#Interior Doors Market Size

[lordcrumps]

The Sims 2 For Rent - CC EXPANSION PACK

Sul Sul!

~ More photos under the under the cut ~

Last week the Sims 4 got a new pack, this week Sims 2 players get that same pack! In a collaboration with @platinumaspiration and @tvickiesims and a HUGE assist from @episims, we bring you "The Sims 2 For Rent CC Expansion Pack!"

This is a large set, and advisable that it does not get merged even further than it already is! - I ran into some issues when trying to do this!

When you explore this pack, please take a look at the marble ring rug, it has some surprisingly cute rug swatches! I put a swatch in it to remove the marbles themselves, so you have a cute small rug! - I only mention this as I was going to bin the rug off once uploaded, but then I found it had some lovely swatches!

FUNCTIONALITY

So most of the items will function as they should and intended as. Its just not just deco items.

There is two collection files included, separated into build buy! Please note that fences and stairs and spandrels cant be but into a collection!

The squatty toilet that took me over 12 hours to make, yeah they squat, animation can be a bit bouncy but such is life. This toilet also can be flushed, get dirty and is cleanable!

Outdoor plants are seasonal!

Counters are animated with insides built, there is no drawer on the counter, I did not want to change the shape of the unit, and saw EA did the same - ignore the fact they grab something from a non existent drawer

Wardrobes have interiors elements, and have working doors!

Each Kettle have two versions, choose only one, one for the colour traits mod / one 'normal'. They function as Tea makers! Huazzah!

Spandrels in build mode are classified as fences. I made a variant with fence / no fence.

Several of the larger deco pieces such as the Arch Gate, or umbrella are actually lights!

Radiators act like radiators!

The Aircon Unit is completely functional, doesn't lower bills, but it does lower sims temperatures!

"Water Heaters" act like solar panels, they get money off your bills!

The Electrical Fuse box has 2 versions, I kept them both in, one wall deco and one functions as a burglar alarm - I wanted more alarms.

Most Sofas / Chairs have morphs!

Slots added to the Vanity and Bathroom Cabinet!

FENCES / SPANDRELS / STAIRS OH MY!

I have included swatch images of each of the spandrels, fences and stairs and labelled them to match, this is so that you can go in and take out any of the swatches you do not want. This is because there are lot of new fences and the menu can feel cluttered with them in for some people.

DOWNLOAD

ALT - SFS

~ Credits / Thanks / List of items not converted under the cut ~

MORE PHOTOS

CREDITS

Mini fridge is cloned from Targa over at MTS - so now it works just like a regular fridge barring a few animations (get baby bottle and juggle)

Kettles were cloned from @pforestsims's kettle, link here.

@jacky93sims for the base of the squat toilet! Epi for the code edits!

THANKS

@tvickiesims, @platinumaspiration thank you soo much for helping with the objects, really couldn't do it myself!! Your amazing, awesome, and some of the best creators out there! Thank you again!

@episims - YOU ARE DA BOMB! Thank you for all your help in getting those toilets working with me, and everything else you do when you answer my little annoying questions! Appreciated like you wouldn't believe!

LIST OF ITEMS NOT CONVERTED - @sims4t2bb

Due to the sizing / functionality of these objects, they will not be included in this pack!

All Yer Fixins Untenable Food Stand

Mali's Moonlight Market Craft Stall

Vegan Vittles Night Market

Late Night Snack Dessert Stall

Rice to Meet You Night Market

The Unrestroom

Fisherman's Slats Window - Tall

The Secret Maze Window - Very Tall

The Secret Maze Window - Super Duper Tall

Stained Glass Tomarani Shutters - Tall

Stained Glass Tomarani Shutters - Tall and Open Wide

The Save Us From Ruin Tallest Cinched Wall Curtain

The How Many Times Do We Need To Tell You It's Not Silk Taller Wall Curtain

The We Are Going To Jail< Tallest Wall Curtain So You Know the Truth Curtain

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Wow, I just came across this old post of mine. I didn't know that it didn't sell. The residence isn't that nice, but it can be decorated, the dinsaurs are the main attraction. The 2019 house, in Washougal, WA has 3bds, 2ba and they're asking $1.15M. They rent it out as an Airbnb.

Now, are these animatronic figures meant to be outside in the cold, heat, rain and ice?

This is the residence. The thing is, that what do vacationers do once they get here? Apparently, they can play w/the dinosaurs. They "are life-size motion controlled dinosaurs, they roar & move at the touch of a button, so much fun is to be had for all who seek adventure on this wonderful property."

I don't know if it's such a great idea, letting everyone and their kids play with these. They must be insanely expensive.

There are quite a few of them. Now, these are the original real estate photos from when it was first sold in 2018 for only $145K (that's incredible, but maybe it was just for the land). So, what do they look like now, after going thru at least 3 winters?

It was sold last January 2023, so the current owners haven't had it that long and it's on the market again.

This is the interior of the lodge. The most interesting decor is the big head. I would imagine that the vast area and high ceiling would be hard to heat, especially in the Washington winters. I don't care for the chandelier - doesn't really go with the theme.

The decor is kind of dull for a vacation house. It should be more fun and colorful.

Dining area.

There's a another sitting room through the double doors.

Full kitchen.

There's a side door out to the property.

Bath #1 is a shower room.

The 3 bds. and 2nd bath are upstairs.

Large room for the adults.

The 2nd bath is a shower room.

The other 2 bds. have bunks with trundles, so they sleep 3 each.

I don't know if I would want all the miscellaneous guests playing with the dinosaurs. And, do they get to also use the Jeep? I think that I would fix up the house and make it a residence.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/61-Joy-Ln-Washougal-WA-98671/249038340_zpid/?

[simstorian-blog]

Residential Floorplan Suggestions

New York City: TWO

(CC List + Links)

World Map: San Myshuno

Area: Spice Market – Waterside Warble

Lot Size:  30 x 30

Capacity:

A Dive Bar

An Internet Café

A Pizzeria

A Tattoo Parlor

Bonus: 6 residential rental units floorplans completed – not assigned

Gallery ID: Simstorian-ish

Packs Needed

Expansion Packs

Cats & Dogs

City Living

Discover University

For Rent

Get Together

Get To Work

Growing Together

High School Years

Horse Ranch

Snowy Escape

Game Packs

Dine Out

Dream Home Decorator

Jungle Adventure

Outdoor Retreat

Parenthood

Spa Day

Star Wars: Journey to Batuu

Strangerville

Vampires

Stuff Packs

Crystal Creations

Home chef Hustle

Laundry Day

Moschino

Kits

Castle Estate

Courtyard Oasis

Cozy Bistro

Desert Luxe

Recommended Gameplay Mods

(Please read through what each mod has to offer before deciding if it fits your gameplay style or not.)

Carl’s Dine Out Reloaded

City Vibes Lot Traits

Functional Tattoo Parlor

Functional Venue Lot Traits

Lock/Unlock Doors for Any Lot

Spawn Refresh

Use Residential Rentals shared areas as Community Lots & Create Multi-Purpose Community Lots

Build Mode

CharlyPancakes

Chalk Pt.2 (Tiles)

Felixandre

Chateau Pt. 1 (Stone Foundation)

Chateau Pt. 2 (Doors, Metal Pieces, Tiles, Walls)

Colonial Pt. 3 (Fence 2, Plaster Foundation 2, Railing 2)

Florence Pt. 1 (Fresco Mural)

Grove Pt. 4 (Plaster Column, Plaster Floor)

London Interior (Dining Chair, Stool, Walls)

Paris (Cartouche Large, Corbel, Swag)

Schwerin (Terracotta Female)

SOHO Pt. 2

SOHO Pt. 3

SOHO Pt. 4

Harrie

Brownstone Pt. 2 (Traditional Door Frame – Med, Traditional Door – Med, Traditional Window 2 - Med)

Coastal Pt. 2 (Column)

Klean Pt. 3 (Concrete Floor, Painted Walls)

Kwatei Pt. 1 (3x1 BiFold, Double Arch, Single Interior Door)

Mutske

Stairs Add-on

Lijoue

Louer Collection (Iron Fence, Railing, Stone Stairs)

Peacemaker

Bistro Expanded (Awning 1x1)

Graffiti Mural 01

Pierisim

Winter Garden Pt. 2 (Double Door High, High Window w Bottom x2)

Sooky88

Checkered Marble Floor

English Country Wall Set (Subway Tiles, Subway Tiles w Wallpaper)

Scandinavian Wall Set (Plain w Tiles)

Syboubou

Neighborly 1 (Ceiling Outdoor Light, Mailbox)

Neighborly 2 (Interphone)

Buy Mode

AroundTheSims4

Laundromat (Seating x3 – Metal Base)

Tattoo Parlor (First Aid Kits, Gloves, Ink, Ink Display, Light, Saddle Stool, Tattoo Gun)

Cepzid

Functional Tattoo Chair

Felixandre

Berlin Pt. 1 (Curtain – Tall)

SOHO Pt. 1

Harlix

Baysic (Coffee Table, container, End Table, Kitchen Cabinet, Kitchen Counter, Kitchen Island, Kitchen Sink, Kitchen Trolley, Kitchen Accent Counter 1-3, Sofa)

Jardane (Leather Pouffe)

Kichen (Cabinet, Cups, Glasses, Plant, Shelf)

Kichen 2.0 Pt. 2 (Glasses 2 & 4)

Harrie

Shop The Look 1 (Armchair, Coffee Table)

Shop The Look 2 (Ceramic Side Table)

Shop The Look 3 (Circular Cushion)

Spoons Pt. 2 (2 Tile Glass Pedastal- Short & Tall, Counters, Espresso Bar, Island, Pastry Platter, Pizza Board, Shelving)

Kiwisims4

Blockhouse Dining (Booth Seating)

KKB

The Chilling Home (Module Bar Stool)

LittlleDica

Greasy Foods (Napkins, Salt Shaker, Stalls Door, Stalls Wall, Vents, Wet Floor Sign)

Modern Kitchen Stuff (Soft Breeze)

Rise & Grind (Décor Mural 2, Décor Syrup Bottle, Décor Wall Painting Menu, Dining Tables – All, Wastebun Counter)

Max20

Happily Ever After (Sign of Attention)

NANDO

Fashion Store (Ceiling Lamp)

Pierisim

Coldbrew Coffee Shop Pt. 3 (Menu, Paper Cup, Tea Box, Tips Jar)

MCM Pt. 1 (Simstudio Display)

MCM Pt. 4 (Kitchen Island)

Ravasheen

Shake and Shimmy Dance Floor

Shop Chef (Drink Dispenser)

Severinka

Industrial Light II

Simkoos

Clutter Dump Pt. 2  (Boba Notepad, Boba Stacked Cups V1, Cafeteria Straw Dispenser)

SimspirationBuilds

Toffee Pt. 1 (Art)

Syboubou

Catherine Sushi Restaurant (Wall Shelf 1 & 3)

Contemporary Haven (Armchair, Artworks, End Table, Sofa 3P Left)

Macaron (Counter Display)

TaurusDesign

Lilith Chilling Area Pt. 1 (Bartender Kit, All Drinks, SulSul Sign)

Tuds

Cave (Panel Light 2 x 4)

IND 01

IND 03

Turn Couch

Wondymoon

Fraxinus AIO Computer (DL on Patreon)

DO NOT REUPLOAD MY LOTS.

DO NOT CLAIM THEM AS YOUR OWN.

DO NOT PLACE BEHIND A PAYWALL.

Tray Files: DOWNLOAD

[solargeist]

does the end city in your au look different? i know you said they look almost like bird houses, but is there any major differences in appearance? or interior? do they have similar rooms to what humans have, or do they have different rooms that humans dont have? like.. would they even have kitchens, since they can just make food from nothing?

i am curious about any information about this

Okay so my mental architecture is really bad but yes the cities do look different and I’ll try to explain bc lord knows I cannot draw it

In Minecraft, it’s floating islands, with tall towers made of pale and purple stones, there’s usually only one or two towers per island, maybe a boat in the air. It’s pretty barren.

In my version…. The towers are like stacked birdhouses, big open windows above pointed in different directions, and mostly stone at the bottom. (Think maybe like the OSMP bar that Philza had built? Something easy to fly into?) Porches and balconies are important to them.

At the bottom, along the street, are markets, bars, whatever. What do angels even buy if they can conjure things? Well I think everything takes energy, so sometimes it’s easier to buy or trade, sometimes you don’t have the skills or imagination that others do, so they buy fabrics or paper, things like that.

These places were built with the mind of things in creative mode, by things that can fly or teleport, spawn and despawn things.

The edges of the islands I imagine are like balconies, there’s not bridges or anything connecting them to other islands/cities. You just fly.

Everything’s also big because They are big. The furniture is big, when Grian stands next to a table, it’s at his chest, he was already short before, but he has to really climb now. (His room is appropriately sized I imagine? Doors and windows big, but give the boy a chair his size y’know?)

I think they have normal rooms, nice wide open spaces, clutter tucked away into corners. I think they’re big fans of projects, so you’ll see blueprints or canvases around, left out bc everyone is nosy and likes to see.

They don’t really have living rooms that are couches and maybe a tv, their living space would be a dining hall ? Without the food part.

They live in like… Packs? Community? Instead of spaced single houses, I mean you each get your own space for storage or sleep whatever, but there’s shared areas, big open libraries, long tables. It’s how watchers see Grian so often, it’s like he’s a kid living on a college campus.

They have a kitchen, something like a kitchen? A place you can start a fire at least, but there’s not really a fridge or oven. Grians cooked over an open flame before, he enjoys it and it makes him feel normal.

I dunno abt plants or weather or things like that. I have not been to the End in minecraft in a million years 😭

[absurdthirst]

Landlord From Hell {Dark!Frankie Morales x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 21.2k

Warnings: Stalkerish behavior, voyeurism, spying, masturbation, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, manipulation, abusive relationships, gaslighting, murder, trophies

Comments: You've found the perfect apartment to rent. Even better, the landlord is also the hot handyman. Frankie Morales seems to know you better than you know yourself, because he's watching you.

🚨🚨DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT - This story contains dark themes of obsession, stalking, murder🚨🚨

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

It’s perfect. You look around the apartment in the older, yet very well maintained building with a giddy eye. Trying to be critical of any glaring flaws but immediately falling in love with the very lovingly preserved crown molding and the charming original door knobs with the hole for a skeleton key on the interior doors. It was obviously a single family home at one point in time, but it has very thoughtfully been turned into two good sized apartments while still keeping the overall feeling of the place. The price is right and fits comfortably within your budget, although the included utilities wouldn’t hurt at all. 

It is surprising that the space hadn’t been snatched up, but it might be because the landlord - and the downstairs neighbor - might be choosy about who lives above him. Your shoes squeak slightly against the original hardwood floors and you grin as you make up your mind. Turning around and facing the ruggedly handsome man  who had introduced himself as Frankie. “I’ll take it.” You tell him before you give a small shrug of one shoulder and give him a sweet smile. “If you’ll rent it to me, of course.” 

Frankie offers you a smile back, nodding his head. “Absolutely. It’s yours if you want it. You can move in whenever you want. I just need the first, last and security up front then we are squared away.” He can have the lease ready ASAP. You smile at him again and his heart flutters in his chest. It’s been a while since he’s felt like this. Giddy. Yet he can’t let himself get carried away. You’re going to be his tenant…even if you are gorgeous.

You grin, nearly wanting to throw yourself at him for a hug. It would be inappropriate, even if warranted. The housing market is insane and this place is going to be perfect. “Yes! Absolutely. I can- do you - will you take a check?” You ask, eager to secure the apartment. “It’s good, I can show you my bank balance if you need, or would you prefer me to just send you the money another way?” You don’t know how he expects your rent each month, but you don’t mind locking down this gorgeous apartment, already arranging your furniture in the space in your mind. 

“Check will work and I can take a check every month if that works for you.” Frankie offers and you nod, “absolutely. I can do that.” He smiles and watches you open your purse to pull your check book out. His eyes dip down to your ass, appreciating the view and he knows it won’t be an issue to have you living above him. You seem sensible and you seem to be friendly. Unlike his previous tenant who left before the end of the lease.

“I can’t wait.” You gush, happy that you’ve found a place that seems so perfect. “Is it okay if I start bringing things over tomorrow?” You ask as you fill out the check. “I have to be out of my old place soon and I want plenty of time to make sure it’s clean so they don’t try to keep my deposit.” You roll your eyes, knowing they will try, even though you’ve barely been there a year.

“Of course. I just have some repairs I want to finish off later this afternoon so you’ll be fine to move in tomorrow. I’ll give you the key now so you can get situated before your place is cleaned up.” Frankie offers, a friendly smile on his face as he lists the things he needs to do to make sure the apartment is ready for you. He is excited to have someone living in the place above, both income wise and just to not feel so lonely. Ever since the boys found their own lives, he feels left behind and alone.

You give a grateful smile when the keys are in your hands. It’s nice to have a landlord who is interested in making repairs and keeping the property in shape. “Thank you, Mr. Morales.” You hum, making him wince and shake his head. 

“Call me Frankie.” He offers, giving you a grin. “Mr. Morales makes me think you’re talking to an old man.” 

You giggle slightly and nod. “Okay Frankie.” You beam happily, excited to get moved in and your stomach flips at the way that his smile makes you take notice of the way his eyes crinkle slightly. He’s handsome, and that's not a bad thing.

He loves the way you say his name. It makes his stomach twist and he hasn’t felt this way in such a long time. He grins back at you, excited by your excitement. “I’ll see you tomorrow once I’ve finished getting the place ready. Just need to do some paint touch ups.” He tells you, tucking the check into his pants while you grab your purse.

“See you tomorrow.” You agree, letting him walk you down the stairs and you look up at the house again, charmed by the gorgeous exterior. It’s going to be amazing living her, you just know it. “Thank you again.” You tell him, walking down the steps to your car. More amazing than the apartment is that there is actually parking right in front of the house in the form of a driveway that you will not have to fight people for. “I’ll bring breakfast!” You call out happily before you get into your car to hurry back to your old apartment and start packing. 

Frankie watches you leave, waving as you drive down the street, and he already wishes you were moved in. Perhaps he could invite you over for dinner, or a drink. Get to know you better. The possibilities make him smile to himself as he goes back into his unit, making a mental list of what he is going to need to make your apartment more...secure. He wants you to be safe and sound and happy. He can help you achieve that.

****

“Good morning!” You call out, hopping out of the moving truck and grinning at him. “Don’t worry, I have Steven stopping by soon to help out.” 

Frankie frowns, wanting to ask who Steven is, and he does despite knowing he shouldn’t ask such personal questions so soon. “Is Steven - is he your boyfriend?” He asks, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible.

“Steven?” You laugh and shake your head. “No, we are just good friends.” You tell Frankie, opening the back of the moving truck with your furniture in it. You had moved some of your small things already, but this is the boxes and big items. You huff in amusement since it’s been awhile since you’ve dated.“Don’t worry, I won’t be having people parade in and out of the apartment.”

Frankie is pleased you don’t sleep around but this Steven guy already had him on edge. He’s worried that this guy is more than a friend and you’re just making it seem like nothing. Still, he has a glimmer of hope that Steven is just a fleeting inconvenience. “Me neither. I don’t - I’m a relationship kind of guy.” Frankie reveals.

You snort and roll your eyes. “Those types of men still exist?” You ask jokingly as you pull a box from the truck. You hand it to Frankie and a black Toyota comes creeping up the road as if they are reading house numbers until the driver obviously spots the truck and zooms up to part on the road. “Oh perfect. There’s Steven.”

Frankie braces himself and when Steven appears, slightly geeky and awkward but endearing, he relaxes a little. Seems like the kind of guy you’d friendzone. You rush up to greet Steven as he gets out of the truck and Frankie huffs when he sees that Steven is practically in love with you when he hugs you. “Steven. This is my landlord slash neighbor Frankie.” You intro is the men and Frankie offers Steven a smile, gripping his hand perhaps a little too tight after saying hello.

“Nice to meet you.” Steven offers, flexing his hand before he turns to you. “Sorry I was late. I rushed over as soon as I could.” You wave it away and motion to the truck. “We just opened it and Frankie has also offered to help so hopefully this will go pretty quickly!” You smile at both men. “And then we’ll get that pizza and beer!”

Frankie feels the vibe between you shatter with Steven here but he pushes through, knowing it’s gonna take more than moving some boxes to get you to like him. He wants you to like him…perhaps as more than just your landlord. He might show off a little, carrying more boxes than Steven and making you giggle when he pretends like he’s gonna add another one. Steven carries one box at a time, carefully setting it down where you tell him to while he makes eyes at you, making Frankie want to roll his own. “Just friends.” He scoffs under his breath.

Once the small couch and bed is moved in and situated, you flop down on the couch with a grin, happy to have everything in your place. “Wow.” You look over at where Steven is slumped down at your little kitchenette table and Frankie is leaning against the counter. “I’m moved in.” You tell them happily. “Food should be here soon.”

Frankie wants to hint for Steven to leave but the guy won’t be leaving, he’s too in love with you. It’s obvious. “You didn’t need to get food.” Frankie tuts, shaking his head at you and watching as you start to unpack your plates.

“And you didn’t have to help me move my stuff in.” You counter, opening up the fridge to pull out a six pack of beer so you can offer him one. “Do you want one, Steve?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” Steven says, almost pulled out of his thoughts and you hand him a beer. When you hand Frankie’s beer to him, his fingers brush yours, making his heart flutter and butterflies explode in his stomach.

There’s an almost awkward silence but you decide that it’s just because Frankie and Steven don’t know each other. “So Frankie, Steven has helped me move what? Three times now?” You ask as you open your own beer and take a sip. “But this time has been the fastest and it’s all thanks to your extra muscle.”

Frankie smiles, pleased that you recognize the effort he put in to get you moved in faster than Steven and he is a little concerned that you have known Steven long enough to move 3 times. However, that shows that Steven has no chance of being with you. You've obviously friend-zoned the poor bastard. "Happy to help." Frankie tips his beer towards you.

You smile at him, unable to deny that he is handsome, even sweaty right now. His hair curls from underneath his hair and his shirt is rolled up in an incredibly sexy working man kind of way. “So….” Steven breaks in, making you look away from your landlord. “Do you want me to help you unpack?” He offers, looking desperate to please. 

You shake your head and tilt your head to the side in confusion. “I thought you had plans with someone this afternoon? I don’t want to take up all your day.”

Frankie smirks at that, hiding it behind the beer bottle when Steven flusters. “No. I, uh, I can cancel if you need me here to help you.” He stammers. 

“I’m sure we will be fine to finish up. Right?” Frankie says to you, trying to act nonchalant.

