#( you never say your name out loud to anyone ; frankie )

[sanjisprincesswifey]

pros and cons

summary: the good, the bad, the ugly, perfectly curated into a pros and cons list

♡: reupload (but better now), some nsfw content is listed; MDNI, includes all characters with indications of a female reader!

black leg sanji

pros:

constantly wants to color coordinate your outfits together

let’s you pick meals at minimum once a week

very good kisser (he practiced with his pillow a lot before your first date)

he wants you to walk him like a dog

sanji never lets you forget how much you mean to him

always remembers important dates, birthdays, anniversaries, etc. 

remembers the little things and notices your absence (will often go to try and find you)

adapts to whatever love language you respond to 

cons:

the nicotine smell embeds into your sheets and clothes and is a pain in the ass to get out

yells for any minor inconvenience

occasionally too handsy

always finishes before you

major jealousy issues

is constantly horny

says he’s fine but he’s dying inside

doesn’t understand the concept of alone time and takes it personally if you ask to be by yourself

roronoa zoro

pros: 

the best napping partner

protective

is a softie but only with you

very emotionally intelligent 

gym trainer boyfriend

let’s you take the relationship at your own pace because he can’t be bothered 

loves to mark you and give you hickies

always makes sure you finish first 

cons: 

stinky (bro smells like sweat and steel)

does not have a single romantic bone in his body; you’ll literally have to teach him how to be a boyfriend

is extremely blunt 

snores super loud 

might fall asleep while you’re talking

you can no longer be friends with sanji 

doesn’t ask you to date him, just assumes you are together

gets upset when you can’t keep up with his drinking

monkey d luffy

pros: 

the best hugger 

extremely loyal to you

hides midnight snacks for both of you

lets you sit on the ship’s figurehead with him

king of silly sentimental gifts (hand-picked flower, cool rock, pretty seashell, that sort of thing)

always makes sure you’re included in conversations

shares his favorite foods with you

can always make you feel better

cons:

doesn’t know how to be quiet or whisper

never lets you win arguments

throws himself at you with no regard to his strength

no concept of personal space

rubs his boogers on you

accidentally makes fun of the noises you make during sex

will steal blankets from you while you’re asleep  

points out your pimples or zits 

usopp

pros: 

always finds a way to make you laugh

grows flowers for you

comforts you if you’re insecure

handmade gifts!!!!!!

brags about you to everyone

loves to show you off and tell stories about your adventures together

names special attacks after you

always lets you in on the pranks he pulls 

cons: 

is insecure

would sacrifice you to an enemy to protect himself

shows you bugs even if you’re afraid of them

incredibly awkward with all your firsts 

clammy hands

make jokes during arguments (it makes you madder and the cycle continues)

never tops

sometimes pranks you too 

cyborg franky

pros:

is always telling you how hot you are

can literally build/make you anything you desire

romantic (can be corny sometimes though)

so flirty with you

human refrigerator; occasionally lets you store things in there

introduces you like this: “and this is my super smokin’ hot girlfriend, OW” to anyone who will listen

protects you during fights

king of reassurance

cons:

messy

never wears pants

slaps your ass too hard since he’s half metal

dad jokes 24/7

you can’t compliment him without him doing a montage of poses

difficult to cuddle with (again he’s made of parts)

always busy fixing something on the ship

is constantly asking you if he can make you a cyborg too

nami

pros:

lets you take a few of her tangerines

immune to her reprimanding when something bad happens (most times)

extremely thoughtful gift giver

shares her money with you

cares deeply about you (don’t point it out though because then she’ll stop)

is always telling you how pretty you are

very good in bed

is more lenient with your allowance

cons:

pawns gifts you get her

bad communicator

critiques everything about you

can and will distance herself from you

charges you if you piss her off

talks about vivi way too much for having a whole other girlfriend

doesn’t apologize after fights even if she caused them

bullies you (with love)

nico robin

pros:

leaves you notes in books to find later

the voice of reason in your relationship

notices and compliments you on every little change you make (haircuts, style change, etc.)

extremely good listener

literally a human search engine; so smart you can ask her almost any question and she knows the answer

passionate lover; treats you like a god in bed

soft lips

spoils you in every way that she can

cons:

can make you feel dumb with her endless knowledge

will never say ‘i love you’ first

always tops (a possible pro depending on your preferences tbh)

has nightmares almost every night ):

closed off in the beginning of your relationship

franky hits on her (and you) all the time

rather be reading than with you

takes your relationship extremely slow

portgas d ace

pros:

can heat food up for you at any time day or night

loves pda

plans fun dates

probably says ‘i love you’ a million times a day

into body worship (both ways)

kills bugs for you

walk him like a dog, sis !

never says no to you

cons:

sweaty and greasy in the summer

farts and gives you a dutch oven

doesn’t take anything seriously

adhd moments

mommy AND daddy issues

likes to lay on top of you even though he’s huge and basically crushes you

talks with his mouth full

is loud in bed (because he enjoys it so much) and everyone can hear when you two have sex

sabo

pros:

another body worshipper

dragon claw fist. need i say more?

the best secret keeper

praises you

would actually bow down to you

very respectful, asked you to kiss on your first date

awkward but sensual lover

a loyal puppy

cons:

loves being right

sore winner & loser

cocky ass mf

talks about luffy and ace 24/7

never on time

bad temper

might catch on fire if he’s mad

loves to tease you (again, could be a pro depending on your preferences)

shanks

pros:

buys you anything you could ever want

good kisser

always showing you off

treats you like a queen

calls you his wife

very affectionate in public

another worshipper; does that thing where his kisses lead up from your hand to your shoulder

when he gets drunk and you try to kiss him, he pushes you away and says “get off me, i have a wife”

cons:

gets you riled up during the day

teases you all the time

can be unreliable

bad at flirting

drunk all the time

still makes jokes about his arm even though it’s been YEARS

lingering alcohol smell

pervert

trafalgar law

pros:

rarely cooks but always does for you when you’re sick

smells amazing all of the time

lets you do this eyeliner in the morning (based off this fanart)

is a victim of the ‘she fell first, he fell harder’ trope

gives you sound solutions to your problems

literally becomes addicted to you and can’t live without you

flusters easily, very shy

would shave his facial hair if you asked him to (please tell him to shave off that godforsaken beard)

cons:

very blunt

never talks about his feelings

grammar police

a virgin; he doesn’t know what to do but fakes confidence like he does (it makes your first time a bit awkward but just talk him through it, babe)

humbles you without meaning to

over explains if you broach a subject he likes

sassy

just stares at you when you try to flirt with him

eustass kid

pros:

scary boyfriend privilege

an absolute beast in bed

insanely good kisser

raspy morning voice

you get to use his boobies as a pillow

is very smart but kinda dumb

eats pussy like a starved man

will always save you some food (it’s how he shows he cares)

cons:

dramatic

hangs out with killer more than you

will put the milk carton back in the fridge even if it’s empty

you can never be mad at him or make him mad because he’s the biggest asshole ever

ignores you if you’re fighting

zones out while you’re talking

if you send him a long, thoughtful text, he’ll respond back with ‘k’

what’s his is his and what’s yours is his

donquixote rosinante

pros:

walk. him. like. a. dog.

possessive over you, especially around his brother

would protect you with his last dying breath

absolute romantic

probably writes you poems

gentle giant, is so careful and soft with you

amazing cook despite accidentally setting himself on fire

has the patience of a god, once again, because of his brother

cons:

clumsy

you have to keep a fire extinguisher with you at all times

you can’t get the smoke smell out of his clothes

he’s so tall you can’t kiss normally, he has to pick you up

whiny

silent treatment

covers up his farts with his devil fruit and you don’t realize it until it stinks

has really bad resting bitch face (literally goes from :| to :) in .03 seconds)

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated (✿◠‿◠)

[pholla-jm]

Say My Name

IMAGINE: SAY MY NAME~ LUFFY X READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: not proof read. use of (y/n). ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luffy has gone by many names.

 Monkey D. Luffy. 

Mugiwara. Strawhat Luffy. 

Lucy.

Luffy tarou.

Captain. 

Or simply Straw Hat. 

He doesn’t mind any of the names that he is called. 

However, that changed when you joined the crew. 

You always called him Captain, and he didn’t mind that. But he grew to hate. Why? Well it all started when he paid attention to how you interacted with the rest of the crew. 

“Hey Nami! Do you want to paint nails together?” You call out to her, holding out a new tube of nail polish. Nami smiles brightly at your requests and nods her head. 

Luffy first noticed that you called her by her name, and not by her title. 

“Zoro, can you move your weights please?” You call out to him. Since you were bored, you wanted to clean the area. But his weights were in the way. “Just clean around it.” 

Luffy watches the scene, head tilted. Wondering why you didn’t call him by his title. 

Later, when the crew was finished with dinner, you had stayed behind. So did Luffy, waiting to see if there was more food. 

“Hey, Sanji. Mind if I help with dishes?” You ask. “Oh no, my dear. You shouldn’t sully your hands. You should head to bed, get a good night's rest.” You smile fondly at the cook, “thank you. Goodnight.” 

You turn to see your Captain, “good night, captain.” “ night.” He responds, deep in thought. 

It went on like this for days, weeks, and almost months. Hearing you call out everyone’s names. “Robin” “Usopp.” “Chopper.” “Franky.” “Brook.” 

And yet. When it came to him, it was just Captain. Never Luffy, and he was getting quite frustrated at this point. He just wanted to hear his name from you at least once.

So when you were by yourself on night watch he decided to take the initiative. He stretches himself up onto the crows nest. 

Upon hearing the familiar sound of rubber stretching, you turn around to greet your Captain. 

“Hey Captain, what brings you here? Shouldn’t you be sleeping or something?” 

“Why don’t you ever say my name?” He got straight to the point. 

You stare at him in confusion, “What are you talking about? I do say it, captain.” The captain pouts his lips, “no. That’s not my name. It’s just a title.” 

“Well, yeah. And that title is your name.” “But you never call anyone else by their title.” “Hm, well I was just raised this way. You’re the captain and this is just how I’m showing my respect for you.” 

Luffy hums in response with a thoughtful look on his face. 

“As your captain, I want you to call me by my real name. Captain's orders.” He smiles at you like he just found the biggest loophole, “you have to respect that, ya know?” 

You just laugh and shake your head. “Fine, I'll start calling you by your real name.” 

He looks at you, waiting for you to mutter the simple word from your mouth. However, it is silent. And the both of you are just staring at each other. 

“Oh, you mean now?” 

Luffy nods his head. 

“Okay…. Luffy. I’ll start calling you by your name.” 

A huge grin breaks out on his face. He didn’t know that hearing his name from you would be so… addicting. The way you said it sounded so smooth and alluring. It drew him in, and he definitely wanted more. You had a slight accent so his name sounded a bit different. However, he still liked it. 

“Say it again.” 

“Huh?” You laugh, “why?” “Just say it again. Please.” 

“Okay, Luffy. I’ll say your name as many times as you want.” 

He took that quite literally. 

“Again.” 

“Luffy.” “Again.” “Luffy.” 

Every time you would say his name he would get closer and closer to your face. Almost like if he got closer, he could somehow hear his name better. Every time he got closer, your face would get redder and redder. Your noses were basically touching, and you could feel his breath fan against your lips. 

“Again.” 

“Uh, Luffy. What are you doing?” “I want to keep hearing you say my name forever.” 

You nervously laugh, afraid to even speak out loud since he was still so close. “Luffy, we have all the time in the world. You can hear it whenever you want.” You whisper.

He purses his lips and pulls back slightly. “You’re right. Just one more time, please?” “Okay, one more time. It’s time for you to go to bed, Luffy.” 

Luffy’s face turns into a smile, “okay. Thank you (y/n).” 

You don’t respond. You just smile at him and watch him departure for the crow’s nest.

[ortegahaze]

anyone but you

[part one] | part two | part three | part four |

pairing: Tara Carpenter x gn!reader

synopsis: Tara and you, despite having mutual friends, have never met—until a Blackmore University fraternity party brings your paths together. The night is amazing, but the next morning is a disaster, and both of you hope never to see each other again. What you didn’t anticipate is that your best friends are getting married, and now you'll be forced to spend time together at their destination wedding.

warnings: no ghostface au, mentions of alcohol, fluff in the beginning, angst, bad writing, language, slight change in characters' age, mentions of a dead parent, “enemies” to lovers!

a/n: yes yes, totally inspired by the movie anyone but you, if you haven’t watched it, there will be spoilers. not sure if i liked this first chapter that much, next ones will be better, i promise🤞🏼

word count: 5,8k

—

Tara Carpenter loved to party, but mostly because she would always attend the fraternity houses’ parties with her friends who also attended Blackmore University. Unfortunately for her, it seemed that all her usual companions decided to skip the party tonight without bothering to tell her until the last minute.

There she was, dressed up as a pirate, frowning at her phone where her friends’ messages popped up, saying they wouldn’t be going. That was it—the start of a terrible Friday night. She considered going back home, feeling like a sad loser. But she knew exactly what awaited her there: Sam and Danny probably making out on the couch—or worse. Huffing, she shoved her phone into her back pocket, mustering the courage to enter the Omega Kappa Beta party by herself.

The music was loud, but good. Everyone was enjoying it with red cups held high. She made her way to the trashed kitchen, searching for something strong to help her loosen up and forget that her best friends had abandoned her for the night.

After three cups, she was already stumbling. The loud bass thumped through her chest, her head spinning just enough to make her a bit queasy. Needing a break, she headed for the pool area, which seemed quieter and less chaotic.

She slumped down onto one of the chairs, letting the cool night air hit her face. Maybe this night wasn’t a total disaster, but it sure wasn’t the wild, fun night she had imagined. She closed her eyes, the alcohol swirling in her system, trying to relax.

“Tara?” A voice interrupted her thoughts.

Opening her eyes and looking up, she saw a guy standing beside her. He had a kind of frat-boy look—probably one of the OKB members. Despite being a sophomore law student, Tara had never bothered to learn the names of these guys.

“Yeah?” she mumbled, squinting against the pool lights.

“You good?” the guy asked, concern creasing his forehead.

“Yeah, just… letting the alcohol wear off.” She slurred slightly, trying to sound more sober than she felt. The guy didn’t seem convinced but smiled anyway, offering his hand.

“I’m Frankie,” he said.

She hesitated before shaking his hand, her mind sluggish but wary. “Tara,” she replied.

He motioned toward the house. “You want some water? I can grab some for you in the kitchen.”

She nodded, standing up to follow him. “Yeah, that’d be nice,” she mumbled. Something felt off, but she pushed the thought away, blaming the alcohol for making her overly cautious.

As they walked back toward the house, she noticed fewer people by the pool. It was quieter, the conversations distant. That’s when Frankie spoke up again. “You know what? I have a minibar in my room. We can grab water there, and you can use the bathroom too if you need it.”

Tara’s stomach dropped. The convenient offer set off alarm bells in her head, her instincts kicking in despite the fog of alcohol. Why was he suddenly suggesting his room?

Before she could respond, someone stepped up next to Frankie, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, babe. I was looking for you! I finished my set for the night. We can go home now,” the stranger said smoothly.

She blinked, processing the situation. What?

Frankie glanced at the newcomer’s hand, visibly confused. “Uh…”

“I can see you’ve already met my girlfriend, Frankie,” the stranger continued with a casual smile. “That’s great, but we’ve gotta go now. She’s been having trouble sleeping lately, so I think it’s time we head out. Thanks for taking care of her while I was working tonight.”

Tara felt the stranger’s arm slip around her shoulder. The warmth and casualness of the embrace was oddly comforting, even though she had no idea who this person was. Still, she went along with the act, instincts telling her to trust this stranger over Frankie.

“Yeah, thanks, Frankie,” Tara echoed awkwardly. “We… uh… have to get going.”

Intertwining her fingers with the stranger’s, Tara took the first step, guiding them away from Frankie. Her heart raced—not from fear, but from the strangeness of the whole situation. She wasn’t used to needing to be rescued, especially not by someone who appeared out of nowhere.

When they were far enough from Frankie and back in the kitchen, Tara dropped the stranger’s hand. “Thank you… That was really nice of you.”

“Happy to help,” you replied, rummaging through the fridge. “Frankie’s not the type to handle rejection well, if you know what I mean… and by the look on your face, you were about to reject him.”

Tara flushed, embarrassment creeping up her neck. She wasn’t used to being seen as vulnerable. She hated feeling like she couldn’t handle herself. “Yeah, I was,” she admitted, brushing off her embarrassment with a small smile. “Thanks again.”

The stranger turned around, holding a bottle of water. “No problem. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You extended a hand.

She shook it, noticing how your grip was firm yet gentle. “I’m Tara,” she replied, her voice a little quieter this time. She found herself holding onto your hand for a bit too long before quickly letting go, feeling the touch linger longer than it should have. She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. “Uh, is there a bathroom around here?”

You pointed down the hallway. “Yeah, just down there.”

“Thanks,” Tara muttered, handing over the water and heading to the bathroom. Leaving you confused as you stand there with her water. Waiting.

She shut the door behind her and sat on the toilet seat, immediately pulling out her phone while peeing. Her fingers trembled slightly, the adrenaline of the night still buzzing through her as she quickly dialed Mindy. When Mindy picked up, Tara didn’t even wait for a greeting.

“Mindy, I just met this person, and I don’t know… It was something. They saved me from what could’ve been a really messy situation. But like… now what? I don’t even know them, but there was this… connection? Ugh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m overthinking it.” Tara paused, shaking her head at her own words. “I gotta go. I’ll call you back.”

Tara finished washing her hands and looked at herself in the mirror, her brown eyes staring back. She took a deep breath, brushing her fingers lightly over her fringe, as if steadying herself. "Okay," she whispered, gathering her resolve.

Stepping out of the bathroom, she navigated back toward the kitchen, dodging a couple passionately making out near the door, grimacing slightly as she passed them. Her eyes scanned the room until they locked onto yours, and she couldn’t help but smile awkwardly when you handed her the bottle of water.

“Your water,” you said, grinning.

“Thanks.” She took it, and for a moment, the two of you held each other’s gaze, a silent understanding passing between you. You started to say something, but she beat you to it, breaking the silence with a small, resigned smile.

“Well, I think I should call it a night,” she said with a soft sigh. “I’ve had my share of excitement.”

Your smile faltered just a bit, but you quickly recovered, masking any disappointment. As she moved to leave, you hesitated, your mind racing. You turned, watching her head toward the entrance, and something compelled you to act.

“Hey…” you called, stepping quickly after her. She paused, turning with a curious look.

“So, are you gonna ask me out now?” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes as she interrupted whatever you’d been about to say. Her comment took you by surprise, but you broke into a smile, catching onto the playful challenge in her tone.

“Yeah,” you replied, mirroring her smile. “Yeah, I am.” You both shared a quick laugh, then walked toward the door together, side by side.

As you walked out into the night, Tara looked up at you, her curiosity piqued. “You know… I go to a lot of these parties. How come I’ve never seen you around?”

Stuffing your hands into your pockets, you chuckled. “I’m not a student anymore. Graduated last year, but a friend of mine who still goes here got me to DJ tonight.” You let out a wry laugh. “Of course, he didn’t even bother showing up.”

She smirked. “Oh, sounds familiar. My friends did the same to me tonight.”

The streets were mostly empty, with the city’s usual hum softened at this late hour. Streetlights cast long shadows that flickered as you walked, and a few blocks away from the chaos of the party, Tara seemed more grounded, though her steps were still a bit unsteady from the alcohol.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence as you walked alongside her. “What about you? What do you study?”

Tara hugged herself, more from a sense of vulnerability than the chill in the air. She glanced over at you, her expression guarded but curious. “I study law.” she replied, then added reluctantly. Her voice had an almost clipped quality, and you noticed the way she quickly redirected the conversation. “And you? What’s your story?”

Noticing her attempt to shift the topic, you chuckled. “I started out in computer science. That’s what my parents wanted, and it sounded like a solid career, so I went with it for a while. Did a couple of semesters.”

“Computer science?” She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “Didn’t peg you for the type to spend your days coding.”

“Neither did I,” you admitted, giving her a wry smile. “Eventually, I couldn’t stand it. I switched over to music production—that’s what I’d always wanted to do anyway.”

She nodded, seemingly intrigued despite herself. “I bet your parents weren’t thrilled with the change, huh?”

You shrugged, eyes on the sidewalk ahead. “Not at first. But eventually, they came around. And if worse comes to worst, I can always fall back on tech if I need to.”

Tara’s interest was clearly piqued as she glanced at you thoughtfully. “So, you just sit in a studio with those fancy soundboards?”

You laughed. “Something like that. Mostly, though, it’s me with my laptop, some recording equipment, and way too much caffeine. But I love it—taking random sounds and turning them into something people can connect to.”

She seemed to admire your passion, though she tried to keep her expression casual. “Sounds like you actually went after what you wanted,” she mused, almost to herself.

You smiled at her comment, feeling the quiet camaraderie that had formed between you. “So… you want to keep hanging out for a bit? My place isn’t far from here. I’d offer coffee, but it’s a bit late for that. I make a killer grilled cheese, though.”

Tara raised an eyebrow, both surprised and amused. “Inviting a girl you just met over for grilled cheese? That’s bold.”

You rubbed the back of your neck, grinning. “I like to think so. But no pressure. If you’d rather call it a night, I get it.”

She paused, considering the offer. The sincerity in your expression was unmistakable, and after the strange night she’d had, she found herself craving something simple, something real. With a nod, she finally agreed, letting a genuine smile slip through.

“Alright,” she replied, matching your smile with a smirk. “Let’s see if you’ve got any real culinary skills.”

The two of you continued down the quiet streets, the city’s glow casting a soft light as you walked together. The conversation flowed easily, shifting from one topic to the next as you shared bits and pieces of yourselves.

The conversation moved from childhood stories to other random facts—Tara mentioned she used to collect keychains, and you told her about the time you accidentally broke into the wrong apartment while trying to help a neighbor. The night air carried your laughter, mingling with the rustling leaves and the distant hum of traffic.

—

The two of you stood near the kitchen counter, your movements methodical as you crafted the grilled cheese the way you always did—spreading butter on the bread and layering two slices of cheese. After adding butter to the skillet, you waited for it to melt before placing the sandwich on it, flipping it with the spatula as it browned.

Tara’s eyes wandered around your warehouse-turned-apartment, taking in the cozy but modest space. Music equipment cluttered one corner, while old vinyl records filled the shelves along the walls. She leaned against the counter, her gaze shifting between you and the space, but lingering mostly on you.

“So,” she asked with a playful smirk, “do you invite strangers over for late-night sandwiches often?”

Without looking up from the stove, you chuckled. “Only the ones who look like they’d appreciate my culinary skills. You seemed like the type.”

She rolled her eyes, but a cute smile played on her lips, you could even see her dimples clearly.

As you flipped the sandwich again, the smell filled the small kitchen, and Tara found herself relaxing, slowly letting her guard down in this oddly comforting moment. It had been a long time since she’d experienced a night that felt spontaneous, even a little reckless.

When the sandwich was done, you cut it in half and handed it to her on a plate. “Wait to cool down—” Almost immediately, she bit into it, only to wince and fan her mouth.

“Oh, fuck, that’s hot!” she exclaimed, laughing through the pain between painful chews.

You stifled a laugh. “I literally just took it off the stove. What did you expect?”

“Oh, my God.”

“If you’re gonna be a lawyer, you gotta understand negligence and breach and…” She furrowed her eyebrows and turned her head to look up at you. “McDonald’s versus that lady’s…” You locked eyes with her, noticing her judgmental look. “Habeas corpus.”

Tara chuckled, swallowing carefully. “You absolutely just butchered those terms,” she said, narrowing her eyes and shooting you a mock glare. “Maybe I should represent you in a case against yourself.”

You were both facing each other, holding eye contact as you playfully teased her. “How do you know? You’re not a lawyer yet.” She gave you a disbelieving look. “It’s not too late to choose a more noble profession!”

“Oh, like you?” She nodded toward the computer desk you’d left on from working earlier. You took a bite of the sandwich and followed her gaze.

“You know what? You’re right. Stick with it. I’m gonna need a lawyer to read my contracts at some point.” She chuckled softly. Looking back at her, you smiled.

The two of you stood there, the playful banter bringing warmth to the room that neither of you had expected. She chewed more carefully now, and as she finished the bite, her gaze softened.

“I don’t even know if I want to be a lawyer,” Tara blurted, almost as if she hadn't meant to. She stared at the half-eaten sandwich in her hands, looking embarrassed. “I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”

You paused, unsure how to respond, but instead of words, you gently reached out and wiped a bit of cheese from the corner of her mouth with your thumb. The gesture was intimate, more so than you’d intended, and for a moment, the room seemed to grow quieter.

She sighed, her voice dropping. “My mom’s a lawyer. I thought maybe if I followed in her footsteps, things would make sense. But… I feel like it isn’t really me.”

There was a small silence, but instead of pressing, you just gave her a supportive nod. “You don’t have to figure it all out now.”

She smiled gratefully and took another bite, the tension lifting again as you both relaxed into the conversation. The two of you laughed, easing the awkwardness. You took another bite, an unconscious smile lingering on your face. With Tara around, you almost felt like a different person. She brushed the back of her hand where yours had touched, glancing back at you.

“I’m sorry… My life is a disaster right now.”

“Might be turning a corner,” you shrugged, showing compassion for her struggle, making eye contact again. “You just met me!”

Tara grinned. “Yeah, or I could end up in a suitcase.” You chuckled. “I mean… you’ve got some, uh, serial killer vibes going on here. Why do you have a giant wrench?” She pointed to the large wrench sitting on the vinyl rack. You looked at it and smiled.

“Okay, harsh,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “It wouldn’t be a suitcase. It would be a carry-on, thank you very much. You’re about zero feet tall,” you teased, referencing her small stature. She shot you a light glare, making you smile. You glanced back at the wrench. “And my mom gave me that.” At this, Tara raised her eyebrows, paying closer attention. “It’s a reminder that no matter how broken something is, there’s always a way to fix it.”

