#I wasn’t trying to catfish anyone

[daftconfusedandscared]

I started pretending to be a cis girl online for gender validation, thinking I wouldn’t become that good friends with people with a fake personality and life.

Anyone who ever said to “be yourself” was a frickin liar I have more friends than ever and accidentally broke three hearts.

[despressoslatte]

not the zoey you wanted (four)

pairing: zach maclaren x female reader!

summary: you waited all weekend for your boyfriend, Zach, to call or text, anything, to explain why he had just went and ghosted you when you were supposed to go with him on a family ski trip to meet his parents, his sister Avery, and his cousin, Miles.

content warnings: angst; victims of catfishing; miscommunication trope

a/n: a big big BIG thank you to everyone who has been enjoying this fic! I love seeing everyone’s comments and inbox messages dissecting the story and making predictions! I wrote for OBX back in 2020 when the show first came out under a different blog (in case anyone here remembers a blog called jjmaybankx, HI! Though that’s just a generic username, it might be hard to remember that specific iteration ahaha), but i had just created this blog the same day i put out this fic… and i am in awe of how well received and how much you guys are actually invested in this little world i have conjured up whilst dreaming of bf!drew. I am very honored <3

Masterlist | < part three | add yourself to the taglist

ᯓ⟢

How you were supposed to just get up and go to your afternoon classes after what had just happened was beyond you, but you had an important peer workshop in one of your writing courses and then straight to the tutoring center for you. 

Day one was hard, as you navigated the complexities of whatever the hell had just happened. You were angry: angry at the car for hitting Zach, angry that he had even for a second thought that Zoey Miller had been you, angry that she let him think that knowing it was wrong, angry that she did any of what she did at all. And most of all, angry that you were even angry with Zach for it.

Tuesday rolled around and you had to go to the class you had with Zoey Miller, with anger seething in your veins but the inability to cause a scene. You hadn’t told anyone, not even your roommate Bree, what had happened. You felt like if you made a big deal and spoke about it, then you would likely never get over it. 

You felt her eyes on you as you typed your notes during the lecture, having sat a few rows and seats to the left in front of you. Could she like… not? Face forward and pay attention to the class, stop staring at the girl whose boyfriend you tried to steal after trying to steal his cousin, thanks. 

Your next shift at the tutoring center was on Wednesday. Instead of having assigned tutees for the day, you had a five hour shift in the tutoring center where you mainly did your own homework, helped student athletes figure out why the printers wanted to act up and not print their assignments, and help the few random people who would come up to the reception desk to ask you for help on a writing assignment or to proofread their essays.

You paused as you set your coffee up and laptop down on the desk, looking across the tutoring center to see Zach hunched over his own computer in one of the middle tables, typing away. He was one of the few athletes who wasn’t assigned to mandatory study hall hours after he had gotten his grade up, thanks to your one-on-one tutoring sessions and then, once his girlfriend, study dates together in his dorm or yours. He normally wouldn’t be caught dead in the tutoring center if he wasn’t required to be there, preferring to do his homework on his own anyways.

But there he was, regardless. 

A week passed and Zach didn’t try to talk to you at all, just like you had asked. You also never saw him walking around with Zoey Miller, a recurring minor nightmare you kept on having. Thank God, you thought every time you’d see one of them around campus without the other. Zoey Miller came to class looking miserable every time, and each time you worked a shift at the tutoring center, whether it be study hall monitoring or a few hours of one-on-one tutoring, Zach was there, during his homework by himself at one of the tables. 

“Hey.”

You looked up from the book you were engrossed in, taking off one airpods to see Zach in front of you, his laptop in his arms.

“Zach…” you sighed softly.

“I’m not here to bother you, I swear,” he reassured you, sliding his laptop to face you. “I just… actually need your help with this one, promise.”

You looked down at his screen to see an essay typed out. You glance up at him again.

“It’s a big part of my grade, so I was wondering if you could proofread it,” he said sheepishly, putting his hands in his pockets.

You exhale and nod, motioning with your head to the seat next to yours. A smile beamed across his face, and he rounded the desk to sit down next to you, both of you half facing each other as he watched you go over his essay in suggesting mode, making comments and edit recommendations. 

“I like the color you painted your nails,” he said softly.

“Zach,” you warned.

He shut up.

You got to page five of the essay, having only had to make a few small grammatical suggestions, a small smile building on your face for how well written the essay had been. When he wanted to apply himself, and knew how to, Zach would always be extremely smart. Sometimes, when it came to subjects he didn’t quite care for, he just didn’t care to put in the effort. But he was very smart, he had to be a student athlete. 

Plus, you knew he had little moments of crises when he thought about his future. He didn’t think he’d make it pro, but he also wasn’t passionate for other things the way he was for soccer. He felt aimless sometimes. The ironic part of it all was that he chose English Literature as his major, the classes he struggled with the most and hence how you two met.

You had given him the idea before that if he really didn’t think he could go pro, he could keep playing soccer or being involved with it through coaching at high schools or even middle schools. But you also always told him that you thought he had it in him to go pro. He was the school’s soccer star, you weren’t sure why he always sold himself short.

“You okay?” his voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

You had been stuck on page five for longer than it would have taken to read the page over twice, Zach just sitting there in anticipation of what you thought he needed to fix before he looked over at your face and noticed you were zoned out.

“Yeah, yeah,” you shook yourself out of it, continuing to scroll down through his essay.

Another excruciating fifteen minutes until you were finished reading over every line intricately and leaving any commentary needed, you slid the laptop back closer to Zach.

“Just those edits, and it’s all good,” you told him, trying to avoid looking at him.

He tapped the desk, nodding. “Thanks,” he said, and you pursed your lips and nodded.

You bit your lip to try and prevent yourself from asking the question that has been hot on your mind, but the words vomit out before you can stop it, “How come you’ve been doing your homework here?”

You finally look into his striking blue eyes, seeing them widen before his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

“It’s the student athlete tutoring center,” he pointed out, then pointed at himself. “Student athlete.”

You titled your head to the side, giving him “the look” as you said, “Zach…”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed with a small laugh, closing his laptop closed. “It’s the only time I ever get to see you, okay?”

You had an inkling feeling that was it, and you just nod in response.

“I can stop if seeing me bothers you,” he whispered.

“Seeing you would never bother me,” you said back.

The hopeful smile that erupted on his face made your heart sting.

The moment you two were having was interrupted when another student athlete walked up, asking for help since the printers weren’t working. You offered Zach a small smile, and he gave you a wave, before you got up to go to the opposite side of the tutoring center to figure out the printer.

ᯓ⟢

On your way to class the next day, you paused in front of the class you had with Zoey to see she was standing a little bit to the side of the pathway talking to Zach. You slowed your steps down a bit as you stared at them. You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell from the back of his head, jacket, and backpack that it was him.

That same guilty look was on Zoey’s face, and she was shaking her head. 

You could tell from Zach’s body language that he was upset, the way his shoulders lifted and his arms moved about as he talked, the way he did when he was trying to drive a point. 

You didn’t feel like watching them talk, putting your head down and heading into the building to go to class.

ᯓ⟢

“So, she broke up with you?” Zoey asked as she stood there staring up at Zach. She had asked him if they could talk when she saw him walking by on her way to class, and with an irritated huff, he agreed.

“She did not break up with me,” Zach said back sternly, shoving his hands into his pocket, kicking a rock on the floor. “She is just taking time to… process… what happened between you and I on the ski trip…”

“I didn’t mean for any of that stuff to happen… I—”

“I don’t really care what you meant to have happened,” Zach said back with a shrug. “You knew you weren’t my girlfriend, pretended to be anyways, and now she won’t talk to me.”

“Well, I don’t get why she’s upset with you when I’m to blame,” Zoey quipped back, earning a look from Zach.

“Don’t,” he shook his head at her. “Don’t try to make her out to be the bad guy here.”

“I’m not,” Zoey shook her head. “I’m just saying—”

“I don’t care what you’re saying, Zoey…” he sighed. He wiped his face with the palm of his hands and huffed frustratedly. “Look. It’s just a lot for her. First, she thought I ghosted her all weekend. Then, it looks to her like I had cheated on her, and then when she found out the truth, she hears that I was starting to feel things for you, and—”

“You were starting to feel things for me?”

He gave her an irritated glare when that was all she had heard from that.

“I love Y/N, okay?” he said to her sternly, using his hands to point to himself and then off to the side for emphasis. “Not you, not anyone else, just Y/N. Whatever fake relationship you and I had when I didn’t have my memories, that’s all it was, fake. You are not the Zoey I wanted.”

Zach looked away from her, and that was when he saw the back of your head, face pointed to the floor, as you sped-walked away into the building. He couldn’t tell if you had seen him and Zoey talking, but from the way you were walking so damn fast, maybe. Damn it. 

He turned back to Zoey, who had tears in her eyes. And he felt bad, because he didn’t enjoy making girls cry.

“Just…” for the umpteenth time, he sighed. “Just stay away from me and my girlfriend, I’m begging you.”

ᯓ⟢

part five>

taglist: @faephoria @maybankslover @ursogorgeous13 @khiatonsx @enchantedstarfish @starsmoonn @zulema222 @10ava01 @ietss @rafegf-real @leather-n-velvet t @avengersgirllorianna @chalahyung01 @thaissette @emberaurora @isabellaxlilah @matchieee @purplerose291 @wtfdudesblog @mattyskies @onlyrealjoy @sabrina6272827 @probablyreadingsmutlol @loupiotesworld @tqd4455 @persefone200 @dreamygirli3 @tobucina @h1ghw4y-blog @k-k0129 @harrys-housewife @pillowprincess4him

hoping all of these tags worked, some of them weren't popping up when i typed them! i've retyped them all by hand like 3 times, but each time i save it, it comes up as half of the list not actually tagged, so pls let me know if it tagged you!

[thatnonameuser]

You said something about Azul's darling having children healing his childhood trauma. ANGST WARNING!! AND BULLYING!

This gave me an idea, he was bullied for being slow and different from other kids from the original plot. In this yandere au, that can be twisted into how he's such a loser, he'll probably never be good enough for a darling to accept him. He's so fat, not even a kind and pitiful darling, would want him. How the other mers think he's so stupid that he'd fumble trying to catch his darling and that they'll just be claimed by another, cooler, yandere. Laughing at him all the while so and flexing how their wonderful talents and skills would be enough to steal away a darling's heart, unlike him.

I can imagine how much this'll break his self esteem and brand him as a "weak yandere" to the other fishies. Azul would strive to be the opposite of all this, he would plan to take away their special abilities to "win a darling over" and make it his own, as his unique magic forms through sheer spite. He's so jaded and the thoughts of not being good enough to have a darling still ingrained in him. He probably won't fall in love with MC until after his overblot. Having the internal belief that, no darling would want a loser like him.. He probably won't care that MC is a darling at first and is just planning to use her as leverage against the other yanderes. Hence, taking over her only place to live. It benefits him as well since he'll be able to open another branch of the Mostro lounge and attract the other yanderes.

But then something changes. MC does something while they are inside the blot space. He realizes that.. she sees more in him than anyone ever had. Even if MC says so only in passing cause she's reasonably pissed- He can't help but focus on those specific words, ignoring the rest of her rant. Suddenly, he feels whole, and he knows she doesn't want to share this feeling with anyone. Suddenly...

He's already drafting a contract after their visit in the coral sea museum, giggling to himself as he marks that day their first date....

I hope you find this idea as interesting as I did!! I love Azul 😁

I really love asks for the yandereverse, because there are so many ways that the charas’ backstories can change. Azul’s bullying making him insecure when it comes to his darling is perfect, and it kind of works with how the Coral Sea sees yanderes and darlings. I also love Azul, I love me an evil mafia man.

The Coral Sea is an anti-darling rights area, so yanderes have more freedom to do what they want in order to take their darlings for themselves. And yanderes are supposed to be strong and tough, how else do they keep their darlings safe and with them? The kids of the Coral Sea know that well. 

And Azul wasn’t that. He was slow, and weak and a scaredy-catfish crybaby who hid inside a pot. HE was supposed to be a yandere? That was genuinely surprising to nearly all his former classmates. And they made sure he knew that. Their teasing was relentless….

‘Are you sure they weren’t wrong? You’re not supposed to be slow and stupid if you’re like us.’

‘He’ll probably lose his darling.’

‘I’d hate to be them, he’s so fat and icky.’

….And at the same time they rub salt into the wound. After all, they’re fast and strong and smart and talented and good looking. They’ll get their darlings no problem, while he will be left alone and broken hearted watching his darling being with someone else. All the bullying broke him down over a while, he started to think it was right. 

But despite all the bullying, Azul still tries his hardest to stop being the weak yandere his peers deemed him as. And in a form of vengeance, he’ll take away the special abilities they shoved in his face to remind him how inferior he was, After all, the yanderes that bullied him have their own insecurities that they want to hide from their darlings, so he’ll take their very best away to make himself better for his future darling. He’ll make himself better so that whoever he falls for won’t have to be disgusted by him. (While making his bullies as disgusting to their darlings as they said he’d be .)

But… He just can’t forget the years of bullying ingrained into him. What darling would want him? What darling would love him when he’s just a dim-witted octopus? That denial blinds him up till when he finally meets you. 

Once he’s aware of you being a darling he sees the opportunity, not love. (Because he doesn’t deserve you, so why bother?). After all, what would all your yanderes do or pay to have you for themselves? No price is too high when it comes to a darling, and so, getting you under his thumb is his first priority. Getting you out of Ramshackle and under his control/ownership will make this so much easier. But there’s one big problem. 

You won’t sign his contracts. You told him you’d rather never go home than sign one. I imagine after that point, he starts trying to find loopholes to get you to sign. And your friends are his best bet. So he tricks Ace, Deuce and Grim into being indebted to him, so that you’ll feel obligated to help them. But that didn’t work, because (to be honest, you’re grateful for the alone time) you just let them be stuck in a contract with him. Fortunately, Crowley got involved and you had to go into a contract with him. 

But unfortunately, instead of accepting his offer to stay at Octavinelle till the time limit was up, you proceeded to stay over in Savanaclaw. He’d never been more angry before in his life. The idea of you sleeping with and doing seven-only-knows with those beasts never made him more jealous. The smell of Leona Kingscholar on your skin made him want to add onto the debt the prince owed in vengeance. 

But not wanting to spoil anything more, in the blot space your attempts to pull him out of his self-loathing, change him. He sees that you care about him, that you don’t think he’s a not a stupid, ugly octopus and that instead you see him as something more. Someone who’s hardworking, intelligent, and even cute. And that moment, he truly realizes his love for you. You’re not like the others, you see something in him that no one ever had before. He doesn’t get that you’re saying it only for the sake of your, and maybe a little of his, life. Those words echo in his head. You love him, all his bullies were wrong, his darling isn’t disgusted by him. He feels whole….

…..And he doesn’t want to share this feeling. This complete joy.

He needs you to be his. He’ll draft another contract, one intended to make sure no one else will ever be able to steal you from him and ensure you’ll be by his side, on the land and in the sea. The museum will be like a date to him, hearing your kind words about his childhood appearance makes that younger self cry with joy.

