#The problem is. I liked having Frankie at work with me cause they were a present from my bf

[wedding-shemp]

Honey Swamp is my new office buddy btw

[beannoss]

So I've been thinking about them:

Specifically I was wondering what the moment was (if there even was a specific moment) that cinched it for Twilight developing feelings for Yor.

[Spoiler warning: this post references manga chapters not yet animated]

I think for Yor it's pretty quick. Like, this moment here:

Not that Yor fell in love with Twilight then (ymmv) or that she's fully aware of her feelings, but it's explicit that she felt connected to him here and attached in meaningful ways.

But for Twilight, it wasn't so clear. For a while I'd kind of decided that it just came over him slowly (and I think there is something to that) and that there wasn't any singular moment which stood out. But that didn't feel quite right. The more I thought about it, the more I thought there were two stand-out moments, only one of which Twilight actually (semi-)clocks.

The first, which I think passes him by entirely, is this:

In my view, this laugh is an entirely authentic response. I think he is, despite himself, delighted by this woman who 1. just unexpectedly saved him from being stabbed, and 2. did it by sending the guy flying across an entire alleyway.

This is accentuated in the anime, I think, by the jaunty, puckish music that makes up the first part of their marriage theme song. I am dying for the reappearance of this music in some fashion, btw, it's so fun and cheeky and I'm hoping foreshadows their vibe after various revelations and particularly when they start working together as Agent Twilight and Thorn Princess:

The second moment for Twilight, I think, is more subtle for all it's more impactful. Or at least, the degree of its importance passed me by on initial read/watch, and I think it's deliberately downplayed by Twilight himself. Because he does actually clock it but if he looks more closely at it, well... then he might have to do something about it. And maybe that something won't comport with what the mission needs, and then what?

It happens when Twilight first bugs Yor, and then poses with Franky as SSS agents to test whether she knows Yuri is with the SSS.

It's clear in the lead up that Twilight recognises he has some feelings about/for Yor, and he doesn't want to spy on her; he doesn't want to mistrust her at all. He has to convince himself to take seriously that she may be a potential threat.

And even then, the convincing only sort of mostly works, because he hesitates again:

Which is, by the way, bananas. At this point, they've been a fake family for maybe a handful of weeks? Twilight is an experienced, accomplished spy with a finely honed and necessary sense of paranoia. Of course he should be suspicious. Her brother is an SSS agent! Canonically, the SSS are both Twilight- and SSS self-described as Twilight's greatest existential threat. It shouldn't be a question whether or not to verify Yor's knowledge here. And yet.

We all know how the rest plays out. He decides that listening in isn't enough, he needs to confront her insofar as he's able. I wrote previously about Twilight's relationship with Anya and the pivotal moment for him in how his view of his relationship with Anya changes based on Anya's (and Endo's) choices. I think a similar thing happens in this scene with Yor.

See, it would have been enough for Yor to continue to deny, continue to not call on Yuri's help, to prove she didn't know, and to put Twilight's mind at ease.

Endo takes it further.

Y'all: THIS IS ABSOLUTELY WILD. It borders on levels of impulsive foolhardiness that Twilight should actually take as a negative for the person playing his wife for Operation Strix. Yor even alludes later to the problems this could cause!

The SSS are indiscriminate; if Yor was facing down actual SSS agents, first assaulting and then threatening them would 100000% land her in custody. Were it not for Yuri, it may even get her disappeared, based on how casually and frequently Yuri references having people executed. It would absolutely put the Forgers at risk, in general and in the implicitly sexist Ostanian society, because if Mrs Forger behaves this way, how does Mr Forger behave? And why can't he control his wife? The Secret Police are not known for their leniency, their modesty, their discerning, their temperateness, their mercy. They are known for the exact opposite of those things. And due to being a spy, Twilight probably knows they're actually much worse than even their public reputation.

And here's Yor saying: you can question me but if you threaten my brother or my husband, I will fucking end you. Bodily.

Of course, it's entirely in keeping with her character, and it's an entirely revealing moment of who she is. And I think this is the moment for Twilight. He's already been trusting her bit by bit, as he says above, intuitively. I'd suggest that maybe even more than that though, Yor taps into something Twilight deeply wants: backup. Someone and somewhere safe. Maybe we could describe a person fulfilling that role in an adult relationship as a partner...?

It's because he doubts his intuition (his wants, his feelings, things he shouldn't be countenancing) that we get to this point where he (overzealously) tests her.

She blows his test right out of the water.

The SSS are basically the group he fears most; this is reiterated throughout the story. He doesn't trust them specifically because of who he is and also just generally. He doesn't trust their judgment. He doesn't share their values or their priorities. He doesn't like them around. He doesn't like them looking. He doesn't like being anywhere near them. (Also, he's right.)

And here's Yor. Not only standing up to them on his behalf but actually going on active defence on his behalf.

(I pause here to note 'on his behalf' is a bit, mm, tricky, since it's actually technically on Loid's behalf and I have Thoughts and Feelings about Twilight & Identity. But for the sake of the impact of this moment on Twilight, we'll take it as writ that in this moment there's no appreciable difference between Twilight and Loid.)

I think from here on out, it's incredibly difficult for Twilight to ever doubt or distrust Yor. He perceives her as firmly in his corner, that if the chips are down — if his worst enemy and his worst fear come knocking — she'll be on his team, unflinchingly. He may not think there will be much she can do (heh.) or much she can offer given the power of the SSS and her civilian status (I reiterate: heh.), but it matters that he believes that she'll be by his side.

And you know what? He's right. She will be.

That isn't something he's had since he was a little boy. Even WISE doesn't seem to offer that to its agents, given Nightfall's thought here:

Twilight's had to rely on himself for decades and now here's this astonishing woman who will threaten the Secret Police for his sake. Of course he trusts Yor. Of course this moment widens the cracks in his barriers. And further: of course those cracks start to reach into those walls deep, deep inside that protect his heart. This is all before getting to other moments, like when he reflects on how Yor is creating a better world in ways he (thinks he) can never aspire to do himself. That she loves Anya openly, freely, with such dedication, to the point of sacrificing her own needs. That she just never gives up, she persists and persists and persists, always doing her best. That she reminds him it's okay to accept peace and to rest. That she wants and tries to take care of him... On and on and on.

Of course we get to this point:

I'm particularly taken with his body language a little later in the scene. He manages to get himself to sitting but he's still sprawled, open, even as he can't wrap his mind around what exactly is happening or why, and he's feeling vulnerable for all that. But at the same time, this is Yor. And she's safe.

In my view, if the Mole Arc hadn't happened immediately between this moment and the earlier where Yor declares herself unhappy, it would have been clearer how much stress he felt specifically due to Yor's apparent sudden unhappiness with their arrangement. The stress got subsumed (conveniently, ahem, Endo) into the stress and violence of the Mole Arc, but I think it rattled him pretty profoundly. It's also additionally why her warm greeting hit him as hard as it did: relief across multiple lines, such that he had to remind himself not to relax, despite Yor's apparent return to normal.

And there may be added layers to Twilight's reactions to Yor's bad moods due to his familial history, as pointed out by @unhappy-sometimes in this post; the inverse, of course, is that Yor's general good-naturedness would add layers to Twilight's sense of security with her. And the apparent loss of that, all the more devastating.

Rounding out the original moment though, I think this in many ways demonstrates the point:

Twilight throws away the bug. That is also wild. It isn't like that bug could only be used on Yor; it wasn't somehow modified to only respond to her person. It was a device that could be used and reused on different targets, on people who actually are worthy of being bugged, etc. But instead of pocketing it for later use, Twilight throws it away.

Actually: he not only throws it away, he crushes it first. Perhaps because he couldn't stand to have that particular device around, the device he used when he doubted Yor?

Seems kind of irrational, Twilight.

Seems kind of telling.

I mentioned my last Twilight meta about his relationship with Anya: in that, I suggest Twilight recognised entering into a compact with Anya, which subtly modifies, for him, the motivations around Strix. I think something like that happens here, too. If Yor is willing to go to such apparent extremes to protect him, he'll do his utmost to protect her.

I've had this meta in my drafts for a while, but I'm chuffed by this panel from the most recent chapter, as it kind of underscores all this by Yor's positioning of herself:

(Of course the point is there isn't a dichotomy: they'll protect each other, as indicated by Yor's if I had to choose: she won't have to choose.)

Back to Twilight, at this point, he can still justify all this as being within mission parameters. Of course he should protect Yor: she is an innocent civilian and if anything happens to her it would threaten Strix. But if/when this line is tested, if/when there comes a point where protecting Yor is actually the option that may put Strix at risk or put him somehow in opposition to WISE, then we'll see.

And more importantly, Twilight will see, too.

[steddieas-shegoes]

homework

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'let's talk about that'

rated t | 990 words | no cw | tags: therapy, gareth pov, personal growth, self-discovery

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Gareth hates therapy.

Okay, hate might be a strong word.

He dislikes it strongly and wishes he could just write in a journal or something.

“Let’s talk about that some more,” the therapist, Jessica, smiled encouragingly.

“Talk about what?” He genuinely has no clue what she wants to hear more about.

“Your need for validation from your bandmates.”

Oh. That.

He wouldn’t really call it a need. He just doesn’t ever do anything that they’d dislike him doing. Even if it would make him happy.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You mentioned that sometimes you have ideas for songs, but you know one of them won’t like it, so you don’t suggest it. Why don’t you give it a try even if they don’t like it?” She clarified.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Why not?”

“Because Jeff and Eddie basically run the band. They come up with most of the shit we do, I just add the drums,” he explained. “It’s worked that way this long, why disrupt the flow?”

“Do they tell you not to give your opinion?”

“Of course not. They always ask what I think.”

“And you choose to not give them honesty.”

“I…”

He didn’t realize that’s what was happening. And he hates that it took a therapist to figure it out.

“I’m not lying to them!” He rushed to say.

“Maybe not. But you’re not being completely truthful, either. Do you think they’d be upset if they knew that you were holding back to maintain the peace?”

Gareth hates therapy.

If Steve hadn’t insisted they all go twice a month, he wouldn’t even be here. If Sam hadn’t backed Steve up, a knowing smirk on his face when Gareth and Frankie argued they didn’t need therapy, he would be sitting on his couch or behind his drums.

“I guess there’s a chance they would be a little upset,” he finally admitted. “But not nearly as upset as if I disagreed with them and we argued.”

“How do you know a disagreement would lead to an argument?”

“Because all disagreements lead to arguments. Arguments lead to fights and silence and cold shoulders. Cold shoulders lead to people not wanting to be around each other anymore.”

Damn, Jessica was fucking good at her job. He didn’t even mean to say all that.

He didn’t even know he felt all that.

“Is this a pattern you’ve experienced before?” She set her notepad aside, all attention on him.

“I guess, yeah. My parents. My older brother and my dad. My grandparents and my mom. My first best friend.” He shrugged. “Just easier to go along with things. It’s not like I’m not happy.”

“Settling and being happy are two different things.”

“I am happy. Really.”

He is. He’s never been happier, actually. He gets to do the coolest job in the world with his best friends, he has a boyfriend he loves more than anything, and he gets to drink his favorite coffee every morning. Life is great.

“Do you think that happiness stems from the peace you’ve forced yourself to accept or from being content in your life?” Jessica leaned forward.

“Do you do this with everyone? Is this magic?” He asked, suddenly having the overwhelming urge to cry or run or both.

She laughed. “No, it’s not magic. It’s just understanding my people. You don’t give me much to work with, but sometimes something sticks out and I can run with it.”

“Seems like magic.” He sighs. There’s no way out of this conversation. “What am I supposed to do? Cause problems until no one wants me in the band anymore?”

“No. Do you want actual advice or do you wanna try to figure it out yourself?” She leaned back in her chair. “I’m pretty sure you won’t like my advice.”

“I don’t like most of what you say.”

“Fair enough.” She smiles. “I think you should try being honest next time there’s something you have a different opinion on. No one is going to hate you or want you out of the band. They value your opinion or they wouldn’t have you there to begin with.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Not necessarily. It’s only as hard as you make it.” She makes a note in the planner next to her. “I’m expecting you to give me at least one example of doing this by our next session.”

“Homework? I’m busy enough!” Gareth didn’t want this to get in the way of tour prep. They were starting rehearsals next week and had a few last minute adjustments to make on their album before the tour started.

“And it’s the perfect time to speak up,” she raised a brow, daring him to continue arguing. When he didn’t, she spoke again. “I’m not expecting you to do it all overnight. Just once.”

“Fine.”

****

The first rehearsal was a shit show. It always is, but everyone’s nerves were shot today after barely sleeping and a flight delay keeping two of the tech managers unavailable for an extra few hours.

Frankie snapped on him earlier, but he walked away. That wasn’t the time to follow Jessica’s advice.

Eddie stormed from the room a few minutes ago, said he needed a break to call Steve. He’d been arguing with his guitar tech over which of his five guitars to use for a song.

Gareth started to speak up to give his opinion, but Eddie was already too frustrated.

See, Jessica? This is why you should stay quiet.

But Eddie came back a few minutes later and asked Gareth what he thought.

“The one you use for Blue Night is probably what you should use for Invade. Sounds are similar enough for those songs,” he said without thinking.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Eddie agreed, knocking his shoulder against Gareth’s. “Thanks, man.”

“Dunno why he listens to you and not me,” the guitar tech grumbled.

Gareth smiled.

Okay, Jessica. Maybe you were right this time.

[itsgreti]

THE NEW BOUNCER

pairing. elwood dalton x f!reader

summary. a new motorcycle gang is causing trouble, but the new bouncer solves the problem within a minute.

warning. cursing, mentions of physical injuries

word count. 1,2k

a/n: hey guys! it's literally my first ff ever, i just wanted to try out how hard is writing in another language, and i can tell you that i was struggling a bit haha. english is my second language, so if you find any mistakes, don't hesitate and text me! (divider is made by rookthornesartistry)

Working in the Road House was eventful. During the daytime, it was peaceful, but as night approached, the bar was no stranger to chaos. Lately, the trouble was caused by a motorcycle club, and its leader, Dell. He was the main source of broken tables and fights. Every night, he would swagger in, eyes glinting with wickedness. Tonight, however, things were going to be different.

(Y/N) had been working as a waitress at the Road House for a few years now. She had quickly become a favourite among the customers for her sense of humour and warm smile. But Dell's recent attention was anything but welcome. He would glance at her from across the bar, making nasty comments that sent shivers down her spine. She had tried to ignore him as much as possible, even helping Billy kick their ass out of the bar, but it had only led to swollen, bruised eyes of Billy and rude words to (Y/N).

Frankie’s only option to eliminate Dell and his gang was to find a new bouncer, and Elwood Dalton was the perfect candidate. He was known for his calm manner and challenging fighting skills. Initially hesitant, Dalton accepted the offer, as he had no other choice.

The other day, Dalton arrived to Glass Key, and as he walked through the door of the bar, (Y/N) couldn't help but stare at him from behind the counter. Tall, muscular, he was different from the usual arrivals, and he was an unfamiliar face compared to the regulars. He took in the scene with a keen eye, assessing the surroundings before making his way deeper into the bar. He met (Y/N)’s eyes.

"Hey there, what can I get you?" (Y/N) asked, her voice steady and friendly. It was rare for new faces to arrive with luggage in their hand.

"A black coffee, please." Dalton replied, his tone polite but firm.

"Um, we don’t have that. But you can try our Cuban coffee. It’s different, but it works the same." (Y/N) replied with a smile. Dalton agreed and waited her to prepare it. While he was waiting, he took in the ambiance. As she handed him the coffee, their eyes met, and she felt a strange sense of reassurance. There was something about him that made her feel safer already.

"You're new here," she said, more as a statement than a question.

Dalton nodded. "Just started today. Name's Dalton."

"(Y/N)," she replied with a smile. "Welcome to the Road House."

"Thanks, ma’am. Do you know where can I find Frankie?" he asked with a small smile at the corner of his lips.

She quickly pointed at a small room. "Yes, up there." Dalton acknowledged her, poured down the coffee, and made his way up to his new boss.

As the day went on and the light of the moon reflected into the bar, the place filled with people. The air buzzed with music and laughter. (Y/N) didn’t stop working for a moment as more and more customers ordered drinks. There were small fights, but Billy and Reef quickly wrapped them up. Dalton sat at the side of the counter and admired (Y/N)'s endurance and resilience as she also tried to put the too-drunk people in place.  

"The bar is always that packed?" Dalton asked (Y/N), who was mixing a cocktail with a customer.

"Yeah… " (Y/N) replied and handed over the drink to a girl. "But it’s normal, until-" Before she could finish her sentence, the mood shifted the moment Dell and his ass gang walked in. (Y/N)'s heart sank; she had been hoping for a quiet night and Billy had enough black eye for today.

"Wow, it’s like a morgue in here," Dell shouted and flipped the table in front of him for no reason. He scanned the room, his gaze immediately locking onto (Y/N). Dalton, watching from the aisle, tensed.

Dell made his way through the crowd, knocking over a couple of chairs in his path. He reached the billiard table to play some rounds as he had the past days, but he again terrified the other regulars. Billy came over to him and told him to get out, but Dell just laughed and pushed him back.

"Oh, Billy. You’re that stupid?" Dell laughed with his company next to him. "You didn’t learn, did you?" (Y/N) watched it behind the counter and decided to end it finally. She loved Billy as if he was her brother and couldn’t watch it anymore as the biker beat him up by and made everyone's life miserable. Dalton followed her every movement and decided to stand up if anything happens.

"Hey! Get the fuck out, now!" (Y/N) said with anger in her voice and stand in front of Billy.

"Ay, sweetheart. You’re here to protect your little guy?" Dell snorted and grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards him. "How about you and I get out of here and maybe I won’t give him another black eye?" he slurred, his grip tightening.

(Y/N) tried to pull away, her voice steady despite her fear. "Let go of me."

Dell laughed, a cruel sound that sent a wave of anger through Dalton. Before (Y/N) could say anything more, Dalton was there, his presence a wall of protection between her and Dell.

"She asked you to let go." Dalton said, his voice calm but firm.

"Who the hell are you?" Dell sneered.

"Dalton," he replied calmly. "And you're done causing trouble here."

Dell scoffed, but he released (Y/N). "What are you gonna do about it, Dalton?"

Dalton didn't respond. Instead, he moved with a speed that caught Dell off guard. In a matter of seconds, Dell was on the ground, gasping for breath and clutching his stomach where Dalton had landed a perfectly aimed punch.

The bar fell silent; every eye now was on Dalton. He looked around, making sure his message was clear. There was something about him that commanded respect. "This bar is under new management. Anyone who wants to cause trouble will have to answer to me."

Dell scrambled to his feet, fury in his eyes. He charged at Dalton, but Dalton sidestepped, using Dell's momentum against him. Dell crashed into a table, breaking it under his weight. The crowd burst into cheers, and a couple of regulars moved to help Dalton drag Dell's friends out of the bar.

Once Dell and the others were outside, Dalton turned back to (Y/N). She was shaken but unharmed, her eyes filled with gratitude.

"Thank you," she said, her voice a little shaky. "He’s been a problem for a while, but it was the first time he…" she tried to continue but felt a hand on her shoulders.

Dalton gave her a reassuring smile. "You don't have to worry about him anymore. If he comes back, he'll regret it."

(Y/N) nodded, relief washing over her. As the bar slowly returned to its usual noise and chaos, she felt a newfound sense of safety. (Y/N) handed him another beer, on the house this time. With Dalton around, she knew she could handle whatever came her way.

And as for Dalton, he couldn't help but feel a deepening admiration for (Y/N). She was strong and brave, and he was determined to make sure she never had to face trouble alone again.

[hyatoro]

yoinked this ask from another blog but i thought it was a really interesting question for your yan charas (frankie and kayden, specifically 😳) !! : ‘What is something that your yanderes want to hear? What they need to hear? And what they dread to hear from the reader?’