She nodded at your words, pressing her lips together and closing her eyes briefly.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m talking to you about my mom right now.” You squinted and shook your head, letting out a small chuckle.

Vulnerability hit you for a moment. You weren’t one to share much about your late mother with friends, let alone 'strangers' like Tara, but something about her made you feel at ease—like you could talk about the topic that usually tightened your chest.

Tara’s gaze softened. “No worries. That’s actually kind of sweet,” she smiled gently. “Now, tell me about that!” She pointed to an ATM machine in the corner, raising an eyebrow.

You smiled and nodded at the machine, which was in perfect condition, the screen still on. “That… is a long story!” You put your sandwich back on the plate and noticed her frowning at you. “Everybody survived!”

“Great!” She laughed, and you followed, the sound echoing through the small apartment. As the laughter died down, Tara took a deep breath, savoring the moment. She felt unexpectedly comfortable there—with you, in your quirky apartment, and with the smell of burnt cheese still lingering in the air.

In your mind, maybe that was the moment you started to hear romantic background music. You bickered and laughed together, even sharing a few silly dance moves in the kitchen after getting some water.

Tara eventually curled up on the sofa as you cleaned up the counter, chatting and laughing loudly from across the room. She teased you about your random quirks, and you responded with good-natured jabs, both of you secretly enjoying the strange, comforting ease. It didn’t take long for you to join her on the couch.

Letting the night unfold, an unexpected bond formed over random topics. Tara eventually settled on your lap, your hands resting on the skin of her waist beneath her silky shirt, facing you. The laughter slowly faded into quieter moments, one of you wrapped around the other. Lingering glances and more meaningful conversations pulled you closer until you both drifted off as dawn approached, feeling more at home than you had in a long time.

Soft morning light filtered through the large living room windows, casting a warm glow across the loft. Tara stirred and blinked awake, feeling a warm weight around her shoulders and waist. She found herself nestled against you, your arm draped over her, your breathing steady and calm.

But the quiet, comfortable intimacy triggered a rush of anxiety in her. Nudging her to move before things got too complicated. She knew she should say something, but no words came, and a sense of urgency pushed her to leave before things got more tangled.

Carefully, she slipped out from under your arm, holding her breath to keep from waking you. With deliberate silence, she stood up to put her shoes on, but one slipped from her hand and fell to the floor, betraying her. She winced and glanced back quickly, not seeing you stir from where she stood.

Your eyes blinked open as you took in the empty space beside you. You craned your neck toward the noise that had woken you, and your expression shifted from confusion to quiet disappointment as you watched her getting ready to leave without so much as a backward glance or goodbye. You held back the urge to say something, but the silence in the room felt suddenly heavy, filled with words left unsaid.

She walked down the stairs to the door, and as it clicked shut behind her, Tara hesitated for the briefest second, almost turning back. But then the weight of the moment became too much to bear. Meanwhile, you leaned back on the couch, staring at the empty space for a long moment, letting the silence settle over you like a heavy blanket.

Eventually, you got up, grabbing fresh clothes to wear before heading back to the living room. You tried to shake Tara from your mind, still feeling the ache of her sudden departure. But as you looked at the wrench, you almost stopped in your tracks. You walked over to it, picking it up in your hands and recalling how you had shared a part of your story that only your close friends knew. You thought Tara would stick around, at least for a while.

You didn’t have much more quiet time for introspection before you heard the door open. You turned your head so fast at the sound that you felt a slight disappointment upon realizing it was only your best friend.

His voice echoed up the stairs. “Yo, let's go, Y/N/N! Come on, cupcake! We’re gonna be late!”

“S'up, C?” You sat down in your computer desk chair, still not fully giving him your attention.

Chad stepped inside with his usual boisterous energy, walking around and dropping his bike helmet on the kitchen counter. He glanced at the skillet on the stove, noticing the remnants of last night's grilled cheese.

“Whoa. Did you cook? Wait… did you bring home a girl to stay over?” you didn’t respond, your eyes fixed on the large wrench in your hands, turning it over absentmindedly. Chad moved closer, munching on a leftover piece of grilled cheese as he gave you a puzzled look.

“Dude, what are you doing with that? Why do you have the giant wrench?” He took it from your hands, examining it. After a few seconds, he pieced it together. “Wait—You told her about your mom, bro? You never talk about your mom with anyone.” His tone softened.

You looked toward the door that he left open, a pained smile crossing your face as you didn’t disagree with his assumptions. “Yeah, I did. Not sure what I was thinking.”

Chad let out a low whistle, eyebrows raised. “Fuck. You’ve got it bad, don’t you? You’re in love!” He put the tool back in its place and turned back to you. “About freaking time, too. You’re totally in love!” He squealed the last part, unable to contain his excitement.

Trying to brush it off, you shook your head, a hint of bitterness coloring your tone. “Fuck that. Not that it matters. I couldn’t get her out of here fast enough.” You looked at him with a straight face, attempting to mask the sting of your words. “This girl’s a disaster… she’s a nothing.”

—

Minutes before slipping out of the house, Tara walked along the quiet sidewalk, pulling her phone from her pocket as she dialed Mindy. The line barely rang before Mindy picked up, her voice tinged with early morning sleepiness.

“Tara? What’s going on?”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Sorry to wake you. I just… I don’t know. Remember the person I met last night? They’re… so fucking great, Mindy. We kind of walked around the city, talked, and, I don’t know, we spent the night together and fell asleep talking. It felt… different. Like I didn’t have to keep my guard up.”

“Oh, it was like that, huh?” Mindy’s voice perked up, her interest piqued. “So, what happened after all that?”

A silence stretched between them as Tara paused on the sidewalk. She hesitated, her expression clouded with uncertainty. “I… I left before they woke up.”

Mindy groaned on the other end of the line. “What??? You’re kidding. Why would you just bail? If they’re as great as you’re saying…”

“I don’t know why! Why did I?” Tara blurted, stopping mid-step and glancing back in the direction she’d come from. “What the fuck am I doing? Should I go back?”

“Seems like you already know the answer,” Mindy said gently. “Just go! Find out what this is.”

“Okay, I love you. Bye!” Tara managed a small smile. “I'm so sorry I woke you up. This whole thing is so new to me. Bye!” Her footsteps quickened as she retraced her steps to the building.

“I love you, T. You’ve got this.” Mindy smiled before hanging up, hurrying her steps.

As Tara approached the door, she noticed it was open. Furrowing her eyebrows, she stopped in her tracks when she heard Chad’s familiar voice from inside. His back was facing her, so she didn’t know who the guy was. She certainly wasn’t prepared to hear your sharper tone following in disagreement about you being in love.

“I couldn’t get her out of here fast enough.” “This girl’s a disaster… She’s a nothing.”

The words landed with a crushing weight, stealing her breath and pinning her to the spot. She felt her chest tighten, a surge of hurt and anger rising within her as she turned on her heel and walked away, quickening her pace as if the farther she got, the less it would hurt. She’d let herself be vulnerable, just for a moment, and this was what it had gotten her.

She didn’t stop until she rounded the corner, the city coming to life around her—a stark reminder of the distance she intended to keep. She had allowed herself to believe, just for a moment, that maybe things could be different. But she wouldn’t make that mistake again.

—

Six months had passed since that fateful night, and neither you nor Tara had crossed each other’s paths again. The silence between you both was deafening, leaving nothing but the bitter ache of unfinished business. You had carried on, pretending that the encounter hadn’t left a mark, but you couldn’t shake the lingering memory of Tara slipping away without a word. Each time you tried to forget, the night resurfaced—like a song stuck on repeat. Every quiet moment felt like a reminder that you’d let something slip through your fingers, even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself.

Tara, on the other hand, had moved on—at least, that’s what she told herself. She had rekindled her relationship with Wes, her first love, and now she was engaged to him once again. There was comfort in the familiar, in the steady future she thought they were meant to have. Yet, sometimes, late at night, when she was alone, Tara’s mind wandered back to that night with you. She hated herself for it. She’d tell herself it had been a mistake, a lapse in judgment, but that didn’t stop the quiet tug in her chest—a reminder of vulnerability, of something she couldn’t fully ignore. And so, she buried it deeper, clinging to Wes and the life they were building.

Still, neither of you had expected to meet again—until tonight.

The bar was alive with energy, the thrum of chatter and laughter filling the space. Mindy and Anika had orchestrated the night, inviting everyone out for a casual reunion. You and Chad arrived a little late, fresh from a lively Korean dinner, your usual laid-back attitude masking the subtle undercurrent of tension that had become all too familiar since that night. As you made your way through the bar, exchanging handshakes and hugs, your attention briefly flitted to the crowd. Anika grinned, subtly pointing out a group of attractive girls seated near the bar.

You raised an eyebrow and nudged Chad. “Looks like there’s potential,” you joked, but the moment was fleeting.

Across the room, Tara had just stepped through the door, her heart skipping a beat when she spotted her best friend waving her over. She smiled, though it faltered when her eyes scanned the faces in the crowd. Something about tonight felt off—familiar in a way she couldn’t quite place.

Mindy greeted her enthusiastically. “Tara! Get over here!” she called. Tara made her way over, her steps slowing slightly as her gaze settled on Chad… and then it clicked. You were there. Her pulse quickened.

Chad wrapped her in a hug before Mindy nudged him aside, beaming as she gestured between you and Tara. “Y/N, come say hi!” she called, oblivious to the growing tension. “Tara, meet one of my dearest childhood friends,” Anika added with a smile, making it clear that you and she shared a long history.

The second your eyes met Tara’s, the world seemed to stop. For a fleeting moment, neither of you moved, both taken aback by the unexpected confrontation. Tara’s chest tightened. How had you ended up here? She didn’t need this. Not tonight.

Your face hardened, instinctively putting up a wall. “Hey,” you said, your voice flat.

She crossed her arms, her tone equally sharp. “Yeah.”

Mindy’s brows shot up. “Wait, do you two… know each other?”

You answered too quickly. “We’ve met.”

“Barely.” Tara’s reply came just as fast. Her eyes narrowed, the distance between you two palpable.

Anika blinked in surprise. “That’s so random.”

Tara, visibly uncomfortable, nodded toward the bar. “I’m going to get a drink,” she muttered, ready to escape.

You couldn’t resist the smirk forming on your lips. “If you’re looking to sneak out, the exit’s that way. I know that’s kinda your thing.”

The law student spun back to face you, her smile cold. “Well, I am a disaster, right?” Her words were laced with venom, a bitter jab that struck deeper than either of you cared to admit.

The group fell into an uneasy silence, but it didn’t last long. Chad, Anika, and Mindy exchanged wary glances before Mindy spoke up, attempting to diffuse the situation. “Okay! Let’s… let’s move on from this.”

Anika quickly chimed in, “Yeah, let’s head back to the table,” motioning for Chad to follow, though their eyes never left the tension between you and Tara.

You faced each other, the weight of everything left unsaid hanging in the air. The banter between you both was sharp, but beneath it, something more vulnerable flickered. There had once been something here, something deeper than either of you wanted to admit, and even now, in the harshness of your words, that connection lingered—bitter but undeniable.

You leaned in, a smirk tugging at your lips. “So, you a lawyer yet?”

Tara’s arms crossed defensively, her eyes narrowing, trying to shield herself from whatever it was you made her feel. “Why? Do you need a defense attorney?”

“I’m just curious how you passed that class on ethics,” you shot back, your tone cutting but with a hint of something softer beneath the surface. “You know, with all the bailing you do on people.”

Her jaw tightened, but something in her eyes flickered—something that said she understood exactly what you meant. It stung, more than either of you would let on.

Meanwhile, at the table, Chad plopped down, looking confused as ever. Mindy snorted, leaning back in her seat, her eyes darting between you and Tara. “I think that’s the alleged jerk who T got with when she was on her break from Wes.”

Anika’s eyes widened as the pieces clicked together. “No way. So T’s the party girl who ghosted them?”

Chad, still lost in thought, nodded slowly. “I thought she looked familiar when I saw her that day… but, you know, I don’t really see faces. I just see souls.”

Anika chuckled softly, shaking her head. “At least they made her realize Wes was the one, right?”

Back at the war field where you and Tara stood, the tension reached a boiling point. Tara’s jaw clenched as she held her left hand up, displaying the ring—a symbol of the life she was trying so hard to convince herself she wanted. “I’m engaged now,” she said sharply, the words coming out more like a challenge than a statement.

Your expression barely flickered, but deep down, something twisted inside—a pang of something you refused to name. “Good for you,” you replied, forcing a dry smile. “Where are you registered? I’ll buy you a broomstick.”

She scoffed, but her smile was tight, forced. “I’ll send you an invite. You still live at 28 Fuckboy Lane?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, shaking your head. “You do remember. See, it did mean something to you.”

For a moment, something dark and raw flickered in Tara’s eyes, and she took a step closer, her voice dropping to a low whisper filled with venom and regret. “You’ll always be my rock bottom. The night I spent with a bitch.”

Across the bar, Chad squinted, trying to make sense of the distant conversation. “Did she just call Y/N a bitch?”

Anika leaned closer to Mindy, whispering, “Do you think they’re going to physically fight?”

Mindy smirked, her gaze flicking between the two of you. “Or fuck. That’s a fine line.”

Back at the standoff, Tara’s words softened, though the bitterness still lingered. “Let’s just get through tonight for them, okay?”

You gave her a slow nod, your face unreadable but your heart tight. “Fine. I’m getting a drink, and I’ll toast to never seeing you again.” Your words were sharp, but the way you leaned closer, the tension buzzing between you, said otherwise.

Tara met your eyes, her lips curling into a slight, almost playful smile. “Cheers to that, bro.”

You were nearly nose-to-nose, the heat of your proximity almost suffocating when Mindy, Anika, and Chad appeared at your sides, gently pulling you both out of the intensity of the moment.

Mindy spoke first, her voice cutting through the tension with excitement. “Hey, guys, listen up. We actually have some big news.”

Anika’s eyes sparkled as she squeezed Mindy’s hand. “Hey, so the reason we brought you all together—we’re getting married. In Australia. And you’re all coming with us!” The couple squealed frantically.

Both you and Tara blinked in shock, the animosity between you momentarily forgotten, replaced by a different kind of weight. Australia. A wedding. A trip where you would all be together—where you would have to see each other, to deal with everything that still lay between you. There was no running from it now. You were bound by your friends, by the promises of a wedding that would force you both to face what had been left unresolved.

The room seemed to close in, and though the words hung unsaid, you both knew that this was only the beginning of a confrontation you couldn’t escape. For better or worse, you were going to have to deal with each other—whether you liked it or not.

[sanarsi]

Date with a Rockstar

rockstar!Frankie Morales x f!Reader

Part 1 of Sex, Drugs and Rock’n’Roll Series

Summary: Frankie finally manages to invite you for a drink. Unfortunately, things go wrong and he ends up in jail. Warnings: +18, MDNI, protected PIV (implant), pussy eating (no one’s surprised, king will always be king), semi-public sex, car sex (on top! woah), creampie, soft!dom!Frankie, fight, blood, being arrested, mention of attempted rape, use of date rape drug (not by our sweet boy duh) Wordcount: 6,5k An: Without lying to anyone, I have to admit that Frankie is my personal favorite. He's just so gentle and sweet ughhh where's my Frankie :’( Anyway, I hope you like this version of him bc I really enjoyed this one! Music I worked with: Arabella - Arctic Monkeys

Masterlist

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time. Today you tried harder than usual. You were desperate to finally catch attention of the sexy bassist, who kept sending you glances.

You were desperate enough to put on one of the shortest dresses you had in your closet. You were desperate enough to put on lipstick that had been lying forgotten in your bag for months. You were desperate enough, that your gaze pierced through even your own reflection.

You looked good.

More than just good. You looked sexy.

Sexy enough that when you walked towards the bar, everyone gave you a slightly too long looks. It was a good feeling. Every glance, tickled your ego more and more, making you feel confident.

The clatter of your heels was your only anchor the moment you entered the crowded bar, and the melancholic aura hit all your senses at a dizzying pace. You had already gotten used to the atmosphere that reigned here. The stuffiness, loud music and barely functioning lighting. With time, you could even admit that you liked being here. It was a nice break from your rigid reality.

Here, no one knew you. None of your friends even knew about this place. No wonder, you came here especially from the other end of town.

You came especially for him.

A slightly withdrawn, sweet bassist with big puppy eyes, who played with his band every Thursday.

You immediately headed towards the bar, glancing at the band that was currently entertaining the small crowd. You winced at the squeaky voice of the vocalist and quickly moved to the other end of the room.

The bartender gave you a quick glance, smiling immediately when he saw the familiar face. You smiled back and, avoiding a collision with the slightly tipsy guy, stood at the bar, leaning against the counter.

“I thought I wouldn’t see you here today,” he asked casually, preparing a drink at the same time. You shrugged, watching as he skillfully mixed everything in the shaker.

Al, because that was his name, was the only one who kept you company during your weekly visits. You could say that you became somewhat friends. He was nice, funny and scared away the pests that sometimes hung around you.

“I thought you got to know me a little by now, Al,” you teased with a smirk. You both focused your attention on the drink he handed to some woman, after which he began pouring beer into two mugs.

“Oh yeah,” he snorted in amusement. “You couldn’t miss your Romeo’s concert,” he began, teasing you. You laughed, shaking your head and glanced towards the stage before focusing your attention on him again.

“Quite a lot of traffic,” you said to start a casual conversation. The man immediately perked up, snorting under his breath and mumbling a quiet ‘yeah’ before handing you a glass of cola. He had learned that trying to talk you into a drink never brought the desired result. You thanked him quietly and took a sip.

"They've been coming here like pigs to a barn since morning." You snorted, almost spitting out your drink, starting to choke, to which he just gave you an amused look. "It's Thursday, for fuck's sake. People don't go to work on Fridays or something?" he continued, serving another customer.

He gave a forced smile to the girl who gave him the tip, winking flirtatiously. All she had to do was turn her back to him, and he immediately rolled his eyes in boredom. He looked at you tiredly and finally had a moment to breathe. He reached for the drink hidden under the counter and took a large sip with relief. "These cunts have been after me since morning, too," he muttered, looking around the room.

"Oh stop it, they're just nice."

"Horny," he corrected you, raising his eyebrows when he returned his gaze to you. You nodded, taking another sip.

"True," you said, "but you can't blame them. You don't look like you're on the other side of the force," you explained, pointing at him with your hand. He looked at you with amusement and then snorted.

"Is that what it's called now? The other side of the force?" he asked, pushing himself away from the counter. “God, I really am getting old,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head with a wide smile, and began serving the next customer.

You turned around, leaning your back against the counter and began to watch the people dancing. It amused you that some people could dance to such crappy music. No offense, the new band that had been playing here for a week just sucked really bad.

"They're bad, aren't they?" A male voice rang out from near you.

You glanced to the side and almost had a heart attack when you saw the man you came here for. Your heart started beating so fast that you almost choked on air.

He was standing, leaning against the counter, maybe a meter away from you, watching the band with the same amusement as you had just a moment ago.

A mug of beer occupied his hand as his fingers slowly ran over the wet glass. You swallowed hard, observing his profile. Slightly disheveled hair under a baseball cap, an aquiline nose and a strong jaw covered with stubble.

Fuck, he was so damn handsome.

Your silence made him look at you and he slowly took a drink of beer. Dark eyes shone like two lanterns in the middle of the ocean. But they couldn't save you from drowning in his gaze. He licked his lips from the hop aftertaste and took a step towards you. You tried to breathe as quietly as possible because you had the impression that you started to pant at the sight of the sweet smile that appeared on his lips.

"Frankie Morales," he introduced himself, extending his hand towards you.

"I know."

Silence fell between you.

You stared at him, not even being aware of what you had just said. Only when he raised an eyebrow in amusement, gave you a sobering slap on the cheek. You closed your eyes, sighing in embarrassment at your behavior.

"I mean-" you started, wanting to somehow get out of the uncomfortable situation you had put yourself in. But his quiet laugh immediately made you fall silent, looking at him as if enchanted. He had a damn charming laugh.

"No, it's okay, I understand," he said, relaxing the whole atmosphere in a second.

Your stomach clenched pleasantly when you finally smiled gently and gave him your hand, introducing yourself. And maybe you were going crazy, but his hand held yours much longer than the situation required. Where he touched you, he left a trail of shivers that stirred your blood to such a state, that you immediately had to drink to cool yourself down.

Frankie leaned against the counter next to you, watching your every move, especially the way your lips formed against the glass, leaving a trace of lipstick behind.

"So..." he began slowly, deep down pleased by your reaction. "I see you here often. You come every Thursday, right?" he asked, wanting to start a conversation.

You nodded, setting the glass down and licking your wet lips. "Yeah."

His smirk only widened. He glanced at the bartender who was sending you not-so-subtle glances.

"I guess not to listen to them." He nodded towards the stage received an amused snort from you in response. He smiled, revealing his teeth as you looked at him with a furrowed brow and a sweet smile.

"No."

"I thought so," he laughed quietly and took a sip of his beer.

This was your chance.

You were finally talking to him.

You could finally show him that you were interested.

"Actually, I'm coming for your band," you said, looking towards the stage to calm the feeling of stress that was starting to grow unwanted in your chest.

"Yeah?" he asked, and for the first time, his gaze traveled down your body. He subtly lingered longer on your exposed thighs and he immediately felt saliva welling up in his mouth.

"Mhm," you hummed, nodding. You looked at him the moment he tore his gaze away from your body and felt a wave of heat as you realized you had his attention.

You knew your slutty dress would do the trick.

"Then you're missing out." You fell silent, staring at him incredulously. You mumbled a quiet, ‘huh’, as he took a sip of beer instead of immediately explaining what he meant. "We're much better at rehearsals."

"Rehearsals?" you frowned, still not understanding what he was talking about.

Did they have any rehearsals that you didn't know about? Did they play on different days? Al would have told you, right?

"Yeah, in the guys' garage, we get carried away more," he explained. But that only caused more confusion. Frankie saw it immediately and straightened up, quickly continuing.

There was no way he had become so hopeless at flirting.

"I mean," he snorted nervously and scratched the back of his neck. "That you should see it. If you're coming here for us, then you should witness a real show." He felt the stress starting to eat him up from the inside.

Why was he even nervous? He was good at it. He never had a problem with flirting.

The only problem was that this time his intention wasn't just to get you into bed.

"Sure," you smiled brightly, and a heavy weight immediately fell from his heart. He sighed with relief and whispered quietly, ‘cool’.

The sight of him like that, gave you a flock of butterflies in your stomach. He was just as stressed as you were, which gave you a strange sense of security. Suddenly it wasn't awkward anymore. You just stood there looking at each other with smiles, feeling the flow of warmth between your bodies.

“Shall I give you my number?” you suggested, raising an eyebrow as he continued to stand there without a word. Your question snapped him out of his suspended animation.

“Oh. Yes, please,” he nodded eagerly, to which you giggled quietly and looked away, searching for Al. Your attention focused on him, immediately drawing him like a magnet.

It wasn’t like he had been watching you from the very beginning, just waiting for some sign that you needed him.

“Do you have a piece of paper and a pen?” you asked, and you didn’t have to say anything more. He started rummaging under the counter and in a few seconds he put everything you asked for in front of you. You smiled gratefully, to which he winked at you and left.

“You’ve become friends in these two months,” Frankie noticed, watching you write down a series of numbers on a small, pink piece of paper.

“Yes, he’s a sweetheart,” you nodded, writing down the last two numbers, but before you lifted the pen from the paper, you felt waves of shivers. Two months.

He knew since you started coming here. He’d been watching you from the very beginning.

Your heart sped up as, without giving anything away, you folded the piece of paper and held it out to him.

“Thanks.” He smiled and took the note, deliberately touching your fingers. Such a small gesture caused a powerful wave of electricity that went straight between your thighs. You held back a moan and sighed quietly instead.

Applause echoed through the bar, so you both looked towards the stage, where the band was just leaving. You both knew what that meant.

“Hey, listen…” Frankie began, feeling a surge of adrenaline. He had to hurry to get to the stage on time. “Would you like to grab a drink after our set?” he asked much more confidently.

“With you?” You smiled wider, feeling like you had won the lottery. Your reaction was everything he could have wanted.

“Yeah I…” he trailed off and glanced towards the stage, where his friends were starting to line up. Pope’s gaze met his, signaling him to hurry up. “You know… I don’t really like sharing,” he finished, glancing at your smiling face. You looked cute. He regretted that he had no time to talk to you longer, but he sincerely hoped that everything would go his way and he could enjoy you later. And your gaze clearly told him that you would gladly let him enjoy you, not just over a drink.

“Okay,” you nodded, biting your lip, which didn’t go unnoticed by him. And it certainly didn’t go unnoticed by his dick.

Fuck, he regretted that he had to go on stage right now.

“Okay,” he repeated, holding your gaze until the sound of a microphone being set up echoed through the room. “I have to go,” he said, as if it wasn’t obvious enough for both of you.

You laughed sweetly at the energy that bubbling inside him. “Okay,” you nodded again.

“Okay,” he replied with a smile, starting to walk backwards towards the stage. You watched with amusement as people moved out of his way so he wouldn’t step on them, until he disappeared into the crowd, only to jump on stage a moment later. You snorted at the sight and took a sip of your cola.

“I thought he’d never dare to approach you,” Al said from behind you. You looked at him with a satisfied smile.

“The dress worked,” was all you said before the sound of guitar and drums echoed through the bar.

The concert had been going on for an hour, gathering more and more people under the stage. The later hour meant more and more customers. Al was busy, fulfilling several orders at once, so you were forced into the company of some guy who wouldn't leave you alone. Bored, you listened as he talked about his vacation in Asia, glancing at Frankie every now and then.

You saw the sweat glistening on his forehead as he watched his fingers play the strings. Every now and then his gaze would meet yours, and the smile he gave you would make you feel warmer and warmer. Only because of that, were you able to endure the company of a self-absorbed idiot, who thought that talking about how rich he was would somehow impress you. You were allergic to poseurs, and he was like a living example from the textbook „HOW TO AVOID LOSERS”.