You, quite literally, became the center of his world. And he intends to hold that same place as he becomes a part of your world. Whether you like it or not.

[stargirl-in-dilfspace]

Family Vacations - Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Reader [oneshot]

[a/n: stuck in the airport with a delay that is killing me wishing i had a frankie <\3 anyway, enjoy! moodboard was slammed together 2 minutes ago. Love yall <3]

warnings: judgemental family (at first), alcohol mentions [warnings will be added as this continues]

content/themes: family beach vacation, airports, planes, Frankie is adorable, fluff, no use of y/n, family names made up, part 1, wip short series, not proof read till i get out of this goddamned nightmare of a airport

Summary: Your first time traveling with your boyfriend, to a family vacation. You’re tired, and want to sleep on his shoulder.

You could appreciate the simplicity of two seats on either side of a plane. No middle seat. Your only issue was change. As much as you hated traveling alone, you had a boyfriend to share travels with. One who was admittedly a little broad shouldered to be sitting in economy seats, poor guy.

But that meant less sleeping upright and more sleeping on said shoulders. You weren’t really sure how he’d react to that. Despite the months spent together, this was your first time traveling together. You felt that was a make or break opportunity, you’d known a few exes to be rather hasty or difficult with you while traveling. Frankie was all calm expressions and put together with tickets and luggage. No speed walking to get to a gate, with a two hour layover. Just handholding and conversation about what you’d get for your breakfast/lunch, time blended together when you woke up at 3 in the morning. He always offered you the window, after he’d seen you staring out at your first flight, but deep down, he liked being a barrier between you and anyone else.

He was just as stressed through TSA, boarding, etc… as you were, but he could tell his calm demeanor allowed you to relax a little. If that wasn’t sexy enough, the baseball cap fit snug on his head, with little tufts of his mess of curls poking out underneath, the cotton t-shirt pulled over the chest you know you left marks on a few days ago, denim jeans, boot cut looked just a little too good, was plenty.

Sitting in your 20 A and B seats, the windows shut and the air conditioning blasting, you decided to try it, test the waters. You carefully slid the plastic of the window cover down, the view becoming nothing but bleak clouds. He squeezed your hand, only a gentle reminder that he was there.

You were exhausted anyway.

You leaned your head over, on his shoulder, to which he leaned in, the arm rest already pushed up long ago between the two of you. He wrapped a protective arm around you, nuzzling his head onto yours. Success. No movement or shifting away, or excuse to not be a pillow for you. It took you mere minutes to shift from a half-asleep mindset to completely asleep.

Your family wasn’t always the most agreeable, or easy to be around. With separated parents, it was just your dad’s side. Your grandparents had finally bought a beach house, instead of renting one every year.

Your father and step-mother had already met Frankie. You weren’t really worried about how your family would like him—more so how they would act around him. Your dad and uncles had quite the habit of getting a little more rowdy or loud when they’d had a few extra alcoholic beverages. You usually just went to bed early, or played with your little cousins.

You were the oldest, and he was the first significant other to join the vacation week. To say you had a few warnings for him was an understatement.

You only woke up to some turbulence closer to the end of the 2 and a half hour flight, your boyfriend out like a light. You rubbed your eyes, forgetting about the mascara that was on your eyes. You sighed, reaching down to awkwardly free your carry-on backpack, pulling out your phone. You flipped through some music, the droning on of the pilot announcing your descent.

Frankie usually slept fine anywhere, you figured that was a result of the years spent in the military.

He only woke up when the plane hit the ground for a rather rough landing, he sat up, stirring to look at you. “Goddamn airline pilots…” he muttered before pulling his phone from the seat back pocket, checking the time, and weather, to try to predict what it’d be like once you stepped outside.

You leaned a bit closer to shift his hat back straight on his head, a teasing smile on your lips, he gave you a grumpy face, before letting you kiss his cheek.

There was nothing like that humidity hitting your face the second you stepped outside of the air conditioning. As nice as it felt to be away from the daunting reality of travel, the creeping sweat down your back as your backpack rested there was not delightful. You craved the backseat of your grandparent’s minivan, the cold drinks they brought and the blasting AC.

Frankie’s uncomfortable shifting gave you the hint he felt the same about the heat, he let go of your check bag, running and hand under his hat as he held it up enough to straighten out his unruly curls.

“My grandparents are about 5 minutes out, Franks, wanna sit?” You offered, bumping his shoulder.

“Baby, I’ve been sitting all day, if I even think about a bench you’ll have a 80 year old man on your hands.” He chuckled, and god how you loved that sound. “…so, how nice exactly are your grandparents?”

“Judgemental…at first. My grandma might talk your ear off about sweepstakes and our family. Just listen and smile.” You shrugged, taking in the hint of nerves on his face and in his words. “My grandpa likes that you’re a pilot, apparently. He was Air Force.”

“Okay…I can manage there. Your aunts and uncles?” He asked, he was always one for knowing all the details beforehand.

“Also…judgemental. At first. My Uncle James is pretty chill though, he’s married to Penny. She’s very southern and kind. My uncle Lou might come off as a bit of a dick at first, well, maybe for a bit, but that’ll fizzle out. He’s married to Jess, who’s kind of a neurotic mess, kinda micromanage-y.” You listed, trying to keep it as organized as you possibly could. “You’ve met my dad…and my stepmom…”

“So…I’m guessing you’ll be spending most of your time with the little guys?” He asked upon hearing the lineup of family members.

“Mostly. It’s more fun to tug them around in a raft or toss them into the waves than talk about adult life bullshit downing White Claws.” You shrugged again, your hand slipping down his arm to intertwine your fingers. “They’ll like you, maybe even more than me, you can toss them farther. And probably dig better holes than me.”

“Now my only goal is to be the favorite.” He laughed softly at your admission of the title of favorite cousin. His hand shook yours playfully.

“That…should be them.” You smiled, spotting the familiar minivan, looking up at Frankie, as he braced himself, looking like someone was about to taze him.

[deakyjoe]

Something Stupid

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Reader (no pronouns apart from “you” used, I believe)

Category: fluff, friends to lovers

Summary: And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like “I love you”.

Warnings: slightly insecure Frankie and reader, kissing, awkward love confessions, pining, seemingly unrequited love (it’s requited), they’re both just super awkward really, basically soulmates, reader implied to be shorter than Frankie, alcohol consumption, Santiago described as short…

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: Title and summary from the song Somethin’ Stupid by Frank and Nancy Sinatra. For everyone out there who won’t be getting a kiss at midnight (me), this is for you <3

Consider buying me a coffee :)

“You could always kiss me at midnight, if you’d like.”

The words had been rattling around in Frankie’s brain for the past two hours.

It was the last thing he’d expected you to say when he’d mentioned, casually in conversation, that he hadn’t kissed anyone at midnight on New Years in at least half a decade.

Initially you’d scoffed, not believing him in the slightest. He was too attractive for that, women were constantly throwing themselves at him, and there wasn’t a chance that not a single woman at the party you were attending would offer to kiss him at midnight.

But when he’d insisted that it didn’t feel right with a stranger, who wants to begin the new year with someone you don’t care about, you’d paused for thought. He was right. You understood him. Yet you’d asked him to elaborate.

“So, what? It has to be someone you’re dating? Or someone you’re in love with?” You’d sipped on your drink steadily, bracing yourself for whatever answer he decided to give.

“No, not necessarily. Could just be a friend, a really good friend.” He’d clarified. “Just someone you care about, y’know? Someone you want to celebrate with.”

You’d hummed at that, deciding to tease him. “I’m sure Benny wouldn’t mind a little kiss from you.”

Frankie had rolled his eyes. “Don’t joke. I’d kiss that fucker if he wasn’t going to have about twenty women fighting for him at midnight.”

“Yeah, can’t wait to see how that goes down.” You’d giggled, a thought suddenly popping into your head. “You could always kiss me at midnight, if you’d like.”

Frankie’s brain had short circuited. He must’ve misheard you. There was no way you’d offered to kiss him at midnight. Not a chance in hell.

“Really?” He’d almost squeaked.

“Sure.” You’d shrugged, trying to create an air of nonchalance. “We’re friends, right? Have been forever. And I don’t have anyone to kiss either. So it makes sense.”

You hadn’t expected him to agree.

“Okay.”

So when he did, you tried desperately to hide your excitement.

“G-great!” You’d chirped, taking another couple mouthfuls of your drink. You had a couple hours until midnight, which you’d need to fill yourself up with liquid courage if this was actually going to happen.

Before the two of you could say anything else, you’d been whisked away by other people who wanted to chat, wanted to dance, wanted to drink. Time flew by, the clock counting down to midnight, and the only thing the two of you could think of was your kiss at midnight.

Frankie did shot after shot with his friends - Santiago, Will and Benny all having their own obscure flavours of liqueur that they insisted the others had to try. He felt extremely nauseated by the time the last one had reluctantly slid down his throat. Attempting to blink away the blurriness his eyes had suddenly adopted, he realised that the drinks had been a bad idea. He wanted to be as coherent as possible when he finally got to kiss you.

You, however, were happy to throw back multiple drinks considering you were berating yourself for being an idiot for most of the night. Why had you suggested kissing? All you were going to do was tease yourself with the prospect of having him momentarily but not quite fully.

What if he was a really good kisser (you knew he would be)? What if he held you close (you knew he would)? What if he wanted to use tongue (you knew he would)? What if he tasted good (you knew he’d taste delicious)? What if you fell even more in love with him (you knew you would)?

You were an idiot.

And so fucked.

The suggestion had been incredibly stupid.

Midnight was approaching fast, and the two of you realised at around the same time that you should probably start seeking the other out. Just so you were definitely together by the time the clock struck twelve. But every time one of you entered a room, asking for the other, you were informed that they just left.

Oh, you’ve just missed them.

I’m sure if you go now, you’ll find them.

They were literally just here.

Frankie found himself getting frustrated when he bumped into Santiago and asked after you.

“In the kitchen, I think. Anyway, excited for the new year?” He was very drunk. And Frankie really didn’t have time for this.

“Yeah, so pumped. I’ll see you later, man.” He tried to walk away but was blocked by Santi’s smaller frame. He took up a lot of room for a shorter guy.

“Why so anxious to leave, bud?”

Frankie hesitated before quickly explaining the situation. His attempt to hush Santiago when he started cheering went completely ignored.

“Catfish, my man! You’ve wanted this for years! Quick! Go, go!”

“I was trying.” He grumbled to himself as he made his way to the kitchen and left his friend behind, still celebrating.

He didn’t find you in the kitchen, but back with the majority of the crowd in the living room where most people were gathering around the television with their respective partners for the night.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Frankie exclaimed, pushing through a group to get to you. He sobered up at the sight of you. You were so beautiful.

“Well, you found me!” You smiled widely at him, the nerves dissipating as soon as you saw his face. His gorgeous face. “I figured we were going around in circles looking for each other so I decided to just stop so you could catch up with me here. And it worked!”

Frankie couldn’t help the pull on his heart at seeing you so happy at your simple plan working out. He adored you so much. “That was a good idea.”

You shrugged. “Thanks.”

There was a brief moment of silence between you.

“So, uh, ready for midnight?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah.”

The anxious yet excited energy between you was palpable. Neither of you commented on it.

As the room grew more and more busy, everyone determining that they should be together in the same room for midnight, the two of you inched closer and closer together. Until you were chest to chest. And there was no room to breathe without touching the other.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah!”

Before you knew it, it was one minute to midnight and everyone was counting down from sixty. You and Frankie didn’t join in, just looked at each other and sent questioning looks to make sure that the other was sure they wanted to do this. Neither of you had been so certain about something before in your lives as you were with this.

The countdown reached ten.

“Ready?”

So ready.

“Ready.”

Five.

This was really happening.

Three.

His face dipped closer to yours.

One.

“Happy New Year.” The both of you rushed out before your lips crashed together.

Neither of you were patient, hands immediately on each other. Yours clinging to his shirt and on the back of his head, his on your waist and cupping the side of your face.

It was exactly as the two of you had predicted, butterflies floating around wildly in your stomachs at how good it felt to finally do this. Yet, somehow, the both of you remained unaware that the other felt the exact same way.

Frankie decided to take the opportunity to be greedy, sliding his tongue against your bottom lip and then into your mouth when you opened up and allowed him to. A deep groan rumbled in his chest when your tongue met his, a smile curving up your lips slightly at the sound of it. You tugged him closer, the handful of shirt tightening into a fist and your other hand carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You’d been right about everything you’d been questioning before. The arm around your waist kept you flush against him and standing straight, the hand on your cheek stroking soft circles with his thumb.

The people around you broke away from their respective kisses, the music being turned back up and the dance party continuing. But the two of you were too busy wrapped up in your own little world. Wrapped up in each other. It would’ve taken the apocalypse to stop the two of you in that moment.

Frankie momentarily broke away for some air, feeling the earth shattering beneath him and the gates to Heaven opening when you immediately tugged him back towards you for another kiss. His cap got slightly knocked to the side when you forced him downwards even closer to you than before. But he didn’t care. He was too preoccupied with you.

He had to remind himself that this wasn’t real. You weren’t his. This was just for tonight. Just for this moment.

But you felt so warm and soft and perfect in his hands that it suddenly felt impossible that you didn’t feel the same. How could you not when the two of you fit together so easily?

So, without really meaning to, Frankie took the leap.

“I love you.”

The words were mumbled, barely a hushed whisper against your lips compared to the raucous noise of the room. But you heard them. Loud and clear.

It was evident by the way you froze momentarily, head rearing back in shock. Frankie’s heart dropped when panic suddenly flashed across your face and his hands dropped back to his sides.

He’d fucked up.

Could he play it off as a friendly I love you? No, probably not, considering that you’d just made out and the way he was looking at you was very non-platonic.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It was stupid. But I thought-“

He cut himself off. Thought what exactly? He couldn’t confess that he’d convinced himself you were as madly in love with him as he was with you. That sounded crazy. You were nice to him, sure, very friendly. But you were like that with everyone.

Frankie adjusted his cap, pushing some hair back away from where it was sticking to his forehead. Had the room always been this hot?

Still you said nothing, your wide-eyed stare speaking a thousand words.

“I’ll uh…” He cleared his throat with a halfhearted cough. “I should go. Thanks, uh, thanks for the midnight kiss.”

And he pushed past you, shoulder bumping yours, before you even had the chance to open your mouth.

“Wait.”

It came out raspy, unsure, but it was too late anyway. Frankie was gone. You stayed stuck, frozen on the spot, for way too long. What were you supposed to do now? He’d confessed his love to you and you’d done the one thing worse than just rejecting him. Nothing. You’d done nothing. You didn’t speak. You didn’t even smile. Shit, you could’ve just kissed him again to show that the feelings were reciprocated. But you’d just stood there, horrified.

It had been your dumb idea to kiss at midnight, a selfish plan to see what it would be like to kiss him. Just once. You hadn’t expected him to admit feelings to you. Yet, it had been the one thing you desired most for years. Francisco Morales loved you. And you’d fucked it up.

So you chased him.

“Frankie. Frankie!” You pushed through the crowd, desperation pouring out of you. “Frankie!”