Franklin Russell

"I thought we were already dating?" Someone says something that leads to you saying this, and as delusional as he was, there's just something about hearing you say it that makes his heart full. It means that you two were always on the same page! "Frankie, I'm running out of space for your gifts." Extremely true. You need to move out and get a bigger place or something if you want to keep all the things, otherwise you might need to downsize on stuff and that's not going to be good for anyone.

"I'm moving to get away from you, Franklin." What? What do you mean he doesn't get to come with? What do you mean you're trying to leave him? No, that doesn't make any sense. You two are best friends. You can't.

Hwang Minsu

"I like how you smell." An obvious one, but true nonetheless. Either you have a strong sense of smell, or you're all up in his space, and you know which one he prefers.

"Get it together. The nightshift isn't sustainable for you." It's literally going to be the death of him if he doesn't get sunlight ASAP. Dude's vitamin supplements are working overtime. He doesn't even own sunscreen. Get him some and get him outside in the day time, otherwise he will burn from how pasty he is.

"You fucking reek." Same reason as the first one. Only the heartbreaking version of it when one of the core things about you is repulsing to the one you love. Would send him into a spiral.

Kayden Nguyen

"Wanna come over and beat It Takes Two with me?" Getting invited over to play a game that requires a player two, and you chose him of all people, makes him super happy. Plus he gets to roleplay being married to you, even though the premise is them trying to get divorced in the first chapter.

"All that beer can't be good for you." Not gonna lie, but he is definitely an alcoholic by medical standards. He's not entirely addicted, but it's become such a regular habit for him. Literally if you want it though, he can absolutely cut back to a reasonable 1-2 drinks per week. It's a habit he learned from his dad, and his way to bond with the older man, but for you? No problem.

"What did you just do? No. Get away from me." If you catch what he's doing to the people that try and approach you, AND you condemn him for it? He'd be devastated. They don't deserve you, but apparently he doesn't either. His raised arm falls to his side as he feels like caving in on himself.

Augustine Carver

"Now that that's out of the way. Augustine Carver, will you marry me?" If you were to propose to him immediately after getting your engagement annulled/taking care of the Crown Prince and Saintess, he'd be shell-shocked. After you nudge him to see if he was still breathing he screams out a 'yes'.

"You can't just challenge everyone you don't like. You're going to cause problems." Another true thing. It's a different setting. He's a Count. If people are making googly eyes at you, which they should cause you're hot, but they also shouldn't cause you're spoken for, then he's going to challenge/get rid of them.

"After the way you had forsaken me and our friendship. You really thought I could ever forgive you?" Decimates him. He knew he had done you wrong. He's grateful that you let him be by your side, but it's because you're using him. He doesn't mind, because he literally offered himself to you for that reason. But part of why he does it is to atone. And if you said this to him after all you two have been through together, he'd be crushed and speechless. Because what leg does he have to stand on?

[pimosworld]

Unrequited

Pairing-Santiago Garcia x f!reader x Frankie Morales

Series Summary-Francisco was always afraid of settling down. He left Santiago to pick up the pieces after Colombia and now someone else is taking his place. Now he must cope with repairing the past without disrupting his future.

CW-18+,MDNI,Angst, Fluff, hurt/comfort, Frankie has a lot of apologies to hand out, lots of food references, fun game of poker and a revelation, more apologies and a proposition.

WC-5.9k

A/N- Happy Frankie Friday, our boy is still going through it a bit but that’s to be expected when you ghost your friends for three years. At least he has Benny for some comedic relief.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter II Pining

  verb

gerund or present participle: pining

suffer a mental and physical decline, especially because of a broken heart.

  You stretch your sore muscles as best you can with the human weight that is Santiago pressed against you, his arm holding you close even in sleep. You knew he was getting better and that he was starting to get over it but Frankie’s sudden appearance is causing a relapse in his behavior. 

  The mornings you got out of bed before him or took too long to tell him you were running late from work would be met with his frantic state of mind. Always afraid of being abandoned again, left without a word or goodbye. You assured him as much as you could that you would never do something like that. Months of convincing him to go to counseling was met with short words and utterings of I don’t have a problem. It wasn’t until he’d awoken to you crying and scared one night that he was yelling in his sleep that you were going to leave him that he finally caved and went. 

  Therapy helped tremendously but you can’t blame him after the harsh words that were spoken last night that he thinks you couldn’t hear. Venomous words spoken between ex lovers, hurt people hurt people. 

  So you lay here a little longer, waiting for him to stir awake so he doesn’t think you left him. You rub your legs together easing the sore ache from the previous night, trying to ignore your full bladder. 

  You can feel his lips on the back of your neck, slowly making their way down leaving goosebumps in their wake.

  “Good morning baby, how’d you sleep?” He doesn’t answer with words, just hums as he grinds his hips into you. Avoiding the question that you already know the answer to. His hand slides over your stomach, dipping lower before you gently grab his wrist pulling it to your lips as you turn to face him. “As much as I would love to do that again, I really need to pee.”

  “Why didn’t you get up?” His sleepy voice cracks a little as he dips his head to kiss your neck. Your nails scratch at his scalp as you card through his salt and pepper curls. You tug on them eliciting a groan from him as he meets your eyes. You trace your thumb along the stubble of his jaw, memorizing every line and scar that you may have missed the last time you looked at him. He’s so distractingly handsome that you almost forgot he asked you a question. One that he already knows the answer to. 

  “I wanted to wait until you were awake.” You give him a wary smile almost ashamed to admit it, not wanting him to feel bad. 

  His face drops and he wraps his arms around you, rolling you on top of him until you’re almost falling out of the bed, forced to plant your feet on the cold hardwood floor. He whistles low as you pad to the bathroom, trying not to feel flustered knowing he’s checking you out. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been, he always makes you feel giddy. 

  When you exit the bathroom he’s propped up on one elbow holding the blanket up so you can join him in the warm confines of your bed. He shudders as your cold hands roam up his toned chest and wrap around his neck. 

  “You can’t be getting a uti because you’re afraid to wake me up cariño.” He half mumbles into your hair. 

  You sigh deeply. “I know…I just didn’t want you to wake up and not find me there.” 

  He kisses your forehead lingering briefly before speaking. “I know you’re worried about me with Frankie being here but I promise I’m okay.” He even thinks he sounds unsure of himself as he says it. 

  “I know you’re not okay and that’s fine, you just have to remember you’re not doing this alone.” 

  You’re an enigma, he thinks. How you manage to find the good in all situations. You’re the glass half full to his half empty. He was surviving before he met you and that was fine but he can’t go back to just surviving now that he knows what it’s like to be thriving. 

  “What did I do to deserve you?” He slides his hands up your back massaging and kneading the stress out of you. 

  “Mmmm…you’ve had your fair share of things you did to deserve being taken care of.” His stomach grumbles and you both chuckle. “Speaking of that…do you want me to make breakfast?” 

  “If I ever say no to your food I want you to shoot me.” 

  ****

  Frankie didn’t want to get out of bed, the exhaustion had fully settled in and he quickly realized how long it’s been since he actually rested. Constantly trying to stay busy to keep from actually feeling something. The conversation with Santiago had gone in the complete opposite direction he had hoped but he only had himself to blame. He didn’t expect to just waltz back into his life like nothing had happened but you being here was an unexpected surprise and most certainly changed his approach. 

  He’d never slept in the guest room so it went unnoticed at how beautiful the morning sun looked peaking through the curtains. The orange Santiago had insisted on painting one accent wall compliments it perfectly. It wasn’t until they bought this house that Frankie realized how much Santi cared about interior design. He wanted to tease him about it but opted not to when he saw how relaxed he was deciding on paint colors and furniture. 

  It’s an odd feeling washing over him as the smell of butter and cinnamon infiltrates his senses. It’s been too long since he’s awoken to the smell of anything other than stale cigarettes and last night's leftovers. He’s kicking the blankets off before he can register and rummaging through his bag for a pair of sweats. He can hear some soft singing coming from the kitchen as he makes his way down the hall. The smell is getting stronger as his stomach rumbles and Santiago comes into view, leaning back in the chair at the kitchen island as he not so subtly watches you retrieve the mystery item from the oven. 

  The man was always a perv when it came to checking him out and it seems nothing has changed. He can’t really blame him as he takes in your appearance. Another one of Santiago’s shirts adorning your frame and some of the shortest shorts he’s ever seen just barely covering your ass. 

  “Nice of you to join us.” Santi’s arms are crossed with a slight smirk at catching Frankie ogling you. 

  “Morning Francisco!” You’re beaming as you wipe your hands on a spare towel and begin to plate what he now sees to be biscuits. “I hope you’re hungry, I made cheddar honey biscuits, bacon and I’m about to start the eggs.” As if you couldn’t get any more perfect. 

  Santi gestures to the seat next to him and Frankie pulls out the chair, starting to feel a little less like a guest in his own home. 

  “How do you take your eggs?” 

  “Over medium” “Over medium” 

  If the tandem answer bothers you, you don’t show it as you expertly crack an egg into a bowl on the side of the stove and one into the pan. Santi adjusts next to him, seemingly a little flustered attempting to ignore his slip up. 

  “You don’t have to make-“ 

  “Don’t be a martyr over eggs.” Santi cuts him off before he can finish and you turn, giving him a stern look before whisking the mixture in the bowl. 

  “At least he doesn’t eat them scrambled like a child.” You mutter under your breath and Frankie tries to hide his smile behind his hands as Santi flips him off. 

  “I heard that chiquita.” He teases and you shrug as you plate up the rest of Frankie’s food. Retrieving the bacon from the warm oven and setting two hefty biscuits next to it. 

  Frankie stares at the plate, much like he did last night and he doesn’t even know where to begin. That’s a lie actually, he knows as he dives into the biscuit without another word. The buttery flaky crust with a hint of something sweet hits his senses and he can’t help the moan that escapes him. 

  He can see your shoulders moving as you laugh and he doesn’t even care with how good this is. Your food is a religious experience that only a chosen few should get to enjoy. As he glances over at Santi eating in silence a tinge of jealousy sparks in him that he gets to indulge in this all the time. You,this food,this life. For now Frankie has to live with the choices he made. 

  “Don’t be shy Frankie there’s plenty more.” You politely cover your mouth while you eat your breakfast and somehow finish cleaning the mess in a matter of minutes. 

  Frankie leans back in his chair rubbing his belly unashamed. Santi glances over noticing the way he looks so content and a slight gleam in his eye. “So does this guy do anything around here?” 

  Santi stands from his chair gathering both of their plates. “I provide other services.” He kisses you on the cheek as you playfully swat at him. “I also wash the dishes.” 

  “You own a dishwasher.” 

  “Frankie I don’t make the rules, I just do what the lady asks.” Of course Santiago doesn’t notice that this is the first time he’s used his name, not his government name or his call sign or the dreaded name he gets when people are mad at him but his chosen name. Frankie watches you both as you exchange subtle glances, some unspoken language between the two of you that he used to understand but it’s been too long. 

  Without words Santi is grabbing things from the fridge and setting them out on the counter for you as you retrieve some bowls from the cabinet. You’re filling a large pot with water as Santi returns to his seat at the island having fulfilled his duties of making piles of unfinished ingredients on the table. 

  “How much time do I have?” 

  “We don’t have to be at Wills until one so don’t rush cariño.” Santi says as Frankie gives him a quizzical look. “Barbecue…you’re going.” 

  Frankie tries to school the expression on his face into a neutral one as his stomach drops. He knew he needed to talk to all of them eventually, but he didn’t anticipate it being his second day back. He knows he can’t avoid the conversation forever and the sooner he rips the band aid the better. There’s too much weighing on his shoulders that he needs to get off so they can all live better lives. At least Frankie hopes after he talks to them that they are appreciative and see all he’s done to get back in their good graces. 

  “If I don’t make this pasta salad Benny will kill me.” He realizes after a moment that you’re speaking to him and he can’t wipe this dumb look off his face. 

  “Well if it’s anything like I’ve had already I can see why he’s obsessed.” You smile up at him as you chop some bell peppers with perfect precision. He’s not sure how you’ve not cut yourself as he looks from your eyes to the cutting board, but it’s almost reminiscent of how he feels when he’s flying; effortless.

  Frankie finally breaks your gaze as you turn around to pour the pasta in the boiling water. Santi’s eyes bore into him as he leans back in his chair with his arms crossed. Santiago was never good at subtlety, especially when it came to his outward appearance. If he had to title this one it would read if you keep flirting with her I’ll smother you with a pillow. 

  ****

  The three of you are in Santi’s Jeep on the way to Will's house. You insisted after going back and forth with Frankie to the point of awkwardness that he sit in front. You hilariously and completely ended the argument when you sat in the back and shrugged your shoulders knowing Santi would riot if he was made out to be some chauffeur with you both in the back. 

  The car smells divine…you managed to make two types of salad, some cupcakes and those cookies he can’t stop thinking about. Frankie’s recently caught wondering how Santi is still in such good shape with the way you cook. He watches the way his muscles strain against the black tee shirt as he shifts gears. The way his jeans fit his thighs just right as he-

  “Something on your mind Fish?” He’s been caught this time and it certainly won’t be the last time. 

  Frankie’s eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror. “Nothing…Just wondering how you still have a waistline when you live with Julia Child.” 

  You laugh and bite down on your lip to stop it from bubbling over in full blown hysterics. Frankie looks away but you don’t miss the way he smiles as his tongue pokes out from between his teeth. 

  Frankie stares out the window, something blooming in his stomach at the way he made you laugh again. It’s infectious and at this point he doesn’t even care…he knows full well that if he looks to his left he’ll see the second chapter of Santi’s death glare titled keep it up and I’ll crash this car. 

  ****

  It’s not a far drive to Will's house, but there was no way they were walking in the Florida heat with all this food in tow. Frankie swallows hard as Santi makes the last turn down their street. He has seen this house many times, it still sits beautifully at the end of the block nestled among two live oak trees in the front yard. The most unique house on the block and the largest backyard. He helped Benny and Will look for it so they could all be close to each other. The plan fell into place just before they left for Colombia. They closed on the house one month before leaving and for that Frankie is relieved to see all was not lost in that jungle. 

  He rubs his clammy hands along his jeans as Santi parks the car in the long driveway. He waits for a moment as you both exit the car to gather the supplies. He wants to get in the driver's seat and head home or maybe just get out and walk straight to the airport. Anything to avoid the possible rejection he faces when he walks into Wills backyard to see his best friends brothers again.

  The passenger side door is opened for him and you’re standing there expectantly with your hand out. “He said you might need some help.” 

  It feels childish and yet he needs it all the same as he takes your hand in his and steps out of the Jeep. It’s so small in his as you lace your fingers and pull him to the front door instead of the side gate to spare him a brief moment to gather his thoughts. He lets you lead as he tries not to step on your feet that need a few more strides than him as you approach the large wooden door. 

  The house is pristine and cozy on the inside as you enter. Santiago’s in the open concept kitchen putting away all the goods you made as Frankie looks around for anyone else. You squeeze his hand once before letting go to join him in the kitchen. 

  “Ben already took the pasta salad so that’s as good as gone.” Santiago says as he cracks open a beer and hands it to Frankie. Anything to take the edge off. 

  “I’m gonna go find Emma babe.” You kiss Santi on the cheek as you exit the kitchen leaving the two men alone. 

  Frankie’s eyes go wide as you shriek from the patio and Santi laughs. “Put me down Ben!” 

  Bennys voice is carried away with the sound of the music over the outside speakers. “Not a chance sweetheart.” 

  Santi nods to Frankie as he takes a huge swig of his beer. “Let’s head outside before she kills him.” 

  ****

  “Nice to finally meet you Frankie.” Will’s wife Emma is just as he pictured. Tall brunette with perfect hair and an even more perfect smile. She’s been kind enough to show him around the house and the yard as a means of distraction from the not so warm welcome he got from Will. 

  “It’s nice to meet you too.” He sounds like a kid that just got scolded for stealing as he removes his hat and scrubs his fingers through his hair. Emma’s showing him the room Benny is in. He spent what little money he had to open his own gym so they’re graciously letting him stay to save some money. Frankie feels particularly guilty about that right now but soon that will change. 

  “The office will hopefully be a nursery soon.” She turns to him offering a genuine smile. “Then we’ll have a live-in babysitter.” 

  “I’m hoping you don’t mean Benny.” Frankie chides as she throws her head back and laughs. 

  “He’s not all that bad and he could do with some practice.” Emma motions with her hands as she finishes the tour and Frankie feels like he’s having some sort of out of body experience. Walking through the home that he helped pick out so that Will could start a family. Everyone was doing exactly what they set out to do and Frankie was just…idling. 

  “Frankie?” She’s staring at him now, nearly eye to eye with him as she places her hand gently on his elbow so as not to startle him. He supposed she’s used to dealing with spooked vets by now. It’s almost like approaching a caged animal. “He’ll come around…I know he loves you, he just needs some time.” 

  Frankie’s too embarrassed to ask if she means Santi or Will so he just nods and says ‘thank you’. 

  ****

  Frankie’s on his second helping of pasta salad as he sits at a table with the guys and some of Benny's friends from the gym listening to Santi drone on about his security consulting business. Of course Santiago found a way to travel around telling other people how to do their job. 

  Frankie looks up from his plate to see Will staring daggers at him. He’s a coward to look away but he’s not ready to face that scrutiny. It’s not much better as his line of vision drifts to you and Emma laying out by the pool talking and laughing. The sun is beating down on his neck as a bead of sweat trickles down his spine. You roll to your front on the lounger and untie the strings of your top. The white bikini already left little to the imagination and now he can just barely see the soft curve of your breast as you adjust to get comfortable. 

  “They’re perfect aren’t they. ” Frankie nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of Ben’s voice in his ear. 

  “What?!” 

  “Emma and Will…I saw her giving you a tour earlier.” Ben winks at him as he steals a bite from Frankie’s plate. Frankie starts to speak but Ben cuts him off and leans in closer. “I know everyone has already given you enough shit so I’m not going to. I just hope you’re here to stay.” 

  “I am.” Frankie says it a little louder than he intended and he can feel Will and Santi’s eyes on him. The mindless chatter amongst the table has continued but the four of them are waiting on a limb as Frankie realizes this is the first time he’s actually said it. “I’m making plans to stay.” 

  Santi raises his eyebrows in surprise as Will finally speaks. “You gonna find a flying gig?” 

  Frankie doesn’t really need to work but he supposes he’ll go crazy if he doesn’t find something to occupy his mind. “I don’t know yet but I’ve got some money saved until I figure it out.” He takes a sip of his beer to disguise the little white lie. 

  Ben slaps him on the back and he splutters his beer. “You can come help me at the gym.” Ben’s shadow boxing him as he tries to clear his throat. “Let’s see if this old man can still spar with the great Benjamin Miller.” His friends at the table roll their eyes along with the rest at his large ego. 

  Frankie points the butt of his empty bottle at the younger man. “Ben, I can still kick your ass.” 

  “Is that so?” 

  Frankie nods slowly. 

  “I don’t think he can climb a flight of fucking stairs.” Will's voice cuts in and the table goes silent. There’s a slight smirk on his face as Benny erupts in laughter next to him. Santi drops his head to the table as the rest of the men join in and for a fleeting moment it all feels like it used to. 

  ****

  The parties died down a bit and it’s just the guys left while you and Emma say your goodbyes. The boys are staying for poker and that will give Frankie the perfect opportunity to talk to them. He’s not sure how much longer he could hold it in. 

  “Are you sure you’ll be fine walking home?” You approach Santi and the guys around the kitchen island.

  “They’ll both survive.” Will answers for him as he finishes the dishes in the sink. 