“Yeah!” You light up, not wanting your friend to miss out on spending time with someone, you want him to find a girlfriend and be happy. He had mentioned plenty of times being lonely and wanting someone to develop a relationship with. “I mean, who better to help hang the curtains than the landlord?” You joke, laughing at your own comment. “He can’t get mad about the hooks if he decides where they go!”

Frankie chuckles, nodding in agreement, and Steven looks annoyed but resigned as he stands up to brush off his jeans. “I, uh, I guess I will head out.” Steven announces, making his way towards you. “I’ll see you soon.” He says, hugging you, and Frankie clenches his fist, trying to not react too much. 

“See you soon.” You promise, rubbing his back. Frankie watches you say goodbye and he crosses his arms after setting down his beer.

“Well that means more pizza for you and me.” You tell Frankie as you look around the boxes and sigh, trying to decide where to start. “Getting the curtains up and my bed made is top priority.” You decide. “Don’t want to give the neighbors a free show tonight when I shower.” You joke with a groan. You have a few hours before you have to return the moving truck, so you might as well use the help while he is here. 

Frankie swallows harshly at the thought of you in the shower, his cock twitching but he ignores it and offers you a chuckle. Steven bids you goodbye and leaves reluctantly, glancing back at Frankie before he goes. “Right. You mentioned pizza?” Frankie rubs his hands together, excited to just spend some time with you.

“Yes! It should be here soon.” You frown at your phone, noticing that there are no bars inside. There had been plenty of signal before and you wonder if something is going on with the cell towers. “That’s odd.” You huff and shove your phone back in your pocket. “My phone says I have no signal.”

Frankie frowns, “that’s weird. I have full signal. Maybe it’s just a fluke.” He guesses, trying to act like it’s unusual. When you shrug, he knows you think it’s weird but don’t question it. The doorbell rings thank God and he makes his way to the door while you find your bedsheets, and he pays for the pizza. Knowing you’ll be mad but you can consider it a housewarming present.

Huffing at the fact that you were supposed to treat him with pizza, you offer him a plate. “Thank you.” You murmur softly. “I can give you some cash.” You will feel horrible if you didn’t at least offer to pay him for the pizza. Even if you have the feeling that he will wave it off. 

“Don’t be silly. Consider it a house warming present.” He shakes his head at you and opens the box. You go to protest but he offers you a look that makes you close your mouth and grab your own slice of pizza. “You can make it up to me another time.” He winks, hoping you don’t find him creepy and know he means coffee or just your company.

You moan softly when you take a bite of your pizza. It was a local place you haven’t tried before. It had just been the closest that had popped up when you looked for pizza places. “Oh my god, I’m going to love living here.” You groan as you savor the cheesy, saucy flavors bursting on your tongue. 

Frankie’s cock twitches again at your groan and he picks up his own slice of pizza. He knows the place you order from and it’s his favorite so he groans when he takes a bite. “Fuck. Always so good.” He grunts, closing his eyes for a moment before he reaches for his beer. “So…you from here or move here from another state?” He asks.

You swallow the bite and give a small shrug. “I’ve lived here since college but I liked it so I decided to stay.” You offer with a curious look at him. “What about you?”

Frankie smiles, “I moved here a few years ago. I, uh, had a rough time when I got out of the service and finally decided I needed a new start so I bought this place. It was a shithole when I got it and I’ve built it up into what it is now and I’m proud of it. Decided to rent out the top floor to give me some income and nowadays I just fly when I want to.” 

You frown, “fly?” 

Frankie nods, “yeah I fly helicopters. Used to when I was in Delta.”

“Wow.” You’re impressed and immediately comforted by the fact that he was in the service. You wouldn’t have to worry about weirdos or someone messing with the house. “That’s amazing. I bet you looked great in uniform.” You bite your lip and look away when you realize you had said that. “I mean- uh, guys in uniform are always attractive, right?”

He smirks, pleased that you said that. “My friend Benny was the one the girls went mad for. My best friend Pope was the one who flirted up a storm. I’ve always been in the shadows. Never really found the right girl, ya know?” He says with a shrug, taking another bite.

“I see.” You are surprised that someone hasn’t snatched him up but think that maybe he’s picky. “Well I guess that’s lucky for me right?” You ask, grinning at him. “I can’t see a wife wanting to split up this gorgeous house into apartments and I love my place.”

“Lucky you.” Frankie grabs his beer and tilts it towards you. You are perfect. Everything he’s been looking for and he’s not gonna fuck this up. After you finish eating, you clean up and he makes quick work of putting your curtains up while you make your bed. He’s reluctant to go but he has to. It’s too soon to overstay his welcome. “I’ll let you settle in then. Uh, if you need anything just let me know.” He offers, wiping his hands on his jeans.

“Thank you so much, Frankie.” If you knew him better, you would give him a hug. Instead you offer him a smile. “I’m going to return the truck and then probably shower and get some sleep.” You tell him. “So I shouldn’t be banging around unpacking tonight.”

“It’s okay. I don’t sleep that well anyway.” He admits, his fingers twitching as he resists the urge to hug you. He wants to touch you but he doesn’t, knowing it will make things awkward. He has to be patient. “If you need anything, just call or text me. Have a good night. Welcome home.” He offers you a soft smile and makes his way towards the door.

When Frankie leaves, you close the door behind him and sigh softly as you lean against it. Looking around the apartment for a moment, you are eager to get settled in and set up a routine in your new space. It’s been a long time since you’ve been this excited about starting over and yet, you are smiling to yourself. You just know that it’s going to be perfect living here. ****

“Shit! Shit!” You shriek, jumping out of the shower in shock as the warm water suddenly turns ice cold. Nearly slipping on the tile floor, you fumble for the towel to wrap around your body and start to twist the knobs, and huff a curse when you don’t feel any change in the temperature of the water. “Damnit.” You huff, turning off the water and reaching for your phone. It’s been a week since you moved in and you finally finished unpacking two days ago. Frowning when you see the ‘no signal’ on your phone again, you are annoyed. It seems like cell service comes and goes and you’ve called the service provider with nothing coming of it. You will just have to go down to Frankie’s to talk to him about the hot water not working. 

Frankie hears the knock on his door, he already knows it’s you. When he opens the door and sees you in nothing but a towel, his cock twitches. “Everything okay?” He frowns and you shake your head. 

“No. The water isn’t working. It’s freezing cold.” 

Frankie frowns, “oh God. Shit, I’m so sorry. I will fix it today. Do you want to use my shower? Finish up?” He offers.

You nod, grateful to finish up and not be covered in soap and shampoo. “I would appreciate it.” You gush as he opens the door wider and lets you into his apartment. It’s clean, a little sparse, but he is a bachelor. You hum in slight embarrassment as he leads you through to the bathroom. “Go right on in and finish up.” He tells you. 

“Thank you so much, I’m sorry to already be bothering you.” You huff, embarrassed that your landlord and neighbor is already seeing you in your towel. 

Frankie watches you go, his eyes trailing down your body for a moment, until he seeks out his toolbox. He sets it on the counter and waits until you come back out. “You can borrow one of my shirts if you want to go back to your place. I will check the water as soon as possible. Do you- are you going out this afternoon? I can go in then so I don’t disturb you.”

“Yeah I have some errands to run.” You smile at him gratefully. “I appreciate it. I’ll get dressed and get out of your hair. Hopefully it won’t be too hard to fix.” It’s a relief to have a landlord who doesn’t drag his feet or try to stall to fix things. At your old place you might not have had water for a week while waiting on a call.

Frankie grabs one of his shirts for you to wear, handing it to you before you step into his bathroom. He’s excited to see you in his shirt, his cock twitching again, and he is excited to enter your place. He wants to learn everything about you. All the little details.

You appreciate his thoughtfulness and are quickly back out, wearing his shirt and thankful that what he had chosen was obviously longer than most and covers you. It’s skimpier than what you would ever wear around your landlord or maintenance man, but it was better than just a towel. “Thank you so much. I’ll go get dressed really quickly and pop out so you can work in peace.”

Frankie is half hard seeing you in his shirt and he nods, unable to really speak as you make your way back to your place. He gathers what he needs and puts it in his toolbox, carrying it upstairs just as you are about to leave. “I’ll keep you posted on when it’s all good to go.” He offers, admiring your perfume when you come closer.

“Thanks again.” You smile at him, taking your keys out of your purse and deciding that you are going to get him something while you are out. Maybe a cupcake or some cookies to show your appreciation. Maybe just the supplies so you can bake him some. People always seemed to love homemade cookies and for the price of fixing your hot water, it was worth it. “I’ll see you later then.” You call as you make your way down the stairs and out the door. 

Frankie enters the apartment, shutting the door behind him, and he opens his toolbox after setting it on the counter. He grabs what he needs and goes to the bathroom. The water is working, he doesn’t have to do anything to fix it except turn the knob so the hot water is flowing into your apartment. No, he’s not here to fix the hot water. He carefully undoes the shower head, grabbing the miniature camera from his pocket and he starts to secure it in place. After it’s secure, he grabs his phone, checking to see if the video is working. He smiles when he sees it working and quickly replaces everything. 

He makes quick work of it all but once he’s done, he can’t stop himself from going into your bedroom. It’s basic but neat and he opens the closet, grabbing your shirts to sniff them. They smell like your perfume. He opens the dresser and groans when he sees the panties. He can’t resist. Picking up a pair of pink silk ones and he brings them to his face, smelling them and savoring the material. He shoves them in his pocket, closing the drawer and making his way back into the kitchen to get his things together. He’s done what he needed to do. He leaves after a quick glance around and turns the hot water on as he goes, satisfied that today was a success. A step closer to making you his.

Hours later, you pull back up to the house. You had received a text from Frankie telling you that he’s fixed the water and you are impressed with how handy he is. Pulling bags out from your trunk, you quickly go inside and upstairs to start making him a thank you gift. You have a feeling that he will like the chocolate chunk peanut butter cookies. Giggling happily when you check the hot water in the kitchen and find it perfect before you start setting out the ingredients and pulling your mixer out. 

Frankie can hear you’re home. Light footsteps upstairs that don’t bother him. In fact, he likes it because he knows you’re there. He has your panties in his hand, his cock is hard, and he can’t hold back anymore. Taking his length out of his pants, he wraps the silk around his wrist before he grips his cock, starting a slow movement of his wrist. He imagines you touching him like this, cooing his name and looking at him like he has hung the moon. Your pretty face so close to where he needs you. Fuck, you’d look so dirty taking his cock down your throat, tears in your eyes.

You hum to yourself as you cream butter and sugar together. Smiling to yourself as you work and you turn on music from your phone. Another call to your service provider was in order and you were starting to think that there are just dead spots. Maybe an older home has something in the walls to block cellular service. Maybe you would have to get a landline, as archaic as it seems. That way you could have some reliable service. 

“Fuck. Fuck.” Frankie hisses, jerking himself a little faster. The silk rubs his cock just right and he imagines you telling him you love him as you sink down onto his cock. He wants you, fuck he wants you. For more than sex. You’d be the perfect partner. Sweet and kind. Funny and smart. Beautiful. Everything he’s been looking for.

“Whoooooahhhhh we’re halfway therrrrree! Whoooahhhh!  Living on a prayeeeerrrr.” You sing along with the song playing and dance around in your kitchen as  you start to spoon the dough up onto the baking sheets. The first batch of cookies are already in the oven and you feel like this is going to become a regular thing for you. It’s homey and fun. “Take my hand, we’ll make it I sweeaarrrr.” You bite your lip as you giggle to yourself, wondering what your neighbor thinks about you dancing and singing upstairs. Probably thinks you're crazy, but you love music that makes you feel good. 

Frankie hears the music and you singing, fuelling his fantasy of having a life with you, and he jerks his cock harder. “Fuck. Oh fuck.” He growls, hips thrusting up to meet his hand. The silk is damp with his pre-cum and he imagines you begging him to cum. “Shittt.” He yells when he cums, spurts hitting his chest and dripping onto his hand.

You stop singing, thinking that you heard Frankie yelling at you to turn it down and you lower the volume of the music for a moment but you don’t hear anything else. Dismissing it as just hearing things, you finish loading the baking tray with cookies just as the timer goes off for the ones in the oven. Humming happily as you rush to pull out the cookies to cool and then add the new tray, you groan to yourself at the smell. He’s going to love these. 

Frankie pants, head tilted back towards the ceiling as his eyes remain closed. God, he hasn't cum that hard in a while. Your panties are ruined and he uses them to clean himself up, admiring the silk, and he knows he's gonna have to steal another pair for next time he jerks off. He just needs to find a way back into your apartment.

Plate of cookies in hand, you skitter down the stairs easily and jauntily knock on Frankie’s door. They are cool enough to plate up but still warm enough to enjoy, the ones on top are just ten minutes off the cooling rack and you are proud of how they turned out. Wanting to show him that you appreciated the quickness of his repairs. Frankie opens the door and you smile at him, watching his face turn from frowning in question to lighting up at seeing you. “Hey- I made you some cookies.” you offer, holding out the plate. “To say thank you for fixing the water problem.” 

Frankie is surprised but swears you just made him fall even harder for you. "Thank you. I, uh, you didn't have to do that." He blushes slightly, thinking about your panties wrapped around his fist and he wonders what you'd think. Would you be turned on? Or disgusted? He hopes the former. "I am the landlord and I gotta make sure the place is good enough to live in."

“Can all landlords be like you?” You joke, shaking your head. “It would be a lot cooler if they were.” You shrug and give him a grin. “I can now soak in a bath tonight.” You don’t want to keep him long but you have to ask him a question. “I do have a favor to ask though.” 

Frankie nods, taking the cookies from your hands. “Go on. I’m a pretty accommodating landlord depending on what you need.” He winks, deciding to be cheeky for a moment.

You give him a little giggle, enjoying the casual flirtation with the handsome man. “Very good distinction.” You tell him loftily. “Otherwise, you might find yourself tied to some renter’s bed.” You are completely joking but it is an interesting idea, seeing what he is like in bed. 

Frankie wouldn't mind being tied up while you have your wicked way with him. The thought makes him shift from one foot to the other as his cock twitches. "The favor?" He asks after clearing his throat. 

"Yeah. Would you mind meeting the cable company tomorrow and let them in so they can put my landline in? They will be here between 10 and 2 and I am out tomorrow all day." You tell him. 

Frankie internally cheers at the opportunity to spend another moment in your place. "Of course. I can do that."

“Thank you.” You breathe out a sigh of relief. It had been the only day that you could schedule until you wanted to wait two weeks, and you didn’t want to do that. “I will make sure that they know that you will be there. I just don’t get why my phone doesn’t want to work, but having a landline will at least allow me to order pizza again.” You give him a bright smile. “Just let yourself in and there are drinks in the fridge if you get thirsty.” 

Frankie nods, "thanks." He could almost punch the air at his luck. Being able to be there when the landline is installed. He looks down at the cookies, "You wanna come in and have one of these with me? I just got some milk yesterday." He offers, not wanting you to leave just yet.

“Sure!” You quickly agree, wanting to spend a little more time with Frankie, he’s nice and it is very easy to talk to him. Frankie opens the door wider and steps back to allow you to come in. “So what was the problem with the water?” You ask, not really knowing anything about it, but wanting to hear about his handyman skills.

“Oh. Just the connection was loose. Must’ve been the older pipes. I might get the house replumbed soon.” He says, gesturing for you to sit down at the counter while he gets the glasses and milk.

“Oh, yeah, I can imagine they are older.” You hadn’t really thought about all the upgrades and repairs an older house might need. “The things you’ve done with this place are great. Did you turn it into apartments yourself?”

“Yeah.” He flushes, rubbing the back of his neck after he pours you a glass of milk. “After the service, I had a lot of free time so I bought this place for cheap and decided to - well, it was supposed to be for a family but that never happened for me so I decided to convert it into two places and rent one out for income.”

“That’s impressive!” You praise. “Especially because you kept the charm of the house. Most people just strip it of all character in favor of modern updates.” You shake your head. “But you managed to give modern amenities and make me wish that the old oil lamps were in use.”

He chuckles, “I fell for this place because of the charm. I didn’t want to destroy that. I just didn’t get around to updating everything. Like the locks. I want to add technology and update the plumbing and electrical. I will once I have some savings.”

“I fell in love with the door knobs.” You confess. “Obviously the front door needs the more secure locks, but the keyholes and having skeleton keys?” You grin and take one of the cookies to dunk it in the milk. “I just want to put on a hoop skirt and carry a large key ring around.”

Frankie grins, “we will have to see about getting that for you.” He grabs a cookie, dipping it in the milk before he takes a bite. A loud groan escapes his lips as he tastes the sweet treat you made for him. “Fuck, that’s good.” He moans, looking at the cookie on his hand.

“I’m glad you like them.” You look away, shy at the way he had groaned. It was really sexy. “I love to bake.” 

“I bet. Fuck, you bake and yet you’re somehow single? Something is wrong with the world.” He shakes his head, sipping his milk after taking a bite. “If you were mine, I’d never let you go.” He jokes, hoping you see it as banter.

You snort and throw him a grin. “So you’re one of those ‘win ‘em over with their stomach’ kind of guys?” You ask, slightly flustered at his comment. It’s been awhile since someone complimented you like this, beyond Steve, but he was just a friend.

Frankie blushes a little. “I guess so. I just - when I was in Bagram, the food was so shit I just - I missed my home comforts, ya know? I wanted to just indulge a bit. I’m not as fit as I used to be but I try to go running every day or so to keep myself in shape…kind of.” He jokes, rubbing his lower stomach.

“Please.” You huff and roll your eyes. “You look great.” You nudge the cookie plate towards him. “Believe me, there’s nothing wrong with you the way you are right now.” You understand wanting to eat well and approve of it. “Good food, good alcohol and good sex is the dream, right?” 

Looking back on it, Frankie is certain this is the moment he falls in love with you. You are everything he’s been waiting for. “I don’t know about the good sex part. It’s been a while.” He snorts, leaning against the counter as he tries to play it cool but fails, leaning closer to you.

You don’t believe that for a second. “Oh okay, play modest.” You joke, rolling your eyes at him. “I’m sure you are turning down offers. I don’t believe for a second you aren’t getting eyed up like a snack.” You know that you’ve done your fair share of looking since moving in. Two days ago you had damn near licked the window when he was mowing the yard. 

Frankie stares at you, “I don’t - I haven’t been on a date for like, a year or two. I’ve lost track. I don’t - no one has caught my eye.” He wants to add “until now” but doesn’t, not wanting to scare you off too soon. “Besides, why are you single?” He snorts, “surely you got guys tripping over themselves to be with you.”

You bark out a small, sarcastic laugh. “Yeah right.” You huff. “It’s more like they want to have a quick or easy roll in the sack and then decide to ghost.” You had shit luck in the dating world and decided to take a break. “I fucking hate dating aps and that seems like what everyone wants to do.” 

“Me too. I fucking hate using my phone for anything other than calls. Social media is a no for me. Dating apps? That’s a fuck no. Benny tried to set me up on one and I went on a date and the woman didn’t look anything like her photo.” He shakes his head.

“Ugh, that’s the worst.” You commiserate. “I just - I decided I wasn’t going to bother. I would either meet someone in a grocery store or whatever or I would become the spinster with twenty cats.” You joke with a laugh. 

“Cats aren’t in your lease.” Frankie jokes, liking this easy back and forth between you and he knows you are perfect. You are looking for someone too and he hopes he can prove he’s the man for you. He can’t rush this though. “Do you maybe, uh, wanna watch a movie with me tonight? I can - I can order take out. It’s just - I haven’t had company for a while and I like talking to you.”

You bite your lip, feeling a little flustered at the idea that he would want to spend more time with you. “That sounds good.” You agree with a quick nod. “I’ll- do you mind if I run upstairs and throw on some comfy clothes?” You ask with a grin. “It’s always better when you’re comfy.” 

“Of course.” Frankie nods, “what kind of take out do you want?” He asks before you go. He wants to please you, wants you to stay here. He wants you to love him. “I’m pretty open to anything.” He tells you, “I’ll eat whatever I can get.”

You smirk and decide that you are going to test him. “How do you feel about Indian food?” You ask, thinking about butter chicken and rice with some garlicky naan. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had some and it sounds amazing.” 

“Oh yes. I love Indian food. My friend Will made me try it a few years ago and I love it. What do you want, sweetheart?” He asks, the nickname slipping from his lips before he can stop it.

Surprised by his answer, you smile. “I was thinking some butter chicken and naan, ohhhh and some samosas?” You ask, nearly drooling at the idea. “What do you normally eat?” 

Frankie smiles, “I like the same thing. I’ll order it. There’s a place near here that does the best butter chicken you’ll ever eat.” He tells you, grabbing his phone. “Go change and I’ll get everything ready.” He orders, swearing that you are his soulmate. The woman he’s been waiting for.

You jump up from the chair and nod. “I’ll be right back.” You promise and rush upstairs to change. Excited and slightly nervous about it. It kind of feels like a date and you get butterflies. “Should I wear some sexy lingerie underneath comfy clothes?” You ask yourself as you look in your drawers, frowning when you don’t find your pink panties. You love those.

Frankie hears you walking around upstairs after he orders the food and he opens the new app on his phone. Smiling when he sees you walking around your bedroom. When you walk into a different area to change, you disappear off of the camera which makes Frankie huff. He won’t be able to see you undress and he so desperately wants to know if you’re as sexy as you seem. He knows you are but he wants to see you, maybe screenshot so he has something to jerk off to later. “I gotta get back in there.” He mutters, closing the app.

You change clothes and come back downstairs, deciding to bring the rest of the beer you had bought when you had moved. “Knock, knock.” You call out, not opening the door. Even though you’ve been invited to stay, you don’t know if he’s changing or something.

“Come in.” Frankie calls out, the TV already turned on and he has his blankets and the plates are out ready for the takeout. He is excited you’re here but he’s a little peeved still about the camera.  He narrows his eyes a little when he looks at you when you enter before he smiles. “Uh, nice shirt.” He points at your worn out “Army” shirt that looks way too big for you. 

“Thanks.” You brush the shirt down and give him a small smirk. “It was my last ‘real’ boyfriend’s. I stole it from him because it was comfortable.”

To say Frankie is jealous is an understatement. He knows you’ve had relationships but to see you wearing another man’s shirt…it ignites a rage inside of him. He tries to smother it, humming and offering you a smile, but his jaw is clenched. “I ordered the food.” He declares, trying to control himself from just ripping that fucking shirt off of you.

Wondering if you’ve said something wrong, you try to brush it off and sit down on the couch. “Thanks, although one time you should let me pay.” You hadn’t forgotten that he paid for the pizza when you moved in. Frankie scoffs but doesn’t argue and you try to get back to that easy flow you had before. “Have you picked out a movie?”

“No. Your choice, sweetheart.” He tells you, handing you the remote and he leans back against the sofa, unclenching his fists. He is already thinking of how he can get rid of that t-shirt. He smirks when he imagines tossing it on the floor and taking your tits in his hands.