Frankie had just started playing a solo, so you couldn't tear your eyes away from him, even if you wanted to. The voice of the man next to you stopped reaching your ears the moment the sounds of the bass guitar cut through the space.

You loved watching how devoted Frankie played. You could watch him for hours. Just like he could you.

That's what he did.

And that's why his heart beat faster when he saw something and that probably saved your life.

His smile disappeared and his fingers stopped plucking the strings. You frowned at his strange behavior. He looked in your direction, but his gaze was absent. But you quickly got answers to your unasked questions.

Frankie handed the guitar to Pope, not even looking to see if he aimed for his hand. People squealed in surprise when he jumped off the stage and began pushing through the crowd. Your heart beat faster when you saw him walking towards you. But his gaze was... different. He was furious. You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling a sudden wave of stress.

He was furious.

But why would he-

Then everything happened too fast for you to react.

Frankie walked past without even looking at you and clenched his fists on the guy's shirt. You jumped on the spot as he pulled him towards himself and threw him to the ground. The poser, whose name you couldn't even remember, was in as much shock as you were, so he didn't even have time to start defending himself as Frankie sat on him, pinning him to the ground with his weight. And then the first punch fell.

His fist connected with the guy's cheek, making him groan in pain. You covered your mouth with your hand, looking at everything in shock, and jumped on the spot as another punch split his lip and his blood appeared on the floor. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you watched Frankie ruthlessly deliver punch after punch. The guy underneath him, groaning in pain, spitting out another portion of blood. People gathered around, watching the spectacle, having a great time.

And you were terrified. You were shaking inside, paralyzed with fear.

Another punch.

His fist was bloody and furiously red from the force with which he punched his opponent's face. And when you gathered the courage to speak up and try to stop it all, his snarl froze you.

"She wasn't interested so you decided to rape her?"

You immediately looked at your glass and noticed in shock that at the bottom, there was something that was slowly dissolving. Cold sweat poured over your body as you realized what you were the victim of.

A rape pill.

"Fuckin’ son of a bitch," Frankie growled, and when you looked at him again, you saw him wiping blood from his lip, which was now cut. The almost unconscious guy had somehow managed to land one punch. But that was all he did.

It was his face that was all blue and bloody. He was the one lying there, barely breathing.

“Frankie,” you whispered in a trembling voice. And despite the chaos around you, he heard you without a problem. He looked at you, breathing heavily, his fist stopped halfway to deliver another punch.

The guy under him coughed, choking on blood, and suddenly three policemen appeared out of nowhere. People in a panic cleared a path for them to get to the very center of the action. And then Frankie was the one lying on the ground, crushed by a cop’s knee. He winced at the unnecessary force they used to overpower him, because he had surrendered without any resistance. Two policemen were collecting what was left of the beaten man from the ground, and the third was handcuffing Frankie. Only that sound tore you out of your stupor.

You watched as the policeman, not very gently, pulled him up and yanked him when he heard his groan of dissatisfaction. With your heart in your throat, you approached them. You were terrified by the whole situation and Frankie noticed it right away. He gave you a smirk and a wink to calm you down.

But that only made the policeman more nervous, so he jerked him again.

"You're happy by the fact that you kicked some guy's ass?" he growled with venom, to which he only smiled wider and licked the cut on his lip. His gaze didn't leave your eyes for a moment; big, shiny eyes that looked at him with confusion.

"I would have killed him if you hadn't stopped me," he replied confidently. You didn't want to believe it, but the seriousness with which he said it exerted the opposite emotions in you.

"We'll see if you're so brave at the police station." And he jerked him again, this time heading towards the exit of the bar.

"Where are you taking him?" you asked loudly, drawing the cop's attention. He glanced at you and his gaze raked down your body with disapproval. Son of a bitch. “I have a right to know, I’m his fiancée,” you added, lifting your chin higher.

Frankie looked at you with amusement and pride. You were so damn sexy when you acted like that.

The cop looked skeptically from you to your fiancé and rolled his eyes. “State police,” he said casually and that was all you saw of him.

Frankie disappeared, and right after him, the whole band. They didn’t seem too bothered as they mumbled the words, ’we need to get him out again’. Again.

Then there were only formalities. You sat on a bar stool answering more questions from one of the policemen. The footage from the cameras and your statements gave the green light to a possible quick bailout of Frankie from custody.

You felt extremely guilty about what had happened, so when you heard the words, ’That’s it. If we have more questions, we’ll contact you’, you almost ran out of the bar.

You probably broke most of the traffic laws when you drove towards the state police station, but it was late, so the streets were almost empty. Luckily, you didn't kill anyone on the way and you made it in one piece.

Apart from your heart beating too fast and your thoughts racing, you were in quite great shape.

You got out of the car and ran towards the police station as fast as your heels would allow you. However, you quickly stopped halfway when you heard loud laughter, which after a moment became faces.

The whole band was just leaving the building, talking loudly with wide smiles on their faces. Everyone was in great spirits, including Frankie. He laughed like a child when he got another punch in the ribs and another warning that next time he'd be behind bars all night.

Pope noticed you first and his smile turned into a smirk as he looked at Frankie and whistled in appreciation.

"For a chick like this, even I would go to jail," he commented, which caught the attention of the rest of the men.

Everyone started looking around until they finally landed on you. Each of them looked down your body and Ben was the only one to nod with cessation, for which he got a punch in the stomach from his brother.

"What?" he groaned but in response he only got a warning look.

You tensed, feeling everyone's eyes on you but then Frankie looked over Ben's shoulder, your attention immediately focused only on him. Shock flew across his face at the sight of you but he quickly smiled and pushed through them. You noticed how everyone exchanged knowing glances with each other, then Tom patted him on the shoulder.

"We’ll leave you here," he said then smiled pleasantly in your direction. You watched as everyone started to walk away, with stupid smiles on their faces.

"Thanks guys!" Frankie shouted but didn't even look in their direction. Only you were able to see Pope wave at him, also not looking at him. You raised an eyebrow with a smile, watching this comical situation but when your gaze fell on the man in front of you again, you became a little more serious.

Stress clenched your stomach as all the events that had happened in such a short time started to come back to you. You swallowed the lump in your throat seeing him take a step towards you.

"I'm sorry for what happened," you blurted out in one breath, making him stop halfway into the next step. He frowned and only then did he notice how stressed you were.

"You have nothing to apologize to me for. It wasn't your fault that some motherfucker slipped some shit into your drink," he said seriously and you felt waves of cold shivers again. It was only when he said it, that it started to dawn on you how you could have ended up if it wasn't for him.

“You ended up in jail because of me,” you added, still feeling guilty.

Frankie snorted under his breath and spread his hands, looking around.

"As you can see, I'm not in it anymore," he noticed, which managed to make you smile a little.

Half the battle.

He slowly walked closer to you with a gentle smile and a tender look. Your heart began to beat faster when he stopped in front of you. Your gaze immediately fell on the cut on his lip and in a rush of something strange, you raised your hand and gently touched the small wound. Electricity passed under your fingertips from the contact with his heated skin.

"Then I apologize for this," you said and his lips formed a smile under your fingers. You immediately looked up at his eyes, which sparkled with amusement.

"I was only defending my fiancée." The tone he spoke with sent butterflies flying through your stomach. You snorted sweetly under your breath and looked down, causing his smile to widen.

With that one sentence, all the tension and stress melted away into thin air.

“Oh, right,” you nodded, more to yourself than to him, and pulled your fingers away from his lips. “Thank you,” you said politely, and then his hand closed around your wrist, trapping yours a few inches from his face. You inhaled louder, feeling his fingers grip your skin.

He gently but firmly pulled you closer, placing your hand on the back of his neck. You gave in to his movements, wanting to see where this was all leading.

"I guess that's not how you should thank your fiancé," he noted with a smirk and slowly put his arm around your waist and connected your bodies in one movement.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as if you had at least run a marathon. Standing in his arms, you couldn't focus on anything. Your gaze was so damn innocent that Frankie automatically hugged you a little tighter, wanting to protect you from everything around. But now the only thing he could protect you from, was himself.

"The policemen who are watching, are definitely not convinced by our love," he teased with a glint in his eye. You shivered, unconsciously digging your fingers into his neck and glanced towards the police station. You ran your gaze over all the windows, but it was dark everywhere.

“But no one’s looking,” you whispered, as if someone could hear you, and looked at him again. And you almost moaned when he leaned in a little closer to you.

“But someone’s could,” he whispered as well.

You immediately understood what was hidden behind his words and even though you tried, you couldn't stop the smile that spread across your lips.

"Right," you nodded and lifted your other hand, placing it on his cheek the moment he leaned down to connect your lips. You purred feeling his stubble tickle your skin and with a giggle you let his tongue connect with yours. He tasted so damn good and was so gentle that you quickly felt the arousal building between your thighs.

His hands slowly ran over your back and waist, which made you moan softly. And your moan made him sigh before he pressed you harder against his chest. His fingers dug pleasantly into your skin until your blood started to boil.

You slid your fingers into his locks that were tangled on his neck and gently ran your nails over his scalp. This time he moaned softly and deepened the kiss even more. His tongue was in perfect sync with yours, not even trying to dominate you for a moment. It was a completely new feeling and you had to admit, that you fuckin’ loved it.

“So what about that drink?” you asked when he pulled away from you for a moment to catch his breath. You bit your lip with a gentle smile and slowly ran your nails down the back of his neck and Frankie had to admit that he was already having trouble standing when his cock began to painfully dig into his jeans.

He pursed his lips, holding back a groan and nodded eagerly at your offer and he was able to hold out if you wanted to have a drink with him. He was able to wait until you gave him a sign that you wanted to go further.

But then you started walking towards your car, gyrating your hips in front of his face.

A quiet growl escaped his throat as he looked helplessly at the sky, mentally counting to ten to calm down. Only then did he look at you again and damn it, it didn’t work.

He quickly covered the distance between you, calling your name. You managed to unlock the car with the remote before you looked in his direction and his lips immediately attacked yours. You gasped in surprise but gave in without resistance as he forced his tongue into your mouth. His fingers tangled in your hair, holding you against him as he slowly moved forward, pushing you back until you hit the hood of your car. When he pinned you with hips, his hands immediately found their way to your waist, his fingers gripping your flesh tightly. Another moan died in his mouth as you tried to return his kisses with the same fervor.

"I'm sorry," he sighed against your lips, sliding his hands down to your bare thighs and clenching them perfectly under your ass. You shivered, digging your nails into his shoulder. "I don't usually start like this," he said, trying to somehow excuse his behaviour, his lack of restraint, right outside the doors of the police station. You moaned into his mouth as he massaged your thighs intensely, getting closer and closer to their core.

"Me neither," you gasped and then both of you locked eyes.

And you both knew what a fucking bad idea had flown through your heads.

And both of you seemed completely unconcerned about the consequences the moment your lips connected again and his fingers hurriedly began to pull up your dress.

You were acting like stupid teenagers but suddenly it didn't matter. All that mattered now was that he was spreading your thighs with his knee so he could be even closer. And when his hips brushed against yours, you felt how hard he was, how much he wanted to get out of his tight pants because of you. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't leak at the thought of him entering you.

Frankie gasped, grinding against you once more before he pulled away, leaving you breathless. You moaned at the sudden feeling of losing his soft lips on yours, but it quickly passed the moment you saw him kneeling in front of you. You shivered at the sight of his head between your legs and whimpered impatiently. His warm breath fanned your pubic but his lips found their way to your hip. You closed your eyes and gasped at the pleasant waves of warmth that began to spread through your body, from every place he kissed.

He slid from hip to your thigh and his warm tongue combined with his scratching beard were already taking you to the heights of pleasure. Oh, it had definitely been too long since anyone had touched you. Or maybe it was Frankie who had such an effect on you.

You didn't have a moment to think about it because you felt his fingers gently hook your panties, pushing them aside. You inhaled louder and looked down with your lips parted. He leaned down, pressing the tip of his nose between your slit and shamelessly inhaled your scent. He groaned, bringing you to a state you had never been in before so quickly.

"You smell amazing, baby," he purred, tightening his fingers on your thighs and without warning, he plunged his tongue into your leaking hole. You moaned loudly, looking down at him and your hand tangled itself in his hair.

Frankie slowly ran his tongue between your lips, tasting all the excitement that had managed to escape from you. He purred as if he was eating his favorite dessert. You tightened your fingers in his hair, feeling how every movement of his delicate tongue brought you closer and closer to the heights of pleasure.

"Frankie," you gasped loudly and in response you only received a quiet purr and his tongue on your clit. A broken moan escaped you before you started to breathe heavily because he simply started making out with her.

He sank into your pussy and didn't want to break away even for a second. Like a thirsty man, he circled your sweet spot, licked up your juices, and kissed you. Passionately and deeply, until your knees began to shake.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," you moaned squeaky, pulling his head closer to your temple. You started to gasp for air, chasing your orgasm that was inexorably approaching with every movement of his tongue. Until finally, you felt a wave of fulfillment pass through your body. You held his hair tightly, not letting him move as he continued to guide you through your orgasm. Broken moans echoed around as your clit throbbed under his tongue.

You swallowed hard and loosened your grip on his hair, which immediately allowed him to lick everything that flowed out of you. You moaned as you felt his tongue gently plunge into your throbbing hole. A quiet curse escaped your lips as you calmed your breathing, looking at the starry sky.

"Tell me you're on some kind of pills because I don't know if I have any condoms with me," he gasped, suddenly appearing in front of you.

His lips glistened with your juices and you couldn't resist pulling him to you by his shirt to kiss him hard. You were so fucking grateful for the wonderful orgasm he gave you, you couldn't put it into words. So you just let yourself kiss him passionately, hugging his neck tightly. He didn't resist, in fact, he willingly leaned closer and sank his teeth into you with pleasure.

"Mhm," you hummed in confirmation because you couldn't even tell him that you had an implant and that you desperately wanted to feel him inside you without any shitty latex barriers. That was enough for him to reach into his pants and sloppily start unbuckling his belt. And you were so impatient that in the meantime you unzipped his fly. You moaned feeling his cock twitch towards your hands.

"Baby, I swear to you, I'm clean," he gasped, reaching for his seething cock.

You immediately jumped, sitting on the hood of the car and spreading your legs wide for him. You didn't even look down when you felt his hot tip right next to your entrance. A groan escaped his throat as he passed between your wet lips a few times and slowly entered you. Your loud moan died in his mouth, which effectively silenced you as he went deeper and deeper, only to withdraw a moment later and go even deeper again. Your walls clenched tightly around him, getting used to his invasive presence. Either you hadn't had a cock inside you for so long, or he was well-endowed by mother nature.

“You’re so big,” you whimpered, taking just over half of him.

Frankie groaned loudly, gripping your hips tightly, trying to go deeper but just couldn’t. He cursed under his breath and slowly began to thrust into you, hoping he could stretch you out more over time. But just half of him was enough to make you cock drunk.

You sloppily began to kiss him back and bit his lip hard when he tried to go deeper inside you. He hissed in pain and you felt a metallic taste in your mouth. You looked at him terrified but you couldn’t fight the pleasure his dick was giving you, still moving inside your tight pussy.

“I’m sorry,” you moaned, digging your nails into the back of his neck as he thrust his hips harder again. You slid your other hand down to his cheek and wiped the blood that was starting to run down his chin with your thumb.

“Again,” he gasped, looking at you completely pussy drunk. You clenched around him, making him groan, closing his eyes and letting you press hard into his mouth again.

The pain of the open wound and your tongue gently caressing it, sent shivers down to his balls. He felt fucking nirvana as your pussy allowed him to go deeper with each thrust. He tried to fight the quickly approaching orgasm but he simply couldn't. The way you caressed his body was beyond him.

"Baby please, I can't hold it in any longer," he moaned, starting to tremble. Then your lips began to create a trail of kisses along his jaw to his ear. You needed a long moment to come yourself, but right now you wanted nothing more than to please him.

"Go ahead," you whispered with a smile and gently bit his earlobe. The sounds he began to make with each subsequent thrust could bring you to another orgasm without even having to touch your pussy. You made a mental note to try it with him sometime.

All the moans went straight to his ear, and from his ear, straight to his cock, which was pulsing furiously, signaling the approaching orgasm. And then he made the most animalistic sound you've ever heard in your life. His balls tightened in pleasure, and all of his cum erupted deep inside you. He panted heavily, thrusting into you a few more times before he stopped and rested his head on your shoulder. Your cunt throbbed with the excitement of his orgasm and squeezed the last drops out of him, making him shiver. You began to place soft kisses on his neck and played with his hair between your fingers.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said contritely, feeling awful that he had selfishly come before you.

“Don’t be,” you whispered, smiling fondly and pulling away. Frankie straightened up, looking at you with sparkling eyes. He looked so damn innocent after his orgasm that you immediately wanted to take care of him.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he offered and you could hear the hint of pleading in his voice. You smiled wider, shaking your head and placing your hands on his cheeks, stroking his stubble with your thumbs.

“Actually, it was the best first date of my life,” you admitted and leaned down, placing a soft and sweet kiss on his lips. Frankie looked at you with puppy eyes and wrapped his arms around your waist tightly. “And honestly, I’m counting on another one. I haven't had this much fun in a while," you bit your lip hiding your wide smile and that was enough to stop him feeling like a dick. He smiled softly and this time he leaned down connecting your lips in a sweet and slow kiss.

"In that case, I make pretty good drinks," he whispered biting your lip getting a moan from you in return.

"I'd like that."

[penkura]

last forever [8/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: This is my personal favorite chapter I've written. That's all I have to say lol.

Taglist:

@misfits1a

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6] ● [Ch. 7]

“Hey, Sanji. Do me a favor.”

Sanji's nearly unconscious as Zoro speaks to him, his favor loud and clear before the blond passes out, leaving the swordsman to face Bartholomew Kuma alone.

You thought Zoro was going to die, you had convinced yourself he wasn't going to wake up. You'd stayed by his side, praying, ever since Sanji and Chopper brought Zoro back into Moria's mansion to treat his wounds and let him rest. Sanji won't tell you a word of what happened, no matter how much you beg him to.

“Mosshe– Zoro wouldn't want you to know. I doubt he wants anyone to know. Least of all you and Luffy.”

Whatever Sanji meant, you don't know, and right now you don't even care about what had Zoro knocked out the last little while.

Finally he was awake, it felt longer than it really was, three (agonizing) days, he had freakish healing like Luffy did, of course. But seeing he's awake, you can't help it, you throw yourself at him saying his name over and over like a mantra as you cry. Of course it freaks him out a bit, once he bites back a heavy groan from the pain you've just inflicted on him with your tight hug, it takes Zoro a moment to register you hugging him before he's able to do anything about it.

And he returns your hug slightly. Loosely wrapping his arms around you, one around your shoulders, the other barely touching your waist, an attempt at comforting you while you cry.

Damn it, he's tried so hard to push your feelings away, get you to stop looking at him like he was your world, but now Zoro realizes he's only stoked the flames by doing so, only made your feelings stronger without meaning to.

But, maybe he doesn't mind. He'd seek you out each morning, mostly asking if you'd gotten anything from your parents about your little sham marriage, but he'd also ask you to train with him if you weren't busy, and even be the one to go into town with you whenever the Sunny docked for a day or two. You never asked, you just knew he was coming with you so you waited for him, waited until he was by your side and then you'd smile and lead Zoro into the town to shop for whatever your heart desired (and your wallet could afford). In the time he'd started doing that, Zoro noticed different things about you.

The way you laughed with store clerks as they told you about an item you were looking at, your eyes would sparkle with every new find, how you'd hold onto his wrist to make sure he didn't get lost, you staying beside him when he'd nap on Sunny, you making sure he had enough water during his workouts.

How you'll help anyone on the ship with anything they need. You'll bring Nami the supplies she needs to make maps, help Usopp and Luffy fish for dinner, wash the dishes after dinner despite Sanji telling you he'd do it. You've been learning from Chopper how to treat wounds, you'll sit with Robin and listen to her tell you about history, you've even started helping Franky with his projects and helping to perform maintenance on Sunny if needed.

Then with him. With Zoro you're content to sit quietly while he naps, or watch him while he trains, never expecting a conversation. You willingly bring him whatever he needs, whether it's water or sake, you fix his shirts if they get torn, you even stay up when he has night watch and share drinks with him. He never thought someone would want to spend all their time with him or that he'd accept someone being so close to him, what had changed that made him actually want company during times he'd normally want to rest and be alone?

You. Damn, it was you.

You whose inner demons would infiltrate your dreams, causing you to slip into his bed for comfort, stability, as he slept soundly which gave you peace to do the same, a silent promise after the first time of yes, I’ll keep you safe. You who he had saved from drowning more times than Luffy and Chopper combined. You who made him feel like he was on fire with the slightest touch, even a brush of your fingers against his at dinner. You who had stitched him up multiple times, the first one turning into a jagged scar that if asked he'd say was his favorite. You who cared enough to stay sober in bars to drag him back to the hotel or the ship when you knew he needed to stop and rest.

You who would tell him every detail about the books you were reading, the ones you'd purchased or borrowed from Robin. The one time you told him the main love interest of a romance novel reminded you of him, making his face burn red out of embarrassment before he told you not to say such things, especially in front of the others (mostly Sanji).

Even after telling you in Alabasta that nothing was going to happen, you two weren't going to become a couple, he wasn't here to play romance with you or anyone else. Even after all that, you still stuck to his side almost like glue and didn't let it change anything.

Even with your argument after Robin joined, nothing much changed between the two of you. If anything, Zoro felt more drawn to you than anything or anyone else. He wanted to spend more time with just you and him. What a change from just a few months ago, he just realized.

Even once you kissed him and he returned it in Water Seven, you attempted to apologize soon after, before he stopped you. There had been nothing to apologize for, not from you anyway. If he'd thought about it at the time, Zoro would have apologized for not giving you a proper response then. For making you go to bed alone that night.

Damn it all.

What has happened to him? Ever since your sham marriage began something has been creeping into his mind every time he looks at you and remembers "Oh yeah I'm married to her" that makes him want to pull you away from everyone and damn it, he wants to kiss you again. There's another feeling of wanting, needing to protect you, despite how strong you are in your own right. Everything about this is weird, yet somehow comforting as well. Who put this spell on him, who made him have feelings like this? Are you secretly a witch on top of a swordswoman?

"Zoro…?"

Zoro breaks out of his thoughts when you speak his name again, this time as a question, your voice shaking as you hold him tighter, trying your best not to hurt him again.

"I…” your voice shakes again, and you hide your face in the crook of his neck, briefly wondering if this was the smart thing to do, before the words fall out of your mouth, “I love you…"

He pulls you closer, just a bit, your whispered confession only loud enough for him to hear. He doesn't have a response, not right now, but you're fine with that. You'd accepted long ago he may never love you back, but you had to tell him. He had to know.

After nearly losing him, you had to get these feelings out.

So when he ever so quietly thanks you, pressing the softest kiss to your temple, it makes you cry even more. You feel there's a chance, however small it may be, that Roronoa Zoro may come to have feelings for you one day.

Chopper returns a moment later, not wanting to pull you two apart, but he's so happy to see Zoro's alive and awake that even he cries a little, before checking the swordsman's wounds as you release yourself from him, Zoro allowing you to continue holding his hand for comfort.

Not only for you, but for him as well.

“I probably won't make it out of this…so take care of her for me, got it?”

+!+

"I told Zoro I love him."

It becomes so quiet you can hear a pin drop after that. Nami had asked why you were so spaced out that day, she and Robin now both so surprised at your confession. Nami's jaw drops and Robin has a small smile, before they look at each other with one thought in mind.

Impromptu girl's night.

"I'm getting extra blankets and pillows!"

"I'll ask Sanji for some wine and snacks."

Once everything is together and all the pillows and blankets are spread on the floor, you have glasses of wine and small snacks, Nami demands to hear every detail and you tell her and Robin everything about your love confession.

"He…he thanked me and kissed me–"

"On the lips again?!"

You laugh and shake your head, taking a small sip of your wine. "No, just on my temple this time."

Nami squeaks a bit, Robin laughing lightly at her reaction and the longing look on your face. As soon as she joined she'd seen the love you held for Zoro on your face, anytime you spoke of him or someone else did, your eyes would light up and your cheeks would burn pink.

You were deeply in love with him, even though he showed no romantic feelings for you. Robin had given you a romance novel once specifically due to the fact the love interest even reminded her of Zoro, which you quickly agreed with and finished the book in nearly three days which surprised her.

Nami, knowing you and Zoro were married, wanted you two together from the start. Every time you told her something that made you fall more and more in love with him, she'd giggle alongside you which always got a strange look from Usopp and Luffy, who thought you were both insane. She'd push you two together so often, that when Zoro started following you off the ship she thought it was a good sign, since she didn't have to bribe him with reducing his debt or anything. He just went on his own.

"That's such a great sign!" Nami throws her arms around you in a hug, making you laugh while Robin nods. "He's starting to fall for you! Finally!"

"I wouldn't go that far, Nami."

"I would! After all these months, you guys could be a real couple!"

"Nami, let's calm down a bit," Robin smiles and puts a hand on your shoulder, "She and Zoro will need to talk things out eventually, but let's see if anything changes since she's confessed her love to him."

Sighing loudly, Nami nods but still holds onto you, seeing a strange look on your face. She's not sure if it's one of concern or what, but it makes her hug you a little tighter.

"I'm sure he loves you, maybe deep down right now, but, he's gonna tell you one day."

You smile a bit with a slight nod, hugging Nami back. You believe her, you really do. Even if it takes a while for Zoro to say anything back to you, it doesn't matter. You'll wait as long as it takes and not give up.

For Zoro, you'll wait a lifetime.

+!+

You're crawling into Zoro's bed a few nights later. Your nightmares had turned from your neglectful parents to losing him at Thriller Bark, waking you with tears and sobs that Robin tried to help you through, calming you down enough for you to tell her you were going to slip into his bed like you'd done every time before. She simply nodded and let you go, promising to tell Nami nothing about it, you didn't want her worrying.