  “Cariño please don’t wait up for me this time.” Santi says through gritted teeth as he pulls you into a hug, kissing you on the cheek. Ben steps up behind him making mock kissing gestures and Will grabs him by the collar dragging him off to the garage. 

  Frankie awkwardly starts to walk away and leave you two alone when you call out to him. 

  “Francisco Morales…make sure he doesn’t gamble all his money away.” It’s said in jest as you gather your things to leave. 

  “I’ll do my best, hermosa but I make no promises.” 

  Frankie’s sure you don’t notice the slip up as you wave them goodbye and exit the front door. Heat creeps up his neck and he doesn’t even want to look Santi in the eyes. 

  “Hermosa hmmm?” Santi nods his head toward the garage door and steps beside him. “I see you still get flustered when beautiful people use your full name.” 

  Frankie follows closely behind as he breathes out through his nose. 

  This was going to be a very long night. 

  ****

  They’ve got him all wrong. 

  What started out as a fun game of poker quickly became a tense game of figuring out what Frankie’s play was. They’ve wrongly mistaken his nervous face for a poker face and everyone keeps folding. 

  Just spit it out 

  Frankie’s sitting here in Will's converted three car garage. Half of it was a shop to work on his motorcycle and whatever project his mind needed to keep him occupied. The other half is almost an exact replica of their favorite bar, all the way down to the teak wood flooring and an old school saloon type dresser with a roll top bar in front. He’s been trying to admire all the work he’s put in. The pool table and matching poker table just add to the charm. 

  You’re stalling

  “Fish, what’s your move?” Santiago’s voice is dripping with annoyance as Will stares down his cards like they’re going to change suits right in front of him. 

  He stares down at his hand and the pile of chips in front of him. He actually has a good hand this time, three of a kind and pocket aces. 

  It’s not about the money

  “All in.” He pushes his chips in the middle while Santi and Will quickly follow suit. Benny scoffs from behind the bar as he pours himself another beer having lost all his chips ages ago. 

  “You losers are gonna fall for it again?” 

  “Who are you calling a loser?” Will chides the younger man as Santi laughs behind his cards. 

  “I can read this pendejo like a book…he doesn’t have shit.” Santi says the last part playfully but the first part used to ring true. 

  Frankie lays down his cards and Will curses under his breath and throws his face down. Bennys laughing to himself over in the corner but Santiago’s grin is deepening by the second. It takes more muscles to frown, which is why he thinks Santi has such strong features. When he smiles though…it almost knocks him off his feet. 

  A trickle of sweat runs down Frankie’s back as Will raises an eyebrow at Santi. He leans back in his chair crossing his arms. “Let’s see ‘em Pope.” 

  Money,Money,Money

  Ten,Jack,Queen,King,Ace. Each flick of his wrist and the sound of the cards on the table as Santiago draws out his torture echo in the room. He leans in dramatically, dragging all the chips to sit in front of him. The sound of Benny whooping behind him and Will’s slow clap is drowned out by the ringing in his ears as he stares at the Royal Flush in the suit of hearts. Okay karma,you made your point. 

  “I went back for the money.” 

  He knew there was no right way to drop this kind of bomb on them. Judging by the silence in the room, perhaps there was a wrong way. 

  It’s so quiet you can hear the rustling of the chips settled in front of Santi falling by the wayside. 

Will locks eyes with Frankie as he leans back in his chair. The weight of what he just said hits him like a ton of bricks.

  “So we’re rich.” Ben’s voice cuts through the silence as he pours himself another drink. 

  “Ben, are you kidding me!” Will goes to stand as Santi lays a gentle hand on him urging him backwards. 

  As crass as it may sound coming out of the younger man’s mouth he couldn’t hide from it anymore. “Ya Ben, we’re rich.” 

  “Why?” Santi sounds calmer than he would’ve imagined after being silent for so long. He expected a fight from him, yelling and cursing. Frankie’s brain is doing somersaults trying to keep up with his emotions. Did he want Santi to yell? To tell him he was wrong for putting his life in danger. 

  Maybe there’s some weird fucked of part of Frankie that wants to be treated like a martyr so he can justify all the shit he’s put them through these last few years. Or maybe it’s just hard for him to realize that Santi was capable of changing for the right person. 

  “I did it for you…for us.” Frankie corrects although he’s not sure why. He could be nothing but honest in front of the men he risked his life for.

  Santi huffs a laugh as he shifts in his seat to look at Frankie. He picks up a stray chip rolling it on top of his fingers, some nervous tick he picked up during their army days. “You sure you didn’t do it for you.” There he is. 

  “What the fucks that suppposed to mean.” Frankie bites out ready for a fight. The fight he’s wanted since he landed here, back home. 

  “You’re gonna tell me that you didn’t go on some suicide mission without telling us…” He takes a moment to calm his breathing and lower his voice. “You did this so you could come back with something. To show us that you didn’t just leave everything for no reason. That you didn’t walk away from the best thing in your life because you got scared.” He tosses the chip and it lands in front of Frankie as Ben whistles low under his breath. 

  Santiago always had a way with words. He could rally the team when they were feeling down or nervous about a mission. He could convince higher ups to do things for him and make it seem like it was their idea to begin with. He could charm the pants off anyone he laid his sights to for one night or wax poetic to the love of his life. 

  He could also make his words cut like a knife. Those same words could make any bullet Frankie’s ever taken feel like a bee sting in comparison. If Frankie wanted him to see that he’s changed he was going to half to meet him more than half way. He’s wounded and hurt, absolutely incapable of seeing anything besides what he’s been through the last three years. 

  “You’re right.” Foreign words leave his lips not often spoken to the man with the ego the size of Texas. Frankie scrubs his jaw, kneading his fingers in that spot of patchy beard. “You’re right Santiago, I didn’t want to come back empty handed with nothing to show for myself. I felt like a failure after Colombia.” 

  “We all did.” Will cuts in as he slaps his hand down on the table. Loose chips falling to the floor. 

  Frankie lets out a long sigh. “I know man…I don’t mean.” Frankie underestimated how much damage he had done. Not just to Santi but to everyone. “I’m sorry. This was the only way I knew how to apologize, even if it comes off wrong I don’t regret one second of it. We all deserve this money and you know that.” He points at Will before continuing. “You can be mad at me all you want, I'm not running this time. I’m gonna stay and fix this even if it takes me the rest of my life.” 

  Santi stands abruptly, saluting Ben and squeezing Will's shoulder as he exits the garage. 

  Will slides the small notepad for scratch paper towards him, scribbling down some numbers. He clicks the pen and tosses the notepad to Frankie as he stands from the poker table. “I suppose this is my fault.” 

  Frankie tilts his head in question. 

  “I gave those coordinates to Pope.” He clicks his tongue as he rests his hands on the table next to him, eyes drawing up in mischief. “But he told me he lost them.” 

  Frankie stares down at a long list of numbers. “What’s this?”

  “My banking info.” Will looks at him then a little more tired behind the eyes than he’s ever seen. “I love you Fish, he loves you too.” Will slaps him on the back and exits the garage leaving Frankie with the younger Miller. 

  Frankie doesn’t turn around but he can picture Ben behind him. “Goodnight Ben, my favorite and only brother in the world. I love you soooo much.” He’s definitely miming with his hands. “Goodnight Will, even though you’re a pain in my ass I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

  Frankie laughs a little bit. It's short lived as a cold piece of ice hits the back of his neck running down his shirt right into the open crack of his jeans. 

  “What the fuck Ben!” Frankie turns in his seat to see him crunching on some ice. He narrowly misses another piece thrown at his head. 

  “I want my money by tomorrow.” He does his worst impression of a mobster as he leaves Frankie alone in the garage. 

  ****

  Santi sits on the curb in front of Will’s house as he hangs his head in his hands. Thankfully for him it’s a decently cool night compared to the awful humidity he’s usually subjected too. He often wonders why they all settled here instead of somewhere off the grid. It’s comforting in a sense, it feels like home. 

  It’s tearing him up inside holding onto all this anger for Frankie when he really just wants to tell him he loves him. He thought he would feel better after getting it all out, finally laying down his cards so to speak. It brewed somewhere underneath for all those years and as cathartic as it was to say it out loud it didn’t change what happened. 

  Now he’s left seemingly with everything he could possibly want and he feels numb. 

  Santi hears the front door close softly behind him as Frankie makes his way down the path. He doesn’t want to argue anymore, he just wants to let this all go and finally live a peaceful life with enough money to make sure he’ll never have to sweat again. 

  “I don’t want to fight with you anymore.” He looks up to Frankie holding out his hand to help him off the curb. “Please forgive me.” His soft brown eyes look down at him. The ones he could never resist even if he tried. 

  He accepts his hand as he hoists him off the ground dusting off his jeans. “I forgave you a long time ago Fish.I had to for my own sanctity.” 

  If it’s a misstep he doesn’t correct himself. Sanity or sanctity aside, he knows hating someone for that long will eat you alive. “I would not be capable of loving her the way that I do, if I had not forgiven you.” 

  “Do you still love me?” Frankie asks, as selfish as it may be. Not entirely sure of what answer he’s expecting. 

  He’s backlit by the street lamps creating a soft halo around his brown and graying curls. Santiago has pictured them doing this walk so many times in his dreams. Moving here to start a life with him, walking home after a long day of hanging out with their brothers to head home and curl up in the soft sheets of the master bedroom. 

  “I never stopped loving you.” Frankie takes his hand then and he doesn’t pull away. “I never could even if I tried.” 

  Santi’s trying not to get choked up as he stares at their hands. Frankie grips his chin tilting it up towards him but he abruptly pulls away. 

  “I thought you said-“

  “I know what I said. I love you.” He gestures between them. “But this…can’t happen without her.” 

  Frankie’s nostrils flare as he gives him an aporetic look. 

  “Don’t give me that shit Frankie, I see the way you look at her.” 

  “Looking isn’t illegal.” His possessiveness over someone that doesn’t belong to him comes out harsher than he intended. 

  “No you’re right it’s not, but you can’t have your cake and eat it too.” Santi spits back at him as he glances over at the house that’s no longer Will’s. “Let’s keep moving.” 

  Santi gets two steps ahead before Frankie yanks his arm back bringing him face to face. Daring him to call his bluff. 

  “Isn’t that what you’re telling me…that I can have my cake and eat it too.” His body’s pressed against his, they’re so close he can breathe his air as he practically spits fire. 

  “Yes Francisco, that’s what I’m telling you.” He gently prys Frankie’s hand from his arm putting some space between them. “But I’m not doing it behind her back.” 

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[hesbuckcompton-baby]

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 6

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 |-| Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19

AO3

Summary: In the wake of a tragic mission and the loss of a friend, Frankie is ordered to spend some time at Coombe House to recover her strength

Warnings: Language, Frankie's potential drinking problem

Word Count: 4.3k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58

George's forehead pressed against the place where Frankie's neck met her back, warm air blowing down the back of her pyjama shirt whenever she breathed. Their hair was a tangled mess of brown and blonde, bodies struggling for space upon the narrow mattress. Whenever one moved, the other instinctively placed a foot down on the cold floor to brace themself from rolling off completely. The beds were narrow enough with only one sleeper, but the extra body made it almost impossible to lie comfortably, the mattress springs and metal bedframe digging in at awkward angles. And yet it seemed the only way they could truly rest, the steady breathing of the other a reminder that not all was lost.

"Why do we love them, George?" Frankie asked quietly, picking at a crack in her fingernail. "When we know they might not come back."

George lifted her head off the pillow, craning to look over at Frankie as she scooped the hair out of her face. "Because we're like that. You and me, we love people so fast that we forget to think about the bad parts," Frankie sighed, rolling over to look at her as a frown creased George's brow. "Frankie, I don't talk to pilots anymore. I barely even go near them, I'm too scared of what will happen if I start caring again. I don't want you to have to live like that."

Frankie shook her head slightly. "Well, it was different with Bucky and me - we're friends, but it's not like what you and Curt had."

"Frankie..."

"What?"

"I'm not talking about Bucky."

She was silent for a moment, considering this. The bedsheets rustled noisily as she sat up, staring at the wall opposite, feeling George's gaze on the back of her head as she spoke. "He pulled through when no one else did - his was the only plane that came back, that's gotta mean something. Like... like he's better than the others."

It's about luck, not skill. She knew they were both thinking it. George would never say it, would never taunt her with that possibility, but they both knew it could happen. Rosie could go up one day and simply never come back down. Just like Cleven. Just like DeMarco. Just like Bubbles. Just like Bucky.

"I start work in an hour," Frankie muttered, almost flinching as her bare feet touched the cold floor as she got up out of bed, tip-toeing across the room towards the bathroom. George sighed and went back to staring at the ceiling.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A pencil hung from between Frankie's teeth as she rummaged through the supplies that littered the mechanics' Nissen hut. In the last few days, the constant back-to-back missions had taken priority over keeping any sense of order, and the place had descended into chaos, everything tossed in at random without rhyme or reason. She was wrestling with a stack of sheet metal as the door creaked open, another figure entering the room. Frankie was scarcely alone in here, so the intrusion caused no alarm - until her visitor spoke.

"Serge?"

Looking up from her work, her brow arched in confusion, plucking the pencil out from her mouth. "Colonel?"

Colonel Harding stood at the end of the shelves, hands folded politely behind his back. When it looked like she was about to drop the metal, he stepped forward, helping her to steady the unwieldy sheets as she uttered her thanks, slotting them away on the correct shelf.

"Sergeant, have you considered taking some time off?"

Frankie frowned, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she shrugged. "I'm too busy for that."

Harding nodded slowly. "That does seem to be the gist of the problem. Rosenthal has informed me that you were very close with Major Egan," At the mention of Bucky's name, her shoulders tensed. "He's also told me that you've been extremely overworked lately. We both feel that some time away from Thorpe Abbotts could do you some good - make sure you can keep up your excellent work."

She paused for a long moment, mind racing a mile a minute. Had Rosie really gone behind her back? Told the Colonel, of all people, about what was going on?

"No. I'm good," She shook her head, turning away as she wandered down to the other end of the shelves to continue tidying. When she looked up, the Colonel was standing on the other side, looking at her through the wooden slats.

"It wasn't a request, Sergeant."

Frankie had been forced into a corner. And Rosie had made it happen.

"... Bugger."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The driver had dropped her off at the top of the long driveway, Coombe House looming large as she dug her heels into the gravel, carrying nothing but a battered suitcase and a raggedy old satchel. It felt like she had been dropped off in some garden of Eden, some fantasy world so far removed from her own that it was practically a different dimension. The first thing she noticed was the smell - rosebushes, freshly trimmed grass, not so much as a whiff of engine oil, the scent that had clouded her nostrils for years. Frankie tried counting the windows, but lost track somewhere around thirty, at which point she realised she'd done nothing but stand and stare for several minutes.

"You nervous?" Rosie asked, suddenly at her side. She hadn't noticed him approach, hadn't heard his footsteps against the pebbles. Hadn't noticed the way he'd stopped to take a long look at her in her dress uniform - a far cry from the coveralls he'd only ever seen her in before. Her hair was curled, her nails scrubbed of any dirt. She looked good.

Frankie shrugged. "Just a general aversion to the English upper class."

It took her a moment to realise who she was talking to. But when she did, she turned to glare at him, brow arched in equal parts question and judgment. "Did you tell Colonel Harding I was verging on a mental breakdown or some shit?"

He blinked. "I said you were tired. Sad."

She scoffed, handing him her bags without invitation. "Don't tell the Colonel I'm sad, he was lookin' at me like I was a nutcase."

Rosie chuckled, buckling slightly under the sudden weight of her luggage. "Well, I'm glad you could join us, if that's any consolation."

Frankie hummed, nodding slowly. "S'pose it'll have to do."

The Riveters had only arrived that morning, her appearance following by no more than a few hours, but already it seemed the flight crew was settling nicely. All except for Rosie, that was, who twitched like an anxious puppy, as if some magnetic force were repelling him from the doors of the building.

"I told them you're here. They wanted to roll out the full welcome mat, but I said you'd prefer it if I showed you around - keep it quiet, n'all."

She eyed him sideways. "I'm not sure there's anyone left that you haven't managed to convince I'm insane."

A teasing glint shone in his eye. "Well, if you want, I can call down the butler and-"

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Frankie uttered, rolling her eyes at the mere concept. She trailed beside him as he led her down the hall, eyeing the furnishing with a constant air of distaste. "Why do they need so many lamps?"

Rosie grinned, pausing to wait for her at the foot of the stairs as she stopped to examine a huge, ornamental clock, her expression distorted in judgment. "You've never been in one of these big houses, have you?"

Taking off her uniform cap, she wagged it at him scoldingly. "My entire house has four windows - I think they have more in the fucking toilets here."

"Wow, you're like a total reverse snob."

He had begun to climb the staircase, footsteps muffled by the runner as Frankie made to follow, taking the steps two at a time as she swiftly caught up. The door to her room was directly opposite his, and Rosie couldn't help but wonder if it had been a coincidence as he propped it open with his foot, unloading her bags onto the carpet. The walls were painted a pale yellow, French windows opening out onto a narrow balcony, watercolour landscape paintings and antique furniture filling the space. Frankie felt predisposed to hate it, but couldn't quite bring herself to say a harsh word.

"I'll leave you to it," He nodded, beginning to back out through the doorway.

"Thanks. Oh, wait," She called, halting him in his tracks. "Is there a phone somewhere?"

"Downstairs, I think."

Once she was alone, the door closing behind her with a gentle click, Frankie shrugged off her uniform jacket, tossing it over the back of a nearby chair before she fell back against the bed, the springs creaking beneath her weight. It was a far cry from the beds at Thorpe Abbotts, and by god was that a good thing. If it hadn't been the middle of the day, she probably would have gone to sleep right there and then, burrowing beneath the soft duvet, enveloping herself in the warmth. Her father had never been able to afford holidays or hotels, and she was quite certain she'd never stepped foot anywhere as nice as this. And to think they were simply giving her the week? She couldn't help but grin.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A few hours had passed since Rosie had left Frankie in her room, and he was emerging from Doctor Huston's office, a disgruntled frown painting his features as he fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt. He was glad Frankie was here - glad the Colonel had listened to him, glad she might finally get a full night's sleep - but he wanted out. Almost desperately so. If the guilt wasn't tugging at him he might have loved to spend this time out here with her, but he couldn't tear his mind away from the mission at hand, from the pilots he'd left behind.

Muffled speaking caught his ear as he passed through the halls, tearing him from his thoughts as he recognised the voice. Rosie peered around the corner and spied Frankie by the phone, holding the receiver to her ear. The wire was stretched across the width of the corridor as she stood in front of one of the many bust statues, examining its features as she chatted away with whoever was on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, put her on... Hello m'love! How's things?... Yeah? Oh good," Rosie was leaning against the wall, and she suddenly spotted him lurking, waving to him and pulling a face to match the disgruntled expression of the statue beside her. He chuckled as she continued to speak. "Yeah? Well, I hope you're givin' him hell for me until I can come home... Ooh, yeah, put Jill on... Hiya!"

He couldn't quite tell who it was she was talking to, but after a while, she gestured for him to come over. Brow furrowed in confusion, Rosie approached, shrugging as if to ask what she was doing.

"Tell you what, I've got someone here who'd like to say hi," His face paled at this, and he began to shake his head. Frankie only nodded. "Yeah, that's right, he's one of my pilot friends," She grinned at whatever the other person had said, holding the receiver up to him. "Say hello!"

"Uh, hi?" Rosie spoke uncertainly, but the tiny voices on the other end of the line returning the greeting made him smile. Whoever these children were, they were very excited to hear from him.

Frankie took the receiver back, pressing it to her ear. "Alright, well, I've gotta run, but ask your uncle to call me when you get home from school tomorrow, yeah?... Alright. Love you. Bye!"

She was grinning as the call ended, hanging up the phone as he shot her a questioning glance. "They're my cousins. They've been living with my dad since the Blitz killed their mum."