You search through the movies that are available and decide on one that looks like it might appeal to a man who was in the military. “Oh this looks promising.” You look over at him to see what he thinks. “What do you think?” You don’t want him to be bored.

Frankie would honestly watch anything if it means getting to spend more time with you. He nods, “looks good,” and settles back into the sofa. He hopes you want to cuddle but he won’t push anything just in case you aren’t ready for that yet. The movie starts and Frankie watches you from the corner of his eyes, admiring you even in your comfy clothes…that fucking shirt.

You start out leaning against a pillow on the opposite side of the couch, then moving it between the two of you so you can lean the other way. Damn if your back isn’t being ridiculous and you edge a little closer to Frankie as you try to spread out slightly. “Sorry.” You huff, knowing he has to notice. “My back has been kind of weird since moving and I can’t get comfortable.” You admit.

“You’re fine. Sit however you want, sweetheart.” Frankie tells you, his entire body vibrating with the need to have you touching him, even if it’s just you leaning against him. “Lean against me if you want.” He adds, his fingers twitching against the sofa.

You try not to, at least for a few minutes and then you give up. He had offered, so as the movie plays, you crawl closer to him and turn so you are leaning against his side, sighing in relief when the pressure relaxes.

Frankie feels like this entire body is on fire and he can’t resist wrapping his arm around you. “This okay?” He asks. You nod and he smiles, rubbing your arm before you both relax into the sofa. He loves it, how you feel against him. It’s like you are meant to be here.

The movie isn’t great but Frankie makes you laugh by pointing out all the military inaccuracies. You’re slightly disappointed when the doorbell rings and the food is delivered, having to move away from him and soon the two of you are eating side by side on the couch.

“Damn this is good.” You moan, pointing your fork towards the plate. Frankie nods, tearing off a piece of naan. “Right? It’s really good.” He hums, happy you like the place he picked. He could do so much for you if he only got the chance.

“You will have to show me all the best places to eat and drink.” You shove another savory bite of the chicken in your mouth and moan happily, reaching for your drink to wash it down with. “I don’t really go out a lot, but I don’t want to bother with shitty bars if I can help it.”

Frankie nods, “we can make a list and go through it together. I don’t really go out much myself. It’s…sometimes it’s too crowded and I don’t like it.” He admits, setting his fork down. “I don’t do well in crowds.”

“Oh.” You immediately shake your head. “No, we don’t- I’m sorry I didn’t even think about something like that.” You give a small laugh. “I’m an idiot. Never really knew a lot of people in the military.” You explain.

Frankie shakes his head, “it's okay. You didn’t - it’s not something I talk about a lot.” He admits, picking his fork up again. “I’d like to hang out though. I know a few cool bars that serve these local beers.” He tells you.

“Wherever you feel comfortable.” You assure him. It’s not like you have a lot of experience with the bars in the area so it’s not a big deal. Having someone who most likely has some issues from their life be comfortable is more important. Besides, you would like to spend time with him outside the house.

Frankie reaches for your hand, giving it a squeeze. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He smiles, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss the back of it. He can’t help himself and he hopes you think this is a friendly gesture and you’re not creeped out by him.

You fluster slightly, unused to having a man show those kinds of manners. “I- you’re welcome.” You manage after clearing your throat and for a moment, you think that Frankie wants to lean in and kiss you. Which is ridiculous, so you turn back to the movie. “So, do you keep in touch with your military buddies?” You ask.

Frankie chuckles, “I can’t get rid of them. No matter how hard I try. My captain, Tom, he’s a few blocks away. Will and Benny are across town and Santi, my best friend, just moved back from Australia. So yeah, we are all still close.” He smiles, reluctantly letting go of your hand so he can continue eating.

You two quickly finish up dinner and lean back against the couch again. This time it wasn’t as awkward as before and you found your head laying on his shoulder as the movie hit the climax. Yawning, you try not to close your eyes, but the combination of a full stomach and relaxed atmosphere has you slipping off to sleep against your landlord.

Frankie’s heart is going a mile a minute when you lean against him. He swears he could die there and then and he’s happy. You trust him enough to fall asleep against him and he daren’t move in case he wakes you up. “You’re gonna be mine, you know? I'm gonna make you so happy and you are going to love me and want me. I’ll make sure it happens.”

You don’t know how long you sleep but you wake up and realize that the tv is on something else and you are still laying against Frankie. “Oh my god.” You sit up and cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

Frankie shakes his head, “it’s okay. Don’t even worry about it. It’s okay.” He promises, missing the warmth of your body against him. He wants to pull you back in and hold you but he doesn’t.

“Talk about being comfortable.” You joke, shaking your head at yourself and standing up so you can stretch and help him clean up. 

“Don’t worry about that.” Frankie insists but you just tut. 

“You fed me dinner, and let me sleep on you.” You huff. “The least I can do is help clean up. Please?”

“Don’t be silly. Go to bed. I can handle it.” He insists, guiding you towards the front door after he stands up. He places his hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the door. “Go to bed, sweetheart.”

“Okay.” You give him a small pout, but you are too tired to throw up too much of an argument. “G’night, Frankie.” You murmur before he opens the door and lets you out. “Thanks for being there for the cable guy tomorrow.”

****

When the cable guy leaves, Frankie grabs the toolbox he hid under the sink. Making quick work of installing the jammer on the line so he can control it. He also installs the additional cameras he needs. When he sees the army shirt from your ex in your laundry basket, he grabs it. Shoving it into his toolbox so he can shred it later. He won’t allow you to have clothes from another man. Finally, he can’t help himself. He opens your underwear drawer, grabbing a pair of lace black panties. Imagining you wearing them already has his cock hardening and he can’t wait to get back downstairs so he can jerk off. Grabbing his tool box, he locks your door and goes home to get off with your underwear.

You pull back up to the house and sigh. It’s been a long day and you can’t wait to soak in a bath and relax. You think about knocking on Frankie’s door, but decide against it, trudging upstairs and letting yourself into the apartment.

Frankie groans, his wrist twisting as he jerks his cock, the lace is rough but he fucking loves it. He imagines you wearing those panties, rubbing yourself on him and begging him to fuck you. He hears your car pull in and he imagines you just walking in, kneeling down and taking his cock into your mouth.

You groan after you drop your keys into a bowl near the door and kick off your shoes. The phone is plugged in and you smile when you pick it up to press talk to hear the dial tone. Your wifi should be working too so at least you can play on your phone. You hum to yourself as you walk into the bathroom and start the water. You want to soak in a bath and maybe masturbate.

“Fuck. Oh fuckkkkk.” Frankie groans, cum spurting on him as his mind goes blank to everything but you. Imagining you swallowing every fucking drop and loving it. His eyes are closed as he revels in the climax, your panties ruined but he loves it.

You take your time and pour yourself a glass of wine before you start stripping down. Throwing some bath salts in to dissolve and you stick your toe in to test it, groaning when the water is the perfect temperature. “God that is going to be so nice.”

Frankie cleans himself up, throwing away the ruined panties and he slumps down on the sofa. He wants you, he wants to go and see you but he can’t. He pulls out his phone, opening the app and he groans when he sees you in the bath. “Fuck sweetheart. You’re so pretty.” He coos, holding the phone to watch you.

You sigh to yourself, closing your eyes and leaning back in the tub. The wine is at your fingertips and you let your muscles soak. Relaxing in the moment and wishing there was someone to give you a massage. Instead of worrying about your lack of partner, you sit up slightly and reach for your phone, wanting to turn on some porn so you can get in the mood.

Frankie is glad he installed audio, listening to the moans start as you clearly put porn on your phone. “Fuck. You dirty girl.” He mutters to himself with a smirk, spent cock twitching at the idea of you touching yourself.

Something feels wrong, just for a split second you feel as if someone is watching you. Making you glance over the edge of the tub, looking around the bathroom and leaning forward to look out the door into the living room. Shrugging it off and leaning back as you watch the man start eating the woman’s pussy like he was starving. “Fuck, I need that to happen to me.” You moan as one hand slips beneath the water to start rubbing your clit.

Frankie wishes you didn’t have any bubbles in the bath so he can see everything going on but your breathy moans are enough for him to get hard again. His grip on the phone tightening slightly and he wishes you’d let him lick your pussy. “Fuck. I bet it’s so pretty.” He murmurs to himself.

You watch the screen of your phone for a moment, wishing that it was you that was getting licked and sucked on. “Fuck.” You feel your cunt bottom out when you rub your clit just right. “I need to get laid.” You moan to yourself. “Just have someone fuck me stupid.”

Your words make Frankie pull his cock out of his pants, hard once more and he groans when he wraps his fingers around his cock. He hisses and forces himself to watch you, forcing himself to not just go upstairs and rub your clit for you.

You reach up to cup your tit, pinching your nipple until you moan and the water sloshes as your hips jerk. “Oh fuck.” It’s wrong, but you imagine your landlord. Imagine Frankie fucking you. Sucking on your tits and licking your pussy until you cum. He looks like a man who doesn’t mind going down on a woman.

You’re so fucking beautiful and sexy. Your moans make his cock twitch and he slowly jerks himself off, wanting to watch you cum first. “Fuck. I want you.” He groans, twisting his wrist as he watches you.

Your breathing picks up as you masturbate, closing your eyes and not even paying attention to the porn anymore. Too busy imagining what would have happened if Frankie had spread you out on the couch last night and fucked you instead of watching a movie. Your back arches and your head tilts back with a cry as you cum, panting and shuddering your way through your orgasm.

Frankie groans as he cums for the second time that night. Fuck, you’re gorgeous and perfect. He loves everything about you. “Fuck baby. Fuck. Oh shittt.” He hisses through his teeth, unable to believe how gorgeous you are as you cum and it sends him over the edge. Hot cum hitting his chest and stomach while he groans your name.

You slump back down into the tub after you ride out your orgasm, sighing to yourself and pulling your hand out of the water so you can take another sip of your wine. Your orgasm was good, but it could have been so much better if it was from someone else.

****

Frankie sees you pull into the driveway and he waves. It's been a month since you moved in and he has fallen for you. Watching you in your apartment has become his full time job and he has added more cameras during the "odd jobs" you asked him to take care of. He can see every inch of your place and he fucking loves watching you. You are everything he's been waiting for and he wants you. He's gonna make a move soon.

You give Frankie a friendly wave, smiling as you grab your bag from the car and walk about the car to the steps. Frankie is outside working on the lawn mower and it’s kind of sexy to see a man fixing something. You’ve had some moments of weirdness in your apartment and for some damn reason, your underwear keeps disappearing, but you love living here. “Hey Frankie.” You walk up and watch what he’s doing. “Whatcha doin’ tonight?”

Frankie wipes his brow after taking his cap off. It's hot outside and he has his shirt off while he mows the lawn.  "Nothing. What's up?" He asks. Fuck, you look beautiful. He likes the way you've done your hair today.

You hitch your bag higher on your shoulder and try not to stare. Frankie claims that he’s not in shape, but you love the look of him. He’s not sporting more than a small little pouch that shows his love of good food and you think it’s sexy. Never caring for those guys who spend half their life in a gym. “I was thinking that since it’s Friday…” you are a little nervous about asking. “How about you show me that bar you were telling me about? With the local beers?”

Frankie grins, wiping his brow once again. You want to go out with him. This is progress. “Sounds good sweetheart. I gotta finish this up but you wanna meet here at 8? We can get some food at the bar. They have good sliders.” He tells you, trying to act a little cool instead of freaking out that you want to go out with him.

“That sounds good.” You grin back at him and nod. “Yeah, eight.” You repeat and turn around to dash into the house so you can go up to your apartment to get ready. You want to go out and have a good time tonight and you had turned down Steven’s offer of going out to some club. Instead you wanted to try out the bar your handsome landlord mentioned and you only wanted to go with him. Your crush was starting to be painful and you were afraid you were reading things wrong, but you thought he might like you too.

Frankie is nervous, his hands a little sweaty, but he showers and puts a little effort into his outfit. He has a button down shirt on and his nicest jeans but he can’t leave his hat at home. At eight sharp, he heads outside to wait for you. When you come down the stairs, Frankie’s eyes widen. Fuck, you look gorgeous.

"Do I look okay? For that bar you want to go to?" You ask, wondering if you should change.

Frankie shakes his head, “you look beautiful. Trust me, I’ll be the one bringing my bat to beat them off tonight baby.” He winks at you, hoping you don’t see the look in his eye that he properly means that.

You fluster slightly and look away, before you clear your throat. “So do you want to take my car or do you want to drive?” You ask, wondering if he’s the type that likes to drive. You feel like he is. That need for control.

“I’ll drive.” He insists, pulling out his keys for his truck. He walks over to the truck and opens the passenger door, holding his hand out to help you up into the vehicle. You take his hand and his heart sings, loving how you feel and he wishes this was a proper date. He helps you up into the car, your jeans are tight and he loves your ass, admiring it before you sit down and he shuts the door once you’re settled. Rounding the truck, he gets in and starts the engine, backing out of the driveway to make his way to the bar.

“Yeah. I haven’t been out for a while. I’ve been working a lot and I just want to watch tv. It’s nicer when you have someone to watch tv with though.” He sighs, turning onto another street a few blocks from the bar.

“It is.” You can agree with that. “You’ll have to come up and watch House of the Dragon with me.” You offer with a grin. “It’s that new GOT spin-off.”

“Any good? The way Game of Thrones ended scarred me.” He chuckles, turning into the bar parking lot. He kills the engine when he’s parked and he gets out, opening the door for you and holding his hand out to help you out.

“It is good.” You take his hand and your stomach flips at how warm and strong his light hold on you is. “Thank you.” It’s starting to feel like a date even though you had proposed just something casual. Not that you mind at all. “So this is it, huh?” You smile as you look at the very unassuming facade.

Frankie shuts the door and locks his truck. “It’s nicer inside.” He promises, deciding to be bold and take your hand once again, guiding you inside, and the place is busy but not packed, a nice atmosphere. “What ya think?” He asks, biting his lip.

The music isn’t so loud that you can’t hear yourself think and everyone seems to be having a great time. Servers are rushing around with drinks and baskets of food, and conversations are at a low din. “It looks great, I can see why you like the place.” You grin. “You want to sit at a table or the bar?”

"A table would be good." Frankie guides you over to a table that is close but not too close to the crowd. He glances around, finding the exits and mentally remembering them and he sits you down before positioning himself so he has eyes on every corner of the bar. "What do you want to drink sweetheart?" He asks, handing you the menu.

Looking over the menu, you hum at all the local selections. “Oh that looks good.” You point to a fruit ale and then look up at him. “And you can’t come to a bar without bar food, right?”

Frankie chuckles, "the sliders are really good." He nods, looking over the menu despite knowing what he wants to get. The waitress comes over and Frankie orders his beer, a local IPA, and you order the fruit ale. "I'll get those and come back for your food order." She says and walks off. Frankie doesn't watch her ass as she walks away, too focused on you. You look gorgeous tonight.

God, he’s a gentleman. You notice that he’s not looking around at other women and it’s nice to have a man who has manners with you. You aren’t even on a date so he isn’t obligated, but it still makes your cheeks heat up slightly. “So are you a fries or onion rings kind of guy?” You ask, leaning in across the table. You want to learn about him and have a fun night too.

“Depends on the day.” He answers honestly, “fries probably though.” He wants to take your hand, his fingers tapping near yours but he doesn’t, not wanting to scare you off. “Cookies or brownies?” He asks, remembering the dessert options.

You moan quietly. “Both.” You flash a naughty grin. “Have you ever had a brookie?” You ask. “Combination of brownie and cookie, literally an orgasm in your mouth.”

Frankie groans at that, “oh fuck. That sounds amazing. I want one of those.” He nods, “definitely want one of those. They do an amazing brownie sundae here.” He tells you, biting the bullet and taking your hand in his.

You nearly giggle with butterflies and you shift slightly to let your fingers thread between his. “So, are you glad you came out tonight or would you rather be watching tv?”

“Definitely glad I came out.” He smiles, cheeks flushing slightly. It’s been a while since he’s gone on a date and he wants you. God, he wants you. He squeezes your hand, not letting go when the waitress sets the drinks down and he barely manages to look away from you to order. “I, uh, I don’t want - I’m your landlord but I’m - I really like you.” He admits, flustered after the waitress walks away again.

You bite your lip and sigh as you reach over to cover his hand with your other. “I like you too Frankie.” Your heart is pounding and you feel like your cheeks are on fire. “Really like you.” You think back to your bath and then later on when you had used your vibrator thinking about him. “I guess we could call this our first date? If you wanted to?”

Frankie smiles, “I’d like that.” He picks up his drink after gently taking his hand from yours, holding the drink towards you. “To our first date.” He toasts. When you clink your glass against his, he grins and takes a sip.

You’re laughing at a joke that Frankie tells you as the waitress brings your food. Learning that his sense of humor is wicked and slightly dirty delights you. “Oh my god.” You wave your hand in your face to try to keep from crying, you are laughing so hard. “That’s horrible.”

Frankie chuckles, "Benny got smacked by his mom for that, he deserved it. He was being a brat." Frankie snorts and leans back so the waitress can set the food down. "Thank you ma'am." He tells her, reluctantly letting go of your hand. "You're welcome. You two make a cute couple by the way." She smiles and walks off.

You give a small giggle and look at Frankie. “I guess it’s a good thing we decided this was a date.” You joke and look down at the food. “This looks and smells amazing.” You groan and smirk at him before you pick up a fry out of your basket and offer it to him.

He takes the fry, unable to wipe the smile off of his face. He swears he hasn't been this happy in...in forever. While he chews, he watches you pick up the slider and he enjoys watching you take a bite and fucking loves the moan that escapes your lips after. "Goddamn." He murmurs, reaching down to adjust himself.

“God,” you swallow the bite and roll your eyes over at him, practically mooning over the slider. “This is exactly what I needed.” You gush. “Good food, beer and a hot guy.” You love tonight so much more since you had plans for another bath if he turned you down.

He blushes at being called hot. He is glad you are attracted to him because he wants you. He needs you. God, he needs you. “Glad you like the food.” He winks playfully, wanting this night to end with a kiss. Maybe more but he wouldn’t push. You have to want him too.

“Oh come on.” You huff and snatch a fry up to point at him. “You know you’re hot. Doing yard work without your shirt on is peak male hotness.”

Frankie snorts, “it’s fucking hot outside and the damn grass goes everywhere so it’s easier to not wear a shirt. I got this from too many beers.” He reaches down to slap his lower stomach. “I’m glad you think I’m hot though because you are - you are the sexiest woman I’ve ever known.”

You scoff, even though you are loving the compliment. “Then you haven’t known many women.” You joke. “I had an ex tell me I was sex with the lights off.” That had stung but he was a prick so you try not to let it get to you too bad most days.

Frankie’s jaw clenches and he is glad he doesn’t know who that guy is because he would kill him. “That guy was clearly blind. What an asshole. I’d beat him up for you.” Frankie says seriously.

Your eyes widen slightly but you don’t take him seriously. “Thanks, but he’s not worth it.” You give a small shrug. “He’s an asshole who wasn’t worth my time.” You repeat your mantra. “So….when was your last relationship?”

Frankie sighs, “it was a while ago. She, uh, she got pregnant and then told me it wasn’t mine. She cheated on me and I was deployed so it couldn’t have been mine. Obviously we broke up but I- it did a number on me for sure.” He admits.

“Shit.” You hiss, hating that you brought up an obvious bad memory for him. “I’m so sorry. What a bitch.” You shake your head, wondering why someone would cheat and then try to pass the baby off as someone else’s. You reach out and take his hand again. “I’ll kick her ass for you.” Playfully offering the same kind of treatment he had offered you.

Frankie chuckles, shaking his head. “I appreciate the offer but honestly? She did me a favor. I didn’t realize that I was unhappy and when I was alone, I felt like a weight had been lifted off of me. It - it was for the best.” He shrugs, wanting to change the subject.

You take another bite of your slider and consider another question to ask, enjoying learning about him. “What’s your dream vacation?”

Frankie grins, “I’ve been to the desert too many times to count. I want to go to the mountains. And a beach. I want to go to Hawaii.” He smiles, “just relax and chill out.”

“Hmmm laying on the beach drinking frozen alcoholic beverages and snorkeling sounds perfect.” You sigh, completely agreeing. “I went on a cruise about five years ago and it was really nice.”

“Yeah? Maybe one day we can go.” Frankie offers, wanting you to know that this is more than one date to him. He wants to be with you and he wants to have you. Wants you to be his. You fluster and he adores it, picking up his drink to take a gulp.

“That would be fun!” You finally manage, grinning at the idea of him Frankie in a Hawaiian shirt. You pick up the beer and take a sip of your own, humming happily at the fruity tartness of it.

Frankie insists upon paying for the bill after you share a brownie sundae. “It’s our first date. I’m paying.” He orders, playfully slapping your hand away from the folding booklet.

You huff, grinning and watch as he pays. “Well, I guess that means I owe you a kiss.” You murmur playfully, knowing he won’t expect that of you. You want to kiss him.

“Now that I can agree to.” He grins, standing up and taking your hand to guide you through the bar. He wants to take you home and when you’re out in the parking lot, he guides you to his truck. He gently pushes you back against his truck. “I want that kiss now.” He smiles and leans down, cupping your cheek to kiss you softly.

You sigh and don’t hesitate to wrap your hands around his back and pull him closer. Opening up and moaning slightly when your tongue meets his as he deepens the kiss and presses into you more. You don’t think about anything but Frankie, completely unaware of everything but him.

He is going crazy. He’s addicted already. The way you taste and the way you feel against him has his heart thumping and he’s certain that this is where he was always meant to be. He kisses you a few moments more before he kisses your neck, catching his breath. “Fuck baby. You’re so perfect.”

Panting, you give a small giggle. “I don’t normally do this, but do you want to come back to my place?” You ask, smiling at the idea of your landlord being in your apartment for reasons other than fixing things. “I think you need to check my smoke alarm…. in the morning.”

Frankie is so pleased and he nods, offering you a smirk. “Yes baby. Come on, let’s go.” He pulls you aside so he can open the door, helping you inside and he smacks your ass.

You yelp and giggle as he shoots you a grin. Watching him round the hood of the truck and climb in beside you. “Someone’s eager to go home.” You tease, throwing him a wink. “I wonder why that is.”

He chuckles when he gets in, “baby I’ve wanted you since you moved in.” He confesses, starting the engine before he backs out of the parking space. “Plus I think you’re eager too.”

“Fuck yes I am.” You admit shamelessly. “You look like a man who knows how to make a woman cum.” Your thighs squeeze together in anticipation and you can feel yourself starting to get wet.

He chuckles, “I’ll make sure you cum. I promise you you will scream my name.” He assures you, driving back towards the house with a little more speed than before. “Tell me what you want? What have you imagined when you’ve rubbed that pretty little clit?”

