#Uncharted reader insert

[gogogodzilla]

day 1, pegging

nathan drake x gn! reader warnings: nsfw 18+, improper pegging techniques, handjob, praise (m receiving), fingering, multiple checks for consent kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

Nathan Drake never knew when to shut his mouth. Whether he was fighting with some Shoreline goons or teasing you relentlessly, he was always running his mouth. It was no different when you had sex, limbs tangled together and unsure of where your body ended and his began. He would utter praises along your skin as he fucked you, and you soaked it up every single time. 

Tonight was no different. Well… there was something new you were trying. 

Nathan laid naked spread out below you, each piece of his clothes slowly stripped and thrown somewhere across the room.  His hands were tied above his head, and he looked up at you with the same blue eyes that drove you crazy. 

You’d been preparing for this night for weeks, getting your knots just right. Nate was a tricky one, and you wanted to make sure he wouldn’t escape from what you had planned. Of course, he was all too happy to let you try out your knots on him when you practiced. He was always rewarded for his cooperation. 

“You’re being so good for me, Nate,” you purred, tracing a finger down his bare chest, which heaved under your touch. “Did you get ready like I asked, baby boy?”

Nate looked up at you as you straddled him, seating yourself just below his pelvis. “Yes,” he replied, sucking in a breath as you splayed your hands across his ribs, “didn’t touch just like you asked.” 

He watched you as you leaned down to finally touch him, and he bit back a moan in response. You stroked him slowly, teasingly. You swiped a thumb over the tip, gathering the precum that had begun to form and spread it to the rest of his length with your short, languid strokes. He bucked his hips, attempting to meet you halfway. Impatient as always.

You tsked as you pulled away, “Thought you were going to be good for me.” 

You ghosted a hand over his inner thigh, and he shuddered. It wasn’t very often when you were in control like this, and you were seizing the opportunity to tease the ever-loving shit out of him. 

“C’mon, baby,” he pleaded, struggling against his restraints. “Promise I’ll be good, just touch me, please.”

His pleas did little to quell the ache in your core, and you bit your lip. You granted him mercy, just this once, and returned your grip to his length. He turned his head to the side and moaned against his bicep, muttering your name under his breath. 

You used your free hand to grab the bottle of lube you had set to the side, and you popped the top with your thumb. Nathan shudders as you drop a bead of lube onto his length and twist your fist around the tip. 

“Jeez, baby,” Nathan half chuckled-half groaned as he arched his back off the mattress, desperate against your touch. 

You pulled away and Nathan whined at the loss of contact. You slid off him so you were situated between his legs, which spread eagerly for you. You flipped the top to the lube once more, covering three of your fingers with the tacky, clear residue. You spread your fingers, watching as strings of wetness form. The scene was titillating, and Nathan’s cock jumped against his abdomen as he watched you. 

You placed your free hand on the inside of his thigh before pushing a finger slowly inside of him. Nathan hissed and your movements halted. 

“Alright, honey?” 

He nodded quickly, his eyes pleading and lidded and he looked down at you. “Don’t stop, please, baby.” 

You began to pump your fingers, slowly at first. He let out a shaky groan when you picked up the pace, his hips jutting to meet you halfway. “Doing so good for me, honey,” you praised, reaching up to slowly stroke his cock with your free hand. 

You withdrew your fingers, and he whined underneath you. He was so needy tonight, and arousal was making your head fuzzy. But it wasn’t about you tonight. There’d be plenty of time for that later. 

You stepped out from between his legs and hopped off the bed, eagerness flooding your veins. Your heart was beating so hard you could hear it in your ears as you searched under the bed. Seconds passed like hours as you felt around for a familiar black box, and relief pooled in your chest as you felt the smooth cardboard you’d been looking for. 

Nervous fingers clumsily opened the box revealing what he’d been waiting for all day. The dildo was small and a muted blue with an upward curve to reach that sensitive spot inside him. Nate’s head perked up at the sound of buckles clinking as he watched you put on the harness. 

You returned to your position between Nate’s legs and he watched you, curiosity flickering in his eyes as they traveled downward. 

You grinned, “It matches your eyes.” 

He let out a shaky breath, quickly covered by a scoff as he rolled his eyes. 

You retrieved the bottle of lube and popped the top. You gripped the blue length in your hand and met his gaze as you dropped a bead of lube onto the tip, reminiscent of your earlier actions. You stroked yourself and rubbed a soothing hand over his thigh.

“Sure you want to do this?” 

He was quick to nod in response, too busy watching your every move. You lined your tip up to his entrance, and his breath hitched. Your hands skated over any skin you could reach as you slowly rocked into him. 

Nate’s expression was pinched in a mix of pain and ecstasy as you inched your way inside him. Your heart ached to provide some form of solace, but you couldn’t focus on anything but the way he was taking you so well. 

You leaned down and pressed sloppy kisses against the side of his neck, attempting to distract him as you sank the last few inches into him. 

He gasped, and you hesitated just for a moment. Your heart was pounding so loudly you could barely breathe, and panic began to set in. What if you hurt him? 

“You okay?” you asked and you cringed as soon as the words left your mouth.  

He slowly opened his eyes and nodded. “Baby, you’re inside me,” he huffed a laugh. You couldn’t help but join him. He was looking at you like you hung every star in the sky and the next thing you know your lips were on his. 

The kiss was clumsy as you adjusted to your position over him. You pulled out of him before snapping your hips forward, your lips still on his. Strong legs wrapped around your waist and brought you closer, pulling you deeper inside him. 

You rocked against him, each thrust pulling out further than the last. You spent every moment memorizing every sound and sight. Eventually, you reached that spot inside him that had him releasing the delicious sounds you craved. You focused on hitting that spot again, and again, and again until he was a moaning mess under you. 

He arched against you. “Baby,” he pleaded, not even sure what he was asking for anymore.

“Tell me what you want, honey,” you murmured, desperate to give him whatever he desired. 

“More.”

Who are you to deny your baby boy what he wants? You snapped your hips faster, finally settling into some sort of rhythm. You wrapped your hand around his weeping cock, and twisted your wrist in quick strokes. 

The pace at which you were pounding into him was almost brutal, but he was so close you could almost taste it. With one final slam of your hips, he was falling apart at the seams. Nathan’s moan was practically pornographic as he painted the back of your hand and his stomach with the white strings of his release. 

You slowed your pace as you both caught your breath. Your hands skirted across his now-flushed skin as he came down from his high. 

“You did so good for me,” you whispered, a small smile playing on your lips. 

Nathan laughed, and the sound made your heart soar. You made him feel good. 

“You did all the work.”

[fandomnerd9602]

Uncharted Territory

Lara Croft x Drake!Reader

For @deafeningsharkslimeempath

Outside the pub windows was the blurring neon glow of London. Inside, the fire crackled merrily, casting flickering shadows on the worn wooden beams. You nursed a pint of ale, eyes following the curve of Lara's neck as she sipped her tea.

"Lost in the Amazon again, I see," she teased, her lips quirking in a smile. Her braid swung back and forth as she leaned closer, the firelight highlighting the emerald flecks in her eyes.

It wasn't every day you got to share a fire with Lara Croft, world-renowned adventurer and the love of your life. You chuckled, taking a swig of my ale. "Just trying to decipher a cryptic pirate journal Nate unearthed from his latest escapade. Apparently, there's a hidden fortune of Captain Kidd somewhere off the coast of Madagascar."

Lara scoffed, a playful glint in her eye. "Knowing Nate, it's probably buried under a pile of bad puns and empty rum bottles."

You couldn't help but agree. "Sounds about right. Though I wouldn't put it past him to actually stumble upon the loot by sheer dumb luck."

You both fell silent, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you. Dating Lara meant a life far removed from the quiet bookstore job. Her adventures brought danger and excitement. Yet, there was something undeniably thrilling about holding her hand as she recounted tales of dodging booby-trapped temples and outsmarting ruthless mercenaries.

"Are you coming, (Y/N)?" Her voice broke the stillness, her gaze softening. "To Madagascar, I mean."

You hesitated. The thought of Lara facing another treasure hunt alone gnawed at your soul. But you also knew she craved these challenges, that her curiosity and thirst for knowledge were as vital to her as air.

"Not this time, Lara," You give her hand a squeeze, not wanting to let it go. "That's Nate's turf. You know I wouldn't want to steal his thunder."

A flicker of disappointment crossed her face, but she quickly masked it. "Of course," she said, her voice light. "Besides, I don't think that island could handle two Drakes running amok."

"True enough. Though I might send Sully along to keep him out of too much trouble."

Lara laughed, her giggle was the only thing that made your existence feel like it was something. "Do that. And tell him to pack plenty of wisecracks and rum."

The rest of the evening unfolds in a warm haze of conversation and shared laughter. Reminiscing about past adventures, from misadventures exploring lost Mayan temples with Nate to Lara's encounter with a mythical serpent in the Peruvian jungle.

As the fire dwindled to embers, Lara leaned her head against your shoulder. "You know," she whispers in your ear, "the flight to Madagascar doesn't leave until the morning"

"That's still a couple hours away" you gaze meets her.

"I think we can find one or two ways to make the time fly" she gives you a wink. "My flat's not far from here"

"Lead the way" you gather up your supplies and take her arm in yours.

And with that, you and her slip out into the night, your footsteps blend together into the London streets. One little night together, a bit of wine and a whole lot of mischief.

You are (Y/N) Drake, brother of Nathan Drake, and boyfriend to the bravest, most extraordinary woman in all the world.

[carissimipaixao]

"blue"

She gives you a smile, but the melancholy painted across the blue ocean of her eyes is obvious.

— flowers (thirty themes challenge)

[dreamer-snail]

hey uh just wondering cuz ik u said u were gonna finish all the books fir the nadine x reader story, but is there any sorta time frame on that like how far along r u or when do u suppose you’ll be able to release it? i absolutely adore ur work x

Oh goodness, I don't really know. I have so many notes, but the actual writing and procrastination just throws me, especially with school and other things.

But! That being said, it's super nice to see people are still interested in the story, and it has inspired me a bit to write more. So, I'm going to really try to commit to at least getting the first part done by the end of the month. It might not be fully polished, but maybe I can write and post the story and improve it later once I'm done! Thanks for being interested, and the tagglist for the series is always open!

[sturniolo04]

Cuddly C.S.

Bf!Chris x Gf!Fem!Reader

A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you :)

You and Chris were one of the newer couples on the block and by newer I mean you guys were only in the first month into dating. You and him being the newer couple you are, you guys have no clue how to act around each other. Dont get you wrong you two are pretty comfortable around each other when you guys go on dates but as far as showing each other physical affection it was somewhat was uncharted territory.

Which brings you to tonight now standing in the front of the door to Chris shared house with his brothers but tonight they weren't home since they had other engagements that night.

"hi you"

he greets you chirpily he awkwardly brings you in for a hug. Tonight was the first night you two were spending the night together. Chris, the sweet boyfriend he has been had the whole night planned out from the dinner we were ordering to the cookies we were baking for dessert to even the movies we were planning on watching.

"hey"

you softly squeak out as you two pull away from each other as he pulled you into the house by your hand.

"so i already order pizza to be delivered to the house so I figured we could chose the movie we want to watch and then bake the cookies while we wait for the pizza to arrive"

he causually states as he blue orbs engulfs yours as he admires you.

"okay sure umm have you ever seen the movie *inserts your favorite movie* "

you ask trying to come up with a movie for you two to watch.

"i dont think i have but we can watch that if you like that movie"

he states smiling softly at you. You two started baking some chocolate chip cookies to kill the time you were waiting for the pizza to arrive so you guys could start watching the movie. Throughout maneuvering in the kitchen getting a ingredients and quite frankly leaving a messy every way, slight moments of physical touch that Chris was attempting didn't go unnoticed.

"are you almost done with stirring the dough"

chris nonchalantly states as he places himself behind you casually placing his hands on your hips. You gasp at the sudden contact it being a foreign feeling in your guys relationship since it is fairly new.

"y-yeah"

you breathe out responding to him trying not to get flustered by his simple action. He chuckles as he goes to grab a cookie sheet to finally place the cookies on to then put them in the oven to bake.

Time Skip

You guys had finally put the cookies on the cookie sheet and had placed them in the oven to bake and had to wait about 5 minutes until the pizza arrived at your guys doorstep. You couldn't shake the foreign feeling you felt with the physical contact of Chris' hands being on your body in that way; you couldn't lie you loved the feeling and were craving it. You were mindlessly scrolling on your Instagram feed as you subconsciously double-tapped everything that popped up as you two manage to stand in a comfortable silence in the kitchen on opposite sides between the island counter and the oven counter.

"okay im done with this"

chris exclaims setting his phone face down on the counter behind him he was leaning on, causing your focus to break from your phone screen and shift to your boyfriend as he makes his way over to you. Your breathe hitches as he places his hands on your hips yet again. You playfully scream out as his lifts you up to sit on top of the counter you were leaning against.

"chris what are you doingg"

you breathe out shakily giggling because of the lingering physical touch on your body, You place your hands on his shoulders, which was the first slight touch of physical touch you left on him.

"im bored"

he groans out looking up at you as his phone dings with a notification from doordash signifying that the pizza was arriving to your guys doorstep. Chris quickly places his hands on your hips again lunging you over his shoulder.

"chrisss"

you exclaim shakily once again from the feeling of his strong hands gripping the back of your thighs to keep you from falling as he walks downstairs to the door.

"chriss dont drop me"

you squeal out getting nervous.

"i got you dont worry"

he chuckles out still maintaining his strong grip on your thighs. You could feel the touch of his palms biting into your skin on your thigh, seeing that chris seemed pretty comfortable with displaying this kind of physical touch, made you feel a little more comfortable reciporating it in any way.

"cute butt"

you giggle out rythmically patting his ass with your freshly manicured hands as your boyfriend starts walking back up the stair with the pizza bag in the other hand.

"stop youre going to make me drop you and the food"

he chuckles out as he finally makes it back upstairs setting you back on your feet in front of him.

"movie time"

he shouts out as you slightly jump a the loud volume.

"yeah we have to take the cookies out of the oven so they don't burn chris"

you giggle as he completely forgot about the cookies all together.

Time Skip

you and chris finally got settled down on the couch in the living already about halfway through the movie. Chris had been continuing his attack of physical touch on your body with the occasional thigh grab or even awkwardly reaching for your hand to hold it. you genuinely didn't know how to express the sudden connection in your relationship which resulted in you seeming like this touch was something your weren't wanting to take part in.

"are you uncomfortable with all of this"

chris suddenly questions pausing the movie and removing his hand that was rested on your bare thigh causing your breath to hitch.

"w-what are you talking about"

you shakily respond, looking at him.

"like everytime i go to show you any sort of physical contact you always seem to tense up like you don't want me to touch you"

he explains as you let a deep sigh as fixates his focus on you.

"chris its not that i dont want you to touch me in that way it just all new I didn't know if it was okay for me to reciporcate it you know"

you sigh out again as it felt like a weight lifted off your chest. Chris face softens hearing the confession roll off your tongue.