Rosie frowned. "I'm sorry."

"S'alright, it was a few years ago now. But they're really good kids, I'm glad we got to take them in... You been with the doctor?"

"Begging him to let me leave, mostly," He nodded.

"They want me to see a grief counsellor or something, but there's no way in hell I'm doing that."

"Why not?"

"Because..." She shrugged. "I think shrinks need to mind their business."

"I'm not sure that's the best attitude to have about this."

"Like yours is any better - I heard you when I was waiting for the phone, you don't want to be here."

Rosie had nothing to say to that. She was right, he just wished she didn't know it. He sighed. "... You wanna go outside?"

"Yes."

It was as nice a day as one could find this time of year, the afternoon sun beating down on them as they strolled the gardens, gravel crunching beneath their feet with each step along the path. The grounds of Coombe House were huge - stables, tennis courts, croquet grounds, and the river, all connected by mazes of paths and neatly trimmed hedges. Neither of them had any real interest in the activities on offer, electing instead to simply wander aimlessly.

"So..." Frankie began. She was wearing what appeared to be a man's dress shirt - a rather large man, judging by the way it billowed out around her, the tails flapping in the breeze. "What did you do before this?"

"Oh, I was a lawyer."

She almost gasped at this, and Rosie couldn't help but grin at how clearly impressed she was. "Seriously? So you went to university?"

He began to chuckle. "Well, yeah, I went to law school, that's pretty much the requirement."

He could see her pondering this for a moment before her gaze snapped back to him. "Are you rich?" She almost whispered the question, as if the mere suggestion were scandalous.

"What?" Rosie scoffed. "No?"

"But you went to university."

"... Yes? Didn't you have to go to school to learn what you do?"

Frankie practically guffawed at this, a squawk escaping her throat that sounded so ridiculous he laughed himself. "Jesus, no. I dropped out of school when I was fourteen."

"Fourteen?"

"Yeah, that's the cut-off. I'm pretty much self-taught - y'know, like a genius," She wiggled her eyebrows mockingly. "Not just a pretty face."

Rosie smiled. It was easy to smile with Frankie - easy to forget the tragedy that had brought them both here. There was always something about her, something magnetic, that he was sure she could say anything at all and he would still smile. Perhaps it was worth sticking around for a while.

They took dinner in the main hall of the house, which had been laid out like a restaurant, the floor dotted with tables of various shapes and sizes, all covered with white tablecloths. Frankie stirred her soup with her spoon, around and around, scarcely ever eating any. But everyone noticed the whiskey she poured into her coffee. Pappy shot Rosie a glance, and he subtly shook his head, urging his co-pilot not to say anything. The Riveters seemed to have developed an unspoken understanding that she was his jurisdiction - if anything happened to Frankie, it was Rosie's business, not theirs. They all knew each other well by now - had all chatted on the hardstand and drank together in the pub - but it would've taken a blind man to be ignorant to the fact that what she and Rosie had was different.

"So... Frankie," Bailey spoke up, earning a few nervous glances from the rest of the crew. "How'd you find your first day?"

She nodded, buttering a bread roll and finally taking a bite. As she spoke, she lifted a hand to cover her mouth full of food. "It's nice, yeah. Although, I think big houses like this always smell like old people."

Pappy clicked his fingers as if she'd said something profound. "That's what that smell is!" Frankie chuckled, taking another sip of her alcohol-laced coffee.

Conversation was small, stilted. No one had it in them to talk about the last mission, but it was near impossible to recall any missions prior to that without having to mention Egan, a topic the Riveters had been warned to avoid like the plague. No one quite knew how Frankie would respond, and they preferred not to find out over dinner. But she wasn't a fool - she could tell they were dancing around her, leaving gaps in their stories for the sake of preserving her feelings. And if there was one thing Frankie didn't like, it was to be coddled.

"Right," She huffed, chair scraping against the polished floor as she stood up. The men's gazes all turned to her, half of them almost getting up on instinct, their mothers' lessons on manners ingrained into them. "I'm off. I'll see you gents tomorrow."

They muttered a scattered chorus of goodbyes and goodnight as she turned to leave the hall, taking her coffee with her. Rosie watched her go, his gaze tracking her across the room until the moment she passed through the doorway, at which point he practically leapt to his feet. "One sec," He uttered, dodging the other tables as he hurriedly made his way to the door.

Frankie was already halfway down the hall when he left, glancing up at the artwork she passed as she sipped away at her drink. "Frankie?" His voice echoed against the wood panelling, and she turned to look back. "You sure you're ok?"

She took a deep breath, nostrils flaring. "Look. Talk about what happened, or don't, I really don't care. But I'm not a child, and I don't need you all walking on eggshells around me, ok?"

"I..." He sighed. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

Frankie nodded. "G'night, Rosie."

"Goodnight."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Rosie couldn't sleep. Again. He couldn't quite pin down what it was that was keeping him awake - the Münster mission, his lingering desperation to get back to Thorpe Abbotts, or the guilt that had been eating away at him since Frankie had ditched at dinner. Nevertheless, the amalgamation of all three kept his mind restless, unable to calm itself enough to give him a moment of peaceful rest. Before he knew it, he was up, wrapping his dressing gown around himself, slippers muffling the sound of footfall as he began to pace the corridors.

There was no real direction to his wandering, in an almost trance-like state as his thoughts raced to make sense of things. Why was he here? Of all people, why him? It was a situation that couldn't be rationalised, but he tried nonetheless, the question almost torturous as he rolled it over in his mind. Luck wasn't a force he found comfortable - there was no solace in its painful lack of answers.

Music was coming from the end of the hall. It tore him from his thoughts, the muffled sound of jazz accompanied by a faint humming, his footsteps trailing after the sound before he had time to stop them. At first, the library appeared empty - no evidence it was inhabited save for the lamps that had been left on and the record that was slowly spinning away on its player. Rosie's brow furrowed, but then he realised the humming sound was coming from behind the couch.

Frankie was sat cross-legged on the floor, posted in the gap between the couch and the record player, obscured from view to anyone entering. She wore her baggy, blue pyjamas, hair pinned up in rollers around her scalp, a port glass filled with what appeared to be whiskey held in one hand as she sifted through the house's music collection with the other, building a hefty stack of records at her feet with the ones she had decided were of value.

"What are you doing?"

She didn't even look up, entirely unphased by his arrival. They had grown used to each other's presence so quickly that it seemed just as natural to be together as it did apart. "Looking. If I've gotta stay here all week they'd better have some good music."

Rosie looked down at the half empty glass in her hand, frowning. On the table behind her sat two others, stains left by her faded lipstick indicating she had already drained them of their contents.

"Are you drunk?"

Frankie hummed. "About two-thirds of the way there."

"Alright," He huffed, crouching down to tug the drink from her grip as she let out a gasp in protest. Rosie paused for a moment before upturning the amber liquid and pouring it down his own throat, coughing slightly at its sting. "Jesus, that's pretty strong stuff."

She seemed to be sulking, continuing to flick through the stack of singles in stubborn silence, as if electing to ignore his presence. Sighing, Rosie grunted slightly as he manoeuvred his way to sit down beside herm back resting against the arm of the couch as he peered at the pile she had gathered. "Hey, these are pretty good."

Frankie hummed, not saying a word as she continued to browse. He was beginning to think she had seen all of the records already, and was pretending to go over them again to avoid having to talk to him. She was craning forward to look, and he dared to raise a hand to her back, thumb skimming across her spine. Turning her head to look back at him, her big brown eyes reflecting the orange glow of the lamps, the corner of his mouth turned upwards in a flickering smile.

It felt stupid to ask if she was alright for the hundredth time. "How're you feeling?"

She tilted her head to the side, sitting back against the couch next to him. "I don't want you to make yourself so busy trying to look after me that you don't look after yourself."

Her response caught him off guard, and he blinked a few times as he tried to think of what to say to it. Had that been what he was doing? He supposed it must be. He'd spent maybe a couple of hours thinking of himself since he arrived, and those hours had been spent solely before Frankie's arrival and after he thought she'd gone to bed. Without realising, he'd accidentally made himself a caretaker for someone who never asked to be taken care of.

"How are you feeling?" She pressed.

Rosie heaved in a deep breath, holding it in his lungs for a moment before releasing the air in a sigh. "Being here feels... wrong," He confessed. "This- this is not how we're supposed to deal with what's happening - we don't play tennis and go riding with the hounds - I don't even know what that is, but-"

"Foxhunting?"

"Foxhunting," He nodded. "We're not supposed to sit around and talk and cry - we're supposed to keep going. Y'know - I'm here because I need to stand up to what's wrong and I can't do that when I'm sitting here," Rosie paused, running a hand over his face as he sighed again. Frankie's hand gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"I got in a rhythm. You go up, you come down, you do it again the next day, over and over. You keep the streak going because then you're in it - you're focused and you're sharp. But now it's broken."

Perhaps the broken streak had been the thing that bothered him most, the thing that stole his sleep more than anything else. But in truth, the more he thought it over, the rhythm had been broken for a long time. The rhythm had been broken since the day he met Frankie - since the moment he saw her smile and realised there was something he wanted to come back to. Her mere existence had planted that seed of fear in him, and suddenly he was covering for more than himself. For a moment he let his words trail away, simply staring at the way the light caught itself on her eyelashes.

Frankie nodded slowly, considering what he had said, trying to formulate something to say. But when she turned to glance back at him, all the words caught in her throat. No one had ever looked at her the way he did now, with such softness in his eyes that she almost felt suffocated by it, weighed down by whatever image of her Rosie must have contained in his mind. Frankie didn't know how to accept that kind of adoration - didn't know what to do with it, how to hold it in her hands without crushing it. It didn't even matter that she felt it too.

She leant into him, trying to rest her head against his shoulder without her curlers getting in the way. Rosie sucked in a breath, wrapping his arms around her, feeling the warmth of her through the thin layer of cotton that separated his palms from bare skin. There wasn't anything either of them could say to soothe each other's pains, but it was good enough to share the weight. She could hear his heartbeat, thumping slightly faster than it should've.

He fell asleep before the record ended. When he woke up, it had been taken off the player and put carefully away, morning sunlight flowing through the curtain and streaking across the carpet next to him. Frankie was gone, but there was a blanket strewn across his lap that hadn't been there the night before.

On the table beside him, a still-hot cup of coffee was giving off steam.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Caught

Summary: Santiago inviting you and Frankie for his house warming party over the weekend leaves you to spend some nights at his new place. Getting up in the middle of the night to get some water, leaves you finding Santi and his girlfriend in the kitchen. Unable to look away Frankie finds you and decided to have some fun with you too.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem. reader / Santiago Garcia x OFC

Rating: E

Wordcount: 3.5k

Warnings: established relationship, accidental voyeurism, dub con (just cause people are being watched without their consent but the watched people do not mind in the end) smut (oral; fem receiving, unprotected PiV), fluff, dirty talk (the word slut is used twice)

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You usually weren’t a big fan of being stuck in a car for two hours. But Santiago Garcia did not buy a house to settle down with his girlfriend (soon to be fiance) of two years and invite for a housewarming party every day. 

And you were always a fan of spending time with Frankie. 

You looked at him from the passenger's seat, one of his hands on the steering wheel, the other one on your thigh. He had the aviators on that you gifted him for his last birthday after he broke the pair he had before. The gray shirt he was wearing was tight around his upper arms and you could see a tiny bit of the tattoo he got earlier this year. 

God he was gorgeous. 

“See something you like?” he hummed, a smirk sneaking to his lips as he caught you staring, his hand squeezing your thigh. 

“See something I love,” you clarified and he smiled, his dimple showing and you swore you could see his cheeks blushing.

You and Frankie have known each other since you were four years old. Growing up as neighbors until he left to join the army made you spend endless summers together. 

But you hadn’t started dating until a little over six years ago. 

With him joining the army and you eventually going abroad to study you very much lost contact. After you got your degree you moved to Boston for work and only came back to the tiny town you grew up in for family celebrations or holidays. 

But then your mother died and you decided it was time to go back home to help your father. 

It was on your 26th birthday that Frankie showed up on the doorstep of your childhood home with a box of donuts and a bottle of whiskey, looking like he had been through hell and back. You would only learn much later that he had been. 

Your friendship really just picked up where you left off, just with you both legally allowed to drink booze and adult problems.

And feelings that hadn’t been there before. 

You remembered that you talked on your birthday until the early morning hours, Frankie telling you little about the army, about the divorce he was going through, about his little girl he wanted to be the best father too, about his drug addiction. Much like you told him about the man you had broken up with before you moved back home because he insisted you stay where you belonged. With him in the city. He didn’t care about your family or your feelings for that matter. 

Not that you thought you would marry the guy, but it still hurt to be so wrong in someone you loved. 

He told you everything about his little daughter Carina. She was his whole world.

She was also the reason he and his ex-wife had tried to make their marriage work but decided in the end that they were better off as friends. 

Carina and you became fast friends, even though you still think it was because of the huge amount of cookies you had baked with her and Frankie the first time he had invited you over to meet her. 

You started to spend more time together after that. 

You went on drives, you cooked together, you even went on a weekend trip into the woods where you met all his army brothers. It was the most fun trip you ever had been on. 

But something changed throughout the months after that. Touches lingered longer. Hugs seemed… tighter and more intimate. And then came his 34th birthday. 

His divorce was final, his three year old daughter was staying for the whole weekend and he had decided that it was time to teach her how to swim. 

The three of you spend the whole day at the local swimming pool. You brought muffins and sang happy birthday for him with his daughter before he blew out the one candle you had put on one of the muffins. 

When you asked him if he made a wish he only nodded at you with a small smile.

It was the perfect day.

Carina fell asleep before Frankie’s truck was even off the car park, making both of you chuckle. You stopped to pick up pizza on your way home, you insisted you pay because after all it was his birthday. When you came out of the pizza place, Frankie was leaning against his car, waiting for you. 

You put the pizza on your seat, waiting for him to go back to the car but he didn’t so you leaned next to him against the car, bumping your shoulder towards his. 

He took a deep breath before he came to stand in front of you and you still could feel the butterflies in your belly when he looked into your eyes, his fingers brushing over your cheek. They never really went away since that day.

“What did you wish for Frankie?” you had asked and he had smiled softly. 

“A birthday kiss,” he whispered. You licked your lips. 

“Then come and get it,” you whispered back. 

You would never forget this first kiss with him in the parking spot in front of a pizza place in your home town. 

That was six years ago and you have only grown closer ever since. 

By now not only your family but all friends were asking when you would get married and have children on your own. 

Both you and Frankie told them to fuck off on a regular basis but they did not seem to get the hint. 

If they knew you had been married for the last three years they would lose their minds. You got married on a beach while you were both on vacation in mexico. The only witness the older man who married you early in the morning at sunrise. 

But Frankie and you had a bet going how long it would take for anyone to notice. 

When he had asked you to marry him you had gotten him a ring too, so seeing the both of you with rings was not something out of the ordinary. 

“Can you believe that he’s going to propose?” you asked Frankie when you entered the town Santi had moved into. He had started his own Security firm here and met Tina, his girlfriend, who owned the flower shop across the street from his office. 

You had heard the story a million times, but the thought of Santiago Garcia buying all kinds of flowers on an almost daily basis for a month until he had finally asked her out still made you laugh. 

“I couldn’t believe Benny getting married too, so anything is really possible,” Frankie joked and you laughed. 

You would be staying at Santi’s place for four nights. The house warming party was in two days and Frankie had agreed to help Santi with the finishing touches of the back porch which left you and Tina mostly laying in the garden, watching your men sweat and work shirtless while offering occasional Lemonade.

You were very thankful the guest bedroom was in the basement when Frankie railed you in the shower after, his hand over your mouth to suppress your moans.

Sex with Frankie was ….

You still couldn’t believe he was the first man who ever made you cum on his cock. He was only satisfied when he made you cum at least twice. 

The day before the housewarming party you spend with Tina in the kitchen. Helping her prepare some salads and dips and things for the party on the next day while Frankie and Santi finished the work on the porch and started putting tables and chairs together. 

“I’m gonna make dessert when we come back from dinner,” Tina said. You wanted to argue but she waved you off.

“Santi is gonna help me. He has a hand for all things sweet,” she winked and you grinned. 

You were very tired after dinner. And maybe a little tipsy.

Frankie and you invited them both to a Chinese restaurant where you ate way too much sushi. 

Seeing Santi so in love with Tina was not something you ever thought you’d see. He had been living with Frankie for a while when you got back in contact with Frankie and he had a new girl every week. It went on until he decided to go back to Columbia for work.

You were happy to see him so content and happy with the woman he intended to spend the rest of his life with. 

Once back at their home you didn’t fight to help with desert anymore, letting Frankie tuck you into bed where you fell asleep almost immediately, not even waking once Frankie got into bed with you after he had taken a shower. 

You woke up hours later in his arms. One of his hand holding one of your breasts like every night. He argued he did it unintentionally but you knew how much he loved your tits. 

Checking your phone you saw that it was just after 2 am. Sighing you carefully untangled from Frankie, feeling thirsty. Sadly you hadn’t gotten a new bottle of water before going to bed. You put one of Frankie’s shirts on (apparently Frankie had undressed you to your panties after you pretty much passed out) and opened the door to make your way to the kitchen.

You were climbing up the stairs when you thought you heard a moan. Stopping where you were standing you listened for more noise, taking the rest of the stairs. When you could look through the room, your head just on the ground level you heard another moan and you turned your head towards the noise, eyes widening when you saw what was going on. 

Santiago’s house had an open floor plan on the ground floor. When you entered the house you were facing the stairs that lead to the first floor and the basement. The spacious living room lay on the left side, the kitchen on the right side. 

The kitchen was huge, having two islands, one you were facing now where Tina was laying on top, her side facing you. Santi on his knees in front of her. 

You knew you should turn around and look away but you seemed rooted to the spot. 

His arms were wrapped around her thighs, keeping them apart as he went down on her. One of her hands was in his hair, her back arched, her eyes closed, her other hand made into a fist which she pressed against her mouth to keep herself, quite unsuccessfully, quiet. 

“Fuck baby keep doing that,” she whispered and you heard Santi hum against her.

You felt yourself getting turned on, your panties dampening with your arousal. 

“Fingers… need… fuck give me two fingers,” Tina moaned lowly and you saw Santi bring one of his hands between her legs before she whimpered as two of his finger pushed inside of her. 

You closed your eyes, deciding that this is not something you should be watching, before taking a deep breath and turning around to go back down to wake up Frankie so he could fuck you, when you collided with someone. Just so stopping yourself from yelping you looked up, already knowing it was Frankie. You parted your lips to tell him to turn around when he put one of his fingers in front of his lips, his head turning towards the kitchen. 

He was completely naked, his cock already half hard.

You gulped, following his line of sight. 

He turned his head back towards you and you caught Frankie’s eyes, before he leaned down, his lips against your ear. 

“I saw you watching them,” he whispered and you shivered. His hands came to rest on your hips, taking a step down so you couldn’t see into the kitchen anymore he towered over you. 

His eyes were now on your friends in the kitchen and you sucked your bottom lip in as you heard Tina moan. 

“I think he’s gonna make her cum baby….” Frankie whispered, his eyes now finding yours again. He took a step closer, two fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties to push them all the way down, you stepping out of them, before his hand cupped your pussy. 

“Fuck you’re so wet,” his fingers parted your folds, slipping through your wet slit. 

You let your head fall back against the wall.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” you heard Tina moan and you released a shuddering breath. 

“Frankie…” you whispered. He shook his head slowly.

“Shh listen….” he hummed, nodding upstairs and you did. Hearing Santi’s girlfriend fall apart as she tried to keep quiet, her moans echoing through the room. 

“Fuck baby you’re so sexy. My little cock slut,” you heard Santi say and Frankie’s eyes found yours. 