The sight of his retreating figure filled you with relief. You could see his brown curls peeking out from under his cap, the familiarity of it filling you with warmth. But you could’ve sworn that he started to walk faster when you shouted his name again.

Calling out his name repeatedly, you didn’t stop for breath until you reached the empty hallway.

Once you’d refilled your lungs with oxygen, you straightened up. “Francisco Morales, I know you can hear me.”

He stopped still, a sigh lowering his shoulders. You rushed towards him with quick steps as he turned around and folded his arms across his chest in an embarrassed yet defensive stance.

“You don’t have to say anything because you feel bad. It was my mistake. Let’s just go back to the way thi-“

You wanted him to shut up, needed him to shut up. Just so you could speak. But he just wouldn’t, no matter how many times you opened your mouth to talk. So you just let it burst out of you in a rapid half-shout.

“I love you too.”

That got his mouth to stop moving. By some miracle.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before but I was just surprised and I don’t know how to voice my feelings well. And you confessed so easily and I didn’t know how to do that. Which is ridiculous because I could’ve just said it right back to you.”

Now you were the one rambling.

“But I didn’t know what to do because the kiss was real nice and I was focused on finally kissing you and then suddenly you were saying you loved me and yeah.”

It was Frankie’s turn to freeze and look panicked.

You really were quite the pair.

“Say something, Francisco.” You mumbled, realising you couldn’t quite judge him for this as you’d done the exact same thing a few minutes prior.

“I, uh, I-“ He paused and took a deep breath. “You love me?”

You nodded once. “Yes.”

“You love me back?”

“Also, yes. Technically, same yes I believe but yes nonetheless.” You internally slapped yourself for that. Just say yes, you idiot.

Frankie didn’t care about what you’d said. All he cared about was that you’d said yes.

Yes, you loved him.

And he loved you.

Had the two of you really been so oblivious to the other’s feelings for so long? Had you both hidden it that well? Or were you both just certain that the other couldn’t possibly feel the same way?

Either way, it didn’t really matter. It was all out in the open now and there was no turning back.

Frankie suddenly realised that he was stood staring at you silently. Why wasn’t he kissing you again? Good question.

He took the two steps forward and scooped you up into his arms, pressing his lips against yours desperately but in relief. Feelings had been boxed up for too long. He didn’t need to hide his longing for you anymore.

You giggled happily into his mouth, grateful that this had finally happened. Grateful to get this weight off your chest.

The two of you ignored the party going on in the next room, the floor shaking a little beneath you as people danced just a door away. You could only focus on each other, you’d wasted too much time already.

The confessions were whispered against just to be sure that the two of you weren’t dreaming or had somehow misunderstood the whole situation (of course you hadn’t).

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Neither of you could’ve been happier that you’d both been daring enough to say something stupid.

A/N: I wrote this instead of a uni essay. You’re welcome. Hope you enjoyed!

[lemonlyman-dotcom]

This chapter of Kali fic is inspired by this wip of May’s ( @whatsintheboxmh ) and the song is Tu Corazón Es Mio 💕

Carlos hooks his chin over TK’s shoulder but he doesn’t say anything. They look out over the Hudson, watch as the slanting rays of the setting sun cast a warm pinkish orange tinge to the fluffy clouds that hover above the horizon.

How vibrant it is compared to the last time he was here, when the slate gray buildings almost blended into the flat, dreary sky behind them.

“It was the night after I overdosed,” he continues quietly. “I just kept thinking about everything I’d thrown away, all the work I put in trying to be this perfect person. Someone worthy of a future. And I accepted that night that I wasn’t ever gonna be that guy. I was too broken, too unlovable.”

He remembers coming down to Austin with his walls built up ten miles high and his mind made up that he would never let anybody else in. Would never let anyone get close enough to hurt him that badly again.

“I remember all the hoodies,” Carlos jokes. “The attitude.”

“Shut up.”

-Thank you for the tags @ironheartwriter @captain-gillian @carlos-in-glasses @literateowl @emsprovisions @chicgeekgirl89 @bonheur-cafe @alrightbuckaroo @nisbanisba 💛-

Tagging @whatsintheboxmh @orchidscript @heartstringsduet @honeybee-taskforce @thisbuildinghasfeelings @welcometololaland @eclectic-sassycoweyes @tommy-kinard-buckley @tellmegoodbye @ladytessa74 @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @basilsunrise @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @freneticfloetry @sapphic--kiwi @herefortarlos @carlos-tk @firstprince-history-huh @fifthrideroftheapocalypse @fitzherbertssmolder @strandnreyes @paperstorm @filet-o-feelings @fallout-mars @your-catfish-friend @kiwichaeng @tinyluminaryzombie @guardian-angle22 @rmd-writes @iboatedhere @reyesstrand @never-blooms @decafdino @certifiedflower and OPEN TAG 🏷️

[beefrobeefcal]

Chubby!Frankie fic

Is it a one shot? Sure... for now. Nope. Totally not. send in your thoughts, ask box is always open!

The Catfish & The Mouse: Part 1

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Summary: You meet Frankie and he begins to full-fill his destiny. AKA How chubby!Frankie came to be!

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Word Count: 8,149 damn, I over shot that one

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, oral (f receiving), p in the v - unwrapped (don't be silly, cover you willy, kids!), talk of eating, belly praise, self esteem, weight gain

Author's Notes: This is my first fic ever; always appreciate constructive critism, but pls be gentle. Thank you to the baddie who anonymously requested a foodie Frankie fics to different fic writers on here and inspired me to put the fingers to keys to create my own debauchery. And an even bigger thank you to @harryleatherfit - this one's for you, friendo!

_______________________________________________

You first met Frankie three and half years ago at a barbeque your cousins Will and Benny hosted. Both cousins had wanted to introduce you to their army friends, and Frankie was first.

“Fish, this is our cousin, Mouse.” Benny announced, slapping a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to turn around and face Frankie. You internally cringed at Benny using your childhood nickname.

Francisco “Catfish” Morales, or Frankie as you came to love him, was handsome, but also looked a little like an abandoned puppy who needed a good home and hot meal, with his big brown eyes and sharp features. From his broad shoulders, his frame was slight. He looked a little less secure about himself than some of the other guys in attendance, but this charmed you right away.

Then you were introduced to Santiago “Pope” Garcia. Santi had the handsome-and-he-knew-it personality down pat with his intense dark eyes roving up and down your body as he shook your hand, causing an intense heat to wash up and bloom as a blush over your cheeks. Had Frankie not been there and had you not met him first, Santi was convinced you might have fallen right into bed with him that night.

Instead, Frankie’s sweet demeanor and gentle brown eyes only wavering once, down to your lips while you chatted with him, had you seeing him and only him for the rest of the evening. Your chemistry was electric and by the end of the night, he’d asked you out to dinner, setting the date for the following weekend.

It was during your first date that Frankie’s ferocious appetite piqued your interest. He’d taken you to a mid-range family restaurant with a buffet, and he’d eaten close to two full plates of food by the time you’d only managed one without any encouragement or words from you about it. You spoke about your jobs – he a heavy duty mechanic and you an administrator at an accounting office – and histories, and eventually the topic of his military past came up. He’d only recently come home, discharged from the military. You had already deduced that being in said military, food insecurity through rations and high-intensity work outs had left him feeling famished, leading to his current slight state, and based on his lack of reluctance to not eat as much as he did, you took that he may not be aware of that yet.

“I’ve done a couple tours, some with your cousins, and it’s not something I would wish on anyone.” He said quietly, looking down at his fork while pushed some scraps on his plate around.

You knew how tough military service was from hearing Benny talk about it. Will was less open with you, trying to shield you from the horrors he had seen, but would begin to open up when he was drinking.

You reached your hand out and placed it on Frankie’s holding the fork, stopping his movements, and your gaze met his. You smiled warmly and nodded, no words needed to convey that you understood, and it wasn’t going to deter you from pursuing this between you. A broad grin broke out on Frankie’s face, and he broke the eye contact, dropped the fork, got up from his side of the booth and crawled in next to you. Now sitting next to you, he leaned in, cupping your face.

“Please tell me I’m not reading this wrong…” he whispered as he leaned in and kissed you. Eyes closed, you leaned into him in kind, reaching up your hands, one to his shoulder and the other on side, feeling his slight tummy from the dinner he ate.

You deepened the kiss, opening your mouth slightly, and Frankie took it as an invitation to push further. You let a small whimper out, and his hold on you tightened.

Before the kiss could escalate further, you both heard someone clear their throat. Breaking apart and looking up, you were greeted with a scowling, middle aged waitress bearing the name tag “Martha”.

“You two need the bill?” she asked with a mischievous glint in her eyes, contrasting the frown on her mouth.

After an awkward exchange with Martha and paying the bill, Frankie held your hand as you walked through the parking lot to his truck. Once there, he went to unlock the passenger side door for you. Before he could turn the key in the door, you stepped in between him and truck, wrapping your arms around his neck. Gently pulling his face to yours, you murmured, “You’re not reading anything wrong.” before pulling him back into a kiss.

Frankie dropped his keys and wrapped his arms around you, no longer just a kiss, you reached up and grabbed a fistful of his hair and the other hand clawed at the back of his shoulder as you made out. His hands traveled around your back, and one reached down, grabbed a handful of your ass, and pulled your leg up onto his hip, pushing you into his truck. From the angle he held you at and the way his hips had thrust you up against the vehicle door, you could feel his hardening cock press up against your lower stomach, and you sighed into his mouth.

That night, after prying yourselves off each other and making your way in the truck to your house, you invited him in, and he made you come on his mouth no less than 3 times before he fucked you.

You were not letting him go.

*****

After a few months of dating, your lease came up on your apartment and Frankie asked you to move in with him; you excitedly agreed. Benny was instantly supportive of your solidifying relationship, saying, “Fish finally caught a good one!” while Will took a little longer to warm up to the idea. Santiago was happy for his friend, albeit a little disappointed and jealous that you went for Frankie and not him.

Living together allowed you to create a home and you carved out your roles together. He handled the maintenance and outdoor upkeep, you both shared the household chores, and you handled the laundry and the cooking. You had learned how to cook from a family friend with a large family, and thus you only knew how to cook for a crowd. At first, there were always leftovers after each meal, but slowly, there seemed to be less and less of that happening. You noticed Frankie having larger servings, seconds or both. After a large dinner, he would haul himself to the couch and lay back, hand on his stuffed tummy, and say how he may have overdone it but, “damn, that was good.” You took it as a compliment and carried on.

You, on the other hand, started to use the gym membership offered by your job, taking advantage of the different classes, getting up early to go work out so your evenings with Frankie weren’t interrupted. Over time, both of your hard work started to show; you were in the best shape of your life and Frankie was filling out his frame. Frankie loved your lithe body, and you loved his fuller one.

Your sex life with Frankie was – in a word – amazing. He could be gentle during Sunday morning sex, rutting into you, murmuring sweet words of praise into your ears, bringing you to a beautiful, soulful orgasm while staring into each other’s eyes. He could also use his entire body’s weight to pin you to what ever surface he was fucking you on, using his strong arms to hold you in place and his military trained voice to bark orders and causing you to almost black out from coming so hard.

Then there were the evenings after he would eat a large dinner; like the last time you made lasagna – Frankie’s favourite. After he ate all he could handle, he cradled his poor, bloated tummy as he gently laid back on the recliner, popping the foot rest out with a grunt.

“Oof, Mouse, baby. That was amazing. Gets better every time!” he said, trying to tug his now too-tight t-shirt back over his engorged belly.

“I’m glad you liked it.” You said with a smile as you leaned down and kissed him.

You stood up, and as you turned to walk away, Frankie reached out and touched your leg to get your attention.

“Have I told you how much I love you today?” He gave you the biggest, saddest puppy-dog eyes he could muster.

You laughed and rolled you eyes, then said while attempting to leave the room, “Yeah, yeah… I’ll get dessert.”

His hold on your pant leg did not let go. You turned and looked back at him. His wanton gaze roaming up and down your body.

“Oh no, baby… nuh uh… dessert is right here.” He said lowly, and tugged you back towards him, running a hand up to between your thighs and cupping your heat.

“Yeah… you take good care of me, baby…” he croons as he rubs your damp centre through your leggings while a quiet moan escaped out through your barely open mouth. “Tell me how I can take care of you.”

He was offering for you to take the lead; this was the dance you both would move through on evenings when he overindulged on your cooking. Standing over him with his hand between your legs, you run your fingers over his taut belly, lifting his tight shirt up and push down gently feeling his fullness, eliciting a grunt from his mouth and stopping his hand’s movement.

“You look like you’ve already had your fill for the night.” You coo, leaning down and rubbing a little firmer over his tummy. “Ready to pop.”

You push in a little harder with the final ‘P’ sound come from the word pop, and Frankie whimpers. You know it’s not from pain or discomfort because of the tenting that had grown in his sweatpants. You ran your hand to his waistband and pulled down, his hard cock popped out and hit up against his belly, tip angry and red, weeping precum.

Frankie shivered as you grabbed his aching member and ran your thumb over the slit. “… fuck… I’m… I wan-want to take care of you… baby… please… fuck.” He begged, each pant causing his belly to move up and down.

You stood back to your full height and removed your shirt and bra, then reached down to remove your leggings and underwear, stepping out of them and standing in front of Frankie naked, while he watched, mouth agape.

“I know, Frankie… shhhhh, I know. And you will. Can I ride you? You gonna let me do that?” you cooed again as you threw your leg over him and began to straddle his thighs. His eyebrows furrowed.

“Please baby… let’s me eat your pussy… want to eat y-your pussy… need to…. Fuck, please… ” he pleaded, as you palmed his tummy and grinded down on his thigh.

“Don’t think you could handle another meal in here.”, you interrupted him as you pushed down gently on his very full belly, right in the middle, not to elicit pain but to emphasize how full he really was. Frankie keened, eyes pleading for whatever it was you were wiling to give him. You eyes broke contact with his, and looked down where you were pressing into his middle, smiling devilishly.

Frankie shivered again and mewled, “A whole tray of your fucking delicious lasagna.”

He grabbed your waist as you moved forward on his lap. You brought your slick cunt over this throbbing cock, aligned your entrance to him, and gently sunk down, both moaning.

He held you in place, not allowing movement just yet, and said in an almost whimper, “Not too rough, baby. I-I’m pretty full.”

You smiled at him, and as you pushed to move your hips against his firm hold, you mock-whimpered to him, “You can’t handle me, big boy?”

Frankie’s eyes rolled back with a groan loudly escaping his mouth; any restraint he was trying to exercise to console his over-stuffed belly broke, and he planted his heels into the couch, thrusting up into you repeatedly. His hold on your hips was harsh, you knew it would leave bruises for you to discover tomorrow, and he alleviated any responsibility to your own movement on his cock.

Every downward movement you made had his belly crashing into your mound, sending shocks throughout your body, bringing you closer to your peak.

“Frankie! …oh fuck… baby…. Keep going….” You cried out with your head thrown back.

“You close? Yeah? …. I can feel it…. Baby… let go… baby – fuck – let go… come for me-m’you look for pretty when you come…” he called back to you in equal desperation.

A few more thrusts caused your orgasm to crash over you, sending waved throughout your body. Frankie soon followed with panting and groaning, and you collapsed on to him.