"c'mere"

he softly speaks as you climb over and sit on his lap *reference you freeze as the abnormally closeness and comfort your were feeling from being so close to Chris, letting out an exhale he places a sweet kiss on your forehead.

" whenever you feel comfortable enough to show physical touch in our relationship you can I don't want you to think you can't okay"

he softly speaks as he carress the sides of your face you nod slowly agreeing with him.

Taglist

@dirtylittleheart333 @mintsturniolo @wh0resstuff @spicymuffins03 @aaliyahsturn @stayingstromboli @emely9274

[munson-blurbs]

@corrodedcoffinfest Day 23: Up and Coming

Word Count: 472/Rating: E/Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader/CW: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (m! receiving), praise, semi-public sexual activities, sorry I was feral/Tags: Eddie Munson, reader-insert, smut, rockstar

Divider credit to @silkholland

Back and forth, back and forth. Eddie’s pacing was making you dizzy, driving you insane. His thumbnail was tucked between his teeth as his eyes darted around the dressing room. 

“Babe, it’s going to be great,” you tried, but the words fell short of his ears. “Eddie…”

He shook his head. “Tonight needs to be better than great. It needs to be incredible.” He finally stopped to look at you. “There’s an agent out there from Elektra Records. And if we suck—”

“You won’t suck.” You took his hands in yours and squeezed them. “They’re gonna hear how kickass Corroded Coffin is and sign you immediately.”

“Maybe.”

You sighed as you searched for an answer. You’d never seen your boyfriend this nervous; it was uncharted territory for you. 

There was one thing you could do that always seemed to cheer him up…

Wordlessly, you locked the dressing room door. Eddie blinked at the audible click, but he didn’t have time to ask questions before your lips were on his neck, your palm snaking up his shirt. 

“I need you to relax, Eds,” you murmured against his skin. “Just focus on me. What I’m doing, how I’m making you feel. Okay?”

“Mmm.” His fingers gripped your waist as his body instinctively pressed to yours. “Baby, you don’t have to.”

Your touch trailed down to his pants button; you could already feel the hardness behind his fly. “My sweet, sexy rockstar.” You smiled when he moaned. “Let me take care of you.”

“O-Okay.” Eddie’s breath hitched in his throat when you sank to your knees in front of him. You tugged down his jeans, then his boxers, and kissed his thighs. 

His cock, thick and hard, was already leaking precum. You eagerly licked it off before enveloping the head between your lips. 

“Fuck, fuck me, holy shit.” Eddie bit his lower lip as you took more of him into your mouth. Your hand reached for his heavy sac, massaging it gently. Another groan escaped him at your touch. 

Eddie moved his hips in sloppy, languid thrusts. “So wet…so warm…don’t stop.”

You obeyed, not hesitating even as saliva trickled down your chin. He was definitely a grower, and you could feel him getting even harder inside of your mouth. 

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” Eddie growled. “I’m gonna c—I’m gonna—” 

He pulled out and stroked his cock a few times, spilling his cum between the V-cut neckline of your dress. His chest rose and fell with panting breaths. 

“You,” he managed, “are goddamn dangerous.”

“But are you still nervous?”

Eddie laughed. “Less so.” He began reaching for a tissue, but you stopped him with a hand out. 

“Leave it there. I want everyone to know that I belong to you.” You leaned in and kissed his lips. “Now, go out there and kill it, rockstar.”

--

[jahayla-parker]

The Master : Tom Holland x Reader (Completed Series)

Descr: Reader is the prop master for Uncharted. She therefore meets Tom on set and soon they’re falling for each other. But will things burn out before filming is over? Or will they be able to make it? Fluff, some hurt-comfort and angst-to-fluff

Warnings: flirting and pining of course, manipulative ‘friends’, reader can’t swim (& falls into ocean very briefly), gift gifting, birthdays, (briefly mentioned) creepy man, mentions of alcohol, SEE WARNINGS for Part 8 separately below,

Notes: Reader’s ethnicity (Latina) and age are briefly mentioned in part 7 but rest of the story is meant to read as a reader insert still.

Part 1 - Ringing Introductions

Part 2 - Crushing and Flirting

Part 3 - Bonding in Barcelona

Part 4 - Daring Acts

Part 5 - Courting in the Club

Part 6 - Self-Appointed Protector

Part 7 - Birthdays and Dates

Part 8 - Ready to Rush (18+ ONLY, SMUT. Can be skipped without issue.)

Part 9 - The Incident

Part 10 - T-Minus Two Weeks

Part 11 - Revelations Lead to Solutions

The End

This was a Ko-fi request by the lovely

@theslayerofthevampires Thank you again for the support as always Angel 🥰

Taglist: @theslayerofthevampires @galaxyholland @bigbirdstwins @mcushvft @fishingirl12 @raajali3

@justapurrcat @natswifeysblog15 @directioner5life

@ell0ra-br3kk3r @laylasbunbunny

Tom Holland Masterlist

All My Works / My Main Masterlist Navigation

[wayfaringhoax]

Riddles

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Female Reader

Click here for part two

Word count: 12k+

Summary: You and Frankie become ‘friends with benefits’ until you evolve into something more. But when you can’t seem to communicate your needs, you find yourselves in uncharted territory.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact

Explicit sexual content (p in v, female receiving oral, dirty talk, semi-public sex, sexting, sending nude photos), references to sex scattered throughout, swearing, unhealthy relationships, making each other jealous, communication issues, discussions of low self-esteem, conflicted emotions, angst, possessive! Frankie, reader wears Frankie’s t-shirt, consumption of alcohol, references to religion and drugs (purely for metaphorical purposes), public discussions of sex, reader is described as having a vagina and breasts. 

This is a reader insert fic, but there are a few plot details that lean towards an OFC. Reader's mentioned as having two parents, letting their hair 'down' after work, and one of their friends is given a name. If any of these details make you uncomfortable, please refrain from reading.

New to the community, so this hasn’t been beta’d.

Been working on this for a few weeks, please let me know if you enjoy it!

Get coffee, meeting, reply to emails, meeting, lunch, marketing proposal, planning period, meeting.

As you opened your planner that morning, you were greeted by your responsibilities for the day. However, each damn meeting brought you one step closer to the end of the work day, and subsequently one step closer to leaving your office and heading to Benny’s Fight Night.

Due to your busy schedule, you hadn’t been able to make it to one of his fights for a while so you often resorted to wishing him luck via a text message. Having the chance to actually be there and support him in person was therefore a big deal for you. Plus, you’d also have the chance to grill the eldest Miller brother, having set him up on a date with your friend a few weeks ago, only to have her tell you it didn’t work out. You knew Will would be prepared for you to press him, and being as stoic as he was, you anticipated that he wouldn’t reveal much.

How many times had they reprimanded you for attempting to play matchmaker?

You couldn’t help it. It was only natural for you to want the best for them, you’d shared so much of your life with them, and they’d been by your side when it counted.

Of course, you were only a kid when you first met the Miller brothers. When your parents had befriended theirs, you were quick to latch on to them, glad to have two little friends to annoy. You often spent holidays chasing them around their home, and they enjoyed bringing their LEGO to yours, much to the dismay of your poor mother, who wasn’t prepared for how much mess they’d bring.

Sure, shit got real when you got older.

After you graduated from college, you threw yourself into work. You successfully climbed up the ranks, securing enough money to live comfortably. Though you admit, you had to sacrifice a lot in the process, regularly denying yourself the chance to be happy - to be loved - in the name of prioritising your career. 

Every time you wake up in the middle of the night, yearning for the comfort of another body, you’re reminded of the loneliness that sometimes plagues you.

Benny and Will weren’t strangers to the feeling either. You’d been around to see the darkness that followed them home from deployment. The darkness that tarnished some of their ability to accept love. The same darkness that made them hold on to you that little bit tighter, now very much acquainted with the feeling of loss.

You would never be able to understand what it was like for them. Never be able to fully comprehend the extent of their trauma. Some part of you knew that for Benny and Will, relationships weren’t as simple as they used to be.

But that didn’t stop you from trying to set them up. You appreciated that your attempts were futile, they were just gestures of good faith, really. They communicated that you cared. That you wanted them to be happy - and they saw that for what it was: their friend looking out for them.

On the other hand, Benny and Will rarely tried to set you up on dates, understanding that the guys they knew wouldn’t be the right fit for you.

Despite this, they made sure to constantly remind you that you weren’t getting laid.

An issue you were sure they’d raise again, at some point this evening.

It wasn’t as though you weren’t looking. 

Respectfully, you’d found most of the boys’ friends attractive, and perhaps, there was one man from their Delta Force squad, in particular, who’d caught your eye.

A man with a serious attachment to his baseball cap.

A man who seems burdened by his affliction, shouldering the weight of it all by himself. 

A man who was just so gorgeous, yet often chose to play it safe, hanging back when in the presence of the other boys.

Yes, Francisco Morales. Or Frankie, as the boys called him. 

You had looked at Frankie. Many times. He’d definitely caused you to lose your train of thought more than once, having been mesmerised by his features; strong yet with a particular softness. 

Whilst you acknowledged your attraction to this man, you got the sense that he wasn’t available. 

Benny had never mentioned a wife or a girlfriend when he spoke about Frankie, but you still felt as though there was some kind of invisible wall up, preventing you from getting any closer. 

Besides, you were going to support Benny tonight, not ogle his friend. You could keep it under control. 

Or at least you tried, yet the way Frankie let out a soft chuckle as Benny teased you about becoming a crazy cat lady, was testing your patience.

Now, you were avoiding his gaze, afraid of having to confront your attraction to the man across the locker room. This was proving to be quite easy, as Benny’s enquiry into your (lack of a) sex life had you staring up at the ceiling in embarrassment, hoping the ground would swallow you whole. 

“C’mon, I’m only looking out for you here. You gotta break the dry spell soon, else it’ll become even harder to get back out there.”

Benny continues his onslaught, deciding to raise the point that if he didn’t fight for a while, he’d simply have no skill when he got back in the ring.

Frustrated, you roll your eyes at his comparison before telling him, “That’s unfair, Benny.”

Santiago chooses this moment to weigh in, reassuring you, “Bonita, you could have any guy you wanted, huh? What’s stopping you?”, and before you have the chance to speak, Benny jumps in on your behalf.

“That’s what I keep telling her, but she keeps making up all these issues. Worrying too much.”

“Well these issues are real concerns for me. I don’t want a relationship right now, but one-night stands aren’t for me either. There’s too many unknowns with hookups. Do you know how many married guys take their rings off just so they can take girls home for a night?”, you tell Benny incredulously, trying to communicate the extent of your concern.

Benny senses your ire, beginning to back off slightly, yet not before proposing, “Why don’t you just get a fuck buddy? Then you can get laid all you want. Problem solved.”

Sure, the prospect was very appealing to you. Someone you could count on to give you orgasms and not have to worry about the strings attached? 

You’d sign yourself up right now. 

The problem was, where would you find such a man? You shuddered at the thought of returning to the dating apps, having had enough interesting encounters on there to put you off using them again.

Turns out Benny had his own solution to that problem, choosing this moment to turn his attention to his friend who was currently leaning against the lockers, arms folded against his chest. It was almost as though Frankie could sense what was coming next, as he retreated further back into himself, looking down at the floor in a futile attempt to avoid being targeted by his younger friend.

“Hey, Fish is right there. He’s been hard up for god knows how long now. Why don’t you scratch each other’s backs, huh?”

Right now, he was cursing himself for having one too many beers that night at Santi's house, when he’d opened up to the guys about his sexual frustration.

“Jesus Christ”, groans Frankie, his eyes looking at Benny disapprovingly.

Turns out you two did have something in common, as you both looked as though you could kill Benny with your stares. The younger Miller, however, was sporting a grin that would rival the Cheshire Cat’s, thoroughly pleased with himself.

With the attention span of an excitable puppy, Benny was quick to move on. You guess it had something to do with the way Will was looking at him, the subtle tilt of his head gesturing to Benny that he needed to get his head back in the game.

But that didn’t stop you from wanting to die of embarrassment. 

Sure, Benny had a fight to focus on, but you had to survive a couple more hours in Frankie’s presence. 

You pushed the strap of your bag further up your shoulder, hoping that having something to hold on to would quell the anxiety bubbling in your stomach. Straightening your posture, you hazard a glance over at where Frankie’s stood, only to realise he’s not there.

Pushing open the double doors, you exit the locker room and spot Frankie, way ahead of you, and his steps are somewhat urgent as he catches up to Santi.

Shrugging it off, you find your seat and wait for the fight to commence.

****

He’s struggling.

Frankie’s still reeling from Benny’s comment. He knows the only reason Benny said that was to rile you up, and he knows he shouldn’t still be thinking about it now. But he just can’t get the way you looked tonight out of his head.

He grabs himself a beer and settles onto his couch, before allowing images of you to flood his head; the late-night news report swiftly forgotten.

He imagines your hair, slightly tousled after a long day at work. It was extremely sexy, to him; the image of you letting your hair down as you leave the office. It signified you letting loose, and he could only imagine what it would be like to have you lose control around him. God, he’d give anything to run his hands through it as you looked up at him with those eyes. 

Fuck, you were gorgeous. 

Frankie’s got it bad for you. Has done for quite some time now. Ever since he was introduced to you at Benny’s birthday party last year, you had taken over all of his fantasies. Being around you consumed all of his energy, as he often fought hard enough to play it cool whenever you spoke to him; always worrying he’d scare you off with his dark wit. 

And for Benny to joke that he had a chance with you? Well, that was cruel. 

He managed to make an escape from the locker room before you noticed, latching onto Pope in an attempt to recompose himself.

You were far too good for him.

He had baggage; struggles he was still working through. 

You, on the other hand, were stable. With a successful career, a solid group of friends and a pretty house at the end of the block, you intimidated him. 

Frankie often wondered how you had spent so much of your adult life around the Millers, seen the damage that had been done to them, and yet you still had a certain innocence about you. It was like you had seen first-hand just how unforgiving the universe could be, but you still saw purpose beyond the pain.

Yep, he needed to stay away from you.

Deciding to push his demons aside for the moment, Frankie casts his mind back to the times he’d tried, and clearly failed, to put the moves on you.

There had been the brush of his hand on your waist as you walked by him in Will’s kitchen to get another beer. And the time you fell asleep on Benny’s sofa, he had shuffled closer, allowing your head to rest ever so slightly in his lap. Frankie also recalls each time he’d driven you home from the bar, only driving away when he saw you head inside. As you sat in his passenger seat, Frankie came to the conclusion that your presence was downright intoxicating. Therefore, he always volunteered to be the designated driver in the hopes he could drink up more of you.

It was getting late. Late enough that he could put all this down to being some kind of a fever dream.

Frankie’s about to head up to bed, when his phone lights up with a text message.

A text message from you.

Yeah, this was definitely feeling like a surreal experience.

He decides to bite the bullet and glances down at your message.

Hey, Frankie. Just wanna say sorry about before. We all know Benny loves to tease, but I hope he didn’t make you uncomfortable. Hopefully see you soon! x

Frankie’s not quite sure what you have to apologise for, and frankly, his attention was elsewhere; on the last four words of your text. God, he hoped to see you again.