Your brow ticks for a split second, the question of how he knows what your clit looks like fluttering through your mind before you dismiss it. He is just talking sexy - not implying that he’s seen you. “Fuck, I’ve imagined a lot.” You bite your lip and rub your hands on your thighs. “Wondering what your beard would feel like on my thighs and how my legs would look around your shoulders.”

“We can make it all happen.” He promises, his cock throbbing in his pants, and he is eager to get back and get you naked. A bonus if he fucks you in your place is he can access the footage. Have his own personal porno. He groans at the thought, glancing over at you. “Fuck baby. Let me - I want you to take your jeans off. Let me see you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise but you grin at how dirty he is. “Mr. Morales, right here in the truck?” You ask, sounding scandalized even if you are already unbuckling your seat belt and lifting your hips as you unbutton and unzip your jeans to peel them off.

“Right here.” He nods, grinning and he groans at your bare thighs before you push your panties down. You kick the material aside and he loves seeing your cunt up close. “So goddamn pretty.” He murmurs, glad he’s at a stop light and he reaches out to swipe his fingers through your folds.

“Fuck!” You cry out when he touches you, catching the attention of the car next to his truck but you don’t care. “Frankie.” You whimper, spreading your legs wider and letting him touch you however he wants. The fact that he’s doing this here adds thrill to it, making it even more naughty.

If he thought your pussy looked gorgeous, that was before he touched it. Like pure fucking silk. Jesus, the amount of times he’s imagined doing this. He rubs your clit, gathering up your slick before he pushes a finger into you, loving the way you moan his name.

You gasp, your walls clenching down around his fingers. “Frankie.” You moan, your head leaning back against the headrest and a car honks their horn behind you, making you jump. “Oh shit, the light’s green.”

He huffs, wishing you were already home but he continues driving, maybe a little faster than he should while he has a finger inside of you. He pushes another finger into you, loving how tight you feel. You’re so fucking perfect for him. He loves it. He loves you. “Yes baby. Want you to cum in my truck.”

You whimper, closing your eyes as he pumps his fingers into you. “Good- good thing you have a- a automatic truck.” You pant out, giggling breathlessly. “Fuck Frankie, your fingers, Jesus they’re so good.” You moan, rolling your hips down to push him deeper.

Frankie is so proud and so fucking happy that you are enjoying his fingers. He wants you to enjoy everything he does to you tonight. It’s one way he gets to keep you…to satisfy you. “Fuck baby. You are so tight around my fingers. Want you to cum on them.” He presses his thumb against your clit.

Your moan is loud, nearly a sob when he presses against your clit. “Oh fuck!” Your body lurches forward slightly as your cunt clamps down on his fingers and you soak them.

“Fuck.” Frankie groans when you cum, clamping down on his digits, and he hisses when you soak them. Yes you are everything he’s ever wanted. “Jesus. So tight.” He groans, continuing to work his fingers inside of you.

You can’t wait to get back to the house and get him into your bed. “God, it’s so much better than my own fingers.” You praise, riding out your orgasm with achingly slow aftershocks making your thighs clench. Only when you are completely wrung out and slumping back against the seat does he pull his fingers out of you, holding them up to see how wet they are.

Frankie wastes no time in shoving his fingers into his mouth, groaning because you taste so good and he can’t wait to get you back so he can bury his face into your cunt. He wants to make you cum with his tongue. He speeds a little faster and thankfully pulls onto the driveway, immediately killing the engine and reaching out to pull you close so you can taste yourself on his tongue.

Loving how eager he is, you kiss him back. He had barely parked the truck before he pulled you to him and kissed you. Moaning quietly, you let your mouths meld for a long minute before you pull away. “We should go in.” You pant. “I- I need to put my pants back on.”

He knows you’re right, you don’t need the neighbors seeing anything and he doesn’t want the neighbors to see anything so he lets you go so you can pull your jeans back on. “Hurry up baby. Wanna get you inside.” He says, getting out of the truck and walking around to help you out.

You jump out of the truck and let Frankie hustle you to the outside door. Giggling to yourself at the fact that he drops his keys and curses as he picks them up and tries to get the door open. “Get the door open, baby.” You coo, reaching out and cupping his ass playfully.

Frankie struggles to open the door but manages, guiding you upstairs to your apartment and he uses his master key to open up, pushing you inside and shoving you up against the door so he can slide his tongue back into your mouth.

You moan into his mouth, reaching up and tangling your fingers into his hair. Tugging on the strands while you kiss him back, desperate to make him feel half as eager for you as you are for him. “Frankie.” You whimper when he starts kissing down your jaw. “Bedroom.”

He is grateful he knows the layout as he grabs your waist and guides you backwards towards your bedroom while his lips kiss you back. His tongue sliding into your mouth and his hands sliding down to squeeze your ass.

The two of you stumble into your bedroom and you're grateful that you keep your apartment clean as you reach for the buttons on his shirt. The room is clean and you have every intention of throwing his clothes on the floor so you can touch him. “Fuck.” You hiss, feeling his hard cock grinding against you.

“You’re so perfect.” He groans, letting you shove his shirt off of his shoulders and he reaches for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head to expose the pretty lace bra that matches the panties. He might have to take that as a momento. “Love this.” He murmurs, reaching behind you to unclasp it. When he tosses it aside moments later, he leans down to take your nipple into his mouth.

Gasping his name, your fingers fumble with his belt. Eager to open it and touch him, feel the weight of his cock in your hands. Eyes half closed as he bites down on your nipple hard enough to make you moan. “Fuck.” Your hand finally can fit and you don’t waste a second, shoving it into his pants to wrap around his hot and throbbing cock.

“Fuckkkk.” Frankie hisses around your nipple, unable to believe how good just your hand feels on his cock and he prays you like what you find. He wants you to be happy and he wants you to enjoy this. It’s important that you enjoy this since you’re going to spend the rest of your life with him.

Moaning, your fingers encircle him, rolling down the foreskin and swiping a thumb over the sensitive tip. Chuckling breathlessly when his hips buck forward and your nipple pops out of his mouth. “Take your fucking pants off, Frank.” You demand roughly, giving him a good squeeze.

He loves how commanding you are, stepping back to push his pants down along with his boxers after kicking off his shoes and he stumbles while taking off his socks. His eyes meet yours and he hopes you like what you see.

“Shit.” He’s got a cock that is just begging to be sucked. Your fingers eagerly push down your jeans, happy you hadn’t bothered buttoning them up to get into the house, and you kick them off. He’s a combination of strength and softness and you fucking love it. You step closer and wrap your hand around his cock, sinking down to your knees so you can kiss the tip.

“You don’t have to - oh fuck.” Frankie groans when you wrap your lips around the head. “Baby. You don’t - let’s get on the bed. Want you to sit on my face. You can - shit - suck my cock while you do it.” He promises, gently pushing you off of his length.

Pouting slightly, you had wanted to see his face when you took him down your throat. Eager to see the faces he makes when he’s enjoying himself. “Fine.” You push yourself to your feet and press your breasts against his chest as you kiss him. “Get on your back.”

He’s eager, shifting to lay down on your bed, and when you straddle him, he grabs your hips to pull you back to hover over his face. Pulling you down immediately so he can slide his tongue through your dripping folds. Moaning into the flesh while his tongue flicks over your clit.

Giving a small cry, you lurch forward, eyes closed. Feeling Frankie pull your hips back and make you smother him with your cunt. Reaching out, you pant out moans while you start stroking him, eager to make him feel just as good as you wrap your lips around his cock again.

“Shit.” He hisses into your folds and he sucks your clit into his mouth. His hands squeeze your ass and he can’t stop his hips from jerking up towards your mouth when you take him deeper. He’s longed for you to suck him off since you moved in and he is loving it.

Moaning around him, you lap up the salty burst of precum and grind your hips back. His fingers dig into your skin and make you ache pleasantly, knowing they will form into bruises under your skin that you can press as a reminder that this happened. Stroking the base with your hand, you work him deep, loving how he moans into your cunt when he feels that you have him halfway down your throat before you swallow.

Frankie pulls back from your pussy to moan your name, panting when you swallow around him, and it’s been his dream to have you suck his cock. To find out how good you are…it’s unbelievable. It makes him eager to push you over the edge so he can get inside of you. He sucks on your clit, shifting one hand so he can push two thick digits into you.

You squeal around him, the sound muffled and your mouth drops open and his cock falls out while you let out another loud moan. “Oh fuck, oh fuck Fra-nkie.” Your hips roll back and you shudder.

He loves it. The way you soak his face has him nearly cumming too and he laps up every drop of your cum, slurping as he works you through it. When you shake, he stops and smacks your ass playfully.

“Oh shit.” You pant, shifting and moving off of him even when your hand is still around his cock. “That was- holy shit,” you giggle. “You are better than I even imagined.”

Frankie is pleased, so happy that you liked it. “Baby. I need - tell me I can fuck you.” He pleads, cock twitching in your hand and he is desperate for you but you have to want him. He will go home now if you want.

You whine and nod. “I- I’m on the pill and it’s been awhile.” You fluster and bite your lip. “But I have condoms in the nightstand.” You motion over to the table and look back at him to see if he wants one.

"It's been a while for me too. I want - can I cum inside of you?" He asks, caressing your side as you shift to lay down beside him. When you nod, he groans and shifts to kneel between your thighs, gripping his cock and pumping himself a few times as he shifts closer to swipe the head of his cock through your folds.

God, he looks so good as he starts to fill you up. His mouth goes slack, brows pinching together and the sexiest fucking groan you’ve ever heard rumbles out of his chest. It’s hard to watch because your own feelings of relief, of pleasure at being stretched out is starting to make your eyelids flutter. “Oh God.” Hands gripping his shoulder tight, hanging on while he keeps pushing deeper. 

“Good girl. Such a good girl.” He groans, pushing until he is fully inside of you and he leans down to press his lips to yours. The kiss is possessive, taking ownership of you as his as he starts to move his hips. It’s not soft and slow, it’s rough and a little rugged as he lets himself give over to his emotions, the need he has had for you since you moved in.

All you can do is hold on. Gasping and keening every time he pushes deep and his hips snap just a little harder into you. He grabs your thigh, hitching it up onto his waist so he can hit deeper, making you sob and your eyes roll back. “Fuck!”

He watches how much you are loving this. Fucking hungry for his cock, aren’t you? You’re gonna beg him to cum. He clenches his jaw, fingers digging into your flesh again and he hisses when you clench around him. “You like this?” He growls. “You like me being inside of you?”

“Yes, fuck yes!” You cry out, trying to lift up to meet his harsher thrusts but he is pushing you down into the bed with every drilling punch of his cock. “So good, I’m gonna cum.” You promise, feeling the knot in your belly coil tighter every time he moves. “Fuck!”

“Tell me you belong to me. Tell me you’re mine. Then I’ll let you cum.” He growls between gritted teeth, desperate for you to say it. His hips slamming against yours with every word he says, his hand coming up to gently grip your throat.

The possessive tone mixed with slightest pressure makes you nearly squeal the next time his cock bottoms out. “I’m y-yours!” You practically scream it, nails digging into his back as you hold on. “Yours, yours, yours!”

Your words send him over the edge. Burying his cock deep inside of you, he rubs your clit, frantic for you to fall over the edge with him. He can’t hold back anymore, burying his cock deep before he paints your walls with his hot seed. Your name escapes his lips while his hand goes slack on your clit.

Stars burst behind your closed lids and every nerve ending is lit on fire while you shake under him. The heat of his cum floods your core and makes you whimper, feeling the shallow pumps of his hips, the creamy liquid being pushed out from around his cock. “Oh fuck.” You manage after he’s gone still, head tucked into your neck. “That was…..amazing.” You giggle.

Frankie pants, trying to pull himself together and he kisses along your neck after letting go of it. You’re so goddamn perfect. He can’t lose you now. He can’t. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. “So good. You’re so - God, so damn good.” He pants against your neck.

“You did all the work.” You remind him, slowly stroking his back and feeling more relaxed than you’ve been in forever. “Definitely better than masturbating.” You hum playfully.

He chuckles, “yeah I agree. Not enough panties for me to do that.” He pants, not thinking clearly about his words since he’s still riding his high.

Wondering what he means, the words stick to the back of your mind, making you frown. Maybe he had a panty fetish, who are you to judge? “I think I lost some during the move.” You complain, thinking about your favorite pair. “Pissed me off. They were my favorite ones.”

"I'll buy you some new ones." He promises, kissing your jaw before pressing his lips to yours, trying to make you forget what he just said. "So fucking good. God, can't believe we waited so long to do that. Wanted to do that the moment I met you." He confesses, a blush on his cheeks.

“Oh really?” You smirk, a little smug about that and your walls clench down around his cock playfully to make him groan. “Waiting a month is a long time, huh?”

“It is when you have the sexiest woman in town, hell, the state, living above you.” He answers, a cheeky smile on his lips as he looks down at you. “I want to date it and I know - I know I’m your landlord but I don’t want - you aren’t obligated to do anything but I want you to know I want you.”

It’s sweet that he’s literally still inside you and he’s still worried about making sure that you are comfortable. “I said I was yours, didn’t I?” You murmur with a smile on your face, reaching up and caressing his cheek. “I want to date you. Obviously.” You cheekily give him a wink and drag him down for a kiss.

Frankie kisses you, now sweet and slow, and his heart is going a mile a minute. “I’m so - I have wanted this for so long.” He murmurs, caressing your cheek. “I’m going to take you to dinner. A proper dinner.”

You make a noise of protest, even if you are smiling. “Hey now.” You huff. “I loved our dinner tonight.” You lean up and kiss him again. “Dessert was even better.” You tease.

Frankie kisses you, groaning as he pulls out of you and he wastes no time in shuffling off of the bed so he can grab a washcloth to clean you up. "Here you go sweetheart." He murmurs, gently cleaning you before he cleans himself up. He will keep this rag. A memento of tonight.

You stand up and reach for your robe, unsure of what to do now. “I’ll go grab us some water.” You offer, walking out of the room and into the kitchen.

Frankie pulls on his boxers, shoving the rag into his pants that are still on the floor and he makes his way into the living room, following you to the kitchen, and he kisses along your neck, wrapping his arms around you. “Am I crazy if I say I think I’m falling in love with you?” He murmurs.

You give a small laugh, tilting your head so you can let him kiss you. “I think that’s just the sex talking.” You tease him. “Might be a little early for I love yous and proposals.”

Frankie knows what he feels but he doesn’t push you. Humming in agreement and kissing your neck again. His hands slide down to your stomach, imagining you full of his baby. A life with you. Being married and having a family. It’s all he’s ever wanted. “Soon.” He promises, stepping back and taking the water to down half of it. He’s excited to get back to his place and see the footage from your first time.

You shake your head at his thirst and drink your own water. “Well, I should go.” You are surprised, but you don’t want him to feel like he has to go or stay even. “If you want to.” You lean in and kiss him again. “I think I might run into you sooner than you expect.” You grin and kiss his lips again.

Frankie smiles, kissing you one last time. He doesn’t bother changing, just stepping back to grab his clothes, making sure the rag doesn’t fall onto the floor. “I’ll see you around sweetheart.” He winks, not wanting you to feel too pressured just yet. He will have you, you just have to want him more.

Letting Frankie out, you close your door and hum happily to yourself. You had a great time and so what if he might be a little too eager. It was better than douchebags who string you along or decide to ghost you. Things will be fine.

****

“Hey baby.” Frankie greets you when you open the door. It’s been a few weeks since you had your first date and Frankie is ready to ask you to be his girlfriend. He has take out and champagne in his hands. “I got the food.” He holds up the bag.

“Hey.” You plaster on a smile and open the door wider, slightly irritated because you had told Frankie that tonight had been stressful and you were just going to take a bath and go to bed early. You huff, telling yourself that you’re being a bitch and he’s taking care of you. “Thanks. I didn’t expect that.”

“I wanted to cheer you up. I know it’s been a long day and I wanted to make it better.” He says, wondering if he was a good idea but you step aside to let him in and he holds up the bottle of champagne.

“Fancy.” You take the bottle and examine the label. “What are we celebrating tonight?” You bite your lip and turn towards the kitchen, knowing he will follow you. The glasses are in there but you don’t know where your bottle opener is. You’ve seemed to misplace it again

Frankie watches you take out the glasses and he opens the bottle of champagne, chuckling when the cork flies across the room, and he pours two glasses, holding one up towards you. “I wanted to ask you something.” He clears his throat and you frown, wondering what he is going to ask. “I wanted to ask…will you be my girlfriend?”

There are times when he’s so sweet you don’t know why someone didn’t snap him up already. “I kind of thought I already was.” Grinning over the rim of your glass. “I mean, we are together practically every night.”

“Yeah but I wanted to ask you officially.” He blushes, fingers flexing around the small flute in his hand. “I wanted to officially make you my girlfriend and - fuck, it’s a little high school but I want to do this right. It went so wrong in my last relationship and I just - I want everything to go right with you.”

You lean in and smile, pressing your lips to his to soothe away the frazzled nerves. “Yes Frankie, I’ll be your girlfriend.” You declare softly before you take a sip of the champagne. “Ohhh Steven’s gonna be so disappointed we aren’t both single this weekend.” You snicker, although you don’t mind at all. Not really.

Frankie tries to not let it show how much that fucks him off. Hearing about Steven now and then has him on edge. The dude is in love with you and Frankie refuses to let anyone come between you both. “Are you, uh, you’re going out with Steven this weekend?” He asks, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Yeah, I didn’t tell you?” You ask, surprised that you hadn’t mentioned it. “We are going to a concert.” You hadn’t invited him because you knew that he would hate crowds.

The news makes Frankie’s blood boil but he tries to calm down, knowing there’s nothing he can do about it. He nods, “that’s gonna be fun. I, uh, it would’ve been nice if you’d told me, I booked a restaurant for us to go to.” He rubs his jaw, trying to act indifferent but he is upset that you didn’t communicate with him.

“Oh.” You bite your lip, not wanting to point out that he had done the same thing by making plans without communicating. “I’m sorry.” You frown with a small pout. “I would cancel, but I’ve already paid for my ticket.”

Frankie is peeved but tries to not let it show. He nods, "I can change the booking. You go have fun with Steven." He offers, trying to compromise and not scare you off. His mind is already whirling with ideas but he will keep those to himself. "Sorry baby. Seriously, you go have fun." He coos, reaching to touch your waist.

“Okay. I know I’ve been neglecting my friends.” You reach out and stroke his chest. “You should get together with your friends. Have a boys night and complain about your girlfriend.” You grin at the title, wrinkling your body happily. “We can text and complain about how we wish we were on your couch with takeout.”

Frankie chuckles, not necessarily thinking it’s a bad idea to catch up with the guys. He just hates the idea of spending a night without you. Of you with that prick Steven who will probably try and turn you against Frankie. He’s heard the calls on the landline. Steven giving his opinion on Frankie being a little too intense. What the fuck does he know? “Sounds like a plan baby.” He kisses your hair, staring at the camera he put in your coffee machine across the kitchen.

“Okay.” You breathe a small sigh of relief, really not wanting to fight with him. “So what did you bring for dinner?” You ask before you take another sip of the champagne. It’s really sweet that he brought you dinner and you appreciate it. You are hungry and it seems like Frankie knows exactly how to take care of you. It’s like he knows you inside and out.

Frankie knows everything you like and dislike. He has watched your every move for weeks and he feels like he knows you inside and out. “I got us pasta from that place in town that you like.” He tells you, wanting you to know how much he knows you without making you suspicious.

“Ohhh god.” You moan quietly and roll your eyes. “You know I love pasta. You’re the best.” You reach out with grabby hands playfully.

He chuckles, glad you like it and he is pleased you are happy. All he wants is to make you happy. After you eat, Frankie and you cuddle on the sofa. He loves just sitting here and watching a movie, safe from the world and no one to take you away from him. “Are you sure you wanna go to the concert?” He asks casually while you rest on his chest. 

“Yeah? Why?” You frown, sitting up to look at him. 

“I just - it’s not very safe. The crowds. I’m worried about you.”

“I’ll be okay.” He looks doubtful, but you shoot him a serious look. “Seriously, it’s not going to be a rowdy concert. I’m just going to have a beer or two.” You promise, wanting him to trust you.

Frankie wants to put his foot down and tell you you aren't going but he can't be that heavy handed. "I know baby but...Steven won't be able to look after you if something happens. I just - I want you to be safe. I want you to enjoy yourself but I am worried. Steven can't keep you safe."

You sigh softly and shake your head. You don’t want to get into an argument. “I won’t drink, okay?” You compromise, even if you think it’s ridiculous. You have your pepper spray and you’ve never had any major issues. “Will that make you worry less? Maybe you can give me some self defense lessons if it’ll make you feel better.”

"Baby please. I just - it makes me uncomfortable because of my past to let you go to a big crowd like that. I'm scared to lose you." He reveals, his voice small and almost weak as he tries to convince you not to go.

You sigh. “I’ll sell the tickets and we’ll just watch a movie or something.” You are annoyed that he’s talked you out of something that you’ve been looking forward to for a month.

Frankie bites his lip to smother his victorious smirk. and he nods, leaning forward to kiss your hair. "Thank you baby. I promise that I will make this up to you. I just want you to be safe."

You nod, feeling slightly put out but you try to kick the feeling. “I’ll be safe but you need to be safe with your boys too.”

"Sweetheart. We were in Delta...it's who we bump into who needs to be worried." He snorts, wrapping his arm around you to pull you closer so he can kiss your cheek before he focuses on the movie you are watching. Hopefully that is the end of the issue and he is satisfied to keep you away from Steven.

****

“You should just go.” Steven frowns at you. “What is he going to do? He’s not even here and he shouldn’t be dictating what you are doing.” You fluster slightly, not wanting to fight with Steven but you had given Frankie your word before he left. “Why don’t we just stay here and watch a movie.”

Frankie’s phone went off when Steven pulled onto the driveway and he opens the camera app to listen to the conversation. When he hears Steven trying to convince you to go, he rolls his eyes. “You - you are different since you’ve been with Frankie. He squashes you. You do everything he wants. You’ve lost yourself because of him.” Steven shakes his head.

“That’s not true.” Protesting that, you roll your eyes. “I’m in a relationship and there does need to be compromise.” You tell him. “We went out just the other night because I wanted to and Frankie really wanted to stay home.” Shaking your head, you frown at Steven. “Look, I know I’m not spending as much time with you and the others as I normally do, but I feel like everyone pulls away from social groups when they are getting a relationship started. It’s new and honestly? You guys don’t want to see us kissing or having sex.” 

Steven shakes his head. “It’s not that. It’s that - there’s something about him. He gets this weird possessive look in his eyes whenever he’s around you and you’ve changed. You do whatever he wants and that’s not like you. You’re so strong and he has just - he’s controlling you and you can’t see it. Please, listen to me. I care about you. A lot.”