“Gonna fuck this pussy so good we gonna wake up the whole neighbor hood,” he continued and you felt one of Frankie’s fingers enter you. 

You heard a slap and you were dying to see what was happening in the kitchen. 

“That turn’ you on? Making Frankie and his girl wake up to find me fucking you in the kitchen?” Santi asked.

“Fuck baby….” she moaned and your lips parted when Frankie pushed another finger inside of you, pumping them slowly, his other hand pushing your shirt up. You helped him, pulling it over your head, throwing it down. He cupped your breast, playing with your nipple.

“You want them to hear what a slut you are for my cock?” you heard Santi ask and Frankie bend down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. Your hands flew up into his hair. 

His lips wandered up your neck, his lips against your ear as he moved his fingers inside of you. 

“When I woke up you were gone and I got up to find you and maybe fuck you in the kitchen,” Frankie said and you whimpered, very quietly. 

“But then I found you watching my best friend fuck his girlfriend…” he sucked on your earlobe and you let one of your arms fall down, your hand wrapping around his cock. You let your thumb brush over the wet tip of his cock.

“Who would have known my little wife is getting turned on from watching our friends fuck?” he looked at you then, his lips finding yours, swallowing your moan as he added another finger, stretching you out for his cock. 

“Fuck me already baby,” you head from upstairs and you pushed Frankie away. He looked at you confused until you knelt down on the stairs, getting on all fours for him. Looking over your shoulder you caught a glance of Santi pumping his cock with his hand and lining himself up to sink into his girlfriend with a satisfied groan. You caught Frankie’s eyes, smirking when you found his hand pumping his cock too. 

“Fuck me,” you mouthed and he shook his head in mock disbelief, his chest rising in a silent chuckle. 

You heard a long moan from the kitchen and cursing from Santi. 

Frankie’s hands were on your ass, parting your cheeks. He spit on his cock, taking a step closer and you felt him notch the head of his cock against your slit. 

You could hear Santi and Tina fucking, moaning from both filling the room, skin slapping on skin. 

They were doing a shit job at keeping quiet but then again it was their house.

“Can you keep quiet?” Frankie whispered, pushing the tip of his cock inside. 

“Can you?” you challenged, looking at him over your shoulder, biting your lip when he thrust his cock into you fully. 

“Fuck baby you’re so wet,” Santi moaned and you let your head fall down between your shoulders, squeezing Frankie’s cock. 

“If I knew getting caught turned you on so much, I would have fucked you in your shop,” a moan was heard from Tina and finally Frankie began to move. 

“Oh shit,” you whispered, feeling his hand groping your hips as he pumped into you with deep thrusts. 

He fucked into you, his thick cock stretching you and it felt so fucking good it took all your brainpower to keep yourself quiet. Frankie groaned quietly, giving you a hard thrust that made you moan. 

The sounds of Santi fucking his girl were almost porn worthy. And they continued doing a terrible job of keeping quiet and it made you wonder if they might want to get caught. 

Frankie fucked you harder and you moaned again, definitely too loud to not be caught. He stopped, his cock deep inside of you, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders as you waited if you had gotten caught. 

You didn’t. 

You looked at Frankie and he winked at you, before both of his hands wrapped over your mouth. He gave you a quick thrust and your eyes rolled back. 

He used his grip as leverage, beginning to pump into you with short hard thrusts. You heard him groan quietly. 

“Oh fuck, right there. Baby…. fuck you gonna make me cum,” Tina whimpered and you clenched around Frankie, making him choke on a moan. 

You risked a glance towards the kitchen, now being able to see what was going on and fuck these two looked so fucking hot. Frankie kept fucking into you while you saw Santi pump his thick cock into his girlfriend who was still laying on the kitchen island. His hands were on her breasts, groping them and you sighed into Frankie’s hands, closing your eyes. 

Frankie took a step up, his feet now next to yours on the stairs. He let go of his grip over your mouth and pushed your upper body down as his cock dove into you. The new angle made him hit your G Spot perfectly and you pressed your lips together, trying to keep quiet.

“Shit I’m gonna cum,” Santi groaned. 

“Rub my clit,” Tina moaned and you heard her cry out a long fuck as she came. Santi following her only seconds later. 

Frankie pumped harder into you and it was only seconds later that you fell apart, moaning as quiet as possible as he fucked you through your orgasm. 

“Shit baby,” Frankie groaned in a whisper. You felt him twitch inside of you, and you clenched around him, squeezing his cock and he groaned, loud, as he spilled inside of you. 

You leaned your head down, your arms laying on the stairs, breathing deeply as you still felt Frankie spill inside of you. He leaned down, his chest against your back as he kissed your shoulder. 

You turned your head, smiling softly and he kissed you. 

“There better not be any cum on the stairs, Fish,” you both heard Santi say and you jumped. Frankie’s arm came up to cover your tits as he pulled you up, both of you finding Santi and Tina looking at you with him still inside of her. 

There was an amused grin on his lips and Tina seemed amused. 

“No worries. Definitely no cum on your stairs,” you finally said and you all burst out in quiet laughter. Frankie kissed your cheek. You both took some stairs down and he pulled out of you. You felt his cum drip down your thighs and you reached for your panties to clean yourself while Frankie helped you back into your shirt. 

Turning around you wrapped your arms around Frankie’s neck and kissed him softly. You heard footsteps behind you and turned your head, finding Santi standing on top of the stairs, wearing his sweatpants. 

You sucked your bottom lip in, feeling guilty. 

“I’m sorry. I woke up and wanted to get some water and when I walked up I heard you and I just…” Santi waved his hands. You saw Tina come up behind him, hugging him from behind. 

“Next time just ask if you could join if you end up fucking,” Santi winked and you made big eyes, looking at Frankie who was still looking at him. You turned your head again, finding them both looking down at you. 

Frankie’s hand ran down your back, groping your ass. 

“Maybe we will,” he said and you looked at him, finding his eyes. It was like a silent conversation happened in the span of seconds before you turned your head to look at Santi and his girl again. 

“Yeah. Maybe we will.”

[shirohige-pirates]

Magic Trick

Marco x afab!reader

Word count: 3,902

CW: fingering, oral (receiving), rough sex

Summary: You've had a crush on Marco for a while, and you decide to take the plunge and shoot your shot.

Blame @zoros-sheath for inspiring this one-shot. And honestly, you can probably blame @cyborg-franky @standfucker for even causing me to look over at this blorbo for long enough that I got thoroughly caught up in him.

18+ only

You tested the size and balance of Ace’s hat medallion a few times, working it through your fingers and slowly working up the speed needed to make it disappear. Your hands were barely big enough to manage it but after a few minutes you were twirling it around easily.

“If I’m working with something like this, I’d make sure I was wearing something baggy.” You admit as Ace eats next to you.

“You made it disappear a few times. I admit, you’re good at it.” Ace says, shoveling another large bite of food into his mouth. “You should do a trick like that with Marco.”

You grunt, but don’t say anything else.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Paradise doesn’t exist, that’s the problem.” You sigh, tossing his hat medallion at him. Ace nearly drops his plate to catch it, but manages to get a hold of both.

“There’s no way he dislikes you.” His voice is full of disbelief. “I’ve caught him staring.”

“Maybe I’m being too subtle.” You admit, laying your head on the railing of the ship, looking over at Ace. “Or maybe his non-answer is the answer.”

“You’re being awfully soft with this.” Ace jabs you in the side with the handle end of his fork. “You’re usually only subtle when you’re scouting. Why’re you playing this so cautious?”

“Because I -!” You straighten up but stop talking, realizing you were starting to shout. “I don’t want him to turn me down.” You admit quietly. “I really like him.”

Ace’s eyes go wide for a moment, and then he beams. “Do one of your magic tricks then.” He says.

“Pulling a quarter from his ear isn’t going to tell him anything.” You grumble.

Ace shrugs. “Can you pull a condom or some underwear out from behind his ear?”

You smack your forehead and groan. “Yes, Ace, that’s certainly not subtle.” You sigh.

“You’re just going to chicken out then, huh?”

“What?” You bite the word off in a snarl, eyes sharp.

The devilish grin on Ace’s face is enough to make you realize you waltzed right into the trap. “If you’re not, then do it. The celebration’s tomorrow, right? Pull something out from behind Marco’s ear tomorrow that doesn’t leave him any wiggle room.”

“… Live or die in front of the entire crew, huh?”

Ace shrugs. “If you get rejected, there’ll be plenty of booze around to soothe you.”

You cross your arms, pouting. “There’s not enough booze on this ship to soothe me, Tinderbox.”

“I’mma let dat go,” Ace grumbles through a half-full mouth of food. “You’re taking this pretty hard.”

You put your hands over your face and muffle an aggravated scream. “What kind of moron falls for their division commander?!” You growl. “If I say anything and he rejects me I won’t be able to avoid him.”

“If you don’t say anything you’re going to explode in the middle of a battle or something.” Ace teases.

“Worse,” you huff. “Teach caught me grumbling and offered to soothe my aching heart.”

Ace laughs. “Poor Teach. He’s a hundred years too late.”

You snort, leaning against the rail, staring out over the sea. “Better to regret the choices we make, than the moments we let go by, right?”

You sigh, letting the day slip into night. You don’t rest well that night, but you get some sleep. Nerves, of all things, keep you awake. You hadn’t been nervous for years – a side effect of being a pirate. You’d been doing reconnaissance and theft for the Whitebeard pirates for the last six years.

Repayment really, for having robbed half the crew blind when they were on your island. Once you realized who you had stolen from you were pretty sure that you were just going to be executed. The Whitebeard pirates were as close as the Grandline got to heroes for some people, but they were still pirates.

In the end, you were offered a spot on the crew, under the First Commander no less.

You’d only gotten better at your craft, you’d be taught about haki, and you’d become a formidable member of a well-respected crew. It was hard to say when Marco started to catch your eye. When he went from pirate to commander to brother to crush.

In the end, the details didn’t matter. You were where you were, and you felt what you felt, and it was going to be easier to move on if you were rejected than it would be to just sit on the feelings and dwell.

Once the festivities started the next day, you let yourself enjoy them. Food, song, dance – it was a celebration for every crew mate with a birthday that month, one big feast was easier than several smaller ones, and it was always good fun.

The food and chatter gives way to music and dancing, and pockets of crew members enjoying booze as the sun sinks lower and lower. By the light of the dying sun you wander over to where Marco is, sitting with Thatch who is enjoying a late dessert, and Izou, who’s enjoying a bottle of wine. It’s impressive how Izou can make drinking straight from the bottle look so graceful.

You had agreed with Ace that subtle was going to need to be thrown out the proverbial window and so you make a little bit of a show of things as you draw nearer, sighing heavily and looking completely disparaged.

“What has you so down?” Marco asks, setting his mug of ale down and leaning back.

“I’m having a hard time finding something.” You admit, giving him a cheeky grin. You can tell he knows you’re baiting him into something, but you’re not sure he’s aware exactly what it will be.

You may be a little notorious for doing random magic tricks for the crew, but you’re usually light on the theatrics.

“Oh? Something important?” He muses, giving you an easy smile. You struggle not to just bite your lip and tackle him, that easy smile is killing you.

“In a way.” You admit, stepping closer. Even with Marco seated and you standing, there wasn’t much height difference. He wasn’t nearly the tallest on the crew, but at six foot nine inches he wasn’t anywhere near the shortest either. “Want to help me out?”

Marco’s grin doesn’t change. “Of course, yoi.” He says, leaning forward, and staying seated as you draw even closer. “Where do you think-?”

He stops as you reach past his face, fingers brushing against his ear.

“I’ve looked just about everywhere.” You say, shifting your gaze down to catch the bright blue eyes looking back up at you. Marco looked amused more than anything else, but it was hard to get emotions other than calm and neutral to break across his face.

You pull a black lacy thong from behind Marco’s ear, eyes on his, sure grin on your face. “Oh, there they are.” You say, running your tongue over your lip a little. “Seems they prefer to be wrapped around your neck than around my thighs.”

Marco’s eyes are as wide as you’ve ever seen them, blush creeping into his fair face. You hear a clatter, looking over for a second to see that Thatch has dropped his plate, and is completely agog. The usually suave cook is beet red and looks to have been caught completely off guard.

You lean closer when Marco doesn’t say or do anything more, and whisper into his ear. “Perhaps you’d rather my thighs around your neck instead.” You offer, suppressing the urge to leave a soft kiss against his neck before leaning back.

Marco swallows thickly, pulling a few berries from his pocket and handing them over to Izou without a word. Izou smiles politely at you, tucking the bills away and returning to his drink.

When you look back at Marco he’s composed himself, enough that he at least looks relaxed, even if his ears are still a little red. The easy smile he gives you makes your heart thump in your chest, and after a second he stands up.

“It seems me and my neck have a prior engagement.” Marco says evenly, taking a step or two away before stopping to be sure you were following after him. “Izou, you’ll see to Thatch, aye?”

“Ace and I will at least make sure he doesn’t sleep in that position.” Izou answers with a chuckle.

Marco continues on, away from the celebration, and you follow after. A small knot twists in your stomach – Marco is a nice guy, genuinely nice, especially toward the crew. He could very easily just be leading you away to help you save face in front of everyone else. You hold onto that feeling as you two head toward his room, padding yourself against possible rejection just in case.

He puts his hand on the door handle, pausing for a second. He starts to say something, thinks better of it, and opens the door, stepping back and giving you space to enter.

It’s nearly impossible to read Marco at the best of times, but your own senses are a little frayed right now, and you have no idea what’s going through his mind. You wanted clarification before you walked into his room, because if he was just going to let you down easy you’d prefer to just go to your own room now.

But you didn’t want to ask. You didn’t want to form the risk into words and bring it into the air. You manage a sure smile and start toward the door when Marco finally speaks.

“I can’t promise,” he says thickly, his gaze heavy against you even if you aren’t looking back at him. “That I’ll be any sort of gentleman, once you go in there, yoi.”

A sweet shiver slips down your spine and a small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “As long as you don’t mean to use me and then lose me.” You say lightheartedly, stepping into the room.

Marco steps in behind you, smile on his face. “I gave you a few months to come to your senses,” he teases, an easy smile in his voice in the dark room as he closes the door, plunging you both into near total darkness.

“And here you are.”

You turn toward him, words dying on your lips as you see the blue flames flickering off of him. They’re small and brief, illuminating the room like sparks. The dance of light over his face gave the illusion of a fire within his eyes, and the heated look he was giving you had more weight and passion than you had been expecting.

He was always so relaxed and laid back. Seemingly completely unbothered by the world around him. If not for his interactions with the crew you almost would’ve thought him detached. But the man who stood before you now was literally burning in his desire.

“Last chance.” He says, but the tone in his voice is sharp. He doesn’t want you to leave. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware that that desire isn’t just about right now. The warning isn’t just about tonight.

You can almost see the talons closing in around your entire body.

“I didn’t flirt for the last six months to chicken out now.” You mean to sound sure, but there’s a shiver in your voice. Uncertainty, maybe. Concern that you’ve stepped into something deeper than you meant to.

You never feared Marco, and even now that wasn’t the right word for whatever was beating against your bones.

He reaches out, fingers brushing gently against your face. You nuzzle into the action, and you can hear a soft sigh escape him. His fingers shift enough to tilt your chin up as he leans down toward you. His eyes find yours, the sparks are fewer, but there’s enough light to catch one another’s gaze.

The first kiss is almost chaste. The soft brush of his lips against yours. A fleeting warmth that passes between you, and the nearly inaudible intake of breath as that first connection was finally made.

The simple act was like the snapping of a seal. Marco pulled off his shirt as you pulled his face closer, kissing him deeper as he tossed the useless piece of clothing aside. The kiss broke for a second, long enough for you to pull your shirt off and toss it away.

His hand was behind your head, warm and taut and the next kiss stole your breath just from the intensity behind it. You opened your mouth and let him in before he could even ask for permission, and he wasted no time in accepting. Out on the deck you may have had some manner of control, but in the privacy of this room Marco was devouring you.

You shifted easily through the room, and the clatter of objects falling to the floor was the only warning you had before large hands grabbed you and lifted you up onto his desk. Something in the back of your mind marveled that the organized and neat doctor would cause such a mess.

Your fingers trail over him, following his arms, tracing lines along the curve of muscle and tender skin. By the nature of his devil fruit, he bore no scars, no jagged lines for your fingers to remember. You had your share of scars. Marks from learning, marks from work, small lines and stories and near misses etched into the weave of your skin.

Marco’s fingers seemed to pay them no mind, strong hands pulling your shoes away and lifting your hips as he pulled your pants down past the curve of your ass. You pulled the sash around his waist free, wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling yourself closer to him.

A soft grunt from him disappears into your continued kisses and his hand nearly slams into the desk as he leans you back enough to break the kiss. He swears softly as you shift your hips against his.

“(Y/N).” His voice shivers and you can feel his body tremble.

“No regrets,” You breathe the words, looking up at him, pulling him back down toward you. “The only issue right now is that you still have your pants on, Marco.”

He grins. “You still have your small clothes on.” He retorts, leaning you back further until you’re laying on the desk and he’s over you, leaning down and kissing you again.

His kisses shift away from your lips, trailing along your jaw and down to your neck. The shivering gasp that escapes you spurs him on, hands grabbing you and roughly pulling the last of your clothes away.

Passion burns in the kisses that press into your skin, sinking into your muscles and sending jolts through your body. Blue flames licked along his back, trailing behind the lines your fingernails were already digging into him. His hands held you still as your body squirmed from the pleasure of his kisses, impossibly smooth and firm and hot against you.

Your fingers move from his back to his shoulders as his kisses burn into your stomach. Pleased moans rattle in your chest as your hips shift, Marco’s lips kissing against your sides as his hands grip your knees and spread your legs wide. Your back arches at the rush of cool air between your thighs, but you barely have a second before his tongue is deep inside you even faster than earlier.

Your hands are on his head as his hands are holding your legs wide, your body jolting from the pleasure even as he holds you in place. You suck in a breath and bite your lip to keep the loud cry from escaping you. You can see a flicker of flames cross Marco’s shoulders and you’re aware he’s irritated, but he’s not stopping.

His tongue and lips suck and swirl against your clit like he was born to please you, and with a little shift you a finger slip into your wet pussy.

“Y-y-you’re guh-gonne mm-maaah, shit! - make me sc-scream, Marc-Marco!” You gasp, wiggling as a second finger is pushed inside.

You look down and see two blue eyes, unnaturally bright in the dark room, looking back at you from between your thighs.

“Indeed,” he says it almost flatly and you realize where his irritation was coming from.

You whimper a little. “The whole ship’ll hear…” You murmur defeatedly.

He hums, eyes still burning into you, tongue slipping up the inside of your thigh. “I warned you, yoi.”

Oh shit.

“You did,” you admit, swallowing thickly, a little concerned about your current position suddenly. “I’m… at your mercy then.”

You can see the grin that slips along his lips, an expression that cuts through your bones and sends a shiver through your body. The First Commander was renowned for his even manner and relaxed countenance, but you had a feeling you were about to see everything that was tucked behind that.

Unlike the flames of his Zoan, this particular flame was for your eyes only.

“Don’t hold out on me, yoi.” He says softly, three long fingers pushing into your tight, wet, needy hole. You suck in a deep breath, grabbing onto the edges of the desk as his fingers curl, causing your body to make a similar motion as pleasure rushes through you.

His breath is hot against your clit as he pulls one of your hands free from the desk, and places it against his head. “Hold onto me, not the desk.” He commands, and your other hand releases its grip on the desk to hold onto him as his tongue goes back to work.

Too much, it’s too much. It’s such a rush of pleasure, you didn’t even know your body could be so sensitive. His free hand kept sending little lines of electricity through you as his fingers moved over your hips and up along your stomach. You could only apologize inside your head as your hands tightened in his hair, your body clenching like iron at the first flood of pleasure.