He sends his reply swiftly.

Hey, you don’t need to be sorry. I’ve definitely had worse thrown at me by the boys. Don’t worry about it. Hope you enjoyed the fight?

Frankie knows he’s pushing his luck, but he adds that little question mark hoping you’d take the bait to talk to him for a little longer.

You reply almost instantaneously, much to Frankie’s delight.

Yeah, it was great! Once I stopped wanting to kill Benny. Until then I was kinda rooting for the other guy. Promise you won’t tell him? 

Can’t promise anything, Cariño, came Frankie’s response. 

Your humour almost seemed like flirting, and Frankie would be a fool not to try, so after hitting send, he relaxes back into the couch whilst awaiting your response.

Huh. Knew I couldn’t trust a man with the name Francisco.

Fuck. Frankie was immediately consumed by visions of you - saying his name. 

Imagining how his name would sound coming from those perfect lips of yours caused something to stir deep down in his gut. 

Get it together, Frankie. Get it together. 

He found it a little harder to type his next words.

Not many men you can trust these days. But you deserve to be with one who takes good care of you.

He hadn’t intended to get so deep so quickly, but the thought of you being hurt in the past caused an unpleasant feeling to grow in his chest. You were so beautiful, so good. You had your whole life ahead of you. Whichever asshole had broken your trust in the past didn’t deserve to be breathing right now, Frankie was certain.

You take a little longer to reply, causing Frankie to doubt himself for a moment before his phone lights up again.

Thanks, Frankie. I feel like I really needed to hear that. You deserve to be loved, too. 

The sincerity of your words almost knocked the wind right out of him. Pleasantly surprised at the turn his evening took, Frankie longed to draw more of those confessions from you. 

Pope’s right, you know. You could have any guy you wanted, Bonita. 

The Frankie who hadn’t gotten anywhere with you before was not expecting the response you gave.

Any guy, huh?

And before he has time to process your insinuation, you send another text.

Even you? 

Oh, he wasn’t prepared for you to say that. So understandably, his response is delayed.

Shit, he needs to tread carefully here, he thinks, as he eventually composes his next few words.

Cariño, you need to be careful what you say to me. I don’t do well with riddles. 

On edge, Frankie’s composure is wavering. He’s definitely not prepared when he spots an incoming call from you yet he doesn’t hesitate to pick up.

“Hi…I, uh…I don’t even know what I’m doing Frankie.”, your words are soon followed by a soft, yet nervous, laugh.

“Do you wanna come over?”

Frankie swears he hears the breath leave his lungs, before all but moaning out, “Yeah.”

“Be there in 15.”

****

Of all the things you thought you’d be doing at 2 am on a Friday night, giving Frankie directions to your house wouldn’t have been your first guess. 

What were you thinking? You became a woman possessed. The dark timbre of his voice had caused a warm, fuzzy feeling to grow in your tummy, and before you knew it, you had invited him over for a late-night booty call.

You keep your hands busy, clearing up some of the mess in your bedroom when the realisation hits you. You were going to have sex with Frankie. 

Is this really happening?

The doorbell rings and you soon realise that - yes - this does seem to be happening, and it’s happening right now.

Like the cat about to get its cream, you slink to the door to let him in. You’re hoping your face doesn’t betray your eagerness as you greet Frankie with a smile. 

He takes a moment to assess your features, apprehensive that you may have changed your mind whilst he was driving over. Finding only a hint of shyness in your otherwise confident persona, he knows he’s made the right call. Frankie needs to see you move first. He’s not going to enter your apartment until he knows you want him in there. 

Luckily for him, you turn your body to the side slightly, allowing him to see further into your apartment. You take a step back; it’s an invitation that needs no words - it simply says, chase me. See what you’ll find. 

And he does. But not before looking away from you and rolling his eyes ever so slightly. You don’t know if he’s amused or frustrated, but you know you’ve got him right where you need him when he crosses your welcome mat.

His eyes return to you, then, and he gives you an assured nod. It’s Frankie’s way of asking you what your next move is. After all, he’s on your turf right now. 

Desperate to break the silence, you tell him, “Thanks for coming, I know it’s late.”. Choosing that moment to head to your bedroom, you lead the way. Hoping. Wanting. Praying he’ll follow you.

Frankie follows. He follows you blindly - like a disciple on a mission - trusting that wherever he’ll end up, it will be worth it. 

When he reaches your doorway, he’s greeted by a sight so divine, he’s forced to rethink his stance as an agnostic. 

You’re kneeling on the bed, stretching over to switch on the light, when he admires the way your back is arched like a feline wanting to play. He sees your mischief. And, as your shoulders dip low, he becomes hung up on the view of your ass in this position. He definitely wants to play, too.

The tension gets thicker and thicker as Frankie advances forward. He wants to test the waters; see what you do next. But he also wants to dive in headfirst and lap up your sweetness like a man starved. Frankie is a man starved, and he’s losing resolve with every passing second in your presence.

Of course, he’s delighted when you turn to face him again. You kneel on the bed, right in front of him this time, sitting back on your legs with your hands behind your back. You push your chest forward and sit up tall in a way that almost short-circuits Frankie’s brain. You look so submissive; preening and proud to put your body on display for him. So eager to learn, to please him. 

He knows you’re toying with him. You look so innocent sitting like that, but Frankie also knows you’re playing naughty. 

He wouldn’t have it any other way, though. Your moxie had his cock aching in his pants. 

Cautiously, Frankie rakes his eyes over your body, trying to figure out your next move. The soft glow of light in the room gives you an advantage, however, and you manage to catch him off guard. 

He’s too focused on the way you bite your bottom lip to notice your hands on his belt buckle.

Frankie thinks you’ll unbuckle it, yet you surprise him again as you use it to pull his body flush to yours. You’re on the bed and he’s stood up, and you adore the way he’s making you feel so small and pliant right now.

Sporting a mischievous grin of his own now, Frankie moves his lips to your neck.

“Don’t thank me yet, baby. Not until you’re cumming all over my tongue.” 

How’s a girl supposed to respond to that?

By some miracle, you manage to stay upright on the bed, and you decide you need to regain control of the situation before Franke dirty-talks you to death. 

“Francisco…”, you purr devilishly, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Frankie lets out a sinful groan; with just enough impatience to let you know he’s yours. There’s nowhere else he’d rather be right now than hanging on to every word you say. He can tell you’re being bratty. He loves it. Loves the way you’re taunting him, waiting for the moment he snaps and fucks you how you need to be fucked.

You repeat Frankie’s earlier words to you. “So…I could have any guy I wanted, huh? You really think so?”

Frankie thinks your smile looks a little bashful, for a second, before he notices the way you’re running your tongue across your bottom lip as you toy with the neck of his t-shirt. There’s a glint of something in your eyes. Your smile. That tells him he’s clueless as to the game you’re playing tonight, yet you’re definitely playing him. 

And, well, Frankie’s down for the ride. At this point, he’d promise you the world just to get a taste of the heaven between your thighs. 

Refocusing, he decides that’s what he needs to do.

“Cariño… so needy. You got my attention. All of it. No need to play up.”, says Frankie in a heady whisper.

You realise, then, that you may have underestimated the man in front of you.

But you definitely aren’t prepared for what he says next.

“On your back, baby. Panties off. Let’s see if you’re still an impatient little brat after you get your pussy eaten.”

Unable to form words, you get to the task at hand, dragging your lacy panties down your legs. You swear you can feel your skin throbbing as your hands skim your thighs. There’s nothing he could ask of you right now that would be too much, you decide, as you settle onto your back. 

He’s still fully clothed, and it’s almost like he senses your concern as he suddenly begins to undress. Starting with his t-shirt, he moves with urgency; afraid he’ll miss something if he takes his eye off you for a second. His hands reach for his belt, and you’re trying your best not to drool at the way he looks right now. Hair ruffled from your touch, chest heaving in anticipation of the pleasure you’re teasing of, and eyes glossy and wide. You’re simply mesmerised by the way this man looks when he’s affected. You’ve only ever seen him composed, playing it cool. You’ve never witnessed Frankie lose it, but you’re hoping that’s subject to change. Soon.

“Frankie…”, you beg. “Don’t keep me waiting, baby.”

Despite the way your impatience amuses Frankie, he decides he can’t wait any longer and dives down, using his hands to pry your legs open.

He nips the inside of your thigh, just far enough from where you need him to have you arching your back already; like a creature in heat.

You’re dying to express that you disapprove of his teasing, but you figure you should probably be a good girl considering he’s about to take care of you.

However, Frankie’s not done. His kisses trail higher, and as he reaches your knee, he places kisses there too, as he huffs out a demand. 

“You’re gonna be a good girl and give me all those pretty moans of yours. Take what I give you. Be grateful.” The way he emphasises those final two words tells you he’s not messing around, and you’re ashamed of the way you moan at the authority in his voice.

“Yes, baby. I’ll try to be good…. for you.”, you say. 

“Try, huh?”, is his response, as he reaches for a pillow, tapping your hip as a signal for you to lift them up. He places the pillow underneath your hips, and you’re ready to melt as he uses his thumb to rub firm circles into the spot just beneath your right breast. He applies a good amount of pressure, and all you can think about is how completely at his mercy you are right now; squirming underneath him in desperation. 

Frankie finally uses that tongue of his. But it’s not where you need it…yet. 

He draws your nipple into his mouth, sporting a smug grin as he does so. You want to scream. You can feel just how puffy and swollen your pussy is from the lack of attention it's receiving. As you feel it clench around nothing, you buck up against him whilst he continues to tease you. He’s sucking the peak into his mouth, drawing his tongue around in torturously slow circles, before releasing it with an audible pop. Frankie moves to continue his ministrations with your other breast, and in your petulance, you make the mistake of fighting him.

You hook your left leg around the back of his, trying to position your aching centre against the rough denim of his jeans; desperate for some friction.

But Frankie had been expecting you to challenge him. He’s seen your spark when you’d both been out with the other guys, it was one of the things that drew him to you in the first place. He recalls how you’d light up when you became competitive, you’d find ways to provoke your opponent yet you were able to mask it well. You’d get all giggly and cute, playing it off like you just got a bit over excited, and Santi, or whatever poor schmuck had gone up against you, would give in to you. Often letting you win. 

Well, Frankie wasn’t giving in that easily.

His hand shoots out to hold your left thigh open, whilst he uses his leg to pin down the other one; keeping you splayed out just how he wanted. You’re taken aback by his strength and you can’t deny it makes your pussy even needier. You need him, and your frustration has made you bold enough to tell him.

“Frankie, baby.”, you whine. “Need your mouth on it. On my pussy.”

He lets out a dark chuckle at that. And he decides to punish your brattiness with silence. You’re easy to read, to him, and he knows you’re liking the way he’s running his mouth whilst in your bed. But you’re reaching for too much, and he’s got to show some resistance for both of your sakes. 

Of course, Frankie would give you anything, but he’s not sure what your intentions were for inviting him into your bed. He assumes you’re after a no-strings-attached arrangement, and he’s gonna need to keep you wanting more if he’s to keep you. 

Pushing the thought aside for now, he focuses on his next move: giving you what you need. 

After what feels like a century, Frankie finally dips his head down to where you’re dripping for him. He’s sure he’s never seen a pussy so sweet and so responsive. He’s not even touched you there and he can see you clenching around nothing. 

His thick fingers part your folds and the way his breath ghosts over you has you crying out to him. 

“Ngghhh…fuck. Need it.”, you draw out in a frustrated giggle, and at this moment, Frankie thinks - no he knows - that you’ve ruined all other women for him. You sound so sexy, like a little vixen, but at the same time, there’s a sweetness about you that’s humbling.

Frankie decides he needs to reassure you. “Shhhh, Cariño. I’ve got you. You’ll get what you need.”

And you do get what you need, as Frankie forces your legs open even wider before licking a thick stripe all the way from your fluttering hole to your throbbing clit with his tongue - and the noise you make is untamed. 

He takes his time, opening you up on his tongue. He knows you need his fingers inside but he’s not sure you deserve it just yet. 

Frankie admires the way your pretty pussy is shy at first - like you - as he uses soft kitten licks to loosen you up. Your juices taste heavenly, and he laps up every ounce that flows from the core of you. Eventually, you relax into his mouth and your moans become more desperate. You need more and you communicate this by pulling Frankie in even deeper, your hands tight in his hair. 

“Jesus Christ”, he groans. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“Fingers, Frankie. I need your fingers.”, you plead, hoping he’ll take pity on you. 

And he does, by some miracle, pressing two inside you and immediately curling them up. You’re soon ready for another, and he adds a third, causing you to pout at him as your orgasm grows closer. The way you’re trying your best to ride his fingers, yet also sink further back into the bed like a pillow princess, is endearing to Frankie, as he can’t help but watch how you take him. Fuck, you’re beautiful like this. Underneath him. He needs you to come on his fingers and his tongue and he decides he can’t wait much longer.

“There you go, pretty girl. You’ve got something to clench down on. Something to cum on.”, says Frankie, and his words have your eyes rolling back. He’s got a dirty mouth and it’s doing all the right things to you.

He moves his mouth back to your clit, sucking it into his mouth. Applying the perfect amount of pressure, he’s got you whining out his name as you stretch your arms above your head, gripping the pillow you find there to anchor you - otherwise, you’re sure you’ll float away. 

It doesn’t take Frankie much longer to push you to the edge, and he gets a little rougher, much to your delight. You’re suddenly thankful for the pillow you’re grabbing onto, as his hands grip both of your ass cheeks, pulling your cunt up to his mouth and there’s nowhere for you to run. His grip is unrelenting; all you can do is lie there and take it as his tongue lashes against your clit. The absence of his fingers leaves you feeling empty, though you’re not complaining, as the way he’s clutching your hips allows him to really wreck you with his mouth. And what a mouth that man has. 

You’re writhing on the bed, your orgasm so close that your body’s going crazy; arching and stretching as it tries to hit that spot to send you over the edge. It comes as no surprise, however, that Frankie’s words finish you off.

“That’s it, baby. Know you need to cum. Need it so bad you’re whimpering for it.”

“Come on now, give it to me. I know you can. Cum and I’ll give you my fingers to ride it out on.”, he says, and you cum. Hard. 

“Frankie. Oh my god, Frankie”, you moan out like a madwoman and Frankie plunges his fingers back into your pussy as you cum all over his face. 

You can’t help but chase every wave of your high, and you push your cunt down on his fingers like you can’t get enough of what he’s giving you. Somehow, you’re able to remember what Frankie told you before, and you begin to chant “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” as you ride out your orgasm. 

There’s a cheeky smile playing on your lips and Frankie lets out his own throaty chuckle at your sass. And that’s when it hits him. 

One time isn’t enough. 

He can’t give you up just yet. 

****

The two of you soon get into a rhythm. 

You alternate between your place and his, spending most nights together each week. It’s after a few weeks of this routine that you realise: you’ve got yourself a ‘fuck buddy’ after all.