Like the stubborn idiot that you are, you shake off your own doubts that have popped up and sigh. “I know you like me Steven, but badmouthing Frankie isn’t going to make me break up with him and want to be with you.” You hiss. “Now we can hang out or you can go home. Your choice.” You’re pissed because he won’t stop complaining about you being happy and it’s starting to get on your nerves. “You are just pissed that I have a boyfriend who loves me and it’s not you.”

Steven rears back like you slapped him, a hurt look in his eyes as his mouth opens and closes, trying to find the words to argue that but failing. “Don’t do this sweetheart. He’s gonna - there’s something off about him and it’s gonna - you’re gonna get hurt. Do I love you? Yes. I do. I’m in love with you and that’s why I don’t want to see you get hurt. I am acting above my emotions here. I just want you to be safe. There’s something off about Frankie.”

You immediately feel bad, but you sigh softly. The joy of hanging out with your friend is now ruined and all you want to do is curl up on your couch and drink the half bottle of wine that Frankie had brought you the other day. Ironic that he went out with his friends and your night has turned into a shit show. “Listen…” You give a small shrug. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this right now. Obviously we’re both upset and I just-“ you reach out and cup his cheek. “I care about you, I do. But I am fine and maybe- maybe we just need a few days to cool off, okay?”

Frankie listens in on the camera, clenching his jaw at how you cup Steven’s cheek. He’s not out with the boys, he’s just in his truck, watching what is happening. Steven says okay and tells you to be careful, stay safe, before he says his goodbyes. Making Frankie roll his eyes before he sets his phone down, driving towards your place, parking up and waiting until Steven pulls away from the curb. Frankie follows, knowing he can’t allow this asshole to put thoughts in your head. Frankie can’t lose you, not now, and he is going to make sure he never does. Especially because of Steven.

****

You frown as you stare down at your phone. The messages opened and you can clearly tell that they are being delivered. You wonder if Steven has turned off the Read option for you on his phone. Or if he’s just decided that he’s not going to talk to you again. To Steven: “Listen, I know that I said that we needed a few days, but it’s been a week and I really want to talk to you. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. Text me back and tell me to fuck off at least?” Your front door opens and Frankie walks in, making you look up and close your phone out with a smile. “Hey babe, that didn’t take long.” You look at the bags in his hands and grin. “Couldn’t decide what to make for dinner?” 

Frankie leans down to kiss you when you walk over to take a few bags. "No. I just- I figured we could spend a few days just hanging around the house. I am tired after work and now that I have some days off...I just want to spend every minute with you." He coos, setting the bags down on your counter. He knows you've been trying to contact Steven, the worried look on your face, even though Steven's phone is now in the middle of the Everglades. "You okay?" He asks you, pulling you into his arms after you set the bags down.

“Yeah….” You hadn’t told Frankie about your argument with Steven, because it was over him and you were worried that he was going to use it as an excuse to tell you that you needed to step back from Steven as a friend. You could tell that he didn’t care for the other man, but you had brushed it off as the two men engaging in a silent pissing competition for dominance. Archaic, but they’re men. “Just friend stuff.” 

Frankie hums, trying to not say that he knows what happened but then you’d question it and he doesn’t need you asking questions. He kisses your hair, “well hopefully it gets better. I got your favorite snacks so go pick a movie and we can relax, okay?” He offers, trying to cheer you up.

“You know…” You sigh and shake your head, stepping out of his arms. “I think that I just want to go to bed early tonight.” You admit quietly. “Alone. I just- I think that I just need a night to wallow.” You look into his eyes and try to ignore the hurt because you need to just be miserable and you will be shit company anyway.

Frankie frowns, not liking this sudden change. He knows it’s about Steven and he supposes he should let you wallow for the night so this silly behavior ends sooner rather than later. He nods, “of course. I’ll, uh, leave you to it.” He offers, backing away from you and trying to not show how hurt he is.

“I appreciate it.” You do, wondering why Steven doesn’t see that Frankie lets you have space when you need it and caters to your needs. “I’m sorry, I know you are disappointed.” You murmur softly. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” 

“It’s okay baby. I’ll talk to you later.” He promises, kissing you softly before he backs away from you. Disappointed but even he knows when to push. He steps back, making his way to the door. “See you later, baby.” He smiles, shutting the door behind him and makes his way downstairs. Hopefully this passes. Steven is gone and you need to get over it.

****

You hum as you make your way to the shared laundry space in the house. The apartments didn’t have separate hookups, but Frankie had kept the original laundry space and made it free for both units to use. Your night had been restless and at the end of it, you had been pissed. Never hearing from Steven, despite calling him several times, you had sent him one last text telling him that you had decided that it was best if the two of you just stopped talking and you had deleted his number and blocked him. If he couldn’t be an adult and talk to you, you didn’t want to deal with him. Frankie is gone, truck out of his parking space in the driveway before you had woken up, so you had decided to do some laundry. When you get down there, you shake your head with a grin. Frankie hates laundry and there is a load in the dryer and one in the washing machine. You pull out the single outfit from the dryer with an amused expression, the jeans look like they had seen better days and had bleach spots all over them. You wonder if he had an accident with the bleach and decided they would be good yard work jeans. After folding them and transferring his clothes over to start your own load, you decide that you will put them up in his closet so he doesn’t throw them over a chair like he normally does. Wanting to do something nice for him to make up for last night.  

You open his closet, preparing to put his shirts away when you accidentally walk backwards, knocking the dresser. You gasp, spinning around when you see the face of the dresser has come off. Confusion follows the shock and you inspect the dresser, wondering why there’s a façade of drawers when it’s just a large chest. You carefully remove the large piece of wood, frowning when you see dozens of shoe boxes and you wonder why he keeps his shoes like this.

It seems weird and there is a moment where you hesitate as you reach for one of the boxes. You’ve seen two sets of shoes on Frankie, his boots and a beat up pair of tennis shoes. So the dozens of shoe boxes has you wondering. Maybe it’s memorabilia. Pulling out a box, you flip the lid open, eyes widening when you stare down at the contents with a gasp. 

Frankie whistles as he gets out of his truck, looking forward to spending another evening with you. He is so in love with you. It’s never been like this before. He opens the door, ready to go and see you upstairs after he changes but he frowns when he hears movement. He approaches the bedroom, ready to fight but instead he finds you in his closet. “What the fuck are you doing in here?” He growls.

Screaming, you drop the box that you are holding, scattering the contents on the floor next to the other boxes of horror that you have opened. Your eyes blow wide and frantic at being caught, the mottled red fury on his face making your entire body quiver in a panicked flight or fight response. You step back, trying to press deeper into the closet and brush back against his clothes. “I- I was p-putting you-your clothes up.” You stammer, eyes darting back down to the boxes and then back up to him. 

“Doesn’t fucking look like it, sweetheart. What are you - did you open these?” He demands to know, pointing at the boxes scattered on the floor. He steps closer, “did you fucking open these?”

“N-n-no.” You shake your head quickly, as if denying it would make it true. Or maybe it was that you just wanted him to desperately believe you. “I didn’t.” You start edging toward the door trying to move past him. “I- I’ll go get something to clean up.” you offer, needing to get out of this closet and away from him. What you had seen had chilled you to your very soul. 

You get up and Frankie reaches out to grab you by the upper arm, stopping you from moving. “Why did you do that?” He asks, voice calm and even now that he knows you’ve seen the boxes.

“You’re…hurting my arm.” You whimper quietly, trying to pull your arm away from Frankie, but he doesn’t let go. “Frankie, let go!” You hiss, yanking sharply and crying out when his grip tightens even more. 

Frankie keeps a tight grip on you. “Why did you do that? Tell me. What did you see? Did you open those boxes? Fucking tell me.” He roars, leaning closer to you. He’s furious and terrified. So scared he’s gonna lose you now.

“You’re HURTING ME!” You shout, reaching up and shoving the heel of your hand into his nose as hard as you can. You know you don’t break his nose, but he does spit a curse, his hand dropping away from your arm and you scramble to get around him, needing to get away from him as quickly as possible. There was a box with your things in them. Steven’s keys. His wallet, the one you had given him for his birthday two years ago. Frankie had killed him, you just know it. That’s why he hasn’t answered you. You stumble out of the closet and start running for the door. 

Frankie rubs his nose, pain still searing but he knows how to fight against it. "Baby, come backkkk." He calls, stalking out of the bedroom and he crowds you at the door, grateful he always has a habit of locking it with a key from the inside. "Where are you going, sweetheart?" He coos, the anger passing and he doesn't want you to go. He can't lose you.

“Oh god.” You whimper, fumbling with the lock in your desperate attempt to get it open. “Get away- you- you killed Steven!” You sob, tears sliding down your cheeks in your panic.

Frankie chuckles, knowing that there's no point in hiding it. You know now and he has to either deal with you or convince you to accept him. "Baby. He had to go. You were getting upset by him and he wanted to take you away from me so he had to go.” 

Sobbing at his confession, you lurch away from the door and try to rush past him. Frankie is too quick and strong, grabbing you and dragging you closer to him. “It’s okay, calm down.” He croons. “I love you baby, I did it for you.” You shriek and start to struggle against him, desperate to get away.

He pulls you even closer when you struggle, making him huff. "I did it for you! I love you! I can't lose you. I can't - not again. I can't - it can't happen again." He cries, almost smothering you into his chest.

You push and shove at him, trying desperately to get away. Knowing that you have to or you will end up like those women in those boxes. Shrugging against his hold and stomping on his foot as hard as you can.

"For fuck's sake baby. Why are you doing this? Don't you love me? I did all of this for you. All of it was for you. I just wanted to make you happy and you act like this? Baby please, listen to me. I did this for you. Because I love you."

You cry, knowing that you have been so fucking blind. There were pictures in your box. He had been watching you. Inside your apartment. “Let me go!”

"Baby please. This is meant to be. I want you to be mine. I have done everything for you. I killed for you." He confesses plainly. "I - I learned everything about you. What you like...what you don't like. You are perfect for me." He chokes, wishing this nightmare wasn't happening.

Your entire body goes still, knowing you won’t get away from him if you keep struggling. Frankie is a fucking ex-Delta soldier, he can subdue you easily and he’s not done more than hold you. You remember the gun in his closet. “F-for me?” You manage, trying to calm down. You needed to be smart, believable if you were going to survive it. “H-how?” You gesture back to the bedroom and the closet of horrors. “S-show me, show me how this was for me.”

Frankie relaxes a little, feeling like you are calming down, and he guides you towards the closet. “These boxes…they are all of women who have rented here but you - you are different. You are more important. You are the love of my life baby and I had to kill Steven because he was trying to take you away from me. I couldn’t allow him to do that. I couldn’t allow that so he had to go. Baby, I love you. Can’t you see that I did this for you?”

“You love me.” Frankie had told you that over and over again. It had made you feel special at the time, even if it was a little early. “The- the other women…..” You bite your lip and look at all the boxes. So many of them. “Did you- what happened to them?”

He can’t look at you when he says it. “They didn’t want me and they - they didn’t - they had to go. I didn’t want to but if I couldn’t have them, no one could. They had to go.” He chokes, looking at how many boxes have accumulated and he hopes you won’t have to be added.

You shudder at the implication, but his eyes aren’t on you and the gun that he keeps on the shelf is right there. Lunging for it, your hands are shaking when you point it at him. “Get away from me!” You scream, pressing the gun closer and fumbling with the safety on the side.

Frankie’s eyes widen as you grab his gun and he reaches for you but he’s too late and you hit him in the shoulder. He winces but doesn’t react, reaching for you but you manage to evade him. You get underneath his arm as he reaches for you and the gun but you rush out of the closet and through the apartment. Frankie growls, trying to rush after you.

This time you manage to get the door open, fleeing his apartment and then through the door of the house as you start screaming at the top of your lungs. You want someone to hear you, anyone. Desperate to get away from Frankie as you rush towards your car.

Frankie groans, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he makes his way outside, watching you as you try to pull your car out of the driveway. He slams his hand on the car, stopping you from driving away and he desperately wants you to stay.

You don’t even hesitate. Knowing it’s wrong but in this instance, it’s life or death. If Frankie gets ahold of you, you will disappear just like those other women. You throw the car in drive and stomp on the gas, running the car into Frankie and making him fly back into a crumpled heap on the ground.

Frankie curls around himself, his body in pain from being run over and he watches you drive off. “Come back.” He chokes, lifting his hand and he loses consciousness as he watches your car speed down the street.

It takes you nearly an hour to convince the police to listen to you. That you weren’t crazy. Especially since you had rushed into the station holding the gun that you had shot Frankie with. For a moment, you had five officers pointing their own weapons at you until you had dropped the gun, nearly hysterical. Now you are in the back of a cruiser, headed back to the house of horrors so you can see Frankie be arrested.

When you arrive at the house, the police tell you to stay back, their weapons drawn as they approach the house and when they call out for Frankie, no one answers. They edge closer, kicking the door open and they frown when they see his apartment is empty.

“Madam.” You look up as an officer knocks on the back window. “We need you to come inside.” You are shaking as you get out, scared to confront him. To see him again. Taking a deep breath, you exhale harshly when you see his apartment doesn’t have everything it had in it before. Hastily emptied of a lot of things, mainly the shoe boxes in the closet. “I- I don’t understand. He was here!”

“The apartment is empty.” The police officer declares, frowning at you as he puts his gun away. “We checked the records and no one called Francisco Morales has lived here or owned this property.” He reveals, looking at you with sympathy.

“No, he- he did!” You look around and shake your head. “Francisco Morales, he- he is ex Army. He- he’s delta. He lived in this apartment.” You tremble, trying to figure out what is going on. He had told you so much about himself but none of it was useful right now. 

“I’m sorry honey. He wasn’t here. It’s just you. Do you - do you want us to call someone?” He offers, reaching out to touch your shoulder. “Do you want to - we can assist you inside of your apartment.”

You nod and the police officer escorts you to your apartment. Again, you find things hastily moved. Vent covers removed and fixtures pulled out. “Oh god.” You whimper, remembering the cameras. He had been watching you for god only knows how long. “I- I just need to get some things.” You start to cry. “I can’t stay here. He- he has a key.” 

The police officers offer to stay with you while you collect your things. It’s obvious you are upset so they wait until you have gathered everything. “I’m sorry ma’am. If we hear of anything, we will notify you.” The police officer tells you and you choke, nodding in response as you get into your car. Your relationship with Frankie was a lie. Everything was a lie and you are just lucky to not be another box in his closet. You are the lucky one. As you drive onto the street, you realize that the rental was too good to be true. Frankie was too good to be true.

****

“- so what do you say?” You cringe inside, but try to hold it together while the man smiles at you. He was friendly, a nice co-worker, but you were not going for it. “We can have a few drinks after work, have a good time.” You shake your head and give him an apologetic smile. “Sorry.” You murmur. “I just- I got out of a bad relationship recently.” You don’t even remember this guy’s name right now but you push the door to the office open where he had stopped you. “Thanks though.” You call over your shoulder as you walk out. 

You had moved cities, changed your cell phone number. Rented a house under another name, needing the safety of anonymity and even then you didn’t trust it. Obsessively going through your house every day and checking for cameras or microphones. Scared that Frankie would find you. Your keys in your hand, you hurry to the car and quickly get inside and lock the doors before you start the engine. 

Frankie watches you as you start the engine to your car. He’s been watching you for months, even moving to another city for you. You’re the one who got away and he can’t allow that. He starts his engine, deciding that tonight, he’s gonna make things right. You are his and only he can have you. 

He follows you to your house, parking a few blocks away before he gets out. He walks up the driveway and rings your doorbell. “Coming!” You call out, hands shaking as you open the door, not really thinking about checking the peephole. It’s probably your neighbor asking for some more toilet paper. When you open the door, your blood goes cold and Frankie offers you a wide grin. 

“Hello, sweetheart. Miss me?”

[memoriae-lectoris]

Covered in asphalt or gravel, the area behind the house was “a utilitarian space where trash was burned, clothes were washed and hung up to dry, and unneeded household items were left to rust.” It was in front of the house that children played, in the yard or in the street, in view of the neighbors. The border between private and public space was the porous alcove of the front porch, a place for supervising those kids, flirting with a classmate in the respectability of the public view, snooping on neighbors doing the same, or adroitly greeting relatives or salesmen who weren’t quite welcome inside the domestic sanctum. […]

In the 1920s, the backyard began to supersede the front porch as the primary domestic outdoor social space. This switch would be accelerated by the arrival of indoor enjoyments like television and air-conditioning, as well as appliances like washers and dryers, which freed the backyard from its workaday purpose, but it began with the automobile. Prior to widespread car ownership, streets were multifunctional public places suitable for hawkers and markets, stickball games and snowball fights, the storage of construction materials, and waste disposal. The roaring car traffic associated with Henry Ford’s Model T cemented the street’s sole purpose as a thoroughfare. […] The suburban cul-de-sac was the fruit of newly widespread car ownership—and a refuge from it. In 1922, House Beautiful noted strains of front porch fatigue: “the increase in motor-traffic, the dust and proximity of other houses tend to make the front porch less desirable each year . . . One prefers [porches] turned away from the trivial drama of the street with its hucksters and milk wagons and gossip.”

At the Tenth National Conference on Housing in 1929, one speaker declared that the dirty old backyard, of all places, could be repurposed to offer “charm and sanctuary from a too noisy world”—away from “front porch promiscuity.” But it was less the question of how cars moved than of where to keep them that changed the shape of the American house. This shift from front porch to backyard coincided with the forward march of the garage, out of the backyard and into the house itself, as the car (later, cars) assumed its prime place in family life. Wright led the way. With his Usonian houses, a series of middle-class dwellings he designed beginning in the 1930s, America’s foremost architect invented a new word, carport, to describe an attached, sheltered overhang for car storage. […] He preferred the carport to the attached garage for the same reason he disliked basements: closed garages were likely to become just another place to gather household clutter.

Nevertheless, the implements of the closed, attached garage were all in place and awaiting the postwar housing boom. Overhead garage doors were commonplace by the 1910s, electric garage door openers by the 1930s. Early subdivisions may not have had interior spaces for cars—at the most famous of them, Levittown, east of New York City, the entire house was barely the size of a modern three-car garage—but the attached garage became de rigueur in the 1950s as mass-transit ridership plummeted and the car reinforced its dominance.

[lopsided-whiskey-grin]

Flashbang

Ghost x Soap

Word count: 7.4k (i got on a roll and couldn’t help myself, much like the poor boys in this fic ;)) 

Summary:  Ghost and Soap stumble upon one of the Las Almas Cartel's drug labs trying to escape from the Shadows. They get much more than they bargained for when a vial of a new powerful drug on the market breaks open at their feet. It's going to be one long fucking night.

Tags:  sex pollen, mildly dubious consent, blow jobs, size kink, anal fingering, anal sex, choking, bottom Ghost, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, rimming, first time bottoming, frottage, praise kink, spooning, fluff, shameless smut, PWP, top switching, +18 only!

also on AO3

"Goddamn truck is losin' power," Ghost muttered.

Soap groaned and ran a hand roughly down his face. Three days worth of stubble rasped against his gloved palm. He looked over at Ghost. The dashboard was lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree and even with Ghost's foot pumping the gas pedal, the truck was barely lurching forward. 

This was one of those times where everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. Murphy's law or some such bullshit. It felt like the day was never-ending and it appeared that they still had a long way to go. 

They had not even made it out of Las Almas.

Soap glanced out the window to get his bearings. It was still dark as hell and pissing down rain and he had no idea what part of the city they were in. He hoped it was the outskirts, at least. 

Doing his best to ignore the ache in his arm from the gsw he'd gotten courtesy of Graves' team, Soap readied his rifle. He knew they were going to have to bail and most likely fight their way through another wave of Shadows. Would this day ever end? Christ, he was so fucking tired.

The truck pitched forward and Ghost tried to gun it one more time, but the engine only sputtered. They rolled to a stop. "Bloody fuckin' hell," he growled, slamming his hands onto the steering wheel. "Looks like we're walking, Johnny. You ready?"

Soap sighed and squared his shoulders "Aye." He nodded to Ghost, hand holding steady on the door handle, awaiting L.t's orders.

"We need to get off this main road and look for another vehicle. We'll move interior to that building there," he jerked his chin toward a darkened mechanic's shop about 10 meters ahead of them, "and hope we can find something in the alley behind."

"Rog. I've got your six." Soap took a deep breath and opened the door. 

The street was quiet as they exited the vehicle. Except for the sound of the pouring rain and occasional crack of thunder, it otherwise would have been a lovely fucking autumn evening. Soap rolled his eyes at his own sarcasm and fell in line behind Ghost. Please, let's just get the hell out of this in one piece. 

Soap's eyes darted to every shadowed corner, hypervigilant. He had just barely gotten through the town alive when he was trying to find his way back to Ghost at the church not but ten minutes before; he hadn't had a chance to catch his breath or even dress the wound on his arm, which still stung like a motherfucker, thank you very much. And now here he was again, stuck back in the goddamn rain. 

Ghost crept quietly ahead of him, lit dimly by the occasional streetlight, his cargos soaked and clinging to his firm arse. Soap had to admit, the view wasn't half bad from this vantage point. At least he had that going for him. 

They finally came to the mechanic's shop and Ghost gave the signal to pull up and wait. Johnny did. He kept a look-out while Ghost jimmied the door. This side of the town was quiet, eerily so, and it made him uneasy as hell. C'mon, Ghost, crack on with it, mate. 

In less than a minute, Ghost got the door open and they were inside. It was darker than the street outside and just as empty of people. Soap wasn't sure if that made him feel better or not. 

Looking around, he realized that although it had looked like an auto shop on the outside, it was a front for something completely different. It was cluttered inside, but not with cars or tools. He's clicked his headlamp on. 

"What's all this then?"

There were rows of tables with various bottles, tubes, bunsen burners, and scientific instruments. Along the back wall were hundreds of boxes, neatly stacked, ready to be shipped. There was a faint burnt chemical scent to the air mixing with the muted smell of old motor oil. 

Ghost stepped along beside him, studying the tables. His hand rested on the butt of his holstered sidearm. "Must be one of the narcos' drug operations. Their laboratory."

He carefully picked up a small vial off the table and turned it in the light of his headlamp. Even with the mask covering his face, Soap could see the curiosity glinting in Ghost's eyes. It made his stomach flip, not unpleasantly, to be able to read his Lieutenant's expressions so clearly when many others had a hard time just getting a read on him. He felt like he knew Ghost better than most, but even then he wanted to get to know him on a deeper level. He wanted to know everything about him. 

The liquid inside the vial was faintly pink and rolled and shimmered in an almost mesmerizing way as Ghost tipped the glass this way and that. "It's got a label on it," he murmured. "Flashbang." 