Zoro's fast asleep, as always, as you quietly sneak into the boy's bunks and step over Luffy who had fallen out of his hammock. You hear him mumble something about meat in his sleep while Usopp snores and Chopper sleeps happily beside him, but you pay no mind to it. You feel lucky Franky's in his workshop, Sanji's still busy in the kitchen, and Brook is out on the deck playing his violin. None of them should cause you any problems this time, but does it matter if they do?

Your thoughts are entirely on Zoro and making sure he's okay. He's still injured, but you have to be certain nothing is wrong.

You quickly and quietly slip into his hammock once you reach it, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his back, hearing a slight groan from him due to his wounds still not being fully healed. You feel bad waking him, even as he turns around and throws one of his arms over you, looking at you as if asking what was wrong, even though he thought he knew. It's been a while since you've last done this, your nightmare must have been particularly awful for you to return to this habit he'd thought you'd stopped.

"You okay?" His brows are furrowed while he wipes a few of your tears away. He's never seen you this upset after a nightmare before.

You try to speak but all that comes out is a whimper and a quiet sob, making you grip his shirt tighter as you shake your head. You can't tell him, you can't get the words out that it was a nightmare about him dying after he’s told you numerous times he wasn’t dying until he became the world’s greatest swordsman. He came so close to death at Thriller Bark that you were just terrified deep down about it becoming reality.

Instead of inquiring further, Zoro just nods, pulling you closer in an effort to calm you down.

"You're safe here. Nothing's gonna get you while I'm around."

You feel the quickest of kisses on your forehead before Zoro tucks your head under his chin, closing his eyes to sleep again, and it's all so strange to you. You've not had time to sit and talk since you told him you love him, but he's treated you slightly differently lately. Still going into town with you, training with you, but now sitting beside you at every meal which pissed off Sanji at times, purposefully leaning against you while he napped as you read a book.

He let you hold his hand the other day in town, even stopping at a small café with you for lunch and refusing to let you pay for your own meal despite his own money problems.

Zoro may not be in love with you yet, but you can tell he definitely cares for you in how he treats you. He saw through your façade of acting like all was well while you were still nursing the pain from your parents treating you like property and trying to sell you off to someone nearly twice your age just for money, the pain your brother tried his hardest to lighten before he helped you run away. He'd noticed from the moment he met you that there was something you were keeping from him and when he got it out of you one night, he said he'd keep you from having to go back. That was why he married you, you had more to give and do than be someone's third bride, he'd help you achieve it himself.

"Thank you, Zoro."

He's still awake, but once you finally fall asleep, he opens his eyes and watches you, finally peaceful. He feels bad he doesn't have a true response to you yet, he’s still working things out in his own mind and heart. Telling you once before that he held no romantic feelings for you, but now realizing that his thoughts have changed, it’s hard to work through that without letting anyone know. He doesn't want to get your hopes up just to tell you he doesn't feel the same in the end.

But, Zoro thinks that maybe, maybe staying married to you won't be so bad. Maybe, once he works out his feelings, he'll try to properly court you, give you a relationship you deserve, he'll protect you from anything and anyone else.

And then, one day, you could revisit this being a married couple thing, maybe actually live as husband and wife.

+!+

There's a slight bit of teasing the next morning from Franky. He'd finally gone to bed at one point and was surprised you had snuck into Zoro's hammock, the swordsman having an arm around you as you both slept. Granted he's seen how close you two are, especially after the fiasco of Thriller Bark, but didn't think you were that close.

He's also surprised by none of the others, apart from Brook, saying anything about it either. Was this normal for the two of you, to share a bed like that? If it was, why didn't Zoro just join you in the women's bunks? Surely your bed was more comfortable than his hammock.

Your face feels like it’s burning all through breakfast, the same as when Sanji first caught you in Zoro's hammock and made a fuss about it. Zoro just sets a glare at Franky anytime he says something about you two getting cozy with a grin that tells him your shipwright is getting the wrong idea. You two hadn't done anything, you slept like the other times, there's no reason for this teasing.

Zoro eventually has enough and slams his hand on the table, frightening most of your crewmates, standing up and continuing to glare at Franky.

"Would you just shut up about it? She had a nightmare and came to me for help, that's all. Come on, let's go."

Luckily you're done with breakfast when Zoro tells you to go with him, nodding and doing so as you hear Sanji and Nami reprimand Franky, who's now wondering why Zoro, of all people, got so angry about a little bit of teasing.

"I don't get what the big deal is," Franky leans back in his seat, ignoring how Nami is still looking like she's going to smack him, "So what if they're together? Not like it's against the rules or anything."

"Except they aren't together." Sanji responds before Nami can, and all it does is make Franky question the situation even more. He's trying to diffuse the situation, making sure your arrangement with Zoro doesn't get out before you either annul or Zoro decides to stay with you.

Luffy nods, before saying "They're married though, but don't tell anyone else!"

"Luffy!!" Nami doesn't even wait to smack him over the head, making your captain whine and ask what that was for. "That's not our secret to tell!"

"Well they're gonna get an annulment thingy anyway, so why does it matter??"

"Wait what, what the hell?"

“I didn't know Zoro and [Y/N] were married!” Chopper sounds beyond excited, while Brook laughs.

“Yohoho, what a surprise!”

Franky and Brook try to question Luffy and Nami about the whole thing, while Robin smiles to herself.

She's heard you and Sanji talking about your marriage to Zoro every now and then, and knew most of the details already, but knowing your feelings for him, she’s sure it’s only a matter of time before you two actually became a couple.

Though, she’s also fairly certain that if you heard your marriage had been revealed, you'd crawl in a hole and die while Zoro would seriously consider throwing Luffy overboard, before saving him in the end.

+!+

"I don't think Franky was trying to be rude about it."

"He was being obnoxious is the point, [Y/N]."

Nodding in agreement, you keep your eyes on your book once Zoro comes back from showering after his morning workout. He'd gone straight to the crow's nest after leaving the kitchen, you running to get a book and joining him once you'd picked one out. You've been sitting there ever since, having small conversations with Zoro while he worked out, eventually leaving long enough to take a shower before coming back to you in the same spot. He didn't want to talk about the morning's events anymore, but you felt like you had to say something no matter how obnoxious Franky was about the whole situation.

Zoro sits beside you, and you barely glance over a few times, wondering if now was a good time to talk about your confession and what's next for the two of you, before he speaks first.

"Anything from your parents?"

Ah yes, that makes sense. He hasn't asked yet today, that's what was missing from this day.

Shaking your head, you close your book and lean back to stare up at the ceiling. "Not a word. Makes me think they forgot they had a daughter."

"We're three days out from having to divorce, right? So there's probably no chance of them responding in time."

You're not sure if you hear annoyance or concern in Zoro's voice, but again you nod.

You don't know how to voice that you don't want to annul or divorce, that your confession to him after he woke up at Thriller Bark wasn't a heat of the moment thing or simply crewmate concern. You really are in love with him, that was a fact you've come to know over the last few months but were only able to voice recently.

Why do feelings have to be so complicated?

"You meant what you said, after I woke up?"

He's very quiet, you almost miss him speaking, but your breath catches in your throat, and its all you can do to just nod, a small 'yes' coming out of your mouth.

Zoro's not at all surprised as he nods, trying to plan his next words carefully. He's not ready to say the same love confession to you, but he might be willing to try. Try a relationship with you and keep you safe, whether your parents ever reply to you or not. He's willing to give the two of you a shot.

It's strange, how just six months ago you were in tears to him about the arranged marriage and he quickly offered to marry you and keep you from going home, from leaving him. At first, he tried to convince himself it was because you were useful, you worked well with him when taking down bounty targets. You knew how to use a sword and could perform recon work on your targets, all of that was more than what he needed in a bounty hunting partner, when he'd never thought of having one before. Not until he met you in that dinky little bar when you were running away from home, nearly passing out when you ran into him because you'd had a fever and he kept you from hitting the ground. He lost a couple days of work taking care of you, a complete and total stranger, that you were so grateful to him you offered to help and he only let you do so after you sparred with him. You lost obviously, but Zoro was impressed enough to let you follow him if you wanted to.

The year and a half you had traveled and worked together was enough, he knew it when he told you he'd marry you. You didn't know it, still don't to this day, and Zoro would likely take the truth to the grave with him, but at this point he knew it.

He knew he had feelings for you, it was just telling you. That's the difficult part right now.

You'd said your side of it, Zoro just needed the right place and time to return your words.

"I want–"

There's shouting from down on the deck that snaps you both out of your little world you're in, and you sit up to look out the window, seeing what looked like a large fish tail and Sanji freaking out over something. You wonder what's going on, before looking at Zoro, who looks less than thrilled you two were interrupted.

"Something's going on! Let's go see!"

He doesn't fight or grumble while you grab his wrist and pull him up, there's nothing he can do about it now.

Maybe tomorrow I guess.

+!+

“What’s with the bird?”

You don’t even have the chance to untie the letter from your parents before Zoro asks, you just smile before petting your family’s carrier bird on her head, giving her a few scratches as she perches on your shoulder.

“My parents are wealthy, so they have their own carrier birds. We’ve had Chisa here since I was little, she brings me mail and letters all over, wherever I am she’ll find me.”

“Seriously? All of that just to flex their cash?” Zoro rolls his eyes when you nod with a small giggle, opening the latest letter you’d been sent by your parents.

Every one so far had been a demand to return home and “fulfill your duty” of marrying the man they’d chosen for you. It was ridiculous, you’ve let Zoro see a few of them, even though every letter says the exact same thing. The only one that had been different was a letter exclusively from Elias, telling you about his marriage because he knew you’d be happy for him.

You start to follow after Zoro as he attempts to lead you back to the town you’re staying at, not even sure why you’re reading the letter that’s most likely just their demands for you to come back, until you catch a new line in the letter that makes you stop in your tracks.

The second he hears your breathing pick up, Zoro stops and looks over his shoulder at you, eyes widening just a bit when he sees your shoulders shaking and it almost seems like you’re about to have a panic attack.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” he’s almost instantly in front of you with his hands on your shoulders, Zoro knows he isn’t good at this stuff, but he’s got to get you to calm down, “What’s wrong? What’s in the letter?”

“I…I’m eighteen.”

“Yeah…? So what about—”

“Shit, shit, they’re gonna,” Zoro can barely keep you from hitting the ground while you crouch down, still holding the letter but putting your hands on your head to try and calm yourself down, “They’re gonna find me and force me to marry him.”

Zoro takes the letter from you while you start crying over your fears of being forced back home, reading the letter himself to see there’s some caveat in the agreement between your parents and alleged fiancé, where you’d be legally married soon after turning eighteen whether you had a wedding or not. Scowling, Zoro starts to rip to letter up, watching you fist your hair and close your eyes tight. Whatever you went through while dealing with this arranged marriage situation, it’s left a bad impression on you, he’d be surprised if you ever chose to get married one day because of it.

After a few minutes, Zoro helps you back up, holding your shoulders again, before trying to speak to you.

“What—"

“I can’t go back, I can’t!” Finally looking up at him again, you’re still in tears and griping his shirt so tightly, almost desperate for some way out of this arrangement, some way to keep from being found and dragged back there. “I won’t go back, Zoro, please, help me!! I can’t marry that man!”

What is he supposed to do? There’s very little chance your parents haven’t sent people out to find you, or sent your name and picture across government facilities that honor small village traditions, no matter how dark or outdated they may be. He doesn’t know what to do, this is so foreign to him! How is he supposed to keep you from marrying someone?

“I’ll marry you then.”

“W-What??” This isn’t what you expected for help, not even in the slightest. You don’t even think Zoro knew he was going to say that, or planned to, it seems like it just came out with no rhyme or reason.

But, it would fix the problem. If you married someone else, your parents couldn’t rightfully force you to marry someone else, whether they had chosen the person or not.

“I…” You shake your head, not wanting Zoro to feel like he has to do something, it’s not his job. All you’ve done is follow him the last year and a half, he’s not supposed to be your protector or anything like that, just a friend that let you go with him so you didn’t have to go back home, back to what you’ve fled. “We can’t! I mean, we aren’t—"

“If I marry you, will that keep them from forcing you home?!”

“I…I think so?”

Nodding, Zoro takes your hand off his shirt, watching you for any signs of rejection or if you want to say anything else. There’s something in his eyes, you don’t know what it is, you probably never will. But he holds your hand so tightly, keeping you from pulling away before he says it again.

“Marry me, [Y/N].”

For a moment, you don’t respond, wondering if Zoro’s screwing with you or not. But that’s not like him. You’ve only known him for about eighteen months, but you know that he would never joke around about something like this. He might be a little closed off still, but he would never play with someone’s feelings this way.

After another minute or so, you nod.

“I’ll marry you, Zoro.”

+!+

You’ve not thought about how Zoro offered to marry you in quite a while, the memory waking you up from a dead sleep in the village you’ve been in the last eighteen months. After receiving Luffy’s message about when to meet your crew again, you ended up staying in a village that excelled in training swordswomen, working your hardest every day and improving to the point very few of the other women even tried to spar with you.

Now I can’t sleep.

Sighing, you get up from your bed and go to the balcony in your little apartment you’ve been granted use of. Remembering the proposal that’s put you in this situation still, where you’ve been legally married for two years, have told Zoro--who was supposed to be your temporary husband--that you’re in love with him, and it seems like he might be starting to feel something similar towards you. It’s still all so strange, but it makes you smile while you watch the stars for a few minutes, silent prayers for your crew’s continued safety, and hopes that you and Zoro can make things work out.

“Happy anniversary, Zoro.”

+!+

You’ll be surprised to hear, one day in the future, that Zoro had the same dream about his impromptu proposal around the same time you did. He even realizes that it would’ve been your second anniversary at the time, give or take a few days, Mihawk doesn’t have a calendar or bother to keep him and the ghost girl up to date on what’s going on outside the island.

The dream isn’t enough to wake him the way it does you, but it does linger in his mind the rest of the day, even as he trains. It gets to the point that Mihawk stops him, asking what on earth could be distracting the twenty-one-year-old so badly that he’s making beginner’s mistakes, and Zoro decides to tell him, just to get it out there. Maybe that will help him clear his mind.

“Just… thinking about my wife.”

This earns a raised brow from Mihawk and a shout from Perona.

“A wife?”

“You’re married and never told us?!”

“You aren’t my crew!”

Perona sticks her tongue out at him, demanding answers about you and your marriage, questions Zoro refused to answer right now, before Mihawk interrupts them.

“I care not that you’re married. You can think about your wife later, focus on training now.”

Though Zoro knows Mihawk is right, he should be focusing on his training, thoughts of you and your strange marriage don’t leave his mind, despite his nodding.

“Right.”

I’ll talk to you soon then…[Y/N].

[pimosworld]

The ties that bind

Pairing- Dave York x f!reader x Frankie Morales

Series Summary-Dave is a private investigator who tracks down soulmates. He’s tasked to find Frankie’s, but what happens when he finds you and wants you all to himself?

CW-18+,MDNI,NSFW,Angst,Fluff,Tension, Confrontation,Mechanical Bull riding ( it needs its own warning)

WK-4.2k

A/N- Thank you for being so patient with me. I love you all, this is the reason I wrote this series and I can’t wait for your reactions.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter V

Frankie’s fingers tap idly against the black phone screen. There were things he needed to do today but he couldn’t take his mind off the fact that he hadn’t heard from you. Or Dave. It doesn’t matter, he shouldn’t be angry or jealous, but he is. There’s an unsettling rage building inside him at the thought of not having you first. It’s not fair and at the same time it should be him. He told you himself you don’t belong to anyone but that’s not true. You belong to him and Dave may have stolen his opportunity. You and your perfect smile,your honey sweet demeanor and your soft hands. The perfume and scent of you that he hasn’t been able to rid himself of since that day he met you. Had Dave been anything other than what he was he wouldn't have blamed him. They’re no weak men, but when it comes to you it seems men make stupid decisions. 

The man is willing to risk his entire career and reputation to have you. He’ll gladly throw it all away and never help another soul just to say that he found someone that eases that ache in his chest, fills the gaps where the pain seeps through. Reminds them they still know how to smile and enjoy the sunset. 

  Worst of all Frankie admits that if the roles were reversed he would likely do the same thing. 

  Your name flashes on the Lock Screen and he immediately answers, cursing himself slightly for seeming desperate. 

  “One ring, that’s impressive.” You laugh as he groans on the other end. 

  “I was holding my phone and I must have accidentally…-you know what…I’m not gonna lie I was excited to see your name, I’ve been dying to talk to you since I left.”He’s definitely out of practice with this whole dating and flirting. 

  A brief pause and your voice comes in a little lower. “I wanted to call you last night.” 

  “You should have.” 

  He hopes you can hear the pride in his voice knowing you still thought about him despite your date. 

  “So…how was your date?” He shuffles uncomfortably on the couch trying to sound as supportive as possible. 

  You sigh deep contemplating. “Do you really want to know? Or are you just being the most polite man in the world.?” 

  “A mixture of both I guess.” 

  “Well, honestly I had a great time. I’m sure that’s not what you want to hear but he was a perfect gentleman.” You clear your throat like you want to say more as he grits his teeth thinking about Dave. “I’m not sure where to go from here.” 

  You mindlessly play with the stray fabric on Alicia’s quilt having slept in her empty bed last night. 

  “Tell me your thoughts hermosa, I’m all ears.” 

  Your stomach does a flip at the pet name and the thought of having to explain your unorthodox thoughts out loud to your soulmate. But he sounds like he really wants to know so you sit up crossing your legs underneath you and begin. 

  “I told him about you…and his words not mine, we’re that he was not afraid of a little friendly competition.” You think you hear a scoff but you can’t be sure so you continue. “You said I don’t belong to anyone so…I’d like to keep getting to know you both for now.”

  It’s silent and all you can hear is his soft breaths through the phone as you try to hold yours. You’re starting to panic that maybe you’ve said the wrong thing. 

  “Baby I’m not going anywhere until you tell me to.” He smiles as he hears your sigh of relief. Frankie decided the day he met you that he wasn’t going to stop going after what he wanted most. 

  You grin wide to yourself wondering how you got so lucky. “You’re killing me over here with the pet names.” 

  “I don’t fight fair sweetheart.” 

  “Ok mister, that's enough out of you.” You hear his infectious laugh, knowing how unserious you sound. 

  You hear the keys to the front door jingle and the tell tale sign of a hungover Alicia cursing her way through the flat. 

  “I was getting ready to send out a search party for my friend but she’s home in relatively one piece.” Frankie grunts on the other end as he’s sorely reminded of Santiago’s budding love life. 

  She makes her way into the room looking at you conspiratorially as she quickly gets under the warm covers. 

  “I guess I should let you go so you can talk about what a gentleman my friend was.” You can tell by his reluctance that he’s wanting to continue this just as badly as you. He hears you snicker as you catch a glimpse of a dark hickey forming on her neck. 

  You poke it gently with your finger as she swats your hand away. “Hardly a gentleman keeping her out all night.” 

  She rolls over close enough to your ear nuzzling into you. “Are you two having phone sex in my bed?” 

  “Oh my god no!” 

  “Bummer.” 

  Frankie’s bellowing laugh echoes through the receiver as she winks at you. 

  He hears you take in a deep breath and then a soft whine that he can’t think too much about. “I guess…we’ll talk later Frankie.” 

  “Looking forward to it hermosa.” You groan again and his hand drifts mindlessly to the front of his jeans. 

  “You and that mouth are gonna be the death of me.” You hang up before he has the chance to speak. To which he’s grateful because he couldn’t if he tried. 

  ****

  “What’s his mouth doing?” You narrow your eyes at her incessant teasing as she sits up to join you against the headboard. 

  “Enough about my complicated love life, how was your date with Santiago?” You raise your eyebrows at her while she stares back with a blank unreadable expression on her face. 

  She bites her lip and glances up to the ceiling. The silence stretches on for too long as you grab her hand in yours to force her to look at you again. 

  “Hon you can tell me anything, you know that?” 

  She squeezes your hand back. “I know, it just feels selfish with everything you’ve got going on.” 

  You level her with a look. “I’m being courted by two gorgeous men not having a root canal…spill the beans!” 

  She buries herself beneath the blanket. “I’m fucking head over heels, completely obsessed. He’s so kind and hot and we’re both messed up in the same ways. If  he asked me to marry him tomorrow I would.” Her muffled rambling stops for a moment as you hover over her and peel back the covers. “I think he’s equally as obsessed and that scares me.” 

  You laugh all light and airy. “Welcome to the club babe.” You plop back down against the pillow staring at the ceiling. 

  She sighs playfully. “Also he fucks like he’s trying to win the gold medal in the Olympics.” 

  “Oh my god don’t rub it in.” You groan as you roll over to face her. 

  She boops your nose. “Listen sweetie, no one said you can’t have a little fun.” 

  “Nuh uh…not until I make a choice.” You can see it as the words leave your mouth. The crazy glint in her eyes as the light bulb goes off in her head. “What’s that look?” 

  “You know where you love to go when you need to blow off a little steam.” 

  ****

  The floors are sticky and the room smells of cheap beer and sweaty bodies. It’s early in the night and there’s already several people on their way to being kicked out for being too drunk. Frankie narrowly avoided some drunk college girl about to spill her guts all over him as he maneuvered his way through the crowded country bar. He’s thankful for the loud twangy music from the jukebox and the shouts of overly intoxicated men trying to peacock their way into some poor girl's pants. At least it can drown out the thoughts he’s had since he and Dave exchanged quick instructions on where to meet so they could discuss things. 

  The conversation wasn’t long enough for him to gauge the tone. Dave deliberately said to meet here at this crazy horse type place. Every town seems to have one, a place where you could blend into the crowd if you wanted. Now he’s not so sure if the man knew what he was doing but he knows for certain it’s easy to get lost in here. 

  He knew Dave’s hotel would be too quiet of a place to meet in case things got too heated, they also wanted somewhere neutral where outside influence wouldn’t sway the conversation. Frankie’s never gone into a mission so blind and unprepared, all he knows is neither man has any plans to back down. 

  Frankie spots him in a booth in a far corner of the bar. He’s easy to see with his robotic stature, so much more out of place than Frankie with his relaxed tee and standard oil cap. He’s not sure what you see in him, or maybe he does and refuses to admit their similarities. Charming, disciplined, intelligent, conventionally attractive. It can’t be any of those things. 

  ****

  “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.” Dave pours Frankie a beer from a large pitcher and slides it’s towards him. 

  Frankie eyes it momentarily and tries to shove down the annoyance brewing between them. 

  “Poison is not my m.o. so it’s safe to drink.” Dave takes the glass and a huge swig as he pours into the empty one. 

  Frankie accepts, briefly relishing in the cool liquid. He needed something to calm his nerves and times like these would have had him reaching for something a little stronger. 

  Frankie smirks. “Funny you say that since I’ve thought of several ways to kill you.” He sets his beer down and Dave laughs a little, shaking his head. 

  Dave clears his throat and slides an envelope towards Frankie. “This is all Santiago’s money. I’m sure you don’t care but I don’t make a habit of this.”

  Frankie takes it, tucking it safely into his front flannel pocket. “I’m not sure what I expected.” He pauses briefly as he rubs his jaw. “I guess I thought you’d called me here to tell me you fucked up and you’re backing down.” 

  Dave shrugs with a self surprised look. “I expected you to tell her who I was. There must be a reason you didn’t or we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

  Frankie’s thought this over countless times. It never sounds right in his head. He’s hung up on the fairytale and something about hiring Dave doesn’t sound like a fairytale to him. 

  “She likes you.” Frankie says all matter of fact. “I could tell when she talked about you…it just didn’t feel right trying to get ahead by telling her who you were.” Dave watches as he takes his cap off running his fingers through his hair and places it back on. “Besides I don’t think it would’ve made a difference with us.” 

  Dave expected this conversation to go much worse, it’s oddly normal and under different circumstances he would probably be Frankie’s friend. It bothers him how much they’re getting along. He anticipated some yelling and maybe some choice words ending in a punch thrown. That was the younger version of him concocting a scenario that he now realizes would never unfold between these two grown men. He knows they’ve both seen too much violence for one lifetime to waste it on an equal counterpart. 

  After a few more beers and some unspoken agreement they actually come to terms with the situation. They already know about each other and you’ve made it clear you’re interested in both men so they’ll wait as long as they have to until you make a decision. The loser will recede without conflict and they can all go on living their lives.

  There’s definitely an air of false confidence coming from either side. Dave believes you’ll choose him because he met you first and established a bond. He’s always been cocky in every aspect of his life and to him this was no different. 

  Frankie plays along because in his mind how could you not choose your soulmate. You had an instant connection and his best friend is dating your best friend. There’s no way he could go wrong. 

  “I’d say we have ourselves a deal Francisco.” Dave holds his hand out, much larger than Frankie has realized as he shakes it across the table. 

  “You might as well call me Frankie.” He replies as Dave’s eyes linger for a moment on his lips. 

  A brief flicker that anyone would’ve missed and Frankie’s grasps that he hasn’t let go of his hand. 

A loud raucous laughter pulls them apart as they look out into the crowded bar. 

  “Would you ever be caught dead on one of those?” Dave gestures to the intoxicated man on the mechanical bull. 

  Frankie just shakes his head as they look on. “Santi dared me once when we were on leave. I was seeing double that night so I never even made it onto the damn thing.” 

  ****

  “Your names on the list babe.” Alicia plops down into the booth as you slide her drink towards her. She gives you a look as she peels the napkin from the top.

  You give her a stern face as you peel yours back and take a sip. “Don’t look at me like that. You can never be too careful.” 

  “You’re literally sitting here with our drinks.” 

  “What if I got distracted?” You laugh as she rolls her eyes. 

  You swear sometimes it was like an old married couple. 

  You both sit back scanning the room, people watching like you usually did. You loved coming to this bar, especially on college night. You got to watch the cat and mouse game like it was National Geographic. Reliving your college days and maybe helping a girl or two on the way to not make the same mistakes you did when it came to picking people up in seedy bars. 