But you wouldn’t dream of telling Benny. Or Will. Or Santi. You weren’t ready to burst the bubble and face reality yet. You were perfectly happy indulging in each other’s bodies, sheltered from the pressures of the outside world. 

The sex is incredible. You know it, and Frankie most definitely knows it too.

You’ve come to know Frankie’s body so intimately, it sends a shiver down your spine just from thinking about it. You know what makes him tick. What makes him abandon his resolve and cum for you. You know how to draw particular sounds from him; his moans, his whimpers, his shouts, even. You had become a Frankie connoisseur in what seemed like no time.

Actually, it had only been a few weeks, yet things seemed to be moving at pace.

Having been friends before all this began, neither of you was inclined to kick the other person out after you were done rolling around in the sheets. So, naturally, then came the lingering. 

You both had taken to lingering a little while longer after the post-coital high faded. 

One time, you had hopped in the shower, and when you were done, you found Frankie on the phone to your local pizzeria. You hadn’t even questioned how he knew your order, putting it down to the fact you were friends before this. Still, it caused an unfamiliar feeling to stir in your chest, and some small part of you didn’t hate the gesture. 

You start showering together, too.

The first time it happened, you were still giggling over something Frankie had said. You’d riled him up and he’d taken you on, finding it way too easy to laugh with you. You’d been poking fun at him after he’d shared quite an embarrassing story from his days in service and he had decided to take a shower to escape your teasing. However, you didn’t want to let the moment go, just yet - so you followed him into the bathroom. 

He had just stepped under the spray of water when he heard your girlish giggle getting louder. Frankie tried his hardest to steel himself, but your happiness was infectious and he couldn’t help but be affected, dropping his head forward with a content smile as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. And since then, this became a frequent part of your routine. 

On several occasions, you slept over at Frankie’s place and he drove you to work the next day. 

You struggled with this. You weren’t going to lie. The thought of one of your colleagues spotting you, and the gossip that would ensue, concerned you. But you brushed it off each time.

After all, it meant that Frankie would take you home as well - and that came with its own benefits.

You’d gotten into the habit of getting him all worked up on those days he was due to pick you up, deciding it was fun to have him show up wrecked and so hard for you. Sometimes he drove a little faster, gripped your thigh a little tighter, and braked a little harder as he rushed to get the two of you to someplace private. Whilst other times he’d take to finding a discreet place to park his car. 

Yeah, those were the days you’d texted him something filthy.

You figured out quite early that you were both into dirty talk, but you weren’t expecting it to escalate in the way it did. 

An incident occurred at the Millers’ BBQ, where everyone in the neighbourhood appeared to be out in full force. Despite you and Frankie pledging to behave yourselves, you couldn’t help but sneak off upstairs when the moment presented itself. You had to remind yourself that Benny had probably done the same, if not much worse, in your own bathroom as you let Frankie sit you up on the counter; his broad frame crowding you against the mirror and your heels digging into his back. He had come to love when you’d communicate how much you needed him by sinking your stilettos into him like a vice. It was a kind of foreplay and he was very much here for it. 

It was at that moment when he said it, as he had you spread out on the counter in your friend’s bathroom, fucking you good. 

You could’ve blamed it on the slight buzz of alcohol running through his veins. Or the fact you had been fucking each other a lot. The latter was more rational, you realised, yet you didn’t want to dwell on how you two got to this point. The anxiety and regret would creep back in, and you were having way too much to let yourself ruin it by overthinking.

“Fuck…Cariño. Feels so good. You like that, huh?”, he said.

You’d mewled out a “Yeah”, knowing Frankie needed to hear the praise, needed you to use your words.

What followed then, was a veiled threat to your dynamic. “Yeah…”, he groaned out. “You like it, huh? Letting me fuck you like this tight little pussy is mine.”

Frankie loved the way you whined at that, and he was perfectly content to watch you go wild as you took his cock like a champion, but you were getting too loud, so he covered your mouth with his; swallowing your cries of pleasure.

You should’ve noticed then that things were changing between the two of you, but you were too far gone at the time to pay it the attention it needed.

However, Frankie had been paying close attention to you. Specifically, you in his t-shirts, wearing only your panties and pottering around his place like you belonged there. 

You were blissfully unaware of how much this particular sight drove him crazy, but each time you wore one, Frankie died a little inside. He was overcome with the need to possess you. To make you his girl, have everyone know you warmed his bed. 

This feeling also reared its head whenever you called him baby. 

He’d never been one to jump to conclusions and he was definitely not one to overestimate a woman’s feelings towards him. But, against all odds, and because this was you, Frankie found himself desperately clinging to the pet name. He latched onto the idea that, maybe, he was your man and there was nobody else. Of course, Frankie knew what he signed up for. But he could still imagine what it would be like if things were different. 

But, afraid it would scare you off, Frankie subdued these urges every time. He’d often shut down when it all got to be too much for him to contemplate, rushing to another room where he’d make himself look busy. Unfortunately, you interpreted his struggle as him being distant. Closed-off. Emotionally unavailable. And in your eyes, this was the reason why you couldn’t let yourself fall for this man.

Despite the doubts you harboured, neither of you was prepared to stop.

The pace at which things were evolving terrified you, if you were being honest. It was as though you were heading towards a cliff edge, but you had taken the scenic route. 

The views were breathtaking, so you went along for the ride; paying no mind to where you were going.

You hated being unable to control the situation and part of you wanted to turn it around and go back to when you were just friends. Back then, you didn’t owe him anything. You could control the version of yourself you presented to him. But in this arrangement, Frankie was able to catch you off guard, sometimes. When he looked at you like you hung the moon, you felt as though you could fall into him with no parachute - give him more. And that scared you.

Frankie was scared, too.

In fact, he’s worried.

You’re currently enjoying a night out with your girlfriends whilst he’s home alone with his anxiety. 

He knows you can handle yourself, but he’s itching to hear from you. You’re having fun and you don’t need him, but he can’t help but keep glancing at his phone, thinking of texting you. Truthfully, Frankie’s afraid he’ll fade into your background. Every second you spend without him - untethered - is a chance for you to find something better and leave him behind.

He wants to be missed. Needs you to miss him.

However, Frankie’s not prepared to get this deep in a text message to you, so he settles for something a bit lighter. 

Releasing a strained sigh, he decides to bite the bullet and so begins to type out a message.

Meanwhile, in the club, you’re nursing your third margarita of the evening when the text comes through. 

Luckily, you’d agreed to watch the booth whilst your friends went to the bar for more drinks, meaning you were able to take a quick peek at your phone, away from prying eyes. 

You hated the way you doted on his every word, yet still, you ran your eyes over the text a few more times than necessary.

Hope you’re having fun. You know there’s a space in my bed if you want to crash here later.

Slightly buzzed from the cocktails you’d had so far, you aren’t sure whether this new sensation you’re feeling is down to the alcohol, or something else entirely. 

Being your usual flirtatious self, your instinct is to tease Frankie a little.

Your bed? Benny usually lets me crash with him after a girls night. Why should it be your bed, Francisco? X

It’s true. Benny did always offer you a place to stay at the end of the night, but it wasn’t like that. Yet Frankie doesn’t need to know that Benny always takes the couch, letting you sleep like a baby in privacy. Besides, you think it’s fun to rile him up. After all, you’re not sure how far he’ll go, to earn your company tonight. 

He doesn’t respond for a while, and you’re tapping your nails against the back of your phone, thankful that the bar service is slow tonight, delaying your friends’ return.

Fuck…is what comes to mind when Frankie reads your message. He’s driven wild by the thought of you in another man’s bed, even if it’s his friend who he knows has only ever been platonic with you. He’s not proud of his jealousy, as he knows what he signed up for. But he can’t help himself - he needs to give you a reason to end the night in his bed. He needs something that will reassure him: he’s not losing you. Thinking on his feet, despite having spent a solid ten minutes figuring out what to say, he replies.

Come on, baby. You know I can give you what you need tonight. Not sure Benny’s going to cut it. 

Kicking himself as he reads over his words, he knows he needs to give you more, so he sends another.

You think I can’t see through your games, Cariño. When you wake up needy in the middle of the night, it’s my cock you’ll be coming on. 

Oh. He’s playing dirty, you realise. You grab your drink and take a generous taste, needing something to cool you down desperately. 

Is he jealous? Your mind is racing with the possibilities of what this could mean for your relationship. 

Panic swirls in your stomach, letting you know that you may be heading into uncharted territory here. And to make matters worse, a glance to your left alerts you to the fact your friends are on their way back to the table.

You intended to reply with something equally as dirty as what he’d been sending you, yet as you spot your friends getting closer, you freak out and lock your phone, hoping they’re tipsy enough to gloss over the way you’re breathing a little harsher, right now.

You couldn’t deny it, Frankie’s way with words had you feeling hot. Heat pools between your thighs as you dwell on the delicious implications of ending the night in his bed, but you remind yourself that you need to appear unaffected or else you’ll be subject to interrogation.

It didn’t work, judging by Cami’s expression, and you take a moment to prepare yourself for the questions. Yet, there’s a look of real understanding on your friend’s face, like she senses your inner turmoil and feels for you. She assumes you’re tearing yourself apart over something, or someone, and she’s not sure that a crowded club is the right place to bring it up. Deciding to buy you some time, Cami suggests you accompany her to the bathroom.

Shooting her a look of gratitude, you let her lead you into a cubicle, before she turns to face you whilst leaning back against the door. 

You stare up at her from where you’re perched on the toilet, and you know she’s waiting for you to fill her in.

After a few seconds, you succumb. 

“I think I’m in too deep. Shit, Cami. Things are changing, and I don’t know if I like it.”

She doesn’t need you to elaborate. She knows you’re referring to a guy, and from the sounds of it, she can assume it’s casual. Well, supposed to be casual. The way you’re frantically chewing on your lip suggests otherwise.

Always in your corner, yet still firm enough to call you out when it’s needed, Cami’s been by your side long enough to tell when a man’s made a serious impression on you. Deciding it’s time to be firm, she weighs in on the situation.

“Being comfortable has never been enough for you. Change can be good. I know you know that, babe.”, she tells you.

“Who is he?”

You figure there’s no point in delaying the inevitable, so you reveal that it’s “A friend of Benny and Will. Uh…Frankie, the pilot.”

It’s hard to miss the proud smirk that Cami gives you. “Well-played.”, she says, chuckling slightly. “And that’s who you were sexting whilst we were at the bar, right?”

You nod, feeling less overwhelmed after opening up to her.

“Are you planning on showing me, then? I can’t help you blow his mind if you don’t let me see the texts.”, she adds smugly. Instantly putting you at ease.

You don’t need to ask her how she knew you were sexting Frankie, you’re just grateful that she’s a girls’ girl through and through, and you welcome her expertise in the matter. 

Cami’s about to suggest that you send him a flirty picture, with an even flirtier caption, until you scroll further down the conversation and you notice two new messages from the man in question.

It turns out that whilst you were stewing over your lover’s salacious messages, Frankie had gone through the motions, ten times over. He thought he’d pushed you too far. Pushed you away with his jealousy. 

He let himself simmer in his frustration before concluding that your lack of a response signified rejection. Frankie knew he’d shown his hand too soon. He’d fallen at your feet like all the other men, acting like a golden retriever in the way he fought for your attention. 

But still, your rejection hurt. It hurt enough for him to become defensive, trying to regain some of the control he’d forfeited to you. He shouldn’t have said what he said, but he let his emotions get the better of him.

You can’t quite believe what you’re reading, and even Cami appears to be shocked at the words staring back at you.

I get it. You don’t owe me anything, huh?  

And after he hadn’t heard from you for fifteen minutes, he sent another text.

You should stay at Benny’s tonight. Wherever you choose to go, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of options. 

All you see is red. All you feel is the unmistakable tinge of betrayal. You hadn’t expected Frankie to jump to conclusions, and you definitely hadn’t expected your Frankie - who was always so sweet and respectful - to degrade you like this. 

Some part of your brain is able to register Cami’s words and you hear her cursing Frankie with some very colourful language. You’re left feeling blindsided, unable to process his sudden resentment towards you, but nonetheless, you can’t allow yourself to get hung up on it, not when you were surrounded by such remarkable friends. 

You switch your phone off, determined to salvage the rest of your night, before letting Cami drag you to the dancefloor for some much needed release.

It’s no surprise, then, when Frankie’s 3 am apology text fails to come through.

****

Frankie becomes an expert at jumping to conclusions when it comes to you.

After you didn’t reply to his apology, and subsequently screened all of his calls, Frankie didn’t know what else he could do. 

He couldn’t reach you and you hadn’t made an effort to contact him. Hell, he knew he’d fucked up; he shouldn’t have spoken to you in the way he did, but he’d tried to make amends and yet you didn’t seem willing to hear him out.

Frankie doesn’t see you for a while. Eight days, to be exact. 

He knows you’re alright, thank god, as he hears from Will that you’d been offered a promotion at work and that he’d taken you out to dinner to celebrate.

And yet, it doesn’t get easier, he comes to accept, and he finds himself wanting to call you on multiple occasions, and he almost does, but something always stops him in his tracks.

Unable to stop replaying your words over in his head, Frankie’s overthought and overanalysed until the point of exhaustion. You were both to blame, considering neither of you had been willing to speak about your relationship. Expectations, boundaries and outcomes had all been forgotten. You’d gotten swept up in the pleasure and failed to address these crucial concerns, and now you were both reaping what you had sewed. 

It was supposed to be casual. It was supposed to be just sex. 

That’s what Frankie told himself when Benny revealed that he had set him up on a blind date with a mutual friend. 

Neither of you had told Benny, or Will and Santi for that matter, about the two of you and Frankie couldn’t have declined the invitation without arousing suspicion from the youngest of the group. He didn’t know where he stood with you, but he wasn’t going to drop you in it with the boys. He was way too protective of you to let that happen.

So, begrudgingly, Frankie agreed to the date.

The first you heard of the date was through Instagram, and Frankie and Imelda were well into their second drink of the evening by the time you’d found out. 

Turns out, Benny had crashed it around forty-five minutes in, having gotten a text from his friend revealing he wasn’t ‘feeling it’. Taking his wingman duties seriously, Benny wasn’t prepared to let Frankie give in just yet, so had shown up in an attempt to encourage him, and to salvage what was left of the night. Benny had brought a girl friend - whom you both had met whilst at college - hoping the double date vibes would put Frankie at ease, and as she had taken to posting on her story, you were able to poke your nose in.

It wasn’t spying, and you weren’t jealous. But when Stacey posted a picture of the group, you couldn’t help but fixate on the way Frankie had his arm around his date, leaning into her ear, and it looked as though she’d caught them during an intimate moment.

Due to the angle at which the photo had been taken, you couldn’t tell whether Frankie’s lips were just hovering over her ear, or whether they were pressed tight against her skin. His baseball cap cleverly hid the majority of his face from view, but you couldn’t deny what was plain to see. And it drove you mad. Though, you knew your anger wasn’t justified.

Preparing for the worst, you conclude that Frankie’s ready to move on from you. 