Soap stepped closer, wanting to get a better look. "Some kind of heroin, maybe?" he asked. 

Ghost shrugged and started setting it back down, but then pulled it back up, eyes narrowed like he was trying to remember.

"Wait. I've heard about this. In a classified brief I read last y—"

A loud crash at the back of the room cut him off and both men spun with weapons drawn. Soap's heart was in his throat as he aimed at the intruder. 

It was a cat. Only a goddamn cat. After yowling at them, it leapt from a table of metal bowls and canisters then disappeared into a small hole beside the back door with an indignant hiss. Soap let out a shaky chuckle and turned back toward Ghost, but Ghost was not laughing. 

"Shit," Ghost murmured. 

Soap followed his line of sight to the floor. The vial that had been in Ghost’s hand was now on the ground, smashed open, its contents in a little puddle at their feet. A soft vapor coiled up between them and Soap instantly felt a little dizzy.

"Oh, this is not good, Johnny." 

"What is it? Some kind of poison?" Soap took a step back, starting to panic a little from the concern Ghost was relaying. And that lightheaded feeling was only getting worse. 

Ghost shook his head and hooked a finger in his collar, swallowing thickly. "No. A sex drug."

Soap huffed out a breath. "Is that all? What, like Ecstasy? Viagra?" You had to swallow those for it to get in your system, Soap knew that. So what the fuck was Ghost freaking out about then?

Ghost brought his head up, his gaze centering on Soap. There was no humor in his expression. Soap's stomach dropped. He was really starting to not feel well. "Fucking talk to me, Ghost. What are we dealing with here?"

Ghost squeezed his eyes shut and turned away. He made a bee-line across the room to a closed door that said oficina on it. Soap followed close behind, rattled and angry at Ghost for not answering him. His cheeks suddenly felt flushed and warm and he didn't know if it was from his exasperation or some reaction to the drug. 

He watched as Ghost reared back and kicked the door in with a rough grunt. The door swung open violently, the knob clattering to the ground in a shower of wood splinters, and Soap realized with a shock that he was suddenly and inexplicably very aroused. What the bloody hell was going on?

Ghost stalked into the room but Soap only stood at the threshold, momentarily frozen. He was sporting a serious half-chub in his tactical pants and he couldn't decide if he should be embarrassed by it. He watched Ghost closely, feeling his pulse tick up to a rapid flutter. 

The office was pretty small, with most of the room taken up by a cluttered desk on one end and a loveseat and coffee table on the opposite side. Ghost sat down on the couch with his elbows on his knees and his fingers steepled in front of his mouth. He sounded a little out of breath behind his mask and Soap's heart rate went higher. Ghost looked huge on that small sofa, looming, imposing, like he could fold Soap like fucking origami with no trouble at all. 

Soap swallowed against a suddenly very parched throat and flicked the light switch on the wall next to him. A lamp on top of a filing cabinet clicked on, casting the room in a soft, almost romantic light. He took one step into the room. And then another. 

Ghost had not taken his eyes off of him. He slowly lowered his hands so that his palms were clasping his knees. "S-soap. This drug..." He stopped, cleared his throat. "For lack of a better word… it makes people fuck." 

Soap stopped and stood just on the other side of the coffee table from where Ghost sat. Molten heat pooled low in his belly and he adjusted his trousers. They were suddenly very tight. "What?" His brows shot nearly to his hairline. His brain felt a little too fuzzy, a little too light. 

Ghost squeezed his gloved hands over his knees. "Inhaling even just a small drop induces… unyielding arousal. You can't help yourself and you can't stop." His deep voice shook over the last word. He dropped his gaze to his hands. "Johnny, we breathed in almost that whole vial."

The gravity of the situation came crashing down on Soap in a split second of clarity. He blinked and ran a hand through his hair. "Christ." If they did this, everything would change between them, even if it was something they had no control over. "How long do the effects last? Can we just wait it out?"

Ghost shrugged wearily. "There weren't many specifics in the brief. I don't know." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and Soap felt his judgment start to cloud again.

Soap shook his head to clear his thoughts. Unchecked arousal continued to simmer just under the surface, crackling like a slow burning fire in his veins. If he didn’t get his hands on Ghost, and soon, he felt like he’d literally die. 

Silence hung between them for what seemed like seven agonizing hours but was really only seconds. 

"So, we're really doing this then?" Soap finally asked. Please say yes. Please say fucking yes.

"If by 'doing' you mean each other, I guess so, yeah. Don't look like we have a choice here, Johnny." Ghost's gravelly voice saying his name rasped across his nerve endings, making him tremble.

Soap looked at him, met his eyes. He took a deep breath and let it out. "For what it's worth, I've been wanting to. For a while." He almost couldn’t believe he said the words out loud. But it was the truth, finally, for better or worse. 

Ghost stared at him for a moment. Soap's heart was in his throat. Nervous anticipation thrummed through him like an ungrounded live wire. For all the times he'd stolen glances at L.t. or dreamt of touching him, he had never once let it show. He didn't know if it was pride, or fear, or something else entirely, but he had always been so careful to hide it — until now. 

And now here it was, all laid bare. All it took was an accidental overdose of fucking Flashbang, his brain unhelpfully supplied. 

Ghost's eyes were dark. He squeezed his knees again and finally said, "Me too."

The admission felt like a dam bursting loose, flooding Soap with a desire he had never known. He reached down, grabbed the coffee table before him and threw it to the side of the room. Ghost hardly had time to move at all before Soap was falling to his knees before him and spreading his Lieutenant's legs. 

Ghost sucked in a sharp breath as Soap eagerly reached for his zipper. He leaned back on the couch, arms spread wide along the back of it, eyes heavy lidded and drilling into him. Soap wasted no time in tugging off his gloves, opening Ghost's cargos, and fishing out his erection. It was massive. With his hand wrapped around the base, Soap's fingers barely touched. 

He looked up at Ghost in awe. "You've been hiding this thing all along? Sweet Jesus, how do you even walk around with this dick swinging between your legs?"

Ghost chuckled but put his hand on Soap's head and guided him forward. "Push on, Johnny. Enough chatter."

Soap licked his lips and sank forward. "Yes, sir."

This wasn't the first cock Soap had ever sucked, but it was one of the biggest. There was no challenge he'd ever backed down from, though. Holding the shaft steady, he drew the head into his mouth. 

Ghost bucked at the contact, digging his fingers into Soap's hair. The sharp tug instantly drove Soap wild and he took the length of him (or as much as he could possibly fit) to the back of his throat in one go. The weight and taste of him on his tongue was pure fucking perfection -- a mixture of salt, and heat, and Ghost flooded his senses. He took a moment to savor then started bobbing his head up and down on Ghost’s cock, his lips feeling every delicious ridge and vein.

The groan Ghost let out above him was utterly unreal and sent a shock straight to Soap's stomach like a gut-punch. How long had he been waiting to hear exactly that? Too fucking long. 

It quickly became a sort of game to him then, licking and sucking in all different ways, just to hear how many sounds he could pull from Ghost. He was intoxicated by it and his own cock jumped within the confines of his tactical pants in response. He'd see to that soon enough; for now his only mission was to make Ghost come. 

With that one goal in mind Soap worked Ghost’s length with his hand in opposite time to the laving swipes of his tongue all along the underside of his shaft. He swallowed him down like he was a starving man being given the best meal of his life. And truly he was -- there was a hunger churning within him that made his insides ache.

It wasn’t long until Ghost was a panting, moaning mess above him. Soap slowly pulled off, then ran the tip of his tongue along the edge of Ghost's foreskin. A full body shudder wracked through him that reverberated all the way to Soap’s hand. 

"Shit, Johnny, I'm gonna —"

That was the only warning Soap got before Ghost cursed roughly and painted his face with stripes of his release. Panting for breath, Soap looked up at him slowly with a grin and licked at a droplet clinging to his bottom lip. Ghost's chest was heaving and he looked like his brain was about to catch fire.

He gently stuffed his softening cock back into his cargos, but didn’t bother zipping up. "Your turn, MacTavish." His voice was hoarse and deep, rough from the noises Soap had just wrenched from him. 

Soap quickly stood and undid his tactical vest. He tossed it aside then tugged his shirt over his head and used it to wipe his face clean. His boots and the rest of his clothes came off just as fast. Ghost's gaze raked over him with an undeniable greed that sent a shiver through his whole body and held his hand out for Soap, presumably to help him stand up from the couch. But Soap had another idea. 

"I thought you said it was my turn?" he asked, finally giving attention to his neglected cock with a languid stroke. 

"I do believe that's what I just said," Ghost replied, amused. 

Soap smirked, giving himself another stroke. He felt so warm in this cool room and knew he was undoubtedly ruddy from his chest to his cheeks, thanks to his damnably fair Scottish skin. "Sit on the floor." His voice sounded thick and heavy to his own ears. He wasn't used to ordering anyone around like this, much less his own fucking Lieutenant, but the drug seemed to be bringing out a side of him he’d always kept shoved deep down. 

Ghost complied, sliding down from the couch until his arse was seated on the ground. Soap stood before him, unabashedly naked and hard as a goddamn rock, with his feet on either side of Ghost's hips. He then pulled one foot up and set it on the couch to the side of Ghost's head and kept the other on the floor. 

Heady arousal scorched through him as Ghost looked up at him then slowly pulled his mask up to uncover his mouth. He didn't go any further, but Soap didn't need him to. His plush, soft lips were all Soap needed at the moment and they were going to look downright sinful wrapped around his cock. 

Ghost kept his eyes locked on Soap as he opened his mouth and let Soap sink right into him. He wasn't as well endowed as Ghost but he was just enough to make Ghost gag when he brushed the back of his throat. 

"Fucking christ," Soap moaned. Hot, wet heat enveloped him completely, short circuiting his brain. The relief of the skin to skin contact was indescribable. 

And then Ghost's hands, still gloved, came up to Soap's hips, encouraging him to start moving. Soap gulped in a breath and then move he did. He cupped the back of Ghost's head and rocked slowly at first, letting him get used to the feel of him in his mouth. But the pace was too slow for the urgency pounding through Soap's veins and he quickly kicked it up a notch. Ghost did not seem to mind at all -- welcoming it in fact, with muffled groans that vibrated right into Soap's core. 

After a few thrusts, Soap pulled out, knowing he was getting close but not wanting this moment to end. He held his cock loosely in front of Ghost's mouth then ran just the tip across his lips. Ghost's eyes slipped closed.

From this angle he could see the glint of saliva and precome shining on Ghost's chin. It was one of the sexiest things he’d ever fucking seen. He couldn't hold back any longer. Feeding his cock back into the warmth of L.t's mouth, he began to snap his hips forward roughly. Ghost tightened his hold on Soap's hips, riding it out. Nothing else mattered in that moment, not the Shadows, not Graves, not even his duty to his country. Everything -- every fucking thing was reduced down to just Ghost and Soap and the incredible surge of pleasure arcing between them. 

Soap continued pounding into Ghost's mouth, racing closer and closer to the precipice of his orgasm. He felt tight, coiled, ready to snap. 

"Ghost." His name was a strangled plea.

Ghost's hand moved from Soap's hip to slide up between his legs. He cupped Soap's bollocks, rolling and tugging them with just the right amount of pressure and Soap was as good as fucking gone. 

He came hard, shooting his load straight down Ghost's throat with a strangled shout. He could feel the constriction of Ghost swallowing around him and he spasmed once more. He felt blissfully sated and wondered if they had already worked each other through the drug's unrelenting grip, not knowing they were far from over. 

Soap could stay upright no longer and sank down on shaky legs, straddling Ghost's still clothed body. He framed Ghost's partially masked face and dove in for a kiss. Ghost met his open mouth, hungry, searching. Soap could taste himself on Ghost's tongue and it nearly drove him out of his goddamn mind. He took and took and took until they were both breathless.

After a moment, Soap broke the kiss to press his lips and tongue and teeth to Ghost's exposed neck, making Ghost gasp. He could feel the rapid jump of Ghost's pulse just under the skin and felt it kick higher when he sucked a small bruise to the tender flesh below his ear.

Ghost tugged off his gloves finally and ran his hands all over Soap's back. "Johnny," he rasped, dipping lower to squeeze Soap's arse.

Soap couldn't help the surprised grunt that fell from his lips. He arched his back and squirmed down into Ghost's lap and felt the hard press of his cock. His own had barely had a chance to get soft and was already stiffening up again. His refractory period on this drug was nigh on non-existent. Bloody hell. 

Ghost squeezed his arse again, hard enough to be just on the pleasurable side of pain. "I need to feel you inside me, Johnny," he growled. A cresting wave of desire plowed through Soap mercilessly at Ghost's words. It wasn't a mewling plea — it was a fucking order. 

Soap scrambled up off Ghost's lap and hauled him up from the floor by his tactical vest. He slammed another kiss to Ghost's mouth. They worked together to undo his vest, untie his boots, pull off his trousers. It was all taking too long. The arousal screaming through his veins wouldn't let him take one more second undressing Ghost, and so, with his shirt and mask still on, Soap pulled him across the small room, cleared the desktop with one swipe of his arm, and bent Ghost over it. 

Ghost was breathing hard, they both were. Soap's fingers trembled as he grabbed two handfuls of Ghost's ample cheeks. He shuddered beneath Soap's touch. Soap gave them a little squeeze and pulled them apart, ready to just dive right in. But then the fog clouding his brain briefly lifted. Lube. Christ, dinnae forget that at least, you dolt.

Hands abandoning Ghost's arse, Soap began frantically pulling desk drawers open. Ghost looked back over his shoulder.

"Soap, what the fuck'r you doing?"

"Lube," he said, still rummaging through drawers. 

"Christ, Johnny, we don't need all that. You're fuckin' killing me here, mate," Ghost chuckled. 

"We do need it. I dinnae want to hurt you, Ghost."

"I'm a big boy, Soap. I think I can take it." Ghost shook his head and chuckled again, but Soap could tell he was coming to the end of his patience. Soap was too. He needed, so fucking badly, to be buried in the perfect hole. 

Finally, in the last drawer he opened, Soap saw a bottle of pure aloe gel. He held it up proudly. "Bingo."

Ghost glanced back to see what he had found. "Resourceful." 

"You taught me well, L.t." Be smart with what you got -- Ghost’s words from earlier echoed in his mind and he smiled to himself. He wasted no time in cracking open the bottle, squeezing a generous glob of it onto Ghost's crack, and smearing it around. 

Ghost jerked hard enough to shake the desk. "Christ," he swore under his breath. 

Soap smiled devilishly and held him apart with one hand. He trailed his index finger over Ghost's entrance twice before sliding it in to the second knuckle. Ghost sunk his head down and slammed his fist onto the desk. He muttered something Soap couldn't make out. 

Deciding he needed to put them both out of their collective misery, Soap quickly finished prepping Ghost by adding a second then third finger to scissor and stretch him open. Even for the short amount of time it took, it was agonizing. Though he couldn’t complain too much because even this, the feeling of Ghost's wet heat drawing at his fingers, was damn near enough to make him come again. 

Ghost's thighs were shaking by the time Soap pulled his fingers free and lined up the head of his cock in their place. "You ready for this, then, Ghost?"

Ghost looked at him over his shoulder. "Johnny, I swear to fucking god if you don't get on with it, I will break your fucking legs."

"A simple yes would have been nice," Soap said with a grin, then pushed himself inside. 

Both men moaned in tandem when Soap bottomed out. The sheer pleasure of it was staggering -- pure, feral connection. Soap squeezed his eyes shut and focused on breathing. 

"Fuck,” he choked raggedly, pulling out halfway then slamming back in.

Ghost grunted, his hands scrambling for purchase on the desk, as Soap gripped his hips and began thrusting. He quickly set a punishing pace, pounding into him hard, chasing his body's unrelenting demand for completion. On one particularly brutal stroke, Ghost arched his back, pulling Soap in impossibly deeper and Soap swore he saw stars. They both gasped. Soap was not going to last long if they kept this up. 

"G-ghost. Holy shit, you feel so fucking good," he stammered. 

Ghost's answering growl echoed off the walls in the small room, ratcheting Soap's arousal even higher. Soap rubbed Ghost's hip soothingly then brought his hands once more Ghost's arse cheeks. He spread him open and looked down, needing, with everything inside him, to see the place where they were joined. Ghost was glistening and stretched tight around Soap's cock, pulling him in, accepting him easily into his body. Soap was utterly captivated.

"Shit, Johnny." Ghost's desperate voice snapped Soap back to attention. "I'm nearly there, but I need to see your face. I - I need to watch you come."

Soap moaned his eager agreement, knowing at the same time he wouldn't see Ghost's face because of the mask. Being denied that twisted something in his chest painfully, but he shoved it down. Swallowing hard, he said, "Aye. Yes. Please."

He gave Ghost one last thrust, then pulled out. The loss of contact left Soap bereft, so he quickly found a spot on the dirty rug on the floor and laid down. He stroked himself in the absence of Ghost and watched, fascinated, as Ghost pushed off the desk and stalked toward him. He knelt down beside Soap and hitched a knee over his middle to straddle him. 

Without a word between them, Ghost grabbed Soap's cock by the base, then guided him back inside. 

Soap grit his teeth and threw his head back. The feeling was incredibly wet and tight but lax and giving all at the same time. How did he get so fucking lucky to be able to experience this? With Ghost? He'd be eternally fucking grateful to whatever divine entity had decided to grace Soap with this experience. He’d cherish it forever. 

Clamping his hands down onto Ghost's thighs, Soap looked up at him with a tangle of emotion tightening around his chest like a steel band. Ghost's mask was still scrunched up to expose his mouth and he had the bottom of his black t-shirt tugged up and clenched between bared teeth. His flexing  stomach fascinated Soap and he couldn't resist running his hands along his warm skin. Ghost's eyes slipped closed and he began rocking his hips, his cock bobbing in time to the motion. He moved slowly at first, then rode Soap in earnest, bracing a heavy hand on Soap’s chest for leverage. 

The weight of Ghost pressing him down, the squeeze of him surrounding him, the roughness of his movements abrading Soap’s back with rug burn, the thick scent of their coupling filling the air, all of it, every single last fucking detail was scorched into his brain. He tucked it all away, hoarded it deep inside, because if this was to be the last time, the only time this would happen between them, he needed to be able to replay it over and over and over. 

Soap did his best to keep up, bucking into Ghost with a rhythm that was quickly devolving into an erratic spasm. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to focus on breathing, on feeling the moment. He didn’t want to come yet even though his body screamed and howled for it. But he honestly had no control over any of it and he had no choice. He was blazing a trail to his orgasm faster than he could possibly try to prepare himself for.  

But before he could process another thought, there was suddenly a hand enveloping his throat. Soap's eyes flew open. Ghost was locked on, his gaze dark and hard as obsidian. He gave Soap’s throat a gentle squeeze, cutting off his blood flow just enough to fade his vision at the edges. “Look at me, Johnny.” His voice was deeper than Soap had ever heard it before. “Look at me when you come.”

Soap nodded and Ghost released his neck. He pulled in a deep breath through parted lips and dug his fingers into Ghost’s thighs where he had been holding on for dear life as Ghost rode him into oblivion. Then he watched in awe while Ghost sat back, pulled his shirt up over his head, tossed it aside, and finally, finally, slipped his mask off. 

Soap’s next breath got strangled in this throat even though Ghost’s hand was no longer on his neck. His face was not what Soap was expecting but that was simply because he was far more handsome than Soap had ever envisioned. Quite the opposite indeed.

He reached a shaky hand up to Ghost's cheek, caressing his thumb across a deep scar there. Ghost nuzzled into the touch, continuing to grind down onto Soap's cock. Then he turned his head just enough to draw the tip of Soap's thumb into his mouth. 

And with that, Soap was lost.

"Ghost," he choked. His climax blazed through him like an unchecked wildfire and he slammed up into Ghost one last time, emptying deep inside him. 

But despite the frenzy of pure sensation knocking the literal breath from his lungs, Soap did not once take his eyes off Ghost. 

Ghost rode him through it, chasing his own release, swirling his hips until Soap was bordering on overstimulation. It was too much — and far from enough. Soap shuddered and took Ghost's cock in hand and pumped until Ghost was shuddering too. 

And then Ghost was coming, spurting across Soap's belly and chest. His hole constricted around Soap, still embedded inside him, and Soap moaned weakly. He was wrung out, blissed out, in the best fucking way possible. Surely, they had finally broken the drug's hold now. 

Ghost slumped down with a hoarse sigh, covering Soap's whole body with the delicious weight of him, making a mess of the spend smeared between them. Soap fought to catch his breath. He brought his hands to Ghost's broad back, sliding his fingers along the perspiration there, feeling the delicate dips and valleys of the smattering of scars peppered across his skin like a road map of his life. Soap had scars of his own, of course, and had gained many of them on missions with Ghost by his side, but he wanted to know the story behind each and every one Ghost carried. 

But he didn't even get a chance to form a question or even another thought before he was being rolled over onto his stomach. He was so numb from his post-orgasmic state he could hardly process what was happening. 

"Up on your knees for me, Johnny." Ghost's voice drifted from behind him. 

Without thinking, he complied to the command from his Lieutenant as best he could, but his arms were too shaky to support him, so he tucked his knees up under him with his arse in the air and his face resting on his forearms. And then the haze of pleasure and exhaustion lifted slightly. 

"Ghost, wait." His voice was husky and frayed. Ghost stilled behind him immediately. 

I don't think I can even get it up again he wanted to say, but he knew, just as soon as he thought it, that it was a lie. His cock was already starting to harden once more. Jesus fucking Christ, seriously?

But that wasn't his only concern at the moment. 

 "I haven't…" He swallowed, tried again. "No one's ever, uh…" How was he even embarrassed to say it after the unabashed intimacy they had been sharing? With his arse currently in the air like a bitch in heat, no less?

Ghost was quiet for a moment. "Johnny, are you trying to tell me this arsehole is untouched?" He asked breathlessly. It sent a shiver racing down Soap's spine. 

He sighed. "Aye."

"Well, we'll just have to remedy that, now won't we?" Ghost's warm hand settled on his back. "Will you let me?"

Soap screwed his eyes shut and nodded. 

"I want to hear you say it, Johnny." His hand rubbed from Soap's lower back down to cup an arse cheek. He gave it a little squeeze. 

Soap's cock throbbed and he sucked in a sharp breath. "Aye, Ghost. Yes."

In the very next moment, Ghost was spreading him open and licking a hot, wet stripe from his bollocks to his hole. Soap could not stop himself from letting out the most pathetic whimper of his life. 

He could feel Ghost smile against his skin. "Atta boy." 

The praise first went to Soap's head then straight down to his cock. Well that's interesting. He filed that little bit of information about himself away for later use. 