  It seemed counterproductive to come to a loud, crowded bar full of hormonal twenty-somethings to talk about your love lives but this is where you accidentally agreed to meet Alicia when you first moved here. She suggested the place to meet you and make sure you weren’t a creep and you agreed not knowing anything about the place. 

  Amongst the noise and chaos you found your best friend and roommate and never looked back. So now this is where you come to reminisce and unwind when life is too complicated or in your case a modern day episode of the bachelorette. 

  “So.” She claps her hands pulling your attention back to the present. “Have you decided what you’re gonna do?” 

  “No…that’s why we’re here remember?” You tease as you gesture around the room. “All I know for certain is I really like them both.” 

  “Just fuck both of them.” She half mumbles into her drink as she takes another sip. 

  You playfully narrow your eyes at her “I heard that.” 

  “I meant you too.” She shrugs her shoulders and sighs. “You know I’m mostly joking…I know you want more than just sex, but I say you see where it goes with both of them. Leave the ball in their court.” 

  Her phone buzzes and she glances down at it smiling ear to ear. You eye her curiously as she sends a quick text and places it back face down on the table. 

  “I hope Santiago has a big house because I’m coming with you when you leave.” You say as she looks up at you. 

  “Oh he’s well aware, wherever I go you go.” 

  You both don’t speak for a moment as you revel in the background noise, the music, random roars of laughter and way too much squealing from drunk girls. The sound of a chair scratching and some machismo voices getting a little too loud before inevitably a bouncer has to come break it up. 

  A familiar laugh breaks through the clamor and you crane your neck to look at the other booths. 

  “Alicia, I think I’ve had too much to drink.” Your voice barely above a whisper. 

  “You haven’t even finished your first one.” The laugh is on the tip of her tongue until she sees the concern etched across your face. 

  “Babe what’s-“

  “Wait here.” You don’t even recognize your own voice as the words leave your mouth. 

  She’s cut off by your abrupt exit from the table. You’re seeing red and your heart is pounding in your ears. 

  ****

  Frankie could’ve left a while ago but he’s actually enjoying himself. Trading horror stories and some stories that sound classified but Dave is opening up to him so he wants to reciprocate. His laugh reverberates through him with how infectious it is and his smile actually meeting his eyes makes him seem less robotic and a little more approachable. He’d even dare say that Dave is having just as good a time as him with the way he’s relaxed into the booth, his arm draped along the back while the other hand spins the empty glass on the table. 

  “What in the actual fuck is going on over here?” 

  You’re standing there with your arms crossed, a wretched look on your face as a few people look over to the table. It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion as Dave’s happy demeanor morphs into a glass eyed stare. The moments feel like an eternity as both men wait for the other to respond and Frankie would soon rather the floor swallow him up than answer that question. 

  “It’s not what it looks like.” Frankie sounds unsure of his own voice as he dares to speak first. The look in your eyes has him regretting that before the words leave his mouth. 

  You throw your hands up sarcastically. “Next thing you’re gonna say is…please let me explain.” He just blinks again, running his hand across his neck nervously as a few girls snicker from behind you. 

  You point your finger at Dave. “And you.” Your voice drops an octave as you lean into the table. “I knew you were a fucking liar.” 

  That stings, more than you could ever know because his heart feels like it’s ripping in two. Despite the fact that he may have ruined the best thing to ever come into his life, he looks across the table and sees the revelation that he may have ruined it for Frankie as well. 

  You can faintly hear Alicia’s voice a few booths over spitting venom into her phone. You don’t feel too bad for Santiago at this moment but you hope for his sake he’s doing a better job at explaining than the two men in front of you. 

  Your name calls over the muffled loud speaker and you huff out in frustration. “Figures.” You reach  across the table grabbing the full beer in front of Dave as he closes his eyes, bracing for impact. 

  Unexpectedly you’re finishing the drink, slamming the glass on the table harder than you intended…but you’d frame the look on their faces if you could as you walk away and step into the ring in the middle of the bar that holds the mechanical bull. 

  The second time you came here with Alicia she had dared you to ride it. After  much encouragement from her and promise that she’d do it too you worked up the courage to get on. Much to your surprise you were very good at it and it was exhilarating having all these random eyes on you. It gave you a boost of confidence you’d never had before. 

  This feeling is reminiscent of the first time, your best friend leaning against the ring as you swing your leg over and mount the bull. You signal the controller with two fingers up as you grip the underside of the rope with your other hand. A bead of sweat trickles down your back as you take a deep breath. He starts out slow as the music cues up. You always let Alicia choose the song and you’re thankful right now as Genuines Pony starts playing over the loudspeakers, bringing all the attention to you. A few cheers from the crowd drown out the sound of your beating heart as you make direct eye contact with the two men seated nearby. 

  He jostles you slightly as your grip tightens on the reins and the laugh that erupts from Alicia is intoxicating as every part of your body shakes. He’s definitely taking it easy on you so you hold up three fingers signaling for him to take it up a notch. 

  ****

  “Jesus fucking Christ…” Dave half whispers from across the table as Frankie tries not to drool at the sight of you riding the bull, glancing up at them occasionally with a look of ‘this could’ve been you’. 

  It’s the most erotic, mesmerizing thing he’s ever seen and you look so confident up there that it has him thinking you’ve got a few more tricks up your sleeve. It’s like you’re trying to draw them in as your hips move in tandem, like you’ve done this a thousand times. 

  You bite your lip and smile at Alicia as he tries to buck you off, instinctively Frankie’s eyes are on the crowd of men that have gathered to watch you as they look on with predatory eyes. He can see Dave gripping the table as he watches the same and this possessive feeling washes over him. He knows it would be an all out brawl if one of them did or said anything to you and it’s not fair to think that way but he can’t help it. It’s carnal the way you make them feel and yet they’ve ruined any chance at being able to walk over to one of the brutes now and say that you belong to them. He doesn’t know when it switched from just him to them but right now he doesn’t care. 

  ****

  You use the bulls movement to your advantage as you gyrate your hips, picking up your ass slightly when it’s within their view. You can feel their eyes on you and your previous feeling of anger toward them is replaced with a much more confusing one. Both of them captivated by you with rapt attention has your mind wandering in circles of what if? Why choose? You crave them in a way you can’t describe and this filthy display you’re putting on is only making things harder for you. 

  The song is coming to a close, and despite your best efforts you feel yourself slipping. Sweat beads on your forehead as the bulls movements become more erratic. “Hold on babe, you’re almost there.” Alicia is jumping and yelling from the sidelines as you grit your teeth refusing to give up. With one final surge forward you summon all your strength and hold on for dear life, the crowd erupting into cheers as you rode out the last of the song. 

  You dismount as the adrenaline is coursing through your veins. You meet their eyes briefly and a mix of admiration and awe is etched across their faces. Though you may have been tossed around like a rag doll you surely left a lasting impression on the both of them. 

  You exit the ring as Alicia approaches you but your view of her is blocked as a tall, half drunk man crowds your space. He reeks of booze and he assuredly is seeing double. 

  “You did a pretty good job on that bull sweetheart-“ 

  “I’m gonna stop you there bud.” Alicia’s voice cuts in from behind him and he whips around nearly losing his balance. 

  There's a heavy presence looming behind you and you don’t dare turn around already having an idea of who it is. 

  “Two for the price of one, how nice.” The man spits at her and she’s seeing red. Frankie’s hand is on you as Dave steps forward to give this guy a piece of his mind, but he’s  much too slow for the spit fire as the man keels over holding his nose. 

  She shakes her hand violently as you step out of Frankie’s grip. “Sorry to ruin your knight in shining armor moment boys.” She gives a fake sorrowful look as she hooks her arm in yours, leaning into your ear. “Let’s get out of here.” 

  “I couldn’t agree more.” You say as you both hastily exit the bar, it’s better for both your sakes that you don’t turn around to see the stunned look on their faces. They can stay to deal with the aftermath. 

  ****

  You stand outside arm in arm as you wait for the car to pick you up, hoping Dave and Frankie are occupied or just too afraid to face you yet. You’re both reeling and you can tell she can’t decide who should speak first. 

  “I take it you talked to Santi.” 

“Mhmm.” She glances over at you knowingly. “We have a lot to talk about.” 

Prev/Next

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

Taglist- @missladym1981 @legendary-pink-dot @brittmb115 @christinamadsen @heavennumber2 @anoverwhelmingdin @guelyury @hannahkatharine @heareball @vabeachazn @frogjumps-world @jessthebaker @littlenosoul @adriennemichelle98 @syrupsstuff @pixielou5

[jessysapphireblue]

He is your WHAT?! Luffy x Oc

Nicknames include Lu and Je but nothing else. A female magician you can use with your name, since nothing else is mentioned. ALSO! A dragon comes in as her familiar with the name Soma. Also post wano

The Land of Wano was now two days behind you and everyone was quite happy with some calm and relaxing days. You kept your boyfriend busy with large bubbles, similar to the ones at Sabaody, Usopp and Chopper joining in.

You left them to rest next to Zoro, who was napping against the railing. You head slightly bend behindto stretch yourself as you felt a presence under water, which quickly came near. "Zoro, you feel that?", you asked the swordsman who stood up. "Yes. And it's something big", he added as a big shake came over the sunny. "What was that?!", shouted Franky as Jinbe steadied the sunny.

Water rose directly by Zoro and you, making Chopper and Usopp scream, hugging each other. Sanji also came out to look what the commotion is about, as the ship went deadly silent.

"DRAGON!!!!", everybody screamed as a big dragon stood there, shining in prismatic colors as the sun Hit it, and in its mouth was a dead sea King. "SANJI! FOOD!!! DRAGON MEAT!", Luffy shouted exited and Zoro smirked evily. "Never had the chance for it", said Sanji as you stood in front of the dragon. "If anyone of you Hit Soma, I will never speak to you again", you said quite serious.

"...Soma?", all asked. "Why, yes. This is Soma. He's my...pet" "PET?!!! THIS THING?!", Usopp shouted. "He's bigger than Kaido", admitted Zoro. Soma dropped the Sea King into the water and lowered his snout to you, as you pet him.

"Yes, hello my Baby. All ok?", you smiled softly at him. "Baby?! This Monster is nowhere near a Baby!!!", screeched Nami. "He's only two, Nami...and he got us the Sea King as a gift" "SEA KIND MEAT!!!! SANJI!!!" "Yeah yeah..." "He looks so cute. And he's bigger than the ones at Punk Hazard", admitted Robin, who now, joined your side. "Oh, you can Touch him if you want. He's...dolcile", you chuckled and Robin indeed touched him. "YOHOHOHOHO!!! I never thought a dragon could be this tame" "SUPER DRAGON!!!", Franky posed as Chopper came forth. "...why is he calling you Mama?", the cute reindeer looked at you. "Ahahaha...ehm. I met Soma when he was just a couple of months old and we directly clicked"

"Has anyone seen Luffy?", asked Jinbe as "FLY! FLY SOMA FLY!!! INTO THE SKY!!!", Luffy was already on his back, laughing. "Je, join!!!", he beamed before stretching his arms all around you, Pulling you into the dragon. "Soma, a quick round", you said and he sproud his wings. The sunny looks so small compared to them and with one heavy flap, he zoomed high up, past the clouds, your boyfriend cheering. "And?!", you shouted. "Je, this is amazing! You also, Soma!!" A loud growl came from Soma, making your evey widen. "Lu, hold on tight!", you said and in the next second, your dragon dived down at full speed.

The only Sound you heard was your exiting boyfriend before Soma stopped directly over the water, showing the reflextion, his claws gliding over the water, as he came to an halt by the sunny. "Wohooo!!! Amazing!" "Lu, your hair!", you began to laugh loudly at his wild wind-blown hair.

Back on the Sunny, you moved your Finger as Soma shrinked, perfect to the size to lay comfy around your neck. "You can shrink him?", asked Jinbe. "Because he's my familiar", you hummed, scratching his shimmering scales. "Fa-wha?", Lu poked his snout. "Familiar. We made a...soul bond. When I die, so does he, when I'm hurt he also gets hurt, and so on. I can also understand him", you admitted. "So, what kind of dragon is he?", asked Sanji and came closer to inspect him. "A spectal dragon. When light shines on him, he's like a prism. When he gets older, his flame will get the same color, and if what I read is correct...let me say it like this! Onigashima be melting down", you laughed.

"Where were you?! You could've helped us so much!"whined Usopp. "I'd only call him if the Situation would be live-threaten, Usopp...beides...He would swoop in just like that" "And what does he eat?" Asked franky. "Meat, fish, berries...everything raw. But mostly big animals...like the sea Kings and Dinosaurs" "Oh god" "Ah, no worry Sanji! Soma gets his food alone" "Je, you are incredible!" Lu hugged you close, kissing you. "Soma, you too! We're gonna have so much fun together!!!"

"Oh, no doubt about that", you laughed and saw how Soma sat himself on your boyfriends' straw hat before they talked, walking away

A picture compared to the sunny and soma 😁

[nethhiri]

Siren Charms: Chapter 6

Zoro x Siren!Reader

Warnings: None

Of The Ether

It was dark when you opened your eyes. You were in a room by yourself, in a bed, with some kind of weird dress on. Did I forget sneaking on to a ship? One of your favorite ruses was to let yourself be captured, then have a little nighttime buffet while most were asleep. If they put you in a tank as a mermaid, you shattered it. If they put you in seastone, thinking you had a devil fruit, you broke the chains. You systematically went through the ship, indulging as much as you wanted before slipping away into the dark of night. But you didn't remember doing that this time. 

There was a pang in your side. Moving the fabric aside, you saw that your wound was finally healing. There was some kind of salve put on it. You don't know why anyone would be so stupid as to heal a predator among them. You looked around the room for your things. Your clothes were there, but your weapon was not. You slipped onto the deck after changing, hoping to locate your sword and get out of there. There was another problem. A lot of your energy was used to process healing. You couldn't transform until you fed again. The safest bet would be the blonde one, but that would require you to sneak around longer than you would like. 

"Lookin for somethin?," a somewhat cheerful voice said from behind you.

You turned quickly in a defensive stance. "Where's my sword?"

He ignored the question and pointed to your wound. "That doesn't look good. You should rest some more." 

You narrowed your eyes. "Why are you helping me?" 

"Felt like it." He shrugged. He continued to stare at you with round, kind eyes. "You should join my crew." 

It was unsettling. His eyes never once looked away from yours to look at your body. How could you not have any effect on him at all? "Why would you want that?"

"You seem strong. And your wings are really cool. Could you fly me around? That would be awesome." He rattled off a string of thoughts as they came to him.

How odd. "I don't think your friends would like that." You grinned a toothy grin. "I did try to eat them."

"They'll get over it." He smiled wide. "Robin and Franky tried to hurt some people on the crew once, but now they're good. Everyone does bad stuff sometimes but that doesn't mean they're a bad person." 

You never considered your actions as good or bad, simply seeing them as survival. This was confusing. Maybe you were having a fever dream. It was hurting your head. Sirens were solitary creatures by nature. You had never considered what it would be like to live or work with others. Almost shyly, you inquired further, "And if I did, what would my job be?"

He thought for a second, with his finger tapping his chin. "Oh! A scout! You could fly ahead and see what's goin on when we get to an island or somthin." 

"And what if I don't like being on a crew?" 

"You'll like being on my crew. Don't worry." He grinned widely again. "I'm Luffy and I'm gonna be King of the Pirates! Who are you?"

"I'm..." You thought for a moment. The name you had been given was a gesture, a hand sign. It was easier to communicate under the water with hands, not words. There was no need to tell anyone your name before, now realizing that you couldn't say it out loud. And the things you werecalled out loud ranged from "witch" to "monster" to "mermaid" to "vampire", etc. "I'm of the ether." You tried to explain your domain, thinking he would get it. You didn't know that your culture was not common knowledge, closer to a myth actually, though that would explain why no one ever called you a siren. 

"Ether." He said, testing it out. "Welcome to the crew, Ether." 

You opened your mouth to correct him, but shut it. It's not like you had another name to give him instead. Ether. A faint smile touched your lips. It sounded nice. "Now what?" It was hard to refuse him for some reason. Some kind of magnetism. A thought brushed your mind: you would get to see more of the green one.

[lavendertales]

Sweet lies: Chapter 7**

pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

summary: getting that voice message from you is the last thing Frankie needs on his mind. As it turns out, it completely messes up his intentions.

word count: 4.1k

WARNINGS: cunnilingus, male masturbation, piv (safe).

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

Comments & reblogs are always appreciated 💕

gif: @javier-pena​ 

series masterlist | AO3

A headache replaces your usual morning alarm. You wake up confused, a little sweaty too, one eye open, the other one shut. You check your surroundings: you’re in your bed, the clothes from last night thrown carelessly on the floor.

You rise halfway, daring to open the other eye, and the headache worsens somehow. You realize it’s Saturday, and you couldn’t be more grateful at this very moment. You get to lounge and nurse your hangover today, and that is all anyone could ask for right now.

The phone on your nightstand reveals that it’s 10:31 a.m. You think that you should at least nibble on something before taking something for the pestering headache. The only thing you can digest right now is some toast, so you practically crawl your way into the kitchen to make just that. Your phone rings incessantly, the sound earning a loud grunt from you. You grab it from your nightstand, pleasantly remarking it’s Rose. You couldn’t handle anyone else today.

“You’re alive, that’s a good sign,” you say.

“Alive might be an overstatement.”

“You’re the one who said we were gonna get drunk last night.”

“You agreed to it.”

“True. But you knew what you were in for. You know you’re lightweight compared to me.”

“Oh, please, you had two extra cocktails, big deal.”

“How are you doing?”

“Well, I’m under my blankets with a big cup of coffee and ready to pop pills like the world ends tomorrow. Which, based on my headache, it might.”

You chuckle, putting the phone on speaker and placing it on the table as you start buttering your toast.

“How are you doing?” Rose asks.

“Pretty much the same as you. Making some toast and ready to pop every headache pill in sight.”

“Ohh, some toast would be nice.”

“Come over and I’ll make you some.”

“But I’m all snuggled up!”

You laugh, triggering more of your headache.

“Oh hey, do you remember me talking on the phone last night?” you ask.

“Uh… I remember me talking on the phone. Oh, right, fucking work called.”

“It’s so weird, I feel like I’m the one who did the talking.”

You struggle to recall what you did specifically, but it all comes in patches, nothing short of blurriness.

“Oh hey, seems I called Frankie last night,” Rose says.

“You did? Why?”

“Honey, I don’t even know how the hell I managed to take my clothes off before getting into bed and yet I left the boots on. So unfortunately, I got no clue as to why I called Frankie.”

Something clicks in your head, and you gasp out loud. A clear picture forms in your mind, and you remain in shock.

“You didn’t call him,” you mutter. “I did.”

“What?”

“Oh God. Oh no, no, no.”

“Why did you—“

“I thought your phone was mine! I—I was drunk, I was scrolling and… I don’t know why I called him! This is why we never drunk dial!”

“I’m so sorry, I—I would’ve stopped you if I was there.”

“I know, I know. This… this isn’t on you. This is my fault. Just the call, not—“

“Not what?”

You falter, shutting your mouth just in time. You take a deep breath, trying to recall more specific things.

“What did you guys talk about?” Rose asks timidly.

“We didn’t talk. I… left him a voice message.”

“Saying…?”

“Saying… that he owes me an apology for the way he left. And… and that he should make things right.”

The second secret you are now keeping from Rose. It’s starting to bottle up, but you still don’t feel ready for that little shameful thing to come to surface. Best you deal with it quietly.

And what you need to do, as fast as you can, is sort things out with Frankie.

“Can you text me Frankie’s number?” you ask Rose. “I need to call him.”

She coos your name, softly yet sternly, and you huff.

“I do actually need to talk to him this time,” you say. “I’ve sobered up, and I am ready to face the consequences of my actions.”

“Fine. Just—be careful.”

“Why?”

“Because, honey, you’re about to have a big conversation with the man you’ve described as the love of your life, who so happens to be engaged. It’s dangerous territory. Not just for you. For anyone with feelings.”

You inhale, realizing the truth behind her kind words.

“It’ll be fine,” you reassure her and yourself simultaneously. “I don’t want to do anything that might jeopardize his relationship with Andrea.”

“Good. Call me whenever it’s done.”

“I will. Now go eat something. Love you.”

“I will. Love you too.”

You wait a decent amount of time before your headache has subsided, going through all of last weekend’s events, as well as last night’s. You slowly start to remember every word you’d drunkenly told him, and you feel yourself falling apart. The more you stare at Frankie’s phone number, the larger the pit in your stomach is. There’s no liquid poison in your system now to give you courage, so you just gotta do it.

You exhale loudly, ready to call, then you hear the doorbell. You grunt, rushing to go to the door so you can dispose of whoever it is.

Then, as you answer the door, your heart stills.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, stunned.

Frankie stares you down, munching on his lower lip, clearly upset. “Asked Pope for your address. Figured we should talk face to face.”

“Sure. Come on in.”

The minute Frankie crosses the threshold into your apartment, there’s a knot in your throat, persistent and painful. You observe him from afar at first, watching him pace around the living room, hands on his hips. Who knows what’s in his head, how nervous he is. You know he got your message, and now you are waiting for the inevitable explosion.

“We said we’re just acquaintances,” Frankie grumbles, facing away. “That voice message was anything but that.”

“I was drunk! This is why we don’t let drunk people dial! And Rose should’ve been able to stop me, had she not taken a work call when we were binge drinking. Which now, as I’m saying it out loud, might’ve been a ruse so she could have sex phone with Santi.”

Frankie makes a grossed out face, and then it hits him.

“Rose and Pope?” he asks under his breath. “You mean, you two aren’t…?”

You scoff, growing more and more upset. “No, you moron! No, we’re just friends, we’re close friends like you and I were before you decided to just walk out on everything we had!”

“I didn’t walk out, okay? It’s more difficult than that.”

“Then help me understand! Tell me something useful, something that might explain to me why you destroyed our friendship, and why you broke my heart. Explain it to me, Francisco.”

He falters, his nostrils flaring in anger and disappointment. At himself, at his stupid actions, when all he should’ve done is talk to you, communicate.

Words cut deep though, they carve wounds that may only scar. Yet now, with this wound, it feels like you are both picking at the freshly created scab, rubbing it furiously and pouring alcohol over it.

“How could you say those things to me?” Frankie suddenly asks, and it’s picking at the scab even more.

There is so much anger building up inside you once you hear him say those words with such bold audacity that it makes you see red.

“How could I?” you retaliate. “You really wanna get into a ‘how could you’ game?”

“You know what? I really do. We’re having the conversation, now.”

“Okay, fine. How could you kiss me? Why?”

Face reddened with the shade of regret and shame, Frankie simply stares at you, his mind involuntarily replaying that damned kiss in his head, along with the night the two of you said your goodbyes and he practically begged you to stay.

“Why, Francisco?” you repeat.

“Why do you think?” he grunts, almost as if in pain.

“I can’t let myself think about that. It’s wrong.”

“I didn’t say it was right. But I did it because I wanted to. Deep down… I wanted to.”

There you have it. The most visceral, unexpected and wild response you could’ve ever gotten. It’s very flattering, and it shouldn’t be.

“How could you just end our friendship? How could you just walk away after everything we’ve shared?”

“You were leaving and we agreed we were great as friends.”

“But then you left me anyway, and that’s a load of crap! It’s what people tell each other to make themselves feel better about their stupid, cowardly choices! Guess what, nothing in my life was better after that! I’m not one of those girls whose world revolves around a guy, but losing one of my best friends was horrid. I left abroad and I was miserable for a good portion of my studies because I kept wondering what I did wrong, what could I possibly have done differently and I hated that. I hated how much you made me second-guess my own worth. I swore to myself that no one would ever do that to me again, and here I fucking am, going through it all over again. And because of you, again!”

Frankie stares at the floor, smiling to himself in frustration.

“It wasn’t you,” he mutters under his breath.

“Excuse me?”

“It wasn’t you.”

You chuckle mockingly. “Great, here comes the ‘it wasn’t you, it was me’ speech.”

But Frankie’s anger merely simmers beneath the surface. There is more to it, boiling underneath, and has been for a while. None of it is about you, though. It’s about the unfair and cruel choices he’s made, and how he forced himself to be the better man and make the right decisions for everyone.

Only to mess up anyway.

“It was me, okay?” he grunts, inching towards you. “I met Andrea a few months after you left, we became friends and—“

Your chuckle turns into a manic laughter, paralyzed by your own disappointment.

“You cut me out of your life because you’ve made a new friend?” you say as acidly and mockingly as possible. “Really? Are you fucking kidding me right now? That is the lamest, stupidest, most hurtful—“

“I had to cut you out of my life because she’s not you!”

The way he’s shouting, it’s filled with pain and betrayal, betrayal from his own self. None of this is actually because of you. He could never be mad at you, he could never hate you, and he could never fully get your out of his head.

Or his heart.

“I had to do it,” he continues, eyes dark and apologetic. “And I had to do it because… you were following your dream, I couldn’t fucking stop you from doing that. You’ve always wanted to study abroad, it was your dream.”

He makes a disapproving noise, resuming his pacing around the living room.

“The night we met, when you told me you got into Cambridge… you’ve never looked so happy, so accomplished. And I was so proud of you, so damn happy for you, I swear I was. But that night…”

You hear his voice break in the slightest, and it aches you, for reasons you know damn well, and for the same reasons you’re struggling to keep it all bottled up inside, deep, deep down.

“What?” you ask, nearly pleading, and it aches Frankie just as much.

He inhales profoundly, reminiscing of that memory. “That night, when you told me you go in and that you were moving away… I was going to tell you that I loved you,” he confesses. “I asked you out so that I could tell you that. And then you broke the news and… I couldn’t stop you from following your dream. Even if all I wanted to do in that moment was to tell you that I loved you and that I wanted you to stay. It would’ve been selfish. I’ve actually wished you would’ve never gotten into that college, just so you could stay. It scared the crap out of me to acknowledge that I could be so careless and cruel that I wanted you to fail, just so that I could have you there with me, with all of us. And I know that what I’ve done instead isn’t any better and I am truly so, so sorry for hurting you, but… at least it offered you the space to be the best.”

