! Now I have to know even more!” You jump up and down. “TELL ME!!!”

He laughs at you, putting his hands up to appease you. “It’s Catfish.”

You stop jumping and stare at him, before a smile cracks through and you burst into laughter, and he does too, set off by your own.

“WHY is it ‘CATFISH’, Frankie?!”

He slaps his hand to his face and mockingly groans like he’s annoyed. “It’s cause I can’t grow a full fucking beard. They are always raggin’ on me about it, saying it looks like a catfish. Fucking patches missing, and now there’s gray spots.” He turns his cheek to you to show you, and you reach out and rub your fingers through his patchy scruff.

“Oh, it looks good! It’s endearing.”

He does his best not to react, but he’s going crazy on the inside at the compliment. Is she...flirting or am I in so deep I’m fucking imagining things now?

You giggle and pull your hand away, moving to look at the last photo. “So, who’s Redfly?” You can tell immediately you shouldn’t have asked. Frankie suddenly stiffens, his adorable smile falling from his face.

“He uh, he was our captain. Tom, was his name. He...died.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry Frankie. I-I should have realized, I shouldn’t have asked.”

He shakes his head. “No. No, I’m happy you did. I want you to know about him. He got that name cause he would always plan our mission details. A redfly is a fishing lure. He was our glue, you know? Shot five times in service. I thought he’d never be the one to...to be the one that died first, out of all of us.”

You’re silent for a while, but it’s not sad or awkward. Just a respectful moment of silence. “I’m sorry for your loss Frankie. He sounds like he was special.” You put your hand back on his arm and he looks up and smiles faintly at you.

“He was. He was also a dick, but he was our dick.” You both chuckle.

“Can I hug you? I think you need one.” You say suddenly. He blinks at you, then nods. You’re not wrong. He can’t remember the last time he was hugged. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, making sure there’s enough space to keep it loose, and after a few beats, he wraps his arms around your waist. But the magnetism between you quickly makes him pull your waist flush against him, and he lightly places his nose in your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, your light fruity perfume, and the essence of just you . You can’t help but gently lay your head against his clavicle. He smells fucking incredible, you want to stay in his arms forever, but you know you shouldn’t make this any longer than a casual hug. You place your hands on the top of his shoulders and give him a quick pat, and he reads your signal to release you and you awkwardly back away from each other.

“Thank you…” he says. “For taking the shifts. And...everything.” He says, struggling to find the right words.

“Of course. I’m glad I can help. I want to help. So, I’ll see you Sunday? Wednesday?”

“Wednesday. I'll send you the address of the daycare tomorrow on your phone, if that’s okay. You can just come straight to the house.” He shows you the lockbox where he keeps a spare key and you accept the code, swelling with happiness that he trusts you with a key to his home. Frankie helps you pack up your things, then suddenly remembers.

“Your presentation! How did it go?”

“Oh my god, Frankie, you were a lifesaver. I totally would have looked like a fucking idiot if you hadn’t helped me. Thank you so much.”

He grins widely. “I wanted to text you to ask how it went, but I didn’t know if that would be weird.”

You shake your head. “You can text me…” You tell him softly, “I almost texted you too.”

“Okay, so we can text. And cuss apparently.” He huffs out a laugh.

“Well, to be fair, you cussed first.” You giggle together again as he guides you to his door, his hand hovering over the small of your back. He’s not even touching you, but you can feel the heat of his palm. You turn back to him, wanting to hug him again, make him happy, protect him, kiss him. But you don’t. You say goodbye and you leave.

Later that night when you are in bed and your brain isn’t all fuzzy with endorphins, you remember. You remember how he pulled you into him during your hug, how he slid his arms around your low waist, keeping contact with you the whole time. How you’re fucking falling in love with him like an idiot, despite everything you’ve been through. Am I reading too much into this? you think. Of course I am. I always do, falling for someone, trying to fix them, then getting hurt every time. What a fucking cliché I am , simpering over a random, sad but hot dad like we’re going to fall in love and live happily ever after. Ridiculous. You groan in frustration and smack your pillow, throwing it over your face. It takes forever for you to fall asleep.

Chapter 4

»»———————►

Taglist (Let me know if you want to be added!): @absurdthirst @hnt-escape @silverstarsandsuns @heythere-mel @missjessie21 @magikfanatic @theinnerrebelnerd @nexuswhisperer @sarahjkl82-blog @hb8301 @thou-creature-of-the-deep @thisshipwillsail316 @pascalpanic @driedgreentomatoes @freeshavocadoooo @the-tres-geckos @phoenix-of-loki @empress-palpat1ne @dobbyjen