"Fuuuck," he moaned into his arms. He pushed his arse back at Ghost's face, quickly obsessed with the feeling of Ghost's mouth on him.

After laying a few nips and kitten licks to Soap's skin, teasing him to the point of madness, Ghost dove in earnestly. He probed his tongue against Soap's quivering hole, lapping at him over and over again. 

Crying out at the sensation, Soap rocked his hips to feel more. His brain could hardly begin to comprehend that it was Ghost back there — fucking Ghost. Was this really happening? He wasn't unconscious in a ditch somewhere dreaming this, right? 

Ghost murmured more praises against his skin and then started spearing his tongue inside, slamming Soap's focus back immediately. 

"Relax, Johnny,” he heard him say. “Let me in.”

Soap's breath hitched painfully in his chest and he concentrated all his effort on loosening up. Taking inventory of his body, he realized how tightly wound he really was. He drew in a big gulp of air then let it out slowly, allowing his muscles to go slack. 

"That's it, love," Ghost rasped against his sensitive skin. Warmth bloomed low in Soap's belly and he pushed back tentatively. 

And with that, Ghost began licking deep inside. Soap quickly became a sloppy, shuddering mess under the relentless press of Ghost's mouth. His thighs were trembling and he was moaning uncontrollably by the time Ghost was able to spear his tongue almost all the way inside.

After plunging in a few more times he pulled back, giving Soap a moment to catch his breath. “Fuckin’ hell, Johnny. Judging from the noises you’re makin’ I’d just about bet you can come from my mouth alone.”

Soap’s heart knocked heavily in his chest. He was exhausted, tapped out, but there was still an unrelenting current of arousal roiling just under the surface, demanding it all. He was starting to worry that this was how he was finally going to cark it -- fucked to death by his own Leiutenant. 

He shook his head. “I think I’ve run dry, L.t.,” he panted hoarsely.

Ghost kneaded his arse cheeks, keeping them spread open, and dipped just the tips of his thumbs into Soap’s spit-slick entrance. Soap quaked at the touch. “I believe you can, Johnny. For me.” His voice was a deep, liquid heat. Soap was struck momentarily speechless.

Ghost shifted behind him then dove back in and all Soap could do was groan against the onslaught. His cock was hard yet again, aching to be touched, aching for completion, aching more and more with each press of Ghost’s lips. Soap felt like he was about to fully lose his mind.  

He was sweating and swearing and shaking and utterly falling apart under the continued ministrations of Ghost's tongue. He wanted to come, he needed to come, he'd die if he didn't fucking come, but he just didn't know if he had another one in him. This damned drug was pushing him harder and farther than he'd ever gone before in such a short amount of time. 

"Ghost, please."

Ghost pulled his mouth from Soap's arse but only far enough to speak. "C'mon, love, I know you can do it." Soap could feel the hot rush of his breath against his already overheated skin. 

He shook his head where it was buried against his forearms. "I can't, Ghost." He was on the brink of tears. He had nothing left to give. 

“Yes, you can, Johnny,” Ghost coaxed. “I know you can.”

Soap bit back a sob. He was a soldier, his only job in this life was to follow orders, and all he wanted, the only thing he fucking wanted was to make Ghost happy. So, for Ghost, he would find a way -- for Ghost he would.

Blowing out a fractured huff, Soap squeezed his eyes shut so tightly he saw stars. He drug in one more deep breath… And then let go.

His orgasm hit him like a goddamn gut punch. He clenched up from the intensity of it, feeling like the wind was knocked clean out of him. And truly it was. He gasped air into his lungs, feeling like he had just finished running a marathon. His cock spasmed but produced only one weak spurt. Bloody fucking hell. 

"Good boy, Johnny. I knew you could do it." Ghost patted Soap’s hip gently. The soft adoration in his voice made Soap's heart soar. He'd never felt more fulfilled than he did in that moment. 

But he was also utterly knackered and could no longer hold himself up. He crashed to the floor in a graceless heap with Ghost following seconds behind, both men struggling for oxygen. Ghost pulled him in close, spooning against his back, skin to skin. 

Soap melted into him, eyes slipping closed, on the very edge of sleep. But then he felt the hard column of Ghost's cock pressing on his lower back. He looked over his shoulder, meeting Ghost's dark gaze. 

"Did you finish?" he asked. 

"Not yet." Ghost rolled his hips forward. 

Soap pulled his gaze away, huffing out an incredulous laugh. "I can't do it again, Ghost. I'm serious this time."

"You don't even have to do anything, love. Just lay still." 

Soap was about to give another protest until he felt Ghost's thick member suddenly pushing between his arse cheeks. He was still a slippery mess from Ghost's mouth so he was able to slide into the crease easily. 

"I — Oh," he moaned.

Ghost pressed heated kisses to his shoulder blade and the back of his neck. Gooseflesh prickled up his skin in the wake of Ghost’s mouth and he suppressed a shiver. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of having you like this.” He rasped the words against the sensitive shell of Soap’s ear. 

Soap shared the sentiment. He’d thought of little else since meeting Ghost. It was a shame to think that Flashbang was the only thing that finally made it happen, though Soap supposed they would have jumped each other’s bones eventually. Their stubbornness was the only thing that had stood in their way.  

Ghost’s hand snaked up over Soap’s side, then slid slowly up his chest while he rocked his hips, pistoning his cock through the wet channel of his cheeks and thighs. Soap arched into it, tangling his feet with Ghost’s, entwining their fingers together, holding on so tightly. He knew that it would all be over soon. He knew that even though the drug had made it feel like the night would never end, it would peter out at some point; it was only a matter of time. And then they would go back to the way it was before. The joking and teasing and stolen heated glances were fun to an extent. But Soap felt gutted, realizing that they would soon wash up, get dressed, and get on with their mission, chalking tonight up to nothing more than a fluke. Soap himself knew he wouldn’t -- he knew in his heart that drug or no, he had wanted this more than fucking anything. He just wasn’t sure Ghost felt the same. 

“How long?” Soap breathed, almost afraid to ask. His pulse thundered loudly, awaiting Ghost’s answer. 

Ghost tightened his hand in Soap’s where it lay right over his pounding heart. He nuzzled his lips to Soap’s ear. “Since the moment I laid eyes on you, Johnny.” He said it simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

A weight he didn’t know he’d been carrying lifted from Soap’s shoulders and he blinked back the sting of tears. He huffed out a watery chuckle and pushed back against Ghost’s next thrust forward. “Took ya long enough to finally say something, you great British bastard.”

Ghost grinned into the crook of Soap’s sweaty neck. He snapped his hips forward a little faster. “I never should have waited this long. I promise I’ll make it up to you, love.”

The very next second, Ghost came. He pushed one more time with a soft grunt, then pulsed his release, spurting the warmth of his spend between Soap’s closed thighs. It was nearly enough to make Soap climax again, nearly. He would have, if he had the strength to do it. 

They lay quietly for a few moments after that, tightly intertwined, catching their breath, until the drug demanded satisfaction yet again. Soap was not sure how he did it, but he and Ghost both came again three more times (the last two being completely dry orgasms) before the gray light of early dawn began brightening the windows of the mechanic’s shop. Each time was more spectacular and more depleting than the last, until finally, fucking finally, the drug cleared their system. 

Soap had hoped they would be able to rest after that unending night, because he had never been more drained in his entire life, but of course they were not quite so lucky. Having only just barely thrown their clothes, boots, and tactical gear back on, Ghost and Soap were forced to fight their way out the back exit when a group of Shadows burst into the shop, because why the fuck not.

They were somehow able to find a working vehicle in the alley to Soap’s utter surprise. At least there was that. After he jumped into the passenger seat and Ghost cranked the engine, they shared one heated, albeit exhausted, kiss, and peeled away from the encroaching enemy. 

Soap gave his middle finger out the truck window to the shop as they sped down the alley amongst a hail of gunfire. Ghost laughed heartily beside him, pulling his mask back in place. 

“Get me to the nearest bed fucking bed you can find, L.t,” he sighed, flopping back against his seat. He couldn’t remember a time in his life he had been so tired. 

“You’re not sick of me yet?” Ghost asked, amused. One hand gripped the steering wheel while the other cupped his crotch suggestively. 

Soap turned in his seat, shaking a threatening finger at him. “Ghost, I swear to fucking Christ, if you don’t keep that cock away from me for the next two days at least, I will break your fucking nose.” Soap was sore everywhere, from his scalp to his heels, and he was not joking. 

“What, and risk ruining this handsome face?” Ghost rumbled, a cheeky grin clear in his voice. He turned the truck out of the alley and onto a side street. 

“I’ll take my chances.” Soap crossed his arms like a petulant child and sank down into his seat. He was already feeling the heavy pull of sleep trying to claim him. Looking out his window, he watched the rising sun peek over the horizon. There was not a cloud in the sky -- a stark contrast to the ceaseless rainstorm yesterday. 

“Well, what about after two days?” Ghost’s voice drifted over to him. The rough timber of it coiled warmly in Soap’s stomach.  

He pulled his gaze away from the window and centered it on Ghost beside him. His heart fluttered when Ghost met his eyes for a moment before looking back to the road. “After two days, L.t., when I’ve had some time to recuperate, I’m all yours. As long as there’s no fucking Flashbang involved.”

Ghost chuckled deeply and gave Soap a little salute. “Copy that, MacTavish. Copy that.”

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Sir Vival, the two-piece safety Hudson

Sir Vival, Walter Jerome's Hudson-based concept for the ultimate safety car, last moved under its own power sometime around when he showed the car at the New York World's Fair in 1964 or 1965. Since then, it's been split apart, reassembled, shuffled all over eastern Massachusetts, and remained hidden more or less in plain sight, but nobody's made an attempt to get it running again. That'll change now that longtime owner Ed Moore of Bellingham Auto Sales has sold Sir Vival to Jeff Lane of the Lane Motor Museum.

"It'll be the perfect fit," Lane said. "I've been pestering him about it for a while."

Moore, as we reported in November, has decided to close the doors at Bellingham, which he considers the last active Hudson dealership in the world, and has been either selling off his inventory of cars and parts or transferring portions of his lifelong collection to his house nearby.

In 1958, Worcester-based Walter Jerome decided it was about time somebody built a car designed primarily for safety and not for looks or speed. Rapidly increasing numbers of highway deaths - especially in the postwar period - led many to call for greater automotive safety as early as 1947, but the response from Detroit was tepid at best throughout the Fifties. Ford made a few gestures at improving automotive safety, including funding a study on safety cars at Cornell, but it largely fell to independents and individuals to build cars with safety features designed into the vehicle.

Jerome decided to start with a step-down Hudson - which he bought from Bellingham - and split it into two sections "to anticipate the possibility of collision from any angle." Similar to Bela Barenyi's idea for the crumple zone, Jerome intended the front section, mounted via a hinge to the rear section, to absorb a collision rather than deflect one, noting that the rigidity of typical cars was what led to injuries and deaths in collisions. To each of the two sections, Jerome added steel bumpers that acted, in his words, like a second frame, and rubber bumpers around the steel designed to redirect all but direct collisions. Yes, he built a full-size bumper car.

He didn't stop there. The driver controlled the car from a turret-mounted central driver's seat surrounded by a "full circle" windshield for greater visibility. (According to Jerome's literature, the windshield itself rotated past stationary windshield wipers as part of Jerome's quest for maximum driver visibility.) The exterior is fitted with high-visibility marker and signal lamps; the parallelogram doors are designed not to pop open in a crash; and the interior features seat belts, padding, and even a rollbar.

"It is all too obvious that Detroit has no plans to come up with anything really new," Jerome wrote. "Their 1964 cars are already on the drawing boards and spring from the same rigid frames. I hold that human life is important, far more important than Detroit's worry about the cost of retooling to produce an automobile which will save human lives. Adoption of the flexible Sir Vival design would make rigid vehicles obsolete and create a new market, almost immediately, for 65 million vehicles."

Moore and his family assisted Jerome over the years with Sir Vival, including one episode Moore recalls in which he went to Worcester to retrieve the vehicle from the fourth floor of a warehouse, where Jerome had stored it in two pieces, so it could be reassembled and transported to Jerome's house on Cape Cod. After Jerome's death in the early 1970s, the Moores took possession of Sir Vival and brought it back to Bellingham. While Moore had hoped Sir Vival would have gone to Eldon Hostetler's Hudson museum, it turned out fortuitous that he didn't donate it to Hostetler, given that the museum was closed and liquidated in 2018. Sir Vival has thus primarily sat in its pride of place in Bellingham Auto Sales's garage ever since.

"It needs gone right through," Moore said. "It's not really something I want to take home and just let it sit there. Jeff, he's the guy who'd really appreciate it. He'll build it and do it right."

Lane said he's only seen Sir Vival once in person, when he spent an entire day up at Bellingham Auto Parts four or five years ago. "I recall it as not terrible, but also not in great condition," he said. "It's not like it's been outside for 40 years, rusting away." While he won't have a more definitive plan about what to do with Sir Vival until he picks it up later this month, he said he wants to go through it mechanically without restoring the entire car, if possible.

"I'd say the closest it comes to any other vehicle in the (Lane Motor Museum's) collection is the Dymaxion," Lane said. "It's a really interesting story but it's really been pretty much hidden away from the general public."

Moore, for his part, said he'll continue selling Hudsons from his home garage even after the Bellingham Auto Sales property becomes a warehouse. "I still have my new and used car licenses," he said. "I know I can't keep them all, but I've tried."

UPDATE (6.January 2023): The Lane has started restoration on Sir Vival, according to a Facebook post from the museum. "Sir Vival has been separated into two pieces, and the automotive archaeology begins!"

[magicwingslisten]

"Later, Wu Guanzhong's paintings saved me. He painted in oils and left behind a large number of realistic landscapes of the Jiangnan region. Following this inspiration, I finally discovered that the Jiangnan classical gardens were what I had been searching for, the aesthetic system that "Ripe Town" desired. The framing of these gardens is the composition, and the beauty is achieved through the use of layers and depth. Most of these gardens are small in size, but by changing one's perspective, the scenery changes. This is akin to camera movement. The interior and exterior views in the gardens are connected through open doors and windows, creating a sense of penetration." Wang Zheng, screenwriter and director of "Ripe Town"

繁城之下 Ripe Town · 2023

[vee-vee-writes]

I Need a Hero (Thorin x reader)

A/N: Potentially going to make this into a series if people are interested. Also I have finished a part 2 to Floral Arrangements but I am stuck away from my usual PC so it will be a week or so until I get it up sorry.

You’d heard tales of a lost prince trapped within his mountain home, guarded by a fire breathing dragon. Legend said that the one to free Prince Durin would be blessed by Mahal himself to eternal happiness and all the other joys a dwarf could imagine. It was then of no surprise to you that the remining Dwarf Lords sent their sons and daughters to free the dwarven prince. None were successful and no word had been heard from them since.

What shocked you was your Lord’s command, sending you to try to recover the prince. You were a member of the royal guard, but you certainly weren’t the most notable of the guard by any means. Going would be a death sentence but refusing your Lord’s request was treason of the highest degree. With heavy reluctance you undertook the two-day journey to Erebor.

You found yourself at the foot of the mountain, wondering if this place would be your tomb. A cold stone mausoleum. With your mule tied down you made your way to the makeshift rickety wooden bridge up to the entrance. The original stone bridge and much of the entrance had fallen away, whether to time or the dragon’s rampage you were not sure. From the size of the hole in the entrance, you assumed that the dragon had smashed through it on the day of the siege. To survive this, you would have to have your guard up.

Creeping forward through the entrance you began to survey the interior entrance, looking for some sign of where you should go. Your Lord had shown you an old map of Erebor from during its heyday. Amongst the litter of broken stones, melted metal, and scattered skeletal bones you saw what looked to be a large stone sign laying amongst it. Scanning around you saw no sign of life. Taking this as a sign you stealthily crept over to read it. MARKET. THRONE ROOM. GREAT HALL. LIVING QUARTERS. ROYAL WING – were all marked out on the sign. Your mental map of the mountain layout was somewhat correct, you would need to head down the left-hand tunnel to the royal wing. The entrance to the wing was further back in the room,

Heading to the left wing you began climbing over a pile of rubble to get through the entrance. The material was like nothing you had ever felt before, firm underhand and unshifting. It was not until the pile moved, letting out a chuckle that made you freeze in place. “Of all the witless fools who have entered my mountain, never have I had one practically walk into my jaws” the pile puffed in amusement. Scrambling off to the other side and tumbling to your feet in the hallway of the beginning of the royal wing you began to run. “Flee, flee, run for your life, there is nowhere to hide from my fiery death.”

The pile had not been a pile at all but the great dragon Smaug who had cloaked himself in shadows. Looking over your shoulder as you fled you looked on in horror as the dragon began to force his body through the doorway, cracking the stone to fit his bulbous body through. Facing forward once again, you squeezed your eyes shut and mustered all the strength and will within yourself to continue faster without looking back, skidding around corners without slipping over.

After an eternity of running, you came before a door at the end of the long corridor. You heard the dragon in the distance behind you, wriggling its body down the corridor like a great wyrm. Not wanting to take the chance that he may catch you, you pushed the great oaken door open and slipped in.

The golden torch light took you off guard, you hadn’t expected to actually find the prince let alone find him by mistake. A large spacious suite was laid out before you, completely untouched by the devastation you’d seen in the entrance way. On one of the couches staring at you in awe was a dark haired and bearded dwarf of substantial build and handsome profile. You were unsure of what to say to him.

It was he who broke the silence, “Sixty-years. Sixty-years I have not seen another living soul though I have heard the echoes of their screams. Thank you, I am indebted to you. Who may I call my hero.” Smiling warmly at the young prince you answered his query, “I am (Y/N) of (Y/K/N). I was sent by my Lord to recover you your highness.” “(Y/N)” he tasted the syllables of your name on his tongue, “a noble name.” Never had you heard of a noble of your name but for the sake of argument you agreed, you would need the co-operation of the prince if the two of you were to survive.

“Tell me (Y/N)” he paused, “how did you slay the beast?” A loud grumbling roar reverberated on the stone surrounding the pair of you, the dragon neared. Thorin stared at your slacked jaw in disbelief. “You didn’t slay the dragon! The prophecy says you are supposed to slay the dragon before you rescue me” Thorin snapped, “no, no, no, this is all wrong.” “We don’t have time for this your highness. We have to go” you pleaded motioning to the window, "or do you want to be stuck here for another sixty years." Pulling his lips back in a snarl Thorin grunted, “you’ve given me no choice. What’s your plan?” “Where does this window lead?” you questioned. “The courtyard after the entrance. It was built to wow our foreign visitors.”

“Exactly where we need to be. If that doesn't work, we head for the secret tunnel. That's our escape. We just have to avoid the dragon until we reach it. I doubt he knows of its existence.” You mused. “Secret tunnel?” Thorin questioned doubtfully. “Mmhm. Built by Thror when he founded your mountain home and kept secret from all but his heir. I’m surprised that he never told you of it. Though I’m sure when it came time, Thrain would have told you all the Kingly secrets of this place” you affirmed to Thorin, “come now, enough talking. Let’s tie the sheets together and escape your stone prison.”

The two of you worked quickly together knotting sheets, cloak, and shirt alike to make a long enough chain to escape the tower. You scaled the tower first, checking for any sign of the dragon before beckoning the prince down. Neither of you dared call out for fear of alerting Smaug to your scheme. Instead, you crept into the airy silence, staying low to the ground out of fear of being spotted.

The longer the two of you crept in silence, the more worried the two of you grew. It was the clatter of golden coins bouncing off the stone floor beside you that shook the two of you. Simultaneously your eyes met the prince’s, both wide as dinner plates, before gazing up to the dragon's belly above you as he slunk through the castle.

The two of you lay prone on the floor mapping out the course the dragon was taking. Crawling close to Thorin you pressed in against his side and leaned over to whisper into his ear, "We follow the dragon. Keep low, keep quiet. It's heading in the direction we need to go." Thorin nodded in response and the two of you headed off, crawling after the dragon.

You crept like that for what felt like hours, scared even to breathe too loudly, and alerted the dragon to your presences. Finally, the dragon stopped just before the gate, staring out over the nearby land, likely surveying for the two of you. Thorin nudged you and gestured at a cove of rock that the two of you could cover in. With a firm nod the two of you made your way over and got comfy, waiting the dragon out. It would be easier to wait him out than it would to make for the hidden entrance now.

Though it seemed that Thorin didn't quite have the same idea. Instead, the darrow grabbed a huge hunk of broken rock, vaulting it as far as he could back into the entrance way before quickly hunkering in with you. Smaug's head snapped around to the source of the sound and he began to stalk across towards it. Neither of you had expected was for the dragon to pause before whipping around and breathing molten fire across the entrance way debris. With a satisfied smirk he turned back around and stomped down the hallway, disappearing around the corner into the darkness.

"What now" Thorin whispered harshly. "We could have waited him out" you grumped with a pointed look, "but now we have to find another way up and out around the fire." Thorin sighed with a defeated look and nodded, gesturing for you to take the lead. "Move as fast as you can while still being quiet. The last thing we want to do is tip the beast off to our location, he's already suspicious of us" you affirmed before taking the lead out towards the flaming gate.

You scanned frantically around the entrance looking for a way around the flame. Thorin gripped your shoulder, "focus." Drawing a deep breath, you narrowed your focus. Homing in on the wall you found an old half rusted chain fixed to one of the walls. "That's our way out come on."

A tug on the chain caused it to groan but it stayed fixed in place. Signaling upwards you spoke to Thorin, "You first. I'll stay down here and keep looking out as you climb." "Let me get this straight, you want me, the crown prince, to climb an old, rusted chain up a forty-foot wall hoping that a) I don't fall and b) that I don't get spotted by a fire breathing drake that you failed to kill" Thorin huffed. Smiling sarcastically, you answered, "exactly. Now unless you want to be stuck here even longer, get up the wall. Besides there's no guarantee that the chain will hold two of us."

Rolling his eyes at you Thorin begrudgingly took the chain and began scaling the wall. On edge you clenched your teeth, scanning for any sight of the scaly magot. Groaning of the chain caused your breath to catch in your throat. While you wanted the prince out of the mountain and safe, you hardly wanted to be stuck within the mountain crawling around looking for another way out while the dragon stalked around looking for you. You leaned tensely against the wall, begging your body and mind to calm themselves for the sake of your survival.

The familiar clink of a coin hitting the concrete shot you out of your thoughts, though this time it bounced and rolled to land off to your side. Frightenedly, you cast your eyes upwards only to find Thorin at the top of the wall trying to signal he was ready for you to make your way up.  Grabbing the chain you began the climb, hauling yourself up your limbs groaning as the tension was forcefully stretched out of them. Higher and higher you climbed, stopping only briefly to steady your grip on the vertical drop. All the time you stared upwards to the top of the wall, meeting the prince's anxious gaze.