Little more than a broken swear managed to get past your lips as the orgasm ripped through you. He showed you a small mercy, and didn’t force you to ride out the entire thing, but as he moved you wondered if it was truly mercy that had been given. You were coming down slowly, every twitch and tingle danced along your skin and sunk into your bones.

You could hear the fabric of his pants as you were sure they had been discarded, but in the dark of the room, in the hazy blur that was your muddled vision, you couldn’t see.

But for every sense that was addled right now, your sense of touch was all the more keen.

Hot. It was hot. Marco didn’t run hot normally, not like how Ace did with his fiery body, but Marco was always shades of blue. Calm, cool, collected. But the rigid tip of his cock, pressed against your soaked and trembling lips was hot. Hot, and impossibly stiff. More akin to metal than flesh as far as you were concerned.

“Marco…” You reach for him and he takes your hand in his, kissing your fingers softly before he grips your wrists and pins them against the desk. “More, please.” You nearly whisper the words, moaning softly at the lips that tease your neck while his cock shifts teasingly against you.

“Look at me, (Y/N).” He says, and you focus as best you can on his eyes. “Keep looking at me.” His voice is demanding, low, and husky as he begins to push into you. “I want to see your face as you give yourself to me, yoi.”

The stretch is delightful. It’s been so long since you’ve enjoyed the pleasure of another, but even so, the feel of it as he pushes in is satisfying. It’s your body that gives way, not his, but he fits so well. Your fingers flex, and he adjusts his hands, fingers tangling into yours, holding your hands to the desk instead of your wrists.

“Marco.” His name is gospel on your lips, a soft prayer to a fiery blue demon in the skin of an angel. “Kiss me.”

“As you command.” He almost growls the words, as though he’s struggling to hold something back, and leans down. His lips are against yours, the pressure and pleasure barely registering as his hips met flush with yours.

His hips shift as his tongue pushes into your mouth. He devours the sweet moans that bubble up from your chest, even as the snap of his hips fills the room with the wet sounds of your pleasure and need. You’re caged completely, an odd reversal if you had enough mind to think on it.

“M-more!” You gasp as the kiss breaks.

“Aye.” Marco agrees, letting go of your hands to hook your knees over his arms, stretching your legs back and letting him push a little deeper.

Fire trails along his back as your fingers claw into his perfect skin again. Your gasps and moans come out in thrusts of air as he slams into you, the desk creaking and shifting under the rough pace.

He shifts enough to tease you, his pace slowing only a little. His thumb rolls against your clit, and his lips tease your nipple as his other hand tries to steady you both against the creaking desk. The lessened pace gives you more breath, and the added sensations pull moans and cries of pleasure from you. You don’t want to let go of him, so you can’t cover your mouth. He’s moved away from you so you can’t kiss him to stifle your sounds.

“Sing for me,” he demands, breath hot against your skin before he nips at your nipple sending a zing of pain through with the pleasure.

“Ca-can’t – can’t – Marco! Ma-Marco I’m gonna—hnnngh!” You tense and coil as the pleasure builds and when you move a hand away to cover your mouth he grabs it and pins it down on the desk, picking his pace up again.

“Don’t deny me again.” He warns, teeth nipping at your neck. “Let it out. I want to hear, all the sweet sounds that you can make for me.”

Whimpered tatters of need fall from your lips as the pleasure builds. The more it builds the less you can hold back, and any time you try to hold back Marco pushes more fire and desire into you.

The pleasure crests, and you scream – his name, though the sound breaks as it passes your tensed throat, and then is devoured as his lips cover yours. You moan into the kiss as he continues to thrust into you, his rhythm stuttering only a little as he fills you up, the sensation and the soft grunt from him almost pulling you into a third orgasm, your body tensing and twitching a little.

He gives you both a second to catch your breath, though he’s barely breathing heavy. He leans back down, leaving soft kisses against your lips as he pulls out of you.

“The bed,” he says softly, kissing your cheek. “Should be softer and quieter.” You can feel his dick twitching against your thigh already stiff again. “But you won’t be, will you?”

[jake-g-lockley]

Sunflower (Frankie Morales x reader)

Masterlist | Playlist

Warnings: mentions of sex, other than that just fluff

Word count: 822 words

A/N: Saw a TikTok, instantly though of Frankie 🥰 Also two fics in one day? I’m tryna feed my childrens ok 🥹

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

He was doing this on purpose. You were supposed to be completing your lesson plan but instead you're staring at the man who is doing pull-ups in front of you. The small part of your mind that was tied down to Earth was aware of the amount of saliva that had pooled in your mouth. Any more and you would’ve started to choke. Your eyes trailed past your laptop as you watched your boyfriend’s t-shirt strain under the flexing of his back muscles. 

Frankie had subtly set up the wall pull-up bar right in front of your working desk and the contraption has been the bane of your existence since he started using it. 

Who in the fuck does pull-ups at 11 pm on a Sunday night?

Frankie had tried anything in his power to distract you. He tickled you, kissed your neck and stole your laptop, but to no avail. You had practiced deep breathing techniques to immune yourself from the tickles, strained yourself from caving into Frankie’s soft kisses and your backup laptop sat perfectly under your thighs, your document safely backed up the cloud as you smiled sweetly at your fuming boyfriend. It was then when Frankie decided to (literally) pull out the big guns. 

His legs were crossed at his ankles, creating the perfect vision of his butt that was displayed in front of you. You glared at his butt as if it was the cause of all your problems. If you had a boyfriend who didn’t have such a fat, juicy butt then you’d not have a problem with your concentration. But where was the fun in that? 

His arms looked dangerous from this vantage point, shining with sweat that made his skin look like he was doused with honey.  You knew first hand how those biceps have the ability to literally smother you in your sleep. His biceps made you dizzy with delight as you could see the array of scratches you left from last night, even at a distance. 

You lick your teeth, wondering whether you could sneak a bite when a small chuckle from him threw you off balance. 

“Heh, my plan worked.” he said with a sing songy voice as he let go of the bar and walked towards you. 

“How-?”

“Your breathing gave it away, mi girasol. Besides, you stopped typing for a good fifteen minutes now.” he cut you off with a cheeky grin. 

Mi girasol.

Frankie Morales really knew how to tune you to sing the right notes. With his perfect golden retriever smile and his sweet charming words, you knew you were absolutely done for. He had bought you sunflowers on your first date, not knowing that they were one of your most favorite things in the world. The nickname stuck, and your heart swelled anytime he called you that in his native tongue. 

“I hate you, Francisco Morales.” you mumble as you feel the weight of his taunting gaze on you. 

“You’re so bad at lying.” he says pointedly as he walks around the table to kiss your forehead. 

“I am going to get rid of that pull-up bar.” you said smugly, getting up from your seat.

“Love to see you try.” Frankie retorted with a grin, crossing his arms and leaning against a nearby wall.

You stood at the doorway and looked up, wondering why the bar was so far up. Stretching one arm out, you try to grab onto the bar, but you obviously couldn't so instead, you resorted to jumping. 

You huffed, clearly annoyed at your state of affairs as Frankie continuously chuckled from where he was standing. You jumped a few more times before large hands grabbed onto you and lifted you up by your waist. You grabbed onto the bar above you and your legs dangled below you as Frankie’s big head appeared in front of you with a shit eating grin.

“Gonna admit defeat, girasol?” he smiled, cupping your face with his hands. 

“Help me do a pull-up and maybe I will.” you said, frowning at him.

“Of course, bebita.” he said as he slid his hands over your tits and abdomen before settling them onto your hips. 

He pushed you up until your chin touched the bar and as he lowered you down, you swung your legs to lock your ankles behind his back, pulling him closer, letting go of the bar as he gripped you tighter. You giggled as he started to pepper your face with kisses, his beard tickling you in all the right spots. 

You took his face in your hands and admired his earthy eyes as you pulled away. He smiled dopey back and swayed the both of you as you stroked his hair. 

“I love you, and your juicy butt, mi sol.” you said giving him a kiss on the nose. 

“I love you more, mi girasol.” he chuckles again, his eyes shining with your love. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Translations:

Mi sol: my sun

Mi girasol: my sunflower

Bebita: baby girl

Tagging: @romanarose @mintpurplemnm

Reblogs are appreciated <3 love you all so so much *muah*

[operation-cursed-sweet-tooth]

Welcome to the island of Club Penguin!

‼️questions open for Ace, Gary, PH, JPG, Rory, Dot, Agent, Aunt Arctic, Sydmull, Franky, and Rookie‼️

To find asks use #📬

To find story use #📖

To find clues outside of the story/ asks use #🔎

You will be taking part in a mysterious EPF case in the year of 2013, only a few weeks after the Halloween Party. Throughout your investigation, you will be asked to use your critical thinking skills and potential puzzle solving to help progress through whatever issues arise during your time on the case itself. You will have other EPF agents as well as the Elite Puffles around to help, including island civilians if it comes down to that. Do note that this is set in 2013! Puffle creatures, such as Dino puffles and so on will not be present right away! Any other puffles, such as the border collie, tabby, ghost and such will not be allowed to show as they were introduced in 2014, however questions about them can still be asked just wont be answered as though they currently exist.

This story will be partially interactive via polls and sometimes character asks whenever deemed appropriate.

⚠️This story will have dark elements and visuals, including character death and gore!! If you are uncomfortable with such themes then please don’t interact!⚠️

This au will be posted on 2 separate platforms, Instagram and Tumblr under the same username featured here. If you have trouble finding the account, please go to my main account via instagram and it will be tagged in one of the pinned posts, the username being LilMissRandom4607

Please read any previous asks before asking a question!! If it’s already been answered it’s probably not going to be answered again. Plus I hide clues in most the text 😉

Please keep most the asks close to the plot of the story as possible- I don’t know many fandoms and don’t want to misinterpret it nor does it make sense to any of the characters anyway. However you may be creative with the questions, and allowed to be inappropriate with them (to an extent!)

There won’t be a regular posting schedule as art takes a while to do even when I’m on a drawing spree, plus I’m working on a side horror au while working on this

Warning once again there will be dark themes present! Including darker topics and visuals! Don’t like, just block or ignore the post please!

Asks will be open but I may not get to everyone! Just please be patient with me as I’m both the artist and writer for this story

Character shipping will be present!! If you don’t like a ship pair, keep it to yourself I don’t care if you don’t like it, not my problem, don’t be rude to strangers cause you hate something they like period; this will result in a potential block if necessary

Headcanons will be present! Especially for Rookie and Gary. There will be others present for each of the agents but it’ll be most noticeable through the two mentioned

Swearing will be present!! While I myself as the artist of this story isn’t entirely comfortable with swearing, I tend to use it to push along part of the narrative and make things a little more tense whenever deemed necessary, and to push more towards headcanon I’ve built for some of the characters, if you are uncomfortable with such then please don’t interact or comment anything negative about it please

If you do have questions for me, the artist themself, please don’t hesitate to ask! Whether it be through DM or anonymous ask I’d be happy to answer!

Artist and writer is @lilmissrandom4607

If I need to later on, this post will be edited to accommodate whatever I needed to add✨

[danwhobrowses]

One Piece Chapter 1114 - Initial Thoughts

And we are back

TCB uploaded on a Thursday for the first time in yonks, but it had to be midway through my trip back from work

but anyway, GLOBAL WARMING! Vegapunk is pouring the tea, the world is sinking, so what more does he have to say and how will the world react?

Spoilers for the Chapter, Support the Official Release Also!

Yamato's pilgrimage involves taking the long way around Wano to bring Yasuie's sword to the Enma shrine (the god of the underworld not Zoro's sword)

We'll likely encounter a bunch of characters on the trek but it surprises me that he's bringing back Yasuie's sword and not Shusui to Ryuma's grave. Either are still fine but I feel like that had more narrative significance, though if that was the task then Zoro wouldn't have been able to visit his grave off-screen - which should've very much been on-screen!

You know the tea is spilling when the chapter title is 'The wings of Icarus'

Naturally, the world takes in the revelation we left off on

The Navy reacts first, the Vice Admirals in disbelief but Akainu silent

Mock Town of all places is next, filled with nonbelievers of dreams, they mock the smartest man on the planet and deem themselves wise

Water Seven are shocked too, finding it difficult to believe that it's the whole world and not just them

Paulie and Pepe Lulu cameo too (love Franky but in another life I would've liked to have seen Paulie as a Straw Hat, would've been a perfect foil for Sanji too since he's a bashful perv, plus Nami would totally abuse how bad he is with gambling)

Doflamingo of course is revelling in the news, mocking Magellan about how this affects Impel Down

It's so surreal to me how we all know that Doflamingo is a menace, his debut literally involved him pitting marines against one another, but now he's in Impel Down he's just chilling, on his back just vibing with people like Magellan and Tsuru

It seems the Mother Flame's flooding did cause some problems for Impel Down

Doffy predicts that it'll take 5 more meters for most of the world to be flooded

He also implies evacuating 'somewhere high up' - like the Red Line maybe?

Fishman Island also reacts to the news, like everyone else they find it hard to believe

Back at Egghead though, the Buster Call don't care if it's valid, it's coming from Vegapunk so it holds weight but either way it's bringing unrest and discourse

The Gorosei meanwhile are livid, even considering going scorched earth to stop it

York is also annoyed, suck on it

Vegapunk makes a prediction, accurately pointing out the weather effects of Lulusia being wiped out

That for sure has got people more convinced, given how it's pre-recorded

Surprise Smoothie and Mont D'or cameos too!

And another already flooded island is surprised how much to a tee Vegapunk got the prediction right

Damn even Tonjit from Long Ring Long Land is getting a cameo!

Aokiji bandaged up also listens from Fullalead

Vegapunk also calls out that the earthquakes were not natural, which really sets the Gorosei off

The Straw Hats continue to fend off Saturn to protect Robin, with Lilith also in on the fight

Most of them get knocked away though, being caught by Robin's Spider Web

Saturn does still appear to be showing some damage, so still props to the crew for doing the job

Because Saturn has shifted his priority from Robin, making his way to the power station to protect it

Saturn crashes in, as Vegapunk explains his obsession with finding an unlimited energy source

Back to his 'human' form, Saturn basks in the Mother Flame

I was expecting something different, but it is a tiny flame kept in a giant tank

I wonder if the S-108 and the A&Mu stand for something? The latter are not elements on the Periodic Table

Also it's a flame inside liquid, A FLAME INSIDE OF LIQUID!

The Sleeping Giant still is on the move, passing unfazed through fire and flame

Even the Giants are struggling in the flames, still in pursuit by Warcury

Luffy however is back in Gear Fifth, that fermented shark meat must've done the trick

Marejois is stirring though, because Vegapunk has just brought up the void century

Most of the Celestial Dragons are in uproar, blaming the marines and feeling big enough to take on Vegapunk to kill him themselves

Though, interestingly, Saint Shalria - Charloss' sister - seems almost intrigued, it appears not all the Celestial Dragons know about the Void Century

Vegapunk goes on to talk about how the Poneglyphs are key to the void century

In a woodland a giant lounges as he takes in the news, the familiar laugh of Dereshishishi coming from him

I'm still not certain it's Jaguar D. Saul mind you, why hide his face for so long?

Man we're even going as far back as Orange Town!

With the Mayor and Chouchou!

The benefits of having a 20+ year manga is how you can bring back so many minor characters briefly to just show the entire scale of the world that's been built

We also see Margaret from Amazon Lily, her face seems conflicted

Vegapunk however explains that his second sin was trying to decipher the Poneglyphs, using documentation gathered from Ohara

Since Luffy could hear the broadcast I'm sure Robin is hearing it too, I wonder how she feels about Vegapunk about to lore drop a bunch of Poneglyph stuff she didn't get to discover herself

Brook is also calling for Zoro and Jinbe, not sure what their status is, same with Franky, Bonney, Atlas and Sanji vs V. Nusjuro

'History is a story, after all' is a lowkey banger line

But the Labophase is behaving differently, the clouds are stretching

Edison's plan has come into action, making the clouds wider so the Sunny can drop off into the ocean

Credit to Usopp for figuring it out too

Seems like the little tyke isn't making it out, it may end up being just Lilith at this stage

Vegapunk keeps going, stating that he only knows little about the void century, so he'll give the world some of the only facts he knows

Luffy strikes Warcury again with a Gear Fifth big punch, but the result hurts his hand all the same

Meanwhile Vegapunk details the story of a person born 900 years ago to a bountiful and advanced kingdom

Just like Nika, he had an elastic and stretchy body - which the world will very much connect to Luffy - called Joy Boy

Joy Boy was the first man to take to the seas: The First Pirate

But a break again next week, I know last week was a SJ break than an Oda break but c'mon I feel like he does this every year!

Oda sure loves to set a stage huh? What do you mean Joy Boy was the first pirate? That'd imply he's rebelling against something right? Was the advanced kingdom too restrictive maybe? So much still yet to be said

For the most part, what the characters were doing this chapter were secondary to this announcement built up, it's still cool that the Straw Hats deterred Saturn away from Robin - though we are overdue seeing Jinbe and Zoro do something of substance. Ju Peter and Mars are still kinda floating around, Doll and Bluegrass were circling the island last we saw them too. But yeah, lots of unique and surprising cameos, the mystery deepens as the plot continues somehow to thicken.

[gatitties]

Just wondering but I would be pleased for you to write some platonic straw hat headcanons with a male s/o who had eaten a speed fruit that allows him to move at extreme high speeds but it also allows him to survive falls from heights and collisions that would kill a normal person and maybe to further explain this devil fruit I'm just gonna have to send a link here bc it's much more easy: https://shipoffools.fandom.com/wiki/Soku_Soku_no_Mi#Strengths_and_Weaknesses And about s/o's personality is that he's similar to sonic, quick witted, free-spirited and easy-going, and likes to go on adventures with the crew. although he has a short temper and is often impatient with slower things and at times he just likes to show off but also has a bit of an ego. Other than that, he is pretty much loyal to his friends and will protect his friends if they're in trouble.

─ Strawhats x male!reader (platonic)

─ Summary: just some headcannons about you being a menace to society most of the time

─ Warnings: none

Part two / Part three

I hope this is good enough 🫠

─ How you came into the life of this crew was curious…

─ You were just on a random island and you decided to go for a run, the problem is that you activated your fruit and you just fell down a ravine, luckily there was a ship right below.

─ You fell on top of poor Usopp who was working on some bombs for his slingshot, the poor boy just thought he was dead when he opened his eyes and was lying there looking at the sky.

─ But his mind began to work and luckily he didn't have much more than a few scratches and bruises, nothing serious, however his eyes bulged to see how you calmly got up, removing the splinters from your clothes, "HOW are you still alive?!" "It was a small fall, I wouldn't die for it, I'm sorry I wrecked whatever you were doing by the way."

─ And you just wanted to get out of there, but a sharp sword made you unable to go any further if you didn't want to be beheaded.

─ After some threats, some insults and hitting from Nami, you decided that you should at least fix the mess you've caused.

─ And you know, one thing leads to another and maybe they got attached to some of your ways while you were helping them, of course you did too but you wouldn't say it out loud.

─ You used to travel alone but now you have some friends to turn to if you have problems, Luffy doesn't ask for many requirements for you to be in the crew either.

─ And speaking of Luffy… he will be one of your greatest contributions so that you don't get bored, although Nami will scold you two because your tag game sometimes goes too far.

─ You will inevitably have a lot of arguments with Sanji at first, but he doesn't see you as an 'opponent' like Zoro.

─ Which leads to you being in arguments between these two, like you're the little brother and you have to choose one side or the other, "I'm telling you that he prefers to cook with me" "that's stupid, he always enjoys training with me" "Who would you rather go with?" "Franky"

─ And despite enjoying time with the two of them, Franky always had interesting things to look at, and you were trying to talk him out of it in order to make the ship go much faster, you know, speed is your thing after all.