“Careful… careful… full… so full… “, he panted, smiling, one hand leaving your hip to place on the back of your neck, soothing you to quiet your movements over his aching, yet satisfied, middle.

This was not the first or last time this happened. These kinds of intimate moments remained unspoken between you. You had discussed sex, even kinks, before, but this was topic that hadn’t been discussed before or after each encounter. Although he figured you liked feeding him based on the look of awe you gave him when he ate more than his fair share of the food you prepared, purposely not allowing leftovers if he could manage. He liked to tease you by pretending he couldn’t eat another thing, then continue to finish what was ever left on the table while you praised him for being a “good boy”. He especially enjoyed when he caught you watching him while he would lay in the couch and his shirt would ride up his swollen stomach involuntarily when he really over did it, dramatically rubbing his belly. Anyone of those actions generally led to you needing him like you were in heat. He enjoyed eating to his heart’s content and was encouraged by the response he got from you; he was all too willing to go down this route, never feeling like you were making do anything he didn’t want.

He didn’t over do it or push himself every day, but it was beginning to happen more often, and he could see the effect him letting his inhibitions go had, feeling his clothing fitting different, especially around his midsection. He didn’t care, except for the nagging thoughts about what you thought of being with a big guy, one that he hadn’t been when you first started dating.

The guys at the mechanic shop teased him in good humor when he had to size up his coveralls, all making comments about how lucky he was to have a lady who cooked that well for him at home. He smiled and knew he was lucky, but still wondered if you felt the same about him.

*****

It was about 6 months later, you were at one of Benny’s fights, along with Frankie and Will.

“I’m going to get something to drink, and maybe eat. Want anything?” Frankie asked, pointing between you and Will. You both shook your heads, and Frankie nodded and smiled at Will for his approval of his next movement, then leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on the top of your head before heading to the concession.

Will watched him walk away chuckling, then turned back to you. He knew both you and Frankie were still nervous about being an item in front of him, but he thought it was sweet.

“So… everything is going well with you, Mouse?” Will asked as he turned to you.

“Yeah,” you said with an equally bright smile. “It’s good… great! He’s … we’re great!” you smiled, looking down at your hands. “Work is good and Frankie is great.”

Will smiles, softer this time, and puts his arm around your shoulder. “Glad to hear it. You look happy… happier than I’ve seen you in a while.”

Will was like an older brother to you, the one you wish you had. Being an only child of a single mother, he offered additional stability when you needed it, whether you wanted it or not. He was your babysitter growing up and kept tabs on you during high school onward. Benny, on the other hand, fit the goofy brother mold to a T; you were the same age and we’re raised together. If Will was getting you out of trouble, it was usually because Benny got you into it.

“Yeah, I’m really happy. You know, I have a good routine down; work, gym, Frankie. It’s good!”

Will gives you a soft smile and nods. You both look back towards the ring, but you get the feeling that he has more to say. You knew Frankie’s bulkier frame was not lost on your cousin, but that didn’t seem to the button he wanted to push. After a pause, he cleared his throat.

“But, uh, Fish is treating you good?” he said, voice quiet, and his eyes not moving from the boxing ring.

You turned your head and looked at Will’s profile. “Yes, he’s treating me really well.” You paused a beat and put your hand on Will’s shoulder to get him to turn to you. “I’m really good. He’s … I love him, Will.”

Will turned to look at you, eyes scanning your face, then nodded and smiled. His eyes caught something behind you and you turned to see Frankie coming back, carrying a beer and two hot dogs – one he was already halfway through.

Will smiled as he saw his friend approach and said while chuckling quietly to you, “He looks really happy, too.”

*****

Santiago was back in town for the first time in a while, and the guys wanted to go out to their favourite bar. Both you and Hannah, Will’s wife, were invited along, as it had been over six months since you’d seen each other. Frankie had taken a shower and was now standing in the bathroom, jeans on but not done up and slung low on his waist with his stomach pushing over the waistband of his boxers, brushing his teeth.

You stood, leaning against the doorway, and watched him. His mechanic job kept his body strong; his shoulders were broad and lead into his strong, thick arms and large, beefy chest. He was still muscular, but it was all now covered in a layer of softness. His thick, meaty thighs carried what bore the brunt of his new eating habits; his waist had filled out, producing love handles, and then his stomach. It was no longer flat and toned; it was a good sized belly – round and soft with a firmness underneath. But through his changes, he had never lost his strength, and it was still easy for him to pick you up like you weighed next to nothing.

“Well, hello there.” Frankie crooned at you with a sly smile. “And what are we looking at, lovely lady?”

A blush rose on your cheeks, and you smiled back. Sauntering over, you stood behind him, wrapping your arms around on top of his belly. “Just my sweet, sexy Frankie.” You planted a kiss between his shoulder blades, and he leaned back, his hand on yours.

A little while later, you and Frankie got out of the truck and walked hand-in-hand into the bar. Frankie scanned the tables and saw Will with Hannah, waving. Waving back, he pulled you by the hand towards them.

“Fish! How you doing, buddy?” Will asked while standing up, coming over to give a hug. You noticed that he looked Frankie up and down quickly, trying to take in his friend’s now larger figure.

Wait until he takes off his coat. You thought to yourself, knowing the tight grey t-shirt underneath would really highlight all the newly added Frankie there was.

Hellos and how-are-yous exchanged while you take your seats. Benny arrives and has a similar response to Frankie as Will, but neither saying anything. The conversation between the five of you flows naturally, and Frankie has his arm around the back of your chair.

Santi hasn’t arrived yet, and you’re somewhat relieved. You like Santiago enough, and he’s Frankie’s best friend, but he’s not the kindest or gentlest person. You we’re told by Benny that he had taken it a bit hard when you started to date Frankie, but hadn’t heard anything further about it. Frankie, on the other hand, got the ribbing and teasing from Santi, and although he said he was fine with it, you knew Frankie could be sensitive.

The guys started to catch up and you offered to get you and Frankie a drink.

“Just a beer, baby. Whatever is on tap.” He said, then turned back to Benny to hear his outrageous, and probably over embellished, story about grocery shopping.

You nodded and headed towards the bar. You waved down the bartender and placed your order. While waiting for your drinks, a familiar voice says your name. You turned and saw Santi.

“Hey!” and you smile as he pulled you into a hug.

He pulled back from you smiling, with his hands on your waist, “Wow… you look… insanely good!”

His eyes roaming up and down your figure. “You hitting the gym?”

You laugh and roll your eyes, still not used to compliments about your fitter form, and feeling more so that it was coming from him. “Yeah, yes… my job comes with a gym membership and I’m finally putting it to use.”

Santi nods. “Need a workout buddy? A spotter? I’ll be in town for a while and need something to do.” He said as he leaned his face closer to yours while making intense eye contact.

You try to not let your smile falter and you pulled back; Santi is smooth, but not that smooth. You’ve caught on to what he’s doing.

“I, uh, have a personal trainer.” You lied.

“And it’s a women’s only gym.” You lied again, nodding like you’re trying to not only convince him but yourself, too, so it seems credible.

Santi’s smile simmered down a bit and he pulled you back in for a tighter, more intimate feeling hug, lingering just a bit too long with his arms around your waist. You swore you heard him take in a deep breathe and smell your hair, but you couldn’t be sure.

“I missed you, Mouse.” He says in a hushed tone.

You broke the hug abruptly when the bartender called out that your drinks were ready and stated what the total you owed was. Santi tried to keep a hand on your waist and went to pay, but you were quicker and moved away, handing the bartender cash and telling him to keep the change. You hurriedly grabbed your and Frankie’s glasses and turned to Santi.

“Everyone else is here. Over there.” You motioned with one of the glasses to the other side of the room.

Santi followed you to the table and greeted everyone, and then gave Frankie a once-over.

“Fish! Man oh man! Are you enjoying the tethered life or what!” he exclaims, pulling Frankie into a hug and patting him on the back firmly.

“Yeah, yeah, Pope.” Frankie says with a headshake and a smile.

The conversation flowed again, and you started to relax into your chair. Frankie’s arm went from the back of your chair to around your shoulders, fingers drawing shapes on your arm, as he continued to chat with Santi.

After a bit, Benny wanted to get another round for everyone, and Frankie offered to help. As the two walked back to the bar, Will came and took Frankie’s seat.

Leaning in, he asks quietly, “How’s it going? Everything good?”

You look at him with confusion. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s good. Why? Does it not look it?”

“Well,” Will paused then chuckled to himself, “Frankie looks like he’s really enjoying living with you. What are your feeding him?” he asked, laughing.

“Hmmm?” you responded, turning your head to Will, with a questioning look.

He laughed again. “Frankie. What are you feeding him?” he pauses, “I’ve known Fish for a long time, and I have never seen him this…” he gestures his hands like he’s trying to find a nice way to put something. “…well-fed.”

You shrugged and feigned innocence with a head shake. “He really likes my cooking. What can I say? Just let him be happy.”

Will’s hands went up in surrender, smile growing. “No, no, no… I mean, I’m glad he’s comfortable, and being taken care of… and happy. And that you’re happy, too.”

You gave him a stern look, leaned in, and hissed, “Don’t you dare say a thing to him about this.”

Will let out a hearty laugh, waving you off. “I won’t, Mouse. I won’t.”

Benny and Frankie came back to the table and, once the drinks were handed out, Frankie took his jacket off, hanging it over the back of his chair. His shirt pulled tight on his arms and shoulders, and emphasized his protruding belly.

“Whoa, Fish!” Santi, exclaimed with raised eyebrows and eyes scanning down his ample torso. He then reached out and poked Frankie’s belly with two of his fingers roughly. “You enjoying civie life that much?”

Frankie forced a fake laugh, shaking his head as he pushed Santi’s hand away. He looked up and stared right back at him, and snarled with a not-so-friendly grin, “With this girl by my side? Absolutely.”

He sat back down and put his arm around you again, although it was a little more of a firmer hold this time. You looked up at Frankie and then to Santi, giving him an awkward smile and shrugged.

Santi’s mouth was in a tight line, and he nodded, staring back at Frankie then sneered, “Mouse says she’s hitting the gym.” He looks at you, his eyes exaggeratingly moved from your chest back up to your face with a feral grin, then back to Frankie and spat, “Clearly, you’re just making it to the kitchen.”

Before any further nastiness erupted, Will leaned over the table, hands up with a palm facing each man. “Alright. Enough. Knock it off, both of you. Let’s just enjoy tonight you guys.”

Frankie’s smile was gone, replaced completely with a challenging scowl directed at Santi across the table and his hold on you tightened. You looked up at him again, and his gaze softened. He then nodded at Will then dropped his eyes to the beer in his hand.

Santi continued to stare at Frankie, watching him in the same way, then to you with a smirk. He obviously wasn’t expecting you to return his gaze with a furious glare. What you could only describe as regret washed over his face before he looked at Will and nodded.

The conversation began slowly again, awkward at first, then picked up. Benny had more to say about his upcoming boxing opponent, Santi shared stories from his travels, Will talked about his and Hannah’s vacation plans, and Frankie talked about the interesting people he encountered at the mechanic shop he worked at. You chimed in occasionally to share an anecdote here and there, too.

After a while, Benny said he was hungry, and wanted to go to a real place with real food. After deciphering that he meant a restaurant, you all, but Frankie, started throwing out ideas of where you could go. Frankie’s lack on contribution to this topic was not lost on you, and you watched as he kept his head down, fingers playing with the residual condensation on his glass. It was Santi’s voice that made you wince.

“Come on, Big Fish.”, curling his lip as he sneered. “You must know a good place to eat. I’m sure you’ve had your fill from every restaurant in town, buddy.”

You stared at Santi, completely gobsmacked and horrified by not just his words, but his nasty tone. And you were not alone. Benny’s mouth hung open with his brows furrowed in disgust, Hannah just closed her eyes and shook her head, and Will stared at him with a terrifying intensity.

Before you could answer, Frankie, shifted in his seat and cleared his throat.

“Nah, I think this is it for me tonight.”, he said quietly, trying to force a smile, while not making eye contact with anyone in particular. “You guys enjoy. I’ve, uh, I’ve got an early morning, and need to head home.”

You knew that was a lie. He’d purposely taken tomorrow off in case tonight went on into the early morning hours, but it was barely 7:30 pm.

You were enraged. You wanted to lunge across the table and throttle Santi. But before you could do anything, Frankie turned to you as he got up and said with the same quiet tone and sad eyes, “You go with them, get some food. Call me when you’re done and I’ll pick you up.”

That look and those words broke your heart.

You shook your head and got your purse and jacket. You said your goodbyes to the group, except for Santi, purposely avoiding him. Santi only looked up at you once, but when to refused to meet his eyes, he sat back and lowered his head. Benny hugged you goodbye, giving an extra squeeze before letting you go. He then hugged Frankie next, saying quietly - but you managed to hear him- “Ignore Pope. He’s just jealous. She picked you, Fish.”

Frankie pulled back and nodded unconvincingly, and Benny patted him on the shoulder and Hannah pulled you both in for a hug.

Will waved both you and Frankie off with his anger at Santi barely being contained, not moving from his seat until he deemed that you both were out of earshot. Before you walked out the door, you took one last look at the table and watched as Will stood over Santi, berating him. You couldn’t hear what was being said but knowing Will and seeing Santi just sit with his head hung low, you knew he felt like every word like a dagger.

The ride home was quiet. Any topic you tried to bring up, Frankie either responded with in one-word answers or not at all. As soon as the truck was parked, you undid your seat belt and shuffled across the bench seat towards Frankie.

“Honey? Frankie? Talk to me, baby.” You said reaching up and cupping his cheek.

He turned his head, but his eyes stayed low. He sighed and shook your hand off his cheek, then got out of the truck. You felt crushed.

You followed him up to the front door, then into your home. You both removed your coats, hanging them up. As he was kicking off his shoes, you pushed yourself in front of him and wrapped your arms around him.

“Frankie, please. Talk to me.” You said into his chest.

He sighed again. You could feel his body tense up under your hold and his hands came up to your shoulders. It felt like he was going to push you away, but instead, he moved his hands around your shoulders and buried his face into your hair.

“I love you, you know.” You said to finally break the silence.

“I love you, too.” He responded in a sad sigh.

“And you know I love everything about you.” You pulled back, hands on the side of his waist, staring up into his eyes. “Everything.”

Frankie hesitated. He looked away from you and stated, “I saw Santi and you at the bar. I saw him hug you - his hands on you.”

He looked back up to your face, eyes wide with worry. You ran a hand up through his hair, resting it on his cheek.

“What did you talk about?” he asks, quietly, shifting away from eye contact.

“He asked me if I needed a workout buddy…”

Before you could end you sentence, you could see the hurt that crept up into his eyes. “…but I lied. I told him I had a personal trainer. And that it’s a women’s only gym.”

The hurt, while not completely gone, was now mixed with you recognized as amusement and pride as he knew for a fact those statements were both lies.

“Santi’s an ass.” You state bluntly, cocking your head and softly looking up at him.

“A skinny ass.” Frankie retorted; his brows furrowed again.

There it was. It wasn’t that Santi having interest in you that upset him or how he may have been jealous of you being with Frankie - it was the nagging worry of you wanting to pursue a leaner body than he now offered.