Nearing the top Thorin reached an arm down to you, helping you over and up on the top of the exterior wall. The two of you smiled briefly at one another as he helped you up to your feet. You watched his face change as he looked out over the remains of Dale and the changed wilds. Most would have turned their noses up in horror, but Thorin gazed on in wonder, the edges of his mouth turning up into an appreciative smile. He hadn't seen the outside world since the Sack you realised. You knew it was only a small gesture, but you laid a comforting hand on his, stroking his palm gently. Thorin looked at you tenderly, taking in the touch of another being and the sight of your hand within his. "Welcome back to the world Thorin Durin."

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[tagedeszorns]

An AU where Fabius is a Hollywood plastic surgeon.

Where this sudden change of heart came from and why - it's better not to ask when luck favours you so much. An interview with Hollywood's most sought-after, exclusive and undoubtedly most reclusive facesculptor! Well, at least initially with his spokesperson? Assistant? No explanation was given and there is nothing on the tasteful, very blank business card. Not even an email address. Or a telephone number. Anyone who has to ask for it hasn't understood how things work around here.

So now this lobby in a building far enough removed from the city to have an undisturbed hill overlooking the Pacific to itself (presumably at the price of the gross national product of a Central American country). A strangely brutalist-beautiful house that looks like a James Bond villain gave Aldo Rossi free rein.

Dr Bile has never before answered an interview request, let alone positively: why now, of all times, and from a magazine that is not exactly Lancet - it is inexplicable!

It is not particularly inviting yet. Two women who could not be more different and yet look equally unreal without flaunting the artificiality of too much plastic surgery stand with the noncommittal vigilance of born bodyguards at the doorway to the deeper interior of the building. One is downright bizarrely tall, her platinum blonde hair in an expensive cut that shows off her facial features, which are not one hundred percent even in just the right way, to their best advantage. She radiates a deadly elegance that makes it clear that even though she wears strangely blocky high heels that almost turn her feet into hooves (they must be shoes!), in a critical situation she would strike with the ruthlessness of a pouncing snake. Like her colleague, she wears a tailored dark suit in the price range called for by the tailors of the Vatican. No logo on the clothes. Of course there isn't. The winged double helix is only present as an isolated pattern in the dark carpet and on the wall. The other woman is clearly smaller, but more compact. Her muscular composure is punctuated by a couple of almost ceremonial-looking, tremendously precise scars that do not disfigure her face but rather indicate her businesslike nature. Something that her pixie cut and broad, sinewy hands emphasise.

"Ah, good afternoon! Welcome to the Consortium!" Perfectly articulated, flawless. Yet a very slight echo of the rounded consonants of Farsi or Pashtu.

The man stepping out of the doorway is not the doctor. Of course he isn't. But our journalist has done his homework. So this is him. His .. Press officer? Assistant? Marketing manager? It was impossible to figure out. But he is what stands between Dr Bile and the world.

His smile is practised and smooth, his olive-dark features regular. As he reaches out, the sleeve of the Desmond Merrion suit slides up just the right distance to expose the beginnings of the fine lines of a calligraphic tattoo. As if he actually deals with visitors every day, he ushers him to the passageway between the two women. A corridor with old copperplate engravings showing the most prominent buildings of various medical faculties. Tastefully dimmed spotlights create a withdrawn atmosphere. Further back, a few more doors can be seen and at the very end, a double door upholstered in leather. "My name is Saqqara Ur-Damak Thresh and today I am here to answer all your questions."

Of course, this is a lie. But perhaps it is possible to draw enough substance from his answers to get closer to the Doctor's mystery.

His office. Not the doctor's study, of course. And "office" is only a very marginal term. There is an empty desk and a very utilitarian seating area. And bookshelves on the walls. On all the walls. Filled with volumes of all sizes and ages, obviously not just placed for decorative purposes.

Not what you would expect. But actually, you can expect nothing and everything here.

The only wall not filled with literature is a floor-to-ceiling window that looks out over the conifer-forested hills and driveway. Just before Mr Thresh makes an inviting hand gesture towards the couch, a black Maybach with tinted windows pulls up. Stops in front of the entrance. On the door a gold logo. An eye in a circle of arrows. Ah, of course the clientele here is also special.

On the low table between the two couches is a silver tea set. Mr Thresh pours, quite the good host. Everything here is at once completely ceremonial and absolutely authentic.

"I hope your journey was pleasant. Of course, as always, time is short. But rest assured - for the next hour, my attention is entirely yours!"

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

Okay. So. I am absolutely obsessed with the premises of this AU! I haven't barely scratched the surface (I mean, Saqqara, Savona, Igori and a hint of Abaddon is nothing!) and it's already an entire page of text.

So - if anybody is interested, I will write more about this AU. There are a lot of people who have to make an appearance - especially of course the Doctor himself!

[june-gdprototyping]

What Industries Is Injection Molding(Moulding) Applicable To?

Injection moulding is a common manufacturing process by injecting molten plastic material into a mould so that it can be formed into the desired product shape upon cooling.

Injection moulding process has the advantages of low cost, high production efficiency and stable product quality to make it widely used in various industries. In this vast injection moulding market, there are three industries are particularly eye-catching, which are extensively used for production and manufacturing due to their specific needs and product characteristics.

1.Household Appliance Manufacturing Industry

As an indispensable part of people's daily life, the market demand for household appliances is stable and continuously growing. The injection moulding process plays a pivotal role in the manufacturing of household appliances, from the outer shell to the internal components, injection moulding technology provides key support. Most of the exterior and structural components of home appliances, such as TV remote controls, refrigerators, TV sets, air-conditioning panels, and washing machine shells, are manufactured by injection molding process.

2.Automotive Components Industry & Transportation Sector

With the booming development of the automotive industry, the auto components and parts market has ushered in unprecedented development opportunities. Components and parts such as automotive dashboards, door interior panels, bumpers, and lamp housings as well as a wide range of pipework and connections are made through the injection moulding process. These parts require not only high precision and good mechanical properties, but also need to meet the strict appearance requirements, which injection moulding process is precisely by virtue of its unique advantages, in this field to occupy a place. In addition, with the rise of new energy vehicles, injection moulded parts play an important role in the manufacturing of key components such as battery packs and motor housings.

3.Medical Device Industry

With the increasing emphasis on health, the market demand for medical devices continues to grow. In medical device manufacturing, the injection moulding process is used to produce disposable medical devices such as syringes, infusion tubes and surgical instruments. These products require strict quality control and hygiene standards, and injection moulding process ensures product safety and effectiveness.

In addition, the injection moulding process is also widely used in the electrical and electronic industry, consumer electronics, packaging industry, toy manufacturing, construction materials, industrial parts, furniture and household furnishings and agriculture, among many others.

4.Electrical & Electronic Industry

In the manufacturing process of electronic products, many components such as housings, cases, sockets, connectors, cables, switches and holders for electronic circuit boards need to be manufactured by injection moulding process. Injection moulding process can achieve precise control of product appearance, size and structure, to meet the requirements of electronic products for appearance quality, functionality and reliability.

5.Consumer Electronics Industry

In the electronics industry, injection moulded parts are equally widely used. From mobile phone housings, computer components including keyboards and mice to remote controls and battery cases, the injection moulding process offers a wide variety of appearance and structure options for electronic products. These components not only need to have good mechanical properties and appearance, but also need to have excellent electrical insulation properties to ensure the stable operation of electronic products. Injection moulding technology occupies an important position in the manufacture of electronic products due to its advantages of high precision and low cost.

6.Construction Sector

In the construction field, injection moulded parts also have a wide range of applications, the drainage systems, door and window frames, pvc pipes, valves, wire troughs, insulation materials and other construction materials and accessories are mostly manufactured by injection moulding process. These components are not only high-strength and corrosion-resistant, but also weather-resistant and easy to install, meeting the construction industry's requirements for material performance and ease of use and improve construction efficiency and aesthetics. The application of injection moulding technology in the construction field not only improves the performance and quality of construction materials, but also promotes the sustainable development of the construction industry.

7.Packaging Industry

The packaging and container industry is also one of the key application areas for injection moulding processes. Plastic bottles, food boxes, cosmetic bottles, plastic bags and other packaging containers are mostly manufactured by injection moulding process to meet food safety and aesthetic requirements. These containers need to be well-sealed, drop-resistant, retain freshness and recyclable to ensure that the products are safe and environmentally friendly. Injection moulding processes can offer flexible design and manufacturing options to adapt to different packaging needs and provide strong support for the development of the packaging industry.

These areas above are just a few examples of the application areas of the injection moulding process. In the toy industry, injection moulded parts are used to manufacture a variety of plastic toys; In the textile and clothing industry, injection moulded parts are used to manufacture accessories such as zips and buttons; In the agricultural sector, injection moulded parts are used to manufacture agricultural tools and equipment such as sprayers and watering cans; Even in the aerospace sector, injection moulded parts are also used to manufacture parts for aircraft and spacecraft. It can be said that injection moulded parts have penetrated into almost every corner of our life.

In summary, injection moulded parts play an important role in several industries by virtue of their high precision, low cost and wide applicability. The application of injection moulding process in these areas not only improves production efficiency, but also meets the needs of product diversification and individualisation. With the continuous progress of science and technology and the continuous improvement of people's requirements on product quality, injection moulding technology will continue to be widely used and developed in various fields.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This is such an interesting home- it's also "off market." Not surprising that the 1986 contemporary in Spokane, WA hasn't sold- the interior design is not apt to appeal to many. 4bds, 4ba, $1,091,995. Let's have a look.

Walk thru the entrance double doors and there's an opening for the living room, but the other walls are glass windows. There's another opening down the hall, but inside there are maze-like columns.

The living room has a large window seat and 2 steps up to another area.

The carpet and wood floors look like roads. To the side there's a dining area, but then there's this sitting area with a unique floor.

This is an entertaining area- there's a bar off to the side.

You'll see where it looks down on, later.

The layout here is the kitchen in the middle, dining room to the right, and everyday dining to the left.

Standard white kitchen with a chef's stove.

A den/family room with a nice fireplace and built-ins. Door to the deck. I like the fan. This home is nice, IMO, but there's so much to clean- the carpet.

The deck continues around the side of the house as a terrace.

The primary bedroom is huge with an elevated sitting area.

The en-suite has a glass block wall and one of those annoying step up tubs.

Walk-in closet.

Secondary bedroom is an average size.

It has its own en-suite.

One of the smaller bedrooms is a den.

Rec room beside the indoor pool. Why did they brick up that fireplace?

It's a lap pool. A lot of people want a regular pool. Note the ceiling. Have you seen it before? That's the floor in the living area upstairs, so it's over the pool. Above are windows to the floor above.

The owner has gym equipment off to the side and there's also a hot tub.

The pool room opens to the patio.

One of the other rooms opens to the patio, also, and there's the long terrace above.

.74 acre lot. Maybe if you get friendly w/the neighbors, you can use their pool.

https://www.redfin.com/WA/Spokane/7713-E-Gunning-Ln-99212/home/116240811

[lyncotek]

The Role of Glass Graphics in Branding and Corporate Identity

In today’s competitive business landscape, establishing a strong brand identity is essential for standing out and making a lasting impression on customers. While branding encompasses various elements, one often overlooked aspect is the use of glass graphics. In this article, we’ll explore how glass graphics play a pivotal role in shaping corporate identity and enhancing brand recognition.

2. The Importance of Visual Identity in Branding Visual identity serves as the face of a brand, communicating its values, personality, and positioning to the target audience. Consistency in visual elements helps in brand recall and fosters trust and loyalty among consumers.

3. How Glass Graphics Enhance Corporate Identity    Reflecting Brand Values and Personality Glass graphics offer a unique opportunity to showcase brand values and personality traits. Whether it’s through bold typography, vibrant colors, or subtle imagery, the design elements can convey the essence of the brand to visitors and employees alike.

Creating Memorable Impressions First impressions matter, and glass graphics can leave a lasting impact on anyone who interacts with them. A well-designed glass entrance with the company logo welcomes visitors with elegance and professionalism, setting the tone for their entire experience.

4. Incorporating Glass Graphics in Physical Spaces    Reception Areas and Entrances The reception area is often the first point of contact for visitors. By incorporating glass graphics into the entrance doors or reception desk, companies can reinforce their brand identity and leave a positive impression on guests.

Office Interiors and Meeting Rooms Glass partitions or walls can be transformed into branding opportunities within office interiors and meeting rooms. Whether it’s displaying motivational quotes, showcasing company achievements, or reinforcing brand values, glass graphics add visual interest while maintaining privacy.

5. Digital Presence and Glass Graphics Website Design and Visual Elements Consistency in branding across both physical and digital platforms is crucial for brand recognition. Integrating glass graphics into website design, such as using translucent overlays or incorporating glass-inspired motifs, can create a seamless brand experience for online visitors.

Social Media Branding Incorporating glass graphics into social media branding, such as profile pictures, cover photos, or branded filters, helps maintain a cohesive brand presence across various social media channels.

6. Case Studies: Successful Examples of Glass Graphics in Branding Highlighting real-life examples of companies effectively using glass graphics in their branding strategies can provide inspiration and insights into best practices for implementation.

7. Challenges and Considerations in Implementing Glass Graphics Budgeting and Costs While glass graphics offer numerous benefits, they also come with associated costs. Companies need to consider budget constraints and weigh the return on investment when implementing glass graphics in their branding efforts.

Maintenance and Longevity Glass surfaces require regular maintenance to ensure their pristine appearance. Factors such as cleaning methods, durability of materials, and exposure to external elements need to be taken into account to maintain the longevity of glass graphics.

9. Conclusion In conclusion, glass graphics play a vital role in branding and corporate identity by reflecting brand values, creating memorable impressions, and maintaining consistency across physical and digital platforms. By strategically incorporating glass graphics into their spaces, companies can enhance brand recognition, foster customer loyalty, and differentiate themselves in the market.

FAQs Are glass graphics suitable for all types of businesses? Glass graphics can be tailored to suit various industries and business sizes, depending on their branding objectives and budget considerations.

How long do glass graphics typically last? The longevity of glass graphics depends on factors such as the quality of materials used, maintenance practices, and exposure to external elements. With proper care, they can last for many years.

Can glass graphics be removed or updated easily? Yes, glass graphics can be removed or updated relatively easily, making them a flexible branding solution for evolving businesses.

Are there any limitations to using glass graphics in branding? While glass graphics offer versatility and aesthetic appeal, companies need to consider factors such as budget constraints, space limitations, and maintenance requirements before incorporating them into their branding strategy.

How can I find a reputable provider for glass graphics? Researching and consulting with experienced providers specializing in glass graphics and branding can help businesses find the right solutions tailored to their needs and budget.

[rosella-writes]

Hey, happy Friday! I submit "nudging the other one" for Solas/Cassandra :)

Thank you!! For @dadrunkwriting, rated G, featuring a bakery inspired by this fic by @dreadfutures

~~~

The Orlesian sun was hot, but not the sort that left Cassandra feeling as if she were laid upon a fire — it made her feel relaxed and loose-limbed, even within her gambeson. At the Inquisitor’s request, they had left their armour and weapons with the Inquisition agents within the city. Today, Bryn had stated, was a day for them and them alone. 

The Val Royeaux market bustled. Wide skirts jockeyed for room, heels clacked upon the cobblestones, and the feathers upon hats bobbed and waved at eye-level for many in their party. Bryn alone seemed immune to the reach of these ornaments. They were a foot taller than most in the crowd, and moved easily enough by virtue of their size and status. Cassandra and Solas followed close in their wake, taking advantage of the space. Cole, Cassandra supposed, remained nearby but out of sight. 

Among the many battling scents of perfumes, leatherwork, sun-heated fruit, and flowers came a familiar fragrance — Cassandra turned on her heel, searching for it. She reached out without thinking and caught at Solas’s sleeve. 

“Oh,” she gasped. “Do you smell that?”

The apostate looked at her with an incredulous expression. “Yes, Seeker, whatever it is I assure you I am being assailed by it.”

She scoffed. “It is sweet. It reminds me of a treat I have not had in years. Inquisitor?”

Bryn glanced over at them, their eyes calm and placid and their brows raised in a silent question. They cocked their horned head to the side. 

“Do you see a pâtisserie?”

Recognition dawned, and they suddenly cast their gaze over Cassandra and Solas’s heads. They did not need to stand on tiptoes in order to see, but they rose upon them almost out of habit. Their lips parted as they searched — they suddenly pointed and said, in their gentle voice, “Over there, by the modiste.”

Excitement surged within Cassandra at that, along with another waft of the familiar, mouth-watering scent of baked goods. Bryn’s face warmed when they looked back down at her. 

“Go on ahead without me,” they said. “I want to see what’s in this shop at the end. Meet at the center of the square in a half hour?”

Cassandra glanced at Solas, who looked cautiously interested now. Cole’s hat bobbed near his ear as the spirit passed by and drew close to Bryn’s side. 

“The baker is proud of them today,” Cole said simply, his voice nearly swallowed up by the noise of the crowd. “La crème est absolument parfaite en tous points. You should try the cannelé.” 

They listened — Cole remained at Bryn’s side as the latter made their way towards the stalls, while Cassandra and Solas entered the shadowed interior of the bakery. They blinked away the brightness of the sun and basked in the new warmth, that of ovens and fresh pastry and bread rather than hot sun. Waft after waft of that delicious, sweet scent of baked flour and sugar and butter filled Cassandra’s nose and throat, and she found herself swallowing down her desire for such Orlesian treats. 

The patisserie was crowded, enough so that Solas had to turn to keep his broad shoulders from grazing against their fellow customers as they approached the glass cases near the back of the shop. They were surrounded by the rolling sounds of conversations held in Orlesian, with the odd bit of Antivan and Trade mixed in at the fringes — when another customer entered the shop behind them, Cassandra heard a new swell of the Chant sung from the abbey at the center of the city before the door swung back shut. 

A nudge — Solas’s elbow was sharp, but he prodded her gently with it. She would not have felt it if she were still armoured. “What are these?”

She followed his pointed finger with a surprised gaze. “Do you not recognise any of them?”

“They are…” he seemed to search for the word. He raised a finger to his chin and frowned. 

Cassandra gazed up at him with a slight smile, feeling fondness wash through her that was as warm and sweet as the smell of burnt sugar. “Think of them as… frilly cakes, I suppose.”

The attendant behind the case shot her a dirty look, but she paid him no mind. 

“Pick one,” she urged. “My treat.”

Solas glanced down at her — a mere flick of pale eyes beneath long lashes, shadowed by the dim light in this bakery. His mouth curved in a surprised, private smile behind the crook of his finger as he contemplated. 

“Which did Cole say we should try?” he finally asked. 

Cassandra nodded. “Deux cannelés s'il vous plait, mon ser.”

They left the bakery with their paper-wrapped cannelés in hand, as Cassandra wished for Solas to try his out of sight of the Orlesian baker who might be insulted if he enjoyed them in the wrong way. They tucked away against a fountain, taking their seats on the mortared edge, knee to knee. Cassandra eagerly unwrapped hers and took a large, unceremonious bite. 

“Maker,” she groaned happily. She almost snorted custard out of her nose at the sight of Solas regarding his, and hurriedly swallowed. “Try it!”

He looked at her with trusting eyes as he lifted the flute-shaped cake to his mouth — he held his spare hand beneath it to catch crumbs, and looked for all the world like a man out of his element. She tried to remember if she’d seen him enjoy eating anything before. She could hear the caramelised exterior crunch as he bit it. 

Solas’s eyebrows flew up his forehead as he took in that first bite, and his eyes shone. Cassandra laughed outright — not to mock him, but to delight in his reaction. 

“You look as if you have never tasted anything sweet before!” she chuckled. She took another bite, then spoke irreverently around it. “These are my favourite. Cole’s advice was indeed good.”

For once, Solas was too occupied to retort with anything scathing. He finished the cannelé slowly, as if savouring each moment of it. Only then did he clear his throat and look up at her, a multitude of barely-discernible expressions crossing his angled face. 

“Thank you,” he finally said. He wiped his long, pale fingers clean with the paper the cannelés came folded in, and seemed almost mournful that they were gone. “I liked that very much.”

Cassandra chuckled, then rose and extended her hand. “You are welcome. Now come, let us find the Inquisitor.”

Solas smiled sincerely then, and accepted her helping hand to his feet.

[simlicious]

Are you up for a challenge?

Hey everyone,

I’m looking for people who are interested in making an inviting, festive holiday scenery/picture in a sims game of your choice that conveys a Christmas Cheer/Winter Wonderland atmosphere for my Advent calendar. I am going to make one with Sims 3 contents; pretty much cold-turkey, like last time. I feel like I need a challenge again and it has been hard, but so rewarding! The contents of the calendar are my priority right now, and you can help me by make it look pretty from the outside! In short, I am looking for "simlish” Advent calendar image submissions from you! If that sounds fun to you, read on!

I know it’s a lot of text, but please read everything before you agree to  participate so you know what requirements are needed!

Benefits that await you:

You would receive credit, of course, and have total creative freedom. The image should convey Christmas Cheer and/or Winter Wonderland atmosphere. A quiet winter scene, a bustling Christmas market, a cozy interior shot, something entirely different? You decide! And you can use as much or as little CC you want. The image has to be based on a Sims-game screenshot, but you can edit it if you want. If there is more than one person interested/writing to me at the same time, I will swap out the image throughout the calendar’s runtime, so all participants get equal “screen time”. This would make the calendar even more special, so do not feel discouraged if you see that someone else already wants to make an image.

Technical things to keep in mind:

The calendar doors will be transparent so you can see behind it. Once a door is opened, it is opaque. That means that the more doors are opened, the lesser the background image will be visible. The doors will appear on the center of the calendar, so there is room left and right for some always-visible details though (at least on a desktop, not sure about mobile devices), so you might want to put special details on the sides of the image.

This cluttered mess was last year’s calendar image, I’m sure you can do better though! The image should be at least 1920x1080 pixels in size, but can also be larger. I may make slight adjustments to your image in Photoshop (nothing major, just lighting/contrast/color adjustments) to elevate it even further, but feel free to make some edits yourself, or hand in the image straight from the game, however you like it. If you took screenshots in multiple angles and can’t decide which of them to use, you can send them all to me and let me choose.

How to participate

If you are interested, please comment on this post or write a dm and tell me you want to participate. After informing me, you can start on the image right away, no need to wait for my confirmation.

How to submit

You can hand in the images via e-mail (simlicious[at]gmx.de) or upload them somewhere and send me the link via dm or an ask. In case you choose the e-mail option, please notify me via a direct message too, in case the mail goes into my spam folder.

Is there a deadline?

I would like to receive the image ideally before December 1st, the day the calendar starts. However, if you cannot quite make it until then, I will still accept the image. I want this to be an inclusive challenge, so if you need more time, you’ll get it.