You stare at him, utterly bewildered. You wanted the truth and now you’ve got it. You just didn’t think it would be this painful, this eye-opening. You hadn’t expected it to cut you so deep, and you certainly hadn’t expected it to make you question your very own morals.

“You… you really were coming over to tell me that?”

His voice is small and fearful as he replies, “Yes. I was.”

He’s standing so close to you now, it’s like his presence is invading all of your senses. It’s like you’re full with him, like he surrounds you in ways you would’ve never thought of as possible.

“Look, Andrea is not you, okay?” he resumes, staring at you with big, puppy eyes. “She could never be you, and… I couldn’t spend the rest of my relationship wondering if I made the right choice.”

“Did you?”

“We’re engaged. Or… we were.”

The moment the words roll down his tongue, in such a blunt and almost careless way, you can’t help but stare at him in shock.

“You were? What happened?”

You gulp, fearing that this isn’t about you. You hope and pray that it’s not about that hasty kiss you shared with Frankie, or the voice message, because you know you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you were the sole reason why his engagement fell apart.

“She’s having second thoughts,” Frankie replies. Fears, doubts, whatever the hell you wanna call them. So we agreed to take a break.”

“So what does that mean? Is the wedding off?”

“I don’t know, okay? I don’t know anything, I just—it’s hard to tell left from right when your perfume is… all over the place. When you’re just so… soft. And you’re here and… Andrea and I can’t ever agree on a single damn thing about our future together, if there’s any at the moment. And… we’re not together right now, and haven’t really been in weeks.”

His warm breath is all over your face, so you close your eyes in hopes that if you don’t see him so up close, you won’t surrender. You hope that if you close your eyes, somehow, you’d be able to keep him away, to not listen to the pestering little voice at the back of your mind and how it makes you burn, itch, crave and yearn all at once for something you can’t have.

Something you shouldn’t have.

It still feels wrong and forbidden, no matter what Frankie says. You can feel it in your bones, in your gut, and you can’t just let it slide, not even when one of his calloused hands grazes your cheek ever so tenderly that your whole body trembles. But perhaps the forbidden aspect is what makes everything so much more enticing, so appealing in so many ways that you would never consider otherwise.

You linger with your own motions, and it’s all a dangerously slippery slope from hereon after. His forehead is pressed against yours, your unsteady breaths in sync as they become the sole sound in the whole apartment. When you open your eyes, Frankie does too, and you find yourselves staring at each other in a pleading manner. All you can feel right now are his hands on your hips, touching only tentatively, but even that is sending you over the edges of sanity.

It gets a bit blurry after that. You feel his mouth on yours again, this time in a deeper, sloppier kiss that instantly turns you both into a couple of sinners.

What’s worse, you find yourself reciprocating without much hesitation. You don’t fight it as much, even though you probably should. Truthfully, it’s been a long time since you felt something even remotely close to the way your body feels right now, and a dark side of you doesn’t want this to end.

But nothing about the way Frankie expertly presses his body onto yours feels sinful. It almost feels… natural. Like you should’ve been doing this for a long time. Greediness consumes you both as you stumble onto your bedroom, clashing on the bed with Frankie atop of you. As his mouth starts to leave a wet trail down your jaw and neck, you spread your legs, thus allowing him space to grind in between. Each touch is electric, every passing second tormenting and ecstatic. Neither of you says anything; you both want to prolong this moment as much as you can, but you also want it done fast, rough and messy, get it over with.

You watch in a trance as Frankie’s strong arms pull down your pants and along with your underwear. The sight is making you feel drunker than you were last night, like you’re about to explode if you won’t get through with this.

Frankie’s just as impatient; he’s so hard now that he might just come in his pants like a pathetic whiny teenager at the sight of you fully on display like this. Your pussy is nearly glistening with slickness, now being completely engulfed by Frankie’s mouth. His mustache and stubble tickle you, awakening senses in you that make you think you’ve been kissing and sleeping with the wrong people all your adult life. Simply feeling him like this is enough to make you go crazy.

You could easily come just like this. It’s maddening, the sensation of sufficiency and insufficiency, both in a delicious juxtaposition with each other. Your fingers snake their way up into his hair, tugging roughly, thus earning a grunt from him that reverberates throughout your pussy. The vibration sends you in overdrive; you desperately try to rub yourself against his face while Frankie’s hands hold your thighs in place, his tongue licking furiously against your folds, his nose nudged into your clit.

The white, hot pleasure that sears through you is nearly debilitating. Frankie knows what he’s doing, collecting every ounce of arousal he can right into his mouth. You can’t help the moans that escape your mouth, and yet you do everything in your power to not moan his name. That is the one thing you cannot do. If you do it, if you allow him and yourself that… you’ll give this affair all the power to destroy you all.

Words flee from your mind. The sounds emerging from in between your legs are downright obscene, glib, but God, they’re perfect. Frankie is just as riled up, if not more; he can’t think straight anymore, not when he’s quite drunk on you and tasting you so intimately, giving you exactly what you want and need. He fumbles with unzipping his jeans, needing more. He’s so hard, it hurts to even touch the hem of his boxers. But he has to, he needs this so fucking much, it’s consuming him entirely.

When he finally curls his hand around his cock, he grunts against your cunt, probably grunting some nonsensical words too, but it’s just as irrelevant as talking at all. You trigger each other through the sounds of pleasure emanating from your bodies: you moan, he moans. You rub yourself against his face, he fists his cock faster. You’re both driven by lust, the sensation having its roots deep into other emotions as well: love, abandonment, disappointment, everything else that makes up your history with each other.

Once you come, your body seizes up, legs locked around his face while Frankie still drinks from you. He feels his own climax creeping up on him, so he forces himself to stop. It’s more hurtful than before, but if he’s gonna sin, he might as well do it properly.

He wants to feel you. Wholly, completely unbound and unhinged. So he licks his lips, taking just a fleeting second to admire you beautifully fucked out face, and how mesmerizing you are.

No thinking, he reminds himself. No thinking, no talking, just living in this immoral moment.

So he searches in the pockets of his jeans, not even pulled down properly, but just enough to allow him wiggle room to stroke himself. Alas, he finds the little pesky wrapper and quickly tears it off, placing the condom on his cock, and kneading the flesh of your thighs with tenderness before he guides himself to your entrance.

You watch in awe, your heart beating so fast with anticipation that it almost bursts out of your chest. You want to beg, to mutter something, but you fear that if you talk, it might give this moment more meaning, and you refuse to do that.

You gasp, the sound broken in tiny little pieces when you finally feel Frankie inside you. You’re both still half dressed, too eager and aware of what you are doing to properly do this, but you do know that you are solely guided by lust and forbidden love. Frankie makes a sound like he’s choking, and you can see it on his face that he’s falling apart too, perhaps much more than you are. He rolls his lips once, twice, and the way he’s sliding into you has you seeing stars.

It’s never felt this way before.

You know that it’s because of how you feel about him, but even if you’d voice that, it would be futile. The situation is too precarious already, and you can’t give this moment any more meaning than it already has.

The pace Frankie sets is slow at first, simply feeling you gush around him, warm and tight and so, so full of him. His head falls in the crook of your neck, his hair messy and forehead sweaty as he gives into what you both so desperately crave. You can feel his lips trying to pepper kisses on your neck, his breaths fast and irregular. You hold him by the back of his neck, your touch careful and sweet as he snaps his hips faster, desperate, just like the two of you. That’s just how you need it, speedy and a little bit rough. Too much regret eats you alive to not seize the moment, too many unspoken words and far too much unrequited love contained in the same place.

Frankie is absolutely lost in you, in your scent, in your taste, all of you. He is so hungry and desperate for you, all he can think about is coming. And he feels it crashing over him in no time; he spills himself inside the condom, his thrusts now sloppy as his body reaches ecstasy. His breath is harsh against your neck, his eyes dying to find yours, to gaze lovingly into them.

But he can’t. It would mean too much. It would completely devastate him if he’d do that while he came.

So he doesn’t. He looks everywhere but directly into your eyes, and you do the same. You avoid his facial expression to the best of your abilities, even though you’re already addicted to this feeling, and you suspect he is, too. But now that it’s over, now that Frankie finds enough strength to pull out of you and clean himself up before he leaves without uttering a single word, he knows this made things even worse. He knows this complicates things further, and he can’t help but think back to Andrea and her decision to press pause on their relationship and what it truly means. He momentarily wonders if she had done something similar.

But it’s too much, both reeling from the crushing force of his orgasm and how it felt to be inside you at last, and thinking about the reasons why marriage might no longer be an option. He can’t think about all of that, his head hurts as much as his joints and heart.

He does throw you a glance before he leaves, as if apologizing. You understand as much, and you share that feeling as much. If you couldn’t stop thinking about a pathetic little kiss, how were you going to be able to keep this out of your mind?

How will you—or he—be able to face each other, knowing what you did, and how much it meant to both of you?

previous | next

[ask-aurachnid]

Proceed With Caution

Part 1: Tricks and Illusions

[TW: delusions, hallucinations, intrusive thoughts, psychosis]

Word Count: 1.2k

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

Frankie loses more time, slipping through their fingers like sand, buried under the cacophony of screaming whispers. They fade in and out of consciousness with no break from the nightmares, heart racing and ribs creaking with every hitching, unsteady breath.

"What heart? What lungs? You're empty, Frankie. Empty, empty, empty~"

There are hands around their ankle, claws slicing into their skin, but they don't react. There's no point.

"This is all your fault, parasite."

He's right. He's walking away and it's all their fault. All because they're a hollow little cuckoo. They should have known better.

Time slips away again, and now their suit has started to dry, but they're still so cold, frost crackling against their skin. There's a heavy suppression collar digging into their neck.

"You deserve this. You're a threat."

Frankie tries to shake their head, to deny it. They never meant to hurt anyone! Please don't lock me up!

"Lock you up? Oh no, we have bigger plans for a marvel like you."

Metal cuffs, holding them down, the smell of antiseptic, the searing lights of a surgical theater, needles, scalpels, and a knock on the door.

What?

Another knock, impossibly loud and drowning out the voices. Frankie goes still, holding their breath.

"They're coming for you, Frankie. They're at your door."

Frankie explodes into motion, flinging themself off of their bed and away from the door. The floor is cold as they press into the space between the nightstand and the wall. They need to hide!

"Too late."

There's a key in the lock, a streak of glaring light as the door swings open, a voice calling their name as she reaches for the light switch. A flickering yellow glow, rain dripping from her coat as she hangs it up.

"Frankie? Are you here?" she calls again. Her voice is so loud, it makes their ears hurt.

She steps further into the apartment, the old floorboards creaking under her feet. Tweed pants and the smell of old books. Curly red hair and sunny warmth that cracks the ice.

"I saw the news, and you weren't answering your phone," she says. She sounds scared. Like she's walking into a lion's den. "Please tell me you're okay."

The pressure in Frankie's chest bursts, shattering the silence and giving them away.

"Frankie!" Nicky gasps, rushing toward them.

"You're going to hurt her."

Frankie flinches back violently. "Don't touch me!" they shout, digging their fingers into their arms and squeezing their eyes shut.

The silence that follows is deafening, and when Frankie finally dares to open their eyes again, Nicky has paused, taking slow, measured steps backward, her hands raised in a placating gesture. She looks confused. Join the club.

"Okay, sweetheart," she soothes, crouching to make herself smaller. "I'm not going to touch you. It's okay. You're safe here."

That's not the problem.

"No, not safe for you," Frankie says. "I'm dangerous. You should go far, far away. Go where I can't hurt you."

Nicky frowns, curls bouncing as she tilts her head, red ringing her face like a halo of blood. It drips down her cheeks and Frankie can't look at her anymore, staring at the floor between them. There's a blue stain on the wood.

"Can you look at me, Frankie?"

They shake their head, eyes fixed on the smear of blue.

"Okay. That's fine. Just take a deep breath for me, nice and easy."

Why bother?

"Can't," they reply, gaze skittering over to the bed. There's a dark smear on their sheets, rusty brown on forest green.

"Yes, you can," Nicky says patiently.

"No," they insist. "'cause I don't have any lungs. My chest is hollow. It's empty."

The silence stretches like taffy. Like a rubber band ready to snap.

"You've totally lost it. She thinks you're crazy~"

"Shut up!" Frankie hisses, snapping their head around to glare at the wall.

Nicky swears under her breath, drowning out the giggling.

"Baby, did Mysterio hit you with anything? A needle or maybe some type of gas?"

Frankie glances back toward Nicky with a frown, gaze fixating on the shiny brown of her Oxfords.

"Mm-hmm," they answer, nodding. "The titans were pixels. I called her a liar. It was a giant pill filled with so much green smoke. Burning sugar. It made my eyes itch."

“Okay, okay.” Nicky gives a heavy sigh, shifting her weight back onto her heels. “I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?”

Frankie nods again.

“Good.” Nicky pauses for a couple of seconds. “I think that green smoke was some sort of psychedelic, and I think it’s still affecting you, making you hear things that aren’t real and think things that aren’t true.”

“Wow, she’s a smart one. Way too smart for you.”

Frankie ignores the jab. “Makes sense,” they respond to Nicky instead.

“Yeah?” She sounds relieved. “So do you think you could try taking a deep breath for me again?”

They already explained this, didn’t they?

“I know what you said, but just humor me? All you need to do is try.”

Reluctantly, Frankie does what they’re told, forcing their spasming diaphragm to slow, lungs expanding with a stutter. What?

What?

“That’s it, Frankie. You’re doing so good. Can you do it again?”

Frankie sucks in another breath and it tastes like blood and rancid sweat. Their heart pounds like a drum under their bruised sternum. Oh gods, their chest hurts. They’d forgotten.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Keep going.”

They manage another two, heartbeat slowing. On the third exhale, things fall apart again, a violent sob pulled from their heavy, full chest. Tears pour from their eyes.

“Frankie? What’s wrong?” Nicky sounds alarmed.

“Everything!” they wail. “Everything h-hurts and nothing makes sense! I feel so s-scared, and I don’t know w-why! Everyone’s gone! They l-left and I know it’s all my fault but I’m so confused! I can’t e-e-even tell what’s real! I’m hearing voices!”

“It’s gonna be okay, Frankie,” Nicky says softly. “I know it probably feels like the world’s ending, but we’re gonna get through it. We’ll take it one step at a time, okay?”

Frankie can’t form words around their sobs anymore, so they just nod, rubbing at their eyes more roughly than they probably should.

“Good. We’ll start easy,” she says. “Just breathe with me. That’s all you have to worry about right now.”

Frankie follows Nicky’s lead with shaking unsteady breaths, one after the other until they stop feeling so faint. It’s easier to ignore the voices when they have something to focus on.

“Good job, handsome. Just keep doing that,” Nicky praises. “Can I come sit next to you?”

Frankie tries to keep their breathing steady, but they can’t help the way the idea makes them flinch.

“I won’t touch you, not until you’re ready,” she promises. “And you won’t hurt me. I’m just gonna sit a bit closer. Is that okay?”

Frankie feels like a cornered animal, and they hate it. So, they take another breath and nod, tucking their knees just a touch closer to their chest.

“Okay. I’m gonna stand up and walk over there. Just keep breathing for me.”

[mvrphys]

@frankieshq​

“yo, francesca!” murphy smirked, plopping down beside the other on the sand, “havin’ fun yet?” he tipped his head back, closing his eyes as he took in the sun, “spotted any cute girls yet? wanna get your summer fling on?” he was mostly teasing- mostly, “i could be your wingman!” he sat up and steepled his fingers under his chin as if deep in thought- a very rare occurrence for him, “so what’s your type? we can sift through the choices out here.” 

[eddiesbug]

eager [f.castle]

summary: you come home to your boyfriend hammered and clingy. secrets are revealed.

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

fandom: mcu

word count: 1347

warnings: reader throws up, literally all fluff n loving, frank being the bestest<33, touch starved reader, a little talk about reader punishing herself, frank uses all the good pet names😋 and he cooks!!

note: i’m back from being banned😭🤭 i had so much fun n i’m so proud of this so if anyone is mean I WILL CRY. and i’m sorry there’s no readmore line again but tumblr is all buggy and deleting bits every time i put one in:((

“Fr-Frankie!” Your voice slurs as you worm your way into Frank’s lap, your head lolling with the effects of the alcohol. Your mini dress rides up as you climb and he presses his fingers into the soft curve of your hip, drawing you in. You settle into him with a smile.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he chuckles. He didn’t know what exactly to expect when you came home hammered at 2am, but it wasn’t this. You’re not overly fond of affection at the best of times, pretty much avoiding contact altogether, so for you to be initiating this at all, zero coaxing involved, is strange.

“I missed you,” you giggle, craning into him as he pushes the hair from your sweaty face. A hum rips from your throat and you hook your arms underneath his on the sofa. He brushes his nose across your jaw.

“I missed you too, baby. You feelin’ alright?” he asks, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead; you’re hot to the touch. You nod, pressing your nose to the juncture of his neck and inhaling; you’re met with the scent of slight sweat and the last tinge of cologne from the previous day.

“So pretty…” you say, your hand reaching out to stroke Frank’s face in bewilderment.

“Hm?”

“You.”

“I’m pretty?” he laughs.

“The pr-pre-prettiest.” Your words start to merge into one and he shushes you, soft lips grazing your temple.

“My girl is prettier,” he answers, voice dripping with sincerity. You frown, head shooting up to meet his eyes.

“Who’s your girl?” you ask, the beginnings of tears getting stuck in your throat. In your inebriated state, you have honestly forgotten that Frank is your boyfriend. “I’m- I’m gonna f-fight her.”

“What’re you gonna cry for, baby? I’m talkin’ ‘bout you.” He keeps his tone light, cupping the back of your head with his calloused hand.

“Oh.”

“Silly thing. Why would I want anyone but you?”

“‘Cause I never wanna cuddle,” you pout. He shakes his head.

“I don’t care about that. Sure, it’s nice to cuddle, but I want you to be happy most of all.”

“Can I tell you a sec-secret?” you whisper, although it’s comically loud - almost louder than your normal speaking voice. You hiccup, pestering your way further into his lap.

“Yeah?”

“I always wanna cuddle.”

“That so?”

“Y-yeah. Scared you’ll get annoyed so I don’t say anythin’. Wait for you to ask.” His expression softens and he kisses your head. He never realised that you might be depriving yourself of touch to punish yourself, or worse, because you thought you’d be irritating him. He can’t get enough of you.

“Oh, baby. My baby.” Drawing you closer, his body engulfs yours completely; you mumble something halfheartedly, curling into him. Everything seems to shake ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly and you’re sure Frank doesn’t notice. He catches your expression, brow furrowing. His closeness has you breaking into a full body flush. “You’re shaking, darlin’.”

“Jus’ don’t let go of me,” you whisper, pressing your face to his chest.

“Alright, ‘ve got you.”

You stay like that for a while, cradled in his arms, eyes closed, until your stomach lurches uneasily. You blanch, dry heaving.

“Frankie…”

“Mm.”

“Gonna be sick.” You retch, trying to scramble free of Frank’s grasp and run to the bathroom. Instead, he lifts you with virtually no effort, sitting you in front of the toilet and gathering your hair at the nape of your neck just in time for you to start emptying your stomach contents. He soothes you with the softest voice, kissing the back of your neck and whispering encouraging words despite how disgusting you must look right now.

“Attagirl,” he murmurs, “What a good girl.” Your eyes flutter closed and you slump against the toilet seat, breathing heavily. He immediately lifts you, flushing the vomit away and closing the seat; just that helps the nausea ebb away as the seconds pass. He perches you on the seat, wiping your sweaty face with a cold cloth and grabbing the toothbrush you keep at his apartment at all times. He spreads a little toothpaste over the bristles, parting your lips with his thumb and brushing them gently.

“Good girl, let’s rinse your mouth,” he coos; you oblige without thinking, letting him hold you up by the waist and wipe your face with a towel. Your body goes completely lax and he cushions your head with his shoulder, handling you as though you’ll break at any second.

“Love you,” you mumble, hooking your legs around his waist as he hoists you into his arms. He makes for the kitchen with you securely in his hold.

“I love you too. You feel a bit better now?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s get you some water and something to eat, pretty.”

“‘m not hungry!” you squeak, hiccuping drunkenly, although you’re considerably less plastered than when you got home.

“You don’t have to eat it, but it might help soak up some of the alcohol, alright?”

“‘kay…” you trail off, worrying your lip between your teeth.

“What you thinkin’ about, hm?”

“Nothin’.”

“I can hear the gears turning. C’mon, out with it.” He kneads your side with sympathetic fingers, squeezing and releasing, squeeze, release.

“‘s it okay if I wanna touch more? Like cuddle ‘nd hold your hand?” Your voice is a fragment of its usual volume and you wince, preparing yourself for the rejection before he even has time to react.

“How could I say no to that, hm?” The relief at his statement is palpable. “If you wanna hang onto me forever like a little koala bear, I wouldn’t say no to you. You know that, baby. I want you to have everythin’ you’ve ever wanted.”

“Jus’ want you,” you murmur, peppering a trail of kisses over his face and neck. “Love you so much.”

“C’mon, my pretty. Whatcha fancy to eat?” He smiles, setting you down on a stool, hands out to catch you should you wobble tipsily. Once he’s sure you’re steady, he moves to the fridge. “How about some eggs?” You shake your head, nose scrunched.

“They make me feel sicky.”

“Alright, darlin’. How about pasta?”

“Pasta sounds good, Frankie.”

“Pasta it is, baby.”

You admire him shamelessly as he busies himself with your meal, ogling his thick biceps and his sharp jawline. The black t-shirt he wears hugs him just right, exposing his muscular physique to you.

“You enjoying the show, darlin’?” he drawls amusedly, sending you a cheeky wink. You flush, averting your eyes.

“Sorry.”

“C’mere, pretty girl.” His arms open and you wobble off of the stool and into his embrace. The affection, still so abnormal to you, makes you tremble.

“I’ve gotcha, baby. Not lettin’ you go anytime soon.”

Finally, when he’s finished making the pasta, something you never thought someone would do for you, let alone at half past two in the morning, he sets it onto the table and sits down, inviting you into his lap. You clamber onto him, hands roaming his chest. You’re eager to feel his skin on yours, fingers splayed over his throat and under his t-shirt. This new found appreciation for his touch has made you greedy and Frank is in heaven.

“Should’a gotten you drunk sooner if I knew you’d be this needy, baby.” He beams at you, dotting kisses over the entire expanse of your face. With his free hand, he spears a piece of pasta with a fork and lifts it to your lips. “Here, darlin’.” You take it gratefully, humming.

“‘s good!”

“Attagirl.”

You eat in silence until you’re full, pushing the bowl away and curling your body into Frank’s.

“Sorry I kept you up.”

“I couldn’t sleep without my girl anyway.”

You giggle; the lilting sound compels Frank to kiss you, his lips melding against yours like a puzzle piece.

Before he can find it in himself to move you, you’re fast asleep against his shoulder, snoring softly with your arms underneath his t-shirt, cool against his warm skin. You cling to him even as you sleep soundly.

[kikis-writing-world]

Whole Enchilada

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader

Words: ~2k

This is a silly, self-indulgent drabble. I got one of those delivery meal kits and it came with enchiladas. I fucked them up. They were edible, but they weren’t good. Well, in the few days since The Incident, this formed in my mind. I was just excited to be writing anything again. Hope you enjoy it.

Also, while I don’t think I say so much in words, I usually write Frankie with Chilean heritage for obvious reasons. I know enchiladas aren’t Chilean, but I wanted to pay tribute to the dish that started it. That’s also why I start with Santiago bringing them up. I just don’t want anyone coming at me about mixing up cultures :)

Not proofread or betaed. I don’t believe there are any warnings but read on at your own risk.

Frankie felt reinvigorated as he pulled into the driveway, the fatigue of a long day at work making way for the excitement and relief of making it home. He couldn’t stop the soft smile from appearing as he thought about it. He’d spent years of his life chasing a home, never quite finding somewhere that felt right enough to set roots. His teen years were spent at friends’ houses and roaming the city, never quite feeling at home after his mother passed away. Enlisting after graduation had him traveling the world, fighting for Uncle Sam with nothing to show for it except a meager pension, a collection of scars, and a broken mind. He slid easily into drug use after he left the army, using to quiet the echoes of war that hid in the shadows of his mind. With the white powder in his veins, the need for a home didn’t feel so oppressive.

It wasn’t an easy hole to dig himself out of and he never would have gotten there without help. His brothers in arms kicking his ass back into shape, the VA and their therapy for veterans struggling to return to civilian life, and more than one stint in a rehab facility. The memory of the withdrawal was enough to make him shiver in real life. The sensation helped him shake the memory of his time in that sterile environment - the shakes, the pain, the all consuming need to use - and brought him back to the present. To his home. To you.

It took him almost 40 years to find what he was looking for and when he did, it hit him like a slap in the face. He had never found home because home wasn’t somewhere. It was someone. Meeting you had been like stepping out of a dark cave and seeing the beach for the first time. The musty, stale air replaced with refreshing ocean air, the bright sun warming his chilled, dull skin. He was a moth drawn to the bright light you introduced to his life and as long as he stayed in that light, home could be anywhere.

He pushed open the creaky door to his old, brown truck, giving himself the same mental reminder he always did to oil it one of these days. The thought was fleeting and likely to be forgotten as it had been millions of times before. As the door slammed shut behind him, his focus turned back to you, to home, just on the other side of the recently painted blue door.

The scent of chili powder hung heavy in the air, almost enough to make him cough as he crossed the threshold. It tickled at his nose and pricked at his eyes, mixing with the scent of other spices and something that smelled a little too much like something burning. Worried, He called your name through the house.

“It’s fine, it’s okay, I just-” your voice rang through the house, panicking until you cut yourself off with a loud, frustrated groan. The tap in the kitchen turned on. Frankie kicked his boots off carelessly, leaving them lopsided on the floor in favor of hurrying to your side.