Scratching your fingers gently through his beard, you look up at him through your eyelashes, and coo, “Good thing I don’t have a thing for skinny guys anymore.”

Your hands moved down to his waist then under his shirt, gently caressing his middle. You feel the goose bumps on his skin and see his eyes flicker.

“Good thing I want a big boy who likes to eat and can pin me to the mattress when he fucks me.” You said softly as your hands moved further down so you could hold his belly and lift gently, feeling it’s weight.

Frankie’s breath hitched in his throat and he swallowed harshly. His now darkened eyes dart to your lips then back up to your eyes, his confidence growing hearing your confirmation out loud.

Normally, when anything to do with Frankie’s expanding waistline came into play, you held the control - seizing it – and he was more than happy to oblige, not being fully sure what you were getting out of it. But hearing you confirm that you wanted this - him in his newer, fuller state - and seeing the arousal screaming in your eyes, it was his turn to dominate.

“Yeah?” Frankie asks in a breathy voice, tongue poking out to lick his bottom lips before he begins to gently push you backwards towards the back of the closed front door.

“That why you feed me good? Huh, baby?” his voice almost in mocking tone when he asks you. “Stuff me and keep me happy?”

Your back hit the door and Frankie pushed his belly up against you, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. “I’m asking you a question, baby.” His voice dark and teasing. The unspoken thing was now in the wide open, and there was no putting back into what ever box you both had kept it in. The heat pooling in your lower belly was beginning to become more and more intense, and you could feel your cunt fluttering and clenching on nothing.

“Uh huh.”, you nodded dumbly, your eyes wide and your arousal saturating your underwear and into your leggings.

“Yeah, I bet. That’s why you cook too much food, huh? Keep me big and round?” he asks again, is a voice dripping with taunt and need.

You whimper. Frankie smiles menacingly and puts his hands on either side of your head and cages you in.

“Baby,” he licks his lips and runs his eyes down to your heaving chest, encased tits moving up and down with every strangled breath you take. “I’m hungry. I want to eat.”

He leaned in and ghosted a kiss over your wanting mouth. He pulled back enough so you’re unable to reach him with your lips and he smiles darkly. “I’m starved.”

“Wh-what do you want me to make for you?” you asked breathlessly against his mouth, trembling. Your eyes were heavy lidded with arousal and begging. Between Frankie’s whole domineering demeanor and being pinned between the door and his belly, you were like a rocket, ready to launch the second NASA gave the go ahead.

Frankie chuckled. “I want you to make yourself comfortable on our bed, baby. I’m going to devour that sweet cunt of yours, over and over and over and over….”

He trailed off as he began to nip and suck your neck, turning you into a panting, gasping, moaning mess.

“Fra… Frankie!” you keened as one of his knees jutted up between your legs, pushing into the apex of your thighs.

“Oh Mouse… baby... I can feel how wet and hot you are through your leggings and my jeans.” He cooed mockingly at you, one hand coming up and stroking your cheek. “What’s got you all worked up? Huh?”

You moaned and whimpered as he pushed his knee with more force into your aching apex - any friction at this point sending electricity directly through body from your throbbing cunt.

“Words, baby. Use your words.” He huffed.

You opened your mouth to speak, but all that came out were pathetic whimpers and gasps.

“You gonna come from my knee, baby? Just my knee?” he snarled as his knee pulled back and you whined. “Nuh uh, baby girl. You’re coming on my tongue, on my mouth. I’m ready to eat.”

He grabbed you by the waist and flung you over his shoulder. You squealed as he carried you to your bedroom.

Frankie tossed you on the bed and grabbed the waist of your leggings, pulling them down along with your underwear in one smooth movement.

“Frankie… b-baby… pl-please!” you cried, not really sure what you were asking for.

As soon as he had your bare, glistening cunt in the open, his eyes went dark and feral. He crawled up, laid himself down on his side next to you and forcefully kissed you. One hand snaked down your body and pushed in between your legs, gently moving his middle finger through your slit.

He pulled away from the kiss and nudged you with his nose. “Fuck… you’re so wet for me… you have no idea what you do to me.” He paused to insert a finger into you sopping cunt, thumb circling around your clit. He watched your face with a smile and continued, “So fucking good to me… keeping me happy… keeping me fed… fuck baby… keeping me full…”

He could feel your cunt squeezing his one finger, starting you towards your orgasm, and he then added another, pumping into you with a little more effort. You cried out and gripped the wrist of the hand he had buried in you, while the other pushed up into your headboard.

“Baby… fuck… you look so good falling a part around my fingers… you’re so close… I can feel it.” an evil smile crosses his face. “But I’m hungry, baby…” he hisses as he pulls out his fingers.

Your eyes shot open, and you growled, trying to continue your hold on his wrist. “Don’t you dare fucking stop, Francisco!”

He pulled back and grinned at you, breaking out of your hold, while sitting back on his knees. He sucked his fingers clean and moaned in contentment, “So fucking tasty, baby.”

Before you could use your own hands to get relief from the unsatisfied edge in your heat, he moved between your legs, laying down on his belly and pulled you by your thighs toward his face. Your legs were draped over his broad shoulders as he wrapped his arms under your hips to anchor you to him , then pushed his face into your cunt and licked harshly.

Your eyes went wide, and you shrieked and writhed, shooting both hands down into his curls and yanking. Frankie hummed, holding you in place with his strong arms, and began to fuck you with his tongue while his nose rubbed into your clit. You could feel the tight coil in your lower belly begin to reach a breaking point, and then you saw stars.

You came hard and loud and Frankie moaned into your pussy, lapping up everything you had like he had promised - like he was starving.

You rode out your orgasm on his face, gripping his hair and crying out. As you started to come down, Frankie moved and sucked your clit between his lips harshly, while thrusting a finger in and out your cunt.

You cried out and dug your heals into his shoulders.

“Frankie! I-I can’t! T-too much!” you wailed, as tears began in your eyes and you tried to close your legs.

Frankie wedged his shoulders further between your thighs to hold you open to him. He pulled his mouth off your clit and added another finger to his pounding of your pussy.

If you hadn’t been in a fucked-out state, you would have been unnerved by the gentle, saccharine sweet tone of his voice, crooning, “You can do it, baby girl… shhhhhh… yeah you can.”

Then he dropped his voice low and snarled, “Be a good girl and FEED ME.”

He dove his mouth back onto your swollen clit. Your grip on his hair only egged him on while he pushed another finger in and made you come again.

He didn’t relent. Before this one ended, you could feel another building up but far more intense. You knew the feeling well, being Frankie was the only man who had ever made you come that hard.

“F-FRANKIE-EEEEEE! Oh fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…” you chanted as you came again, arching your back right off the bed and feeling a gush from your abused pussy right into his waiting mouth.

“Yeah baby! Give it to me! Fuck baby!” Frankie moaned while you squirted and came all over his face and in his mouth, causing a damp spot to widen under you on the bed.

As you came down, he placed gentle kisses and licks on your pussy, nuzzling you with his nose through the aftershocks. He pulled his face back and laid his head on your thigh, looking up at you with adoration.

“Good girl.” “You did so good for me.” “Yeah, baby, you’re such a good girl” he praised while rubbing your hip with the hand that had been holding you down.

You raised your head and looked down at Frankie. He smiled, moustache and beard scruff wet. You smiled back, still trying to catch your breath.

You flopped your head back onto the pillow and closed your eyes as Frankie crawled up your body. Wiping his face on his sleeve, he smiled and chucked.

“Hey.” He said gently, while cupping your cheek.

You gave him a goofy grin, eyes still closed. “Hey.”

You reached up and put your arms around his neck. He kissed you deeply, pulled back and said, “You ready to get fucked into the mattress by a big boy with a big cock?”

Your eyes opened wide and you nodded eagerly. He sat up on his knees and helped you removed your top and bra. He kissed you as you laid bare before him and grabbed one of your bare tits in his hands while worrying your nipple between his thumb and index finger.

You broke the kiss and reached out and started to remove his clothing, not wanting to wait any longer. Frankie stood up to the side of the bed and took off his shirt while you started on his jeans. The waistband of his jeans was straining under his ample belly, enough so that the button keeping his jeans closed was so pulled tight that you couldn’t undo it without his assistance.

Frankie chuckled, his belly moving along with his laugh. “I have to suck in to get them open now. Might need new jeans.” He said, playfully, a blush of embarrassment flushed his cheeks.

Your cheeks flushed back, knowing that his belly was not currently full - not even close - and you wondered how much trouble it would give his jeans if he’d just finished a big meal.

You couldn’t help it and leaned forward to caress and kiss his belly, while he sucked it in and open his jeans, and you marveled at his stomach’s weight and size pushing the zipper down on its own.

You pushed his boxers down with his jeans, his cock popped out pushing against his plush middle, and he kicked them off entirely. You grabbed his cock and began to eagerly pump it. Frankie grunted and bucked his hips with a whine, trying to stop you.

“No… no, baby. If you do that, I’m going to come, and I want to come in that sweet, tight pussy.” He murmured as he grabbed your wrist and pushed you down on your back, crawling over you and holding you in place with his weight.

“Oh Frankie… please… fuck me… please… ” You panted into his ear.

He grunted again, and l leaned up on his elbows, maneuvering one arm between you to line him up with your entrance.

He then braced himself, elbows on either side of your head, and pushed in.

Your mouth opened and your eyes closed. The feeling of him opening you up never got old, each time splitting you into euphoria.

His eyes never left your face, looking for any indication that you wanted or needed him to stop. He bottomed out and you whimpered, pleading with him.

“Baby… pl-please, Frankie!” you moaned. You tried to move your hips to get him to move, but his weight pinning you to the mattress had you stuck.

“Oh fuck you’re tight… just… so tight and warm… fuck, baby….” He panted, enjoying you squirming underneath him.

His hips began to move, slowly, giving him time to acclimate so we wouldn’t blow his load too soon. He continued on this pace, you walls getting slicker as his cock rammed deep.

“Please… Frankie… baby…. Harder… Harder!” you cried, wrapping your legs around his waist to get more leverage.

He picked up the pace, adjusting his position over you to piston you on his cock, harder and faster, bruising into your cervix. You could tell he was getting close with his movements beginning to fall out of rhythm.

“Baby girl…” he panted and began to beg, “Come with me… I’m close. Touch yourself… pl-play with your clit…”

You reached down and circled your middle finger around your tender clit and felt yourself moving fast to your next orgasm.

“I’m close… fuck… Frank-kie… I’m close..” you moaned.

“I know…I know… Look at me when you come. Fucking look at me.” He growled through clenched teeth.

You felt your orgasm begin to wash over you, and you looked up to his face.

“Good girl… fuuu-uck!” he grunted as your pussy clench him, and he began to paint the inside of your pussy.

With one final thrust, Frankie threw his head back and cried out, “fuck!”

He was breathing heavily when he dropped your shaking legs from his hips, while you laid fucked out and panting on your bed.

Evenutally, Frankie pulled out and you let out a whine.

“I know, baby… I know.” He flops over beside you and pulls your back up against his chest, making you the little spoon to his big one, both breathing heavily.

There’s a comfortable quiet as you both lay in the bed you destroyed together.

Frankie breaks the silence with a sigh. “So… you… like me like this?” he asks into your hair.

You smile and nod, eyes still closed. “Yeah. I like, well, I love that you like to eat, and..” you pause then let out a sigh. “…and your belly. And you’re strong and make me feel safe.”

You can feel Frankie breath a laugh, his stomach pushing against you with each breath, and feel the light kisses he’s adorning the back of your head with.

As you said that, you heard a low rumble. You turned your head and Frankie smiled sheepishly at you.

“I’m hungry… like actually hungry.” He laughed. “You make me work up an appetite!”

You rolled over in his arms, facing him, and you grinned like idiots at one another. You placed a hand on the side of his tummy, drawing circles with your fingers. “Poor baby… can’t let you go hungry.”

Frankie giggled and laid his hand on yours, then kissed you and leaned his forehead against yours.

You released yourself from his embrace and got up off the bed with a slight wobble in your legs. You wandered into the bathroom to get yourself cleaned up.

When you came back out, Frankie was standing, having just pulled his boxers back on. You walked towards him and patted his grumbling belly.

“Let’s get you fed, big boy.”

You managed to get a slice from the large frozen pizza you made, while Frankie happily enjoyed the rest. When he finished that and half of a McCain’s frozen deep-dish cake for dessert, he leaned back as his stuffed tummy pushed out against the table, and sighed, rubbing it gently.

“Thank god you like to feed me because I fucking love to eat.” He laughed.

-----

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[watchyourbuck]

Fuck it Friday ✰⋆⁺

hello my dearly beloved djdjdj, I wanna apologize for being terrible at reading what yall have been tagging me in, it’s just that I’ve had to deal with a lot of residual stuff I’ve been postponing for some time and as one might imagine it’s taken me a minute to go through it all (I’m not even done yet), but pls worry not, I will read it all, so pls don’t stop tagging me!!!!!!

point in case, tagged for tonight by @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @giddyupbuck @wikiangela @lover-of-mine @exhuastedpigeon @hippolotamus @jesuisici33 & @wildlife4life ✨ thank you my loves, pls be patient with me I beg of u 😭

either way, I’m dead set on finishing Dear Maddie this week, so here’s another snippet from chapter 4 (they’re 10 total, and I’ll be posting all 10 at the same time).

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"Dear Maddie (...)

It was months until we had our actual, real first date. He had recently broken up with Taylor and I’m guessing he needed to blow off some steam. A part of me warned me not to go out with him in that state, that I shouldn’t step up into a place of pain just because I wanted him so bad, but I didn’t listen. The part of me that longed to kiss that smile of his was slightly stronger. Maybe it was wrong – or it is still –, but I’m thankful that I said yes. If I hadn’t, our story would have been postponed, or maybe it would have been inexistent. I don’t like to think about that, it makes me really upset.

The date was really stupid. Buck wasn’t in the best mood, and maybe I was in the mood a little too much. Not THE mood, just- a loving mood. I showed up at his door in a suit, carrying flowers and chocolates. You know who opened the door? Albert. I almost gave them to him. Thank God Buck’s too tall, and too blonde to mistake for anyone else. Still, embarrassing. He laughed – Albert. He thought it was really funny because Buck was wearing jeans and a sweater. My heart almost broke, but Buck was faster. He spotted me from the stairs and changed into a suit himself. I really appreciated the gesture, but I couldn’t help but notice that it was wrinkly. Like he could have never thought that I’d go all out, or that I’d take him somewhere nice, and I can’t help but wonder, even to this day, if that says more about what he thought of me… or what he thought about himself. Both of them hurt, but for different reasons."