You wish you could put your phone aside and let it be. You wish you didn’t care. You wish that the thought of Frankie touching another woman didn’t make you want to die, and you wish you could stop yourself from doing what you were planning to do next.

There’s a fire in your eyes and you realise that, perhaps, you are jealous, though you don’t waste time dwelling on it. If you were going to keep Frankie’s interest, you needed to do something that would throw him off balance and you needed to do it soon. And you knew just what would do the trick. 

You practically run to the bedroom, pulling out one of Frankie’s old army t-shirts that you’d snagged from his place. Getting comfy on your bed, you slip the shirt up your skin until it exposes enough skin to drive your man wild. There was no doubt about it. Frankie adored your breasts, and he also adored the way you loved to tease. You are hoping that this sexy little underboob shot would make him forget all about his date. No disrespect to her, as any woman would be crazy to turn down a date with Francisco Morales, and you feel bad - honestly, you really do. But the anxiety in your chest is pulling you towards the action. Your body’s screaming at you to do something, like it senses that it’s about to lose Frankie’s touch, for good.

You angle your phone just right, so the camera focuses on the way your breasts peek out from under his t-shirt. Whilst you make sure to get your face in the shot, too, as you draw your bottom lip between your teeth and widen your eyes; looking all cute and innocent as you look up at the camera positioned above you. You know you’re anything but innocent right now, but you’re anticipating that Frankie will play right into your trap. As you have it on good authority that the man loves how you play coy, only to whine pathetically when he finally stretches you out with his cock. And by good authority, you’re referring to the way he grips your hips like your body gives him oxygen, or the way his big hands cup the back of your neck, fingers skimming over the side of your throat in a way that says, you’re staying right where I’ve got you. 

Throwing caution to the wind, you press send on the photo and you make sure to add a fitting caption. 

Your girl’s feeling a little lonely. Lucky she’s got your shirt to play in. Would be a shame for you to miss out, tonight. x

And you’ve got him. 

Hook, line and sinker; Frankie’s ready to come crawling back to you like a dog.

When he sees your name light up on his phone, notifying him that you’d sent him a photo, he needs to get somewhere private. And fast. 

He gives Imelda, as well as the other couple, some lame excuse about needing to get his jacket from the truck - just in case they decide to go somewhere with outdoor seating later on - and before he even reaches for his keys, he’s got his phone out ready. Somehow, he manages to hold off on opening your message, wanting to give you his full attention from the comfort of his driver’s seat. And he’s glad he did, as he pulls up the text and is greeted with what could only be described as a treat. Your eyes. Those lips. Your tits in… wait. Is that his shirt? Fuck, he doesn’t know where to look. His eyes rapidly move from each focal point in a frenzy to soak up everything you’d given him. You’d bestowed upon him a gift, and he needed to treasure it. Besides, he hadn’t heard from you in a while and he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to touch you, or even look at you, in this way again. 

And then, he casts his eyes down to the text that follows.

Your girl’s feeling a little lonely. Lucky she’s got your shirt to play in. Would be a shame for you to miss out, tonight. x

He takes a minute to process your words, but he’s unable to move past your girl and your shirt. Did you want him dead? Surely, that was your goal in pushing those exact buttons of his. You’d seen his possessiveness, and until now, Frankie was certain it had pushed you away; overwhelmed you. Were you now encouraging it?

Not wanting to miss his chance, Frankie recomposes himself, just enough for him to be able to send a semi-coherent reply. He also texted Benny, asking him to apologise to Imelda on his behalf and tell her he had to head home, as he wasn’t feeling well. Home wasn’t on the cards tonight, however, as he geared up to head to your place. 

Don’t play too hard without me, baby. On my way over now.

Somewhere on the drive over to yours, Frankie finds himself able to reflect on your relationship. 

Relationship. That word felt foreign on his tongue, but he didn’t hate it, he realised, as he allowed himself to fantasise about a version of you two where you dated, held hands, and openly expressed your affection in front of your friends. 

You’d never given him any indication that you wanted more. Until tonight. 

Frankie’s aware that you’ve given him a crumb, and he’s already dreaming about the whole damn thing, but he can’t help himself from pushing forward.

His attraction, and his appreciation for you had grown, and he often found himself doting on the way you held your coffee in the morning like it was precious cargo, just as much as he doted on the way you went all cock-dumb in his bed after he’d worn you out for hours and hours. He’d begun to notice the little things that made you, you. And he knew he could fall in love with you. It would be so easy. 

Frankie considers how he’s probably ruined it for himself, already. He spoke to you in a derogatory way, that night you were out with the girls, and you’d somehow found out he’d been on a date with another woman. He knows that, on paper, the date isn’t something he should feel guilty for, as you two weren’t exclusive. But you were still involved and he has to admit he hasn't handled things in the best way. 

As he turns onto your street, he concludes that he wants you.

Frankie wants to be with you, and he’s willing to have you in whatever capacity you’re prepared to offer him. If you’re not ready. If you can’t give him what he needs, like the self-sabotaging martyr, he’s willing to take whatever he can get if it means he doesn’t have to give this feeling up. 

Then he’s at your door, trying his hardest to stop the tapping of his foot, which would surely give him away.

You appear from behind it, and he’s a fool not to notice the tears staining your cheeks as he makes his way past you. 

He bounds on you, the force of his kisses backing you up against the kitchen counter. And there are so many words on the tip of your tongue, but you haven’t seen this man in over a week and it’s so easy to fall back in again. 

After he’s somewhat satisfied that you’re real, and you’re here in his arms, he pulls back to address you with a needy tone of voice. One that was unfamiliar to both of you. 

“What was that, huh?” he demands. Looking anywhere but at your face, it’s no surprise that he misses the anguish that clouds your usual playful expression.

After a beat of silence, he pushes again.

“You couldn’t let me try to get over you.”, says Frankie, and this time, you notice the pain in his voice.

It’s like you’re frozen. Paralysed by the weight of everything that’s gone unsaid between you. 

Silence follows. It’s the kind of quiet before a storm, and neither of you knows what to do to protect yourselves. 

He’s holding onto your hips like they’re his altar, and he’s staring down at your body like it will lead him to enlightenment; give him the answers he needs. 

When he moves his gaze back to your face, that’s when he sees the absence of light in your eyes. You look troubled. Uncertain. And Frankie’s kicking himself for not noticing the tears that are streaking your soft skin earlier. What had happened between sending him the photo and now?

Cupping your face with a tenderness unlike the way he had just kissed you so roughly, Frankie’s at a loss for what to do. He just knows he wants to soothe the pain; your pain and his, and make it all better. 

Your silence feels like another dose of rejection, so Frankie takes a step back from you.

He’s amazed at his own courage, as he finds himself needing to communicate what he needs, right now. 

“You know what I want.”, he says.

The look in your eyes tells him you were expecting this conversation. And it crushes him, because he needs you to fight for him. But you won’t. He can see that much from your pained expression and the way your body is curling in on itself. You’re retreating.

And you are retreating. You want so badly to run to him; to hold him in your arms and promise that you’ll try, you’ll give him what he needs. 

You know you could love him right. Some mature part of you wants you to acknowledge that you are falling for him, and have been since the first night. But you’re confused, driven by heightened, raw emotion and you haven’t taken the time to process what you’re feeling for him.

His rejection still stings you, and you struggle to bounce back when you’ve been hurt. You know the adult thing to do is to talk about it - patch things up and move past it. But you’re a creature of habit and what you actually did was stew in your irrational anger, before closing yourself off to him. He’d tried to reach out and you’d crawled deeper into your pit of self-sabotage. Yeah, it wasn’t healthy and perhaps Frankie was better off without the hurt you’d most likely cause him if you gave this thing a chance to grow into something more.

A lot of self-work needed to happen before you’d be ready to let him in; let him sink deeper underneath your skin. 

So you stayed put, whilst your words failed you. 

Frankie’s eyes are raking over you so intensely, awaiting your next move, and all you can do is look anywhere but at him. 

The tension in your body has been stretched too far, and so it snaps. And you’re sure that both of you can hear the way the energy in the room shifts just like that. 

“Francisco… I -”, is all that you manage.

And Frankie feels as though he can read your mind. 

What you meant to say, he thinks, was I can’t give you what you want. 

And he gives you a moment to finish your admission. But nothing comes.

Wanting to be anywhere but here - facing your rejection, again, Frankie pivots towards the front door, ready to leave. 

“I shouldn’t have come here.”, he says.

Then as he darts towards the exit, you call out his name, and his movements still completely.

You continue. “I - … “, before releasing a sigh. 

“Frankie”, you whine, though it’s not like he’s used to hearing. It’s a broken whine, telling him all he needs to know.

You’re not ready.

“Tell me to stay. Tell me you want me.”, he pleads. 

And you think it’s kinder to let him go now. As it’s only a matter of time before you break his heart anyway. 

This arrangement was supposed to be casual. It wasn’t supposed to evolve this way, but you had both fallen in a little too deep, with too little communication. 

Fuck, he’s a good guy. Why won’t you let yourself have this? Have him? 

By now, your delicate tears have given way to distressed sobs, and you need him to walk away from you, so you can let it all out. 

After what feels like an age, Frankie leaves. He realises that he’s powerless. He’d handed over all of his control, to you, and you now held the advantage. 

As you watch the door close behind him, you release the hand that’s covering your mouth and unleash your heartache. 

****

It’s not a secret that you miss him.

Your body feels the loss, as you regress into the shell of your hurt. 

You can’t eat or sleep for the first few days, and when your appetite returns, you’re too anxious to make a run for some groceries. You’d called in sick to work, and that should’ve been a sign that Frankie meant more to you than a ‘fuck buddy’. 

You were grieving him. And as cliché as it sounds, you didn’t know what you had until it was gone. Or more so, you didn’t know that you wanted more until you had nothing.

The days that followed that fateful night in your kitchen were filled with longing. You yearned for the comfort of his body: the softness of his hair underneath your fingers, the sound of his voice over the phone, the way he held you like his favourite memory. You couldn’t bring yourself to wash his clothes that appeared in your laundry; you weren’t ready to erase his scent. It was somehow calm and untamed at the same time. Like Frankie.

You also missed the way he made you feel so needed when he’d beg for your touch.

But physical touch aside, you missed his mind, too.

You found yourself wanting to bask in his dark humour; the way he was often quiet and observant in social situations, only to cut in with something downright philosophical when it counted. Truthfully, you thought a lot about the way he’d listen, hands on his hips and mouth slightly ajar, looking like he was sizing you up, though you knew he held nothing but empathy and respect for those he cared about. 

It was down to you now. You needed to be the one to show up, for him. You needed to reach out to him, tell him what he means to you, but you were worried you’d missed your chance. That night in your kitchen couldn’t have been more poetic; he’d come running to you and it would’ve been perfect had you crashed into him with open arms and an open mind. But you didn’t. And that left you playing out scenarios in your head, thinking of all the ways you could confess the depth of your affection to your lover. 

What would he say? 

Would he take you in his arms and vow to forget the past? 

Would he be forgiving? Or would he be guarded, detached?

You imagined the latter was more likely, though you had come to accept that you were the one responsible for the limbo you were both existing in.

And of all the ways you’d imagined seeing Frankie again, you never expected it to be in the grocery store; dressed for comfort and definitely not to impress. 

He’s got a six-pack of beers in his hand as you let your eyes soak him up. He looks good, but also exhausted, and although your heart aches at the thought of him struggling, the needy part of you latches onto it as evidence of him missing you.

Frankie had once revealed that he loved sharing a bottle of wine with a woman, as he enjoyed getting comfortable enough with a partner to share the pleasant buzz it gave. And that was something you had delighted in, too, before taking it for granted. Though as you glanced back down at the beers he was holding, you were so thankful for his choice of beverage, as it signified there wasn’t someone waiting on him tonight.  

You found yourself wanting to be the one waiting on him. Being the one he came home to every night, and the thought sent a gentle thrill through your body.

So you held on tighter to your tub of ice-cream, channeling your trepidation into the object in question as it gave your hands something to do and slightly quelled the urge to reach out and touch Frankie. 

As you pluck up just enough courage to walk over to him, he reaches for a bag of chips, and you believe he's blissfully unaware of the baggage you’re bringing him. 

The distance between you is not enough, as you know you’re only a few steps away from having to confront this thing. Tail between your legs, you slowly move closer to him. 

Of course, as an ex-veteran, Frankie had clocked you before you even considered approaching him. He’s grateful for this, though, as it gave him a sliver of time to compose himself before you had eyes on his weary form. However, he can’t help but think the way you’re slinking towards him, in an attempt to appear discreet, is cute. Despite how much he wishes he could refrain from becoming even more infatuated with you.

Arguably, the anxiety in his stomach tells Frankie he’s not ready to face you. Though he doubts he could ever feel completely ready. So, at the moment when you become too close to ignore, he lifts his head, knowing his time’s up.

Words aren’t exchanged for a while. Rather, you’re preoccupied with assessing each other; devouring with your eyes what you’ve been deprived of for over a week. 

Frankie knows he can’t be the one to break the silence. It has to be you, and if he gives you this, he’ll never know whether you mean to fight for him. He needs to see you step outside your comfort zone and give him the words you’ve held hostage.

And you do, after a poignant pause. 

“Hi, uh - … you look…good, Frankie.” is all you manage to say. You find a little more confidence as you go on, and the way you breathe out his name with poise gives Frankie hope for what’s to come. 

He doesn’t think it’s the right time for him to speak, though, and he doesn’t want to spook you should you be preparing to speak candidly. So, he doesn’t say anything.

You gesture towards the beers and chips in his basket, “Oh, are you seeing the boys tonight?”

Frankie puts the basket down, then, and folds his arms over his chest. He gives you a quick shake of the head, before telling you “No.” 

He’s trying to appear unbothered, but the way his laboured breaths are visible through his chest tells you otherwise.

You’re fighting the instinct to run but you somehow manage to continue.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you.”, you admit, and then you tell him, “I’ve been thinking about everything. About you. A lot.”

Frankie can’t help himself, and he jumps in, craving your honest disclosure. 

“What do you want. Really?”, he says, and he looks so tired - exhausted by your indecision, and it makes you loathe how avoidant you’ve been with him.

Oh, you think. We’re getting to this now.

“I- I’m not used to… used to letting someone in. Y-You-” and Frankie cuts you off.

“Cariño.”, he says sternly. “I need an answer.”, and he’s begging you.

“Francisco!”, you whine petulantly. And if he couldn’t see the pained expression on your face, he’d be offended. You’re conflicted, and he wants to believe that you’re trying. 

“You want me to tell you how I feel, then listen.”, you assert, before adding a softer “Please”, as you look at him like he could break your heart with any sudden moves.

“Frankie… y-you saw me, like actually took the time to learn it all. I couldn’t hide. I thought you’d find something that would make you leave me alone, and I wasn’t prepared to l-lose it.”

He leans closer, ever so slightly and it’s the encouragement you need to continue.

“Didn’t want to lose you, Frankie. You’re a good man. A man I could love, and… and I was happy but I was afraid it couldn’t last. S-so I kept going back and forth, daring you to stay. Seeing if you’d give up.”, you say, and the last five words come out sounding more uncertain than the rest.