─ "For the tenth time, no, I won't put those thrusters to go faster, it would waste a lot of energy" "I can give you that energy!"

─ The only moments of more tranquility that you have are with Brook, Robin and Nami, because normally you are someone a little restless when you are with your captain, however these three manage to bring out the calm that you can not have while playing.

─ You are also someone somewhat reckless who tends to underestimate the capabilities of your opponents, that's how your ego works sometimes and you end up wearing yourself out in battles to the point of exhaustion.

─ Chopper is always so worried, because he sees you bump into things while you run and you just go back to walking like nothing happened, "Time to get checked out!" "But yesterday you did it?" "I never know when you can get really hurt so it's daily check ups for you" "Oh come on…"

─ You are probably one of the youngest in the crew, so they will surely see you as someone to take care of and protect.

─ That doesn't mean that they don't know that you know how to take care of yourself, they trust you but whenever they can help you in your battles they do.

─ Usopp is probably the one to calm you down when before a fight the villain starts describing their evil plan or harsh life, "Just sum it up dammit, we don't care about your filthy life!" "P-please calm down, we don't need any more trouble with a guy like that…"

─ Something about you is that you don't give a shit about what people talk about you, but if it's towards someone you appreciate, you'll just lose it.

─ Jinbe is probably like a second father (or the father you never had), he is the one you feel the most respect for and the one you joke with the least, plus you like to learn some karate and you are a quick learner.

─ They all appreciate that you care about harmful comments or actions towards them, but they also won't let you kick a guy at 200 km/h for saying something bad about them, "Just let me hit them, they'll see how pretty the stars are if they don't die from the impact!" "You can't just go around hitting random people for giving us dirty looks!"

[beefrobeefcal]

https://x.com/discorobak/status/1696111755909300397?s=46&t=WH4bIMHLTxVR1rMw3VWJ_w OKAYYY i saw this tweet and thought: what if mouse and frankie go on a camping trip and mouse packs a bunch of classic camping food like hotdogs and burgers and popcorn… but especially S’MORES. and frankie loves them so much that he have a little fun with it… (along the same lines as the just desserts update if yknow what i mean 🤭) so excited for more updates, i love frankie and mouse so much !!

HELL YEAH, NONNIE. This is dedicated to all the new Friendos Beefro has made on the platform-formally-known-as-Twitter. Y'all got me riled up!

Beefro 👌🥩💜

--------<3---------

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Chubby!Frankie one shot

The Catfish & The Mouse: Camping Can Be In-Tents

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a dry spell, Mouse gets Frankie into the wilderness.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Word Count: 3,326

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, oral (m receiving), p in the v - unwrapped (don't be silly, cover you willy, kids!), eating, belly praise, belly stuffing, rough sexy stuff, fingering (f receiving), hair pulling, tail-gating.

Author's Notes: I know it's been a bit... between a crisis and a cold, your friendly neighbourhood Beefro was shooketh. Thanks for kicking around! Thanks to @nevergoingbacknowshine and the TDS brigade, and of course to the lovely @theywhowriteandknowthings and @harryleatherfit

--------<3---------

You had both been so wrapped up in your work lately. The stress of your jobs made the time you were spending together strained; arguments leading into tense bedtime routines had become more normal, and that intimate connection had become something neither of you could bring yourselves to admit you needed from one another. It had been over a month since he’d fucked you, let alone touched you like that and it sucked. You missed your sweet, soft, gentle, fuckable Frankie, him being replaced with an irritable and short-tempered grouch, although you did see the odd fleck of his old self come though occasionally. And you knew he missed his Mouse; you’d become an overly emotional and temperamental silhouette of yourself. That’s why this weekend was so important – it was your reset, your chance to reconnect. You’d suggested it, knowing that Frankie would jump at the chance to go camping.

You could hear Frankie swearing in the garage as he collected all the camping gear while you packed the food in the various coolers and bags.

“Mouse? Need your help.”, he called out.

As you started to move towards the garage, his calls out to you became a little more panicked.

“MOUSE?!?”

“I’m coming, Frankie!”

Opening the door to your garage, you tried not to laugh aloud at the sight before you. Frankie was wedged between the wall and your spare fridge, trying to reach the packed-away tent on the shelf above and had caused several other stored boxes to come dangerously close to toppling on his head from the top of the fridge.

“What are you doing?”, you laughed as you pushed the offending boxes back into place with a broom handle.

“I don’t know what happened! I guess I bumped the fridge too hard or something....”, he grumbled as he unwedged himself. “I got in there no problem when I put the tent away last year.”

You smiled and patted his belly, straining against his now-too-tight t-shirt. “Well, I would say that there’s a bit more to you than last year, honey.”

He looked down at your hand on his tummy and huffed a laugh as he gave you a blushing smile. “Yeah... I guess so.”

You helped Frankie collect the rest of the camping gear and load up his truck for the morning.

*****

Pre-dawn departures were Frankie’s specialty, not yours. Despite him not being a morning person, the prospect of getting out of the city and on the open road, along with years in the military, had him all sunshine and rainbows at 4:30 am, while you were trying to keep your eyes open long enough to get from the bed, into your jacket and into the truck. Frankie already had your air Pods, a blanket and pillow in the passenger seat for you, knowing that it would be a lost cause to ask you to bring them yourself.

By the time Frankie backed out of your driveway, you were back asleep and didn’t answer him when he asked if you wanted a coffee as he turned into the McDonald’s Drive Thru. Even without an answer, he got you one, as well as enough breakfast sandwiches to keep himself entertained for a good part of the morning.

You finally felt rested enough to open your eyes by 9:30 am to see Frankie humming along with his music, tapping gently on the steering wheel.

“Hey... have a good sleep?”, he asked smiling when he saw you pull your air Pods out.

You nodded and groaned as you stretched and yawned. “Not a bad sleep... where are we?”

“About an hour or so from the lake.”, he responded with a grin.

Frankie was about to be in his element; in the outdoors, his survival instincts kicked in high gear, and he loved every minute of it. You, on the other hand, felt lost without cell service or Wi-Fi, and detested with every fiber of your being the creepy crawlies that seemed to come out in droves at your arrival. But part of Frankie loving the outdoors was trying to keep you as comfortable as possible so he could enjoy you at the same time.

*****

Arriving at the secluded and private site was the easy part; setting up was not so much. Frankie was trying to get the tent set up, and since it was put away in a hurry last year and he didn’t check it when you got home or when he pulled it out the day before, everything had come out of the bag in a jumbled mess, and you had made the mistake of pointing out his folly right after he’d realized he’d forgotten his hammer.

"If you would just let me help, Frankie!”, you pleaded with thinly masked frustration at his inability to take your help.

He grunted as his eyes narrowed at you from under his ball cap and you stared right back at him.

He broke the stare first with an eyeroll and a huff, returning to the tangled mess that would hopefully be your tent and you turned and started to unload the truck. By the time you’d unloaded, gotten the bags and containers arranged, and set up the chairs around the vacant campfire, Frankie had gotten the tent up and was crouched down, hammering the pegs into the ground with a rock. You couldn’t help but watch as his broad back moved and flexed under his t-shirt, while his thick, beefy arms were bursting out from the sleeves. You longed for those arms to toss you down onto whatever surface was available and have his body pin you down and fuck you senseless. God damn it, you missed him in a debilitating way that made you feel hollow.

He caught you staring and briefly gave you an unreadable look then went back to hammering more pegs, and you could feel the flush of heat wash over your body. God damn it, you needed him.

It was well passed noon when Frankie got the fire going and you’d gotten the stuff out for hot dogs. Maybe you could ease yourself into his arms with food? You were so wrapped up in your thoughts, you didn’t realize your mouth was open and you were staring at him again until a bird flew far too close to you and snapped you out of your thoughts. You quickly tried to look like you knew what task you were trying to complete, but Frankie saw the whole thing. His eyes met yours for just a moment and you gave him a small, forced smile, trying to play it off like it was nothing, like he didn’t see what he thought he saw. Your eyes went back down to the cutting board on the picnic table and the onions you were slicing up for the hot dogs.

Getting the metal rods out, you pierced the hot dogs on their ends and started cooking them. Frankie set up the air mattress and set out the sleeping bags. You were tempted to tell him yours could be left in the truck so you could share one, but you kept your mouth closed and focused on the hot dogs. Once ready, you silently plated them in the buns, dressed exactly how Frankie liked them and you placed the plate in front of him. You forwent your own, your stomach in knots, and started cleaning up, knowing the lecture you would get if it weren’t done properly because it could attract bugs and god knows what else to your site.

Frankie sat and ate his hot dogs, and after he finished one, his irritation cooled down. He watched you, his desperation for your touch had increased after he caught you ogling him. He knew he’d been completely out of line as of late, his frustration at his work dog piling on you for no other reason than you were in the line of fire. Your back was to him as you dug through a bag, and he watched the way your lithe body move. He imagined the sweet noises you would make for him as he railed you against the truck. God damn it, he needed you in a way that should have made him feel filthy.

He realized you were looking for his pajamas to put in the tent for him. His heart skipped a beat when he looked in the tent and saw his toiletries and swim trunks laid out on his sleeping bag; you were taking care of him, and he felt like a complete asshole. God damnit, he missed you.

*****

For the rest of the afternoon, the two of you moved through a slow dance of silent, touchless fore playing, catching one another giving once overs and longing stares, while trying to break the other’s resolve with movements. By the time you pulled out what you’d planned for dinner – two big cans of Chef Boyardee ravioli and garlic toast – you’d decided that he was going to fuck you, whether he knew it or not.

“We can just have hot dogs again, baby.” Frankie’s voice, although softer and gentler than it had been in a while, cut through the silence between you, but you didn’t want to look up to him, you wanted him to come to you and make you stop. So, you pretended you couldn’t hear him while you stood with your back to him and the fire.

You had no idea he’d gotten so close to you when he gently put his hand out and took the can opener from you, placing it on the picnic table. He held your hand in his, feeling your body tremble with just his touch, and turned you around to look at him. This was the gentlest with one another in over a month, and you could barely contain the utter arousal and excitement at this small, sweet act of intimacy.

He pulled back from you, and you looked up at him. His soft brown eyes were screaming in need, scanning your face and begging for you to say something. So, you did.

 “I miss you, baby, and I – “

Frankie cut you off abruptly by smashing his lips onto yours, his mouth fiercely fighting to get any kind of barrier between you gone. Your body melted against his as he pulled you further into him. His tongue ran along your lips, looking to deepen the kiss further, and when he was granted entrance, he moaned into your mouth and his hand ran down your side and hitched your knee up onto his hip.

Finally parting, and both panting to catch your breath, your lips still almost touching.

“Fuck, Mouse… baby… I miss you, too…”

He kissed you again and as you both found your rhythm again, his belly grumbled loudly, telling him it was time to eat.

“Fuck…”, he grumbled as he pushed his forehead against yours, and you smiled at him.

“Let’s get you fed, baby.”

*****

Almost a full pack of hot dogs later, Frankie was getting full. Sitting back into his camping chair, he stifled a burp and smiled at you.

“You want any more?”, you asked, holding up one of the metal rods.

He raised an eyebrow at you, then grinned. “No, princess… I gotta have room for dessert.”

Frankie stood up slowly, and as he reached his full height, his full tummy pushed up his t-shirt. He stood in front of you and cupped your jaw, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he looked down at you. Your lips parted and your breathing quickened, anticipation of what he would do or say at an all-time high.

“You got any marshmallows, princess?” His voice was low and thick with need as his eyes looked into yours.

It took you a moment to realize what he’d asked you, not anticipating that.

“W-what?”

“Marshmallows.”, he spoke slowly with a dark grin on his face.

You turned and reached for the grocery bag of marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate. He removed his hand from your jaw and took it, then reached for the metal rod. He winked at you and returned to his chair by the fire. As he got few marshmallows onto the rod, you stared at him, confused and horny.

“Frankie?...”

“Better get those clothes off if you don’t want to get s’mores all over them, princess.”, he said in a nonchalant voice, not even looking up at you.

You hesitated but remembered that you’d specifically booked a private site, and other campers would only be able to hear you. Once fully naked, minus your slider sandals, you stood off to the side of Frankie, and he looked over at you.

“Fuck, baby… missed you…”, he groaned slack jawed, his eyes racking over you. He reached out for your hand and pulled you to straddle one of his legs, and his sticky fingers tweaked one of your nipples.

“Frankie… fuck, I need you…”, you moaned as you shivered at his touch.

He grabbed one of the toasted marshmallows off the rod and a piece of chocolate, squishing them together between his fingers and dragged the warm concoction down the valley between your tits. You yelped and his other held you firmly in place.

“Told you I needed room for dessert, princess.”, he said huskily, then licked his wide, flat tongue up the chocolaty trail and sucked on your neck.

“Please, Frankie… need you so bad… don’t tease…”, you begged in a breathy, desperate voice.

You began to rock your core against his rough denim as he smeared more s’mores on your nipples and chest. He licked and sucked the sugary residue off you as your weeping, aching cunt drooled, and you grinded your core into his jeans. Every time the rough denim texture hit your clit in just that way, you arched your back into his mouth and moaned, while he repeated his smearing, licking and sucking. You needed more so you reached your hand down and began to palm his crotch and could feel the weight of his thick, heavy cock coming to attention. He whined as he held your nipple between his teeth and his hips bucked, pushing his full belly into you.

Your bodies were screaming for the other, too long since you’d touched one another like this, and the need and desperation was heavy in your breathing and grasping of each other.

He dropped his head back and grabbed your arm, pulling you hand away from his rock-hard cock, but your hips grinding against his jeans kept going.

“Mouse… gonna come in my pants if you keep that up… wanna fuck you… please baby… gonna come on my jeans? Huh, princess?... So fucking needy… Jesus… missed this body… come on, baby… keep going…”

He watched you, his hands only holding you in place and not assisting with your movements. You could feel you were close, and his words just egged you on to your climax. You cried out as you came but didn’t break eye contact. Frankie’s grip on you tighten, and his hands began to move you to keep your hips grinding his leg, and he groaned at you while you came through gritted teeth

“Atta girl… good girl, yeah… make that pussy weep, princess… that’s it, baby… soaking my jeans… can’t wait to fuck your sweet little pussy again… been too long…”

Before you could fully come down, Frankie had you standing and was bending you over the open tailgate to his truck, then ran a finger into your glistening, swollen folds before plunging it into your weeping hole. You cried out and arched your back, but his hand rubbed between your shoulders, coaxing you down. His hand splayed out on your back and held you firmly in place as he added another finger and increased his speed.

“Yeah, baby… pussy missed me… I missed her so fucking bad…”, he panted, his eyes focused on watching his thick wet fingers disappear over and over into your cunt. “Never want to go that long without you again, princess… fuck you look so good getting fucked on my fingers… so fucking wet and warm… come on, baby… know you’re close… I can feel it… let go… come on, princess… be a good girl and come on my fingers then I’ll fuck you raw…”

His final words shot through you, and you came loudly and squirting all over his hand and arm. You could hear the liquid splashing onto the dirt; it was obscene, and it was perfect.

“Good girl…”, he praised breathlessly, pressing a kiss to your back before sucking his fingers clean.

You could hear his belt being undone and then heard his jeans being tossed onto the ground. He grabbed your hip with one hand and used the other to line himself up with your entrance. Slowly pushing in, he moaned, and you whined, trying to push your hips back into him to make him go faster.

“So fucking impatient… So fucking needy.”, he grunted as he held you in place and buried himself to the hilt into you, and you felt his full, heavy belly resting against your ass.

“Frankie… please move, baby… need you to move…”, you begged, crying out pathetically.

He huffed a laugh and gripped your hips hard in his large hands.

“Need me to be rough, princess? … need it hard?”, he grunted as his hips began to move slowly. Frankie wanted to savour this with you, he didn’t want to rush it, didn’t want to spoil it.

“God, please, Frankie!”, you cried out, his slow movements agonizing and leaving you needing so much more.

“Promise me, princess… promise me you won’t let me go that long again from burying myself in your gorgeous pussy…”

His hips started to thrust at the same pace but harder, and you panted a whiny “uh-huh!” in response to him. It was enough of an answer for Frankie. His hips began to snap into yours faster and harder.

The weight of his bulk behind you mixed with the momentum he was building pushed him deep into you each time he thrusted and forced out a loud cry from your mouth. You’d more than likely have bruises on the front of your thighs from the tailgate, but you didn’t care.

“Oh fuck… Mouse…. Baby… missed this… god damnit, your pussy’s like heaven… fucking Christ… yeah… oh fuck, fuck, fuck… baby, not-fuck!... not gonna last much longer… need you to- ugh - come…”

“I’m cl-close… oh fuck… oh god… Fr-Frankie… please… please, please, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!”

You came with a loud cry, arching your back again and Frankie pulled you flush with his belly and he thrusted into you.

“Frankie… please… come in my mouth… wanna eat your… your come…”, you panted, and he groaned, pulling out of you.

You turned around and he grabbed your hair, pulling you down on your knees, and he shoved his hard, glistening member into your mouth. He fucked into your mouth for a moment, and his hot spend shot in ribbons into your throat and mouth, spilling out onto your chin and chest with each thrust.

He finally stilled and grunted as he stood back and watched you run your fingers over your chin then suck his come off your digits, humming in satisfaction.

“Fuck…”, he groaned as he watched you, moving backwards to sit in the camping chair again.

You stood up and walked towards him; leaning forward, you pressed a messy kiss to his mouth, sharing your combined taste with him and receiving a hint of chocolate from him. You pressed a hand down on his full belly and smiled.

“You still got room in there for more dessert, Frankie… What can I get you, baby?”, you asked with a wry grin, lifting his shirt and rubbing his stomach.

He looked up at you, eyes looking glazed over in desire. “You, princess.”, he breathed back.

--------<3---------

TAGLIST:

@theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: Gratitude

Read on Ao3

My Frankie Morales masterlist

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Reader/you (cishet woman)

Warnings: Mention of shitty exes with 1950's views on women, foreplay, fellatio, dick riding which is a form of transportation but only if you need to get to cloud n:o 9, unprotected PiV sex but it's fine (this is fic so you might not be unless you wrap that shit up), some sweet dirty talk but nothing bad, creampie.

Summary: You thank Frankie for doing his part of the cleaning before Christmas. And, you know, for being awesome in general.

Words: 2,670

The drone of the vacuum cleaner greets you when you step in through the front door, and once you’ve kicked off your shoes and hung your coat, you trail its cord to the living-room, where Frankie’s moved the coach to reach the nozzle behind it. He’s not playing music, like the two of you often do when you’re cleaning the apartment, and his jaw is set pretty tight, but when you enter and he looks up, a smile slowly spreads on his face. He hits the off button with his foot and draws his hand through his hair, wiping back the stray locks from his forehead.

”Hi, baby.”

”Hi.” You walk up to him and give him a kiss. ”You started without me?”

You’re not hosting this Christmas, but the holidays are a good excuse to clean properly. Luckily, both you and Frankie are pretty tidy and share standards for household cleanliness, but the problem right now is time. Both of you are working long hours and between that and the December darkness, it’s hard to find the energy and motivation to clean. You’ve decided to do a little each night during the week that leads up to Christmas; that way, you can do a little each day and still have a clean and fresh home on Christmas Eve.

”Figured I might as well,” Frankie shrugs.

You immediately see that there’s more to it. Frankie’s fine most of the time but there are still horrors lingering in the deep recesses of his mind. They don’t surface as often but when they do, they’re hard on him. He has his coping mechanisms, thanks to therapy and you. Busying himself with concrete tasks is one way of keeping the demons at bay. Cleaning is therapy.

”You want to talk about it?” you ask him quietly, hand resting softly on his broad shoulder. Frankie blinks, seemingly surprised, then casts his long-lashed eyes down in chagrin.