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tagging in return @jeeyuns @thewolvesof1998 @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @your-catfish-friend @mattsire @fortheloveofbuddie @butraura @firemedicdiaz @eddiebabygirldiaz @eddie---diaz @loserdiaz @puppyboybuckley @honestlydarkprincess @smilingbuckley @bucksbackwardcap @bucksbirthmark @honestlyeddie @evanbegins @tsunamibuckley @cal-daisies-and-briars & @try-set-me-on-fire pls let me know if you wish to be removed from this!!💗

[theotherbuckley]

Seven Sentence Sunday

Hi guys, I haven't shared in a while but I am back with some more healing fic (yay) I still don't know why I call it healing fic when there is yet to be any evidence of that. Maybe I should start writing the actual healing stuff today.. we will see. Anyway, here you go:

Buck stays on the floor for a long time (maybe it’s not that long but Buck doesn’t really have the brain power to process anything right now). And he sits, staring at nothing because his eyes aren’t focusing and there’s water running down his cheeks and he touches his face and it’s sticky and he’s looking at his hands and it's red. It’s blood. It’s Eddie’s blood. Eddie’s blood on his face, Eddie’s shot, Eddie’s dying. Eddie’s leaving him. 

And Christopher is in front of him and he’s crying too and he’s looking at Buck like it’s all his fault. It’s all his fault. “It should have been you,” Chris sobs. 

And Buck agrees, why wasn’t it him?

He clenches his eyes shut a few times, trying to bring himself back to reality. He knows it’s just the substances messing with his brain. Eddie’s safe. It’s been months. He’s sitting on his kitchen floor, not the road. It’s just tears, not blood. It’s just tears, not blood. 

Buck wants to be okay. Despite everything. He really wants to be okay. It’s been months and he wants to be okay. He wants to be enough. He wants to be there for the people who need him so maybe they won’t leave.

But now he sits on his kitchen floor, shards of glass scattered in front of him, and he’s starting to think that maybe that’s just not in the cards for him.

He’s just Buck.

Too Buck.

And when was that ever enough to make anyone stay?

I know it's only 11am on Sunday for me which means it's probably not Sunday for most of you but you can take this as your Saturday or Sunday tag, up to you – Tagging the moots: @disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @jeeyuns @wildlife4life @honestlydarkprincess @eddiebabygirldiaz @spagheddiediaz @jesuisici33 @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05 @giddyupbuck @eowon @elvensorceress @watchyourbuck @steadfastsaturnsrings @housewifebuck @thewolvesof1998 @king-buckley @rainbow-nerdss @cal-daisies-and-briars @malewifediaz  @evanbegins @jamespearce9-1-1 @wikiangela @bucksbirthmark  @callmenewbie @underwater-ninja-13 @daffi-990 @fionaswhvre @aspecbuddie @lover-of-mine @nmcggg (let me know if you'd like to be added or removed)

[pedroscurls]

chance encounters | pt 6.

character(s): Benny Miller, Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Frankie “Catfish” Morales, fem!Reader summary: During your unconsciousness, a familiar face visits you and helps you come to your senses. word count: 2k a/n: Thank you to everyone that's stuck around and invested in this story. It truly was very cathartic for me and helped me deal with my own grief. Hope you all enjoyed. warnings: Brief mentions of drug use. series masterlist | ultimate masterlist

“You got your ass kicked.” Your best friend is smiling at you, arms crossed over his chest and with a knowing look. You don’t know if this is real, but it certainly feels like it is. You feel tears sting your eyes because he’s right in front of you and you want to reach out to him, but afraid that if you do, he’d be gone. That whatever this is will disappear and you’ll wake up, disappointed and alone.

“You– You’re not here.” you whisper, looking up at him. “You died and–”

“Well, no shit.” He chuckles. “You passed out. Why didn’t you just tap?”

It feels so real. He looks so real. 

“I didn’t want to quit.”

“But having someone choke you out was better?”

“You left me!” you shout, lower lip quivering as all of the pent up emotions begin to surface. “Y–You promised we’d grow old together, have families… You weren’t supposed to leave.” 

You can see his eyes soften, can see his arms begin to reach out for you, but you take a step back. You don’t want this to end so fast. 

“I’ve been a goddamn mess since you died.” Tears begin to stroll down your cheeks and you’re so overwhelmed with emotion that you feel your body shaking. Whatever this is has got to be your subconscious making this feel like it’s real when it’s not. 

“I know…”

“I can’t– I can’t move forward. I’m fucking stuck. Everywhere I look, I’m reminded that you’re no longer here. I can’t…”

He calls your name so softly that it makes you stare up at him. Then, he reaches out to pull you into a hug and you let out a shaky breath when you feel his arms wrap around you. It feels so goddamn real. 

“I don’t blame you,” he whispers. “What happened was meant to happen.”

“I should’ve–”

“Stop,” his arms tighten around you. “Stop dwelling on what happened, what didn’t happen. I’m sorry…”

“I should be sorry,” you interrupt him. “I should have been there for you. I should have–”

He sighs and pulls back to look down at you. Whatever this is, wherever you are, you don’t want to leave. Right here, with him, is where you’re supposed to be. You can’t fathom the idea of waking up only to realize that this was all a dream, that this was just a figment of your imagination, that this wasn’t real.

“No,” he says. “I wasn’t the greatest friend and I chose someone else over you. I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry. I know you were just trying to look out for me. I’ve never once blamed you for keeping your distance, for putting up a boundary.” Then, he touches your cheek and you lean into his touch, tears stinging your eyes again. “You can get through this… You’re the strongest person I know.”

“But what if I can’t? What if I don’t want to?”

“You can, and you do.” He says matter-of-factly. “You have those group of guys… They seem like great guys. Stop pushing them away. Especially the one with the curls.”

“Frankie,” you whisper. 

“Yeah, him. But all of them seem to want to be there for you, but they don’t want to push you. Why can’t you let them in?”

“Because I don’t want to lose anyone else,” you admit. 

“That’s part of life,” he sighs. “It was my time to go… Everything happens for a reason–”

“But what the fuck?” you interrupt. “I can’t find a reason why I had to lose you.” 

“Maybe you don’t need to. Maybe you shouldn’t.” Your best friend pulls you back into a hug and yet again, it feels so real. “You will be okay. I promise. You will get through this.”

—

You start to come to, slowly blinking as you stare up at the ceiling. The lights are dim, but you can hear the beeping from the machine next to you. You look down at yourself, noticing that you’re in a hospital gown and then immediately feel the pain across your body. You begin to sit up, only to be stopped by Frankie. He’s gentle, eyes so soft and yet filled with concern. 

“Is he– Where is he?” you whisper quietly, looking around the room and seeing Benny, Will, and Santiago sitting in the corner. You don’t see your best friend and your heart breaks all over again. You shut your eyes, trying to force yourself back to sleep, trying to force yourself back to where he was. 

“Where’s who?” Frankie asks.

You shake your head slowly and look down at Frankie’s hand resting on yours. “I got my ass kicked,” you say, changing the subject. 

“You did,” Benny says, standing up and walking towards your bed. “You didn’t tap. Why didn’t you fucking tap?” 

“I don’t give up.”

“Well, that’s a shitty reason. You passed out because you chose not to tap. You’re not fighting for a while.”

“Okay.” 

Benny’s taken aback. He didn’t think that you would agree so easily and he was expecting some push back, but is surprised that you didn’t have at least something to say. 

“Doc said you’ll be okay,” Santiago says with a sigh. He walks over to you, eyes just as soft as Frankie’s. “But, are you okay?”

“No,” you mumble. “I’m not,” you admit. Tears begin to sting your eyes and you turn your head to grip Frankie’s, tightening it ever so slightly. “Can I– Can I have some space?”

The guys, including Frankie, nod and begin to walk towards the door but you keep a tight grip on Frankie’s hand. “Can you stay?”

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Of course.” 

“We’ll be right outside,” Will calls out, the rest of the guys giving a single nod in Frankie’s direction. 

Once the door shuts, Frankie sits at your bedside and keeps a tight hold on your hand. You don’t look in his direction yet, eyes still staring up at the ceiling as tears begin to trickle at the corner of your eyes and strolling down your cheeks. “I saw him.” 

“Him? Who?”

“My– My best friend. I’m not sure it was real, but it felt like it.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Frankie hesitantly reaches out to wipe the tears that had fallen, his thumb grazing your cheek. 

You lean against his touch and nod slowly, turning to face him. “I feel stuck,” you admit quietly. “I don’t– I don’t know how to move forward. I don’t know how to continue this life without him and I’m having a hard time. I thought I saw someone that looked like him a few weeks ago and my entire world stopped… I knew I shouldn’t have taken that fight, but I just felt–” you take a deep breath and grip his hand. 

“I know,” Frankie says quietly. “I know, hermosa.” He sighs and leans forward, bringing your hand gently to his lips, letting it rest against the back of your hand. “I’ve been where you are right now. Shit, we all have, but I struggled the most.” He begins, moving his eyes away from yours and staring down at the bed. “I– I used drugs to escape, to not have to deal with what I was feeling, to just… To just not be here.” 

Your eyes immediately shift over to him and you slowly move to your side, eyes staring at him. You knew that he and the guys had dealt with a lot of loss, a lot of grief and you always envied their ability to just continue living their life, but you didn’t realize that they had worked through it. But hearing Frankie admit his unhealthy habits, it doesn’t take you by surprise. You used fighting to escape. You took a fight that you weren’t ready for to punish yourself. 

“Frankie…”

“I’m okay. I’m okay now,” he continues. “But for a while there, I was lost. I was stuck,” Frankie looks up at you. You can see the vulnerability in his eyes; he was baring his entire soul to you. “It took me a while to accept the help, but in the end, I’m where I’m at now because of those guys. We don’t ever want to push you, but you have to know… You have to realize that we care about you, so fucking much.”

“I don’t– I don’t know how to accept the help, Frankie. I can’t lose anyone else…”

“I can’t promise you that we’ll live forever.” The corner of his lips lift slightly. “But I can promise that for the time we have, we’ll be right here. I will be right here… And just know that we’ll be here when you’re ready. You’re our girl, hermosa…”

You then sit up in your hospital bed and release his hand, only to wrap your arms around his shoulders. When you feel his strong arms wrap around your frame, you bury your face against the side of his neck and quietly sob into him. Frankie tightens his hold on you, using one hand to rub your back as he allows you to let out all of the pent up emotions. 

“You’ll be okay, hermosa,” he whispers. “You’ll get through this.” 

“Can– Can you call the rest of the guys in here?” 

Frankie nods, pulling away to look down at you. “Of course. Be right back.” 

You sit up in bed and let out a quiet sigh. After a few seconds, Frankie walks back inside with the rest of the guys in tow. Santiago, Will, and Benny all walk towards your bedside and it’s Benny that breaks the silence first. 

“I’m sorry,” he says with a sigh. “I should’ve been more stern and not let you take that fight. I knew you weren’t ready and–”

“Benny, stop. It was my fault. I threatened to go to a different gym. I know– I know you were just looking out for me.” You look up at him and see his blue eyes staring deeply into yours. You can see the guilt written all over his features, so you reach out and take his hand. “I’m sorry for… everything.” 

“You don’t have to apologize–”

“Just,” you sigh quietly. “I wanted to feel the pain, wanted to hurt because I felt like I abandoned my best friend. That maybe if I didn’t abandon him, he’d still be alive,” you whisper, looking around the room to the rest of the guys. “You’ve all been patient with me… You’ve all been there by my side and–” You feel your breath catch in your throat as you shut your eyes, releasing Benny’s hand to place your own on your lap. 

“I’m too scared to lose you guys,” you admit out loud. “I don’t– I don’t want to lose any of you.”

“You won’t lose us,” Santiago replies softly. “We’re here. We’re not going anywhere.”

“And we understand your fear,” Will adds. “Understand that getting close to someone opens up to the possibility of getting hurt if something happens, but we can’t… That isn’t a way to live.” He looks down at you and bites the inside of his cheek. “We all found our way back,“ he continues. “And we’ll be here to help you find yours.” 

Tears continue to trickle down your cheeks and you look between the four of them, a sense of security and safety and love washing over you. 

“You’re our girl,” Benny repeats. 

“That’s right,” Santiago says. 

“We won’t let you fall,” Will adds.

“And we won’t ever leave your side,” Frankie finishes. “As long as you’ll have us.” 

You nod, finally feeling the walls you set up around yourself beginning to break down. The four of the guys lean down to give you a hug, feeling their strong arms around you. 

For the first time since losing your best friend, you feel like things can be okay. It may take a while, but you feel like you can get there. 

With Benny.

With Santiago.

With Will.

And with Frankie.

—

END.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Fic Update: Steal My Sunshine

After a decent break due to canon related impact panic, here is chapter six!

Summary:

Buck is pulled in for police questioning. Eddie has an enlightening memory.

Snippet:

“I’m really sorry,” he tells her over the station phone. “I wasn’t trying to scare anyone.”

“Oh you weren’t trying? Well you damn well didn’t try not to.”

“Athena-”

“Bobby is worried sick about you, Buck. You can’t just do this to him.” 

Buck feels like shit.

“I know. You’re right. I’m sorry. Tell Bobby I’m sorry. I’m coming back soon, and I promise I’ll explain everything,”

“Everything, like whatever the hell is so important about Arizona that you couldn’t even leave a note or send a text?”

“Yeah,” Buck sighs. “Exactly.”

---

Tagging:

@epicbuddieficrecs @theotherbuckley @sevenweeksofunrepression @slowlyfoggydestiny @buckleybabyblues

@diazsdimples @exhuastedpigeon @aquamarineglitter @loserdiaz @steadfastsaturnsrings

@your-catfish-friend @incorrect9-1-1 @hawaiianlove808 @babytrapperdiaz @watchyourbuck

@lyricfulloflight @tizniz @aroeddiediaz @estheticpotaeto

@buddieswhvre @l0v3t0hat3y0u @diazpatcher @mage8

[issacballsac]

Wishes to Unknown

Unknown/Saeran Choi

Male Reader

Joining the RFA had been nothing short of a fever dream to you

To anyone with an ounce of sanity even

So the <<Hi!>> of the very person responsible for your forceful recruitment into this organisation wasn’t exactly welcomed

<<Long time no see. We chatted before, remember?>>

With reluctant annoyance you did the very thing that got you in trouble at the start, responding.

<<Yep, what exactly are you messaging me for now?>>

<<Thanks to your help back then, I could preform my task without trouble.>>

<<Glad I could help🫂; you wouldn’t happen to be telling me what said task is/was?>>

<<Anyways. I told you I’m studying abroad, remember? But if you don’t it can’t be helped.>>

<<Yes I understand but why should I care about any of this?>>

<<Well—um…I’ll be back in Korea today. Remember I told you I’ll make it up to you if you help me? :)>>

<<So…>>

<<I’m not sure if I’m liking where this is going..>>

<<Do you have time today? Why don’t you join me to see the sky tonight? I have what I like to call a haven of sorts where I come whenever I visit Korea.>>

<<I’d love to go there with you.>>

<<Honestly, today is my birthday and you’re the only one who could properly congratulate it for me.>>

<<I promise you won’t regret it.>>

<<You have such a way with words—I almost forgot what happened last time you invited me to a mysterious location.>>

<<Look—>>

<<If you come to me. I’ll make it a VERY pleasant day for you. I even made you a crown with red roses. :)>>

<<Still not convinced dude. Bc if I get added to another group chat after this I will delete this app.>>

<<Okay ok; I’ll bring ice cream, Yk with summer it’s getting hot. We can also watch popular films? I’ll get everything ready I promise.>>

<<Youll join me, won’t you? I’ll be waiting for you.>>

UNKNOWN has left the chatroom

Every instinct in your body spiritual and physical told you not to go to the location sent to your phone.