Meanwhile, Frankie’s processing. He inhales every word out of your mouth like he’s gasping for breath. He’s needed to hear this - hear you - and it feels long overdue.

Your strength doesn’t fade, as you continue.

“I don’t know if I deserve you.”, you confess softly, before revealing, “You could be better off with someone else.”, and you can’t look him in the eye as you share such a deep-rooted insecurity with the man you’d come to adore.

It’s genuine, everything you’re saying, and Frankie sees that you’re trying, for him. He’s finding it hard not to say fuck mature communication and comfort you, knowing you could do with some physical touch to ground you. He wants to kiss you until all your worries dissipate, hating the thought that you could ever underestimate yourself in this way. If only you saw what Frankie saw when he looked at you, you’d be walking on air.

But he knows he needs to tread carefully. You’re giving him an inch, and he wants a mile, but he knows you. Knows the vulnerability you’re slowly welcoming is a lot for you, right now, and he’s appreciative regardless.

Then, you go and throw him a curveball. 

Taking a risk, you move in even closer, until your feet are practically covering his, and you’re looking up at him with an innocence and vulnerability in your eyes that you reserve for him, only.

And your voice wobbles as you say, “Shit, Frankie. I need you.”

He looks down at you and you appear so small and fragile beneath his gaze. There’s no trace of your usual playfulness or moxie on your expression. And in your voice, there’s no trace of the pretence you sometimes hide behind when forced to confront your emotions. And Frankie registers that you must really mean it this time.

He needs to believe that you mean it. That you really need him, as the alternative is something he’s not prepared to brave.

Arguably, you’ve put yourself out there this time, and Frankie would be lying if he said he wasn’t concerned about you reverting back to reticence, should he give you another chance. Who’s to say you’ll maintain this level of communication with him? He can’t go through this again if you aren’t truly invested in moving forward.

“Fuck, I never thought we’d be stood in a grocery store having this conversation.”, you add to ease the tension, and the way Frankie lets out a breathy chuckle tells you he’s just as grateful for the relief from the heaviness.

After a moment of intense deliberation, Frankie arrives at his choice.

He understands that acknowledgement is only the start, and he needs to see that you’re willing to commit to something more, whatever that may be.

But right there on the confectionery aisle, as the artificial lighting of the store illuminates every emotion on your face - and he sees the fear, the concern, and the tenderness that gives you away, Frankie decides that he needs you. 

And, like an addict, he swears to have you in whatever capacity he can get.

You can’t read him, and you’re on edge awaiting his response.

Then with a newfound sense of ease, Frankie picks up the six-pack from the basket beside you, as you watch his every move; afraid you’ll miss something. 

He gestures to the beers, before the slightest hint of a smirk greets you from beneath his baseball cap.

“How about we swap these for some of that wine you like? Then we can head back to my place. Talk some more.” he says.

And he knows those last three words could scare you off. 

Yet as you take his hand, pulling him over to the aisle you need, Frankie feels hopeful. 

It’s a kind of hope that simultaneously scares and excites him, and right now, he’s okay with that.

Thank you for reading! Please consider commenting, liking or reblogging if you enjoyed it. <3

[awkward-tension-art]

Darkess on Umbara Chp.13 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 12. Epilogue

Carnage Of Krell

cw: Rex x Reader, Reader is a medic, incorrect military procedure, graphic descriptions of injuries, blood, swearing, death and battle, Canon character death, Spoilers for the Umbara Arc, Pong Krell is an asshole, reader insert, names of non-canon dead clones, Grief, betrayal, reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), if i miss a tag LMK

Minors DNI

You abandoned the title of healer in order to pursue vengeance. It went against your oath. You were supposed to save lives, not end them.

But monsters shouldn’t be saved.

Which is why you joined the squad. Standing shoulder to shoulder with Kix, Tup, and other troopers of both the 501st and the 212th. Everyone around you wanted justice. 

“What I'm proposing is highly treasonous,” Captain Rex stood in front of you, speaking with authority, “If any man chooses to opt out do it now,”

Everyone remained silent but stepped forward, heads held high. 

“From this point forward we are entering uncharted territory,” The captain emphasized, “my orders are to arrest General Krell for treason against the Republic!”

You followed his lead. Pistol in hand, senses sharp, and focus hardened. Your gaze met the man you love, and you hoped he understood. 

I’d follow you into Hell, Rex.

Every step to the airbase had a purpose. Every soldier was geared-up and ready to take down the ruthless Jedi. Jesse and Fives were freed and given their own rifles. 

The ARC trooper looked especially determined to arrest Krell. It would only be fair that he was the one to toss the former General into a cell. You were just happy to be helping him achieve such a thing.

With your pistol loaded and ready, you kept your eyes forward as the doors opened to the top floor of the tower. Soldiers filled in, surrounding the Jedi. He didn;t seem bothered, simply staring out the window over the dark landscape. 

You followed Fives, deciding to keep out of Rex’s way as he walked forward, “General Krell, you're being relieved of duty.” 

The besalisk turned slowly, keeping his hands behind his back, “It's treason then,” He growled.

Rex aimed his pistols, keeping his voice steady but commanding, “Surrender General.” The other soldiers shifted with their leaders' movements. Everyone was primed, ready to strike. 

Krell’s steps were slow and deliberate as he walked forward before stopping, “You're committing mutiny, captain.” He sounded so…uninterested in the situation at hand.

Tup and Kix moved from their spots to keep their rifles pointed at the devious generals back. They remained firm and determined, fingers on the triggers of their guns. 

“Explain your actions,” the captain of the 501st snarled. They deserved an explanation for everything.

“My actions?”

“For ordering your troops against one another!” Rex snapped. 

Krell seemed smug, “Oh…That,” His tone was clearly that of someone who was bored with the topic, “I’m surprised you were able to figure it out. For a clone.” He spat the last word.

Fives motioned to the squad and they moved, taking two steps closer to the former general. Yet, he still seemed unbothered. 

“Surrender, General.” Captain Rex commanded, You’re out number-”

Krell stomped forward with one foot and shot all four arms out. He used the Force to shove everyone back. 

You slammed into the wall, knocking the wind right out of your lungs. The other soldiers were in a similar state, but everyone recovered quickly. You began firing your pistol, aiming towards the corrupt Jedi. The other soldiers did the same, hoping to overwhelm him with the sheer number of blaster bolts.

“You dare to attack a jedi!” the besalisk shouted, twirling his now activated lightsabers. He moved with practiced skill, deflecting every shot.

Damnit! Not good!

He leapt forward, slashing down two soldiers. They collapsed, dying almost instantly from the power of the strike. 

A 212th trooper rushed forward attempting to charge the bastard, but was swiftly cut down as well. His body was kicked forward, slamming into the wall, narrowly missing Rex. 

“I will not be undermined,” Krell twirled his sabers, pausing his movements to glare at the 501st captain, “By creatures bred in some laboratory!” He turned swiftly, breaking the window of the tower and leaping down to the airbase below. 

“Follow him!” Rex commanded. 

He, and the other soldiers began to rush down to the ground floor, but you stopped. Most lightsaber strikes were instantly fatal, but you checked for a pulse from the troopers Krell cut down anyway. 

Even if you craved vengeance, you were still a doctor. 

No pulse. Nothing. For all of them.

Confirmed to be dead, you left them and followed the soldiers down. Your steps caught up, and you kept next to Fives as the clones gave chase. However, the small group had been stalled by Dogma stepping out from behind a starship.

“Hold it right there!” He demanded.

Rex pulled his pistols and aimed on the younger trooper, “Lower your weapon, Dogma.” His voice was steady and calm, hoping to talk down the clearly conflicted clone.

He shook his head, “I can’t do that, sir!”

“That's an order!”

“It's my duty!” Dogma aimed his rifle at Jesse, then you, then Fives, “You’re all traitors!”

Your lover lowered one of his pistols and removed his helmet to speak, “I used to believe that being a good soldier meant doing everything they told you, that's how they engineered us,” He looked over at you before staring right at Dogma, “But we're not droids. we're not programmed, you have to learn to make your own decisions, Dogma.” 

Tup approached his batchmate before raising his own rifle on the panicked trooper. He kept calm, even when Dogma shifted and pointed his weapon directly at him, “Dogma, don’t do it.”

Thankfully, that's as far as Dogma went. He dropped his rifle and looked down. His turmoil was clear, even as he was tackled by other soldiers. 

“Take him to the brig.” Rex commanded, putting his helmet back on, “Troopers, don’t let General Krell escape!”

The chase was on. 

You remained out of the captain's way, pretty much attaching yourself to Fives. You’d defer to him if you weren’t able to stay close to your lover. Afterall, under your thirst for justice, you were still a doctor. A healer intended to protect and save, not fight and kill.

Krell broke something inside of you. You’ve abandoned your purpose, becoming a vengeful, angry shell of your former self. At least for now.

“I got you,” the ARC trooper spoke next to you as you both navigated the dense, black and red Umbaran jungle, “That's what you say when you take care of one of us,” His stepped over a glowing root, and you followed, “Since you’ve had all of us, let me have you this time. Follow my lead.” 

“Thanks, Fives.” You responded, keeping your eyes forward. The land was covered in a gray fog, making it difficult to watch exactly where you were going.

“Anyone got anything?” Rex spoke lowly into his communicator. 

“Negative, Captain. We lost him.” The soldier on the other end responded. However, after a second, the familiar sound of whirling lightsabers pierced through the communicator, “Wait! He’s too powerful!” Blaster shots echoed in the distance and the trooper cried in his com. You could also make out the distinct cruel laugh of the Jedi.

Fives knelt, focusing his scope, “He’s coming!” The ARC trooper warned. 

There was a thick silence that fell over every soldier around you. It was only broken by more gleeful laughter from Krell, “You should have listened to the ARC trooper from the beginning, Captain.”

You got back-to-back with Fives, pistol raised and ready. That damn Jedi’s voice seemed to come from every direction.

“He was right, I was using you.” More laughter from that bastard. Krell leapt from the branches above you and landed on top of a group of clones. His large foot crushed one of them, and his green lightsaber stabbed through another. He activated his blue saber and twirled the lethal weapons, “You’ve all been my pawns!”

“Get him!”

The corrupt General began laughing again as he was shot at. Unbothered by the blaster bolts, he dashed forward, cutting down the closest clone. He turned, slashing two others, sending them to their graves. 

You and the other soldiers continued to fire, hoping to find a way to get past the defense of his double-ended blades. He stepped forward, spinning his weapons, blocking every shot aimed towards him. Without even looking he managed to kill three more clones. 

This was a game to him. You realized with horror. He was having fun.

Something, the Force, wrapped around your body, restraining you. Krell had an open hand raised, laughing cruelly. You tried to aim your pistol only to fail, “You’ve fascinated me, Doctor.” He taunted before throwing you. Your back slammed into a tree, ripping a groan from your throat, “What do you see in these…inferior creatures?”

One of his large feet slammed next to you, the tip of his green lightsaber was level with your throat. Your pistol had fallen out of your reach when he threw you, leaving you unable to defend yourself. 

“Bastard!” You spat. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Fives trembling in rage and Rex damn near frozen in terror.

No pistol, but you had an idea. Your hand reached into one of your packs and wrapped around one of your surgical tools.

Krell didn’t seem very interested. He continued to use his blue lightsaber to deflect the blaster bolts as he stood over you, “That didn’t answer my question, Doctor.”

Your eyes glared up at him, “These soldiers are better men than you ever were!” In a surprisingly quick movement, you brandished your laser scalpel and stabbed his foot with it. You took a sick sense of satisfaction hearing him yelp in pain. 

“Ingrate!” He shouted, leaping back to defend himself from the barrage of blaster shots. The Force restrained you again, and the Jedi threw you. Your body hit the hard plastoid of a soldier's chest plate as someone caught you. However, they remained standing, wrapping one arm around you and keeping you up as well. Once you got your bearings, you looked up to Rex holding you with one arm as he fired his pistol with the other. 

“Hi.” You greeted him sweetly, “Thank you, for catching me.”

Now wasn’t the time, but…Damn, you really loved this man.

You felt his grip on you become tighter. He was shaking, ever so slightly, but remained focused. 

Krell Jumped forward, grabbing another soldier. The 501st trooper cried out in panic before being raised in the air and brought down on the general’s knee. The snap was audible and loud. To add insult to injury, he threw the trooper to the side like trash. 

Dead? Most likely. I need to check.

You broke away from your lover and ran to the trooper. Feeling for a pulse, you found nothing. 

His name was Faux.

Fyre. Vim. Oz. Ringo. North. Gabe. Tro. Tess. Zeb. Sante. Reign. Pheon. Dawn. Nim. Jamie. Hek. Recon. Mav. Zeo. Fisher. Hinge. Trident. Iron. Mesh. Steele. Bruno. Zeke. Jumper. Aura. Dia. Silk. Forty. Thrall. Hardcase. Uno. Barr. Filter. Faux. 

You looked up just in time to watch Krell throw Tup deeper into the dense, dark jungle. Without thinking, you sprinted in that direction, hoping and praying your friend would be alright. Your steps slowed when you saw him get up and raise a hand to stop you. 

Behind him, the tendrils of a fanged beast underground waved around. The bioluminescence of its mouth was rather distinct. Tup saved Dogma from one of these earlier.

“Are you ok?” You asked him, taking slow and deliberate steps towards him. That beast scared you.

“I have an idea.” was his response to you. Tup got to his feet and activated his comm, “Captain Rex, this is Tup. if you can, force the General towards me.”

Rex’s confusion was apparent over the comm, “What? Why?”

“Trust me, Sir!”

With Tup’s certainty, you stepped a wide circle around the Umbaran creature, getting to his side. You had no idea what he was thinking, but you hoped it worked.

You really couldn’t handle losing another friend.

After a moment, Rex commanded through the communicator, “Troopers, listen up. Circle around, lure him towards Tup!”

“Tup…” You followed him, making sure to watch where you placed your feet. Your laser scalpel was warm in your hand, prepared to use it to fight that damn beast under the ground if need be, “Can I at least get a heads up before you get yourself killed?”

His rifle was tight in his hands as he watched the battle in the distance. Through the fog and darkness, you could make out the bodies of soldiers running past Krell, towards your location. Tup fired his blaster once he spotted the corrupt jedi. 

The former General skidded to a stop and whirled to face him. The trooper shouted, ticking him off even more, “Hey ugly! Come and get us!”

“Tup!” You stepped back, raising your small weapon. Mentally, you calculated how fast you’d have to get the fuck away from the deraged besalisk. 

Krell sprinted at the both of you. His sick smile became more and more clear as he approached. His lightsabers were activated at his side, prepared to kill the both of you. 

Tup didn’t move. He lowered his blaster and tensed, lowering his head. 

Was he trying to get himself killed!?

You took a step forward, hoping maybe you could tackle him out of the way before Krell got to him. However, it turned out that you didn’t need to worry. 