”Should’ve known you’d see right through me.”

”I always do.”

”Hmm.”

”Frankie?”

He pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head. ”I’m good. It’s not that bad. Cleaning helps.”

”Okay, baby.” You kiss the hollow between two long, lean muscles in the front of his neck, and gently disentangle yourself from his embrace.

”You want me to get started on dinner?” you ask, raising your hand to draw our fingers through his thick hair. The way he visibly relaxes at your touch makes your heart swell.

”That would be lovely. Thank you.”

”Thank you for cleaning.”

You lean in to kiss him, placing several little pecks on his smiling lips. You really are infinitely grateful for Frankie and how natural it is to him to keep his home tidy. Your experience in that department hasn’t been good. Cleaning always caused arguments with every single one of your exes. One of them, who grew up in a home where his mother did absolutely everything, even cleaned her grown-up sons’ apartments when they were single, seriously thought women had a special gene for cleaning. You’ll never know what you saw in him but the experience made you ask Frankie on your very first date if he knew how to clean a home from top to bottom. He thought it was an euphemism for something dirty, and blushed like a schoolgirl. When the misunderstanding had been cleared up, he frowned and said yes, doesn’t everybody?

He was a keeper from that day on.

”You know,” you now add, ”boyfriends who do the cleaning get special treats.”

”Is that so?” Frankie rumbles low against your lips. Good god, his voice does things to you.

”That is definitely so,” you confirm conquettishly. ”I’m gonna treat you so good tonight, Francisco.”

”Mmm... looking forward to that.” Frankie looks a lot happier when he goes back to vacuuming, smiling broadly from the slap on his ass that you give him when he turns on the loud machine again.

Later, after the living-room has been cleaned, dinner eaten, and dishes washed, you take Frankie to bed. You give him a neck and shoulder rub, not that you’re very good at it, but he loves your hands on you.

”We go so much of the cleaning done today,” you tell him softly when you’re seated behind him in your underwear, carefully working a tense spot where his shoulder and neck meet. Frankie hisses low, tensing up for a second but relaxing just as quickly when you kiss his shoulder blade.

”One thing checked off the list,” he agrees, and you hear the satisfaction in his voice.

”You know, if you’re too tired for it, I don’t mind skipping the big clean before Christmas,” you suggest, fingers finding another knot in his shoulder. Working it carefully with one hand, you let your other hand run up the length of his neck and get lost in his soft curls. Frankie exhales in a happy sigh.

”I like having a clean home for the holidays,” he reminds you. ”And you know it helps me deal with... shit.”

”I know,” you assure him, pressing a kiss to the back of his head. ”Just sayin’.”

He hums low when you start to knead both his shoulders while trailing your lips up the side of his neck. The massage turns into caresses as you press yourself to him from behind and wrap your arms around him, Frankie turning his head so that he can reach you for a kiss. Soft and loving at first, it quickly ignites and spreads sparks through both of you. Your lips grow insistent and Frankie starts to contort until he’s facing you on the bed. He lays you down, lips staying on yours until you’re flat on your back, then he starts to trail kisses down your jawline to your neck.

”Frankie,” you remind him with a purr, ”I’m supposed to be doing this to you.”

”I’m not stopping you,” he murmurs, still spreading kisses over your skin while his hand travels down your body, softly squeezing a bra cup before tugging it down and freeing up one tit. His lips follow and he greedily licks at your budding nipple as his hand travels south and eventually slips underneath the waistband of your panties. You let him make you wet, enjoy the teasing brushes of his fingers over your slit, the kisses that follow his hand down your stomach. When he starts to pull down your panties and his mouth gets close to the growing desire between your legs, you stop him, clamping your thighs together. Frankie kisses your belly button and smirks.

”But this is the best part...”

”Believe me, I know,” you smile back, pulling him up for a kiss, ”but we’re not about that tonight.”

”We’re not?”

”Nope.”

”Then what are we about?” he wiggles his eyebrows, making you laugh.

”We’re all about you, Francisco Morales.”

You gently nudge him to roll over onto his back, then straddle his thighs and bend down to do to him what he just did to you: kiss his long, strong neck, lick and bite his nipples until they are pebbles against your lips. Your hand has found his erection already and is gently teasing it, like he was teasing you moments earlier. You kiss your way down his stomach, taking care to love every inch of the soft flesh that you know bothers him sometimes, look up at him to let him know that you love all of him, every bit that he doesn’t. Reaching the waistband of his shorts, you caress his hips and let your hands travel around to grab his ass, making him giggle unexpectedly.

”That tickles.”

You ghost your fingers over his hipbone again. ”This?”

Frankie twitches. ”Yeah, don’t do that, unless you want a laugh fest instead of sex.”

”Don’t they say that unless you can laugh together in bed, you shouldn’t even be having sex?” you tease him, tracing one single feather-light finger over his hip. You feel his muscles flex, but he doesn’t jump.

”They say a lot of things.”

You come up to kiss him. His arms go around you at once, pulling you right into the warm length of his body, his tenting boxers a stiff promise against your thigh.

”I love you,” you tell him between kisses. ”You’re perfect.”

”You are.”

”I know.” You pull away and resettle between his legs, bending down to nuzzle his hard length through the boxers. Frankie sighs in exasperation but you take your time before you relieve him of his underwear. Ducking down, you kiss and lick first one thick thigh, then the other, his hard cock twitching as it gets lost in the tickle of your hair.

”Babe...” he moans, reaching down to stroke himself. You swat his hand away lovingly.

”I know, you just have to be patient.”

”You’re killing me.”

”Not yet,” you wink at him, getting a strangled laugh in return as you finally close your fingers around his girth and swirl your thumb over the wet tip. You don’t tease him anymore but start to lick the salty head of his cock with great care, as if you were a cat mommy cleaning her babies.

”God, baby...” Frankie whines, stroking your hair and reaching for your hand. You take it and knit your fingers together, smiling up at him as you take him in your mouth. It’s always a bit of a struggle: he’s wide and hard and veiny, but you’ve had a lot of practice and can handle it now, even if you can’t take all of him like this. You work your hand on the thick base of his cock and your mouth on the top, meeting in the middle as you drool on him and get him all wet.

Frankie’s let go of your hand now and is burying both hands in his hair, eyes pressed close as he moans nonsense, blown away by your tender loving care. You take your time and go slow, in no hurry to get him off. This isn’t for that, it’s just foreplay.

When he moans your name, and his hips twitch, you release his cock with a wet pop and wipe your mouth. You know his cues, his tells, and it’s time to stop so he doesn’t blow. You come up to give him a wet, loving kiss.

”Good?”

”Madre de Dios...”

”So, good,” you grin before rolling down next to him and taking off your panties. Straddling Frankie again, you fix his eyes with yours as you reach behind you to unclasp your bra, releasing your tits to freedom as you whisk the garment to the side.

”Hmm,” Frankie hums, ”it never gets old. Love seeing the girls like this.”

”So predictable,” you shake your head, but you’re pleased with his adoration as he sits up enough to bury his face between said girls. He motorboats them playfully before focusing on one, kissing and licking the soft flesh in search of the nipple. When finding it, he devours it immediately and starts to suck forcefully. Your head falls back as you moan loudly, a direct line of pleasure flooding from your chest down to your pussy, making it throb even harder.

”Frankie...” you whine, pulling back a little but surrendering to his growled protest. You lean into his mouth and hands, finding him between your thighs and almos lazily guiding him into you, one inch at a time. When he’s fully sheathed in you, Frankie releases your tits and instead holds you close, breathing in short stutters as he rests his forehead to yours. You shift a little, brows drawing together momentarily from the insane stretch. Frankie cups your cheek and brings a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

”Relax, my love,” he groans, himself as taken with the tightness as you are. ”You can take me.”

”I can take you,” you acknowledge, hands on his broad shoulders drawing strength from him. ”Just give me a minute.”

”You can have two.”

Gradually, you manage to accomodate him, and you make him lie down on his back. You hiss as the changed angle makes it feel like he’s all the way up past your cervix.

”Goddamn, baby, that’s deep,” you shake your head with a little laugh. ”It always gets me.”

”Always gets you off...”

You slap Frankie’s tummy gently. ”Knock it off or I won’t ride you.”

”As if you could stop now.”

”You’re right,” you sigh as you start to move tentatively, seeking the right spots and angles, finding them faster than expected. ”Frankie...”

”I know, baby, it’s okay, take what you need from me,” he groans as he grabs your hips to hold on for the ride. You move tightly back and forth to hit your spot, sitting up straight and rubbing your clit with one hand as the other cups your breast. It’s a sure way of having an orgasm, riding Frankie like this, having all of him inside of you and rubbing everything at once, because he’s filling every inch of you, the delectable fullness driving you crazy as you ride faster, harder, until the orgasm takes you apart. You give your clit a rest and lean forward, supporting yourself with your hands on Frankie’s chest, still grinding your hips but slowing down and changing the rhythm and movement. Now you move up and down, your release lubing Frankie enough to allow for frictionless pleasure.

”Oh, sweet baby,” he prays, covering your tits with his big hands. ”Baby, just like that, I love that.”

”I know, baby,” you moan, coming to an almost lazy pace, placing more weight on your knees to allow for a thorough slide up and down his cock. ”It feels so good to cum on your cock, I’m gonna let you feel it too.”

You lean down to give him a sloppy kiss. ”I want you to cum in my pussy, Francisco, can you do that for me?”

”Yes, my love,” he groans, licking into your mouth, ”I’ll do that for you.”

”Good boy,” you coo, burying your hands in his soft hair as you continue to kiss him. He’s like putty in your hands, taking kiss after kiss from you, moaning at how tightly your wet pussy is squeezing him as you maintain a steady, slowy pace. Still playing with your nipples, it’s by now more for his pleasure than yours, but you are more than happy to give him that. You know he’s closing in on his climax when his hands desert your tits to instead fist into the cover by his sides. Your name comes in short puffs, his face scrunches adorably.

”Just like that,” he whines, pink tongue darting out to lick his lips, ”don’t stop fucking me, please!”

Your thighs are burning but you go faster, and the wet squishy sound of your slick pussy swallowing Frankie’s cock is joined by the increased slapping of skin again skin.

”Let go,” you urge him in a soft voice, ”it’s okay, Francisco, cum in my pussy, please.”

You lean down over his so that you can embrace him and let him wrap his arms around you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck as you ride him to his release. When you feel the first, hot ropes of cum paint your walls, you squeeze him hard and kiss him everywhere you can reach.

”Thank you,” you whisper between kisses, ”thank you, thank you, baby, thank you...”

Frankie trembles underneath you, his whole body stiff before he pulls you down next to him. His cock slips out of you, trailing cum down your thigh, but neither one of you care as you kiss each other softly. Frankie’s chocolate eyes are dazed but simmering with warmth underneath heavy eyelids, and his full lips are turned up in a happy little smile.

”Told you I’d treat you good,” you mumble. Frankie cups your cheek and kisses you.

”You always do, my love.”

[charcoalhawk]

The haunting of Masters’ Mansion

This is a backup truce gift for @shadowofaghost5 , hope to bring you some (very) belated Christmas cheer!

Prompt: Vlad & Danny bonding (by annoying each other? did they have to work together for something and accidentally started enjoying it? is Vlad being nice for once and teaching Danny stuff? How they bond is entirely up to you!)

Warnings: none

“-and Frankie said I could stay with them and their partner for the holidays. I think we may go to one of our other friends' houses on Christmas Day, but that’s still up in the air pending how many of his family is coming home.”

“That’s awesome Jazz”, Danny smiles at his sister over FaceTime, “so I’ll see you probably during spring break? Assuming no, uh, pit stops?”

“Yeah, spring break. And no Danny, no pit stops. Enjoy your last semester and your extracurriculars, we can call and text as much as you need.”

“I don’t know, if the house is still being fumigated after the new year I may just have to hide in your dorm for a few days just to get some sleep.”

Apparently using unstable ectoplasm for years and building much of their own home had caused the building not to be strictly up to code, and while they’re not having to rebuild any existing structures, the city had insisted on doing a through investigation, and then announced that the house would need to be thoroughly fumigated for at least a month, amongst other problems.

They’d been able to book a hotel for the first few nights, but as it grew closer to Christmas his parents had been informed they would need to find other lodgings as their rooms had already been booked starting the next two days all the way through the new year.

Luckily a family friend was willing to host them over the holidays, as after a frantic search it seemed like most hotels had already been bought out or were charging truly outrageous prices for the holidays.

Unluckily for Danny his parents insisted he stay with them for the Holidays, even after both Tucker and Sam had promised that either of their parents wouldn’t mind hosting Danny for a few weeks.

So they had shuffled themselves into the Fenton RV, suitcases and presents pressing into Danny from every angle from where they’re all crammed indiscriminately.

It has only taken an hour for his parents to restart the argument they had put on hold last night. At this point after almost eighteen years Danny thought he could recite both sides of his parents "is Santa real" argument from memory. Danny knows he had been lucky before that his parents had only had small arguments since Mariah Carey had started haunting every radio station since October.

“You know mom and dad just wanted one more Christmas with you before you go off to college.”

“I know.” He chances a glance at the front of the RV where even now his parents are in furious debate, “but knowing them they’re just going to spend the whole time arguing or trying to make me pick a side.”

Jazz tries to smile on video call, but they’re far enough out in the countryside that his phone’s connection is getting really spotty.

“I know. I tried when I called them last week to get them to understand how doing this was only going to drive you away” Danny can’t help but scrunch his nose in distaste, “don’t look at me like that Danny, you’re almost an adult. We can have these kinds of conversations, but I don’t think it quite stuck like I wanted it to.”

Jazz gives him a sympathetic look before her picture abruptly flips, and now Danny is staring at a slightly worse for wear Bearbert Einstein. Jazz waives one of his arms and puts on her most obnoxious, silly voice.

“But both me and Jazz want to wish you a very good new year,” her hand shifts so it seems Bearbert is nodding his head, “and Jazz would like to kindly request that you don’t try and murder Vlad unless he tries to get you first!”

Danny chokes on a laugh as the camera switches back to Jazz’s now beaming smile, and soon they’re saying their goodbyes as Jazz rushes to finish packing.

Once the call ends and the low arguing of his parents is now the only sound in the RV, Danny allows himself to scowl.

That was the other unfortunate thing, turns out they would be staring with Vlad over the holidays.

The only thing worse than Christmas time, and trust him there is not much worse than the Fenton’s at Christmas, is having to share that time with Uncle Vlad.

Danny can see his future now, Vlad will take his mom’s side, which in turn will make his dad turn to him.

The only silver lining in all this, and trust him it is a very slim silver lining, is that over the past four years he and Vlad have a more steady truce in place and neither goes out of his way to intentionally maim or attack the other.

When they finally pull up to Vlad’s gaudy home, nothing immediately strikes Danny as out of place, but he notices that his parents seem unnerved about something and that immediately sets him on edge.

As they all clamor out of the RV his ghost sense tells him Vlad is lurking nearby. No one exits to help them get their bags but the door swings open dramatically before his dad can start pounding on the door.

“Jack! Glad to see that you are well.” Vlad places a very reluctant hand on his Dad’s shoulder, which is all the prompting Dad needs to sweep Vlad into a truly impressive bear hug.

Vlad’s smile is carefully pinned in place, as he allows the extended contact with Jack before sweeping down to RV, likely to offer to carry his mom’s bags.

“Madeline! How good to see you!” His mom carefully steps out of Vlad’s way while keeping her own smile carefully on.

“It’s good to see you too Vlad, we really can’t thank you enough for agreeing to host us on such short notice.”

He and Vlad share a careful nod as Dad leads them all into the foyer, and Danny can only hope with such a big house it can actually allow him some peace and quiet.

“Yeah V-man, thanks for letting us stay here while the house is being checked out. But I gotta say Vladdie,” his dad gestures around the opulent foyer, “where’s all your Christmas stuff?”

His mom takes a careful look around and her eyes widen as she realizes what her husband says is true.

“Oh now that you mentioned it dear, it is odd,” she turns more fully towards Vlad, genuine interest in her tone and not the carefully cultivated fake interest Danny knows she holds whenever he’s seen her interact with Vlad in recent years.

“While Santa Claus obviously isn’t real, the story of Saint Nick should still be celebrated, and of course a chance to give gifts to our loved ones.”

His parents share a glare, but it’s clear they’re too shaken by Vlad’s lack of decorations to devolve back into spirited debate.

“We can take the RV into town right now!” His Dad makes an abrupt about face and starts tugging Vlad along with him, “bet they still have some real trees for sale, only real way to celebrate is with a real tree!”

“Oh good idea Jack! Vlad can show us where he stores his other decor and while you two are gone Danny and I can set up the lights.”

“Oh nonsense, we should all get the tree together!”

“I guess you're right Jack, that is a very important Christmas tradition. Then do you know where the nearest tree farm is Vlad? I’m sure we could find one but I’m sure you have your preferences.”

Vlad starts to look increasingly uncomfortable as his parents gang up on him.

“C’mon Vladdie! If we leave now we should still have time to set up the Christmas tree!”

Just as his Dad is about to pull Vlad past the threshold of the house, Vlad seems to snap out of his stupor and easily shakes off his Dad’s hand, backing up further into the house like he thinks Dad will lunge at him to pull him into the RV.

“That won’t be necessary. While I wouldn’t begrudge your family its traditions, I have no interest in spending multiple hours putting up frivolous decorations that are only going to live in boxes most of the year.”

“Oh bah, I’ve seen you spend weeks decorating this place for whenever the Packers play!”

“I don’t care, I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

It feels like the entire house freezes.

“I don’t have any particularly strong feelings around winter and Christmas time, and so to me they are just another few weeks of the year. I only even remember them because every store and TV station is decorated in red and green from November until the new year.”

It’s silly, but Danny had never realized that you could just, do that. He knows Sam and her family celebrate Hanukkah, hell even ghosts have the Truce, but he’d kinda been under the impression that everyone did something for the winter holidays.

The next few minutes are filled with his parents arguing the joys of Christmas time, while Vlad seems to grow increasingly more bored as the minutes tick by.

At some point his parents seem to realize they won’t get through to Vlad by simply arguing their case, so his Dad declares they will go out and vows that by the time they leave Vlad will be filled with the Christmas spirit.

With the slam of the RV door his parents are gone, leaving Danny and Vlad standing awkwardly in the now empty foyer.

“Well, that was a waste of my time.”

As the shadow of the RV disappears around the corner, Danny suddenly has an idea.

“Ok frootloop I’ve got a deal for you.” Vlad raises a single brow, at least he’s curious. “Neither of us wants this place to become infested with Christmas, so we work together and make my Mom and Dad think your house is haunted by some Christmas hating spectr, and then they’ll be so focused on hunting down the ghost they won’t have time to bother either of us.”

“Are you suggesting we make up a ghost to haunt your parents Daniel? My, that’s something I would usually think of.”

“Oh don’t give yourself that much credit. I’ve already been basically haunting my parents for the last four years.”

As so, an alliance is born.

The next two weeks Danny finds out he and Vlad make a startlingly efficient pair at tracking down and vanishing any extra Christmas decor his parents try to smuggle in the house.

Danny knows his parents have kept all their presents in the RV for fear of this new ‘Christmas ghoul’ stealing them, and honestly Danny is having the time of his life. His parents are united for once in their Christmas opinions, and they’re so busy trying to hunt this imaginary ghost that they forget to try and get Danny on either of their sides.

Christmas Day still passes in a flurry of activity, but this year it’s his parents camping out by the chimney all night waiting for a ghost, or Santa, to come sneaking into the house. They end up sleeping most of the next day, and by the time new year hits Danny hasn’t heard his parents argue about Santa being real in almost a week.

And if his friends ever question the morality of the situation Vlad is such an easy target he won’t even deny it.