The kitchen looked like a disaster in progress. A baking pan sat on top of the stove, smoke billowing up from the charred remains of… Frankie couldn’t even tell what it was supposed to be. The hood above the stove was running full speed, pulling as much of the smoke out of the house as possible. A pot was sitting in the sink, water running into it and overflowing down the drain. A pan of roasted veggies sat, seemingly harmless amid the chaos. Evidence of the prep work was strewn about the counters: cutting board, knives, various spice jars.

You were a fair cook. You had a few favorite recipes you knew how to nail every time and some bigger recipes you made for potlucks or parties. Frankie had never seen you struggle to cook, which made the scene all the more shocking.

Finally, his eyes fell to you. You were sitting on the floor in front of the sink, leaning back into the cupboards behind you with your knees pulled up. Dried tear tracks cut through the flour dusted across one cheek as you picked at a loose thread on your jeans. Frankie saw the set of your jaw and the wobble of your bottom lip as you fought to keep it together.

First, Frankie reached over you to turn off the faucet. He slowly kneeled, groaning quietly as his knees popped and cracked, until he was on the floor with you.

“Mariposa, qué pasó?” He asked, resting his large, warm hands on your knees. “Are you okay?”

You nodded but avoided eye contact with him as you kept picking at the thread. He stared for a moment, wishing you’d meet his eyes. He watched as tears gathered anew along your lash line before cupping your chin softly in his hand. He lifted your face to his, leaving you with no choice but to make eye contact with him.

“What happened?” He asked again, patient as his thumb brushed away the first tear to break the dam.

“I- I was trying…” You mumbled, your voice hitching as you fought against your emotions. You took a breath and swallowed around the lump in your throat. “It’s stupid,” you shook your head as you rolled your eyes. The motion made more tears slip down your cheeks.

“It’s not stupid if you’re upset. Dime.” He prompted, brushing away more tears as they came.

You mumbled something quietly, stubborn and embarrassed. It was too low for Frankie to hear, so he quirked an eyebrow and leaned in closer, hoping you’d say it again.

You groaned, throwing your head back to thump against the cabinets. The sound echoed through the mostly-empty cabinet under the sink, making Frankie wince.

“This is all Santiago’s fault!” You cried out in frustration.

Frankie felt a wave of ice surge through him. Santiago was one of his oldest friends, but he was also one of the most reckless. Memories of Colombia flashed through his mind before he could stop them. “What did Pope do?” He asked, losing the fight to keep his voice level. His tone dropped, a dangerous, low timbre of warning.

“No, no, it’s not…” You rushed to put Frankie’s mind at ease. “It’s something he said… It’s so stupid, it shouldn’t be.”

As you rambled, Frankie stood with a long groan. Once he was at full height, he offered his hand to you. You bit your lip for a moment before accepting his help off the floor. He pulled you up easily, guiding you into his waiting arms. With your body tucked against his, he could feel the tension running through you. You gripped his flannel shirt, anchoring yourself as he ran his hand up and down your back in a comforting motion.

“What did Santiago say that made you burn…” Frankie trailed off, eyeing the pan on the oven. It had stopped smoking, so that was a good sign. He decided to play it safe, not trying to identify the mess. “Made you burn dinner?”

You didn’t answer right away, but Frankie gave you time. He nuzzled your hair as he waited for you to get your words together, smelling the scent of your shampoo under all the burnt spices in the air.

“Don’t laugh.” You finally muttered into his chest.

“Never.” He promised.

“Last week, at Benny’s place, for the barbeque…” You trailed off.

He nodded once, humming affirmatively that he remembered that night. He racked his brain, trying to remember what Santiago said that night. Nothing stuck out to him.

“He said... Hesaidthathednevermarrysomeonewhocouldntmakegoodenchiladas.” You spat out too quickly for Frankie to understand.

“Say that again?” He asked.

You pulled out of the hug, pacing as you ranted. “He said he’d never marry someone who couldn’t make good enchiladas and I realized that I don’t know how to cook enchiladas. Even worse, I don’t know how to cook empanadas or papa rellena or cazuela or anything you grew up eating and you’ll never marry me if I don’t learn how to cook something for you. You’re going to leave me for some beautiful latina who makes sopaipilla every Sunday and-”

Frankie had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing, but he promised. He caught your arm as you crossed the kitchen, stopping your pacing. He held you at arms length, rubbing your arms.

“Woah, tranquila, deep breaths.” He instructed, releasing one arm to brush your hair away from your face. He took a deep breath, trying to get you to follow. You blinked up at him as you inhaled, trying to match his pace.

“Please don’t leave me for-”

Frankie silenced you with a kiss, hoping that he was silencing Santiago’s voice in your mind along with any other doubts you held. You froze against him before returning the kiss, letting him lead as he caressed your lips with his own. He wrapped his arms around you, tangling one hand in your hair while the other rested on your back, keeping you close to him. You wrapped your arms around his back in return, fisting the soft shirt across his shoulder blades.

When he pulled away, he stared down at your still closed eyes. You were breathing deeply and slower than you had been (even if it wasn’t as slowly as he’d like.) You were clearly no longer panicking.

Your dazed eyes blinked open, meeting his. You stared up at him, lips parted and kiss swollen as you caught your breath.

“I’m not leaving you. At least not over empanadas.” He grinned.

Your eyes widened, your dazed look turning into shock followed quickly by annoyance. “You said you wouldn’t laugh.” You pouted.

“And I’m not,” he pointed out, although he couldn’t stop himself from smiling over how silly you were being. “First of all, don’t listen to Santiago. He would have settled down with Alicia if she’d let him, and she couldn’t make enchiladas. She couldn’t boil water without setting something on fire.”

You couldn’t help but snort at the reminder of Alicia, a woman Santiago dated a few years back. She was fine but all wrong for him. He was blinded by love. Well, love and her body.

“Secondly, I’m not going anywhere unless you’re coming with me.” He promised. “I love your cooking, and if you want to learn more dishes, then we can learn together. No more crying over burnt empanadas, okay?”

“Okay,” you chuckled, your skin heating bashfully as Frankie leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“How about I order us some burgers and I help you clean this up?” He suggested, looking over the mess of the kitchen again.

“I would kill for a burger.” You groaned, snuggling up to Frankie as you tucked your head against his shoulder.

Frankie glanced over at the brick of charcoal on the stove - now identified as enchiladas - and fought back a laugh. “Oh don’t worry, they’re dead.”

A gasp from you was his only warning before you swatted him in the chest. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing at your affronted look. You laughed with him, even as you grumbled about him under your breath as you turned to deal with the pot in the sink.

Frankie pressed a kiss to your temple, muttering “love you too,” on his way to deal with the pan on the stove.

General Taglist @generalfoolish @harriedandharassed

P*dro P*scal Taglist @ilikechocolatemilkh @spideysimpossiblegirl @eli-the-thinker @seasonschange-butpeopledont @slightlyobsessedwithissues​

Frankie Morales Taglist @sugarpunch-princess​ @slightlyobsessedwithissues​ @mrsxreeves​

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

🌙 🌓

A continuation of this

Werewolf Billy Russo x reader

Warnings: Angst

"What? Y/N isn't even my soulmate..."

Frank mutters something under his breath, but of course Billy catches it.

"Dumbass boy just got himself in so much trouble-"

"Frank, please, explain."

"You never let me tell you about the soulmate side of this thing, and that's your fault." Frank finally says to Billy.

"Haven't you noticed that your wolf's drawn to her? I've noticed, but you haven't?"

"Isn't that normal? That he would just like some people-?"

"Is it normal?" Frank counters, "has your wolf ever taken to anyone as much as her?"

He stops to think about it. Well, no, he's never been drawn to someone as much as he's been drawn to her. He's never had to urge to bite anyone else either- even women that knew what he was, he's never wanted to mark them-

He sucks in a breath, his body escalating into panic mode.

Suddenly his phone rings. He fishes it out of his pocket to see your picture smiling back at him.

Frank notices the name.

"That's her, picking up on your distress, but she doesn't know why, so she's calling."

Billy glares at Frank, fighting the anxiety building in his stomach and answers the call.

"Hey." Is all he says as he answers.

You're taken back by his tone.

"Billy? Is everything okay?"

He sucks in a breath, he feels it then, the concern, your concern.

He turns away from Frank, as if that'll do anything.

"Hey princess, I'm good, I just have Frank here listening to every word."

You giggle, and his anxiety eases.

"Sorry I made you look less macho. Just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Why's that? Did something happen?"

"Nuh uh, just, um, just felt like calling is all." He hears you take a breath, "sorry, it's stupid."

Worry.

"Glad you called." He admits out loud.

Flickers of hope, "Yeah?"

"Yeah baby, always glad to hear from you."

You laugh, he squeezes his eyes shut as butterflies make a home in his stomach.

"Okay, I'll see you tonight?"

" 'course, see you." He responds.

You say your goodbyes and he hangs up.

He keeps his back to Frank for a moment more before turning around.

"I can't tell her." He finally says.

"You have to, else she's gonna think she's going crazy."

Billy sighs harshly, feeling the urge to hit something. His anger builds but suddenly washes away under a peaceful vibe. You. He blinks with realization. It's you. Trying to soothe him, and you don't even know it.

"I don't think I want this." Billy says out loud.

Frank raises his eyebrows.

"You're lying to yourself." He says easily.

He shakes his head in denial.

"You don't know what bein' in my head is like, Frankie, and now she's got a front row seat to everything I'm feeling?" He spares a glace at his best friend who's listening intently. "This is gonna end badly."

Frank huffs in amusement.

"It's only gonna get worse, man. The more time you spend with her the deeper the bond's gonna get. Better to tell her now than to have her find out later when she can read your mind."

Billy whips around, "That'll happen?!"

Frank lets out a boisterous laugh.

"Your- your face!"

Billy waits with a stern expression until Frank stops laughing.

"Nah, Bill, that doesn't happen, but she'll start picking up on your emotions, you'll start understanding each other more... until eventually you won't be able to tell where she ends and you begin."

He raises his eyebrows in shock.

"And you're sure she's my soulmate?"

He moves to pour himself a glass of water.

"You tell me. On the next full moon, you'll go crazy if she's not around."

"Fuck."

"Actually, Maria is what keeps me from losing control during the full moon, it's why I stopped going to the cabin."

"Maybe I should leave. You say the more time we spend together, the worse it will get. If I leave, it won't get worse." The thought makes his chest hurt.

He feels the anger rolling off Frank at his words.

"You're okay with doing that to her?"

"I don't want her in my head!" He shouts. Frank puts a calming hand on Billy's shoulder.

"I never should have bitten her." Billy says morosely. Even if he did stay, you'd leave when you realised how fucked up he was. He didn't want anyone experiencing his murderous rage, his extreme jealousy that burned his throat, his unbelievable sadness when he thinks about his mother.

It would be too much for you, too much for anyone.

You'd leave anyway.

So maybe it was best if he left first.

[sanjisprincesswifey]

hello!! how are you doing hun? <33 could I please ask for prompt 4 ("what makes me so special?") with Robin please! he/they pronouns if that's alright! thank you very much and good luck with finals

note: hello my sweet! i'm doing pretty well and hope you are too! i kinda went a bit overboard with this request because robin does something to me

♡: gender-neutral reader. 800+ words. sfw content.

your eyes scan over the last line of the page, this was the third time you had attempted to read it and you still didn’t know what it had said.

your mind was so far from the book in your hand, all you could think about was the woman you loved and her conversation with the cook and nami.

it’s not your fault you heard your name drop from nami’s lips.

robin mumbled something too hushed for you to hear, followed by a sharp gasp from sanji. “that bastard! he could never protect you like i could my sweet robin-swan! i could love you ten times more than they could!” he shouts. his proclamation was followed by a loud thump, which you assumed was nami’s fist against his stupid blonde head.

you were never too fond of sanji. despite his general personality and perverted-ness, he was a bit too handsy with robin if you were being honest and once he noticed your not-so-secret relationship with robin, his disapproval over you amped up tenfold.

and you’d be lying if sanji’s behavior hadn’t made you a bit insecure. this time it was proven difficult for you to get past what sanji had told robin. it’s true you weren’t as strong or combative as sanji was, nor did you have the amorous prowess that he kept under his belt.

you knew sanji wasn’t a better fit for robin than you were, but the insecurity crept up on you, taking you in its grasp and draining you dry of any security you had previously felt.

and you loved her. so much. but you didn’t even have the guts to tell her that.

“hey y/n, you want to play hide and seek with me and usopp?”

the tiny reindeer tugs at your sleeve as you pull your attention away from the book you weren’t reading. chopper notices the distance and glazed look in your eye, but before he could ask about it, you reach out to pat his soft head.

“not now buddy, i—uh, i’m a bit busy right now,” you hum, watching sanji serve robin, who was now on the main lawn of the sunny, a cold beverage before returning to the kitchen with a lovesick expression. your stomach feels queasy like you could vomit when you haul yourself up and to the crow’s nest where you seek peace and quiet.

throwing yourself onto the couch, your heart aches at the thought of anyone loving her the way you do. tears sting your eyes as your bottom lip quivers between your teeth, the force is almost strong enough to draw blood.

the hatch of the crow’s nest unlocks and your body tenses at the sound, hoping whoever it is will go away.

“any particular reason you’re all alone up here?” your girlfriend's tone is bittersweet, she knows something is wrong. the couch shifts as she sits on the opposite end, placing a hand on your leg. you sniff when you look at her, reading the concerned expression that’s written across her face.

you feel ungrateful, almost, to have someone like her worried about you. that mere thought has your tears streaming down your face even more than before.

time feels like it’s freezing when she stares back at you, the way she looks at you makes you feel so special. but were you really? compared to someone like sanji or franky?

were they better fits for someone such as her?

you muster up the little courage you have as you meet her gaze, “what makes me so special?” you blurt out, which takes robin aback. “why’re you with me?” you clarify, staring down at your hands.

her two fingers slide underneath your chin, forcing you to look at her. “because you’re you,” she speaks in a hushed tone. she leans closer to you so she can cup your cheek, glancing between your eyes and your lips. there’s a moment of hesitance before she says anything again, “and i love you.”

the insecurity that has bubbled over in your stomach dissolves, calm tranquility taking over. your mouth parts slightly and her confident demeanor has dropped to be replaced with an uncharacteristically uncertain one. you’d never seen her face drop so quickly nor had it read so much vulnerability.

“y—you love me?” you question, your own hand grasping onto hers watching her head nod slowly.

out of all the things that you expected her to say, this was not one of them.

robin was quite adamant that falling in love wasn’t an easy task for her, but here she was, saying it like it was nothing.

you almost wanted to run downstairs and rub it in sanji’s face, but instead, you opt for the more reasonable response and wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her so that your lips hover over hers.

robin pants, eyes fixated on the rosy color your lips are stained with. “i love you,” you smile. robin’s eyes widen slightly and then she’s no longer able to resist, connecting your lips in a kiss that has imaginary fireworks shooting in your head. you can feel her giggle vibrate against your lips and you whine within her touch.

you swear you've died and flown to heaven and when robin pulls you into her lap, and so does she.

like, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! (✿◠‿◠)

[gucciwins]

Trouble Follows

Harry’s a firefighter, he believes in accidents not coincidences but that changes when he meets Y/N multiples times at different calls. 

Word count: 8128

A/N: Hello friends, hope you’re well. life has been eventful since the start of the year but when is it not. first story of 2021 and i’m excited to share it. i started this story a few months back (yes chicago fire was an inspiration). firefighter!harry is dear and near to my heart. i do hope you love it and let me know you thoughts. happy reading 

It's the start of a twenty-four-hour shift. 

A day that feels like it may never end until it does. 

 Harry's in the common room with the crew. He's got his black coffee, his first of many for the day, and the morning's paper that Lincoln dropped on the table. There isn't anything impressive; he grabs a pen he sees on the table and begins to do the crossword puzzle. 

10 letters

1. down - crater creator. 

Harry's already lost, and it is only the first one.

He's not good at them, not one bit. Sarah always ends up finishing the crosswords. 

The chatter is loud, and as he slides the newspaper down to Mitch, who will silently hand it over to Sarah. Harry likes the morning buzz; everyone catches up from not seeing each other for forty-eight hours. Although, many do see each other, seeing as they are roommates. Harry used to live with Mitch until he moved in with Sarah last fall after two years of dating. Mitch told him there might be a wedding in the future or, as Sarah likes to joke about all the time, an elopement.

"Morning, H.," Wilson says, patting his shoulder, making his way to the empty coffee awaiting him. Harry knows they are seconds away from an outburst. Wilson can be just a tad bit dramatic. 

The alarms begin to ring as he lifts up the empty pot. "Truck 51, Squad 3, 62, Battalion 25, Ambulance 62 House fire at 5082 North Bell Ave." 

"Looks like we were saved by the bell." Lincoln laughs as they all rush out to get dressed and on the truck as quick as they can. 

Harry and Mitch are out in seconds, never one to lollygag. The rest are quick to follow, slipping on their pants, and the coat quickly follows. Harry looks around, making sure everyone is accounted for before jumping into his spot in the passenger seat, Wilson at the wheel pulling out of the station with the siren blaring.

He watches the city go by as they rush to their destination. There is a lot heard of trees they pass by, and he knows they are passing the city park that is always filled with laughter and Harry knows they will be arriving soon, and as always, he prepares for the worst but hopes for the best. 

They arrive in under ten minutes. It's a nice residential area, one that doesn't make frequent calls. The fire seems under control, not growing, but there is a lot of smoke. "Frankie, Lincoln, make sure these people stay back." 

"You got it, Lieutenant," Lincoln responds quickly, getting to work, Frankie following right behind him.

Harry spots an old woman being held up by a young female his age. The old woman looks distraught by the fire, and Harry knows this must be the owner. 

"Ma'am, I'm Lieutenant Styles. Can you tell me what happened?" He approaches, voice firm, ready to take in the needed information. 

"She inhaled a lot of smoke. Can your paramedic check her out?" Harry's eyes shift to the woman. She's beautiful; she's in grey sweats and an oversized sweater that has what he assumes is Pascal from Tangled coming out of the pocket. Harry shakes his thoughts away, focusing back on her catching her last words. "Still in shock."  

"Sarah," Harry calls out once, and she is quick to rush over. They set the old woman on the stretcher and quickly put an oxygen mask over her. 

"Miss, may you tell me what you know. That way, we figure out the best way to get this fire out." 

She's quick to nod. "Of course, I was on my way over to check on Mrs. Waters like I do every morning, but this time was different. Earl, her next-door neighbor, was outside calling 9-1-1. He told me he didn't see her run out. I rushed in to see her standing on the top steps of her staircase, staring into the burning room. She was coughing a lot, and I rushed her out. She thinks she knocked the candle down in her knitting room when she went down for her tea." She says all that in one breath. "The room is the first door on the left up the stairs. It's the back of the house."

Harry nods at her before turning away. "Mitch, you and Wilson take the hose through the side gate. Spray the room; it's a candle fire. Once it's out, let me know, so we can go in for a sweep through."

"Yes, Lieutenant."

Harry sees Mrs. Waters has begun to calm down and has the color back in her face. He knows they are going to take her down to Med to do a run-through. Harry turns around to speak with the young woman, but he doesn't see her anymore. 

He's about to ask Sarah when he sees Chief Rivera run into a sprint and catches her in his arms. He didn't notice she began to walk away from him and over to the other pedestrians to assure them everything was alright. Harry yells for Esme, worried for the woman.

"I'm good." She barely makes out. "Think the adrenaline has run its course. That's all. I didn't even inhale that much smoke." 

Chief Rivera ignores her protests and sets her on the side of the ambulance. "Please check her out." He directs his orders to Esme. 

"Thanks for saving me, Mr. Chief. That would have led to a nasty concussion." Pascal sweater answers. 

Chief gives her a quick nod before walking away.

"Miss, what's your name," Esme asks her. Putting an oxygen mask over her face and resting it on her nose and mouth. She takes a deep breath before answering. 

"Y/N." 

Beautiful name. It suits her. 

"Do your lungs hurt or your chest?" 

"No, do you think I can ride with Mrs. Waters?" Y/N interrupts Esme with an apologetic smile. "It's just that her granddaughter is her last living relative and lives an hour away. Her husband passed away four months ago. I'm all she's got."

"We've got room for you," Sarah responds, always having a soft spot even though you wouldn't know from her tough exterior. 

Harry walks away, not hearing the rest of the conversation but feeling good that both are okay. He thinks she's crazy for rushing into a burning building with nothing on her to protect her, but he does this for a living, so who is he to judge? 

Mitch gives him the all-clear. 

Harry heads into the building with Frankie and Lincoln, no more thoughts of the beautiful girl he met. 

He's got a job to do, and he has to do it right. They start in the living room before entering the kitchen, seeing dirty dishes in the sink and a plate of what looks like fresh banana bread. He's going to be left with that craving. Harry leads the way up, careful with the stairs just in case of collapse, seeing how black the once blue carpet has turned. There was a lot of damage, and it pains him to see such a well-loved house be affected this way. 

"All clear!" He shouts, making sure Lincoln and Frankie head down before him. 

Once back outside, Harry slips off his helmet. He nods over to Chief Rivera, who gives him a curt nod in return. He turns around to address the crew, "Pack it up." Everyone scatters to gather and put away their tools as quickly as they can. 

All in a day's work, time to head back and hope each call is as successful as this one.

Harry might not tell anyone, but the woman Y/N stays on his mind all day. 

Sitting in his office, getting paperwork done is not something he enjoys. He is good at it, though. 

He's always thorough, a perfectionist. 

It's essential because the Battalion Chief isn't kind at all, and even the smallest mistake on a report can send him on a full-on rage rampage. Thankfully, it's been a few months, and he is on his fourth wife stuck in the honeymoon phase, at least for the time being, giving them all some much-needed peace. 

Harry has an open-door policy; he closes it; he feels he loses that connection to his friends. They may be coworkers, but after everything they have been through, he sees them as family, and one does not close the door on family. 

It is also because he gets to hear all that's going on. Sarah and Mitch were going to visit his family in the upcoming month, and Sarah seemed far more excited than Mitch. Wilson had a new date lined up for the weekend to make up for the next few days he has to spend at work. Esme was talking Frankie's ear off about how she was knitting a new blanket for her niece and how each patch would be a different color with a different meaning.  

He likes how well they all get on. Squad might keep their distance, but everyone does get along. It's not common in firehouses as he's heard from others. The hazing gets taken too far and ever a few male chauvinists. Don't worry, that isn't the one thing the Battalion Chief does not accept; he respects and loves women just doesn't like others' happiness. 

Harry's proud of how far he has come, but most of the family he has become a part of. He knows how lucky he is. It also means he will never take it for granted.

 They are his home away from home. Seeing as his family is an ocean away. 

"Harry." 

He looks up, seeing Mitch staring at him. "How can I help you, Mitchell?"

Mitch rolls his eyes, causing Harry to smirk. "Was wondering what you were doing after shift today?" 

"Asking me on a date? Think Sarah might get jealous." Harry smirks at his best friend.  

"It was her idea." 

Harry smirks is replaced with a sincere smile. "Told you she has a soft spot for me." 

"Dinner at my place? Have a few drinks, watch one of your favorite romantic comedies." Mitch suggests not at all like him to do so. 

Harry was about to say yes when the alarm started ringing. "Truck 51, Squad 3, Battalion 25, Ambulance 62." A brief pause, "School fire 1260 West Adams."

"That's the small elementary school up the street," Harry tells him, shooting up from his chair and out the door to get in the protective gear.

Harry knows this fire won't be easy, but he's with the best of the best and knows it'll be alright. He knows they are approaching, and he always likes to go over how he wants things to be handled before getting out, but more significant fires need more focus. He also knows they all fall under the Chief's orders today and not his. 

"Mitch and Wilson go in together. You know how it goes. Get everyone to head out, and our priority is getting the fire out" Harry looks back, getting a silent nod. "Candidate, how are you feeling?" 

"Ready, Lieutenant." She answers confidently. 

Harry gives her a sharp look, knowing he's got nothing to worry about her. Frankie is one of the best firefighters truck 51 has ever had. "Good, you'll be going in with Lincoln." 

"What about you, Lieutenant?" Lincoln can't help but ask.

"I'm sure the Chief is going in. I'm going to stick with him." Harry knows his Chief well, and nothing will stop him from helping out. 

Wilson parks right out front, and Harry can't see any smoke coming out. At least, not yet. 

Harry is met with who he assumes is the principal; he didn't have time for an introduction. The woman explained there was a science lab gone wrong and that the sprinklers did not go off. They rushed everyone out quickly, following the fire drill procedures.

These kids are panicked but are being pointed towards an exit, and not until after the fire is controlled can they make sure everyone is counted for. Harry knows they have to work swiftly and make sure no one gets left inside. 

A man with glasses and a smoked black salmon shirt approached them, and Harry assumed by the looks of it he was the teacher that was part of the fire. "The bunsen burner caught fire. I don't know why. We've done this experiment for years without accidents." 

He eyes a few students wet and can assume the sprinklers went off much later than they would have liked. It means the fire has lessened, and it was safer to go in. 

"We'll take care of it." He assures them. 

"Get two hose lines in there." Chief Rivera directs right away. "Truck, Squad search, and evacuate. Let's go." 

Everyone moves and begins to make their way into the burning building. It's a small two-story building; he sees frightened first graders to fifth graders watching him as he makes his way inside. 

"Keep moving," Chief Rivera says to teachers ushering students out. 

Harry knows Sarah and Esme have many people to look after and hope that more help can get there sooner rather than later. 

As he makes his way inside, he feels the alarm ringing in his ears as he follows close behind Chief. It's something he's used to but doesn't mean he likes it.

"Fire department, call out," Harry shouts. He scans each room, not seeing anything and continuing on.  

They make way to where the fire is, and it's growing. 

Harry can see a bunsen burner tipped on its side. He takes a step towards the classroom and see's another tipped over but with a tear in it. It seems that one ripped and caught a spark setting the fire off. 

"Chief, we need to get the gas off, or it'll only continue to grow." Harry looks over at Jorge, both waiting for the order to go in. 