BUT

Curiosity couldn’t kill the cat twice, could it?

Simply walking out of the apartment with your current attire as the event wasn’t that special to you; you began your search of the park.

The park was sparsely populated from the locator position the greatly mysterious UNKNOWN had graciously granted you

None matched the original picture he sent all those weeks ago

“Brown hair, green eyes. Brown hair, green eyes. Brown hair and green eyes.” You repeated as if it were a mantra looking over the same groups of people.

“Looking for me, my prince?”

“Indeed I was my dearest catfish. That’s obviously not you in the pictures.”

Almost unbothered by the comment he maintained eye contact, “Yes, well my identity is somewhat of a secret. Please try to understand, I can’t simply go throwing my image everywhere.”

“Sure sure. Anyways, happy birthday…Unknown? Got a name I can call you?”

“I’m a bit reluctant to say—no, it should be fine. Call me..”

“Shall I call you my stalking prince?”

His eyebrows furrowed towards his eyes, “If you’ll let me finish.”

“Yeah yeah, go ahead.”

Firmly clearing his throat, “It’s Saeran. But don’t go yelling it everywhere and definitely not to the RFA.”

“I won’t, I promise. But I really like your name, it’s nice to actually learn something about you.”

“Well you already know a lot. I’m not the guy from the photo, I hacked your phone on certain occasions, I like ice cream, and now you even know my name.”

“Yes we could almost get married with how much I know about you.”

“Though you are beautiful if you don’t mind the compliment. You’re not such a weirdo either, even if you did trick me into joining a strange charity.”

“Yes you make me sound SO amazing and dreamy.”

Taking a bite from out of his ice cream cone, “Yes, because you are, and I am totally not speaking out of my ass when I say this.”

“Enough of the chatting, I was promise a nice a pleasant day, so, show the way.”

Snickering slightly, Saeran stopped himself from reaching for you hand and opted for a follow-the-leader route.

On a secluded hill, a blanket lay bare with a singular unbranded laptop at the centre. A brown woven basket sat not far from the main attraction.

“Birthday picnic?”

He sat down calmly on the blanket. Lightly yet rapidly clicking on the keys of the keyboard.

The soft white light beamed against his already pale face, “Any suggestions for a movie?”

“I thought we were starting gazing.”

He quirked a brow at your remark.

“The constellation I want to see isn’t out yet. In the meantime won’t you accompany me?”

A small rotation of movies was shown before you both ultimately decided to just wait.

“Sae look! Isn’t that the constellation you wanted to see?”

His eyes snapped up as the stars aligned perfectly. A small smile was rapidly tugging at his face. “Sae?”

“A—sorry, it was just shorter.”

“I don’t mind it.”

Readjusting yourself on the mat, you took another spoonful of the mass amount of mint ice cream your newly acquired partner brought.

“Hey, so do you like—wish on the constellations? Or is it just the individual stars?”

“I’d call you stupid, but, I don’t know myself.”

“Here. I’ll wish you another happy birthday for each one of the stars in the constellation.”

“That’s a lot of stars you know?”

“I have all night and tomorrow morning.”

An actual laugh escaped from him, a laugh that had been held in for years it seemed. A pure and genuine expression.

“You know…there are better ice cream flavours than mint.”

“Don’t ruin my birthday. Please.”

This was based off of his 2019 birthday event

@viernane

[musings-of-a-rose]

Can I pls have "you made me a better person" with Santiago Garcia?

A Better Person

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x f!reader

Word Count: 650+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Santi deserved to have some soft fluff love 

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Santiago Garcia Masterlist

Santi never thought he would settle down. He definitely dated, but no one seemed right, no one made him want to stay and look for no one else, no one made him feel special, important.

Until you came along. 

It was unexpected, a random encounter out in the world rather than at a bar or on one of those dating apps. You’d both reached for the same random flavor of chip on the shelf, Santi nearly choking on air as he took you in, his stomach leaping into his throat. He made small talk, flirted a bit, and oh my God when you laughed, the entire world laughed with you. He asked you out and you seemed shocked, like no one had ever asked you out before. 

That was a year and a half ago.

Inseparable, you and Santi had moved in together after a year, a big step that Santi had never thought to take with anyone else. But now that you’re here? Everyday? He was so happy he thought his heart would burst from his chest. Getting to wake up next to you every day was his own personal heaven on earth, listening to the little sleepy sounds he’d pull from you when he ducked his head under the covers and shifted between your thighs. He didn’t see how he could get any happier.

Well…there was one way. 

It was grocery day and Santi and you were at the store, picking up the things on your list and also checking out some new items. He seemed a little extra handsy today, always wanting to be touching you, his eyes nearly never leaving you. You turn the corner and head down the next isle, pausing to reach up for the same flavor of chips that you’d reached for when you met Santi.

“We gotta have thes-”

Words die on your lips when you turn around, seeing Santi on one knee, gently taking your hand, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“Querida, before I met you, I was lost. I wasn’t the worst guy ever but I also wasn’t great. I’ve done some terrible things and I thought I was destined to just waste away, find no true love in this life. But then you came along and I was instantly drawn to you, falling in love the second you looked at me. I’m still shocked you agreed to go out with me,” He chuckles and you feel tears start to well up in your eyes. 

“Every day with you has been the best day of my life. You made me a better person, a person worthy of your love, and for that, I am forever indebted to you. And I want to spend the rest of my life, and whatever lays beyond, trying to repay you. Querida, will you marry me?”

Santi holds out a small black box, opening it to reveal the most gorgeous ring you’d ever seen, exactly your style. 

“Oh, Santi! YES! YES I would love to marry you!”

The widest smile stretches across Santi’s face as he slides the ring on your finger, standing up with a slight groan that was cut off by your lips on his, applause from the other customers fading in the background as you kissed him deeply, arms wrapping around his neck. He pulls back, putting his forehead to yours. 

“I love you, querida.”

“I love you, Santi.”

Within a few months, you became Mrs. Garcia and never go a day without being loved. 

—----

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri @marrianena  @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol   @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics  

[thewolvesof1998]

Moodboard Monday / Tidbit Teaser Tuesday

share a moodboard as well as a snippet from the fic it’s for!

Tagged by @hippolotamus and @theotherbuckley

God, there are so many juicy tidbits I could give you but I think this one will do for now:

“Cariño,” The endearment slips easily from his lips, sits right on his tongue, like it’s always meant to be only used in reference to Buck.  Buck shivers, “Fuck Eddie, it’s-it’s you, it’s always been you, I thought you knew that when I asked you to touch me.” “You know more than anyone that sex doesn’t always translate to more,” Buck nods, “If it wasn’t clear, it’s you for me too.” Without breaking eye contact he leans down and places a kiss on Buck’s left hipbone, breathes “Mi sol,” into the skin. Buck’s eyes widen, a small gasps falls from his lips, Eddie kisses the right hipbone, “Mi corazón,” He kisses the sensitive skin just above Buck’s cock, “Mi Vida,” His breath fans over Buck’s tip causing him to thrust up, just barely missing Eddie’s chin. “Fuck Eddie, you-you can’t go saying all that romantic stuff when you’re that close to my dick,” Buck says “Why?” He says, nuzzling at Buck’s cock, smearing more precum over his face and into his hair, ironically Buck’s probably going to get his shower after all this is done, maybe they’ll share one to save water. “Because it-it almost made me come and I need you in me-me before I do.”

This fic is so close to being done, if the writing spoons keep coming hopefully it will be in the next few days🤞🏼

Previous snippets premise/moodboard

Tagging: @wikiangela @wildlife4life ​ @eddiebabygirldiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @spotsandsocks @try-set-me-on-fire @jesuisici33​ @bekkachaos @buddierights @spagheddiediaz @911-on-abc @shitouttabuck @911onabc @exhuastedpigeon @malewifediaz @your-catfish-friend @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @mangacat201 @hoodie-buck @eowon @rainbow-nerdss @nmcggg @pirrusstuff @evanbegins @giddyupbuck @sammysouffle @smilingbuckley @jamespearce9-1-1 @carrierofthepaperclips @jeeyuns @callmenewbie @thosetwofirefighters

[ariundercovers]

It's Not You (Frankie "Catfish" Morales x Reader)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x afab!bi/pan!reader (No use of y/n!)

Length: ~1.5k words

Summary: You accidentally start imagining a woman while Frankie's going down on you. Panic ensues.

Written a a first-go for the @triplefrontier-anniversary ! I hope this drabble doesn't totally suck, lol. I have another one in the works to keep the LGBT+ themes going!

As always, I'm super open to any and all (constructive) criticism. Let me know what you think, what you love, what you hate. I just like to hear from you!

“Oh fuck, fuuuuck-”

Your eyes are squeezed closed, Frankie’s head tucked tightly between your thighs. This was always one of his favorite ways to be - right in the middle of you, tongue working all over your folds and clit like he were the originator of the very action itself.

He’s an expert - absolutely brilliant at it, and he can always get you off in record time, faster than anyone ever could before him. So, this time, when your orgasm completely eludes you, feels entirely too far away for too long, you start to question yourself. 

What is wrong with your body? 

That’s when you squeeze your eyes shut and try your best to picture something that’ll help get you there. 

The sloppy sounds coming from his mouth and between your legs fuel your visions as you’re picturing him on top of you, inside of you, between your legs, and then, suddenly… blonde. Blonde and curvy and boobs on top of you, smothering you. Your eyes jolt open, the image crashing over you like a bucket of ice water, and then you reach down, tugging at his oily curls and pulling him up toward you the best you can manage.

“Fuck, baby, baby, stop, please.” You hate to even ask him something like this. You hate to lose the feeling of it, because it’s still good, even if it’s not quite getting you there right now. He stops immediately - you know he always would - and you whine as you roll your head and look down at him. “It’s not gonna work this time, I don’t think.”

His brows raise at you, confused, and then his face shifts to one of concern as he gets to all fours and closes your legs, shifting them off to the side so he can climb back up the bed and envelop you in his arms.

“What’s wrong, amorcita?” You sigh, closing your eyes and tucking yourself tightly into his chest, trying to figure out how to explain.

“I, uh… shit. It’s… I don’t-” He cuts you off, then, your inability to tell him what’s going on makes him even more nervous.

“What did I do? Tell me, please, so I don’t do it again. I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to, whatever it is.” You pull back from him just enough to look up at his face, eyes widening as you realize that he thinks this is his fault.

“Oh, Frankie… No. No no no no. It wasn’t… it could never be you. Hell, you’re the fucking best I think in the whole damn world, honestly. It’s not you. I promise.” You can see the visible shift, the sigh of relief he offers you as he settles against the pillows, tension evaporating out of his chest and shoulders.

“Okay. Then what is it?” Your teeth worry at your lower lip, unsure how to broach it. You’ve never been forward with him about any of this - about your sexuality, about the things you’d probably, ideally, want to be able to explore with him. You’re pretty sure he won't react poorly, but the truth is that you just don’t know.

You’re terrified to lose him.

Taking a deep breath, you shift away from him further so you can get a proper look at him, meet him eye to eye, and get a sense of the expression on his face, you gulp down the worry that’s lodged in the back of your throat.

“I, um… It was taking a long time, so I thought maybe if I closed my eyes and focused on the feeling it would help move things along, you know? But then I couldn’t stop thinking, and it was all you at first, but then suddenly it wasn’t and I, uh… I panicked. It was like instantly I couldn’t handle it anymore.” His face is still concerned as he reaches out to brush his hand along your bare arm, bringing your knuckles up to his lips and pressing a kiss there.

“What do you mean by ‘it wasn’t’?” His voice is soft, gentle. Like a feather brushing across your cheek or… something like that, at least. You do your best to answer.

“I, um… started picturing a… girl?” His eyes widen at you slightly and he tilts his head in your direction.

“Okay?” He responds. You blink back at him for a long while, trying to read his expression the best you can. You’re not getting much out of it, though, and you scrunch your brows in confusion.

“Okay?” He stares at you for a moment before his lips turn up in a slight smirk, shaking his head incredulously when he realizes you’re shocked by his response.

“Are you expecting me to be upset that you were thinking about someone else, or were you expecting that I’d be upset that it was a girl?”

“I, well…” You cut yourself off before you can blabber yourself too deeply into a hole. It sounds much stupider when he says it out loud, as it happens. You mentally smack yourself for a moment before you let out a deep breath and an uncomfortable laugh. “That sounds really dumb when you say it out loud.” 

He chuckles and brushes his fingers across your temple, then down to cup your cheek in his hand.

“Amor… You’re not going to scare me away just because you’re what… bi? Pan? Some other word that probably exists but I don’t totally understand? It doesn’t matter to me. I love you. As you are. Always.” You can feel yourself getting a little choked up at his admission, the honesty of it all really getting to you. You can feel the intensity of his love for you beaming from his face, right into your chest where your heart beats so fast and so loudly that you can practically hear it in your ears.

How in the world did you end up with the most perfect human on the planet? You can’t possibly even imagine another one better than this, more pure, more kind… it’s not possible. The very earth itself would shatter if such a person existed, you think.

Your own self-doubt creeps in and begs for validation once more, even though you know deep down that yes, of course he’s telling the truth. Of course. 

“Really? You mean that?” He just smiles back at you and shifts closer so he can lean forward and press his lips ever so gently against your forehead, one hand cupping the back of your neck as he does.

“Of course I do, baby. Come on. And for what it's worth, I’m not upset that you started thinking about someone else, either. Maybe it’s something we should talk about. Bringing in a third? If that’s something you think you need, that is.”

“What? You’d just… be okay with something like that?” He only smiles back at you, genuine and earnest.

“For you? Anything.” You shake your head in disbelief, sighing out a massive breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“I don’t deserve you, Frankie.” He huffs and shifts forward, caging you in with his arms on either side of your body. He looks down at you, head cocked to the side, before he leans down, lips attaching gently to your collarbone. He presses little kisses all the way up it, across to your shoulder, along the upper ridge of your collar and to the base of your neck. Then, his kisses turn to little licks and nibbles as he works his way up your neck and to your jaw, biting lightly right at the tip of your chin.

“You’re right. You deserve more than I can give you. I suppose I’ll just have to spend my life making up for that, won’t I?” His teasing tone is apparent as his lips continue their trek, up your cheek, across your cheekbone, your nose, and finally to your own lips. Your arms wrap around his upper body and pull him down onto you with force, needing to feel him pressed along your body.

“It really doesn’t bother you? Not at all?”  He shakes his head ‘no’ and then nuzzles his face into your chest, between your breasts, hands pushing them together toward his cheeks as he hums into your skin. He resurfaces just long enough to answer.

“Not even an ounce. I fucking love you, just like this.” You smile and close your eyes, reveling in his affections.

“Thank you, Frankie. I don’t even… I’m not sure what to say.” He keeps kissing you, all across your chest and breasts, hands massaging the tender flesh softly.

“Wanna let me try again?” You look down at him with a smile and a laugh, fingers reaching up to tug at his curls, pressing your fingertips into his scalp. You pull him up to you again, pressing your lips together for a long, hard moment.