The Umbaran beast lashed its tendrils out, grabbing the Jedi and swinging him in the air. He cried out and grunted, waving his lightsabers around, trying to get the creature to drop him. His blades managed to sever the creature's tongue, sending the damn thing into a frenzy.

Tup you absolute genius!

Krell was thrown to the ground before getting picked up again. His green lightsaber slipped from his large hands and you dove down to grab it. Sadly, he still had his blue saber, which he used to kill two other troopers. 

Despite the disorientation, the Jedi proved to be a great warrior, managing to keep an eye on his surroundings. The soldiers had regrouped, firing their blasters at him, only to have their shots continuously deflected. The beast waved the besalisk around, giving him the chance to slice off the calf of a 212th trooper. 

Instantly cauterized. Pain management will be key. Calm him before he goes into shock.

Your instincts kicked in. You were a doctor, damnit! Abandoning your drive for vengeance, you skidded to the troopers side, immediately tending to him. The painkillers were in his system before he could fully process what happened. 

The sound of a lightsaber slicing followed by a thump and a groan filled your ears. You looked up fast enough to watch Tup fire a stun bolt on the besalisk. Krell let out a choked growl before collapsing on the ground. 

“I stunned him, sir.” Tup sounded triumphant. 

Rex kicked the Jedi rolling him on his back, “Nice work, Tup.” He nodded to the younger trooper.

Fives and Jesse got cuffs on the bastard, ending the fight then and there. 

“Get the fucker in the brig.” Your lover spat, “Drag him if you have to.”

It didn’t take long to return to the air base. Krell hadn’t managed to run far, so even with his unconscious body and the injured, you all managed to return before he even woke up. 

You wanted to be there when he did, though. So you asked Jesse to inform you when the Jedi opened his eyes. It gave you enough time to help any injured that survived the lightsaber wounds. 

Not many. You noticed bitterly. Krell killed too many good soldiers. 

You were putting one more trooper to his permanent rest when you got the com. You left the injured with Kix and left the medical bay. Rex, Fives and Jesse were at the tower by the time you and Tup both arrived. Wordlessly, all of you went down to the air base prisons. 

Dogma scrambled to his feet, seeing the captain again. Regret and shame was clear on the trooper, as he kept his gaze downward.

The Jedi was seated on the floor as if meditating. As soon as he heard you come down the lift, he raised his head and snarled. 

“Why, General?” Rex spoke first, approaching the cell, “Why kill your own men?”

Krell chuckled darkly as he stood, “Because I can.” His voice was smug, and full of ego, “Because you fell for it. Because you're inferior.”

“But you’re a Jedi! How could you?”

“A Jedi?” The former general laughed again, “I am no longer naive enough to be a Jedi,” His words dripped with hate and venom as he spoke, “A new power is rising, I’ve foreseen it. The Jedi are going to lose this war and the Republic will be ripped apart from the inside,” Even from a distance, the darkness inside of him was clear in every word, “In its place is going to rise a new order and I will rule as part of it!”

You turned, sharing a look with Jesse before staring back at the former Jedi. 

Rex growled, “You’re a Separatist.” 

Krell shook his head and stood tall, looking down at everyone in the room, “I serve no one's side. Only my own, and soon, my new master.”

Master?

“You’re an agent of Dooku.” Your lover stepped forward, keeping his hate filled gaze on the disgraced general.

“Not yet, but when I get out of here, I will be.” The fallen Jedi sounded certain in his words, “after I've succeeded in driving the Republic from Umbara the Count will reward my actions and make me his new apprentice.”

Dogma cried out from his cell, “How could you do this? You had my trust! My loyalty!” Even through the barrier keeping him in, you could see his eyes, glossy with tears, “I followed all of your orders, and you made me kill my brothers!”

You honestly felt bad for the poor trooper. He really thought he was doing the right thing.

“That’s because you were the biggest fool of them all, Dogma!” Krell cruelly laughed at the distressed soldier, “I counted on blind loyalty like yours to make my plan succeed!”

“Fucking bastard!” You spat, “That will never happen!” 

“You’re a traitor, General, and you will be dealt with as one.” Rex seethed, keeping eye contact with Krell. 

“You never learn, Captain.” He sounded smug as he turned and sat back down, “The Umbarans are going to retake this base, and when they do, I will be free.” The besalisk lowered his head and closed his eyes, as if meditating again. 

The conversation was over. 

“Sick, twisted fucking…” Fives crossed his arms and grumbled as you all got on the lift and raised out of the brig, “General Skywalker will want to punish Krell himself.” 

“Agreed.” Jesse mumbled. 

You stepped forward, taking a hold of Rex’s hand, “Cyare.” Your voice was soft, “It’ll be alright.” 

He looked back at you, giving you a ghost of a smile. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Jesse nudge Tup before whispering, “Don’t say a word to anyone about the captain and doctor.” 

“Understood.” 

“Good man.”

Once the doors to the outside opened, you were immediately greeted by Hana, “Captain,” She saluted Rex, “We’ve repaired the transmitter. It looks like it was sabotaged,” The trooper explained, “Despite that, we’ve received a message from General Kenobi. His forces have captured the capital, but the remaining Umbarans are heading here.”

Another battle…

“Get everyone on the perimeter! We need to prepare for a full scale attack!” The clone captain barked his orders. 

“Yes sir!” Hana saluted before putting her helmet on and turning to rush off to do as he commanded. 

Rex turned back, facing you and the others, “Krell sabotaged the transmitter. He's been against us from the beginning!” Everyone has been played for fools, and the clone captain was taking it especially hard.

Without pause, Fives spoke up first, clearly angry, “If the Umbarans get to him, he’ll turn over all our intel! The defense codes, everything!” The ARC trooper took a step back, motioning to the door you all had just walked through, “He’ll strike a crippling blow to the Republic!” 

Jesse stepped up, “something has to be done! We can't risk the possibility that he might escape!”

“As long as Krell is alive, he is a threat to every one of us.” Tup reasoned, looking towards the Captain. 

It was clear your lover was conflicted. Clones were made to serve the Jedi and the Republic. Killing their General, even as an act of justice, goes against their very creation. It wouldn’t be easy…

“Rex,” You abandoned protocol. Right now, you chose not to be the 501st field surgeon. You chose to be his cyare. You took his gloved hand and squeezed it, “He’s a traitor. One who has done irreparable harm to you and your brothers. If the Umbarans let him out, he’ll hurt even more people.”

You could see the conflict in his beautiful eyes. With a sigh he nodded, “I…agree.”

The five of you went back into the tower, lowering into the brig. Once there, Fives approached Dogma’s cell and opened it, getting him to his feet. 

Rex stepped forward, keeping a steady glare on Krell, “Turn around, and step toward the wall.” He commanded, readied one of his pistols. 

The former General rolled his small eyes and turned.

“On your knees.” Your lover growled. 

Damn…not the time. But damn…

Jesse pressed a button on the console, opening the cell. Tup remained next to him, stock still.

The former Jedi chuckled darkly, turning his head slightly, “You’re in a position of power now. How does it feel?” He sneered. 

“I said,” Rex steadied his pistol, aimed right at Krell’s back, “On. Your. Knees.”

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” The disgraced General taunted, voice smug and full of hate, “But I can sense your fear.”

There was a shift in Rex. Suddenly, he seemed uncertain, and even scared to a degree. 

He’s trying to go against his very purpose. 

Your eyes roamed over to Fives and the rifle on his hip. If Rex couldn’t pull the trigger, who would?

Could you?

“You’re shaking, aren’t you?” Krell continued to poke at the clones' anxiety, “What are you waiting for? The Umbarans are getting closer.”

The captain tried to steady his trembling aim, “I have to do this.” 

What would happen to Rex if he did? Court martial? Arrested? Decommissioned? Would Kamino call for his mind to be wiped?

You took a subtle step towards Fives, hand slowly reaching for the rifle on his hip.

The fallen Jedi laughed, “You can’t do it, can you?” His fucking voice was smug and overconfident, “Eventually you’ll have to do the right thing and-” 

In one swift movement, you slipped Fives’ rifle into your hands and pulled the trigger, ripping Pong Krell's life away. 

He collapsed, choking on his last words and hitting the ground. 

Save them. Protect them. 

All of those Krell hurt and killed ran through your mind. 

Fyre. Vim. Oz. Ringo. North. Gabe. Tro. Tess. Zeb. Sante. Reign. Pheon. Dawn. Nim. Jamie. Hek. Recon. Mav. Zeo. Fisher. Hinge. Trident. Iron. Mesh. Steele. Bruno. Zeke. Jumper. Aura. Dia. Silk. Forty. Thrall. Hardcase. Uno. Barr. Filter. Faux. 

The 501st. 

The 212th. 

Your eyes met your lovers. Rex looked at you, surprised, fearful and devastated. You went against your purpose as a doctor. All so he didn’t have to. 

You’d do it again. To protect him. Save him. For him.

Rex.

[gogogodzilla]

day 7, face fucking

sam drake x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, sam is mean, dirty talk, oral sex, teasing, gagging, sam calls reader princess kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

Sam drags you to the middle of nowhere. Again. As you stomp through some godforsaken rainforest in search of god knows what, you reconsider all of your life choices. The air is sticky and thick with humidity, and sweat drips from your brow.

“You know, I thought we would’ve been retired after all that Libertalia business,” you grumble, glaring at Sam’s back as he leads you. 

“We both agreed to do this job, princess,” he retorts, paying your tone no mind. 

“Well, if I would’ve known we were going to be lost in the middle of a jungle, I would’ve said no.”

Sam halts and you nearly run into his back. He turns to face you, a scowl replacing his normal laid-back demeanor. “You were the one with the map. If you were paying more attention then we wouldn’t be here right now,” he snapped, pointing a finger in your direction. 

You clench your fists at your sides and grit out, “We agreed on what path to take.”

“Well that was assuming you had a sense of direction, but I guess we’re both wrong.” 

You flush with embarrassment and anger. Sam’s jaw tightens as he runs a hand through his hair, sighing. You turn, attempting to keep your composure. The jungle is clearly getting to both of you and arguing isn’t helping your situation. 

Sam takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry, princess. That wasn’t fair.” 

You bark out a laugh, “No, but you’re right.”

He steps forward and wraps his arms around you, his strong chest presses firmly against your back. He kisses your cheek, “We’re in this together, remember?” 

You nod, leaning your head back against the crease of his shoulder. He presses featherlight kisses against your neck, always quick to apologize when he realizes he hit a nerve. 

You turn your head and close the gap between you. You can’t stay mad at him forever, especially when his apologies are so satisfying. His hands creep upward and cup your chest and you squeak against his lips. 

He grins against you before letting his hands wander, squeezing and kneading wherever he can to get those needy little noises out of you. Sam slips his tongue past your lips, groaning at the taste of you. 

You pull away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. Sam pouts, just for a moment. You turn in his embrace so you face him and press a chaste kiss to his lips before slowly sinking to your knees. 

“I want to taste you,” you purr, almost begging, as you rub his thighs. 

He looks at you through his lashes and gives a nod. Quick and clumsy fingers reach up to undo his belt. The clinking of the metal was music to your ears. Sam’s hands clench at his sides as you slowly pull his zipper down, desperate for something to steady himself. You slide a hand up to lift up his shirt and graze your fingers over the taught skin on his abdomen. You drag your hand downward and plunge it under the waistband of his boxers. 

You wrap a hand around his aching cock, and he shudders against you. You pull him free from his jeans, and he lets out a sigh. You stroke him once and then twice, twisting your wrist with each pass over his length. 

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and Sam’s hips buck into your grip. 

You grin, “You want me to suck you off, Sammy? You want my lips around your cock?”

He hates that nickname, but your sultry words more than make up for it. “Yes, princess. Fuck, need you so bad.” 

You hum before swiping your tongue against his weeping tip. You allow your mouth to fully envelope him, swirling your tongue around the pink-hued tip. Sam groans as you take him, one hand gripping your shoulder with the other one laced through your hair. 

You rest your palms on the backs of his thighs, ushering him closer with every bob of your head. You look at him through your lashes as you hollow your cheeks around him. It’s like something snaps inside him and he’s grabbing the back of your head and fucking himself into your eager mouth. 

You gag around him and he pulls back just enough to let you catch your breath. It’s a tender act that is quickly replaced by the abrasive action of him shoving his cock down your throat once more. It brings tears to your eyes, and Sam swipes a calloused thumb across your cheek. 

He’s taking what he wants and you’re letting him. Like everything with Sam, his movements are swift and impulsive. One moment he’s squeezing your jaw to get you to open just a little wider and the next he’s raking a hand through your hair and pulling you closer. 

You can feel the drool starting to dribble down the sides of your mouth, and Sam groans at the sight of you. His thrusts are quick and he’s whining like an animal in heat. Pride swells in your chest. Only you can make him feel this good. 

Sam’s strategic, and that didn’t stop when you were fooling around. He hilts himself deeply inside you when he cums, forcing his seed down your waiting throat. He pulls back when he realizes you bit off more than you can chew and his cum is spilling down the sides of your mouth. 

You eagerly gulp down everything he gives you. You’re left panting with tear-stained cheeks and traces of Sam glistening over your mouth. He leans down and traps your lips in his. The ferocity of the kiss nearly sends you falling, but Sam’s hand stays planted on the back of your neck, keeping you in place. 

He’s never that good with words, but his actions speak volumes. This was his way of saying thank you. 

“I love you, you know that right?” he states as he pulls you to your feet. Something dances in his caramel eyes as he cups your cheek in his large hand. 

You nod, a grin dancing on your lips. You move your head to kiss the palm of his hand, “I love you, dork.”

[narcosfandomdiscord]

narcos october prompts

The Narcos Fandom Forever discord server is introducing a month-long challenge, the Narcos October Prompts, which is open to fan creators for both the OG Narcos and Narcos MX TV shows.

Creators of all kinds are encouraged to make all types of fanworks! Fic, art, gifs, vids, and other miscellaneous fanworks are all welcome. 

Each fanwork must be published on the day that corresponds to the prompt. There are two prompts for each day of the month, and you can choose which you prefer.

For example, you can post a fanwork inspired by the Day 7 prompt “Blackout” on October 7. If you create something late, you can publish it on the amnesty day, which is October 30. 

Please use the hashtag #narcoctober to submit your entries, so we can find them and reblog them! 

EDIT: the event is now over. To enjoy the things we've created, peruse masterlist i (days 1-10), masterlist ii (day 11-25), and masterlist iii (day 26-31).

🍰 Prompt List 🍰

October 1 — Day of Firsts

Create a fanwork about a canon character you’ve never written about/used before.

Create a fanwork of an alternate universe you’ve never tried to create before.

October 2 — “Porque No Los Dos?” Day

Create a crossover for the original Narcos show and the Narcos: Mexico show, featuring at least one character for each.

Anything involving polyamory, ex: a fic about somebody who has two or more partners (with their partners’ knowledge and consent, aka not infidelity. That’s a different prompt).

October 3 — Day of Music

Create and post a playlist for fic/wip of yours OR your favorite episode and explain why each song resonates for that fic/wip or episode.

Put your favorite playlist on shuffle and whatever song comes up first, that’s your prompt.