Chief speaks into his radio, asking where the gas shut off is located. Harry hears Florence recite back what a male voice told him to the Chief.

"Gas tank is in the backroom; it should shut it off. Be careful." His voice gruff. 

"You got it." 

Jorge leads, and Harry follows behind right on his heel. It only grows hotter as they make their way inside. He hugs the right side of the room, making sure to avoid the growing fire. 

Jorge reaches to shut it when Harry notices a second one. "Jorge, there's two. We need to shut them at the same time." Harry hurries over. "Ready, turn!" 

It clicks shut, and they let out a deep breath. Jorge pats Harry on the shoulder in acknowledgment. 

"Let's head out. They need to hose this down." 

Harry nods and follows him out, moving much faster this time. As quick as he was in the building, he now stands outside of it. He slips his helmet off, wanting to lose some pressure. 

"Hey Chief, the fire's out." Lincoln comes out to inform. 

Chief responds with a grunt, turning to the principal, holding a binder with lots of overflowing papers. 

"What's the count?" Everyone holds their breath, waiting for the news. Squad prepared to go in if necessary.

"Everyone Is accounted for, Chief." She responds, a shaky smile on her face. 

"Good." 

Harry lets out the breath he was holding. There was no real injury today, and he is thankful for being burnt in a fire is not easy, and he knows that from experience. 

His crew had begun to clean up already, and he was about to join when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turns to see a familiar woman but waits for her to speak; after all, she approached him. 

"Hello, Lieutenant." She greets with a small smile. "There was no injury right. I checked over my students but want to know everyone else is safe." 

"Injuries there were none unless you count Lincoln tripping into the truck on the way here." Harry jokes, not sure at all what made him break his seriousness. 

She laughs. It's music to his ears.

He would enjoy being able to hear it again.

"Our team got everyone oxygen that needed it. The students and teachers are looking fine, and I assume parents have been informed of the incident." 

"Called and picked up as soon as you clear out." 

Harry stares at her for another second; she's wearing a lilac knitted sweater with bell-bottom jeans. He chuckles looks like he isn't the only one still wearing them out and about. 

"You're from the North Bell fire," Harry tells her. He acts like her name slipped his mind, but that is the farthest thing from the truth. Her face and her name have not left his mind since that day. It's as if it has been imprinted. 

"Yeah, Mrs. Waters. Good memory." She nods at him, obviously impressed. "She's good, staying with her granddaughter for the time being." 

"That's nice to hear." Harry knows their conversation is coming to an end. 

 "Well, thank you for lessening my concern. Have a good day, Lieutenant Styles." She flashes him a broad smile, her eyes shining bright, keeping him entranced even after she walks away from him.

Harry watches her walk away, how she kneels down to talk to a young girl who was crying. Wipes her tears away with a handkerchief, she pulled out of her pocket. Little girl eventually laughs; it rings loud throughout the mess that way today; a child's laugh uplifting in a moment of darkness. It truly is the small things in life that should be appreciated. 

 His thoughts drift back to Y/N; what are the odds he runs into her just one week later. 

She's pretty; he's not going to lie. He'd ask her on a date if he were to meet her at a bar, but no, never on the job. 

If it's happened twice, maybe he's lucky enough for a third. 

Although he hopes under better circumstances. 

Harry had gone unbothered for over two hours, which is too long in the firehouse. He got the majority of his work done and decided to leave his office to find out what everyone was up to. 

He was not surprised to see them in the common room, but he was shocked to see them all munching on cookies and not just any kind. They were snickerdoodle cookies, and they smelled divine like his mother had just taken them out of the oven with his watchful gaze eyeing every single one. 

"Those smell amazing." Harry was quick to say eagerly, wanting someone to hand him one or five. 

"Home-baked," Sarah calls out through a mouth full of cookies she was chewing.

Harry laughs because he knew that already. He reaches into the box in front of Mitch but is met with a slap on his wrist, and Harry quickly pulls back. 

"Oi, that's not very kind of you, Mitchie." 

Harry crosses his arms over his chest, but Frankie walks by a smaller box in hand, 'Lieutenant' written on top in elegant writing, and shoves it into his chest. He grabs it quickly, not wanting it to fall. 

"Who brought them?" Harry asks because whoever baked something so heavily deserves all the praise, and he is more than ready to give it. 

He opens his box and bites into the still-warm cookie. He holds back a moan, not up for the others teasing, but it truly is the best cookie he has ever eaten. 

"It was the woman from the school fire, the one that approached you in the end," Sarah tells him, her hand reaches for a new cookie. 

Harry frowns; she was here and missed her. No one thought to call him to come out. 

If he is honest, he hasn't been able to get her off his mind. Two short interactions, and it is as if she has put him under a spell. He lets out a low chuckle at the thought.

He always tells others he has no time for a relationship, but the truth is he hopes for love. He just doesn't want it to be one night of passion. He wants endless nights, where it ends cuddling with the same person with constant whispers of I love you. 

He's a hopeless romantic. 

Harry would happily marry this woman. Although trouble does seem to follow her. 

It might not be something he needs in life, especially in his line of work.

Golden's. 

A safe haven. 

A place that feels like home, where firefighters, paramedics, and doctors come for a drink and a good time. The perfect place to come drink away your sorrows with a shoulder to cry on in every corner—the ideal place to celebrate significant accomplishments with the friends that have slowly become your family.

 Esme, a paramedic, and Jorge, a firefighter work at Firehouse 19 with Harry; they are the ones who opened up Golden's three years ago. Esme wanted a place to make creative drinks, and Jorge, well, he loved crunching numbers in his spare time, leading to this bar's birth. 

Hanging on the walls are pictures of all their family and friends. Harry is proud to be displayed on the wall multiple times, and he loves each photo taken. His favorite being one that is hung right under what he calls his table. It's a photo of all of Firehouse 19 after he was made Lieutenant. Everyone in their uniforms dressed to the nines. Chief Rivera had the biggest smile on his face, as did Harry. Everyone around him had cheered for him, and they then all headed to Golden's for a celebration where his mother and sister were among his firehouse family. That picture always brings a smile to his face. 

Harry sits there at his table with Mitch, his best friend, who he met entering the academy from the moment Harry said hello, and Mitch grunted in return he hasn't been able to shake Harry off, but they wouldn't have it any other way. 

Harry has been told he has a lively personality, always conversing with those around him; Mitch was mellow, a wallflower. Mitch came to life around Sarah; Harry joked how he had heart eyes around her. Sarah is a force to be reckoned with. The kindest smile but the highest walls, she dropped them down without a second thought for Mitch, seeing as he was the one to make conversation with her when she was transferred from Station 25. Harry admires her strength and quick thinking. She had a dream of being a doctor but is happy as a paramedic for the time being. 

The fourth seat at their table always remains empty, open to anyone wanting to sit down for a conversation, but never permanent. Harry knows as well as Mitch that it's being saved. Saved for that certain someone to walk into his life.

He's left wondering if he's finally met her. 

Harry spots Esme free and gets up from his table to sit at the bar asking for two beers knowing Mitch will join him. He doesn't try to start a conversation, thoroughly enjoying the buzz of conversation around him and the comfort of Mitch next to him.  

It's been three days since the high school fire and two days since the cookies, and all he can think about is Y/N. If he had to guess she was a teacher, he forgot to ask too focused on the fire yet too stunned to ask her why she was there. She had been quick to have everyone checked for and was most relieved when he confirmed everyone was counted for. 

Harry was sure he'd never see her again, that she'd cross his path, and that was it. No, instead, he sees her less than a week later, but he made no move to ask her out even though he knows she's interested. At least it seems like she was. She didn't have to approach him that second time or send him his own box of cookies. If he were to meet her now, he wouldn't think twice about asking her out but meeting her out while on the job, he wouldn't let her be a distraction. 

"What's got you thinking so hard?" Mitch says, interrupting his internal debate. 

Harry takes a drink of his beer. "Nothing." He sighs. "At least I think it's nothing." 

"That woman from the high school fire." Mitch states. 

Harry chuckles; nothing gets past him. "Yeah, don't know why. She seems to invade my thoughts, and all I know is her name and that accidents happen around her." 

"Maybe she's a firebug," Mitch suggests. 

"She's not an arsonist." Harry nudges Mitch. "Don't joke about that. Her aura's too bright. You saw how she was with the students and teachers." 

Mitch laughs. "Aura, what are you talking about?" 

"Oii, leave me alone. I told you I got into meditating and have been doing lots of reading. Gem sent me this book about seeing and feeling it. Your aura gets brighter around Sarah." 

Mitch's cheeks go red about to respond when his phone rings. "Speaking of." Harry sips his beer as Mitch takes his phone out.

"I'm taking this outside; she's checking in for the night. Letting me know she's alright." Mitch says, finishing off his beer. Sarah was out visiting family for the weekend, and Mitch couldn't join, so Harry was more than happy to keep him company.

Harry raises his hands defensively. "I didn't say anything." 

His eyes follow Mitch outside, watching him hold the door open, phone to his ear when he sees her walk in. She's dressed in skin-tight jeans, hugging her hips nicely. A white silk top and completing the look is a black leather jacket. Harry shits in his seat, she looks fantastic, but he might need a shot or two to get the courage to go over to her. 

Harry downs the two tequila shots Jorge placed in front of him, turning to look back at her when he sees two guys with her. It seems they know her well, standing so close to her. One has a hand on her back, and Harry's confidence deflates. 

She's got a boyfriend, of course, she does. 

The men are good looking Harry hates to admit, he knows he's attractive, but those two might give him a run for his money. They tower over her, like guards protecting a queen. She walks forward, both men trailing behind. She does a quick scan of the room as she approaches the bar, and smirk forms on her face as her eyes meet him for a brief second. 

His view is quickly blocked when a female embraces her in a hug. She pulls back, and Harry is surprised to see that the friend is Frankie. 

Frankie is the candidate he welcomed onto his truck six months ago. Frankie is remarkable, goes after what she wants, and gets along well with everyone. Chief Rivera was impressed from the start, and that's hard to do. 

Harry sits there watching, wondering which one could be her boyfriend. The blonde has a good chance he has his arm thrown over her shoulder casually, but she doesn't lean into him. That makes him smile. Brings back the small confidence he has left. The group laughs at something the redhead said, and she reaches up to kiss the redhead's cheek so it could be him. Harry wants them to come this way and have Frankie introduce them, but they stay far enough where he can't hear their conversation, only her sweet laugh. He looks away but turns once more when he sees movement in the corner of his eye. It's Frankie wrapping her arms around redhead's neck and kissing him on the lips. The blonde has his eyes on someone across the bar, and just like that, Harry can breathe again. Y/N lifts her gaze and catches him staring; she sends him a sly wink before whispering something in Frankie's ear. 

No boyfriend. That's good; it means Harry might have a shot after all. 

He hears Frankie pass behind him, meaning she also passed by. He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. 

He startles when he hears a voice next to him order an old-fashioned. He knows it's her.

"Hey there, Lieutenant" She's leaning against the bar smiling at him. "Frankie was telling me you've never had a woman as a candidate." She says, taking a step forward into his space. Frankie comes behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "She acts all tough, but between you and me, it's all an act." She raises her drink to take a sip. "Just like you." 

"Sorry about her Harry, we don't take her out enough to know how to act around others." Frankie jokes as she walks off with her three beers. 

"Ouch." Y/N laughs as she watches Frankie walk away from them. 

"You're very forward, firebug." Harry comments 

She shrugs. "So I've been told." Y/N pauses acknowledging the nickname. "Did you call me an arsonist?" 

Harry's eyes go wide. How does she know the term? "No, of course not. I know you didn't start those fires, but two run-ins around a fire the nickname is kind of perfect." 

It really is. Harry hopes she agrees. 

"Alright, Styles, I'll accept the term of endearment. As long as I'm the only one." 

"Wouldn't want anyone else," Harry answers truthfully.

She looks him up and down clearly, not hiding she's checking him out. Harry feels confident in his outfit for the evening. He's wearing a vintage 'Enjoy Health, Eat Your Honey' shirt tucked into black flared corduroy jeans. Her gaze stays on his forearms, admiring the tattoos. Her gaze lingers on the mermaid as if she wants to raise her finger and trace around it. 

"So, you've been hiding all that under roughly 45 pounds of gear give or take the weight of items." She tuts, shaking her head. "What a shame." 

"Not like I can do my job without the gear, makes running into a burning building easier." 

"I suppose." Y/N smirks, a glimmer in her eye. "How fast do you have to put on the gear?"  

He narrows his eyes at her, not knowing where she's going with this. "Under two minutes. Gets faster as time goes by." He answers cautiously. 

"Pretty sure, I could undress you in less than that. Leave you in your boxers, or do you prefer briefs." She takes a sip of her whiskey. "Maybe you don't like using it, heard they could be constricting." 

Harry can't help the blush that takes over his cheeks; he's never met someone so forward. He wants to get to know her, and by the looks of it, she feels the same way. 

They stare at each other for a few seconds taking in the other's face. Harry notices the smallest detail, like the small scar close to her eyebrow. He catches the peaking of a tattoo from under her jacket. He's really intrigued now. 

"It's Harry." He says, bringing his hand out to shake, knowing he's never appropriately introduced himself like she has. 

She grabs it and leans in close. "Personally, I like Lieutenant." He shifts slowly, but then she gestures down without breaking eye contact. "Think you do as well."

She finishes her drink and sets it back down. She places a twenty on the counter to cover the cost of her drink and his. "I'll see you around, Lieutenant Harry." 

She's out of sight in the next few seconds. 

He wants her, more than for just a night. Harry wants to be the reason she laughs, the reason she smiles but most importantly, the one she gets to love. He has it bad. He's never met someone so forward and direct with their flirting; he really loved the attention. 

 Now that he knows Frankie has a connection to her, Harry knows he'll see her soon. Who knows when that is. He'll be counting the seconds until then.

Mitch walks in and sits next to Harry, pocketing his phone. "Miss anything interesting?" 

Harry throws his head back and groans. "You have no idea."

Friday's are never the same. Harry feels like he can never prepare for these days. They had just gotten back from a call; it was a kitchen stove fire gone wrong. It was an in and out; a fire extinguisher was really all they needed. The family was very thankful. He was just glad they were smart enough to turn the stove off. 

Harry had just grabbed a seat when the alarm began to ring. He knows everyone is holding back a groan, but it's their job. Sometimes there are either too many breaks or not enough. 

"Pin in accident, Columbus Drive Bridge." 

Harry is quick to dress, finishing first. He taps the side of the truck, "Let's go, let's go!" Everyone picks up the speed, and they are out in seconds. Wilson is not light on the honking, knowing an accident on the bridge is never good. 

"Alright, candidate, remember to walk with a purpose, don't run." Harry begins. 

Frankie nods. "Access the details before you act." She finishes off for him.

"Good." 

The police are on the scene keeping back the curious group of people that have gathered. Harry shakes his head. All people love having a front-row view of accidents. 

The accident looks bad, two cars: one car seems abandoned, a door left wide open. It seems to him that was who caused the accident, good things the police can run their plates. In the second car, the passenger seat door is jammed, there is glass everywhere. There is one person in the driver's seat, a blanket over them.

Harry approaches the vehicle seeing Wilson already assessing the passenger and how best to take them out. 

"Female, mid 20's," Wilson calls out. 

Harry sees her door is jammed in. "We need to pry open her door before getting her out. The hit was all on the passenger side, but please be careful we don't know her injuries." 

Lincoln gets to work, Harry stands to the side, waiting to cut the driver's belt and out of the car.

"She had a blanket over her. The glass missed her face, but one got her abdomen. She's a funny one, taking the pain like a champ. She said she's a nurse so knows it didn't hit an organ." Sarah tells him, as she spoke to her from the back window wanting to best prepare for when they get her on the stretcher. 

"Ma'am, how you doing? We are doing our best to get you out." Harry tells her, seeing the door being removed, quickly moving in to remove her seatbelt, which saved her life. 

"Thought we were on a first-name basis, Lieutenant." She speaks quietly, voice trembly. 

He steps back in shock, seeing her remove the blanket from her face. Her face clean of injury, Stevie Nicks' shirt red and ripped. She's hurt and laughing, but he feels like his heart wants to jump out of his throat.

It's Y/N. 

There's blood, and she's injured, but she's okay.

She's fine. 

She's alive.

He never wants to see her like this again. 

"Took years to find this exact shirt. Got it for a steal at $10." She groans jokingly. "Do you have a remedy to wash out blood?"

"In fact, I do; how about I help you with it once you get these stitches?" Harry tells her, hoping to keep the conversation going, keeps her calm as it is doing for him. 

"Asking me on a date on the job. Not very professional." She teases him.

"How do I know you didn't cause this accident just to see me?" He banters back. 

He has her in his arms, taking her out slowly. She has very few injuries; he's carrying her to the stretcher when he hears her cries. 

"It wasn't my fault you have to know." She cries out. "It was green, it really was, I promise. There are traffic cameras here, so check. I waited a few seconds then went and next thing I know I have the blanket over me. I've got quick reflects." She smiles slightly at the thought. "A nice lady told me help was on the way." Harry wipes her tears away. "I was on my way to the grocery store. Annie, my neighbor, wanted brownies, and I told her I would run to the store to get the items. She's going to be so upset." 

"Not your fault, I believe you. Everyone here does." His heart is breaking. She doesn't deserve to feel this, especially when the other driver got away scratch-free, it seems. 

"I'm the safest driver out there. I've never gotten a ticket, not even a parking one. When I took my driving test, I passed with zero errors. They said it hasn't happened in years." She groans as they load her into the ambulance. 

"I believe you. Your insurance must love you." He comments, getting a small laugh out of her. 

"Tell Frankie to send me flowers. I don't like coming home to no flowers." 

Esme slams the door shut, and off they go. 

He knows Frankie saw and heard; he knows Chief is with her. As good as one is doing their job, once family is involved, it's quick to lose one's focus. Harry knows he has to check on her once they are back at the station. He's going to encourage her to see her friend, not having to worry about the end of the shift because when it comes to family, that is their priority. 

Harry knows Mitch is watching him like a hawk, waiting for him to give him any kind of sign he's not okay, but he knows better. He's not allowed to break down in front of his crew. Not something he lets himself do. 

Instead, he does what he knows best. He gives orders.  

"Pack up back to the station."

Just like that, they begin to load up the truck, everything in their rightful place, but all he can think about is Y/N and if she truly is going to be okay. 

Harry is pacing outside her door. 

Yes, he got her address. He had to know how she was doing. Frankie was kind enough to give it to him, not without a few warnings. As in if he did anything to upset her, she knew how to handle a halligan. Harry dares not to cross her. He, after all, has only honorable intentions for Y/N.

He takes a deep breath before raising his hand and knocking three times. He quickly takes a step back, not wanting to be too close when she opens the door if she opens the door. 

It swings open, and there she stands in an oversized t-shirt and grey joggers. "I have been wondering when you would show." She grins at him. 

Harry's eyes widened. "You knew I was coming?"

She nods. "Of course, Frankie had to make sure it was okay to give my address to a man I've only had one proper conversation with." 

"It was two, really." Harry jokes. 

"Two then." She smiles down at her feet, starting to feel bashful under his watchful gaze. That is when her eyes catch sight of the gift in his hands. 

"You brought me flowers." She exclaims, reaching for the pink peonies, and he quickly extends his hand for her to take them.

"Wasn't sure your favorite. These reminded me of you and how beautiful you are." He shares, feeling his cheeks heat up, running a hand on the back of his neck, wanting her to say something and save himself from embarrassment. 

"Thank you." She sniffs them. "I've always loved peonies, don't think I've ever been gifted them before." She moves to the side and gestures him to come in.

"Would you like something to drink? I would have offered you food, but I didn't cook tonight; Frankie dropped off Chinese for one." She gives him a small smile to make up for it.

"It's no problem; after the day you had, my well being is not of your concern," Harry tells her, happy to accept the water she handed him.

"See, you're wrong, Styles." Harry frowns, meeting her eyes as she continues on. "You have a dangerous job, so I feel I do have a right to worry about you." 

"Fair enough." 

Harry sips his water, and she does the same. He assumes she's trying to collect her thoughts. That is what he's trying to do. 

He loses his train of thought as he begins to take in the yellow-painted cabinets; the hue holds a softness that allows them to stretch from floor to ceiling without feeling overwhelming. Brown granite countertops and hardwood floors temper the yellow; the bronze hardware marries the two colors. He's never felt so calm and safe in a kitchen. 

Back to his thinking, a good reason to tell her why he came to visit her because indeed she'll have to ask.  

It could be his crush on her, a growing infatuation. At this point, it might be like already. 

One goal before he leaves her house is well-- to have asked her on a date. 

Harry's train of thought is broken as she begins to speak.

"I want to apologize for breaking down in your arms. That wasn't right of me." 

Harry scoots closer, placing a ringed hand on top of hers, resting on the counter; this causes her to look up at him. "Hey firebug, no need to apologize. It was a tough situation. The crew said you handled it really well." He smiles and gives her hand a squeeze. "I'm happy you're okay." 

She nods and lets his words hang in the air for a minute. "I made brownies, and Annie helped me. She did the heavy lifting today. Do you want some?"

Harry knows she changed topics because she felt overwhelmed, and he was happy to follow her lead. "I'd love to try these brownies. If they were as good as your cookies, then I might just eat them all." 

A huge grin takes over her face at his confession; he accomplished exactly what he was looking for. 

"You loved the cookies?" She asks. 

"Loved honestly might have shed a tear when I ate the last one. Your cookies are what I assume they give to eat in heaven." He jokes but very much meaning each word.

"Thank you, I'll be sure to take more down to the station soon." Y/N blushes looking away from Harry's piercing gaze. 

"You know, I didn't even ask you how you're doing." Harry laughs, forgetting the reason he came over.

She laughs with him. "I did as well; if you'd ask me, it feels like a regular date night." 

Y/N doesn't blush at her words, but Harry sure does. "Date night, huh." She nods. "I'd be up for more nights like this." 

"Good to know." 

They stare at each other for a few seconds taking in each other's smile and how easy it is together. 

"Back to your original question, I'm doing good. Only needed five stitches and should heal up nicely." She puts her hand over her injury as if remembering the pain. 

"Well, I'm glad you're well. I'm a phone call away if you ever need anything." 

She all but glows at his words. "I'll keep that in mind." 

After a while, Harry helps her move over to the couch, wanting her to be comfortable. He fixes her pillows a few times, wanting her to not feel any kind of pain. Y/N just basks in the attention; it's not everyday she has a firefighter fawning over her. 

Time with Y/N seems to fly by because the next time his eyes catch sight of the time, it's nearing nine pm. He can tell she's knackered, but he and neither she sees an end in their conversation. It just flows so easy and who are they to try to stop it. 

Harry is learning about why she moved to the city and how she has an interview next week for the pediatrics department at Med. Also, she was at the school because she volunteers weekly; Miss Lucy is a teacher Y/N went to uni with and likes doing fun activities with the nine-year-old. 

Harry truly doesn't understand how she has so much to give to others, but he's glad to be receiving some of it as well. He hopes to give her back half of what she gives to others. 

"I've always seemed to find myself in trouble. Never the cause of it, but it's always around. I always thought it was me, and it seems to be true." Y/N shares with him. She has struggled with growing up; she may have many friends, but she doesn't stay in a place long enough to make herself feel at home, but so far, it has been different. 

Harry sees how much her words hurt to say. He leans over and grabs her hand. He squeezes it tightly before intertwining their fingers together. He really loves holding her hand, and he hopes she continues to allow him to do so. 

"Where angels go, trouble follows." Harry breathes out, never breaking eye contact with her. It takes every fiber in his body not to reach over and plant his lips on hers. He so badly wants her to believe his words because he knows he does. 

She truly is an angel from above, and he is lucky enough to be welcomed into her life. 

Y/N feels her cheeks heat up but never breaks eye contact with Harry. 

They fall silent, basking in what seems to be their final moments together for the night. 

"I should really get going, poppet. Got to let you get your rest." She nods and lets him help her up so she can walk him to the door. 

"Do you believe in faith?" She asks as they stand outside the door. 

He shrugs. "I never believed in all of that stuff, but in a matter of a few weeks, I've run into you four times, and I wouldn't leave that up to luck. I thank whatever brought us together and that they'll keep us together."

"I like that a lot."

He kisses her cheek softly. "As soon as those stitches are out, will you let me take you out on a date?" 

"I'd prefer something sooner, but I can wait." She teases.

Harry nods; he feels like he does a lot of blushing around her. He really enjoys how she makes him feel. 

"I'll check in tomorrow." He promises. 

"Just so you know, if I need anything, I won't be calling for firehouse 51." He stops. "I'll be calling this guy that has a thing for me that runs into burning buildings for a living."

"Any time of the day, I promise I'll answer the call, poppet." 

He had just put his seatbelt on when his phone began to ring. Harry picks it up, never breaking eye contact with her. 

"Lieutenant, I need some help. See, I was in an accident today, and I know it might seem a little strange, maybe a bit forward." She bits her lip, not yet breaking the intense eye contact. "I could really use a cuddle to feel better. Do you know anyone that can help out with that?" 

Harry shakes his head at her but nonetheless shoots her a dimpled smile. He jumps out of his car and strolls up to her—phone in hand, beautiful smile on her face.

"I would be honored." He leans in and connects his lips to her cheek; he lets it linger for a few seconds before pulling away. "Now, let's get you in bed. I heard from a little birdie you don't kiss before a first date, so the sooner you heal, the better." 

Y/N lets out a small groan at Frankie. "Maybe I can make an exception." 

Harry doesn't hide the surprise on his face at her words. "You certainly will make life more interesting." 

She giggles as she leads him to her room, Harry following closely behind.

Harry knows they were meant to walk into each other's life. The feelings he is starting to feel for her something he has never felt before. 

Call him cliche, but a never-ending spark has been ignited. 

thank you so much for reading! i love you

come chat trouble follows with me

taglist: @bigspoonstyles​ @taintedwonder​ @sunflowersupremacy​