“Absolutely, I do.”

[foli-vora]

Female reader! With Frankie Morales.

Prompt 25, 34, 49, 55, 60, 70. (Maybe not all just the ones you see fit)

So I was thinking reader is a very smart, resourceful woman who has been through a lot and because of that she’s also very cold and keeps to herself, but Frankie is completely in love with her (some angst maybe because we all love it🤭) and then she decides to just have a night with him (maybe a lil explicit😏) and he confesses but she rejects him because they’re going to get that money and doesn’t want feelings in between (break my heart completely please).

Hope you like it even though it may be too much 😅 congrats on the 3k again!!!

Hello, sweet angel! Thank you so much for sending in your request! I didn't include #34 ("Why are you so cold?") because , try as I might, I just didn't feel like it fit anywhere as I was writing it - I hope that's okay! Thank you again, my sweet, I hope you enjoy!

cold to the touch

frankie morales x f!reader

word count: just over 3.1k warnings: angsty-angst, swearing, mentions of guns, heartbreak, SMUT 18+ ONLY: fingering, unprotected p in v, brief use of saliva as lube

It’s a knock on the door that brings you out of the haze that had filled your mind, eyes lost and almost in a trance as rain hits the window of the shitty motel room. Your gaze darts to your door, the cool steel of your handgun braced between tight fingers as you stand and peer through the peephole.

The familiar form of Francisco is blurred through the small lens, but your heart calms at the sight of him, and you open the door for him to step through without a word before returning to your previous seat on the bed, a small collection of your chosen weapons set out over the bedspread. 

He gives a small smile as he enters, hat briefly coming off for his hand to run anxiously through his flattened hair. The door shuts softly behind him, and you watch him shift from your peripheral as you pluck at the guns and go about cleaning them.

He clearly has no interest in speaking first, so you do the honours and fix him with an expectant stare, sighing sharply through your nose.

“Can I help you, Catfish?”

It’s brief, but you catch the twitch of his expression at the name. You’d lost count of the amount of times he would merely murmur Frankie, wishing you would see him as something more than just a member of Santi’s team.

You weren’t as close with the others as he is. Your tie is Pope, after working with him on and off for the last few years and becoming fast friends. You had no bad blood with the other men, seeing them occasionally whenever visiting Santiago and getting along just fine. You’d taken a shine to the younger Miller sibling and his rambunctious ways, but you weren’t family to them.

Not in the way Francisco was.

“Just coming to see how you are,” he finally mutters, tongue running along his lips as he slides his hat back on. “Haven’t gotten the chance to talk a whole lot, what with everything going on and everyone being around.”

You’d seen him the most out of Santi’s group of brothers over time. There’d been an instant connection of sorts the day Pope had introduced you, the sparks that shot up your arm when you shook Francisco’s hand telling you there was definitely a fierce attraction.

He was handsome, smart, kind, fiercely loyal and protective—what wasn’t there to like? You’d kept it close, though, simply not interested in forming any sort of relationship with anyone, especially not Santi’s best friend.

Your private work took you all over the world, and it was often dangerous… it didn’t make sense to make roots anywhere, only to leave and potentially not return.

Picket fences just aren’t your thing. 

You shrug, eyes falling back to cleaning cloth in your hand.

“‘m fine,” you reply shortly. “Heard you got a baby now—congrats.”

There’s very little sincerity in your tone, and you think he picks up on it immediately, though he doesn’t make a show of it so you’re not completely sure. You swifty reassemble the rifle with a few loud clicks in the starkly quiet room and stand to return it to its case. 

Santi had mentioned the little bundle of joy around eight months ago, when the pregnancy was half way through, throwing in the long expected break up of Francisco and his girlfriend as if it would matter to you. They remained amicable, he had said, for the baby.

What do you care?

He gives a quiet thanks, the noticeable shuffle of his boots along the rough worn carpet catching your attention. You eye him over your shoulder, exhaling quietly and straightening after clipping the heavy duty case shut.

“Why are you here, Catfish?”

“Don’t call me that,” he insists quietly, shoulders bunching almost nervously as he digs his hands into the front pockets of his dark jeans. “I’ve told you—Frankie is fine.”

You turn and lean back on the small tattered table, crossing your arms tightly over your chest and looking blankly at him. What’s his play here? Surely he wasn’t here to just catch up?

You’re not stupid, you’ve known he’s had feelings for you for a while, but you’ve never acted on anything, ignoring Santi’s not so gentle pushing to pursue something with his friend.

It’s not for you.

Haven’t you made it clear enough by declining his drink invitations? Admitting freely you have no interest in relationships whenever the subject is brought up with the guys? 

“I just wanted to talk.”

You’re already shaking your head before he finishes, pushing yourself off the table and striding up to him. Your head tilts, gaze darting along his features for a clue as to his agenda. He gives nothing away, the walls of defence clearly high behind his eyes.

“That’s not all you’re here for, Francisco.”

An emotion passes across his face, too quickly for you to catch, but you don’t miss the way his eyes fall almost automatically to your lips before returning to your eyes.

Ah. 

He’s here for that.

A rejection is already building on your tongue, intent on turning him right around and seeing him out of your room so you can continue to prepare for tomorrow, but you can’t deny the small flames starting to build in your core at the mere thought of spending a night with him.

You’d always been curious about him. How could you not? He sure looked like someone who knew their way around, and your strong attraction to him didn’t help ease your curiosity at all. One night wouldn’t matter. It would just be sex, a release before the big day.

He takes a step closer, clearly emboldened by the way your own eyes look at his mouth in interest, and you try not to react to the warm, calloused hand that cups your cheek softly.

You wait, hanging for the immediate press of his lips, but nothing comes, and your heart starts to thud heavily in your chest. It feels like he’s looking right through you, eyes searching the depth of yours as he lingers mere inches away. You don’t like it. It feels like he can see all of you, and it’s not a feeling you enjoy. 

His thumb brushes over the plush peaks of your lips, and they part automatically under the soft touch. 

“Can I kiss you?”

A gentleman.

Your heart drums against your ribs, quickening with every second that passes. You hear your pulse in your ears, feel the way blood wildly rushes through your system. 

Swallowing, your eyes harden and flicker up to meet his, your mind almost desperate to hide your unexpectedly strong reaction to his simple touch. 

“Make it worth my while, Francisco.”

He consumes you.

His mouth is hot and searching, tongue immediately pushing through your parted lips and sliding along yours, dominating your mouth and leaving little room for you to fight for control. You knock the hat from his head as you curl your fingers in his short waves, tangling in the dark strands and tugging sharply.

It’s something he obviously likes, exhaling sharply into your mouth and grabbing desperately at your waist. His fingers tug at your comfy tee, ripping the soft cotton off your frame and palms sliding roughly up the bare skin of your back. Your chest presses into his rain soaked shirt, nipples hardening from the cold clinging to his clothing and the drag of the fabric.

You barely feel the dismantled guns digging into your back when he pushes you onto the bed, his fingers already working your shorts down your legs and forcing his way between them. His mouth doesn’t part from yours until his fingers search for your core, slipping up the inside of your thighs and running gently over your folds.

It’s hard not to shake at the touch, to break away from his mouth to catch your breath as they focus in on your clit, circling methodically over the swollen nerve and bringing your hips into a steady roll against his hand.

He continues his search of you, index finger probing at your entrance, gathering the building arousal sitting there before pushing in and curling softly within you, another finger quickly following.

“Shit,” you exhale shakily, feeling him push deeply into you and start to thrust them slowly, each time curving to reach your g-spot and quickly building an intense pressure in the pit of your stomach.

Definitely knows what he’s doing. 

It’s intense, the stretch of his fingers working you open and leisurely bringing you closer to an unexpected edge with every focused press on the spot behind your clit. It’s never been like this for you, this easy, often saddled with men who either don’t believe in the clit or g-spot's existence or think a couple of rubs over your labia is enough to set you off. 

His thumb pressing on your clit has you whining into the cool air of your room, the extra stimulation mixing with the bliss of his patient fingers working away in your cunt and you’re done. He doesn’t let up, intent to work you through your climax as it overcomes you, groaning into the skin of your throat when he feels your hot muscles flutter around him.

He drags his fingers from you and shamelessly slides them into his mouth, something wicked in his gaze as it locks with your own.

You get impatient. You reach for his fly, deftly releasing the button and shoving at the waistband of his jeans down until you can free his stiff cock, wrapping your fingers around the hardened flesh and giving it a teasing stroke. You shuffle back on the bed, desperately pulling at his hips until he falls into you, his cock pressing into the mess he’d previously made of you.

“Hey, what’s the rush?”

“Shut up and give it to me, Catfish—I don’t have all night.” You say it with a flirty curl of the lips and he gives a half grin in return, leaning up to rest on his knees as he tears at the buttons on his shirt.

It’s not long before he cages you against the mattress with his arms beside your head, sinking his hips lower for you to guide him towards your weeping entrance.

“Do you want me to wea—”

“Shh,” you hiss, working the head of his cock along your slit before lining him up and lifting your hips to coax him into your warmth, “I’m clean, I’ve got the rod… just—god, please—”

“Impatient,” he mutters against your mouth, his exhale blowing across your lips as he finishes what you started, sliding forward until he fills you completely with a low groan.

He gives an experimental thrust of his hips, the stiff feel of him rubbing against your walls and nudging almost painfully at your cervix.

It feels good, he feels good. So fucking good.

“Come on,” you groan, eyes fluttering and thighs opening impossibly wider in invitation.

He fucking delivers.

You’re sure he’ll feel the marks you scratch into his back for days to come, even weeks, as he starts to move in earnest, pulling away only to slam back into you and steal the breath right from your lungs, You cling to him, rock your hips to meet each and every thrust until your thighs start to shake.

He’s talking against your skin, voice low and hoarse as he rambles about how much he’s wanted this, how long he’s waited, how incredible you feel and how crazy you drive him.

It goes in one ear and out the other, your mind too caught up on the way he takes you apart, hammering so fucking hard into you you’re sure you’ll still feel him tomorrow.

It’s both not enough and too much.

You don’t hear the words that fall from your lips. You’re not aware of the noises he practically tears out of you. You don’t know if you’re pushing him away or pulling him closer, all you know is that the pressure he’s building within you just needs that little bit more, that extra little push to send you completely over.

He must know.

His hands lock around your thighs and hurl you closer, his own thighs coming to sit comfortably under yours as he continues to hammer into you.

You watch through hooded eyes as he swipes his thumb across his lips, gathering saliva on the rough pad of it before rubbing it firmly over your clit, circling, circling, until it’s right there, you’re right there—

“Fuck, Frankie!” 

He follows you only a moments later, weak to the way you feel coming undone around his cock and screaming the name he’s been asking you to call him for years.

He falls into you, blessing you with the relief of his thumb coming away from your oversensitive nerve as he braces his hands back on the bed and continues to pump into you, milking his climax for all it’s worth and filling you with his hot cum. 

You lay staring at the ceiling, body on a high as your heart threatens to burst through your chest. You tremble from him, thighs aching as they hang loosely beside his hips. He pulls away after taking a moment to catch his breath, carefully pulling himself away and dragging his softening cock from your tender cunt. 

It takes a small while for you to roll onto your side and swing your legs over the edge of the bed, but when you do, you take a small steadying breath and will your heart to just calm the fuck down. 

There’s a small space between you, his hand running through his hair to brush the stray, sweat soaked strands from where they cling to his forehead.

“I didn’t—” he starts, pausing to heave a deep breath, “I didn’t come here just for that.”

You stay quiet, keeping him in along the edges of your line of sight as you stare blankly at the motel door. You watch him shift, watch how he runs his palms anxiously up and down his thighs, taking comfort in the way the denim rubs along his skin.

He doesn’t seem in a rush to tuck his cock back into their tight confines, the soft skin glistening from the shitty warm lamp lighting the room. 

“I’ve been wanting to… to tell you something.”

Swallowing, you run your tongue along your suddenly dry lips and nod slowly, “Okay.”

You know where this is going. You just fucking know. It was a mistake to let it get this far, you should’ve turned his ass around the second he stepped over the threshold.

A part of you still remains curious though, maybe a small, hidden part of you wants to know you’re not the only one stuck with a crush and not knowing what the fuck to do with it. 

“I have feelings for you, have done for… fuck, ages,” he sighs, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees and running a tired hand over his face. “I should’ve said something earlier. I wanted to, but I just… couldn’t.”

“Oh.”

You can think of nothing else to say.

“I’ve never felt this way before,” he continues, his voice taking on a much quieter, almost nervous tone, “and I’m fucking terrified, to be honest.”

Silence follows his words and, quite frankly, it’s uncomfortable.

Seconds trickle into minutes, the minutes start to drag on, and the longer you stay quiet, the more unpleasant the air between you becomes. You shift, suddenly very aware of how cold the room is and realising that you’re still naked.

You reach for your discarded shirt and slip it on, standing from the bed and ignoring the way his cum feels pooling at your tender entrance and seeping down your thigh. You feel restless, almost tempted to start pacing the length of the room to work out some of the tension growing along your shoulders.

This had been a bad idea. Shit.

“Will you say something, please?” he finally asks, downtrodden eyes looking up at you with a shine of hope. “Do… do you feel the same?”

You stand still, fingers unconsciously plucking and twisting at the low hem of your shirt as you think.

Do you feel the same? You feel… something, but you’ve never bothered to put a label on it. You like the man, have done since the beginning, but it was nothing you wanted to act on. You have a life, a busy job—there was nothing you could give him. There was no room for him in your life.

“Look, I… I don’t have an answer for you,” you finally reply, swallowing the uncomfortable dryness building in the back of your throat as the pain starts to leak into his gaze. “I’m not interested in relationships, Francisco—I never have been. I’m not interested in that at all, not even with you.”

Too harsh? Maybe. 

The words hang between you and the discomfort grows. His lips press into a firm line and he gives a slow nod, his eyes finally falling to the floor and tracing the questionable stains worked into the carpet. You feel like you can breathe again. 

“You should go,” you mutter firmly after another beat of silence, “I’m sorry you wasted your time here.”

He clears his throat quietly and stands, turning his back towards you as he tucks himself back in his jeans and reaches for his shirt. You see the walls of defence have seemingly been built again, and a pang of guilt pulls at your gut for being the cause of it.

Maybe in another life you would’ve jumped at his words. A life where you had options, had the freedom to. A life where you felt as if something was missing, that it could maybe be filled with picket fences and bottles and someone to sleep next to every night.

But it wasn’t another life. It was this life, and it simply didn’t link up with his.

“It hurts more than I was expecting,” he mutters hoarsely, bending to swipe his hat from the floor before heaving a low sigh.

“What does?”

He looks at you from the side, hat pinched between his fingers, “Loving someone who doesn’t love you back.”

And then he’s gone, and you say nothing to stop him.

You watch the door shut softly, the click of the lock somehow deafening in your ears.

Warmth rests on your cheek, and when you raise your fingers to brush it away, you’re surprised to find tears smeared over your fingertips.

You watch as you rub it further over your skin, studying the way the liquid shines in the light and then you shake your head, wiping the other stray tears away before turning back towards your weapons and continuing on as if nothing had happened.

-

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