>>> more prompts below the cut

October 4 — Day of Conflict

Anything involving a fistfight or a gunfight.

Quote prompt: “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

October 5 — Day of Visual Art

Visual fanworks: post a screenshot, meme, gif, gifset, video, or other non-fic visual fanwork.

Create a fanwork about a character interacting with a piece of art (e.g. buying decoration for a new home, stealing a piece, hitting on a stranger at a gallery, creating art themselves, etc)

October 6 — Day of International Relations

Write non-English language fic.

Use a random country picker and utilize that country in your work in some way: a character is from that country, a food from that country shows up, there’s international politics, etc. You get two rerolls if you don’t like the first or second country you get. If you get the United States, reroll automatically.

October 7 — Day of Darkness

Make something centered around non-death dark topics (we have a specific death day already). Morally or emotionally dark topics/themes.

One-word prompt: Blackout.

October 8 — Day of Light

A day of pure fluff: anything insanely, unambiguously, self-indulgently, luxuriously enjoyable.

One-word prompt: Sunrise.

October 9 — Day of Gay

Create anything devoted to an LGBTQ+ character. This can be your headcanon, but if you want a canon gay character, Pacho and his boyfriends are canonically gay. Also, one of Pacho’s biker lady criminals is played by a trans actress.

Create anything with a queer and/or trans original character or reader insert.

October 10 — Day of Tough Shit

Write a fic whose exact wordcount is divisible by 500 (500, 1000, 1500, etc).

Make a fanwork in a medium you’ve never used before. If you make GIFs, write something. If you write, draw. Etc. As long as it’s uncharted territory for you!

October 11 — Day of Fun

Create a non-visual, non-fic fanwork: quiz, game, playlist, incorrect quotes.

Create a fanwork with at least one joke in it (that YOU think is funny, fuck everyone else if they don’t think it’s funny lmao).

October 12 — Day of Death

Kill a character who lives in canon.

Create something with a character who is mourning a dying thing rather than a person (their dying relationship, their dying career, their dying city, their dying memories, their dying friendship, their dying dreams, etc etc etc)

October 13 — Day of Life

Create a fanwork in which a character avoids their canonical death.

Create a fanwork about characters having kids (sex to have kids, pregnancy, the birth itself, the kids growing up) or choosing not to have kids. It's a free country (it’s sorta a free country) (it’s sorta kinda a free country) (depends on which country we’re talking about i suppose)

October 14 — Day of Support

Create a review, response, or analysis of a Narcos or Narcos Mexico fic, in the style of an Amazon review or a NYT book review or something like that. Please keep it constructive and positive, no roasts.

Quote prompt: “I got you.”

October 15 — Day of Absolute Filth

Create a smut fanwork that includes three different kinks and/or sex acts (basically you could tag it with at least three tags that are Pure Filth).

Create a fanwork about a character’s moral corruption.

October 16 — Day of Surprises

These prompts were revealed at the start of the day.

Create a fanwork that focuses on dreams, either literal or metaphorical.

Shrimp.

October 17 — Day of Rare Treasures

Create a fanwork about a character that only shows up in one (1) season of the show. the rarer the better honestly

“I laughed and said, Life is easy. What I meant was, Life is easy with you here, and when you leave, it will be hard again.”

October 18 — Day of History

Create a fanwork about characters experiencing, participating in, or witnessing a real life historical event (could have been depicted in canon or not) e.g. moon landing.

Create a fanwork about two exes meeting unexpectedly.

October 19 — Day of Hurt

Create a fanwork about a character so emotionally or physically hurt that they can’t help but start crying even though they don’t want to.

Make a spitework (that is, a fanwork addressing something in canon that pissed you off, whether it was a character or a plot point).

October 20 — Day of Comfort

Create a fanwork about a character getting exactly what they need from someone unexpected.

Create a fanwork inspired by your #1 narcos comfort episode (not necessarily “the best” but rather the episode you rewatch the most often because you love it so much).

October 21 — Day of Women Who Will Step On You For Free

Create a f/f-centric fanwork.

Create a fanwork focused on the character development of a woman from the show.

October 22 — Day of Cross-Fandom Pollination

Create a fanwork that includes at least one Narcos character and at least one character from another fandom.

Create a fanwork with the plot or setting stolen from another fandom (and cite which fandom it is). For example, a daisy jones and the six fic where món is a 60s singer.

October 23 — Day of Threes

Create a fanwork that includes three items you can currently see.

Create a fanwork including three canon characters. extra difficult version: three canon characters that have never met.

October 24 — Day of Monsters

Create a fanwork about a character turning into a supernatural creature.

Quote prompt: “The world isn’t made up of heroes and monsters. Just broken people balancing between the two.”

October 25 — Day of Wow, That Escalated Quickly

Create a fanwork that begins in a canon-compatible place, but ends up going somewhere more dramatic.

Quote prompt: “It’s surprising how much can change in just one hour.”

October 26 — Day of Echoes

Pick a quote from the show that you love and use it as inspiration for your fanwork. Then share what the quote is at the end of your post.

Create a fanwork inspired by any mythological story (Greek, Norse, Aztec, Celtic, etc. get weird with it. Bible counts as mythology, fuck it)

October 27 — People of Color Day

Create a fanwork about an original character or reader character who is explicitly a person of color.

Create a fanwork about a canon character of color (e.g. Truijllo, Enrique, Kiki, Rafa, Azul).

October 28 — Day of Friendship

Create a fanwork inspired by somebody else’s fanwork, or including a cameo of somebody else’s original character (fanvids, fanart, moodboard, etc included — just please ask for permission from the original creator to use inspo before you do it!)

Quote prompt: “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

October 29 — Day of Horror

Create a fanwork inspired by your favorite horror movie.

Prompt: came back wrong.

October 30 — (penultimate day, October 30) Day of Amnesty

Post a fanwork you started for any previous prompt but weren’t able to finish in time.

Quote prompt: “I forgive you.”

October 31 — (final day, October 31) Day of Legacy

Create a sequel or counterpart to a fanwork you posted previously this month.

Quote prompt: “This is [my/your/their] legacy.”

November 1 — Bonus — Day of Celebration

reblog a fanwork that is your favorite creation that you made in the month

[carissimipaixao]

Nathan Drake is searching for a treasure — that much is obvious, no matter how hard he tries to fake his innocence. Elena knows him well enough, too, and she’s angry. Perhaps, one might believe her anger is towards the man’s obsessive chase over a mythological treasure, but you believe otherwise. A part of you firmly believes that she’s angry and afraid of how willing he is to put himself at risk, against a ruthless warlord of all people. The realization aches more than you’d admit. Of course she wouldn’t have forgotten him that easily.

— flowers (out in february)

[springdandelixn]

Hello, My Lovely Spring Rolls!

To celebrate such milestones in my personal (birthday! woot woot!) and tumblr (500 followers!) life, I will be hosting my first-ever (and hopefully the beginning of more) sleepover for all of us to enjoy!

I've only been actively posting my stories on this site since October 2022 and truthfully, you guys have been such a blast and I cannot thank you enough for the support and love you continuously give.

With that being said, I hope you would join me in this sleepover and make more memories together!

For this sleepover, we will be having 2 events; 1) Writing Challenge, and 2) Fic Requests.

🌻This challenge is only open to 18+. Minors, please DNI.

🌻The theme for this challenge is, you guessed it, SPRING! Not only is it on my tumblr name but it's my favorite season of all time. I know we are still far away from it but oh well.

🌻The sleepover will start on January 31st and end on March 31st (though my birthday is on the 7th of March huehue) No late submissions, please.

🌻This challenge is open to all genres BUT (and it's a big one) if you've been hanging around me for a while, you know what my preferences are—angst, smut, and dark.

🌻All tropes are allowed—Mafia, A/B/O, enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, even step-cest if that's your vibe.

🌻Characters must ONLY be from the following fandom:

Game of Thrones - Jorah Mormont, Petyr Baelish or Jaime Lannister

MCU/Marvel - Vision, Loki, Thor, Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner or Logan Howlett

DCU - Clark Kent or Bruce Wayne

Sebastian Stan Characters - Lee Bodecker or Steve Kemp

Chris Evans Characters - Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett, Andy Barber, Jake Jensen or Ari Levinson

Tom Hiddleston Characters - Jonathan Pine, James Conrad or Thomas Sharpe

Miscellaneous - Joel Miller (The Last of Us - Either Pedro Pascal or the video game character) or Samuel Drake (Uncharted)

🌻Reader insert only, no OFCs or ships. Sorry.

🌻Entries must be new and original. I will not allow any entries that are part of an ongoing series. If it is, make sure that it can be read as a stand-alone piece.

🌻There is no word limit but do make sure to add the Keep Reading line after 500 words.

🌻Please use the tag #rolling into spring writing challenge when posting your work and tag me in it. If I haven't reblogged it or given a comment within 24 hours after you've posted, shoot me a message.

🌻No Underage, Beastiality, Incest, Monster(??) and Water Sports.

🌻A prompt list will be provided for this challenge but it is not mandatory to use them. You can use them as a guide to help you kickstart your work. The most important thing is that your story has the element of Spring in it.

🌻I reserve the right to not read or interact with your work if it makes me uncomfortable or if you didn't abide by the rules. Warnings are a MUST and should be written appropriately.

🌻Any questions that you may have, my DMs are open. You can also join my discord server to engage with others and bounce off ideas with one another.

🌻Rules of the writing challenge pretty much apply here as well.

🌻I will be providing a dialogue prompt list for you to choose from. You can also suggest a trope or give me a brief description of your request.

🌻Please use this form when requesting a fic. Just so as not to crowd my ask box.

🌻Fics will only be written with dark themes. (sorrynotsorry)

Now that the ground rules have been laid, all that's left to do is to have fun! And I look forward to your requests as well as what you'll come up with for this event! Make me squirm and gimme hay fever! (okno) haha

Writing Challenge Prompts

Fic Request Prompts

[unchartedperils]

But of an update besides scrolling Tumblr once/twice a week randomly since Christmas week.

I’m good, mostly. Hanging in there and just got over a cold that got scary at one point due to getting the shakes and dehydration.

So what else have I been writing besides TimeSplitters debut fic and my first ever reader insert staring Sadie Adler? Quite a bit.

Firstly, I wrote ANOTHER reader insert and this one is more up my darkfic alley where I insert reader into tying up and humiliating Lara (yes as usual Survivor Lara Croft) as part of a college fraternity prank.

Then I wrote chapter 5 of my GTA 4: Ballad of Gay Tony AU staring Tony Prince and my bitchy teenage OC Marina Sanchez. Mostly an action themed chapter for once but with yet more snarky dialogue from Marina and Luis+more!

Next up and for Christmas was my much awaited Darkfic oneshot for Call of Duty as part of a Darkfic Christmas Campfire event. We’ll say Mara got junked in a trunk…😏

Lastly for 2023 was a return to my Tomb Raider 2013 prequel fic combined with the world of GTA 4. Roth travels to Azerbaijan to begin his search for the Petersburg Pearl while Lara continues to suffer in captivity. I’ll leave it at that a certain paramilitary cult may’ve or may’ve not participated in one of if not multiple conflicts of the Caucasus in the 90s.

2024 so far has resulted in a pair of one shots. This being yet another Rika Raja vs. Nathan Drake and Chloe Frazer darkfic, but today I uploaded my first RE fic finally featuring Ada Wong as she’s now on the other side of BDSM with Leon.

Hope you’re doing well/hanging in there during the downdrums of January! Next post will have the links to these fics!

[apocalypse-shuffle]

Five times he finds himself falling for you w/ ALEC•H

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

SFW, 16+, mild profanity, canon typical sexual themes, 5+1 Things -chubby!reader & alt!reader/goth!reader

This follows an (altered) aftermath of the mission in S3E7: “The Gone Fishin’ Job”.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

#TWO

After the run in with the militia you insist on coming over to see him, and he likes the fact that you stayed too much to deny you your request.

You fussed over him until he got you to stop freaking and then you two talked for hours. You’d even brought him get well soon cookies and that was the shit (and very kind of you he was very flattered).

You’d asked to stay over again to binge watch series like you used to in college until he felt better (he was only playing up his injuries a little bit, okay?) and so as the sky got darker you’d gone to change.

Alec had just about been holding his breath for you to walk back out in the same two piece set as last time.

What you’d come out in instead was way more intricate than the last time. The cami and shorts had really worked for you, don’t get him twisted, but this somehow managed to upstage it.

It was a black slip dress for Christ's sake. One that suited your figure nicely at that. The back of it just barely went over your behind and everything - not that he let his clocking of those observations get disrespectful of course.

Once the time came, you’d changed the bandages Eliot dressed him with and redressed the cuts scattered all over his person. After that Alec would admit to being almost too caught up by your heat pressed against him to keep up with your excited barrage of chatter about the newest issues of Hellblazer: City of Demons and Hellboy Sacrifice.

Almost.

They weren’t the comics he frequented but it was nice to know you still liked the same stuff, and nice to see how animated you got while helping him out as he engaged in the topic of discussion with you.

That familiarity was good. It was safe and uncharted all at once and Alec couldn’t help but to be drawn in by that feeling.

That sense that - finally - something new was brewing on the horizon that didn’t include loft explosions and Alec running for his damn life because he refused to not fight for the little guy anymore.

That was the old him.

He watches, smiling and with a nearly shocked brow raised, as you draw literary parallels like they’re second nature (as easy to you as writing code) and realizes that this was a new you too.

A new you he hopes to get more opportunities to relearn.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!!

I didn’t specify what comics the Reader-Insert was talking about to un-generalize her too much; it’s just supposed to point out her and Alex’s juxtaposing similarities and show that she’s a lil alternative. Think PenPen before the BAU kind of - but black, obviously.

btw: there is basically nothing here but you can write a lil comment if you want to.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

a pair of cherries on your milkshake

by narration_ator waiting for the road to be laid Duke Thomas has been your best friend for almost a decade. You've seen each other through hard times and good, stayed constant after his parents were Jokerized and your father OD'd and the two of you were tossed into foster care. He's always had your back, and when he starts the We Are Robin movement, you have no choice but to return the favor. You could do with fewer life-or-death situations, but beggars can't be choosers, and you'll stick by Duke's side until the end. You can only hope it doesn't come before you have the chance to go on a date. Which probably won't be any time soon. High-schoolers suck. Words: 588, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Series: Part 6 of all uncharted Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Reader, Duke Thomas, Duke Thomas's Parents, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, Damian Wayne, Helena Wayne, Helena Bertinelli Relationships: Duke Thomas/Reader Additional Tags: Reader-Insert, We Are Robin Movement, Duke Thomas is Signal, Duke Thomas is a Batfamily Member, Metahuman Duke Thomas, Crime Alley (DCU), Jason Todd Takes Care of Crime Alley | Park Row, second fourth and sixth robins: all from the narrows, Childhood Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Metahuman Reader (DCU), Vigilante Reader, DC stands for Disregard Canon, no beta we die like duke's will to live, Canon-Typical Violence via https://ift.tt/G6VXK82